OF ALL COUNTRIES:
PARTICULARLY OF THE
UNITED STATES, GREAT BRITAIN, IRELAND
AND FRANCE:
WITH NOTES AND SPEECHES OF COUNSEL.
CONTAINING
THRILLING NARRATIVES OF FACT FROM THE COURT ROOM,
ALSO
HISTORICAL REMINISCENCES OF WONDERFUL EVENTRS;
COMPILED BY
THOMAS DUNPIIY,
OF THE NEW YORK BAR,
AND
THOMAS J. CUMMINS,
OF THE NEW YORK PRESS.
NEW YORK:
D IO S SY  &  COMPANY,
LAW BOOK PUBLISHERS.
1870.




Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year i867,
By THOMAS  DUNPHY  AND THOMAS J. CUMMINS,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York.




CONTENTS
I. CHARLOTTE MARIANE D ARMANS CORDAY....... 9
The Assassination of Marat, the leading spirit of the
French revolutionary party of 1793, by Charlotte
Corday —Lamartine's History of the Life, Trial, and
Execution of the French Heroine.
II. HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES..............                 48
Their Trial, Conviction, and Execution for High Treason
in Ireland in 1798-Sketch of the Patriots-Full Account of their Trial at Dublin-The Prisoners prosecuted by Attorney-General Toler, afterwards the notorious
Lord Norbury-The Eloquent Speeches of John Philpot
Curran and Lord Plunkett in Defence of the PrisonersTou.ching Letters of John Sheares to his Mother and
Sister previous to Execution-The Final Scene-Harrowing Incidents at the Scaffold - Extraordinary Appearance of the Bodies, on being viewed some years
after in the vaults of St. Michan's Church, Dublin, &c.
M. THE BURNING OF THE SHEAS..................... 1
Terrible Agrarian Outrage committed in Ireland in 1821Eighteen Huhian Beings Burned to Death in their own
House-A Child Born in the Flames-Singular Circum-.stances attending the detection of the Culprits -An
Eye-witness to the Scele keeps the Secret Sixteen
Months —Trial and Execution of the Murderers-Rich.
ard Lalor Shiel's graphic history of the Tragedy, and
Speech at Clonmel in relation thereto, &c., &c.
IV. THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT...  1.........            ] 28
Sketch of the eventful Life and Career of the murdered
Woman - Her History in Boston, New York, and
other places-Her Meeting with Richard P. RobinsonAccount of their Career- The Murder - Trial of
Robinson-Full report of the Evidence, Witih Speeches
of Counsel, &c.-Public Excitement-Acquittal, &c.
V. JOHN C. COLT...................    226
His Trial and Conviction for the Murder of Samuel Adams
in 1841-Sketch of the Murderer and his Victimn-The
Evidence for and against the Prisoner in full —Exciting
Incidents of the Trial-The Head of the murdered Man
exhibited in open Court-Interesting Examination of
Colt's Mistress, Caroline Henshaw-The Verdict-Attempt to Release Colt from Jail-Incidents of his Prison
Life —Suicide of the unfortunate Man on the Day set
down for his Execution-The Tombs on Fire, &c., &c.




vi                        CONTENTS.
VI. THE MURDER OF LORD RUSSELL...........  307
The Murder of Lord William Russell by Francois Benjamin Courvoisier-Trial, Conviction, and Execution of the
Culprit-His Confession-Great Speech of Mr. Charles
Phillips for the Defence, ac.
VII. THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN....             372
Full Particulars of the Tragedy-Domestic Difficulties in the
Family-The Murder —Examination of the Accused and of
Mademoiselle De Luzy Desportes, the Governess-Eloquent
Letters, Impressions and Diary of the Duchess-Causes Assigned for the Deed-Suicide of the Duke-Effects of the Crime
on the People of France, &c.
VIII. EARL FERRERS.....................       422
Trial, Conviction, and Execution of Earl Ferrers for the
Murder of his Steward.
IX. THE RED BARN TRAGEDY.4........  429
Murder of Maria Martin-Trial, Conviction, and Execution of the Assassin, William Corder.
X. MURDER OF A MILLER.......................... 443
M urder of a Miller by his Wife and Children.
2XI. MARCHIONESS OF BR]lVILLIERS..............  448
The Poisoner-Her Trial and Execution.
XII. A VICTIM OF JUDICIAL MURDER.-............. 453
XIII. WRONGFUL EXECUTION.............      456
Wrongful Execution of a Father for the Murder of his
Daughter.
XIV. THOMAS GEDLEY.............                  459
Who was Executed on account of his Resemblance to
another.
XV. AWNEY BEANE.............................. 461
The Scottish Robber, Murderer, and Cannibal.




PREFACE.
THE present work is intended to'supply a deficiency which has long been
felt in American literature.- A collection of celebrated trials, published at
such a price that they can be reached by all, must prove invaluable not only
to the legal profession, but to the public generally. We have seen with what
genuine interest the advent of a. well-written romance is received among us,
but in this volume we have compiled and culled out, not fictitious- gems to
please the fancy, but stern realities taken from the court-room-histories of
crime and its deplorable results. Each trial is a work of wonderful interest
in itself. Added to most of them are the speeches of counsel, eloquent,
learned, and famous. In the trial of Francois Benjamin Courvoisier for the
murder of Lord William Russell in London, we give the speech of Mr.
Charles Phillips, who defended the prisoner for his life. This speech created
at the time a vast amount of speculation and criticism throughout Great Britain, in consequence of the knowledge which Mr. Phillips possessed of his
client's guilt when delivering his masterly effort.
The Helen Jewett and Colt cases are remembered by many of the old
citizens of New York. Their barbarity, and the extraordinary circumstances
which surrounded them, caused the greatest excitement in the public mind
at that period.
The other cases in this volume will be found equally interesting, and it is
not necessary to here allude to them at any length. If errors occur, the
public must look back for redress to the chroniclers of the periods in which
those trials took place.
THOMAS DUNPHY.
THOMAS J. CUMMINS.








- REMARKABLE TRIALS.
CHARLOTTE. MARIANE D'ARMANS CORDAY.
THE ASSASSINATION OF MARAT (LEADING SPIRIT OF THE FRENCH
REVOLUTIONARY PARTY OF 1793,) BY CHARLOTTE CORDAY.
LAMARTINE'S HISTORY OF THE LIFE, TRIAL AND EXECUTION OF
THE FRENCH HEROINE.
THE history, trial, and execution of Charlotte Corday is known
almost to every reader; her early secluded life; her devotion
to liberty; her determination to strike at what she believed to be the cause of the sufferings of France-the carrying out of her project unaided, unassisted by a single human
being-the courage and determination exhibited in stabbing
Marat —her arrest —her trial-her remarkable beauty, and lofty
bearing on her way to the guillotine-her execution-group together
a character the most remarkable and prominent which figured in that
small party,who,"cast by/Providence into the very centre of the greatest drama of modern times, comprised in themselves the ideas, the
passions, the faults, the virtues of their epoch; and whose life
and political acts formed, as we may say, the nucleus of the French
Revolution, and who perished by the same blood which crushed
the destinies of their country."
This young French heroine was born at St. Saturnin des Lignarets, in the department of Orne, July 28,.1768; guillotined at Paris,
July 17, 1793. Her bearing on the scaffold sent a thrill even through
the hearts of her exeutioners. A young German enthusiast, Adam
Lux, a deputy from the city of Mentz, on witnessing the execution,
conceived a romantic passion for her, and when her head fell, he
cried, with a voice hoarse- with emotion,:"She is greater than




REMARKABLE TRIALS.
Brutus." He wrote. a pamphlet, suggesting that a statue with such
an inscription should be erected to her memory. He was arrested
and guillotined. Andre Ch6nier, who had paid a glowing poetical homage to her heroism, shared the same fate before a year had
elapsed. When Vergniaud was informed of Charlotte's death, he
exclaimed, "She has killed us, but she teaches us how to die."
Her history, trial, and execution, so beautifully and vividly described by Lamartine, we give as follows:Whilst Paris, France, the leaders and the armies of the
factions were preparing to rend the republic to atoms, the
shadow of a grand idea was flitting over the mind of a young
girl, which was to disconcert events and men, by throwing the
arm and the life of a female athwart the destiny of the Revolution. It would seem as though Providence deigned to mark out
the greatness of the deed by the weakness of the hand, and took
pleasure in contrasting two species of fanaticism in bodily conflict-the one beneath the hideous guise of popular vengeance,
in the person of Marat; the other under the heavenly charm of
love of country, in a Jeanne d'Arc of liberty; each, notwithstanding, ending, through their mistaken zeal, in murder, and
thus unfortunately presenting themselves before posterity, not as
an end, but as a means —not by the aspect, but the hand-not
by the mind, but by blood!
In a large and thronged street which traverses the city of
Caen, the capital of Norinandy, at that time the focus of the
Girondist insurrection, there stood at the bottom of a courtyard
an ancient habitation, with grey walls, stained by the weather
and dilapidated by time. This building was styled! le Gsand
Macnoir. A fountain with stone brim, covered with moss, occupied one angle of the courtyard. A narrow low door, whose
fluted lintels uniting in an arch over the top, exposed the worn
steps of a winding staircase which led to the upper story.
Two windows, with their small octagon panes of glass held in
leadwork, feebly lighted the staircase and the empty chambers.
The misty daylight in this antique and obscure abode impressed
on it the character of vagueness, mystery, and melancholy,
which the human fancy likes to see spread as a shroud over the
cradle of deep thoughts and the abodes of strongly imaginative
minds. Here resided, at the commencement of 1793, a granddaughter of the great French tragedy writer, Pierre Corneille.
Poets and heroes are of the same race.  There is between them




CHARLOTTE CORDAY.                  1l
no other difference than that which exists between idea and
fact. The one does what the other conceives, but the thought is
wholly the same. Women are naturally as enthusiastic as the
one, and as courageous as the other. Poetry, heroism, and love
inherit the same blood.
This house belonged to a poor woman, a widow, childless, aged,
and infirm-a Madame de Bretteville. With her had lived for
some years a young female relative, whom she had adopted and
brought up, in order to comfort her old age and relieve her from
utter isolation. This girl was then in her twenty-fourth year.
Her serious but fine features, grave yet very beautiful, seemed
to have received the imprint of this dull abode and sequestered
existence. There was in her something not of this earth. The
inhabitants of the district who saw her walking out with her
aged aunt on Sundays in order to go to church, or caught a
glimpse of her through the doorway, reading for hours at a
time in the courtyard, seated in the sunshine at the brink o.
the fountain, relate that their admiration of her was mingled
with prestige and respect, arising from that strength of mind
which, beaming forth, intimidates the vulgar eye; or that deep
feeling of the soul imprinted on her features; or that presentiment of a tragic destiny which, anticipating the event, stamps
its mark upon the brow.
This young creature was tall, without exceeding the usual
height of the high statured and well proportioned women of
Normandy. Natural grace and dignity, like the rhythm  of
poetry, displayed itself in her steps and action. The ardor of the
south mingled itself in her complexion with the high color of
the women of the north. Her hair seemed black when fastened
in a large mass around her head, or arranged in clusters on each
side of her brows. It seemed gold colored at the points of the
tresses, like the ear of corn, deeper and more lustrous than the
wheat-stalk in the sunlight. Her eyes, large and expanding
almost to her temples, were of a color variable like the wave of
ocean, which borrows its tint frow the shadow or the day beam
— blue when she reflected, almost black when called into animated play. Long eye-lashes, blacker than her hair, gave the
appearance of great depth to her glance. Her nose, which
united with her brow by an almost imperceptible curve, was
slightly expanded near the middle. Her Grecian mouth dis



12                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
played the well cut lips, whose expression, impossible to depict,
fluctuated between tenderness and severity, equally formed to
breathe love or patriotism.
The projecting chin, divided by a deep dimple, gave to the
lower part of her face a character of masculine resolution which
contrasted with the perfectly feminine contour of her lovely
face. Her cheeks had the freshness of youth and the firm oval
of health. She blushed or turned pale very suddenly. Her
skin had thile wholesome and marbled whiteness of perfect
healthiness. Her chest, wide and somewhat thin, offered a bust
of sculpture scarcely undulated by the characteristic contour of
her sex. Her arms were full of muscle; her hands long, and
her fingers taper. Her attire, conformable to the humbleness
of her fortune and the retirement in which she dwelt, was simplicity itself. She relied on nature, and disdained every artifice or whim of fashion in her dress.  Those who saw her in
her youth describe her as always attired ill a gown of dark
cloth, cut like a riding habit, with a hat of grey felt, turned up
at tile sides with black riband, round and like those worn by
women of rank at that period. The tone of her voice-that.
living echo which bespeaks the whole soul in a vibration of the
air-left a deep and tender impression in the ear of those whom
she addressed; and they spoke still of that tone, ten years after
they had heard it, as of strange and unforgotten music ineffaceably imprinted on the memory.  There were in this scale of
the soul notes so sonorous and deep, that they said to hear was
even more than to see her, and that her voice formed a portion
of her beauty.
This young girl was named'Charlotte Corday d'Armont.
Although of noble blood, she was born in' a cottage called le
Ronceray, in the village of Ligneries, not far from d'Argentan.
Misfortune had ushered her into life, which she was destined
to quit by the scaffold.
Her father, Francois de Corday d'Armont, was one of those
country gentlemen whose poverty made him almost on a level
with the peasant. This nobility preserved nothing of its ancient elevation but a certain respect for the family name, and a
vague hope of a return to fortune, which prevented him alike
from lowering himself by his manner, or of raising himself by
his labor. The land which such rural nobility cultivated in its
small and inalienable domains nourished, without humiliating it




CHARLOTTE CORDAY.                   13
by its indigence. Nobility and the soil seemed to be wedded in
France, as aristocracy and the sea are wedded in Venice. M.
de Corday united to this agricultural occupation a restlessnessin
politics, and literary tastes, then very common in this cultivated
portion of the nobles of the populatiod. He longed with all his
soul for a coming revolution. He was wretched in his inaction
and poverty. He had written some casual pamphlets against
despotism and the law of primogeniture, and his productions
were full of the feeling which was speedily to burst forth. He
had a horror of superstition, the ardor of the newly springing
philosophy, and the conviction of the necessity of a revolution;
but either from lack of genius, restlessness of temperament, or
the malevolence of fortune, which restrain the highest talents
in oblivion, he could not make his way through events.
He pined in -the obscurity of his petty fief of Ligneries, in
the bosom of his yearly increasing family. Five children;two sons and three daughters, of whom Charlotte was the second,
-made hirn feel daily with more acuteness the stern and sad
pressure of want.  His wife, Jacqueline-Charlotte-Marie-deGonthier-des-Autiers, died, leaving her husband. to her daughters, still young, but really bequeathing to her orphans that
domestic tradition and daily inspiration which death carries off
from children when it bereaves them of their mother.
Charlotte and her sisters lived on after this for some years at
Ligneries, almost running wild, clothed in coarse cloth, like tile
young girls of Normandy, and, like them, working in the garden, making hay, gleaning and gathering the apples on the
small estate of their father. At length necessity compelled M.
de Corday to separate from his daughters, who, by favor of their
nobility and their indigence, entered a monastery at Caen, of
which Madame Belzunce was abbess. This abbey, whose vast
cloisters and chapel of Roman architecture were built in 1066,
by Matilda, wife of William the Conqueror, after having been
deserted, degraded, and forgotten in its ruins, until 1730, was
then magnificently restored; and at this day forms one of the
finest hospitals in the kingdom, and one of the most splendid
public buildings in the city of Caen.
Charlotte was then thirteen years of age. These convents
were then really Christian abodes for women, who lived apart
from the world, still hearing all its reports and sharing in all
its movements. The monastic life, replete with pleasant em



14               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
ployments and close friendships, for sime time captivated the
young girl. Her ardent soul and impassioned fancy threw her
into that state of dreamy contemplation in which enthusiasts
fancy they behold God,-a state which the careful watchfulness of a superior and the power of imitation so easily change
in infancy into faith and devotional exercises. The iron disposition of Madame Roland herself would have warmed and softened in presence of this heavenly fire. Charlotte, more tender,
yielded more easily. For some years she was a model of piety.
She dreamed of ending her life-as yet hardly opened at its,
first page, and of burying herself in this living tomb, where
instead of death, she found repose, friendship, and happiness.
But the stronger were her feelings, the rnore rapidly did she
penetrate and reach the extremity of her thoughts: she rapidly plumbed the depths of her childish faith, and contemplated beyond her domestic ideas others, fresh-luminoussublime. She neither forsook God nor virtue, the two earliest
passions of her soul, but she gave them other names-different
shapes. Philosophy, which was then irradiating France with
its lights, gained admittance, -with the books then in vogue,
through the gratings of nunneries. These were deeply studied
in the seclusion of the cloister; and in opposition to monastic
pettinesses, philosophy formed its most ardent adepts. The
youth there, male and felnale, in the universal triumph of reason, saw their fetters broken, and adored their regained liberty.
Charlotte formed in the convent those affectionate predilections of infancy so like the relationships of the heart. Her
friends were two young girls of noble houses, but of fortunes
humble as her own-Mesdemoiselles de Faudoas and de'Forbin. The abbess, Madame de Belzunce, and the- assistant,
Madame Doulcet de Pont6coulant, had distinguished Charlotte,
and they admitted her into those somewhat mundane parties
which custom permitted the abbesses to keep up with their relatives in the world, even in the seclusion of their convents.
At the period when monasteries were suppressed, Charlotte
was nineteen years of age. The penury of her father's home
had increased with time. Her two brothers in the king's service had emigrated; one of her sisters was dead, the other
managed her father's poverty-stricken home at Argentan.
Madame de Bretteville, the old aunt, received Charlotte into




CHARLOTTE CORDAY.                  15
her house at Caen, though, like her family, she was poor, living
in that obscurity and silence which hardly allowed the nearest
neighbor to be aware of the existence and name of a poor
widow. Her age and infirmities cast even a deeper gloom
over her condition. Charlotte aided her in domestic duties,
accompanying her aunt in the evenings to those meetings of
the nobility which the fury of the people had not wholly destroyed, and where some remnants of the ancien wstgime were
still tolerated in their attempts to console each other, and in
their lamentations over the state of circumlstances. Charlotte,
respecting these regrets and superstitions of the past, never
cast a word of reproach on them, but smiled to herself, whilst
in her inmost soul she kept up the already kindled flame of
different opinions —a flame which daily burnt more ardently.
Charlotte passed her days in the courtyard and garden, read.
ing and musing. No one interfered or directed her in any
way: her freedom, opinions, and studies are wholly unconstrained. The religious and political opinions of Madame de;
Bretteville were habits rather than convictions; and the republican sentiments of Charlotte's father had been more or less
imbibed by every membeir of his family, inclining them all for
the new ideas which had sprung up.  Charlotte's age inclined
her to the perusal of romances, which supplied visions ready
drawn for unemployed minds. Her feelings led her to pursue
works of philosophy, which transform the vague instincts of
humanity into sublime theories of government; and historical
productions, which convert theories into actions, and ideas into
men.
She found this two-fold desire of her imagination and heart
satisfied in Jean Jacques Rousseau, the philosopher of love, and
the poet of politics; in Raynal, a fanatic of humanity; in Plutarch, a personification of history, who paints more than he relates, and imparts life to the events and characters of his heroes.
These three works were incessantly in her hahds, whilst from
time to time she read Heloise, and works of that class. Yet,
whilst her imagination was thus warmed, her mind lost none of
its purity, nor her youth its chastity. Absorbed in the desire of
loving and being loved, inspiring, and sometimes' experiencing
the first symptoms of love, her reserve, her dependence, and
destitution always repressed the avowal of such feelings. Her
love, thus restrained, changed not its nature but its ideal, and




16'REMARKABLE TRIALS.
became a vague, yet sublime devotion to a dream of public happiness. The passion with which she would have been inspired for
some one individual. consumed her'in her- ardor for her.country,
and the desire of immolating herself to this had wholly possessed
her-was her love or her virtue; and, however bloody was the
sacrifice to be, she had resolved on its consummation.
She had reached that enthusiastic state of mind which is the
suicide of happiness, not for the profit of glory or ambition, like
Madame Roland, but for the sake of liberty and humanity, like
Judith or Epicharis. She only-awaited the occasion-it came,
and she thought to seize it.
It was at this moment that the Girondists were struggling
with daring courage and, prodigious eloquence against their
enemies in the Convention. The Jacobins only desired to wrest
the republic from the Gi1onde, in order to. precipitate France
into a bloody anarchy. The convulsive throes of liberty, the
hateful tyranny of the mob of Paris, substituted for the legal
sovereignty of the nation, represented by its deputies; arbitrary
imprisonments, the assassinations of September, the conspiracy
of the 10th of March, the insurrection of the 30th and 31st of
May, the expulsion and proscription of the purer portion of the
Assembly, their scaffold in perspective, where liberty would
ascend with them, the probity of Roland, the youth of Onfrede
and Barbaroux, Isnard's cry of despair, Buzot's constancy,
Ption's integrity, from an idol become a victim, the martyrdom
in the tribune of Lanjuinais, who only required that he might
parallel Cicero's fate —that his tongue should be nailed to the
rostrum; and finally, the eloquence of Vergniaud, that hope of
good citizens, that remorse of froward ones, become suddenly
mute, and leaving honest men to their discouragement, and the
wicked to their infamy: in the. place of these men, interesting
or sublime, who appeared to defend in the breach the last'ramparts of society, and the sacred hearth of every citizen, a Marat,
the dregs and leprosy of the people, triumphing over the laws'by sedition, crowned by impunity, carried into the tribune on
the arms of the faubourgs, attaining the dictatorship -of anarchy,
spoliation, assassination, and threatening every species of independence, property, liberty, and life in. the' departments; all
these convulsions, excesses, terrors, had deeply shaken the provinces of Normandy.
The presence in Calvados of' the proscribed and fugitive de'




CHARLOTTE CORDAY.                   17
puties, appealing to liberty against oppression, and lighting up
the hearths of the department in order to call up avengers for
the country, had excited even to adoration the attachment of
the city of Caen towards the Girondists, and execration against
Marat., whose very name had become synonymous with crime.
What was desired in Normandy before the, 10th of August was
not so much the overthrow of the throne as an equalising constitution of the monarchy. The city of Rouen, capital of that
province, was attached to the person of Louis XVI., and had
offered him  an asylum  before his- fall. The scaffold of that
prince had saddened and humiliated the good citizens. Tle
other cities of this part of France-were rich, industrious, and
agricultural. Peace and shippingwere requisite to their prosperity, and a horror against the king's murderers, and a secret
disposition to establish a regime, which should i(nite the assurances of a monarchy with the liberties of the republic. prevailed'
amongst them. Thence their enthusiasm for these Girondists,
men of the constitution of 1791; thence, also, the hope which
clung to their restoration and their vengeance. All patriotism
was thus attacked, every virtue was thus sensibly assailed, all
hope of real liberty died with them.
Charlotte Corday felt all these blows directed against her
country concentrate themselves in anguish, despair, and daring
in her already deeply stricken heart. She saw the loss of
France, saw the victims, and believed she discerned the tyrant.
She swore an inward oath, to avenge the one, punish the other,
and save all. She pondered for many days over the vague determination of her heart, without clearly resolving on what. deed
her country required at her hands, which link of crime it was
most urged to cut through.  She considered things, men, circumstances, in order that her courage might not be fruitless, nor
her blood spilled in vain.
The Girondists, Buzot, Salles. Petion, Valady, Gorsas, Kervelegan, Mollevault, Barbaroux, Louvet, Giroux, Bussy, Bergoing,
Lesage (d'Eure-et-Loir), Meihan, Henri Lariviere, Duchatel, had
been for some time assembled at Caen, and occupied themselves
with fomenting the general insurrection in the departments of
tie north and combining it with the republican insurrection of
Brittany, in recruiting battalions of volunteers, and sending them
to the army of Puisaye and Wimpfen, which was to march on
Paris, and in keeping up, in their localities, the fire of indigna2




I8               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
tion in the departments which were to consume their enemies.
lBy rising against the omnipotence of Paris, and the dictatorship
of the Convention, the youth of the departments believed they
were rising against Marat only.
Danton and Robespierre, less conspicuous in the last efforts of
tihe people against the Girondists, had in the eyes of the insurgents, neither importance nor authority over the people, nor
the sanguinary delirium of Marat. They left the names of these
two great partisans of the Montagne in the shade, in order not
to damage the esteem in which these two popular and important
persons were held by the Jacobins of the departments. The
multitude was deceived, and saw tyranny and freedom in one
man's hands only. Charlotte, amongst thle rest, was so mistaken.
The shadow of Marat darkened all the republic in her eyes.
Thlle Girondists, whom the city of Caen had taken under its
care, all lived together in the old palace' of that city, whither
the seat of the federalist government was rernoved, together with
the insurrectional committee; and here were held assemblies of
the people, where the citizens, and even the women, flocked in
crowds in order to see and hear these first victims of anarchy,
these last avengers of liberty. The names so long prevalent of
Petion, Buzot, Louvet, Barbaroux, pleaded more powerfully than
their orations to the imaginations of Calvados.  The vicissitudes
of revolutions softened the spectators, and made them proud of
speedily avenging such illustrious guests. They were overcome
by the energetic accents of these persons, and pointed as they
passed to Petion, the king of Paris, to Barbaroux, hero of Marseilles, whose youth and beauty adorned eloquence, courage,
and misfortunes; and they went about appealing to arms, and
exciting sons, husbands, brothers, to enlist in their battalions.
Charlotte Corday, surmounting the prejudices of her rank, and
the timidity of her sex and age, ventured frequently to be present with some friend at these meetings, and was remarked for
the silent enthusiasm  which increased her feminine beauty,
and which was only betrayed by her tears.
Louvet addressed inflammatory proclamations to the cities
of the south:
"The forces of the department which are on the road to
Paris," said he,' do not seek enemies to combat them: they go
to- fi'aternise with the Parisians; they go to support the tottering
statue of liberty. Citizens! you who may see these friendly




CHARLOTTE CORDAY.                   19
phalanxes pass through your roads, your towns, and your villages
-fraternise with them. Do not suffer blood-thirsty monsters
to establish themselves amongst you to arrest them on their
march." These words produced thousands of volunteers. More
than six thousand were already assembled in the town of Caen.
On Sunday, the 7th of July, they were passed in review by the
Girondist deputies and the authorities of Calvados, with all the
requisite preparations to electrify their courage. The spontalneous assemblage rising, arms in hand, to go and die ill avenging
liberty for the insults of anarchy, recalled the patriotic insurrection of 1792; drawing to the frontiers all who desired to live
no longer, if the country no longer existed. Charlotte Corday
was present in a balcony at this enrolment and departure.
The enthusiasm of these young citizens, abandoning their firesides to go and protect the violated hearth of the national representation, and brave cannon b1.lls or the guillotine responded
to her own. She even found it tou cold. She felt indignant at
the small number of eTlrolments which this review had added
to the regiments and battalions of Wimpfen. There were not
in fact on this day more than a score. This enthusiasm, it was
said, was endeared to her by the mysterious but pure feeling
which one of these volunteers, who thus tore themselves from
their families, their love, and it might be from life, bore towards her. Charlotte Corday had not been able to remain insensible to this concealed adoration, but she immolated this attachment to one more sublime.
This young man was named Franquelin. He adored in silence the young female republican. He carried on a correspondence with her full of reserve and respect. She answered
with the sad and tender reserve of a young girl who had no
dowry but misfortune to bestow. She had given her portrait to
the young volunteer, and permitted him to love her, at least
through her image.
M. de Franquelin, borne away by the general impulse, and
sure of obtaining a glance and approbation by arming himself
-in the cause of liberty, had enrolled himself in the battalion of
Caen. Charlotte could not help trembling and growing pale on
seeing this battalion defile to depart. Tears fell from her eses.
Pktion, who passed under the balcony, and who knew Carlotte,
was astonished at this weakness, and thus addressed  her:
"Would you then be happy," said he to her, " if they did not:




20               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
depart?" The young maiden blushed, made no reply, and withdrew. Petion lhad not comprehended this distress: the future
revealed it to him. Young Franquelin, after the trial and execution of Charlotte Corday, death-stricken himself by the counter-blow of the axe which had decapitated her whom he adored,
retired to a village in'Normandy.  There, alone with his
mother, he lingered for some months, and died, requesting that
the portrait and the letters of Charlotte Corday might be buried
with him —that image and that secret repose in that coffin.
After the departure of the volunteers, Charlotte had but one
thought: to anticipate their arrival in Paris, to spare their generous lives, and render patriotism useless, in delivering France
from tyranny before them. This attachment, endured rather
than tested, was one of the sorrows of her devotion, but was not
the cause of it.
The true cause was'her patriotism. A presentiment of terror
already spread over France at this moment. The scaffold was
erected in Paris. They spoke of speedily carrying it through
all the republic. The power of La Montagne and Marat, if it
triumphed, could only defend itself by the hand of the executioner. The monster, it was said, had already written the
lists of proscription, and counted the number of heads which
were necessary for his suspicions and his vengeance., Two thousand five hundred victims were marked out in Lyons,. three
thousand at Marseilles, twenty-eight thousand at-Paris, and three
hundred thousand in Brittany and Calvados.  The name of
Marat caused a shudder like the mention of death.  To check
such an effusion of blood, Charlotte desired to shed her own.
The more she broke her ties on earth, the more agreeable would
she be as the voluntary victim to the liberty which she desired
to appease.
Such was the secret disposition of her mind, but Charlotte
desired to see clearly before she struck the blow.
She could not better enlighten herself upon the state of Paris,
upon men and matters, than through the Girondists, the parties
interested in this cause. She wished to sound them  without
disclosing herself to them. She respected them sufficiently not
to reveal a project which they might have possibly regarded as
a crime, or prevented as a generous but rash act. She had the
constancy to conceal from her friends the thought of sacrificing
herself for their safety. She presented herself under specious




CHARLOTTE CORDAY.                   21
pretexts at the Hotel of Intendance, where the citizens who had
business with them  could approach the deputies.  She saw
Buzot, Petion, and Louvet. She discoursed twice with Barbaroux. The conversation of a young, beautiful, and enthusiastic maiden with the youngest and the handsomest of the Giron-.dists, under the guise of politics, was calculated to give rise to
calumny, or at least to excite the smile of incredulity upon
some lips. It was so at the first moment.  Louvet, who afterwards wrote, a hymn to the purity and glory of the young heroine, believed at first in one of those vulgar seductions of the
senses with which he had embellished his notorious romance.
Buzot, totally oc3upied with another image, hardly cast a glance
upon Charlotte. Petion, on crossing the public hall of the Intendance, where Charlotte awaited Barbaroux, kindly rallied
her on her assiduity, and making allusion to the contrast between such a step and her birth, " Behold then," said he," "the
beautiful aristocrat, who comes to see the republicans!" The
young girl comprehended the smile, and the insinuation so
wounding to her purity. She blushed, and, vexed afterwards
at having done so, answered in a serious yet gentle tone, " Citizen Petion, you judge me to-day without knowing me; one
day you will know who I am."
In these audiences which she obtained of PBarbaroux, and
twhich she designedly prolonged, to feed herself, from his discourses, with the republicanismn, the enthlusiasm, and the projects of La Girlonde, she assumed the huilble part of a suppliant; she requested from the young Marseillais a letter of
introduction fi-om one of his colleagues in the Convention,
which would introduce her to the minister of the interior.
She had, she said, claims to present to the government in
favor of Mademoiselle de Forbin, her friend in infancy.
Mladernoiselle de Forlhin had been'induced to emigrate by her
relatives, and was suffering poverty in Switzerland.
Barbaroux gave her, a letter for Duperret, one of the seventythlree deputies of the Girondist party who were overlooked in
the first proscription.
This letter of Barbaroux's, which afterwards led Duperret to
the scaffold, dill not contain a single word which could be imputed as criminal to the deputy who received it. Barbaroux
confined himself to recommending a young female of Caen to
the consideration and protection of Duperret. He announced




22                 REMARKABLE TRIALS.
to him a publication of their mutual friend., Salles, upon the
constitutin.  Furnibhed with this letter and a passport whicL
slhe lhad taken out some days before, for Ar'entan, cOll.rlotte
went to pay her farewell acknowledgements to Barbaronx.
Tlhe sound of her voice struck Barbaro.ux with a presentilnen',
which 1he could not then comprehend.  "If we had known hei
design," said he at a later period, "and if we had been capable
of a crime by such a hand, it was not Marat whom we shlould
have poillted out for her vengeance."
The gaiety which Clarlotte had always mingled with the
gravity of her patriotic conversations vanished from her countenance on quitting for ever the dwelling of the Girondists.
The last struggle between the thouglit alnd its execution was
going on in her mind. Slhe concealed this interior combat by
careful and well-mana^ged dissimulation. The gravity'of lier
counfteal.ace alone, and some tears, ill concealed from, the eyes
of her relatives, revealed the voluntary agony of her seltinrnmolation. Irnterrogated by her aunt: " I weep," said she, "over the
misfolrtules of imy country, over those of my relatives, and over
yours.  Whilst Marat lives no one can be sure of a day's
existence."
Madamlne de Bretteville remembered afterwards, that on enterinlg Charlotte's chamber to awaken her, she found: upon her
bed an old Bible open at the Book of Judith, and in which she
had rl -ad this verse, underlined with apenlcil: "Judith went
forth frlln the city, adorned with a marvellous beauty, which
the Lowrd lhad bestowed on her to deliver Israel."
On the same day, Charlotte having gone out to make her
preparations for departure she met in the street some citizens
who were playing cards before the door. "You play," said
she with an accent of bitter irony,' and the: country is
dying."
-Ier manner and speech testified the impatience and precipitation of a departure. She set out at length on the 7th July
for Argentan. There she took her last adieu of her father and
sister.  She told them that she went to seek a refuge and existence in, England: against the Revolution and misery, and that
she desired to receive the paternal benediction previous.to this
long separatioq'. Ier father approved: of this decision..On embracing her father and sister, she wept more over the
past than for the future. She returned on the same day to




.CHARLOTTE CORDAY.                  23
Caen. She there deceived the tenderness of her aunt by tlhe
same ruse which had deceived her father. She told her that
she should soon set out for England, where some emiurant
friends had prepared hler an asylumn and a lot which she could
not hope for in her own country. This pretext concealed the
sotrrow of her adieux, and the various arrangements for her departure. She had privately arranged it for the morrow, tlhe 9th
of July, by the Paris diligence. Charlotte filled up these la t
hours in gratitude, attention, and tenderness towards that aunt
to whorm she owed such long and kind hospitality, and she
provided through one of her friends for the old servant who
had taken care of her in her youth. She ordered and paid in
advance, at the tradespeople's shops in Caen, for some little
presents of dresses and embroidery destined to be worn after
her departure, by some youthful companions of her early days.
She distributed her favorite books amongst the young persons
of her acquaintance, and reserved none for herself but a volume of Plutarch, as if she did not desire to separate herseif,
in the crisis of her life, from the society of those great men
with whtom she had lived and wished to die. Finally, on the
9th of July, very early in the morning, she took under lier arml
a small bundle of tile most requisite articles of apparel, embraced her aunt, and told her she was going to sketch the hay.
makers in the neigboring inmldows. With a sheet of drawing
paper in her hand, she went out to return no more. At the
foot of the staircase she met the chlild of a poor laborer, named
Robert, who lodged in the house, in the street.  The child was
accustomed to play in the court. She sometimes gave him
little toys.' Here! Robert," said she to hlim, giving him the
drawing-paper, which she no longer required to keep her in
countenance: "that is for you; be a good boy and kiss me;
you will never see me again."  And she embraced the child,
lerving a tear upon his cheek. That was the. last tear on the
threshold of the house of her youth. She had nothing left to
give but her blood.
The freedom  and harmlessness of her conversation in the
carriage which conveyed her to Paris did not inspire her travelinlg companions with any other sentiment than that of admni
ration, good-will, and that natural curiosity which attaches
itself to the name and fate of an unknlown girl of dazzling
youth and beauty. She continued to play during the first day




2 4               REMEARKABLE- TRIALS.
with a little girl, whom chance had placed beside her in the
carriage. Whether it were that her love for children overcame her pre-occ('upation of thought, or that she had alre-ady
laid aside the burden of her trouble, and desired to enjov these
last hours of sport with innocence and with life.
The other travellers were Montagnards, who fled from the
suspicion of federalism to Paris, and were profuse in imprecations against the Girondists and in adoration for- Marat. Attracted by the graces of the young girl, they strove to draw
fiom her her name, the object of her journey, and her address
in Paris. IHer loneliness at that age encouraged them to farmiliarities, which she repelled by the modesty of her manners, and
tie evasive brevity of her answers, which she was enabled to
terminate by feigning sleep. A young man, who was more reserved, seduced by so rnuch modesty and such ch~arms, ventured to declare to her l4is respectful admiration. He implored
her to authorise him to ask her hand of her relations. She
turned this sudden love into kind railing and inirth. Slie
promnised the young nlan to let him know her name and her
disposition in regard to himself at a later period. Slie charmed
her fellow travellers to the end of the journey, by that delightful conduct from which all regretted to separate themselves.
She entered Paris on Thursday, 11th of July, at noon. She
was conducted to the hotel which had been indicated to her at
Caen, in the Rue des Vieux Augustins, No. 17, the H6tel de
la Providence. She retired to rest at five in the evening, and
slept profoundly until the next day. Without a confidant, and
without a witness, during those long hours of solitude and
agitation, in a public hoaise and amidst the noise of this capital
whose magnitude amld tumult absorb the ideas and trouble the
senses, no-one knows what passed in that mind, upon her
awakening and recollecting the resolve which summoned her to
execution. Who can measure the force of her thought, and
the resistence of nature? The thought prevailed.
She arose, dressed herself. in a simple but respectable
gowl, and went to Duperret's. Tile friend of Barbaroux was at
the Convention. His daughters, in the absence of their father,
received from the young stranger Barbaroux's letter of introduction. Duperret would not be home until evening.
Cliarlotte returned and passed the entire day in her chamber in reading, reflecting and in. prayer. At six o'clock she re



CHARLOTTE CORDAY.                  25
turned again to Duperret's. The deputy was at table at supper
with his family and friends. He rose and received her in his
drawing-room, without a witness. Charlotte explained to him
the service she expected fromn his courtesy, and begged him to
conduct her to the minister of the interior, Garat, and to aid
by his presence and credit the suit she had to urge. This request was but a prletext on her part to bring her into contact
with one of these Girondists for whose cause she was about to
sacrifice herself, and to derive fiom her discourse with him full
inforinattion and proper indications, the better to assure her
steps and her hand.
Duperret, pressed by time and recalled by his guests, told
]er lie could not conduct her on that day to Garat's, but that
lie would call upon her at her residence on tile following
morning to-accompany her to the offi6es. She left her name
and;address with Duperlet, and nmade some steps as if about to
withdraw, but as if overcome by the interest with which the
honest countenance of this good man and the youth of hbis
daungliters had inspired her, "Permit me to advise you, Citizen
Duperret:" said she, in a voice full of mystery and warning;
"quit the Convention; you can do no more good there; go to
Caen, and rejoin your colleagues and brothers."  "My post is
at Paris," replied the representative; "I will not leave it."
"You.are in error," replied Charlotte, with a significative and
almost suppliant appeal. "Believe me," she added in a lower
and more rapid voice; " fly, fly, before to-morrow night!" and
she departed without awaiting an answer.
These words, the sense of which Was only known to the
stranger, were interpreted by Duperret as a simple allusion to
the urgency of the perils which menaced those of his opinion
in Paris.  Ile went and reseated himself with his friends.  lie
told them  that a young female, with whom  he had just
discoursed, had, in her attitude and speech, something strange
and mIysterious, with which he was struck, and which commanded from him reserve and circumspection.
In the evening a decree of the Convention ordered seals to
be put on the furniture of the deputies suspected of attachment
to the twenty-one. Duperret was one of the number. Ile
went, however, oni the following day, the 12th, very early in
the morning, to Charlotte at her lodging, and conducted her
to Garat. Garat did not receive them. The minister could




- 26              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
not grant an audience before eight o'clock in the evening
This contre-temps appeared to discour'ag-e Dup(erret. He represented to the young girl, that his position as one suspected,
and the measures taken against hllim on that very night, ren
dered his patronage henceforth more prejudicial than useful to
his clients;'that besides, she was not furnished with a power
frorm Midemnoiselle de Forblin to act in her name, and that ill
default of this formality his proceedinlgs would be futile.
The stranger remonstrated but little, as a person who had
no more need of the pretext with which she had colored her
first steps, and who contented herself with the slightest argument to abandon, her idea. Duperret left her'at the door of
the Hotel de la Providence. Slte pretended to enter it. She
went out immediately, and inquired, street by street, the way
to the Palais Royal.
She entered thle gardens, not a stranger who desired to satisfy her curiosity by the contemplation of monuments and
public gardens, but as a traveller who had only one object in
the city, and who did not desire to lose a step or a day. She
sought with her eses, under the galleries, for the shop of a
cutler. She entered one; selected a poignard-knife with an
ebony liaft, paid three francs for it, concealed it under her
handkercllief. and with slow steps returned to the garden,
where slhe seated herself for a moment upon one of the stone
benches abultting on the arcades.
Shle desired to make of this'murder a solemn immolation,
which should strike terror into the minds of the imitators of
the tyrant. Her first idea had been to approach Marat, accost
him, and sacrifice him  in the. Chamtp-de-Mars, at the great
ceremony of the federation which was to take place on the
14th of July, in commemoration of the triurhph of liberty.
The adjournment of this ceremony until the republic should
suppress the. Vendeans and rebels, deprived her of her theatre
and victim. Her second idea was to strike Marat at the
summit of the mnountain, in the very midst of the Convention,
beneath the eyes of his adorers and accomplices. Her hope in
this case was that she herself should be immolated the next
moment, and torn in pieces by the people, leaving no other
trace or recollection than of two dead bodies and tyranny destroyed in its own blood. To bury her name in oblivion, and
seek no recompense but in the act itself, asking her shame or




CHARLOTTE CORDAY.                    27
renown but from her own conscience, God, and the good sl'e
could effect-sucll was to the last the single ambition of lier
mind. Shlame! she would not hlave it f,or hler family's sake.
Renownl! she desired not for herself.  GlI,ry! seemed to her a
salary too commonplace, and unworthy of thle disinterestness of
her deed, and but calculated to deteriorate her virtue.  I owever, the conversations she had had since hler arrival in Paris,
with Duperret and others informed hler that Marat wolld not
again appear in tile Convention. Thus it was necessary to find
the victim elsewhere, and to obtain access it was necessary to
deceive him.
Thlis she resolved on; yet was the dissimulation which was
so foreign to the natural loyalty of her nature, which changed
the dagger into a snare, coura(ge into stratagem, and imnnolatioin illto assassination,-the first remor'se of her conscienlce, and
her first punishment. Charlotte decided on striking the blow,
but the means she was compelled to adopt cost lier mlore than
the deed itself. Thig she ilerself confessed. Conscienlce is just
in the presence of posterity..'
Sh!e returned to her clihamnber and wrote to Marat a billet,
which slhe sent to the door of the friend  of the people.  "I
have just arrived from  Caen," she wrote.  "Your love of
country mikes me presume that you will have pleasure fil hearing of the unfortunate events of that portion of the republic.
I shall present myself at youlr abode about one o'clock; have
the goodness to receive Ine, and grant me a moment's conversation.  I will put you in a position to be of great service to
France."
Charlotte, relying on the effect of this note, went at the
appointed hour to Marat's door, but could not obtain access to
him. She then left with the portress a second note, more
pressing and insidious than the former.
"I wrote to you this morning, Marat," she said; " did you
have my letter? I cannot believe it, as they refuse me adrittance to'you. I hope that to-morrow you will grant me the interview I request. I repeat that I am just arrived frotm  Caen,
and have secrets to disclose to you most important for the
safety of the republic.  Besides, I am persecuted for the cause
of liberty; I am unlmappy, and that I am so should give rme a
claim on your patriotism."
Without awaiting;his reply, Charlotte left her chamber at




28                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
seven o'clock P. M., clad with more than usual care in order, by
a more studied. appearance, to attract the persons about Marat.
Her white gown was covered over the shoulders by a silk scarf;,
which, falling, over her bosom, fastened behind. Her hair was
confined b)y a Normandy cap, the long lace of which played
against her cheeks. A  wide green silk riband was bound
around her brows, and fastened her cap. Her hair fell loose
down her back. No paleness of complexion, no wildness of
gaze, no tremulousness of voice, revealed her deadly purpose.
With this attractive aspect she knocked at Marat's door.
Marat inhabited the first floor of a dilapidated house in the
Rue des Cordeliers, now Rue de l'Ecole de Medicine, No. 20.
His apartment consisted of an ante-chamber and a writing
room, looking out on a narrow courtyard, a small room  containing lis bath, a sleeping-room and dining-room looking on
to the street. It was very meanly filrnishled. Numerous publications of Marat's were piled on the floor,-tlhe newspapers
of the day, still damp firon the press, were scattered about on
the chairs and tables, printers' lads going in and coming out
incessantly, women employed in folding and addressing pamphlets and journals, the worn steps of the staircase, the ill-swept
passages,-all attested the movement and disorder which surround a man much occupied, and the perpetual crowd of'persons in the house of a journalist and leader of the people.
This abode displayed, as it were, thle pride of poverty. It
appeared as though its master, then all-powerful over the
nation, was desirous of saying to his visitors when they contemplated his squalidness and his labor, " Look at the friend and
model of the people! lhe has not cast off his abode, manners,
or address."
This misery, though a display, was yet real.:Marat's domestic arrangements were those of an humble arltisan. A
female, who controled his house affairs, was originally named
Caterine Evrard, but was called Abertine Marat from the time
the friend of the people gave her his name, taking her for his
wife one day in fine weather, in the face of open sunshine, after
the example of Jean-Jacques Rousseau. One servant aided
this woman in her household duties. A messenger, named
Laurent Basse, did the out door work, and when le had leisure,
employed himself in the ante-chamber in packing up parcels
of the papers and bills for the friend of the peoplc.




CHARLOTTE CORDAY.                   29
The incessant activity of the writer had not relaxed in consequence of the lingering disease which was consuming hlim.
The inflammatory action of his blood seemed to light up his
mind. Now in his bed, now in his bath, he was perpetually
writing, apostrophising, inveighing against his enemies, whilst
exciting the Convention and the Cordeliers. Offended at the
silence of the Assembly on the reception of his messages, he
had recently addressed to it another letter, in which he threatened the COnvention that he would be carried in his dying
condition to the tribnce, that he mnight shame the representatives with their cowardice, and dictate to themr fresh murlders.
He left no repose either to hlimself or to others. Full of the
presentiment of death, he only seemed to fear that his last hour,
coming on too suddenly, would not leave him time to immolate sufficient criminals. More anxious to kill than to live, he
hastened to send before him as many victims as possible, as so
many hostages given by the knife to the completed revolution,
which he desired to leave free fromn all enemies afterhis death.
The terror which issued from Marat's house returned thither
under another form-the unending dread of assassination. His
companions and his intimate associates believed that they saw
as many daggers raised against him as he raised over the heads
of three hundred thousand.citizens. Access to his house was
forbidden, as it would be to the. palace of tyranny. None were
admitted to hlis presence but assured friends or denouncers
strongly recommended, and who had submitted to interrogatories and severe examinations.
Charlotte was not aware of these obstacles, although she apprehended them. She alighted from the coach on'the opposite
side of the street, in front of Marat's residence. The day was
on the wane, particularly in the quarters darkened by lofty
houses and narrow streets. The portress at first refused to allow the young unknown to penetrate into the courtyard. She
insisted, however, and ascended several stairs, regardless of the
voice of the concierge. At these sounds, Marat's mistress halfopened the door, alid refused to allow a female whomr she did
not know to enter. The confused sound of the altercation between these women, one of whom entreated that she might be
allowed to speak to the friend of the people, whilst thle other
endeavored to close tile door in her face, reached Marat's ears,
who comprehended, by the few indistinct words that reached




30                 REMARKABLE TRIALS.
him, that thle visitor was the stranger fiom  wllomn  he hlad  received two notes duriing the day.  In a loud and imperative
voice ihe ordered that slle should be admitted.
Abertine, either from jealousy or distrust, obeyed with muchl
ill-will and glrumblirng.  She showed the young girl into the
small closet where Marat was, and left, as shle quitted hei, thle
door half open, that slie might hear the lowest whisper or the
smallest movement of the sick man.
The roomn was faintly lighted.  Marat was in his bath, yet
in this forced repose of his body, he allowed his mrind no leisure.  A plalnk, rouglhly planed, laid across tle' batli, Was covered with:apels, open letters, and hlalf'written articles fo)r his
publication.  He lheld in his-right hand tle pen which the arrival of the unknown female had suspended on it3 page.  This
was a letter to the Convention, to dema.nd of it the jludgmellnt
and pr-oscriptiorl of the hist Bou'brns tolerated in FrIlice. Beside the bath, on a large block of oak, was a leaden inkstand,
of the meanest fabric, —-te foul source whence, for three years,
bad flowed so many delirious outpourings, so many denunciations, so much blood. Marat, covered in llis bath with a cloth
filthly with dirt and spotted with ink, had only his head, shoulders, the upper part of this chest, llnd his  right arm  out of' the
water. Tllee was nothing in thle features of this man to affect
a woman's eye with tenderness, or give pause to a mneditated blow.  Ihis niatted hair, wrapped in a dirty hLandkerchief,
w'ith receding forehead, protruding eyes, promninent cheekbones, vast and sneering moutlh, hairy chest, shrivelled liunbs
and livid skin- such was Marat.
Charlotte took care not to look him in the face, for fear her
countenance might betrly the horror shle felt at his sight.
With downcast eyes, and her arnms hanging motionless by her
sidle, she stood close to the bath, awaiting until Marat shl)old
inquire as to the state of Normandy. She replied with brevity,
giving to her replies the sense and tone likely to pacify thle
demagogue's wishes. He tlhen asked the namnes of the deputies
who had taken refuge at Caen. She gave them to hlim, an(d. he
wrote them down, and when he had concluded,  said, in the
voice of a man sn-re of his vengeance, "Well, before they are a
week older, they shall have the guillotine!"
At these words, as if Charlotte's mind had awaited a last
offence before it could resolve on striking the blow, she drew




CHARLOTTE CORDAY.                   31
the knife from her bosom, and, with superhuman force, plunged
it to the hilt in Marat's heart.  She then drew  the bloody
weapon from the body of the victim, and let it fall at her feet.
"Help, my dear,-help!" cried, Marat, and then expired.
At this cry, Albertine, the maid servant, and Laurent Basse
rushed into the apartment, and caught Marat's sinking head in
their arms.  Charlotte, motionless, and as if petrified at her
crime, was standing behind the window curtain.  The transparent material allowed her form to be easily distinguislhed.
Laurent, taking up a chair, struck her a clumsy blow on the
head, which knocked her to the floor, where Marat's mistress
trampled her under foot in her rage.'At the noise that ensued,
and the cries of'the two women, the inhabitants of the house
hastened thither, neighbors and persons passing in the streets
ascended the staircase and filled the room, the court-yard, and
very speedily the whole quarter, demanding, with fierce exclamations that they would, throw the assassin out to them, that
they might avenge the dead-yet still warm —body of the
people's idol. Soldiers and national guards entered, and order
was, in some measure. re'established.  Surgeons arrived, an'd
endeavored to stanch the wound. The reddened water gave to
the sanguinary democrat the appearance of having died in a
bath of blood.. It was a dead corpse that they lifted into bed.
Charlotte had risen from the floor without any assistance.
Two soldiers held her with the arms crossed, as if in handcuffs,
waiting until cords were brought to cbnfine them, The file' of
bayonets which surrounded her could scarcely keep back the
crowd which sought to rend her in pieces. Gesticulations,
clenched fists, sticks, and brandished swords menaced her with
a thousand deaths. Marat's concubine, escaping from the females who were consoling her, by turns uttered imprecations
against Charlotte, and then burst into tears, or fainted. A
fanatic Cordelier, named Langlois, a staymaker in the Rue
Dauphine, had picked up the blood-stained knife, and made a
funeral harangue over the victim. He interrupted his lamentations and eulogiums with revengeful gestures, in which he
seemed to be perpetually thrusting the knife into the assassin's
heart. Charlotte, who had made up her mind to any death
that should follow, was, for a moment, fixed and petrified by
this movement, these gestures, the hands and arms agitated so
near: to her, but was only affected by the piercing cries of Ma



32                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
rat's mistress. Her countenance appeared to express towards
this woman astonishment at not having thought that such a
mlan could be loved, and regret at having been forced to pierce
two hearts in order to reach one. Except the feeling of pity
which the reproaches of Albertine for a moment impressed on
her lips, no change was perceptible either in her features or
complexion. Only, at the invectives of the orator, and the
groans of the people at the loss of their idol, the bitter smile
of contempt was visible on her features.  "Poor people," she
said, "you desire my death, whilst you owe me an altar for having freed you from a monster. Cast me to that infuriate mob,"
she said, afterwards, to the soldiery; "as they regret him,
they are worthy to be my executioners."  This remark, as a
defiance to the fanaticism of the multitude, excited furious imprecations and fierce gesticulations. Guillard, the commissary
of the section of the TheAtre Frangais, entered, escorted by a
reinforcement of bayonets. He drew up theprocds verbal of
the murder, and had Charlotte conducted into Marat's dining
room, to commence the interrogatory, where he wrote down
her replies, which she gave calmly, clearly, and seriously, with
a firm and resolute tone, in which the proud satisfaction at the
act she had committed was alone perceptible. She made her
confession as thlough it were praiseworthy.  The report of the
death of the "People's Friend" was spread abroad with the
rapidity of an electric shock, by men running to and fro, full
of excitement.  All Paris was struck with stupor at the hearing of this deed. It seemed as thouglhl thie republic was thunder-struck, and that dire events must spring from Marat's
murder. Pale and trembling, several deputies entered the
Convention, interrupting the business, and giviig the first reports of the event. All refused to believe it, as they would
refuse to give credit to a sacrilege.  The commandant-general
of the national guard, Henriot, came in and confirmed the
news. " Yes," he said, "tremble, all of you. Marat has been
assassinated by a young girl who rejoices at the blow she has
struck. Look-carefully after your own lives; the same peril
threatens all.  Mistrust green ribands, and let us swear to
avenge the death of this great man!"'
The deputies Maure, Chabot, Drouet, and Legendre, members of the committees of government, left the Clamber immediately and went to the spot.  There they found the crowd




CHARLOTTE CORDAY.                  33
increasing every moment, whilst Charlotte was replying to the
interrogatories. They were overcome with surprise, at the
sight of her youth and beauty, and at the calmness and firmness of her replies. Never had crimne before presented suclh
features to the eyes of men. She appeared so to alter it in
their eyes that they felt a sympathy for her even in the very
presence of her victim.
The proces verbal having finished, the deputies ordered that
Charlotte should be conveyed to the Abbaye, the nearest
prison. She entered the same hackney coach that had conveyed her thither. The-Rue des Cordeliers was thronged with
people, whose angry voices, fiequently bursting out into vociferations and excess of rage, breathed vengeance, and made
the transit difficult. Detachments of fusileers came up; the
scarves of the commissaries, and the respect felt for the members of the Convention, kept back the mob, and cleared a way.
At the motnent when Charlotte, with her hands bound.with
cords, and supported by two national guards, crossed the
threshold of the house to step into the coach, the people closed
round the wheels with such gesticulations and groans that she
felt as though her limbs were torn piece-meal by thousands of
hands, and fainted. Returning to herself, she regretted that
she still survived, yet she, with deep emotion, thanked those
who had protected her from the brutalities of the crowd.
Chabot, Drouet, and Legendre followed her to the Abbaye,
where she underwent a second examination, which lasted until
very late. Legendre, proud of his revolutionary importance,
and anxious to be thought also worthy to be a martyr to his
patriotism, believed or feigned to believe that he recognised in
Charlotte a young girl who had comle to him on the previous
evening in the dress of a nun, and whom he had sent away.
" Citizen Legendre is mistaken," said Charlotte, with a smile,
which disconcerted the deputy's pride.  "I never before saw
him. I do not esteem the life or death of such a man impor.
tant to the safety of the republic."
She was searched, and in her pockets were found only the
key of her trunk, her silver thimble, some implemnents of
needle-work, a ball of cotton, two hundred francs in assignats
and money, a gold watch, made at Caen, and her passport.
Beneath hler neckerchief she still conecaled the sheath of
the knife with which she had stab led Marat. "(Do yau;.




34                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
recognise tlhis knife?" sle was asked.' Yes."  "What led
you to this crime?"  "I saw," slle replied, "civil war ready
to rend France to atoms: persuaded that Marat was tile principal cause of the perils and calamities of the land, I have sacrificed my life for his to save my country."   " Mention the
persons who urged you to this detestable crime, wlich you
could not have conceived of yourself."  "No one knew- my
intention. I deceived my aunt, wit!i whom I lived, as to the
object of my journey. I deceived my fuather similarly. Few
persons visit my relations, and no one could have had the
slightest suspicion of my idea."  "Did you not quit the city
of COaen with the decided resolution of assassinating Marat?"
"That was my sole motive in quitting that city."  " Where
did you procure the weapon? Wthat persons llave you seen in
Paris?  What have you done since Thursday, the day of your
arrival?"
To these questions she replied with the utmost sincerity,
detailing every particular as to her arrival at Paris, and what
she had done since. "Did you not attempt to escape after
the murder?"  "I should hlave gone out at the door if I Lad
not been prevented."  "Are you a single.wooan 2"  "I am."
" Have you never had a lover?" "Never."
These answers, alternate, precise, proud. and disdainful,
made the hearers reflect frequently on the power of the fanaticism which employed and strengthened so feeble a hand. Thtey
hoped to discover an instigator bene:,th this candor and beauty,
and they found nought, save inspiration and intrepidity.
At the end of the examination, Chabot, disappointed at the
result, devoured, with his eyes, the hair, the features, the whlole
person of the young girl. He fancied he perceived a ffolded
paper pinned to the bosom of her dress, and extended his hand
to take it. Charlotte had forgotten this paper, which contained
an address to the French, drawn up by herself, and calling on
themn to punish tyrants and restore concord. She saw in the
gesture and look of Chabot an insult to her modesty; she was
unable to put out her hands, which were bound, but the'horror
and indignation she felt caused her to make so sudden and
convulsive a spring backwards, that the string of her dress
burst, and exposed her bosom. Quick as thought she stooped,
and bent herself almost double to conceal her nudity frotn her
judges. It was too late, and her chastity had to blush at the




CHARLOTTE CORDAY.                   35
looks of man. Patriotism had not rendered these men cynical
or insensible, and they appeared to suffer as much as Gharlotte
at this involuntary torture of her innocence. She entreated
them to untie her hands, with which tlhey complied, and Cllarlotte, turning round to the wall, arranged her dress. Advantage was taken of her hands being free to make her sign her
replies. Tile cords had left blue marks on her arms, and when
the guards were preparing to again bind her, she entreated to
be allowed to put on hler gloves, in order to save her unnecessary torture. The accent and gesture of the poor girl were so
touching that Harmand turned aside to conceal his tears.
The following are the principal textual passages of this address to the French, which has been hitherto lost to history,
and which has been communicated to us since the commencement of the publication of this work by the present possessor,
M. Paillet. It is written in thle,land of Charlotte Corday, in
large bold characters, as thouglh destined to be legible at some
distance. The paper is folded in eigtlt, and is pierced by the
pin that fastened it to Charlotte's dress.
"Address to Frenchmen friendly to the Laws and Peace.
"flow long, O unhappy Frenchmen! Will you delight in
trouble and division a Too long have the factious and villains
substituted the interests of their ambition in the place of the
general interest. Why, victims of their ftiry, should you destroy yourselves to establish the tyranny they desire on the
ruins of France? Factions break out on every side; the Montagne triumnplis by crime and oppression; a few monsters,
bathed in our blood, lead these detestable plots. We are
laboring at our own destruction with more zeal and energy
than we ever etployed in the conquest of liberty. O Frenchmen! —but a brief slpace, and nothing will remain but the recollection of your existence.
"Already the departments are indignantly marching on
Paris. Already the tire of discord and civil war consumes the
half of this vast empire; there is but one means of extinguishing it, but'i must be promptly employed. Already that vilest
of wretches, Marat, whose very name presents the image of
every crime, by falling beneath an avenging steel, shakes the
Montagne, and alarms Danton, Robespierre, and the other




36                 REMARKABLE TRIALS.
brigands, seated on this bloody throne. surrounded by the
thunders which the avenging gods doubtless only suspend, in
order to render their fall more terrible, and to deter all those
who would seek to build their fortunes on the ruins of a deceived people.
" Frenchmen, you know your enemies.-Rise-march! Let
the destruction of the Montagne leave nothing but brothers arind
friends. I know not if Heaven reserves for us a republican
government, but a Montagnard can be-given to us only in the
excess of divine vengeance. O France! thy repose depends
upon the execution of the laws. I do not infringe them  by
killing Marat. Condemned by the universe, he is beyond the
pale of the law.  What tribunal will condemn me? If I am
guilty, so was Alcides when he destroyed the monsters.
O my country! thy misfortunes rend my heart. I can
only ofitr thee my life; and I thank Heaven that I amr at
liberty to dispose of it. No one will be a loser by my death. I
will not imitate Paris (the murderer of Lepelletier de Saint Fargeau) by killing myself. I desire that my last sigh may be useful to my fellow-citizens-that my head, borne through Paris,
may serve as a rallying point for all the friends of the laws;
that the tottering Montagne should behold its destruction, written in my blood; that I may be their last victim, and that the
universe may declare that I have merited well at the hands of
humanity. And I declare that, if' my conduct were viewed in
another light, I should care but little.
"' Qu'a l'univers surpris cette grande action
Soit un objet d'horreur, ou d'admiration,
Mon esprit, peu jaloux de vivre en la memoire,
Ne considere point le reproche ou ]a gloire:
Toujours independant et toujours citoyen,
Mon devoir me suffit, tout le reste n'ess rien.
Ailez ne songez, plus, qu'a sortir de l'esclavage I'"
"My parents and friends should not be molested. No one
was acquainted with my plans. I join my baptismal register to
this address, to show of what the weakest hand is capable, when
aided by the mlost entire devotion. If I do not succeed in my
enterprise, Frenchmen, I have shown you the way. You know
your enemies. Arise-march! Strike them!"
On reading these verses written by the hand of the granddaughter of Corneille, we are at first led to believe that they
are by her ancestor, and that she thus invoked the Roman pat



CHAILOTTE CORDAY.                    37
riotism of the great tragic author of her race. But this is not
the case: they are in Voltaire's tragedy of "The Death of
Cesar."
The authenticity of this address is attested by a letter of Fouquier Tinville. This letter of the public accuser is directed to
the Committee of General Safety of the Convention. We subjoin it: "Citizens, I forward to you the report of the examination of Charlotte Corday, and the two letters written by her in
her confinement, one of which is addre3sed to Barbaroux.
These letters are circulated in so mutilated a form that it will,
perhaps, be necessary to print them in their present state; and
if, citizens, after having read them, you think there is no obstacle to printing them, you will oblige me by informing me.
"I should observe, that I have just learned that this female
assassin was the friiend of B dlzunce, a colonel, who was killed at
Caen in an insurrection, and that since this period she has displayed an implacable hatred towards Marat;  and that this
hatred appears to have been re-kindled at the moment when
Marat denounced Biron, the relation of Belzunce, and Barbaroux appears to have availed himself of the criminal feelings of
this girl against Marat, to induce her to commit this horrible
murder.
"' FOUQUIER TINVILLE.'
Charlotte Corday was placed in a cell and watched, even
during the night, by two gens d'armes, spite of her repeated
protestations against this profanation of her sex. The Committee of General Safety hastened her trial and sentence. She
could hear in her cell the voices of the criers who hawked
about tile streets tile account of the murder, and the shouts of
the crowd, demandirlg tile death of the assassin. Charlotte did
not deem this voice of the people that of posterity; and
through the horror she foresaw her apotheosis. With this feeling she wrote to the Committee of General Safety:-" As I
have yet some moments to live, may I hope, citizens, that you
will permit me to sit for my portrait, as I would fain leave this
souvenir to my friends. Besides, as the likenesses of good citizens are carefully preserved, so curiosity sometimes seeks those
of great criminals, in order to perpetuate their crime. If you
grant ily request, be so good as to send me a miniature painter.
I renew my request to be allowed to sleep alone. I hear the




38                REM-ARKABLE TRIALS.
account of the arrest of my accomplice, Fauchet, constantly
cried in the streets. I never saw him but once friom a window.two years ago; I neither love nor esteem him, and he is tlhe.
last man in the world to. whom I would willingly have confideC'
my project. If this declaration is of any service to him, I at.
test its truth."
The President of the revolutionary tribunal, Montane, came
on the next day, the 16th, to examine her. Touched by so
much beauty and youth, and convinced of the sincerity of a
fanaticism which almost absolved her in the eyes of human
justice, he wished to save her life, and so fralned his questiolls,
and tacitly dictated the answers, as to induce the judges to look
on them as the proof of madness rather th-n crime. But
Charlotte frustrated Ilis merciful attemlpt, and clung to her
crime as though glorying in it. She was removed to the Coilciergerie. Madame Richard, the wife of the gaoler, received
her with the compassion inspired by this proximity of youth
and the scaffold.
Thanks to the indulgence of her guardians, Charlotte obtained paper, pens, and solitude, of which slhe availed herself
to write to Barbaroux a letter, in which she recounted all the
events of her sojourn at Paris, in a style in which were mingled patriotism, mirth, and death-like sweetness and sorrow in
the last cup of a farewell repast.  After giving an almost
facetious account of her journey to Paris in company with
Montagnards, and of the sudden affection with which she had
inspired a young passenger;' I did not know," she continues,
" that the Cornmnittee of Public Safety had examined the passengers. I declared at first that I did not know them, in order
to spare them the annoyance of an interrogatoire; and I followed on this occasion the maxim  of my oracle Raynal, who
says that you should not speak the truth to tyrants. It was
througll the lady who travelled with me that they learnt that
I knew you, and that I had seen Duperret. You know his
resolution; he told them  the exact truth. Nothing can be
alleged against him, but his firmness is a crime. I regretted.
when too late, that I had spoke to him, and I endeavored tc
repair my error by persuading him to fly and rejoin you; but
he was too resolute. Would you believe it, Fauchet is imprisoned as my accomplice! He, who was ignorant of my very
existence! Buat they are not satisfied with having only a wo



CHARLOTTE CORDAY.                  39
man to offer to the manes of a great man. Pardon me, O men!
The name of Marat dishonors your race. He was a ferocious
beast, who was about to devour the remains of France by the
fire of civil war; thank Heaven, he is not a Frenchman by
birth! At my first examination Chabot had the air of a madman; Legendre wished to have it believed he had seen me at
his house that morning. I, who never dreamed of this man. I
do not think him likely to become the tyrant of his country;
besides I cannot punish them all. I believe the last words of
Marat have been printed; but I question if he uttered any.
The last words he said to me were, after I had given hlim your
names and those of the administrators of the department of
Calvados, who are at Evreux, he told me to console myself, for
he would have theln all guillotined at Paris in a few days.
These words decided his fate-though I confess that wlat entirely decided me was the courage with which our volunteers
enrolled themselves on Sunday the 7th of July. You remnember that I promised to mnak6 Petion repent his unjust suspicions
of my sentiments. I reflected how so many brave men were
about to take the life of one man whose death (had their design succeeded) would have caused that of many excellent citizens-that this man was unworthy such an honor, and that the
hand of a woman would suffice., I confess, I had recourse to a
perfidious artifice to induce him to receive mne. I intended
originally to sacrifice him on the summit of the Montasgne, but
he no longer went to the Convention. All the Parisians are
such good citizens, that they cannot comprehend how a useless
woman, whose longest term of life would be good for nothing,
can calmly sacrifice herself for her country. As I was re:lly
perfectly collected when I left Marat's house to go to the
Abbaye, I was pained at the cries of solme women. But those
who save their country reck not what it costs then. May
peace be established as speedily as I desire. This is a great
preliminary. I enjoy this peace for the last two days. The
happiness of my country is mine.  A vivid imagination and a
sensitive heart promised but a stormy life; and I praytthose
who regret me to consider this and rejoice at it. Amoingst the
moderns there are but few patriots who know how to immolate
themselves for their couutry. All is egotism. What a wretched
people to form a republic!"
The letter was interrupted here by the removal of the cap.




40                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
tive to the Conciergerie. She continued in the following
terms:-" I had the idea yesterday of offering my portrait to
the department of Calvados. The Committee of Public Safety
has sent me no' reply, and it is now too late. I must have a
defender; that is the rule. I have chosen mine from the
Montagne; and at one time thought of naming Robespierre or
Chabot. To morrow, at eight o'clock, I am tried; and probably
at twelve, to use the language of the Romans, I shall have
lived. I know not how my last moments will be passed: it is
the end that crowns the work. I have no need to affect insensibility; for up to this period I have not the least dread of
death: I have never esteemed life save by its utility. Marat
will not go to the Pantheon: he yet well deserved it. Remember the affair of Mademoiselle de Forbin, whose address
in Switzerland I enclose, and tell her that I love her with all
my heart. - I am going to write to my father; but I shall say
nothing to my other firiends. I but ask from them to forget me
speedily: their affection would dishonor my memory. Tell
General Wimpfen that I believe I have aided him to gain
more than one battle by facilitating the peace. Adieu, Citizen.
The prisoners of the Conciergerie, far fiom insulting me, like
the people in the streets, seem to pity me. Misfortune renders
us compassionate: this is my last reflection."
Her letter to her father was brief, and written in a style
rather of grief than mirth. " Pardon me for having disposed
of my existence without your permission," said she. " I have
avenged many innocent victims, and prevented many other disasters. The people, who will be disabused some day, will rejoice at their deliverance from a tyrant. If I sought to persuade you that I had gone to England, it was because I hoped
to remain unknown. I hope that you will not be molested;
but you have defenders at Caen. I have chosen Gustave
iDoulcet de Pontecoulant; but only for form's sake, as such a
deed admits of no defence. Adieu, my dear papa; I pray of
you to forget me, or rather to rejoice at my fate-the calise is
noble. I embrace my sister, whom I love with all my heart.
IDo not forget this verse of Corneille,"' Le crime fait la honte et non pas l'dchafaud i' *
"To-morrow, at eight o'clock, I am tried."  This allusion to
" The crime and not the scaffold causes shame l"




CHARLOTTE CORDAY.                  41
a verse of her ancestor, recalling to her- father the pride of
their name and the heroism of their race, seemed to place her
action beneath the safeguard of the genius of her family. She
guarded against the entrance of weakness or reproach into the
heart of her faLther, by showing hlim the illustrator of Roman
sentiments applauding her devotion beforehand.
Tile next morning, at eight o'clock, the gens d'armeseconducted her to the revolutionary tribunal. The salle was situated above the vaults of the Conciergerie. A dark and steep
stair, formed in the massive basement walls of the Palais de
Justice, conducted the accused, and brought back the condemned criminals to the ciungeons.
Before ascending, she arranged her hair and dress, to appear
decently before death; then shle said smilingly to the concierge,
" Monsieur Richard, pray let my breakfast be ready on my return; my judges are doubtless pressed for time, and I wish to
take my last mneal with Madame Richard and yourself."
The hollr fixed for the trial of Charlotte Corday was known
in Paris the previous evening.  Curiosity, horror, inter rest
and pity, had attracted an immense crowd. When she appeared, a murmur, as though of malediction, burst from this
throng, but scarcely had she passed through them in the full
blaze of her beauty, than this murmur of rage was changed
into a shudder of interest and admiration. Her features, excited by- tile solemnity of the occasion, colored by emotion,
troubled by the confusion of a voung girl exposed to the regards of so many, ennobled by the very grandeur of a crime
which she bore in her heart as a virtue, and her pride and
modesty, gave her a charm mingled with terror, that troubled
all eves and all hearts, and her very judges seemed to be culprits.in her presence. Men deemed they saw divine justice, or
the antique Nemesis, substituting conscience for law, and appearing to demand fromn human justice, not to absolve, but to
recognise her and tremble!
When she was seated on the bench of the prisoners, she.
was asked if she had a defender. She replied that a friend
had undertaken this office, but not seeing him, she supposed
his courage had failed him. The president then assigned to
her the young Chaluveau  Lagarde, afterwards illastrious
by his defence of the Queen, and already famous for
his eloquence and courage in causes and times when the




42                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
advocate shared the peril of his client. Cllihuvean Lagarde
placed himself at the bar. Charlotte gazed on him, as tlhough
she feared lest, to save her life, her defender would abandon
some part of her honor.
The widow of Marat wept whilst giving her evidence. Charlotte, moved by her grief, exclaimed, " Yes, yes,-'twas I that
killed hirm."  She then related the premeditation of the act
for three months; her prqoject of stabbing hlim in the Convention; and the ruse she had employed to obtain access to him.
" I confess," said she, with humility,'" that this ]neans was ulworthy of tile, but it was necessary to appear to esteem this
man in order to obtain access to him."  "Wbo inspired you
with this hatred of Marat?" she was asked. " I did not need
the hatred of any one else," she replied. "My own was sufficient; besides, you always execute badly that which you have
not devised yourself."  " What did you hate in him?'  "His
crimes."  " What did you hope to effect by killing him?"
"Restore peace to my colintry."  " Do you, then, think that
youl have assassinated all the Marats?"  "Since he is dead,
perhaps the others will tremble."  Tile kinife was shown Fier,
that she might recognize it. She pushed it from her with a
gesture of disgust.  "Yes," replied slhe; "I recognize it."
" What person did you visit at Ciaen."  "Very few; I s;aw
Laure, a municipal officer, and the Curie of Saint Jean." "-Did
you confess to <a conforming or non-juring priest?"  " Neither
one nor the other." " Since when had you formed this design?"'
" Since the 31st of May, when the deputies of the people were
arrested. I have killed one man to save a hundred thousand.
I was a republican long before the Revolution." Fauchet was
confionted with her. "I only know Fanlchlet by sight," said
she, disdainfiully. "I look on him as a man devoid of principles;
and I despise him."  The accuser reproached her with having
dealt the fatal stroke downwards, in order to renrder it more
certain, and observed that she must doubtless liave been well
exercised in crime. At this suggestion, which destroyed all
her ideas, by assimilating lier to professed murderers, she uttered a cry of horror. " Oh, the monster!" exclaimed she.
"He takes me for an assassin!"
Fouquier Tinville summed up, and demanded that sentence
of death should be passed.
Her defender rose. "The accused,' said he, "confesses her




CHARLOTTE CORDAY.                   -43
crime, she avows its long premeditation, and gives the most
overwhelming details.  Citizens, this is her whole defence.
This imtperturbable calm and entire forgetfulness of self, which
reveals no remorse in presence of death, —tlis calm  and this
forgetfuliness, sublime in one point of view, is not natural: they
can only be explained by the excitement of political fanaticism,
which placed the poignard in her hand. It is for you to decide what weight so stern a fanaticism  should have in the
balance of justice.  I leave all to your consciences."
Thle jury unanimously sentenced her to die. Slhe heard
their verdict unmoved; and the president having asked lier if
sihe had anything to say relative to the punishment inflicted
on lher, she made no reply; but, turning to her defcuder, —'Monsieur," said she, "you have defended me as I wished to
he defenlded: I thank you: I owe you a proof of my gratitude
and esteem, and I offer you one worthy of you. These gentlemen (pointing to the jidges) have just declared my property
confiscated; I owe sometlhing in the prison, ald I bequeath to
you the payment of this debt."
During the examination she perceived a painter engaged in
taking her likeness; without interruptincg the examination, she
smilingly turned towards tile artist, in order that he miglit the
better see her features. She thought of immortality, and already sat for her portrait, to immortality.
Bellind the painter stood a young mean, whose fair hair, blue
eyes, and pale complexion, marked him for a native froin the
north. I-lis eyes were rivetted on the prisoner; and at each
reply he shuddered and changed color. I-e seemed to drink in
her words, and to associate himself by gesture, attitude, and
enthusiasm, with the sentiments slie expressed. Unable frequently to re'press his emotion, he drew to himself, by involuntary exclamations, tile attention of the audience and of Charlotte Cordav. At the moment when the president passed
sentence of death, the young man half rose front his seat, with
the gesture of a man who protests from the bottom of his heart,
and then sank back, as though his strength had failed hirm.
Charlotte, insensible to her own fate, perceived this movement,
and comprehended that, at the moment when all on earths
abandoned lier, a kindred spirit attached itself to hers, and that
amidst this hostile or indifferent throng she possessed an unknown friend, and she thanked him with a look.




44               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
This young stranger was Adam Lux, a German republican,
sent to Paris by the revolutionists of Mayence, to concert the
movements of Germany with those of France, in the common
cause of human reason and the liberty of the people. His eye
followed Chlarlotte until she disappeared amidst the gens
d'armes beneath the arch of the stairs. His thoughts never
quitted her.
On her return to the Conciergerie, which was so soon to yield
her up to tile scaffold, Charlotte Corday smiled on her companions in prison, who had arranged themselves in the corridors and courts to see her pass. She said to the concierge-" I
had hoped that we should breakfast together once more, but the
judges detained me so long that you must forgive me for hay..
ing broken my word." The executioner arrived; she requested him to allow her time to finish a letter, which was
neither the outpouring of weakness or regret, but the last act
of wounded friendship-addressing an eternal reproach to the
cowardly spirit which h)ad abandoned her.
It was addressed to Doulcet de Pontecoulant, whom she had
seen at her aunt's, and on whom she believed she had called in
vain to be her defender. The letter was as follows;-" Doulcet
de Pontecoulant is a coward, to have refused to defend me
when it was so easy. He who undertook it performed his task
with all possible dignity, and I shall retain a grateful recollection of him to my last moments." Her indignation was unjlust;
the young Pontecoulant, who was absent from Paris, had not
received her letter: his generosity and courage were a sufficient guarantee that he would have accepted the office; and
Charlotte bore an error and an injustice to the scaffold.
The artist who had sketched Charlotte's likeness at the tribunal, was X{M. Hauer, a painter, and officer of the national
guard of the section of the Th'laltre Frangaise. On tier return
to the prison, she requested thle concierge to allow him to finish
his work, and on his arrival Charlotte thanked him for the interest he appeared to take in her, and quietly sat to hlim, as
though whilst she permitted him to transmit her form and features to posterity, she also charged him to hand down her mind
and her patriotism to unborn generations. She conversed with
M1. Hauer on his profession, the events of the day, and the
peace of mind she felt after the execution of her design; she
also spoke of her young friends at Caen, and requested him




CHARLOTTE CORDAY.                  45
to paint a miniature from the portrait, and send it to her
family.
Suddenly a gentle knock was heard at the door, and the executioner entered. Charlotte, turning round, perceived the
scissors and red chemise he carried over his- arm. "What!
already," exclaimed'she, turning pale. Then recovering her
composure, and glancing at the unfinished portrait, "Monsieur," said she, to the artist, " I know not how to thank you
for the trouble you have taken; I have only this to offer you.
Keep it in memory of your kindness and my gratitude."  As
she spoke, she took the scissors from the executioner, and severing a lock of her long fair hair, gave it to M. Hauer.
Tlhis portrait, interrupted by death, is still in the possession
of the family of M. Hauer..  The head only was painted, and
the bust merely sketched. But the painter, who watched the
preparations for the scaffold, was so struck with the sinister
splendor added by the red chemise to the beauty of his model,
that after Charlotte's death, lie painted her in this costume.
A priest, sent by tile public accuser, presented himself to
offer the last consolations of religion. "Thank," said she to
him, " those wlio have had the attention to send you, but I
need not your ministry. The blood I have spilt, and my own
which I am about to shed, are the only sacrifices I can offer
the Eternal." The executioner then cut off her hlair, bound
her hands, and put on the chemise des condamnes. "This,"
said she, " is the toilette of death, arranged by somewhat rude
hands, but it leads to immortality."
She collected her long hair, looked at it for the last time,
and gave it to Madame Richard. As she mounted the fatal
cart, a violent storm broke over Paris, but the lightning and
rain did not disperse the crowd who blocked up the squares,
the bridges, and the streets along which she passed. Hordes
of women, or rather furies, followed her with the fiercest imprecations; but, insensible to these insults, she gazed on the
populace with eyes beaming with serenity and compassion.
The sky cleared up, and the rain which wetted her to the
skin, displayed the exquisite symmetry of her form, like those
of a woman leaving the bath. Her hands bound behind her
back, obliged her to hold up her head, and this forced rigidity
of the muscles gave more fixity to her attitude, and set off the
outlines of her figure. The rays of the setting sun fedil on her




46                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
head; and her complexion, heightened by the red chemise,
seemed of an unearthly brilliancy.  Robespierre, Danton, and
Camille Deitnoulins, had placed themselves oni her passage, to
gaze on.her; for all those who anticipated assassination were
curious to study in her features tlHe expression of that fanaticism which might threaten them on the morrow.  Slhe resembled celestial vengeance appeased and transfigured, and from
time to time she seemed to seek a glance of intelligence on
which her eye could rest. Adam Lux awaited the cart at thle
entrance of the Rue St. Honor6, and followed it to the foot of
the scaffold.  "He engraved in his heart," to quote his own
words, " this.unuttera-ble sweetness amidst the barlbarous outcries of the crowd, that look so gentle, yet pl!enetrating,-these
vivid flashes that broke forth like burning ideas from  these
bright eyes, in which spoke a soul as intrepid as tender.
Charming eyes, which should have melted a stone."
Thus an enthusiastic and unearthly attaclhment accomp;tnied
lier, without her knowledge to the very scaffold, and prepared
to follow her, in hope of an eternal reunion. The cart stopped,
and Clharlotte, at the sight of tile fatal instrument, turned pale,
but, soon recovering herself, ascended the scaffold with a4
light and rapid a step as the long chtemise and her pinioned
arms permitted.  When the executioner, to bare lher neck, reimoved the handkerchief that covered hler bosom, this insult to
her modesty moved lher more than her im,,petiding death; then,
turning to the guillotine, she placed herself uinder the axe.
The heavy blade fell, and her head rolledl oil the scaffold. One.
of tile assistants, named Legros, took it in his hand and struck
it on tile cheek. It is said tlat a deep crimson suffusion overspread the face, as though dignity and modesty had for an
instant lasted longer even than life.
Such was the death of Marat; such were thle life and death
of Charlotte Corday. In the face of murder history dlares not
praise, and in the face of heroism, dares not condemn her. The
appreciation of such an act places us in tile terrible alternative
of blaming  virtue or applauding assassination. Like tile
painter who, despairing of rendering the expression of a mingled sentiment, cast a veil over the face of the figure, we must
leave this mystery to be debated in the abysses of the humrlan
heart. There are deeds of which men are no judges, and
which mount, without appeal direct to the tribunal of God.




CHARLOTTE CORDAY.
There are in human actions so strange a mixture of weakness
and strength, pure intent and culpable means, error and truth,
mnurder and martyrdom, that we know  not whether to term
them  critne or virtue. The culpable devotion of Charlotte
Corday is amongst those acts which admiration and horror
would leave eternally in doubt, did not morality reprove them.
Had we to find for this sublime liberatrix to her country, and
generous murderess of a tyrant, a name which should at once
convey the enthusiasm of our feelings towards her and the
severity of our judgment on her action, we would coin a
phrase combining the extreme of admiration and horror, and
termn her the Angel of Assassination.
A few days afierwards Adam Lux published the "Apology
of Clharlotte Corday," and associated himself with her deed, in
order to share her martyrdom. Arrested and sent to the
Abbaye, lie excl aimed, as lie entered the prison, " I shall die,
then for her."  He perishled soonl after, saluting as the altar of
liberty and love, the scaffold which the blood of his model had
hallowed. The her: istn of Charlotte was sung by the poet
Andre Ch6nier, who was himself so soon to die for that corn:l.ot fatherland of all great souls-pure liberty.
"Whose is this tomb?" sings the German poet, Klopstock.
"It is the tomb of Cilar'lotte. Let us gather flowers and scatter
them over her ashes, for she is dead for her country. No, no,
gather nothing; let us seek a weeping willow, and plant it o'er
her tomb, for she is dead for her country. No, no, plant nothing; but weep, and let your tears be blood, for she is dead in
vain for her country'" Vergniaud, on learning, in his dungeon, of the crime, trial, and death of Charlotte, exclaimed,
"She destroys us, but she teaches us how to die."




48               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.
THEIR TRIAL, CONVICTION AND EXECUTION FOR HIGH TREASON IN
IRELAND IN 1798.-SKETCH OF THE PATRIOTS.-FULL ACCOCNT
OF THEIR TRIAL AT DUBLIN.-THE PRISONERS PRO(SECUTED BY
ATTORNTFJY-GENERAL TOLER, AFTiE RWARDS THE N OTORIOUS
LORD NORBURY. —TFE ELOQUENT SPEECHES OF JOHN PHI.POT
CURRAN AND LORD PLUNKETT IN DEFENCE OF THE PRISONERS.TOUCHING LETTERS OF JOHN SHEARES TO HIS MOTHERS AND SIsTER PREVIOUS TO THE EXECUTION.-THE FINAL SCENE.-IIARROWING INCIDENTS AT ToH SCAFFOLD.- EXTRA.ORDINARY  APPE&RANCE OF THE BODIES ON BEING VIEWED SOME YEARS AFTER
IN THE VAULTS OF ST. MICH'AN'S CHURCH, DUBLIN, &C. &C.
Henry and John Sheares were sons of a Cork Banker, well
educated and well connected, both barristers, and at the "time of
the trial, Henry was forty-five years old, and married a second wife,
by whom he had a large family. John was thirty-two, a man of
fine feeling and vigorous intellect. They were men of very unequal characters. Henry, the eldest, was amiable, changeful, and
weak; John, the youngest, fiery and firm, and of much greater
abilities. Both had been to France, were present at the taking of
the Bastille, and John, who was thoroughly republican, witnessed
the downfall of the French monarchy, quenched in the blood of
Louis XVI., and was seen, after his return to Ireland, to exhibit
with delight a handkerchief stained with the royal blood of the unhappy king.
Henry's property was ~1,200 a year, which he encumbered;
John's ~3,000, on which he lived after lending his brother money;
Miss Steel, to whom John was engaged to be married, says he
" bought nothing but books." They resided in Bagott street (now No.
130), Dublin, and there Henry was arrested. John was arrested at
Surgeon Lawless's, in French street. They had been United Irishmen from 1793, and John was a frequent chairman, and apparently a
man of weight in " The Union." He contributed to " THE PREss,"
was peculiarly active with his brother in pushing the organization in
Cork, and became one of the executive. After the arrests of others of
the Patriots at Bond's in March, 1798, the Sheareses stepped into the




HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                49
dangerous posts and shared the same fate in ten days after; their
betraval, arrest and conviction, was brought about through a Captain Armstrong, who was the spy selected for the occas ion.
This John Warnford Armstrong was a man of good family, a
Captain in the Kings County Militia. He resided near the
town of Moat, at a place called Ballycumber, where he died a
few years ago; he was in receipt of a pension from the British Governmnent, the pirice of the Sheares' blood, up to his decease; then stationed at Loughlinstown Camp, between Dublin and Bray. On the
10th'of May, 1798, he went to the store of Byrne, a bookseller, in
Grafton street, a notorious member of the United Irish Society. He
was in the habit of bringing there the books current among the republicans, and Byrne (a feeble but not treacherous man) was absurd enough to introduce him to Henry Sheares at Armstrong's
own request. Henry declined communication, and went away, but
John (who had before noticed Armstrong in the store) soon came
in, was introduced, and plunged headlong into communication with
the spy. Frequent interviews followed. The means of taking the
Castle Island-bridge Barracks and Loughlinstown Camp were constant topics. On the twentieth of May [Sunday] he dined at Bagott
street, on John's invitation. The notorious Castlereigh encouraged
and instructed Armstrong in his treacherous movements. At this
meeting John informeed Armstrong on part of the executive, that he
was to command the Kings County forces, and discussed many raw
but important projects. Armstrong had thus formed the acquaintance to get the brothers in his clutches. On the twenty-first of'
May they were taken prisoners.
On their arrest a rough draft of a proclamation written by John
Sheares, was found in the writing desk of Henry. The latter knew
nothing of it. It was paraded in the front of the prosecution, Cap.
tain Armstrong being the main force of the attack.  Speaking of'
iim, Thomas Davis said, "This frightful wretch had sought the asc
quaintance of the Sheareses-made it-encouraged their proiects.assisted them with military hints-professed tender love for them
-mixed with their family-and used to dandle Henry Shleares'
children. We hear the technical monster denies this little fact,
though he admits all the rest. He shared their hospitality-urged
on their schemes-came to condole with them in prisoan-and then
assassinated them with his oath!"
THE TRIAL.
On the 26th of June, Chief Justice Lord Carleton, Baron
George and Justices Crookshank, Chamberlain and Daly,opened the Special Commission. After the grand juries for
Dublin city and county-were sworn, they were addressed by
Lord  Carleton; and  their numerous prisonera arraigned.
4




50               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
Two bills were found against Samuel Nelson, Michael Byrne,
Henry and John Sheares, John McCann, and Oliver Bond.
In those days the court assigned the counsel for the prisoner,
a concession granted by the 5th of George III., an act introduced by the father of the Sheares, when a member of the
Irish Parliament. Prior to that act, no person on a charge of
treason was entitled to the benefit of counsel.
The prosecution was conducted by the Attorney-General
Right -Ion. John Artllur Wolfe, the Solicitor-General, John
Toler (afterwards Lord Norbury), and the other counsel for
the crown  Mr. Prime Sergeant Fitzgerald with. Messrs.
Sanrin, O'Grady, Mayne, Webber and Ridgway,
The counsel for Henry Sheares were Mr. John Philfort
Curran and Mr. William Conynghlam Plunkett; counsel for John
Sheares, Messrs. Curran and McNally, assisted by.Messrs. Orr
and Finlay.
On the 4th of July, 1798, Lord Carleton, Baron Smith and
George and Justices Cirookshank and Daly sat; and Henry
and Jothn Sheares being put to the bar, their indictment for
High Treason was read by the clerk of the crown. The first
count stated sixteen overt acts. The second count was for associating as United Irishmen, &c.
Mr. McNally objectedl after some delay, that John Decluzean, one of the grand jurors, who found the bills, was an
alien, not naturalized, and filed a plea in court. The crown
replied, and Curran supported the plea as follows:My lords, we have looked over this replication, and we find
that the gentlemen concerned for the crown have thought
proper to plead in three ways. The subject matter of our plea
in abatement came very recently to our knowledge. To suppose that an alien had been upon the grand jury finding a bill
of indictment involving the duty of allegiance was a rare
thing; the suspicion of it came late to our knowledge. It would
have been our duty to be prepared, had we known it in time;
but as we did not, and as it is a plea of great novelty, we hope
the court will not think it unreasonable to give us time till tomorrow to answer this pleading.
The court over-ruled the application.
Mr. Curran-My lords, before we rejoin, it may be prudent
to consider, whether this replication should not be gqnashed.
There are three distinct matters in the replication, and they are




HENRY AND JOHN SHIEARES.                51
repugnant to one another. One is, that the juror is not an
alien; the second and third contain averhnents that he is an
alien. Clearly, in civil cases, a party cannot plead double
matter, without the leave of the court; even the statute which
gives that benefit, does not admit it without a special motion,
in order that the court may see whether the pleas can stand
together. But even that holds only in civil cases, and by the
authority of an act of parliament. Tl)erefure, your lordshlips
will consider, wlhether a replication of this kind, consisting of
three parts, contradictory and repugnant, ought to be answerled.
Lord Carleton-In civil cases, certainly, the right of pleading double arises from the act of parliament. As to the objection you now make, you must avail yourself of it in some other
way. We will not quash the replication upon motion.
A rejoinder and demurrer of insufficiency were then filed on
the part of the prisoners.
Mlr. Curran-My lords, it is my duty to suggest suchl reasons
as occur to me in support of the demurrer filed here on the
part of the prisoners. My lords, the law of this country has
declared that in order to the conviction of any man, not only
of any charge of the higher species of criminal offences, but of
any criminal charge whatsoever, he must be convicted upon
the finding of two juries; first, of the grand jury, who determine upon the guilt in one point of view; and, secondly, by
the corroborative finding of the petty jury, who establish that
guilt in a more direct manner; and it is the law of this country,
that the jurors who shall so find, whether upon the grand,I or
whether upon the petty inquest, shall be probi et legales
homines omni exceptione majores. They must be open to no
legal objection of personal incompetence..They must be capable of having freehold property; and, in order to have freehold property, they must not be open to the objection of being
born under the jurisdiction of a foreign prince, or owing allegiance to any foreign power. Because the law of this country,
and, indeed, the Jaw of every country in Europe, has thought
it an indispensable precaution, to trust no man with the weight
or influence which territorial possession may give him, contrary to that allegiance which ought to flow from every man
having property in the country.
This observation is emphatically forcible in every branch of
the criminal law; but in the law of treason, it was a degree of




52 0REMARKABLE TRIALS.
force and cogency that fails in every inferior class of offence,
because the very point to be inquired into in treason, is tile
nature of allegiance.
The peneral nature of allegiance may be pretty clear to every
man. Every man, however unlearned he fIay be, can easily
acquire such a notion of allegiance, whether n;ltural and born
with him, or whether it be temporary, and contracted by emigration into another country, lhe may acquire a vague, untechnical idea of allegiance, for his immediate personal conduct.
But I am warranted in saying, that the constitution does not
suppose, that any foreigner has any direct idea of allegiance,
but what he owes to his original prince. The constitution supposes, and takes for granted, that no foreigner has such an idea
of our peculiar and precise allegiance, as qualifies him.n to act.
as a juror, where that is the question to be inquired into: and
I found myself upon this known principle, that though the
benignity of the English law has in many cases, where strangers
are tried. giv~en a jury half composed of foreigners and half
natives, that benefit is denied to any man accused of treason,
for the reason I have stated; because, says Sir W. Blackstone,
" aliens are very improper judges of the breach of allegiance."
A foreigner is a most improper judge of what the allegiance is
which binds an English subject to his constitution.  And,
therefore, upon that idea of utter incompetency in a stranger,
is every foreigner directly remnoved and repelled from -the possibility of exercising a function that he is supposed utterly unable to discharge.
If one Fieenclhmnan shall be suffered to find a bill of indictment between our Lord the King and his subjects, by a parity
of reasoning, may twenty-three men of the same descent'be
put into the box, with authority to find a bill of indictment.
By the same reason that the court may communicate with one
man, whose language they do not know, may they communicate with twenty-tlhree natives of twenty-three different countries and languages.
How far do I mean to carry this?  Thus far: that every
statute, or means by which allegiance may be shaken off, and
any kind of benefit or privilege conferred upon an emigrating
foreigner, is for ever to be considered by a court of justice with
relation to that natural incompetency to perform certain trusts,
which is taken for granted, and established by the law of Eng



HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                  53
land. I urge it with this idea, that whether the privilege is
conferred by letters patent, making the foreigner a denizen,
or whether by act of parliament, making him as a native subject, the letters patent, or act of parliament, should be construed 8ecundum 8ubjectam materiam; and a court of justice
will take care, that no privilege' be supposed to be granted, incompatible with the original situation of the party to whom, or
the constitution of the country in which, it is conferred.
Thierefore, my lords, my clients have pleaded, that the bill of
indictment to which they have been called upon to answer, has
been found, among others, by a foreigner, born under a foreign
allegiance, and incapable of exercising tile right of a juror,
upon the gland, or the petty inquest.  That is the substance
of the plea in abatement. The counsel for the crown have replied, and we have demurred to the second and third parts of
the replication.
My lords, I take it to be a rule of law, not now to be ques.
tioned, that there is a distinction in our statute laws; some are
of a public, some of a private nature.
That part of the legislative edict which is considered as of a
public nature, is supposed to be recorded in the breasts of the
King's juldges. As the King's judges, you are the depositories
and the records of tlie public law of the country.
But wherever a private indulgence is granted, or a mere personal privilege conferred, the King's judges are not the depositories of slch laws, though enacted with the same publicity;
you are not the repositories of deeds or titles which give men
firanchises or estates, nor of those statutes which ease a man of
a disability, or grant him a privilege. With regard to the individual to whom  they relate, they are mere private acts,
muniments, or deeds, call them  by what name you please;
they are to be shown as private deeds, to such courts as it may
be thought necessary to bring them forward.  Therefore, if
there be any act of parliament, by which a man is enabled to
say lie has shaken off the disability which prevented him fromn
intermeddling in the political or judicial arrangement of the
country; if he says he is no longer to be considered as an
alien, he must show that act specially to the court in his pleading. The p;articular authority,'whether by letters of denization,
or act of parliament, must be set forth, that the court may
judge of the,u, that if itbe,by act of parliament, the court may




64                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
see whether hlie comes within the provisions of the act. This
replication does no such thing.
The second and the third parts were intended to be founded
upon the statute of Chlarles II, and also, I suppose, upon the
subsequent statute, made to give it lelpetuity, with certain
additional requisites. The statute of C(harles recites, that the
kingdom was wasted by the unfortunate troubles of that time;
and that trade head decreased, for want of merchants. After
thus stating generally the grievances which had afflicted the
trade and population of the country, and the necessity of encouraging emigration from abroad, it goes on and says, that
strangers may be induced to transport themselves and families,
to replenish the country, if they may be made partakers of the
advantages and free exercise of their trades, without interruption and disturbance.
The grievance was the scarcity of men; the remedy was tile
encouragement of foreigners to transport thelnselves: and the
encouragement given was such a degree of protection, as was
necessary to the full exercises of their trades, in dealing, buying,
and selling, and enjoying the fullest extent of personal security.
Therefore, it enacts, that all foreigners, of t he Protestant religion, and all merchants, &c., who shall, within the term of seven
years, transport themselves to this country, slhall be deemed
and reputed natural-born subjects, and may (imiplead and be.impleaded, and prosecute and defend suits.
The intention was to give them protection for the purposes
for which they were encouraged to come here; and therefore
the statute, instead of saying generally they shall be subjects
to all intents and purposes, specifically enumerates the privileges they shall enjoy. If thie legislature intended to make
theinm subjects to all intents and purposes, it llad nothing more
to do tlian say so. But not having meant any sucl thling, the
statute is confined to the enumeration of tile mere hospitable
righits and privileges to be granted to stich foreigners as come
here for special purposes. It states, that he may imuplead, and
slhall be answ/ered unto, that he may prosecute and defend
suits. Why go on and tell a man, who is to all intents and
purposes a natural-born subject, that he may'inplead and
bring actions? I say, it is to all intents  pnd purposes absurd
and preposterous. If all privileges be granted in the first
instance, why mention particular parts afterwards a A man




HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                  55
would be esteemed absurd, who by his grant gave a thing
under a general description, and afterwards granted the particular parts. What would be thought of a man whlo gave
another his horse, and then said to the grantee, "I also give
you liberty to ride him when and where you please?"
What was the case here a The government of Ireland said,
we want men of skill and industry, we invite you to'corne over,
our intention is, that if you be Protestants, )ou sliall be protected: but you are not to be judges, or legislators, or kings.
We ma.ke an act of parliament, giving you protection and encouragement to follow the trades for your knowledge in which
we invite you; you are to exercise your trade as a natural-born
subject.  How?  With full power to make a bargalin and enforce it: we invest you with thie same power, and you shall
have the samne benefit, as if you were appealing to youlr OWn
natural form of public justice; you shall be here as a Frenchman in Paris, buying selling the commodities appertainiig, to
your trade.
Look at another clause in the act of pailiament, whiclh is said
to make a legislator of this man, or a juror, to pass upon the
life and death of a fellow-subject, —no, not a fellow-sulbject, but a
stranger.  It salys, "you may purcllase an estate, and youmay
enjoy it, without being a trustee for the crown."  W"hy was
that necessary, if he were a subject to all 2ntents and purposes?
This statute had continuance for the period of seven years
only: that is, it limited the time in which a foreigner  igllht
avail himself of its benefits to seven years.  The statute 4
George I. revives it, and makes it perpetual.  I trust I may
say, that whepever, an act of parliament is made, giving perpetuity to a former act, no greater force or operation can be
given to the latter, than would have been given to the former,
had it been declared perpetual at the time of its enactment.
An act of that kind is merely to cure the defect of continuance; therefore, it does no more than is necessary to that end.
Then how will it stand? Thus: that any man, who, within
seven years after the passing of the act of Charles II. performing the requisities there mentioned, shall have the privileges
thereby granted for ever thereafter.  The court would assume
the office of legislation, not of construction, if they inferred or
supplied by intendment, a longer period than seven years;
there is nothing in the subsequent act, changing the term  of




5 6               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
seven years limited in the former; it is not competent to a
court of justice to alter or extend the operation of a statute by
the introduction of clauses not to be found in it.  It is the
business of the legislature to enact laws, of the court to expound
them.
It is worthy of observation, my lords, that this subsequent
statute has annexed certain explicit conditions to be performed
by the person who is to take the benefit of the preceding act;
for it is-provided, that no person shall have the benefit of the
former act, unless he take the several oaths appointed to be taken
by the latter; among which, is the oath against the Pretender,
which is not stated in the replication.
There is a circumstance in the latter act, which, with regard
to the argument, is extremely strong, to show, that tile legislature
did not intend to grant the universal franchise and privilege to
all intents and purposes. It revives every part of the former,
save that part exempting aliens from the payment of excise.
Will it be contended, that an alien should be considered as a
natural-born subject to all intents and purposes, and yet be
exempt from the payment of excise? It is absurd, and impossible.
Put it in another point of view. What is an act of naturalization?  It is an encroachment upon the common law rights,
which every man born in this country has in it; those rights
are encroached upon and taken away by a stranger. The
statute therefore should be construed with the rigour of a penal
law. The court, to be sure, will see, that the stranger has the
full benefit intended for him by the statute; but they will not
give him any privilege inconsistent with the iights of the naturalborn subjects, or incompatible with the fundamental principles
of the constitution into which he is admitted; and I found myself upon this, that:after declaring that he shall be considered
as a natural-born subject, the act states such privileges only as
are necessary to the exercise of trade and the enjoyment of
property.
Therefore, it comes back to the observation just now made.
Is not any man pleading a statute of naturalization, by which he
claims to be considered as a natural-born subject, bound to set
forth a compliance with all the requisites pointed out by that
statute?  He is made a native to a certain extent, upon complying with certain conditions; is he not bound to state that




HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                 57
compliance? Here he has not stated them. But I go farther;
I say, that every condition mentioned in the statute of Charles,
should be set forth in the second part of the replication; that he
came with an intent of settling; that he brought his family and
his stock; that he took the oaths before the proper magistrates;
and after a minute statement of every fact, he should state the
additional oath required by the statute George I.
But, my lords, a great question remains behind to be decided
upon. I know of no case upon it. I-do not pretend to say, that
the industry of other men may not have discovered a case. But
I would not be surprised, if no such case could be found; if since
the history of the administration of justice in all its forms in
England, a stranger had not been found intruding himself into
its concerns; if through the entire history of our courts of justice,
an instance was not to be found, of the folly of a stranger interfering upon so awful a subject, as the breach of allegiance between a subject and his king.
My lords, I beg leave upon this part to say, that it would be
a most formidable thing. if a court of justice wotild pronounce
a determination big with danger, if they said that an alien
may find a bill of indictment involving the doctrine of allegiance. It is permitting him to intertneddle in a business of
which he cannot be supposed to have ally knowledge. Shall
a subject of the Irish crown be chlarg(ed with a breach of' lis
allegiance upon the saying of a German, an italian, a Frenchman or a Spaniard?  Can any man suppose any thing more
monstrous or absurd, than that of a stranger beirlg cominpetent
to form an opinion upon the subject? I would not foirn a supposition upon it. At a time when the generals, the admirals,
and the captains of France are endeavoring to pour their
armies upon us, shall we permit their petty detachments to
attack us in jdicial hostility? Sliall we sit inactive, and see
their skirmishers take off our fellow-subjects by explosion in a
jury room?
When did this man conme into the country? Is the raft upon
which hlie floated now in court? What has he said upon the
back of the bill?  What understanding had he of it? If he
can write more than his own name, and had wrote ignoramus
up.on the back of the indictinent, lle might have written truly;
he might say, he knew nothing of the matter.
le says he is naturalized; I am glad of it; you are wel



68                 REMARKABLE TRIALS.
come to Ireland, sir; you shall hlave all the p!ivileg:-s of a
stranger, independent of the invitation by which you came;
if you sell, you shall recover the price of your wares, you shall
enforce the contract; if you purchase an estate, you shall
transmit it to your child,'en, if you have any, if not, your devisee shall have it. But you must know, that in this constitution, there are laws binding upon the court as strolngly as upon
you; the statute itself which confers the privileges you einjy,
makes you incpable of dischar(ing offices. Whlly   Because
they go to the fundamentals -of the constitution, and belong
only to those Inen who have'an interest in that constitution
transmitted to them ftorn their ancestors.
Therefore, ny lords, the foreigner inlust be content; he shall
be kept apart from  the judicial functions; in tlle extensive
words o)f the act of parliament, he shall be kept from  "all
places ot trulst whatsoever."  If the act had been silent in
that part, the court would notwithstanding be bound to say,
that,'it did not confer the power of filling the high department of the state. The alien would still be incapable of sitting
in either house of parliament, he would be incaflable If advising with tile king, or tholding any place of constitutional trust
whatever.  What! shall it be said, t.lere is no)'trust in the
office of a grand jutrorl. I do not speak or th nk lightly of the
sacred office confided to your lordships of adlniinstering, justice between the crown and the subject, or between subject
and subject: I do not compare the office of a grand`juror to
that.  Bat, in the name of God, with regard to the issues of
life and death, with regard to the consequences of ilnputed or
established criminality, what difference is there, in the ilnpoitance of the constitution, between the juror who b)rings in a
verdict, and the judge who pronounces upon that verdict the
sentence of the law? Shll it be said, that the former is no
place of trust?  What is the place of trust meant by the
statute? It is not merely giving a thing to another, or depositing for safe custody, it means constitutional trust, the trust
of executing given departments, in which the highest confidence must be reposed in the man appointed to perform them.
It means not the- trust of keeping a paltry chattel, it means
the awful trust of keeping the secrets of the state, and of the
king.
Look at the weight of the obligation imposed upon the




HENRY A-ND JOHN SHEARES.                  59
juror; loojk at the enormoulls extent of the danger, if he violate
or disregard it. At a time like the present, a timne of war,
what is the trust to be confided to the conscience of al Fr'erclhman? But I am speaking of the lives of my client,, and I do
not c(loose, even here to state the terms of the trust, lest I
might furnish as many hints of mischief, as I am anxious to
furnish arguments of defence.  Ba't shall a Frenchman, at this
moment, be entrusted with those secrets upon which your sitting upon that bench may eventually depend.  What is tile
inquiry to be made?  Having been a pedlar in the conllltry, is
he to have the selling of the country, if he be inclined to do
so? Is he to have confided to hirn the secrets of the state?
He may reinember to have lacnd a fJist- allengiance, that lie has
sworn so it: he might find civilians to aid his perfidious logic,
and to tell -Iiiin, that a secret communicated to him  by tile
humranity of the country which received hiln, might be disclosd to the older and better matured allegiance swornl to a
formner power! He migllt give up the prefidi)ons use of his
conscience to the.integrity of the older title.  Sliall the power
of calling upon an Irishmanrt to take his trial before al Irish!
judge, before "the country,' be left to the broken speech, the
lingua Franca, of a strm nger coming among you and saying,
I was naturalised by act of parliament, and I cannot carry oni
my trade without dealing in the blood of your citizens.
He holds up your statute as his protection, and flings it
against your liberty, claiming the rigilt of exercising, ajudicial
function, feelinge at the same time, the honest love for an older
title to allegiance.  It is a love which every mant ought to feel,
and which every subject of this country would feel if lie left
this country tomorrow, and went to spend h'is last hlou among
the IHottentots of Afrtica. I do trust in God, there is not a
man who hears me, who does not feel, that he would carlry with
him to the remotest part of the g(lobe, the old ties which bound
him to his original friends, his country, and his king:  I do as
the advocate of my clients, of my country-as the advocate
for you, my lords, whose elevation pirevents you fi'ron the possibility of having advocates for yourselves,-for your 9llildren,
stand up and rely upon it, that this act of parliament has been
confined to a limited operation. It was enacted for a limited
purpose, and will not allow this meddlinlg stranger to pass
upon the life, fame or fortune of the gentlemen at the bar,-of




60               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
me, their advocate,-of you their judges,-or of any man in
the nation.
My lords, you deny him no advantage that strangers ought
to have. By extending the statute, you take away the right
from a native of the country, and you transfer one to an intermeddling stranger. I do not mean to use him with disrespect;
he may be a respectable and worthy man; but whatever lie
may be, I do with humble reliance upon the justice of the
court, deprecate the idea of communicating to him that high,
awful, and tremendous privilege of passing upon life, of expounding the law in cases of treason; it being a fundamental
maxim that strangers will, most improperly, be called upon to
judge of breaches of allegiance between a subject and his
sovereign.
The counsel for the crown replied and contended- that by
the 14th and 15th of Chas. II. chap. 23, for the encouragement
of foreigners of the Protestant religion settling as colonists in
Ireland, aliens, having taken the oaths of supremacy and allegiance in being of the Protestant religion were to be reputed
as lieges, free and natural subjects of his Majesty's Kingdom in
all respects, construction and purposes, as if they had been
born in the Kingdom of Ireland.
The Court overruled the objection.
Affidavits were then put in on part of the prisoners stating
that material witnesses, without the benefit of whose testimorny
the prisoners could not go to trial, were to be summoned from
distant parts of the Kingdom, and a postponement of thleir
trials was prayed for on these grounds. The witnesses named
by John Sheares were Sir Joseph Hoare, Sir Richard Kellet,
Sir Patrick O'Connor, Rev. Mr. Lee, Rev. Mr. Stowell, Mr.
Htenry and Edward Hoare, Esq., and the Earl of Cork and
Orrery. Some of these gentlemen were the intimate frienlds of
the father of the prisoners. The Rev. Mr. Lee was the tutor of
the younger prisoner.
The Solicitor-General urgently opposed the postponement,
as the public he said were waiting the event of it with anxious
expectation, and though he would not wish to accelerate it, yet
he felt the disposal of it was of great importance.
Lord Carlleton, however, acceded to the application, and the
trial was postponed to 12th July following.
In the interim, Arthur Wolfe, (subsequently Lord Kilwar



HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                 61
den) was elevated to the Bench, and Toler became AttorneyGeneral, and acted in that capacity at the trial; Mr. Stewart
being made Solicitor-General.
SPECIAL COMMISSION,
Dublin, July, 1798.
Before Lord CARLETON, Barons SMITH and GEORGE, arid
Justices CROOKSHANK and DALY.
On July, 12 1798, the trial was regularly commenced, at the
desire of John Sheares. Mr. Ponsonby was assigned as one of
his counsel in the place of Mr. Curran, in order that each prisoner should have four counsel between them.
The Clerk of the Crown then called over the panel of
Jurors, when the following Jury, composed of,men of high
respectability, and compared with the ordinary Juries of this
frighltful period, Was one that the prisoners might have thought
an honest-and impartial one.
Sir Tllomas Lighlton, Foreman, Robert Shaw, Price Blackwood, John Stewart, George Palmner, Hen-ry Wo,dwuard, Richard Sayers, John Farange, Cornelius Gantier, William Sparrow, Charlles Bingham, and John Ferns.
Some of these were intimate friends of Curran; the last
mentioned gentleman, one of hlis convivial associates. It was
to this intimacy Curran alluded at the commencement of his
speech, when in referring to the atrocious statement of the
Attorney-General, that. the public mind required to be appeased
by the speedy disposal of this case.
The traversers' counsel were John Philpot Curran, Mr. Plunket, Mr. McNally, and Mr. George Ponsonby, with Mr. Armstrong Fitzgerald as agent.
Mr. Webber opened the pleadings, and Toler as AttorneyGeneral stated the case for the prosecution to the Jury. This
speech, says Dr. Madden, was one of the most rancorous, and
so far as concerned Henry Sheares, one of the most unjustifiable
speeches that was ever pronounced by a public prosecutor.
Not only facts were distorted, circumstances favorable to the
prisoner suppressed, but statements were boldly made, utterly
at variance with the evidence he had to adduce on the part of
the prosecution.
He commenced his speech by describing the prisoners as
"gentlemen of that profession to which he belonged, and to
which he was bound by every tie of affection, regard, and grati



62                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
tude that can bind a man of honorable feelings."  A  little
further lie designates them  "'as mlen of considerable talents
and learning in the law."  And in a subsequent sentence, he
says:-1" The prisoners were not persons such as had been seen
too frequently on the circuits which they had attended as barristers; men of a low rank in life, unlettered, unacquainted
with the excellence of the law under which they lived; nor
were they men, whose ignorance, at the same time that it exposed them to being made the wretched instruments of seduction, rendered them rather, objects of pity than punishment.
No! the gentlemen of the julry would find, in the course of
the trial, that tlhe prisoners were no strangers to literary pursuits, or to the exercise of talents." IHe then proceeded to
preface his vituperation against the prisoners, with a declaration of the pain enforced on him by his duty as a public prosecutor on suchl an occasion. He said: "There was not a man
who knew him in private life, that did not know it weighed
heavily upon hitm."  There was not a man living acquainted
with the character of the learned gentleman, who knew that a
feeling of compunction in the discharge of any duty, however
awful, ever weighed one jot on his mind.
"' But mistaken lenity," added Mr. Toler, "' to atrocious delinquents is at all times'crudelis misericordia' with respect to
the public. A  banditti of men associated under the denomination of United Irishmen, imported French principles,
and improved on themm; the pen and tongue of every revolutionary ruffian was put in requisition,-these were the principles
and doctrines which appro:lclled us like plague, pestilence and
famine, and were the dreadful presagers and forerunners of battle, murder and sudden death."  He says it would be illiberal
to overbear men in the situation of the prisoners with the language of insult;" and lie then proceeds to denominate them
assassins and cowards as well as traitors. In alluding to the
paper written by John Sheares, he asks," who can read the
bloody scroll, and not pronounce upon the intentions and imagination of the heart which composed it?"-and whilst he thus
beheld it, he thought he had in fill and palpable form before
him, the sanguinary author penning it, with his bloody dagger
in one hand, and pointing in triumph to the revolutionary tribunal and guillotine with the other. I admire the wisdom of
the laws of those countries, which put traitors and cowards in




HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                  63
the same class as public criminals; and I am  free to say, that
the man who is a traitor or coward enough, not to take that
unequivocal part which becomes him  at such a time as this,
deserves the severest punishment, and the execration of his
country."  With this observation, and a remark that there was
not a single line of the paper in question, the effect of which
was not
"But to teach
Bloody instruction, which, being taught, returns
To plague the inventor."
*    *    *    *   he committed the case of the prisoners to
God and his country, without being able so far to preserve the
common decency of his office as crown prosecutor, as to conclude his laborious effort to establish the guilt of the prisoners,
with tile ordinalry folrmn of recommendation to the jury, of giving the accused the benefit of any doubt that might be favorable to them in the evidence adduced against them."
The first witness called for the prosecution. was Alderman
Alexander, who proved " that lie found in Jolln's open desk,
in Diagott's street, the following paper. (The words in italids
were in erlined; those between the crochets were struck across
with the pen.)
" IRISHMEN,
[" Your country is free; all those monsters who usurped its
government to oppress its people are in our hands, except such
as have]
"Your country is free and you are about to be avenged
[already] that vile government which has so long and so
cruelly oppressed you is no more; some of' its most atrocious monsters hlave already paid the forfeit of their lives, and
the rest are in our hlands [waiting their fate.]  The national
flag, the sacred green, is at this moment flying over the ruins
of despotism, and that capitol which a- few hours past [was the
scene] witnessed the debauchery, Ltlle maclinations] plots and
crimnes of your tyrants, is now the citadel of triumphant patriotismn and virtue.  Arise, then, u nited sons of Ireland; arise like a
great and powerful people determined to [live] be free or die;
arm yourselves by every means in your power, and rush like lions
on your foes; consider, that [in disarming yonr enemy] f,r
every enemy you disarm, you arm a friend, and ithus become




64                 REMARKABLE. TRIALS.
doubly powerfull; in the cause of liberty, inaction is cowardice,
and the coward shall forfeit the property he has not the courage
to protect. Let his arms be seized and transferred to those
gallant [patriots] spirits who want, and will use them; yes,
Irishmlen, we swear by that eternal justice, in whose cause you
fight, that the brave patriot, who survives the present glorious
struggle, and the family of himn who has fallen, or shall fall
hereafter in it, shall receive from the hands of a grateful nation
an ample recompense out of [tho.e funds] that property which
the crimes of our enemies [shall] have forfeited into its bands,
and:lis name [too] shall be iilscribed on the national recortl of
Irish revolution, as a glorious example to all posterity; but
we likewise swear to punish robbery with death and infamy.
"We also swear that we will never sheathe the sword until
every [person] being in the country, is restored to those equal
rights, which the God of nature h s given to all men; until an
order of things shall be established, in which no superiority
shall be acknowledged among the citizens of Erin, but that
[which] of virtue and talent [shall -entitle to.]
" [As for those degenerate wretches who turn their swords
against their native country, the national vengeance awaits
them. Let them find no quarter unless they shill prove their
repentance by speedily deserting, exchanging from the standard of slavery, for that of freedom, under which their former
errors may be buried, and they may share the glory and advan-tages that are due to the patriot bands of Ireland.]' Many of the military feel the love of liberty glow within
their breasts, and have [already to] joined the national standard; receive [those] with open arms, such as shall follow so glorious an example, they can render signal service to the cause of
treedol, and shall be rewarded according to their deserts: but
for the wretch who turns his sword against his'country, let the
national vengeance be visited on him, let him find no quarter,
two other crimes demand"Rouse all the energies of your souls; call forth all the
merit and abilities which a vicious government consigned to
obscurity, and under the conduct of your chosen leaders march
with a steady step to victory; iheed not the glare of [a mnercenary] hired soldiery, or aristocratic yeomanry, they cannot stand
the vigorous shock of freemen, [close with them  man to man,
and let them see what vigor the cause of freedom can.] Their




HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                 65'
trappings and their arnms will soon be yours, and the detested
governllent of Englalld to which we vow eternal hatred, slhall
learn that the treasulres [she it] they exhaust on [their mercenary] its accoutered slaves for thie purpose of butchering Irishmen, shall but furthller enable us to learn to turn their swords
on its devoted head.
Attack them in every direction by day and by night; avail
yourselves of the natural advantages of your country, which
are innumerable, and with which you are better acq.lainted
than. they; where you cannot oppose them in full force, constantly harrass their rear and their flanks; cut off their provisions, and magazines, and prevent them as much as possible
from uniting their forces; but whatever moment you cannot
[pass himr] devote to fighting for your country, be [devoted to]
passed in learning hlow to fight for it, or preparing the means
of war; for war, war alone, must occupy every mind and
every hand in Ireland until its long oppressed soil be purged
of all its enetnies.,
Vengeance, Irisllmen, vengeance on your oppressors. Remember what thousands of your dearest friends have perished
by their [murders, cruel plots,] merciless orders; remember
their burnings, their rackings, their torturing, their military
massacres, and their legal murders. leemember Orr.
Mlr. Dwyer, Secretary to. the Attorney-general, was the next
witness called, who proved that he was intimately acqtuainted
by professional intercourse with both the Sheares, knew their
handiwriting, and the proclamation was the handwriting of John,
and also proved to the documents as being in the: handwriting
of Ilenury.
Cross examined: Both of these gentlemen are of unblemished character as men of honor and integrity. I come here
reluctantly to testify in this case.
The Crown next called as a witness Captain John W. Arm.
strong, who was examined by Mr. Sawrin; the witness detailed his meeting with the Sheareses, his conversation with
them; that John had undertaken to find what United men were
in Armstrong's regiment; that the witness entreated secrecy on
John's part,-that he called on the- brothers at their house at
4 o'clock, P. M., on the 10th of May, and there discussed the
taking of the camp at Leighlinstown; he also maet them on the
5




66                 REMARKABL-E TRIALS.
evenings of the. llth and 12th, and dined with him on Sunday,
when after dinner: John wrote down many names of officels
and men, including Captain:Crofton, Lieutenant Wilkinsonl, &c.,
who could be trelied on. A return of the number orgaznized
and. armed men i-r tthe! different: counties was also written on
the satne paper.  Tllis paper was produced in Court,, and proven to be found on: the -person of John at the tiime of his arrest.
Tlat when the- prisoners were taken; to- the g:uard room of
the castle, and: whiletlhere in~ custody' Armlstroug_ callHed on
John, expressed his -apparent s-urpise and eoncern at seeing the
prisoner there, inquired if there was:any danger of the prisoner,
or if the governmen,:lt: iad any charge against: him —offered hisi
services in the lm-ost friendly mannmer. The prisoner expressed
his gratification: for his friendly visit: and atteni-tion:;: l}e also remarked that all he: feared was: that a certain  paper had been
founlld in his desk; that it it- was, he would certainly be comimitted, and recommended thei. witntess:to withdraw i nmnedin.ate1y fiorn thle room, lest aiiy injurious suspicion, miglht attach
upon hi!rm, if seerl in conversation. with him, the prisoner; and
requested the: witness to call on hiis family arnd pacify their
fears, which he promised to do, and departed.:
Armstrong's cross-examliniation: by Ml[r. Curran was very
searching, terse: and bitter.
The leading features of the cross-examination are as follows:
Witness first became acquainted with the- Sheares at Byrne's
book-store in Graftoon street  subsequently, visited at their house
in Bagot street; diined with, the fanmil}y; had a oon versation; a-bout
politics after4 dinneri;:don't remember of speaking in harsh
terms of the-g.vernimment, the cllaneellor or- the Speaker of tlhe
HIlse; might have done so; am a captain in the Kings County
Militia; after making: the- a(cqua.intanace of the prisolners was
not in active service,: nor until after their arrest; was not allowed to join my own regiment, which- was then in service some
distance. from:DubliXn. This was by prohibition fr,m Lord
Castelreagh. I was. desirous -to get in active service, and vol
unteered and ob-tain-ed the command of the Gren-adier cornpany
of the Londonderrv  Militima  I was one of the few who, eseaped
with life:at. tihe unfortunat& battle! of Slievebary Mountain.
where ColoneI Walpole. was killed and his party diseomrfitted.
wls woun-ded at this place i'm the oengagement onl thle 4th, of
June; this:was -a fortnight after my last interview with tlhe




HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                  67
Sheares and six weeks prior to this trial; our p)arty caught
three of the peasants; one of them I had hanged for refusing
to give information, the other was shl-ot, and the third was suspended, taken down and or'dered twenty-five lashes.  When he
received eight, he cried oRt that he would give inflormation;!we
then made -a guide of him.
Mr. Curran. —Which did you maike a guide of?
Armstrong, (jocularly).- The one that was neither shot or
hanged.
Mr. Curran —:Whent:   yo;     dined at the house of the traversers
did you riot caress thl:e' childdren of Heln-ry-, and takle them in
your arms?
Armstrong. —-I did not. I don't remember.
Q. Do you believe in the existen'ce of a deity, and a future
state of rewards and punishmenelts
A. I have always professed tllat belief, and have never denied the obligation of an: oath.  i have never said " that if no
person could be found- to cut off the heard of the King: of England, that I would do it."  I have never declaired " that the
worlks of Paine cowtained my creed." Was instructed by Lo,'d
Castelreagh to dine with the prisoniers, anld extract if possible,
all their seerets.
This concluded the- case for the prosecution.
An application for adjournment on the patt of the prisoners
was thern made, blut in vainl. Counsel were desi;red to proceed
with the defence, whlenMr. G. Ponsonby opened- oil tfhe: part of JSohn Sheares, and
comimented severely oii the law  f- high tr6ashon in Ireland,
where- one wi-tness was suffH ienft to' convic't, and that witness in
this case being aspy and'informer, whe, wereas the law of England
required two' witnesses- in order to secure conviction.  lie anim:adverted with gfeat severity on'Captaiin  Armstrong's testimony-, and said of 1him:  "I know -not hlowyou will be; inclined
to appreciate the conduct of a man who gets infto- the confidence
of another for the ptrpose of acquiring a knowuledge of matters
he could: not otherwise obtain, and niake use of that'knowledge
against -lhe lfe of a person -from whomn h-e obtaIned it!-and
yet, if we believe him, he did-this. I pass no-opin:ion-l on such
condiuct, I leave that: for yout to do'; bu-t tlhis I will say, thlat if
I were a juryman, I would. not be: quick to convict upon the




68;               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
evidence of a man who acknowledged that he became the
friend of another for the purpose of betraying the friendshlip
and takinlg away- the life of that fiiend."
On the conclutsionl of Mr. Ponsonby's address, Mr. Plunket
followed in behalf of Henry,. in a very able and luminous
argument, and after speaking to the points of law in the case,
he continued the argument as follows:!MY LORDS AND GENTLEMEN:
A very few observations remain in point of fact. What I
have hitherto said applies to both the prisoners, so far as respects the law of the case. But with regard to the facts, I
must trouble you, upon the case of Mr. Henry Sheares, mnuch
less indeed than I would otherwise do, if I was not to be followed by a very able advocate, who will speak to the evidence.
With regard to Mr. Henry Sheares, the evidence against him
rests upon the testimony of Captain Armstrong alone. As to
the law stated by Mr. Ponsonby, of two witnesses being necessary, I will not give any positive opinion upon it. I do not
pretend to say whether the statute in England enacted a new
law, or only declared the old. There are great authorities,
who say it is only a declaratory statute-among others, Lord
Coke says, two witnesses were necessary by the common law.
If he be right, we are entitled to the benefit of the common
law, and will claim it. But I throw that out of the case-not
concluded indeed; but supposing that, in point of law, the testimonly of one witness is sufficient to convict, I beg leave to
observe upon the nature of that testimony; which kind of
story it is which fell from the lips of the witness-how far it
is natural or probable, or entitled to credit, merits your consideration, when compared with your observance upon life and
manners. That so rash and indiscreet a confidence should be
reposed in this stripling, without any previous acquaintance
of himself, his life, or manners-without any pledge of
secrecy-but rashly and suddenly, as if he had fallen in love
with him upon first interview —is matter for your conjecture.
How far it was an honorable ministry, is for your judgment.
In the case of a common informer, his evidence is weighed
with caution. Every circumstance throwing a doubt upon it
is to be attended to. If the testimony exceeds the common




HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                 69
rules of life and course of experience, the jury are cautious in
admitting it. But this is not the case of a common informer.
It is not the case of an accomplice, who repents his crimle.
That mnight be the fate of an honorable mind. A man Inay be
involved in the guilt of conspiring or treason, ar(id retrieve himnself nobly by making an atonement to his country and his
God, by a fair and full confession of the crime. But that is
not the case here. This is the case of a Inan going for the purpose of creating and producing guilt, that he might make
discovery of it. Does it not appear that the conception of the
guilt was entertained in the mind, if not fomented by the witness. You are to consider the different motives and movements of the human heart, and how wavering dispositions may
be taken advantage of, and urged on by dexterous persuasion
to a conduct which the seduced may abhor. You are not now
trying whether the prisoner be a man of strong frame-of firm
nerves and mind, capable of resisting allurements of guilt and
temptation to vice. But you are to try whether the evidence
has satisfied you that he has been guilty of treason.
Suppose now the evidence to be true: would it not shake
the mind of an ordinary man, not of the most strong and firm
disposition, if he saw an officer of the camp making declarations hostile to government-making a sacrifice of his situation, saying, "I will betray the camp which I am appointed to
guard " —if he goes and persecutes another with his volunteering treason, fastens upon him in the streets, follows him abroad,
and haunts him at his houe; I say, are you surprised at seeing
the otherlisten for a moment to the temptation, when he perceives that the man whose more immediate duty it is to resist
the treason, has adopted it? I say this, supposing for a moment that the evidence is true; I will show you presently it is
not.
Was it the part of an honost man to seek repeated interviews
-to follow the other to his house and into the bosom of his
family, until at last he lodged himn in a jail? Did he know the.prisoners before?-was he acqaainted wi tll their lives and characters? No; but, seized with a sudden zeal of turning informer against them, he insinuates himself into their acquaintance.
I can conceive the zeal of an honest mind in the moment of
mistaken. enthusiasm to be led into an act of vice to save his
country. I can conceive an exertion of Roman virtue flinging




70                 REMARKABLE TRIALS.
morals into the gulf as a sacrifice to patriotism. But what,
life must there have been to claim praise for that act of ellthu
siastic ardour? There must have been a life of religious feel.
ings, of continued virtue, anld disinterested, honorable views.
In such a case you can, by exerting your imagination, account
for an act of perfidy to save the country. But does this wit,
ness stand in theat point of view? No, gentlemen, by his own
confession he is convicted, and we shall slhow by a crowd of
witn.neses, whose characters are above impultation, that he does
not believe in the existence of God, or a filt!tre state of rewards
and pulistlinents —tht he is a notorious republican, and.devoid
of the principles of loyalty. Hear his own account. Was he
a man of decided loyalty-attached to lis king and collntry?
No; he confessed he had been in thle habit of reading:l Paine's
pamphllets —his Rights of Yan and his Age of Reasona-his
creed was founded upon these, and he drinks republicanism as
a toast-and this man, the companion of Byrne, anrd who had
been foolishly democratic, engages in conference with Mr.
Shleares, and enters upon the new office of informer for the good
of hlis country: -It is surprisillg that bttween the violenlce of
republicanism and the zeal of an informer tfor the crown, the
mean prmportion of virtuous patriotism  could not *be found!
The friend of Mr. Patrick Byrne-the drinker of repub:lican
toasts, suddenly becolnes a spy for the good of his coun try!
You see, gentlemen, the evidence which has been laid before
you. Is there any one fact brought forward, except the naked
testimolly of this infolrmer, to fa-ten guilt upon Mr. Henry
Sheares? He has chosen his time of interview with great discretion; no person has been present at the conversatik.ns, but
tlhe prisoners, who cannot give evidence for each other. Has
tlhe person who introduced them been brought forward, or the
sergeant of the militia?  They are inl the power of the crown;
or did th:e counsel for the prosecution conceive' this witness to
be so ilnmnaculate, that he could not be impeached:, and not
necessi:ry to be supplorted? Why not produce Connors? He
is in tlhe barrack.  Whynot produc.e Byrne?  He is in pris)n.
Why pot produce Fannarn V Why not produce any one to give
steadiness to the tottering evidence of this mnan I
Gentle-men, as to the proclamation which has been comnimented up.on, it is not in the handwriting of the plisoner, Mr.
Henry Sheares. It was not'in his possession; he knew noth



HENR-Y A-ND J0IIHN SHEARES.             71
ing of it; he had an opportunity of destroying it, if lhe chose,
or knew of it. Whatever thle effect of it may le, as tpplying
to the otller prisoner, I Ineddlie not with it. But I do niot thfink
it affects the other, and most certainly, gentlemen, tile court
will tell you, that this evidence is net to weigh a featler upon
your inilids in determining the case of one man, to wtlom it
does not apply, although it nmay be thought to have so:ale -relation to another. It is an unpubli.:hed, blotted, and ufinished
paper. The mere circumstance of that blotted paper' being
found in the lhouse of Mr. Henry Sheares, wh}ere Mr. John
Sheares resorted-not received by Mr. Henry. Sheares, not
acknowledged by hirnm; on the contrary, from the evidence you
must infer lie knew nothing about it-cannot weigh with you,
nor affect his life. Is it proved that Mr. Henry Slheares did
any act —corrupted anyoman, or frequented any society, or took
any political step, beyond the mere coloriung which Captain
Armstrong gives to the conversation between them?  And lhow
is that, with regard to Mr. Henry Sheares?  Did he appear
eager to gain proselytes?  At the first interview, Mr. Henry
Sheares declined to say anythin:; he departed, and did not return that day. Did that show an eagerness to gain a proselyte? He deserted Captain Armstrong, is hunted and persecutedt
by lim; he infests the society of his wife and children-still
no act is dine; it rests in conversation; nt a single act done;
no men corrupted; no societies frequented, arms taken ulp, or
furnished to othels; no act counltenancinig rebellion, or hostility to the crown.
Gentlenen, we will prove by a crowd of witnesses that this
gentleman, Mr. Henry Slleares, has been unconnected with and
unconcerned inl politics, devoted to pursuits of a different nature, to literature, to science, and attention to private affairs-;
enjoying the society of an amiable wife and children, beyond
whose company he sought no pleasure. You certainly are not
to he influenced by humanity. But your verdict must be
founded iD justice and in truth. You: ca. nnot suppose that a
man in possession of every comfort and enjoyment, with a wife
and six children, would voluntarily engage in treason; would
rashly confide his lite, his fortune and his family to the stripling of an informer, whom he never before beheld. -Gentletneni,
I have troubled you too long. I now conclude, and with a
firm -hope, I trust my client to your hands.




72               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
Mr. McNally urged a variety of law points, but with little
effect upon the tribunal before whom he appeared, when
Tile first witness called for the defence was
Thomras Drought.-Am well acquainted with Captain Armstrono; he has spoken to me in regard to the engagement at
Slievebury Mountain, and the number there killed; lie told me
they had caught two or three (peasants) at a distance; that he
was hanged for refiusing to give infibrmation, another I believe
was suspended, and Captain Armnstrong said lie cat him down,
but one was hanged outright. We both agreed that it was not
a good way to make hi:n confess; he said that on his (Armstrong's) suggestion the fellow that was suspended had the rope
round his neck; I'm not sure which was ordered twenty-five
laslies, and when he received eiglht he cried out with vociferation, that he would give information; he then let him down and
said the person whowas hanged could have given the samne information, though lie suffered himself to be hanged; I asked how
he could possibly reconcile it to himself to deprive these wretches
of life, without even the form of a trial; he acknowledged they
did so; I asked him whether he expected any punishment for
it, and although he might not expect it from Government, yet
there was an All-powerful Being who would punish himn; he
said," you know my opinion long ago upon the subject." The
witness further deposed that he hlad known Armstrong from his
infancy; he had fiequently heard him utter atheistical expressions; he spoke of tile state of the soul after death " as an eternalsleep," and told witness "he had left the Somersetshlire
Militia on account of his democratic principles."
Lieutenant Shernington of the Forty-first regiment, deposed
that "lie was a nephew by marriage of Captain Armstrong, and
had known him since his childhood. When in Lord Coke's regiment in England, had conversations with him. Did not think
his principles exactly such as a mnilitary man's should be. Had
a conversation with him at his agent's, Mr. M[ulholland; talked
of various things, anmong others of the French Revolution, and
lie said he did not wish for kingly government. fle said, that
if there was not another executioner in the kingdom for George
IlI. but himself, he would be one, and piqued himself upon
being 80so. 1 told him he was a d  ~dfellow, and ought to give
up his comrmission, and go over to France.  He had met him
in Byrne's, the bookseller's, in Grafton street; he handed




HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.               73
him  a book, saying,'Read  this, it is my creed;' he (the
witness) found it was'Paine's Rights of Man;' he thrust it
into the fire, and said, he (Captain Armstrong) should be
servedso."  The witness further deposed that "he did not
know the Messrs. Sheares, and never had seen them until that
day. That he would not have come forward to give evidence
on this trial, but had been summoned,'and would not have appeared for one hundred guineas.' That on meeting with Captain Clibborn, he had said,' he was sorry to hear that John
Armstrong was finding out the secrets of men, in order to dis
cover them, and being told it was a different thing, that the
Sheares wanted to seduce the soldiers, he had said, d  n
him, he should have run them through the body."
dXr. Bride, a barrister, deposed to his having been acquainted with Armstrong; recollected having been, within the
last six or eight months, in company with him, at the chambers
of a Mr. Brown, in college, and lleard him (Armstrong) express
an opinion slighting the obligation of an oath.
-Mr. Graydon, a barrister, deposed that he had known Armstrong, had heard him express republican opinions " in a very
violent and unqualified manner."  "He uniformly expressed
opinions of that kind."
Ofr. Bocsrdman, a barrister, deposed that he had known the
brothers for seven or eight years. So far as he could collect
their political principles firom any conversation he had had with
them, he thought them anxious to bring about a parliamentary
reform and Catholic emancipation. They went no farther as
well as he could recollect. Three months before he had met
Mr. John Sheares in company, and he had expressed sentiments of similar import. Mr. John Sheares, interrupting the
witness, said, " I wish to remind Mr. Boardman whether I did
not regret that reform lihd not taken place, as the best mode
to prevent revolution, which would take place if not prevented
by reform." Mr. Boardman replied, "I do not recollect that
Mr. Sheares made use of expressions to that effect."
Xr. Edtward Hoare deposed, that he "had known Henry and
John Sheares a great many years, and their father before
them. Their political opinions were very much alike as to men
and measures.".Mr. St. Leger, a barrister,- had known the brothers since he
was six years old; John Sheares had been his school-fellow;




74                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
during the whole of their acquaintance, his opinion as to their
general character was,'it was tile very bet that he could conceive any man to possess.'"
iMr. 7horwzas Casey, a barrrister, deposed that " he has been
long acquainted with both brothers, and mostparticularly with
Jolhn. Their general moral chlaracter was as good and as hligh
as that of any men he had ever known.. With regard to Mr.
Jolln Sheares, lie had lived with himi  a long time, and during
that time hle never had an occasion to do otherwise than admire, esteem, and respect hims, and that was:for a period of
eighteen months during which they lived together."  Hie was
asked if hle considered the Sheares' were men who were
likely to encourage murder and bloodshedi?  He replied,
" With regard to Mr. Henry Sheares, I do not conceive it possible; with regard to Mr. John Sleares, if it be possible, I do
conceive tihere must hlave been as great revolution in his:mind,
as any that ever took place upon the face of the earth. And
I do recollect, about two years ago or upwards, that I did hear
John Sheares, in as warml a manner as I ever heard him speak
truth to me upon any occasion, say that he would be the first
to take up arms against a foreign enemy, and the last to lay
them down."  Being asked by the counsel for the crown if he
did not confine whlat he Ilad said to their moral character, the
witness replied, " I mean it to the fall extent of what I hlave
said. I speak of their moral character, and as to their political
also, as far forth as my words can:reach. At the assizes of Cork,
we had some conversation; John Sheares and myself talked
about the politics of the day, upon which he differed. He
spoke with confidence, to me, as two men intimately acquainted
might do ill conversation, and the opinions he expressed were
against a revolution and a foreign enemy." The counsel for the
crown asked thle witness if the conversation swould not have terminated, had Mr. Sheares intimated a contrary opinion?  The
following reply was made by Counselor Casey: " I do not know
that it would, for I should have endeavored to -persuade him to
be of my opinion, which is full and entirely contrarient. I
would not give him up while I had a hope of him, nor till I had
a solid reason for the contrary (opinion)."
This closed the evidence for the defence; it was then past
midnight; the trial had already occupied fifteen hours, when
]gr. Curran, like every one around him, judge, jury and advo



HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                 75
eates, was exhausted with fatigue. lie was racked by the coltests and the excitement of a day in which he had to resist tlb.e
royal blood-hounds, to cross-exanmine a demon, and gaze on thle
Sheares —the one trembling for his brother, the other for hirmself. He was literally worn out with fatigue after sixteen hours
of anxiety, in a crowded court, in the midst of a red-hot sunmmer.
He then rose and said,
MY LORDS:
Before I address yon or the jury, I would wish to make
one  preliminary observation; it may be an observation
only, it may be a request: for myself I am  indifferent, but I
feel I am now unequal to the.duty-I am sinking under tile
weight of it. We all know the character of the jury; the interval of their separation must be short, if it should be deemed necessary to separate them. I protest I have sunk under this trial. If
I must go on, the court must bear with me, the jury may also
bear with me: I will go on until I sink.  But after a sitting of
sixteen hours, with only twenty minutes' interval, in these times,
I. should hope it would not be thought an obtrusive reqn est, to
hope for a few hours' interval for repose, or rather for recollection.
Lord Carleton-What say you, Mr. Attorney-General?
M[r. Attorney-General-My Lords, I feel such public inconvenience from adjourning cases of this kind, that I cannot consent.
The counsel for the prisoners cannot be more exhausted than
those for the prosecution. If they do not choose to speak to the
evidence, mwe shall give up our right to speak, and leave the
matter to the court altogether. They have had two speeches
already [Mr. Ponsonby and Mr. Plunkett had spoken], and
leaving them unreplied to is'a great concession.
Lord Carleton-We:would be glad to accommodate as much
as possible. I am as much exhausted as any other; but we
think it better to go on.
Mr. Curran then rose and addressed the jury on behalf of
the prisoners, as follows
Gentlemen of the jury, it seems that much has been conceded to us. God help us! I do not know what has been
conceded to me, if so insignificant a person may have ex-:torted the remark. Perhaps it is a concession, that I rise in




7 6              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
such a state of mind and body, of collapse and deprivation, as
to feel but a little spark of indignation raised by the remark,
that much has been conceded to the counsel for the prisoner;
much has been conceded to the prisoners! Almighty and merciful God, who lookest down upon us, what are the times to
which we are reserved, when we are told, that much has been
conceded to prisoners who are put upon their trial at a moment
like this, of more darkness and night of the human intellect,
than a darkness of the natural period of twenty-four hours; that
public convenience cannot spare a respite of a few hours
to those who are accused of their lives, and that much
has been conceded to the advocate, almost exhausted in
the poor remark which he has'endeavored to make upon it.
My countrymen, I do pray you, by the awful duty which you
owe your country, by that sacred duty which you owe your
character (and I know how you feel it), I do obtest you, by the
Almighty God, to have mercy upon my client, to save
him, not from guilt, but from the baseness of his accuser, and
the pressure of the treatment under which I am  sinking.
With what spirit did you leave your habitations this day?
with what state of mind and heart did you come here from your
families. with what sentiments did you leave your children, to
do an act of great public importance, to pledge yourselves at
the throne of eternal justice, by the awful and solemn obligation
of an oath, to do perfect, cool, impartial and steady justice, between the accuser and accused.? Have you come abroad under
the idea, that public fury is clamorous for blood? that you are
put there under the mere formality or memorial of death, and
ought to gratify that fury, with the blood for which it seems to
thirst? If you are, I have known some of you, more than one,
or two, or three, in some of those situations, where the human
heart speaks its honest sentiments. I think I ought to know you
well, you ought to know me, and there are some of you, who
ought to listen to what so obscure an individual may say, not altogether without some degree of personal confidence and respect.
I will not solicit your attention by paying the greatest compliment which man can pay to man; but I say, I hold you in regard as being worthy of it; I will speak such language as I
would not stoop to hold, if I did not think you worthy of it.
Gentlemen, I will not be afraid of beginning with what some
may think I should avoid, the disastrous picture which you must




HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                 77
have met on your way to this court. A  more artful advocate
might endeavor to play with you, in supposing you to possess a
degrcee of pity and feeling beyond that of aluy other human being. But I, gentlemen, am not afraid of beginning by warning
you against those prejudices which all must possess; by speaking strongly against them; by striking upon the string, if not
strong enough to snap it, will wake it into vibration. Unless
you make an exertion beyond the power almost of men to make,
you are not fit to try this cause. You may preside at such an
execution as the witness would extol himself for-at the sentence flowing from a very short inquiry into reason; but you are
not fit to discharge the awful trust of honest men, coming into the
box, indifferent as they stand unsworn, to pronounce a verdict of
death and infamy, or of existence and of honor. Y ou have only the interval between  this and  pronouncing  your verdict to reflect, and the other interval when you are resigning
up your last breath, between your verdict and your grave,
when you may Lament that you  did not as you ought.
Do you think I want to flatter your passions? I would scorn
myself for it. I want to address your reason, to call upon your
consciences, to remind you of your oaths, and tile consequence
of that verdict, which upon the law and the fact, you must give
between the accuser and the accused. Part of what I shall say
must of necessity be addressed to the court, for it is matter of
law: but upon this subject, every observation in point of law
is so inseparably blended with the fact, that I cannot pretend to
say, that I discharge your attention, gentlemen, even when I address the cou!t. On the contrary, I shall the more desire your
attention, not so much that you shall understand what I shallsay,
as what the court shall say. Gentlemen, this indictment is
founded upon the statute 25th Edward III.
The statute itself begins with a melancholy observation on the
proneness to deterioration which has been found in all countries
unfortunately to take place in their criminal law, particularly
in the law respecting high treason. The statute begins with reciting, that in the uncertainty of adjudications, it became difficult to know what was treason, and what was not; and to remove further difficulty, it professes to declare all species of treason, that should thereafter be so considered; and by thus regulating the law, to secure the state and the constitution, and the
persons of those interested in the executive departments of the




78                 REMARKABLE TRIALS.
government, from the common acts of violence that might be
used in their':detraction.  The' first three clauses of the0
statute. seem  to have gone a. great way indeed upon  the
subje'ct; because tlhe  object of the  provision  was to protect the person, and I begof youn to understand what I
mean by person, I mean- the nattrral person; I meanl no
figre' of speechi, not the monarch in the abistrac, bunt' the naturail man.  The first clause. was made' without thle smallest relatihnF- to: the executive pow."er, but solely to thele   naturaMl bd-y aiid
person.  The words are, " wllen: a man.ii. doth compass or im agine the death of the-King,' or of our lady his Queen, or' of their
eldest son a and heir.t nd thereoof be, upon sufficienftt proof;- a-:
tainted of open deed by menl of his condition, he sh.lall:" be. a
traitor."  This I say relates only to the ntatural person of the
Kin'  The son and heir of the King is men'tioned: inl the same
malner, but he has no power;:- and therefore a comlpassintg his
death, must mean; the death, of hbs natu'ral person, and so6 musti
it be' in the case of the Ring.  To conceive the' purpose of destroying a cotimon subject, was once a felony of death, and that
was expressed in the same lan-guage, conmpassing and im agining
the death of the subject.  It was thougit right to, dismiss that
severe rigor of the'law in thCe ease of the su)j-eet, but it was
thought.right tto continue it in: the case of the- ling, in
contradistinction' to  all  the' subjects  witlhin  th'e- realrl.
The statute, after-'describing tlhie persons, describes what shall
be evidence of that high and abominable guilt it must appear
by open deed; the initention..of the guilty heart minust e proved
by evidence of the opn deed eomrfitfte'd toWards tihe accornplishrnent of thle design.: Peerhaps:in; tfie hurry of speaking, perhaps from the mist akes'of reporters, someetimes from  one, and
sometimes fiom the ot-her, judges are too ofteni made to: say, that
such or such ant-overt act is,'if proved to haive been committed,
ground upon: whi-ch tlihe jury must fih-d t-he party gllilty of' the
accusation.  I mu st'deny -:the- position;   not only in the reason
of the: thing, but I -aniforitlfiedt by the ablest -writers' upon the
law of treason. In thie riason — of the: thing, beeause' the design
entertained', and act d~one, ar-T mrat-ters-for the jury.  Whletl'er
a.party cornpassoed the -Kings death r or'not,, is mnmattel' for the'
jury': ad1 theefetbre if. a certain -factbe proved, it isnonsense to
say, that such a concelusidn mud8t. follow; because -a condlusiont
of law -would then' be prybnounced- by. the jury, not by;. heicou-rt.




HENRY AND -JOHN SHEARES.                 79
I am warranted in this hy the writers- cited by iMr. Justice
Foster; and therefore, gentlernen, upon t:he first count in the
indictment, you are to decide a plain matter of fact, 1st, whether
the prisoner did compass and imagine the death of the King?
and whether there be any act proved, or apparent means taken,
which lie resorted to for the perpetration of the crimea
tlpon this subject, many observations have already been made
before me.  I will take the liberty of making one;-I do not
know whether it has been made before. Even in acA.se where
the overt act stated has of its own' nature gone to the person of'
the King, still it is left to the jury to decide, whether it was
done with the criminal purpose alleged, or not.  In Russell's
case, there was an overt act of a conspiracy to seize the guards;
the natural' consequence threatened from an act of' gross violence
so immediately approaching the King's person, might fairly be
said to affect his life; but still it was left to the jury to decide,
whether that was done for the purpose of compassing the King's
death. I mention this, because I think it a strong answer to those
kind of expressions, wllichl in bad times fall firom the months of
prosecutors, neither law nor poetry, but sometimes half metaphysical. Laws may be enacted in the spirit of sound policy,
and supported by superior reason; but when' only half' considered, and their provisions half enumerated, they become the
plague of the government. and the grave of principle. It is that
kind of refinement and cant whlich overwhelmed the law of
treason, and brought it to a metaphysical death; the laws are
made to pass through a contorted understanding, vibratory and
confused, and, therefore, after -a small interval from  the first
enactment of any law in Great Britain, the dreams' of fancy get
around, and:the law is lost in the mass of absurd: comment.
Hence it was that the- statute gave its-awful declarations to those
glossaries; so that if any ease arise, apparently within the'
statute, they were not to indulge themselves in conjecti'e, but
refer to the standard, and abide by: the law as marked' out for
them.  Therefore, I say, that the' issue. for' the jury here- is to'
decide in the words of the statute, whether the'prisoners did'
compass the'death of the King; and whetherthrey can say, upon
tfieir oaths: that there is any overt act proved in evid-ence mani —
festing an intention of injury to the natural poerson -of the Kiang?
I know that the semblance of authority may' bet used- to — con




80                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
tradict me: if any man can reconcile himself to the miserable
toil of poring over the records of guilt he will find them marked,
not in black, but in red, the blood of the unfortunate, leaving
the marks of folly, barbarity and tyranny. But I am glad that
men, who in some situations appear not to have had the pulse of
honest compassion, have made sober reflections in the hour of
political disgrace.  Such has been the fate of Lord Coke, who,
in the triumph of insolence and power, pursued a conduct whiich,
in the hour of calm retreat, he regretted in the language of
sorrow and disappointment.  He then held a language which I
willingly repeat, " that a conspiracy to levy war, was no act of
compassing the murder of the King."  There he spoke the
language of law and of good sense; for a man shall not be
charged with one crime, and convicted of another.  It is a
narrow and a cruel policy, to make a conspiracy to levy war an
act of compassing the King's death; because it is a separlate and
distinct offence; because it is calling upon the honest affections
of the heart, and creating those pathetical effusions, which
confound  all distinct principles of law, a grievance  not
to be borne in a state where the laws ought to be certain.
This reasoning is founded upon the momentary supposition
that the evidence is true; for you are to recollect the quarter
from whence it comes; there has been an attempt by precipitate
confession, to transfer guilt to innocence, in order to escape the
punishment of the law. Here, gentlemen, there is evidence of
levying war, which act, it is said, tends to the death of the
King: that is a constructive treason, calculated as a trap for the
loyalty of a jury; therefore you should set bounds to proceedings of that kind; for it is an abuse of the law, to make one
class of offence, sufficiently punished already, evidence of another.
Every court, and every jury should set themselves against
crimes, when they come to determine upon distinct and specified
guilt: they are not to encourage a confusion of crimes, by
disregarding the distinction of punishments; nor show the
effusion of their loyalty, by an effusion of blood.  I cannot
but say, that when  cases of this kind have been under
judgment in Westminster Hall, there was some kind  of
natural reason to excuse this confusion in the reports-the
propriety of making the person of the King secure. A war immediately adjoining the precincts of the palace, a riot in London




HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                81
might endanger the life of the King; but can the same law
prevail in every part of the British empire? It may be an
overt act of compassing the King's death to levy war in Great
Britain; but can it be so in Jamaica, in the Bahama isles, or in
Corsica, when it was annexedi to the British empire? suppose
at that time a man had been indicted there for compassing the
King's death, and the evidence was, that he intended to transfer
the dominion of the island to the Genoese, or the French; what
would you say if you were told that was an act by which he
intended to murder the King? By seizing Corsica, he was to
murder the King? How can there be any immediate attempt
upon the'King's life, by such a proceeding? It is not possible,
and therefore no such consequence can be probably inferred;
and, therefore 1 call upon you to listen to the court with respect,
but 1 also call upon you to listen to common sense, and consider,
whether the conspiring to raise war can in this country be an
overt act of cormpassing the King's death in this country.? I
will go further: if the statute of Edward III. had been conceived
to make a conspiracy to levy war an overt act of compassing the
King's death, it would be unnecessary to make it penal by any
subsequent statute; and yet subsequent statutes were enacted
for that purpose; which I consider an unanswerable argument
that it was not considered as coming within the purview of the
clause against compassing the King's death.
Now, gentlemen, you will be pleased to consider what was
the evidence brought forward to support this indictment. I do
not think it necessary to exhaust your attention, by stating at
large the evidence given by Captain Armstrong.  He gives an
adcount which we shall have occasion to examine, with regard to
its credibility.  Ile stated his introduction, first to Henry
Sheares, afterwards to his brother; and he stated a conversation
which you do not forget, so strange has it been! But in the
whole course of his evidence, so far from making any observation, or saying a word in connexion with the power at war with
the King, he expressly, said, that the insurrection, by whomsoever prepardd, or by what infatuation encouraged, was to be
a home exertion, independent of any foreign interference whatever. And therefore I am warranted in saying, that such an
insurrection does not come within the first clause of the statute.
It cannot come within the second, of adhering to the King's
enemies; because that means his foreign enemies; and here,
6




8 2                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
so far from any intercourse with them, they were totally disregarded.
Adhering to the King's:enemies means co-operating with
them, sending theIn provisions, or intelligence, or supplying
them with arms. But I venture to say, that there, has not been
any one case deciding that any act can be an adherence to a
foreign enemy, which was not calculated for the advantage of
that enemy. In the case of Jackson, lIensey, and Lord: Preston,
the parties had gone as far as they could in giving assistance.
So it was in Quigley's. But in addition to this, I must repeat,
that it is utterly unnecessary the law should be otherwise; for
levying war is, of itself, a crime; therefore it is unnecessary, by
a strained construction, to say, that levying War, or conspiring
to levy war, should come within any other clause equally penal,
but not so descriptive.
B1t, gentlemen, suppose I am mistaken in both points of my
argument; suppose the prisoners (it' the evidence were true)
did compass the King's death, and adhere to the King's ene.
mies; whlat are you to found your verdict upon?  Upon your
oaths: What are they to be founded uponll  Upon the o:~th of
tile witness: tind what is that tbfounded upon? Upon this, and
this only, that lie does believe that there is an eternal God, an
intelligent supreme existence, capable of inflicting eternal punishment for offences, or conferring eternal compensation upon
man, after he has passed thle boundary of the grave    But
whllere the witness believes lie is possessed of a perishing soul,
iand that there is nothing upon which punislhment or reward
can be exerted, he proceeds regardless of the number of his
offences, and undisturbed by tile terrors of exhausted fancy,
which might save you from the fear, that your verdict is founded upon perjury. I suppose he imagines that the body is actnated by some kind of anilnal maclinery. I know not in what
language to describe his notions. Suppose his opinioni of the
)beautiful system framed by the Almighty hand to be, that it
is all- folly and blindness, compared to the mnanner in which
he considers himself to have been created; or his abominable
heart conceives its ideas; or his tongue communicates his no~tions. Suppose him, Isay, to think so, what is perjury to
him    l Ile needs no creed, if he thinks his miserable body can
take eternal refuge in the grave, and the last puff of his nostrilsi can send his:so.ul into annihilation I He laughs:at the idea




HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                 83
of eternal justice, and tells you that the grave into which he
sinks as a log, forms an entrenchment against the tlhrone ot
God,: and the vengeance of exasperated justice!
Do you not feel, my fellow-countrymen, a sort.of anticllpated
consolation,.in reflecting,. that Religion. —which gave us cnm.
fort in our early days, enabled us to sustain the stroke of:ffliction, and endeared us to one another,-when we see our friends
sinking into the earth, fills us wittl expectation that wo riseagain; that we but sleep: for a while, to wake forever?. Bit
what kind of. communion can you hold, what interchange expect, what-,confidence. place, in that abject slave, that con,
demned, despaired of wretch, who acts under the idea that he
is only.the folly of a moment, that he cannot step beyond the
threshold ofthe grave, that that which is an object of terror
to the best, and of, hope to the confiding, is to himt contemp't,
or despair?
Bear with me, my clllltrymen; I feel my heart run away
with me-the worst men only can be cool. What is the law
of this country? If the witness does not believe in God, or a
future state, you cannot swear him. What swear himn upon?
Is it upon the book, or the leaf? You might as well swear
him by a brl:mble, or a coin. The ceremonyof kissing.is o)nly
the external symbol, by which man seals himself to the precept, and says,'" May God so help me, as I swear the trutll."
He is then attached to the divinity, upon the condition of telling truth; and he expects mercy from heaven, as he performs
his undertaking. But the infidel! —By:lwhat can you catch his
soul, or by what can you hold it?  You repulse him from givinr evidence; for he has no conscience, no hope to cheer him,
no punishment to dread!
What is the evidence touching that unfortunate young man.What said his own relation, Mr. Shervington?  He. had talked
to him freely, had known him long.  V What kind of character
did he give of him? Paine was lis creed and his philosophy
lie had drawn his maxims of politics from the vulgar< and
furiois anarchy broached by Mr. Paine. His ideas of religion
were, adopted from. the vulgar maxims of the same nian,'he
scandal of inquiry, tle blasphemer of his God as of his King
tHe bears testimony a gainst; himioself, that le submitted to the
undertaking of reading both hlis abominable tracts, that, abominable abomination of all abominations, Paine's "Age of




84               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
RIeason," professing to teach mankind-, by acknowledging that
he did not learn himself! working upon debauched and narrow
understandings. Why not swear the witness upon the vulgar
mnaximrs of that base fellow, that wretched outlaw and fugitive
from his country and his God? Is it not lalnentable to see a
man laboring under an incurable disease, and fond of his own
blotches 
" Do you wish" says he," to know my sentiments with regard to politics? I have learned them from Paine! I do not
love a King, and if no other executioner could be found, I
would myself plunge a dagger into the heart -of George III.,
because he is a King, and because he is my King. I swear by
the sacred missal of Paine, I would think it a meritorious thing
to plunge a dagger into his heart, to whom I had devoted a
soul, which M/Vr. Paine says I have not to lend."  Is this the
casual effusion of a giddy young man, not considering the
Imeaning of what lie said? If it were said among a parcel of
boarding-school misses, where he might think he was giving
specimens of his courage by nobly denying religion, there
might be some excuse. There is a latitude assumed upon some
such occasions. A little blasphemy and a little obscenity passes for wit in some companies. But recollect it was not to a little
miss, whom he wished to astonish, that he mentioned these
sentiments; but a kinsman, a man of boiling loyalty. I confess I did not approve of his conduct in the abstract, talking
of running a man through the body; but I admired the honest boldness of the soldier who expressed his indignation in
such warlm language. If Mr. Shervington swore true, Captain
Armstrong must be a foresworn witness; it comes to that
silmple point. You cannot put it upon other ground. I put it
to your good sense, I am not playing with your understandinqns,
I am putting foot to foot, and credit to credit.' One or other
of the two must be perjured; which of them is it? If you
disbelieve Captain Armstrong, can you find a verdict of blood
upon his evidence?
Gentlemen, I go further: I know your horror of crimeyour warmth of loyalty. They are among the reasons why I
respect and regard you. I'ask you, then, will you reject such a
witness?  or would you dismiss the friend you regarded, or the
child you loved, upon the evidence of such a witness? Suppose him to tell his own story:-" I went to your friend, or




HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                 85
your child-I addressed myself in the garb of friendship-in
tile smile of confidence, I courted confidence, in order to betray it —I traduced you, spoke all the evil I could against you,
to inflame him-I told him, your father does not love you." If
lie went to'you, and told you all this-that he inflamed your
clhild, and abused you to your friend, and said, " I come now
to increase it, by tile horror of superadded cruelty," would you
dismiss from your love and affection the child or the friend you
had loved for years?  You would not prejudge them. You
would examnine the consistency of the man's story —you would
listen to it with doubt, and receive it with hesitation.
Says Ciptain Arlnstrong —" Byrne was my bookseller; from
hinm I bought my little study of blasphemy and obscenity, with
which I aimused myself."  "Shall 1 introduce Mr. Sheares to
you?"-not saying which. What is done then? IIe tllought
it was not right till he saw Captain Clibborn. Has he stated
any reason why he supposed Mr. Sheares had any wish at all
to be introduced to hiin — any reason for supposing that
Byrne's principles were of that kind?-or any reason, why lie
imaglned the intercourse was to lead to anything improper? It
is most material that, he says, he never spoke to Byrne upon
political subjects; therefore, he knew nothing of Byrne's principles, nor Byrne of his. But the proposal was made and he
was so alarmed, that he woulii not give an answer till he s-lw
his Captain. Is not this incredible?
There is one circumstance which made an impression upon
my Mnind: that lie assumed the part of a public informer, and,
in thile first instance, came to the field with pledgets and bandages; he wa: scaircely off the table, when a witness clime to blis
credit. It is the first time that I saw a witness taking fright
at his own credit, and sending up a person to justify his
C.haracter.
Consider how he has fortified it: he told it all to Captain
Clibbor! I-Ie saw him every eveninlg when he returned, like
a bee, with his thighs loaded with evidence. What is the de,
fence? That tile witness is unworthy of belief. My clients
say, their lives are not to be toulched by such A man; lhe is
found to be an inform:er-he marks the victim! You know
the world too well, not to know that every falsehood is reduced
to a certain degree of malleability by an alloy of truth. Sucl




86                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
stories'as;these arei not pure — and siml se falseliod  look at
your Oateses, your Bedloes, and Dugdales!
-I am disposed to-believe as shocking as it is, that this W-itness
had the heart, wlhen hie was sui'rournded by tie" little progeny
of my -elie-nt —wlen hle was sitting'-in the~ mansion in which he
was. hospitably entertained-\-lwhen'he saw! the oldi mother supm
porteed.by the piety- of her son, and the children basking in
the parental fondness:of thle -father-that lie saw tile scene,
and smiled at it; conltemplateod the havoc' he was to make,
consigning -.them'. totle storms of:'a imiserable:world, withfout
having an: an-chorage- in- th- e kindness of a father"  Can such
lioriror exist, and not waken thle ro-oted vengeance of ati eternal
God.? But it cannort:reach this: man -beyond the gra v'e. Therefore, I uphold him lhere. I can imaaine it, gentlemen, because,
whlen ithe: mind -becomes destitute of tlhe principles of morality
and religion,I all within the miserable being is left a black and
desolate waste, never cheered by:thle:rays of tenderness and
hluratnity.  Wlhen-the belief of eternal justice is gotle froil
the soul of man, horror -and execution mlnay set up -their: abode.
I can; belie've that the witness with what view, I: canriot say
-with what hope, I cannot conjecture-you may-did meditate the consigning of these two men to death,- tiheir children
to beggary and reproach; abusing the lhospitality -witl which
he was received, that he might afterwards come here and crown
his work, having obtained the little spark of truth by which
his mass of falsehood was to be animated.
I have talked of the "inconsistency of the story.  Do you believe it, gentlemen?  The case of my client is, that the witness
is perjured; and you are appealed to, in the name of that everliving God,,whom you revere, but whom he despiseth, to - con
sider, that there is something to save him from the baseness- of
such an accuser.
But I go back to the:testimony;I may wander from it, but it
is my duty to stay with it. Says -Ie: "Byrne makes an important application —I was not -accustomed to it; 1- never spoke
to him, and yet he, with whomn  I had no connexion, introduces
me to;Sheares -this is; a trtue brother."  You- see, gentlemen, I
state this:truly-he never talked to Byrne about politics: How
could Byrne know his principles-2 -By inspiration?  He was to
know the edition of the man, as he knew the edition of books.
"You may repose all confidence."  I ask not is this true; but I




HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                 87
say. it can he nothing else than false. I do not ask you to say
it is doubtful; it is a case of )lo(Qd, of life or death.; and you are
to add to -the terrors of.a painful- death, the desolation of a fasnily- overwhelming: the aged: with sorrow, and the young.wit.l
infamy. - entlemen, 1 should disdain to reason with you; I am
pinning your minds down- to one point, to show you to demonstration, that nothing can save your minds from the evidence of
such perjury; not because you may think-it may be - false-, but
because it is impossible it can be true. -I put into one of the
scales of justice that execrable perjury, and I put into the other,
the life, the. fame, the fortune, the.children of my client. Let
not the. balance tremble as you hold it; and, as you hold it now,
so may the balance of eternal-justice be-held for you.
But is it upon his inconsistency only I call upon you to reject
him-?  I call. in -aid the evidence of his own kinsman, Mr. Shervington, and Mr. Drought; the evidence of Mr. Bride and Mir.
Graydon. Before you can believe Armstrong, you must believe
that all those are perjured. What are his temptations to perjury. The hope- of bribery and reward. And he did go up
with his sheets of paper in his hand: here is one, it speaks
treason —here is another,- the accused grows paler-here is a
third, it opens another vein. Had Shervington any temptation
of that kind. No; let not the honest and genuine soldier lose
the credit of it. He has paid a great compliment to the proud
integrity of the  King, his master, when he did venture, at a time
like this,:to:give evidence, "I would not have come for one
hundred guineas." I could not refuse the effusion of my heart,
and exclaiming, may the blessings of God pour upon you, and
may you never want a hundred guineas!
There is another circumstance.  I think I saw it strike your
attention, my lords; it was.the horrid tale.of the three servants
whom he met upon the road.; They had no connexion with the
rebels; if they had, they were open to a summary proceeding.
He hangs up one, shoots a second, and administers torture to the
body of the third, in order to make him give evidence. Why,
my lords, did you feel nothing stir within you?  Our adjuidications had condemned the application of torture for the extraction
of evidence.. When a wild and furious assassin had made a
deadly:attempt upon a life of much public consequence, it was
proposed to put him to the torture, in order to discover his
acComqices. - Iscarcely know whether to admire most the aw



88               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
ful and impressive lesson given by Felton, or the doctrine stated
by the judges of the land. "'No," said he, "put me not to the
torture; for in the extravagance of my pain, I may be brought
to accuse yourselves."  What say the judges?  "It is not
allowable by the law and constitution of England, to inflict
torture upon any man, or to extract evidence under the coercion
of personal sufferings." Apply that to this case: if the unfortunate man did himself dread the application of such an engine
for the extraction of evidence, let it be an excuse for his degradation, that he sought to void the pain of body by public
infamy. But there is another observation more applicable:
Says Mr. Drought, " Iad you no feeling, or do you think you
will escape future vengeantce?" "Oh, sir, I thoaght you knew
my ideas too well, to talk in that way." Merciful God! Do
you think it is upon the evidence of such a man that you ought
to consign a fellow-subject to death? He who would hang up a
miserable peasant, to gratify caprice, could laugh at remonstrance, and say, "You know my ideas of futurity."
If he thought so little of murdering  a fellow-creature, without
trial and without ceremony, what kind of compunction can he
feel within himself, when you are made the instruments of his
savage barbarity?  He kills a miserable wretch, looking; perhaps, for bread for his children, and who falls, unaccused, uncondemined. What ccmpunction can he feel at sacrificing other
victims, when lie considers death as eternal sleep, and the darkness of annihilation. These victims are at this moment led out
to public execution; he has nmarked them for the grave —he will
not bewail the object of his own work: they are passing through
the vale of death, while he is dozing over the expectancy of
annihilation.
Gentlemen, I am too weak to follow the line of observation
I had marked out; but I trust I am warranted in saying, that
if you weigh the evidence, the balance will be in favor of the
prisoners.
Bat there is another topic, or two, to which I must solicit
your attention. If I had been stronger, in a common case, I
would not have said so much; weak as I am here, I must say
more.
It may be said that the parole evidence may be put out of the
case; attribute the conduct of Armstrong to folly, or passion,
or whatever else you please, you may safely repose upon the




HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                89
written evidence. This calls for an observation or two. As to
Mr. Henry Sheares, that written evidence, even if the handwriting were fully proved, does not apply to him. I do not say
it was not admissible. The writings of Sidney  found in his
closet were read, justly,:according to some; but I do not wish
to consider that now. But I say, the evidence of Mr.' Dwyer
has not satisfactorily established the hand-writing of John. I
do not say it is not proved to a certain extent; but it is proved
in the very slightest marfner that you ever saw paper proved:
it is barely evidence to go to you; and the witness might be
mistaken.
An unpublished writing cannot be an overt act of treason;
so it is laid down expres.ly by Hale and Foster.  A  number
of cases have occurred, and decisions have been pronounced,
asserting, that writings are not overt acts, for want of publication\; but if they plainiy relate to an overt act proved, they
may be left to the jury for their consideration.  But here it
has no reference to' the overt act laid; it could not be intended
for publication until after the unfortunate event of revolution
had taken place; and therefore, it could not be designed to
create insurrection. Gentlemen, I am not counsel for Mr. John
Sheares, but I would be guilty of cruelty, if I did not make
another observation. This might be an idle composition, or
the translation of idle absurdity from  the papers of another
country. The-manner in which it was found leads me to think
that the more probable. A writing designed for such an event
as charged, would hardly be left in a writing-box, unlocked,
in~a room near the hall-door. The manner of its finding also
shows two things: that Henry Sheares knew nothing of it, for
he lhad an opportunity of destroying it, as Alderman Alexander
said lhe had; and further, that he could not have imagined his
brother had such a design; and it is impossible, if the paper
had been designed for such purposes, that it would not be
communicated to him.
There is a point to which I will beseech the attention of
your lordships. I know your humanity, and it will not be
applied merely because I am exhausted or fatigued. Youl have
only one witness to any overt act of treason. There is no aecision upon the point in this country. Jackson's case was the
first; Lord Clonmel made allusion to the point; but a jury
ought not to find guilty upon the testimony of a single witness.




90                RE.MARKABLE TRIALS.
It is the,.opinion of Foster, that by the common law one witness,
if believed, was sufficient.'-Lol d Coke's -opinion.:is, — that two
were necessary.: they are great namles;..no -man- looks upon
the works of Foster with molre- veneration-!than myself, and -I
would not compare hill. with, the:depreciated credit. of- Coke;
I would rather leave Lord: Coke to the character which Foster
gives him; that he w-as one of the ablest lawyers, independent
of-some particulars, tlhat ever existed in.England.:In the wild
extravagance, heat, and, cruel reign of the- Tudors,- such doctrines of treason had gone abroad,  as drenched the kingdom
with blood. By the construction of crown lawyers, and the
shalnefi:il complaisance of: julries, malny sacrifices: had been
-made, and therefore, it- was necessary to: prune: away these
excesses, by the- statute of Edward VI., and, therefore, there is
every -reason, to i'maginefirom the ~history of the times, that
Lord Colks was right in saying, not by new statute, but by the
common law, confirmed and. redeemed by declaratory acts, the
trials were regulated.
A law of Philip and 3Mary was afterwards enacted; some
think it was a repeal of the statute of Edward. VI.-some think
not. I mention this diversity of opinions, with tiisview, that
in this country,. upon a new point of that kind, the weight of
criminal prosecution will turn the scale in favor of the prisoner,
and that the cole't will b3 of opinion, that the statute 7th Wmin.
IIl. did not enact any new thing, unknown to the common law,
but redeemed it from abuse.  WlWhat was the state of Englalnd
The king! had been -declared to have,: abdicated tle: throne;
prosecutions, temporizing juries, and. the arbitrary construction
ofjudges, condemned to the scaffold those who were to prote!:t thle crown, men who knew, and after the destruction of
the cottage, tile palace was endangered. It was not, then, the
enactment of any thing new; it was. founded. on: the cauntio!l
of the tines, and derived from. the maxims of thle constitution.
I know the peevishness with which Burnet observed upon that
statute:; he is reprehended in a modest, manner by Foster; but
what- says Blackstone, of great authority, of tlie clearest head
and the profolndest reading]? eie agrees with Montesquieu,
the French philosopher:" In cases of treason, th]ere is -the accused's oath of allegiance
to counterpoise: the information of a single witness.; and- that
may perlhaps- b:e. one: reas!on- why. the law requires a dou6bk




HENRY -AND JOHN   SHEARES.               91
~testimony to - convict him': tlhough the ~~principal reasonl unlli
doubtedly-is, tbo secure the subject firom  being sacrificed to
4fictitious conopiracies, which have been the engines of profligate and crafty pol.ticians in all ages."
- Gentlemen, I-do not pretend to say, tlhat you are Ibound'by
an Englisli act of parlliament. You may condemn uiponl the
testiiimony of a single witness. Youn to be sure, are too  roud
to listen to the wisdom of an Englislh law!  Illustrious ind.:pendents! You  ay lmurder under the semblance of j;udicial
forms, because you are proud of your blessed independence!
You-pronounce that to be: legally done which woullld be ur der
iin: England, because you are proud?! i You may imnbrule your
liands in blood, because you are too proud to be bould by a
foreign act! of parliament; and when you are to loo,k for wlIat
is to save y ou firom the abuse of arbitrary l)ower, you will llot
avail yourself of it, because it is a foreign act of parliamlent!
Is that; the independence of an Irish jury?  Do I see tle lheart
of any Englishman move, when I say to hiln,' Thou servile:Briton, you cannot condemn upoll the peljury of a singlo witness, beca:use you are held in by the cogency of an act of parliament."
If- power seeks to make victims by judicial means, an act of
parliament'would-save you froln the perjury of abomniinabl',::malice. Talk not of proud slavery to law, but lament tllhat yiu
are bound by the integrity and irresistible strcngth of rirglit
reason; -and at the next step- bewail,: that the all-powelfiil
author of nature has bound himself in the illustrious servituide
of his attributes, which pr-vent him fromn thinking what'is ilot
true, or, doing what is not junst.  Go, then, and enjoy your
independence.  At -tle other side of the water, your verdict
upon the testinony of a single:witness would be multder. ]Put
hereyou can murder without reproach, because thlere is no act
of parliament to bind you: to the ties o(f social lifb, and save tile
accused from the breath of a peijured informer. In England, a
j'uryi. Could not pronounce conviction upon tihe testimony of tile
purest man, if he stood alone; and yet, what cotnparison can
that case bear with a blighted:and marred informer, where
every wold is-proved' to be perjuryi, and -every word turns
back upon his soul?
I am -reasdning for your- country and your children. Let me




92               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
not reason in vain. I am not playing the advocate you know
I am not-your conscience tells you I am not. I put this case
to the Bench: The statute 7 IHenry III. does not bind this
country by its legislative cogency; and will you declare positively, and without doubt, that it is not common law, the enactment of a new one? Will you say it has no weight to influence
the conduct of a jury, from. the authority of a great and exalted
nation-the only nation in Europe where liberty has seated
herself? Do not imagine, that the man who praises liberty is
singing an idle song; for a moment, it may be the song of a
bird in his cage-I know it nmay. But you are now standing
upon an awful isthmus, a little neck of land, where liberty has
found a seat. Look about you-look at the state of the country-the tribunals that dire necessity has introduced. Look
at this dawn of law, admitting the functions of a jury; I feel a
comfort —methinl;s I see the venerable forms of Iolt and IHale
looking down upon us, attesting its continuance. Is it ycur
opinionl that bl(ody verdicts are necessary-that blood enough
has not been shed-tlhat the bonds of society are not to be
drawn close again, nor the scattered fragments of our strength
bound together, to make them of force, but they are to be left
in that scattered state, in which every little child may break
them to pieces? You will do more towards tranquilizing the
country, by a verdict of nmercy. Guard yourselves against the
sanguinary excess of prejudice or revenge; and though you
think there is a great call of public justice, let no unmerited
victim fall.
Gentlemen, I hlave tired you-I durst not relax. The danger
of my client is from the hectic of the moment, which you have
fortitude, I trust, to withstand. In that belief I leave him to
you; and as you deal justice and Inercy, so may you find it;
and I hope that the happy compensation of an honest discharge
of your duty may not be deferred till a future existence, which
this witness Armstrong does not expect, but that you may
speedily enjoy the benefits you will have conferred upon your
country.
Mr. Prime-Sergeant replied in a long and not candid
speech.
Mr. IIenry Sheares-My lord, I wish to say a word.
Lord Calieton-It is not regular after the counsel for the




HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES,                93
crown leave closed. I asked you at tile proper time, you then
declined. However, go on.
Mr. Henry Slleares-My lord, after the able and eloquent
defence which has been made for me by my counsel, it would
ill become me to add anything to it. But there is one part of
it which appears to me not to have been sufficiently dwelt
upon. It is respecting that paper. I protest most solemnly, my
lords, I knew nothing of it; to know of it, and leave it where
is was when the magistrate came, was a folly so glaring, that
I cannot be supposed to have been guilty of it. When the
Alderman rapped at the door, I asked, what was the matter a
After he was admitted, he said he wanted my papers; I told
him there they were. My lords, is it possible, I could commit
myself and all I hold dear, by so egregious an act of folly?
Having the dearest sources of happiness around nle, should I
sacrifice them and myself, by leaving such a document in an
open writing-box.
My lords, I beg your lordships' pardon. I thank you for this
indulgence: it would be irregular for me to expatiate further.
The evidence of Captain Armstrong is one of the most ingenious and maliciously fabricated stories, with respect to me, I
ever heard of. My lords, I should think, I could not be legally
implicated by any paper foutnd in that way.
Lord Carleton charged elaborately, reading the evidence
thoroughly, and Justice Crookslhank and Baron Smith concurred.
The following is substantially his lordship's charge:
CHARGE TO THE JURY.
After laying down the law of treason, and adverting to the
question raised by the counsel of the prisoners, as to the suffi-:ciency of the evidence of one witness in cases of treason, to
convict the accused, he said:
" It has been argued, that in treason two witnesses are necessary here; that thley were necessary by the common law of
England, and that the common law being the same in both
countries, two witnesses are necessary here. That the common
law is the same in both countries, I admit; but as to the point
of two witnesses being necessary in treason in this kingdom,




94                 REMARKABLE TRIALS.
with the- concurrence of -the bencll and the opinion of several
judges of this country, given in some of the late cases here, I
avow that two witnesses, are not necessary. They — are- necessary in: England by a statute, -which; does not- prevail to the
sattme extenth lere. It is very true that Lord Coke was of a different opinion, as to-the coinmon law of: England:.lowever,
Lord Hale and Mr. Justice Forster say it was the received
opinion that Lord Coke: was wrong."
Ilis lordship then proceeded to comment on the evidence of
Alderman Alexanderl with respect to the proclamation found in
the house of the. prisoners. I-Ie said: "it was fonnd in a writlng-box. which layup)on a table,: open and. inlocked, and that
it did not appear evident: whose property that writing-box was,
or to which of the prisoners: the house belonged.'"
here Mr. John Sheares interposed, saving: "..I beg your
lordsllip's pardon, it was in- my writing-box that paper was
found."
Ilis lordship observed: " I calnnot call npon tlhe prisoner for
any adnlis ionl of this kinld, and I wish the paper mway be determiiied by the evidence alone. It does not appear by express evidence, which of the. prisoners was to be deeimed as
havingl it in lhis possession; as ag;inst Jolln, wlho had written it, it is of more- weiglt than algaiiinst Henry; but as against
the latter, it is of wei. ght as being thle act of: one of: the con-spirators, in possession of the n ature and objects of the conspiracyr; nevertheless, as to him, leaving the discussion open
as to the extent ofhis guilt- genltlemen, this,paper walts one
circumstance of additiontal strength, in not being published;
but notwithstanding, it is- very poowerfully operative in the
cause, as corroborative of thle other evidence, and as making
the inltention oftlie-party wholm it is to aff.ct.'
With re.pect to thlle evidelne of Armstrong, he s'iid:. "Iis
testitlony -is so1ught -to be impeached, by showing thi;t  he does
ilot believe in a Supreme Being, and in a -future state of rewards and punishlments.: -He  has sworn that:e does: believe in
a Supie-nelBii Being, and in a ftuture state of rew lrds- and punishments:; tiough it lias been sworn he declared thle contrary."
His ibrdship left it to tle jury,-"wh-ether he:had made those
dec'arationis which:ll ad been imputed.to llin, serio-lsly, and
clnlmunlicafting ilis re;ll opinions (for he had been Adescri-bed as
giddy and inconsiderate in his expression), or not," observing




HENRY AND JOHN  -SHEARES.                95
tht'.'.'"the evidence of Captain Clibborn supported and fortified
his testimony, and that on several parts of his testimony, the
papers establish his credit in a very strong manner."
Illis lordship concluded by observing, that " if the jury were
satisfied with regard to -the first count, that the facts had been
establislled against both prisoners, they would find them both.
guilty; and if they entertained any. rational doubt,. not merely
a capricious doubt, but the doubt- that might be enterltained
by sensible men, then in a capital case like, this, they would
lean to mercy."
The jury were to determine whether the. communication
made to Armstrong, by John Sheares,- of the pressure of events
preventing their waiting any longer for French assistance, imnplied-. the purpose:of opening rebellion by the seizure of
the camp, city and privy council, expecting at a later period
the assistance of the French, and that the rising was acted on,
with a view-to aid the foreign enlemy; that intent was absolutely necessary, and  the jury must be satisfied of this
intent.
The jury asked for the papers, which, with the,prisoners'
consent, were taken to tile jury room. They - then retired for
seventeen minutes, and brought in a verdict, finding both the
prisone rs GUILTY.
As soon as the verdict was pronounced, the prisoners clasped
eachl other in their arms.
It -being now near eight o'clock on Friday morning, the court
adjoulred to three o'clock.
Wilen the court met in the afternoon, the Attorney-General
moved that the prisoners be brought up for judgment. Mr.
TM'Nally tried:to make a point, on the want of venue for the
" war" alleed inll the indictment.  The point was at once set
aside, as at best only;iffecting one count, and then the prisoners
were brouglhltup.
The Clerk of the Crown read the indictment, and:usked them
what they Ihad tc say, w1hy judgment: of death and: execution
should not be awarded against them, according to! law.
-Mr. Itenry Sheares-My lord, asI: had,no notion of dying
sunch' a death as I am aho1ut to meet, I:have only to ask your
lordship for sufficient titne to prepare myself and family for it.
I have a- wife and six clildren, and hope your humanity will




96               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
allow me some reasonable time to settle my affairs, and make a
provision for them. (Here he was so overwhelmed with tears
that he could not proceed.)
Mr. John Sheares-My lord, I wish to say a few words before the sentence is pronounced. because there is a weight
pressing upon my heart much greater than that of the sentence
which is to come from the court. There has been, my lord, a
weighlt pressing upon my mind, fiom the first Iloment I heard
the indictment read upon which I was tried; but that weight
has been more peculiarly and heavily pressing upon iny heart,
when I found the accusation in the indictment enforced and
supported upon the trial; and that weight would be left insupportable, if it were not for this opportulnity of discharging it. It
should be insupportable sinco a verdict of my country has
stamped that evldenlce as well founded.
Do not think, my lords, that I am about to make a declaration against the verdict of the jury, or the persons concerned
in the trial; I am only about to call to your recoile,;tionl a part
of the charge, which my soul shudders at; and if I had nlot this
opportunity of renouncing it before your lordships and.this auditory, no courage would be sufficient to support me. Tile accusation, my lords, to which I allude, is one of the blackest kind,
and peculiarly painful, because it appears to have been to unded
upon my own act and deed, and to be given under mny own
hand. The accusation of which I speak, while I linger herc yet
a moment, is, "that of holding out to:the people of Ireland a
direction to give no quarter to the troops fighting for its defence."  My lords, let me say this, and if there be any acquaintances in this crowded court, I will not say my intinlmate fiiends,
but acquaintances, who do not know that what I say is trul:th,
I should be reputed the wretch which I am not; I say, if any
acquaintatnce of mine can believe, that I can utter a recommendation of giving no quarter to a yielding and unoffreding
foe, it is not the death that I am about suffer which I deserve
-no punishment could be adequate to such a crime. My
lords, I can not only acquit my soul of sulch an intention, but I
declare in the presence of that God, before whom I must shortly
appear, that the favorite doctrine of my heart was, that no human being should sufer' death, but where absolute necessity required it.
My lords, I feel a consolation in making this declaration,




HENRY  AND JOHN SHEARES.                9'7
which nothing else could afford me; because it is not only a
justification of myself, but w]here I. am  scaling my life with
that breath. which cannot be suspected of falsehood, whlat I say
may make somle impression on the minds of men not holding
the salne doctrine.  I declare to God, I know  no crime but
assassination, which can eclipse or equal that of which.I am accused. I discern no shade of guilt between that, and taking
away the life of a foe, by putting a bayonet to his breast, when
he is yielding and; surrendering'. I do request the bench to believe that ot me, I do request my- country to believe that of me,
I am surie God will tllink that of me..
Now. my lords,I have another favor to ask of the court: my
country has decided that I amn guilty, and the law says that I
shall suffer: it sees that I am ready to siffer.
But, my lords, I have a favor to request of the court, that
does not relate to myself. My lords, I lhave a brother wholn I
have ever loyed dearer than myself; but it is not fioln any
affection fiom him alone that I am induced to make the request.
tie is a man, and therefore I hope, prepared to die, if he stood
as I do, thon gh I do not stanid unconnected, bult he stands more
dearly connected. In short, my lords, to spare your feelings
and my own, I do not pray that I should not die; but, that the
husband, the father, the brother, and the son, all comprised in
one person, holding these relations, dearer in life to hlim, than
to any other man I know, for such a man I do not pray a pardon, for theft is not in the power of the court, but I'pray a resIYite f or such lime as the cou;:t in'its humanity and discretion
shall think proper.'You have heard,my lords, that his private
affairs require:arrangement.  I have yet a farthei' room  for
asking; if immediately both of us be taken off, an aged and
revered inotller, a dear sister, and the most affectionate wife
that ever lived, and six children, will be left without protection, or provision of any kind. Wihen I address myself to your
lordships, it is with the knowledge you will have of all the
sons of our aged Amother beingr gone. Two have perished in
the service of the King; onle very recently. I only request,
that, disposing of me with what swiftness either the public
mind or justice requires, a respite may be given to my brother,
and that the family may acquire strength to bear it all.  Thlat
is all I wish; I shall remember it to my last breath, and I will
offer up my prayers for you to that Being, who has endued us
7




9.8               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
all with a sensibility to feel. This is all I have to ask. I have
nothing more to say.
Lord Carleton theni proceeded to pass sentence of death in a
feeling ranner, as follows:
In the awful duty imposed upon me, no man can be more
sensibly affected than I an, because I knew the very valuable
and respectable father and mother from whom  you are both
descended; I knew and revered their virtues. One of them,
happily for himself, is now no more; the otheli, for whorn I hlave
tihe higlest personal respect, probably, by the events of this day
may be hastened into faturity. It does not rest with me, after
the conviction which has taken place, to hold out mercy; that
is for another place; and I am afraid, in the present situation
of public affairs, it will be difficult to grant even that indul.
gence which you, Jollhn Sheares, so l)atlletically request for your
brother. With respect to one object of your soliciting time for
your'brother, unfortunately, it coul.l be of no use, because by
the attainder he will forfeit all his property, real and personal;
nothing to be settled will remain.'" It cannot be too much lamented, that two gentlemen well
educated, of good birth, respectable descent, and considerable
talents, should be- involved in a conspiracy, that rni-lfit have
spread desolation over the Kingdom; and brought us all to ruin.
This country has enjoyed as much fieedom and security in the
possession of everything that was dear and valuable, as was
consistent with a staple and effectual government, where a part
of our natural liberty is taken away in order to secure the
rest; his majesty has been celebrated for his mild and gracious
reign, as a strict observer and protector of our laws, our rights,
and our religion. His reign has been a cortinued series of
liberal concession to the people of this country, calling upon
them to make a suitable return of fidelity, attachment, and allegiance. The conspiracy in which you have been involved,
proposed as one of the means of effecting its object, to invite a
loreign enemy into this-kihgdom, and to subject this country
to foreigli yoke; the conspiracy had been remarkablb for the
system, perseverance, and art with which it has been conducted,
and for the wide diffusion of its principles. Other revolutions
have had for their object a change of monarchy, or an altera.
tion of the constitution. But this conspiracy proposed the de,




HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                 99
struction of the hligher orders of the state, and an almost general massacre. Those who formed this system, so artfully
carried on, endeavored to make the peol)le of the country bad
men, and tbereby to make themrn mo-re likely to become bad
8stbjects. The conspiracy of which you have been convicted,
had for its object thle destruction of the monarclhy and of tlhe
constitution, and to substitute anarchy, the worst of all tyrannies, in their place; and as far as we can collect firom the intelligence received upon the subject, to annilhilate all religion
and morality, without having any substitute, save the unrestrained licenltiousness of profligacy and vice; and this was
done when a foreign enemy had threatened to ilivade this
country-hllad denounced its destruction, and had avowed an
intention to erase its n,!ilte from the list of nations.
When you meditate thle destruction of our laws, religion,
and constitution, it is Suprlising you were not clleked and restrained in the attempt' by tile danger attending yourselves;
or by adverting to the extensive mischiefs which mlust have
necessarlily elsued.
Let mne with great earnestness and charity request yon to reflect
npon the enormity of your guilt, and that you will call to your
minds that effusion of humani blood which has already taken
place, and tllhat incalculable mischief which may follow a deliberate systeln of massacre and devastation. I could wislt that
the manitesto read in evidence against you hlad contained nothing sanguinary;   but recollect, that in that manifesto it was
declared that no person should be spared who did not join the
rebellion prior to the attack."
1r~. Joln SAheares.-I beg pardon, my lord, that was the
evidence of Captain Armstrong —it is not part of the paper.
Lord Carleton. —" I have not thle paper here.; but that evii
dence was given against you. It now ftlls to my lot, and I
never felt more' pain than I do upon the present occasion, to
pronounce that sentence which tile lawv has provided against
persons commtitting crimes of such mlaglitude as aim at thle
destruction of society. It is a sentence of great horror; but
such as the wis:lom of our ancestors ordained as a guard round
tlme person of the king, and as a fence about that noble constitution which was acquired by our ancestors, and which I
trust, we will transmit unimpaired to posterity, in order to




100              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
hold out terror to those who are disposed to do ill, and to afford
protection to-the loyal part of the country."
HIis lordship then pronounced sentence, that they be executed on the following day.
tMr. Attorney-General.-" My lord, I could with great sineerity, allow any indulgence of time, if the country could by
possibility admit of it. But, my lords, I have a great duty to
discharge, and must pray that, execution may be done to-morrow."
Court.-" Be it so."
The prisoners were then removed.
LETTERS OF JOHN SEIEARES TO -IIS MOTtIER AND
SISTER PREVIOUS TO HIS EXECUTION.
In tfle interval between the 10th and 14th of July;, the following most painfully affecting letters were written by John
Sheares to his mother and sister:
"  ILMAINHAM PRISON, only 10thL,'98.
"To JJulia Sheares.
"The troublesomne scene of life, my ever dear Julia, is
nearly closed and the hand that now traces these lines, will, in
a day or two, be no longer capable of communicating to a beloved and affectionate family, the sentiments of his heart. A
painful task yet awaits me,-I do not allude to my trial, nor to
my execution. These, were it not for the consciousness I feel
of tile mnisery you, all will suffer on my account, would be trivial, in comparison with the pain I endure at addressing you
for the last time. You have been kind to me, Julia, beyond
example; your solicitude for my welfare has been unremitting,
nor did it leave you a moment's happiness, as a wayward fate
seems, from the earliest moment of my life, to have presided
over my days. I will not recapitulate the instances of a perverse. destiny, that seems to have marked me out as the instrurment of destruction to all I loved.
Robert and Christopher, dear valued brothers; if it be true
that the.human miL ld survives the'body, I shall shortly join
you, and learn for what wise purpose Heaven thought fit to
select me as your destroyer. My mother too! O, God! my
tender, my revered mother 1. I see her torn locks-her broken




HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                  101
heart —her corpse! IIeavenly Author of the universe, wllat
have I done to deserve tills misery 
"I must forbear these thoughts as mluch as possible, or I
must forbear to write.  My time comes on the day after to,
morrow, and the event is unequivocal.  You must summon ui
all the resolution of your soul, my dear, dear Julia-if there
be a chance of snatching my afflicted mother from the grave,
that chance must arise fron your exertions-Imy darling Sally,
too, wiMl aid you-slhe will for a whlile suspend ler joy at the
restoration of her huslband to;: lier arms; for of llis escape I
have no more doubt, than I hlave of my conviction and its consequences. All, all of you, forget your individual gtiets, and.
joys and unite to save the best of parents foirom the grave,stald between her and despair,- if slie will speak of mne, siothl
lher with every asusurance calculated to carrly consolation to her
heart. Tell her tlhat my death, tllough noliminally iguroiniilous,'should not li-ht up a blush in her face; tlhat she: knew me incapable- of a dishonoritble action, or tlhought; that I died iri full
poesession of the esteem of all those who knrew me intimlately;
that justice will yet be done to my memory, and my fate be
mentioned, rather with lride than shame, by my -friends and
relations.  Yes, my dear sister, if I did not exlect the arrival
of thais justice to my mem(ory, I sllould indeed be afflicted at,the notninal igliominy of my deatlh, lest it nmay injure your
welfare and wound the feelings of my family.:But above all,
thing s, tell her that at ny oown request, I was attended in my
latest mloments, by that excellent and pious maln, Dr. Do)bbin,
and that my last pray-er was offered up for her.  Whlile I
feared for Earry's li!e, hell itself could havelno tortures for the
guilty, beyonld.wlhat I lave endured.:' pI lctu re you, all, a helpless, unprotected group of females,
left to thle miseries of your own feelings, and to the insults of:
a callous insensible world.  Sally, too, stripped of a husband,
on whom  shle so tenderly doats, and his children- of their
fatlher, and all by my cursed intervention, by my res-idence
with thlem.: Yet, IIeaven is my witness, how; assiduously I
sought to keep aloof in any of my political concerns from him,
and would hlave: entirely succeeded in d oing 6soif i it  ad not
been for the art of the villain Armstr.ngr,- and':arrys O'tIo incaution. My efforts, however, have kept him clear of any of
those i atters, that have involved me in destruction.::Vhena




102                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
Sally has got hini back to hler arms, and that I (who caused his
danger and her unhlqppinesi) shall be no mlore, sLe will ceaseb
to tlhink of me with reproach,-tllis I trubt she will do-shle
oulght-for sle herself could never have done nlore for hlis
salvation, than I enldeavored to do. Brt the scene is cLanged,
I ani no longer that frantic thling I was, whiile lhis danger appeared immlinent. A calmn sorrow for the suffering tlhat awaits
you on my account, and a heartfelt regret at being obliged to
qlit your loved society fl)r ever, has succeeded.  Yet, all this
will soon have arn end, and will comfort. I already anticipate the
moment, wten yo'lr subsiding grief gives you back to the enjorymlent cf each other. St;ll, my dearest Julia, even witen I
shall be no more, your pra e:sa on my account are not likely
to cease. You remeninber, I anm sure you do, your kind prolnise
of protecti.n to my po)(,r.at'ortunate little Louisa? I mke nodonlt,;t but her ilotiler will give her tip to your care w'th)ut relnoenance, yet h:3w tb itT-,pose tli8s new anxiety on you I kliew not.
But Cf tfis I m ill say nolthirg; I hnow your ]lea't, and never
coild re;'st the,godness, with which it insisted on easing,
nline, by l1urdeniilg itbelf. What to recommend relative to
hler, I canllot resclve.  Hlarry did once desire me to take her
into) Ilia house, but I had a thlousand ol)jections to that p1lan
then, acme of which still renmain; one mater'al one is, that she
woul I sooa learn froin servants and others, how different her
situati\,n;hlere was, from  that of thle other children, and her
young mind wmuld very early feel t.at chilling inferiority and
degr'taticn, tllhat lead to a debasement of principle, and ultimnat.ly to i.~ean and unworthy actions. No-a great many
reaslls c_)i.?r, t(! decide mne aainst that neasure. Sl:.e should
be put to solne sch!ool. where nore care is taken of hlealth than
edtucatior., and where thle only attention to mnorals, consists in
good honest exain:ple.  Aprop)s, she was at a Mrs. Duggran's,
at Brayv, to whorn I yet owe ten guineas for her, and whlcE  I
request of. my dear mother to pay f)r me, when coilvelient; I
do not owe any more on her account, to any one whatever. I
likewivs owe a no';e of hand for about thirteen pCllLds, ornilu0afs, to a man iL Cali -el street, wlhom the Fleming's kn )W.
I ca:snlot mention the nanlles of these fiiends without emotions
of gratitude and tenderness, not to be expressed; never cease
to assure them that I preserve the recollection of their goodness, tlhough thle instances of it are so nlany, and I shall feel it




HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                 103
to thle last moment; this debt they will be obliged to pay, if
not discllarged by my mother, as they passed their word for it.
Yciu will therefore Inention it to ily poor afflicted mother.
Great God! how have I stripped her and you; but I have
stripped you of happiness, and sllould not talk of money. I
owe a few guilneas to thle worthy Charles Corglllan, of Cork;
and about two, to Cole, the shoemaker, on Ormond Quay; to
II. Fielning's tailor, also, for a suit of black clothes, alld-I  believe sacrne small balance of an account to HI. Flemningl llimself.
Tills is all at present I recollect. Good night, Jalia; I am
going to rest, with a heart, thank Gcd! free from tile consciousness of intelltional offence, and from  ally wish tainted with
personal resentmept, I seek my bed with pleasure, because in
it, I so often fancy myself in the full possession of that domes-.
tic happiness, which I always regarded as the first of hluman
enjoyments. Pray HIeaven, I dream of you all nigllt.
"J. S."
"K ILMAINHAM PRIsoN.-Wednesday ni: t, |
July 11, 1798.  I
"The troablesomne scene of life is nearly closed; and thle
hand that now traces these lines, in a short time will be no
longer car al)le of commnlunicatincg to a beloved family the sentime'its of hlls heart.
I' t is now.eleven o'clock, and I have only time to address
my beloved Julia ir a short, eternal farewell.  Thou sacred
Power!-whatever be thy namne and llat ire —who las created
us tile frail and imperfect creatures that we are, hear tll.
ardent plrayer of or~e now on tlle eve of a most awflll change.
If thy I)iv:.ne Providence can be affected by mortal suppllicat!on, hear ard grant, I iost hunibly beseech thee, the last
wishles of a heart tlhat has ever adored thy greatnless and thy
goodr;ess. Let peace and happlinesb once imore visit the bosoln
of my beloved fazmily. Let a mild grief succeed thle niseries
they hlave endured; and, when an affe.tionate tear is genlleously shed over the dult of him who caused their misforuilnes, let
all their enbuing days glide on in union an!d domestic hlamony.
E!igL. ten my bloved brotller: to himn and his invaluable wife
grant the undistrbed enjo.yment of the'r mutual love; and, as
they advance, let tlheir attachmernt inc-ease.. Let mly Julia,
my feeling., my t.vo feeling, Julia, experience that consolation




104                 REMARKABLE TRIALS.
which she l]as so often inlparted to others; get her s'oul repose
at length in thll cortbunmation of all the wishes of her excellent
heart; let lier taste that happiness her virtues have so will
merited.  For lmy other sisters, provide those Sco!nforts'theih
situation  requires. To my inother-O, Eternal Power!  what
gift shall I wish for this matchless parent?  Restore hler to
that peace which I have unfortunately torn from  her: let Lter
forget me in the ceaseless affectilons of my sisters, and in, their
pro0peiriy; let her taste that ha'ppiness which is best suited to
her affectionate heart; and, whetn at'length she is called llome
let her find, in everlasting bliss, thle due reward of a life of
suffering virtue.
"Adieu, mny dear Julia!  My light is just out.  The — ap-.
pr6achl of darkness is like that -of death, since both alike re1quire me to say farewell! farewell, for ever!  O, miy dear
family, farewell!-Farewell, for ever!
"J. S."
The night before his execution the following letter was written to his mother. That letterslhort as it is, to 1" his dear, dear,
his injured, his beloved mother," might have satisfied tli6 vilndictive feelings of lhis most obdurate enemy, haa lie known the
mortal pangs that must have exceeded all former agonies of
mind of his unfortunate adversary, which that last f.lrewell to
a fond mIother fromn a favorite child must haVe cost the writer.'This letter bhars the simple superscription,-'" My MIother."
"My dear, injared, perhaps expiring mother, hear a son's,
-an unworthy son's —last request: grant to my beloved sister
Sa!ly, that p rtion of your generosity bestowed on me, else sthe
is penniless; but why urge this?-you know  her worthl; she
is genersity itself.  Farewell, my dear, dear (mother),:rmy
injured, my adored mother.  Oh! Sally, I hear your curses;
they are just!- Julia, beloved Julia-farewell for ever..
"JOHN SHEARES.
"Send. poor little Jane to the Swetes, with her dying f'atiler's request that they will let her be partaker with her cister of their bounty, fromn which alone she can hope for support.  If they should be        eniough to reject lher, need I
suggest to my adored mother the appropriation" of whatever




HENRY AND, JOHN SHEARES.               105
fragment, however small, may byg chance be within her gift.
But I k now that my harpy talons hlve seized on all.- -Once
more,, and forever, adieu, thou best -and most beloved of
parents."
THE EEXECUTION.
At twelve o'clock, the tine appointed tor: the execution,
"when the sheriffs arrived, the prisoners eltreated tlernm to:be
the bearels of a supplication to government for a shorlt respite,
in consideration of which, they offered to make the most useful
discoveries. This  message being clarlied to the castle, Gover'nInent beilg already possessed of complete information of every-'thing which the Sheares colid discover, refused to grant the
respite. Upon this refulsala new supplicatfon was made, in
the most abject terms, entreatiug a respite until.1cr.day, for at
least one of them. Of this inessage, the sheriffs  were humane
enough to be also the: bearers, but returned with a second refusal. Atthis repeated disappointment, thle prl.soners were most
dreadfully shaken; but upon being directed to prepare for
death, made a sudden and short effort by mutual enccuragement to rouse themselves. In the interval bet-ween tile reJ!v
to thelir last'message and the execution, the clerical gel.tlenlan
-who attended, continued to exhorttthem to full repenmar:ce and
disclosure of: their crimes. I-Ienry declared that lhis object was.reform, and that he never had: intended to excite indiscirninate
massacre. Johln made the same declaration.  While the'executioner was fixing the rope, he by some awkwardness rotlglly
pressed the neck of Henry, who exclaimed,d,: do you intend to
strangle rne before my time T'?" T!ley requested that they might
not continue long exposed to the ga.ze of the'- mlititude; and
having each an halter;fixed round his neck, and a cap drawn
over his face, holding each otier's hands, ttey tottered out upon
the platforrm in front'of the prison.  I1t making tA.e rope.fast
withiib, John. Sheares was hau-led up to the block of the tackle,
and continued nearly a: minute suspended alonei betore the
platform fell. It did fall, and instantly both were suspended.
After hangingt about twenty  t'minutes they were at a quarter
past th'ee o'clock, let down into the street, when tthe:hang,;men separated their!hemadsf1'orn their bodies, and taking the




106               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
heads severally up, proclaiin6d,'Behold the head of a traiitorl'
In the evening, the trunks and Ileads w-ere taken away in two
slells, prbvided by a respectable gentleman unhappily connected with one of the brothers."
It was the crulel custom of tlhose:times, to make the extreme
rigor of the law as terrible a.s possille to its victims. eTheir
fiiends were seldom permitted to see them.  Whoever has perused the life of Lord Edward Fitzgerald, will have noticed
the obstacles thrown in the way of tile immediate members of
lis lordshlii's family, to obtain a private interview wiith the dyillg maai, and the rigor of tle reg.ilation being only relaxed
by thle exertions in their bellalf of tile m6st powerful influence,
when the noble being was in tile agny of death.
In the case of the Sheares, no memllber of their family was
allowed to see them.
Anotlier account of the execution states that on Saturday, at:midnight, tlhey were cold.icted fioln their cells Io the room
adji,..ing tlhe place of execatiol. Tlhere, a they had done in
thie dock, w lien thleir doon was sealed. thley clasped each other
in their armns, and for some lminittes thle unfortunate Hienry
seemeild utterly stupefied and appalled at the frightful spectacle before him. He rallied sufficiently to disclaim  the sanguinary intentions imputed to him, as John had done, and
while still clinging to the latter, lie was pushed out on the platforml, hand-in-hand with his brother  No violence was requisite
to b).ing the other victim to the saffold; lis only fears were for
that dear biothei-, whose death he repronlched himself of being
the caluse of. The last words of Jiohn Sheares were-" I for —
give the world as I expect to be forgiven."  In life and death
they were inldeed united brothers.
After the mnutilation of their bodies (that remnant of the judicial barbarism of former titles), lhad aff,,rded the requisite satisfaction to offended justice, their remains were borne to the
same place of burial, and deposited in one of the vaults of St.
Michlan's church.
A small party of tlre Dub;in Loyal Cavalr;y attended as a
guard at the execution. The number of spectators Was incalculable.
Thle unnecessary cruelties inflicted by the executioner on
both brothers,'previously to their being launched into eternity,
-but especially the barbarity practiced on the younger, as de



HENRY AND JOHN SHEARES.                 1.07'
tailed in the preceding account, which is given- by those most
hostile to then, there is too mucll reason to believe, were not
to be ascribed to the " awkwardlless,"  which is assigned as a
reason for part ot the unnecessary violence practiced on the
elder brother.  Tile amount of violence done to the other,
forty-four years after the event, remains still visible on the face
and head of John Sheares.
EXTRAORDINARY APPEARANCE OF TIlE BODIES
AFTER INTERMENT.
In the church-yard of St. Michan's, the remains of some of
their forner friends and associates are interred- those of Bolnd
and of Dr. William Jackson, whose funeral tile Slleaves had:attended ill 1795, and who, for so doing, had incurred the displeasure of Lord Fitzgibbon.
Thlere issome peculiarity in the soil of this place of burial,
as well as in the atmosphere of the vaults benearth the church
of St. IMichlin's, tile tendency of which is to resist decolliposition, and to keep tie dead bodies, especially those deposited in
the vaults, in a state of preservation the mnost extraordinary
known in any country, with the exception of a cemetery in the
Island of Sicily, where the same process of embalming, iraturally effected, has gone on for centuries.
Bodies, which have been interred for upwards of a century,
in St Michan's, are still to be seen in the vaults, in a state of
preservation as perfect as that of the exsiccated mummies of
the humbler classes of the Egyptians, which were preserved
by a less expensive-process of embalming than that used f,,r
persons of distinction
In this dry and shrivelled state, the integuments remain e)crfect, the features preserve their character, the hair unldergoes
no alteration, and the limbs even, in some degree, retain their
shape.
" One of these bodies," Mr. Madden, in his U1nited I'Tislrmen,
speaking of this singular phenomenon, continuues to say" whose antiquity is of amncient date, for the tenants of European sepulchres, is still existing in the same vault in which the
Sheares' remains are interred: the remains are those of a per



108               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
son, inaformer time renowned for piety-a member of a; religious community-of the name of Crookshank, some sixty or
seventy years ago, the wonder-working effects produced by this
good lady's remains, used to bring vast numbers of visitants to
her tomb-till the spirit of whiskey,unfortunately mingled a little too nluch with t-he spirit of veneration fbr the virtues of the
nun, and tile rudiments of a fine " pattern" were spoiled by tile'
intervention of the authorities. Poor Miss Crookshank's relics,
from  that period till about tile year 1816, when I first saw
them, were visited only by curious boys and scientific gentlemen. In the month'of Felbruary in the present year, after a
lapse of twenty six years, I found the remains of the nun removed from the place where they were'originally deposited,
as likewise those of John and HIenry Sheares, and deposited
iln what is called the Parish Vault. Up to the time of the removal,'which took place about five or six years ago,  le remains continued, I was informed, in the same. perfect state in
which they have been long known to exist.' But the'exposure
to the air, conseqient to the removal of her remains, and thlose
of the Sileares on the same occasion, had proved injurious to
them, and to the latter especially.
When I first saw the remains of the Sheares, about twentySix years ago' i wNvas accompanied to St. Michaln's by a schoolfellow, of tlhe' name of Blake. When I visited the place in the:nonth of January last, the same companion was with me likewise on that occasion. I found the remains of the Slleares in a:
state of dissolution. The features were no longer discernible;
the coffinls even had mouldered away, after the exposure to thlle
external air, on their removal fr,)m an adjoining vault.: 01
examiniilg tile head of the body described as that of John
Sheares. I was surprised to find the head was that of a person
extremely aged, the sutures entirely obliterated, and time alve:
olar processes quite worndown.~  I said to the Sexton,"]lhis
is not the head -of John Sheares; he replied, "that it could
be no other."
For some days subsequently to this visit to the place -of inll
terment of the  Sheares, the circumstances connected with it
were uppermost in my- mind,; and were spoken of to several
persons.  At length, I received a communication from  a gentleman well known in the city of Dublin, which removed all
doubt as to the. correctness of tie opinion I: had expressed




HENRY AND -JOHN SHEARES.               109
with re'spe6t to the head Shown with' the remains of John
Sheares.
This-'gentleman informed me that, when a'mere boy, about
twenty years ago, he went with some other lads of his own
age, to see thd remains of the Sheares.  The idea had come
into his mind, to take away the head of John- Sheares, whom
he had often heard spoken of withl enthusiasm by one of his
comptanions, a younog fellow of rather. democratic.opinions —
and, it was ad~ded, of the Roman'Catholic religion-[my inf;trmant was of neither one nor the other].  I-e took a boy
with hlim into the vault, whllon le had seen in the chllrcll-yard,
anid promnised to reward him if he carrled away the head unperceived.
Tile head -was attached to the body. by: a strip of the integunments of the back part of the neck.' The boy was supplied
with a penk'liife, and' the head was removed and carried home
to tihe person's hoUse, where it lhad remained for the last
twenty years. This gentleIan tld me lie had often regretted
takilg it; and as lle knew that I was interested' in matters appertaining to tile Sheares, I migllt liave it. I willir!gly accepted
the offer, on condition of doingl with it what'might seemn best
tome, alind it was sent to me tlme day following. It was in the
state:precisely in which -I had seen it twenty-six years ago, as
perfect as any New Zealand or.Egyptian head of the inferior
class of mulmlmies. The llead was finely formned, but the expression of the face-that of' the;most frightfrl. agony.  Tle
mark of very violent injuries, dtone during life to tlme right eye
and nose,. were particularly apparent.; the very indeintatioround thle neck, fi'om tle presstlre of the rope, was visible;
and thle.'e was no inljnry to the cervical vertebrla. occasioned by
any instrument-in fact, thle hlad hlad not been entirely sep.
arated from thle body at the tille of execution.
The marks of violence on thle tfce, thllee can be little doubt,
were occasione Iel by the_ barbarouts.act committedl by the executiorer, betfoe he was launched itlto eterllity, as d.scrited in
a  Cork paper. The circumstance of the head having been
found attached to the body at the titne of its removal, is collnected with a matter somewvllat singular.' I may observe, thlat
the head thus slightly attacled to the trunkl, was seen by Mr.
William H. Curran, about twenty-one years ago. John Sheares,
after sentence was pronounced on him, in order to prevent or




110'.  -REMARKABLE'TRIALS.
put some difficulty in the way of the executioner holding up
his head pursuant to the sentence, after execution,' lad-lhis hair
cut close, and the act had tlleeffect lie intended; for'tlough
the barbarous ceremony of cuttin'g througll the neck was performed, the head was not separated frown the body.  Barrington sav the.executioner holding up the head of ]his fiiend
(Henry) on his arrival, but he makes no mention of the sanme
being done with John's.
The hair on the head, as it was when sent to me, was of a
light brown color; and was cut, or rather clipped, extremely
short..
In the latter end. of January, 1842, having obtained the
necessary permission  firom  tile clergyinan of St. Miclan's
churchl, the remains of thle Sheares were placed in coffins of
lead, and the best Irish oak that could be procured for them,
in the presence of one wlho haLd i)een in his young days a member of thle same society to which they belonged, and of two
other individuals.
Thle hlead of whichl I havre spoken was placed with the remains of John Sheares, a plaster cast of it having been previously taken,'which is now in the possession of Mr. Donovan,
a London phrenologist.
The two coffins were laid side by side, and so far, I trust,
the possibility is-prevented of their retmains beingcy disturbed
ill future.
The remnains of Mr. Samuel Rosborouhl, a man once of some
notoriety in Dublin; and likewisetthose of the nun, Miss Crooksllank, semi-canornized nlearly a cent!.-ry ago inl the minds of
thousands of her-Cathiolic —tAll,w citizens, are deposited in
the same vault of Henry and John Siieares.




T/E BURNING OF THE SHEAS.              11l
THE BUINING OF THE SHEAS
TERRIBLE AGRARIAN OUTRAGE COMMITTED IN IRELAND N 1821.EIGHTEEN HUMAN BEINGS BURNED TO DEATH IN THEIR OWN HOUSE.
-A CHILD BORN IN THE FLAMES.-SINGULAR CIRCUMSTANCES
ATTENDING THE DETECTION OF THE CULPRITS. —AN EYE-WITNESS
TO THE SCENE K1EEP8 THE' SECRET SIXTEEN MONTHS.-THE TRIAL
AND EXECUTIO.N  OF THE FIENDS WHO COMMITTED THE MURDER.RICHARD LALOR SHIEL S GRAPHIC HISTORY OF THE TRAGEDY, AND
SPEECH AT CLONMEL IN RELATION THERETO, &C. &C.
IN Ireland very many murders have been committed, growing
out of the horrible tyranny of the landlord, and their grinding oppression over the poor tenants, who. by rents, tytlhes, taxes and English
statutes, were and are reduced to a state inferior to that of abject
slavery.. The misfortunes of this long-suffering people are familiar
to every reader of history. These misfortunes can be traced in letters of blood. Yet nothing could justify or palliate the horrible
barbarities which were perpetrated under the goading and maddening despotism exercised over them. In the catalogue of these
crimes, the " burning of the Sheas" stands foremost as the bloodiest
record in the book of crime. This tragic affair is so well told in
"Sketches Legal and Political," by the late Richard Lalor Shiel,
edited by M. W. Savage, and- published in London in 1855, that we
transcribe it almost literatim. These sketches were written by
AMr. SHIlL for one of the magazines of the day, and it was not
known for some time who the author was.
"The assizes of Clonmel (Ireland), held there in 1828, presented a dreadful nliscellany of the most barbarous crimes,
most of which were of an insurrectionary character, and re* The same sketches were edited by Dr. SHELTON MCKENSIEs and pub.
lished in New York some years ago.




112                REMARKABLE: TRIALS.
quired the exercise of the strongest powers of the law. The
presiding justice was Judge Burton, who seemed to recoil in
dismay from the calendar, which nlumbered not less thorn three
lhundred and eighty prisoners. The government felt *that it
was necessary to do their utmost in order to repress so alarm
ing a growth of crime; and with a view to the proddllction of
effect, and in order to give the administration of jubtice more
impressiveness, deemed it advisable to send Mr. Sergeant
Blackburne, as special Counsel for the crown. Ile accordingly
arrived in Clonmel at the Deginning of the assizes; and as he
enjoyed no ordinary reputation, his mission had the desired
effect, by drawing the general attention to the cases which he
conducted.," Upon the first day of his appearance, hie availed Ihimself of
the right of the crown to address the jury (although that priv
ilege at that time was denied to the prisoner againbt wlhom
the speecli was directed), ii order to present a picture of the
general condition of the country.  Thee county Tipperary was
almost in a state of insurrection. Armed bands of peasants
traversed the country in open day, and put, to death in face of
the law whoever presumed to violate the code of regulations
which they had arbitrarily imnposed, under au.thority of. their
invisible chieftain, Captain Rock. During the assizes tllemselves, two murders were committed, and Mr. Lanigan, the
land-agent of Lord LandafF, was fired at by a party of armed
men. The evils by which the county was actually afflicted
were in themselves sufficiently alarming, without lookillng into
ulterior results; but it was impossible not to reflect upon the
consequences which mnight ensue from the political and moral
state of a famished and ferocious population, provided with
arms, regularly organized, and acting upon systematic principles of insubordination.
"Independently of the general aspect of the country, which
opened sucll a wide field to a pdwerful speaker, the individual
case in which he addressed the jury was one of the most appalling that can be ilnagined, and attended with circumnstances
of strangeness as well as atrocity, which fuilnishnd atn occasion
for the noblest oratory.  Eighteen  individuals had been
burnt alive in one of the dark and lonely glens of the Miountain
Of Slievenamaun, and the chief perpetrator of that terrible




THE BURNING OF THE SHEAS.               113
deed stood in all the ghastliness of guilt at the bar. The courthouse was filled to suffocation, by persons  of all classes; and
the vast asembly, together with the leading aristocracy of that
opulent county, included in all likelihood some of the brothel;incendiaries of the villain who was brought at last to a tardy
justice.  The deepest silence prevailed. The judge himseli;
however, from his judicial experience disastrously familiar with
scenes of this kind, seemed to be awe-struck by the consciousness
of the important consequences of the trial, and weighed down
by tire magnitude of the crimes over the investigation of which
he was condemned to preside. While the oath was administered to each of the jury, every eye was rivetted upon the individual who held the sacred volume in his hand. While he
pressed the word of God to his lips, his countenance was closely
watched, and it was easy to perceive upon the faces of the
twelve men, upon whose concurrent voices the life of their fellow-creature  was to depend, a strong solicitude, amounting
almost to an expression of fear, at'the hazard which they were
about to incur by a conviction."
Thlis jury was impanelled for the trial of William Gorman, to
which l have already referred, for " the burning of the Sheas."
It is by that title that the terrible crime in which so many im
molators and so many victims are involved, is habitually designated; and. whenever a man expatiates upon the atrocities
which disgrace the country, and upon the conflagrations by
which its character is blackened, hle refers as to a leading illustration, to "the burning of the Sheas."
I shall not readily forget the impression which was produced
upon me, onl my first passing near the spot in which that dreadful incident took place, when some of its details were narrated
by one of my fellow-travellers, in descending the narrow defile
of Glenbower. The remains of the habitation in which the eighteen lhuman beings were committed together to the flames, are
not visible from the road that winds at the foot of the mountain on Ohllich it was situated; but the dark and gloomy, glen
in which the deed was done can be pierced by tile eye, when
the mists that hang upon the lofty ridge do not envelop it
and it is always with af ve, which is not a little assisted by the
loneliness and dreariness of the scene, that tile traveller turns
his eyes toward that dismal valley, to which his attehtion, is
8




111  -nREIArXTABLE TRIALS.
directed by the haotualI exclamation wnlch I naa never failed
to hear:  "There is tle place where the Shleas were burnt 1"
I had an opportunity, ill colsequence of having attended two
trials connected witll that frightful event, of learningi the cirsumstances by which it was attended.
Upon the morning of thle 20th of November, 1821, the remains of the house of Patrick S ea, a respectable farmer, who
held a considerable quantity (," land at the foot of the mountain of Slievenamaun, exlibited an appalling spectacle. It had
been.consumned by fire oil thle preceding night; and a large
concourse of people (the intelligence of the conflagration having been rapidly diffused through the neighboring glens) assemblled to look!upon the ruins.  Of the thatched roof which
had first received tile fire, a few smoking rafters were all that
remained.  The walls had given way, and stood gaping in
rents, through which, on approaching them, the eye caught a
glimlpse of the dreadful effects: of the devouring element. Theo
door was burnt to its hinges; and, on arriving at the threshold,
as awful a scene offered itself to tle spectator as is recorded in
the annals of terror. The bodies of sixteen human beings of
both sexes lay together in a mass of cori ses. The door having
been closed when the flames broke out, the inhabitants precipitated themselves toward it, and in all likelihood mutually
counteracted their efforts to burst into the open air. The lonuse.
being, a small one, every individual in it had an opportunity
of rushing toward the entrance, where they were gathered by
hope, and perislled in despair.  IIere they lay piled upon each
other. Those who were uppermost were burnt to the bones,
while. the wretches who were stretched beneath them were
partially consumed.  One of the spectators, the uncle of a.young woman, Catl:erine AMullaly, who perished in the flames,
described the scene with a terrible particularity.  With an
expression of horror which six years had not effaced, he said,
when examined as a witness, that the melted flesh ran from
the' leap of carcasses' in black streams along the floor.
But terrible as this sight must have been, there was anotner
still more appalling.  The young woman, whom I have already
nentioned, Catllerine Mulfaly, resided in the house, and had
been not very long before married.  She had advanced a considerable period in pregnancy, and her child, which was born
in the flames in a premature labor, made the eighteenth victim.




THE BURNING OF THE SHEAS.              115
I shall never forget thle: answer' given by her uncle at the trial 
when he was asked how manlly had perished, he answered that
there Were seventeen: but thatit the child that was dropped,
(that was his phrase) in the fire was counted, the whole would
make eighteen. His unfortunate niece was delivered of her
offspring in the midst of the flame. She was'not found among
the mass of carcasses at the door. There were sixteen wretches
assembled there, but, on advancing farther into the house in a
corner of the room, lay the body of this unhappy young creature, and that condition in which her child was discovered accounted for her separation from the group of the dead. A tub of
water lay on the ground beside her. In it she had placed the
infant of which she lad been jnst delivered while the fires were
raging about her, in the hope of preserving it; and in preserving
its limbs shle had succeeded, for the body was perfect with the
exception of the head, which was held above the water, and
which was burned away. Near this tub she was found, with
the skeleton of the arm with which she had held her child
hanging over it!  It will be supposed that the whole of this
spectacle excited a feeling of dismay among the spectators;
but they were actuated by a variety of sentiments. Most of
themn had learned caution and silence, which are among the
characteristies of the Irish peasantry, and, whatever were their
feelings, deemed it advisable to gaze on without a comment;
and there were not wanting individuals  who, folding their
arms, and looking on the awful retribution, whispered sternly
to each other that " William  Gorman  was at last, revenged!"
When information of this dreadful event reached Dublin, it
produced, as it was natura. to expect, a very great sensation.
It was at first believed that " the burning of the Slleas" was
the result of that confederacy by which tlhe peasantry had regulated the taking of lands;. and that as the previous-tenant,
one William Golrman, had' been ejected by the Sheas, against
the will of the people, the:house had been set on fire. But it
was asked, "what object could there be in destroying so many
individuals who were innocent of. all crime, and were mere
laborers and servants in the' employment of the occupying
farmer?"  This reflection, and a wish to rescue the national
cha'acter from the disgrace of so wanton an atrocity, gradually
induced a surmise that the fire had been accidental: and V.his




116               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
conjecture was confirmed by the fact that, notwithstanding a
large reward had been offered for the discovery of the incendiaries, no information was given to the Government. At
length, however, the fatal truth was disclosed, and it was ascertained that the conflagration was the result of a plot executed
by a considerable band of men, and that the whole population
in the neighborhood were well aware both of tile project and
ofits execution. The first clew to this abominable transaction
was given by a woman of the name of Mary Kelly.
This female lhad been a person of dissolute life, and had married a servant, who, having relinquished his employment, some
time after his marriage, established, with the assistance of his
wife, wlat is commonly called a shebeen-hotuse, in the vicinity
of the Sl)eas, at the foot of Slievenamaun.  It was a kind of
mnountain-b'othel, or rather combined the exercise of a variety
of trades, which, in the subdivision of labor that takes place in
towns, are generally practised apart. IIer husband stated that
he sold spirits without license; provided board and lodging to
any passengers who thought it expedient to take up their
abode with him; and that if a young inan and woman had any
wish to be left alone in his hospitable and accommodating
mansion at a late hour at night, he and his wife did not think
it genteel to rheddle with their discourse. It will be thouglht
singular that, in so wild and desolate a, district, in the midst
of solitary glens and moors, such conveniences should exist;
but they are not unfrequent; and one often meets these traces
of civilization inparts of the country which carry no other
evidence of refinement!
Mary Kelly appears to have superintended and conducted
this establishment; her husband merely giving it the sanction
of wedlock, and joining in the licentious conviviality which
took place under his auspices. But although his wife had, upon
her own admission,'been of profligate habits, until time had
transmuted her, by the ordinary process, from a harlot to a
procuress, yet she does not appear to have' been utterly devoid
of all virtuous sentiment; and, indeed, the scene which sloe
had witnessed was of such a nature as to awaken any remnant
of conscience, which often, in the midst of depravity, is found
to linger behind.
A peasant of the name of William Gorman, at whose trial
Sergeant Bla.ckbu:'ne conltlcted the p'osecution, liad originally




'HE BURNING OF THE SHEAS.                 117
held the house where tile Sheas resided. -IIe was their undertenant, and hleld thle lowest ulace in those numerous gradations
of tenure into which almost every field is divided and sulbdivided; for the Slheas were not middle-meln in the strict sense
of thie word, but stood themselves at a great distance from. the
lead-proprietor of the estate, although they were - the immediate landlords of Gorman. The more remote the head-landlord,
the heavier the weighlt with which oppression falls on thle occupier of the soil. The owner of the fee presses his lessee;
the latter comnes down upon the tenant, who derives from himln,
who, in his turn, crushes his own imnmediate serf; an I if, which
often happens in tllis long conlcatenation of vassalage, there
are many other interventions of estate, the occupier of the soil
is in proportion made to stiffer; and is, to use the expression
of Lord Clare, "ground to powder," in this complicated system
of exaction! William Gorman was dealt witlh most severely.
He was distrainedl, sued in tile superior courts, processed by
civil bill-in short, the whole mnachinery of the law  was put
into action against hinm.  Driven fr'om his lorne  deprived of
his few fields, withoult covert or shelter, lihe made an appeal to
the leaugne of peasants witlh whom he was associated; and, as
the Sheas had infringed upon their statutes, it was determined
that they should die, and that an exemplary and appalling
vengeance should be taken of tliem.
I saw William Gornman at tlhe bar of the court in which he
was condemnned.  He ]lear:d thle whole detail of the atrocities
of which lie had been the primary agent.  He was evidently
most solicitous for thle preservation of life; yet the expressionl
of anxiety which disturbed his ghlastly features occasionally
gave way to the exuilting cu,rlscioisness of his revenlge; and,
as he. lheard the narration ot hlis own delinquenries, so itr from
intimating conitrition or remorse, a savage joy flashed over his
face;,his eyes were liglhted up with a fire as lurid as that whicl
he had kindled in thle habitation of his enemies; his bland,
which lad previously quivered, and manifested, in the irre,11lar,lovemntnt of his fingers, the workings of deep anxiety, becamne, for a moment, clinched; and when the groans of his
victitns were described, his wlhite teeth, which were unusually
prormiinent, were bared to the gums; and, though he had
drained the cup of vengeance to the dregs, still he seemed to




118                REMARIKABLE TRIALS.
smack his lips, and to lick the blood with which Ihis injuries'bad been redressed!'l'lli man had the vindictive feelings of a savage; but, while,his barbarities admit of no sort of extenuation, they still were
not withonut a motive.  -I.is co-partners in villany, however,
w-ho arran:e-1 and conducted the enterprise? had no illstigation
of perso!nal vengeance, toward thle op)pressors of Williaml  Gorman.  At tlheir hend was a bold and sagacious rtffialn, whose
name'was Maher. -It was de!eritlled that. their plot should
be carried into execution on Motday, the 20th of Novelmber.
011 the precedilng Saturdlay, Malher wellt to MI1ary Kelly's
houwe, and retired to a recess in it, where he employed r liimself
in Inelting ]cal, a!,d filsingr it into balls.'He was supposed to
-,e a l)a'am(,ir' of Mary K.illy. (tholngh slie strenuounsly dellied
it),:lnd slhe was certaillyg fahmiliar w itll hiln.  She lhrad ]heard.
(ildeed, it was known throulgh the whole of that wild vicintage)
that it was iiitended to irnflict s!ummnary j lstice upon the Sheas;
and being wuell aware tllat M.her was: like'y to dip hIis hands
in any bloody lbsiness w1hich was to go on, and observing hIis
occupation, wilich lie did lnot seek to thide tiom lher, shle taxed
bhin with his " slailghterous thioughlts," and having some good
instincts left, begged him not to take life away.  Maher answered witl equivocation.
During this colloquy, Catherine Mullaly, a cousin of Mary
Kelly, came into tlhe Iouse.  Maller was well-acquainted with
lher, and liad tlle rude gallantry which is c~ommon among the
Irishl pe santry.  Sle resided as a servant with the Sheas.,
Mahiier believed that there were arms in the Sheas' possession,
and knew tlhat there were a nulnber of persons living in the
house, with a view to their defence.  The extent, however, of
their me:sill  of self-protection the murderers had not ascertained, and it was important to learn the fact, in order that
tlhe-y  igllt adapt to circumstahces their mnode of attack.  It
is p1)obable, that, if there had been no( weapons in  the house,
the con-pirators would have burst open the door, dragged the
Slhcas (ut, and put thlen to deathll, and would have spared the
more unioffending victims  but having discovered that there
were firearms in abun-dalce,  they considered the lurnming of'
the h-,l-se as a measure of self-defence, independerntly of the
impre-sion which a mInassacre Ul)on a large scala would be likely
to ul'oduce.  Miaher, therefore,l soughllt to ascertain,the state of




THE BURNING OF THE SHEAS.               119
defence from Catherine Mullalv, and entered into conversation
with her in the tone of mixed joke and gibe, of which the
lower orders, who delight in repartee, are exceedingly fond.
The young woman was pleased with his attentions, and in the
innocence of her heart, not ~having any suspicion of his intent,
gradually disclosed to him that tllere was a quantity of arms
in the house. Maher, on her departure put an her cloak, and
bade her farewell in the tone of frliendshlip.  Mary Kelly, who
knew him well, and guessed at his oljecet, the moment GCathlerine Mullaly was gone (for she did not dare to speaki in her
presence) implored Maher, whatever lhe might intend, not. to
harin Caterine Mtllaly.
She extorted a lromnise from him  to that effect, on whiche
she relied for the moment, and,tley separated; Maher- with
his balls, and Mary Kelly with the undertaking for the lifte of
Catherine Mullaly, in which she placed so mistaken.a confidence. After some' reflection, however, her alarm Tfr tile
safety of her relative, to wholl shle was limuch. attached, revived,
and during the next day her suspicions were increased by the
notes of preparation whlich she observed between Mahler and
his.confederates. However, she did not venture to speak; for,
to use her own phrase, " a word would have been as much as
her life was worth;" still a terrible inquietude preyed upon
her, and, as if actuated by some mysterious impulse) upon
Monday night, when her husband, to whom  she never coinmunicated her apprehensions, was asleep, she silently rose
from  bed, and having huddled. on his coat, left her' cabin,
though it was near midnight, and iadvanced cautiously and
slowly along the hedges, until she made her way to near
Maher's house. She stopped, and heard the voices of men
engaged in discussion, which lasted some time; at length the
door opened — she hid herself behind some brambles, and
bending down, in order to avoid detection. which would have
been death, she marked the murderers as they came forth.
They issued from Maher's house in arms, and walked in a sort
of array, advancing in file. Eight of them she knew; and, as
she alleged, distinctly recognized them  by their voices and
looks. One of them carried two pieces of turf. lighted at the
extremities, and kept the fires alive withl his breath.
They passed her without observation and proceeded upon
their dreadful destination. Trembling and terror-struck, but




120               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
still impelled to pursue them, she followed on from hedge to
hedge, until they got beyond her; and perceiving that they
proceeded toward the house of the Sheas, she stopped at a
spot from  which the house was visible, and by which the
murderers, after executing their diabolical purpose, afterward
returned. HIere she remained in terrible anticipation, and her
conjecture was speedily verified. A  fire suddenly appeared
in the roof of Shea's bouse; the wind high, it rose rapidly
into a flame, and the whole was speedily in a blaze. It cast round
the rocky glen a frightful splendor, and furnished, in its extensive diffusion of light, the means of beholding all that took
place close to the burning cottage, in which shrieks and cries
for mercy began to be heard. The murderers had secured the
door; and having prevented all possibility of escape, stood in
groups about the house, and gazed on the progress of the conflagration. So far from being moved to pity, they answered
the invocations of their victims with yells of ferocious laughter.
They set up a war-whoop of exultation, and in token of triumph, discharged their guns and blunderbusses to celebrate
their achievement. There was an occasional pause in their
shouts: nothing then was heard but the' crackling  of the
flames, that shed far and wide their desolate illumination; and
the spectatress of this dreadful scene, though at some distance
1rom it, declared that, in the temporary abatement of the wind,
and the cessation of its gusts, she could at intervals hear the
deep groans of the dying, and the gulps of agony with which
their tortures were concluding.
But the fiends by whom these infernal fires were kindled,
soon reiterated their cries of exultation, and discharged their
guns again. The report of their firearms, which was taken
up by the echoes of tile mountain, produced a result which
they had not anticipated. On the opposite side of a hill which
adjoined the house, there resided a man of the name of Philip
Dillon, who was a friend of the Sheas. Hearing the discharge
of guns, and suspecting what had taken place, he summoned
as many as he could gather together, and proceeded at their
head across the hill, in order, if possible to save the Sheas.
They advanced toward. the house, but arrived too late: neither
had they courage to attack the murderers, who at once drew
up before the flames to meet them. Philip Dillon, indeed,
defied them to come on, but they declined his challenge, and




THE BURNING OF THE SHEAS             121
waited his attack, which, as his numbers were inferior, he
thought it prudent not to make.  Both parties stood looking at
each other, and in the meanwhile the house continued to blaze.
rihe groans were heard for a little time, until they grew fainter
and fainter; and at length all was silent.
Although the arrival of Philip Dillon did not contribute to
save any of the sufferers, still it was the means of convicting
William Gorman, by affording a corroboration to the testimony
of Mary Kelly. John Butler, a boy, who was in the employment of Philip Dillon, and accompanied him to the burninghouse, was the brother of one of the servants of the Sheas.
Notwithstanding he could not give any assistance to his
brother, yet his anxiety to discover the murderers indued
him to approach nearer than his companions to the flames,
when, by the fire which they had kindled, Butler had an
opportunity of identifying William Gorman, against whom
he gave his testimony, and thus sustained the evidence of Mary
Kelly.
All was now over —the roof had fallen in, and the ruins of
tile cottage were become a sepulchre. Gormnan and Maher,
with their associates, left the scene of their atrocities, and
returned by the same path by which they had arrived. Another eye, however, besides that of God, was upon them. They
passed a second time near the place where Mary Kelly lay concealed; again she cowered at their approach; and, as the'y went
by, had a second opportunity of identifying them.  Iere a circumstance took place which is, perhaps, more utterly detestable
than any other which I have yet recorded. r he conversation of
the murderers turned upon the doings of the night, and William
Gorman amused the party by mimicking theqgroans of the dying, and mocking the agonies which he had inflicted.
The morning now began to break, and Mary Kelly, hlaggard,
affrighted, and laden with thle dreadful knowledge of what had
taken place, returned to hler home. Well aware, however, of
the consequences of any disclosure, she did not utter a syllable
to her husband, or to her son, upon the subject; and altiiougll
examined next day before a magistrate, who conjectured, fromn
the ill fame' of her house, that she must have had some cognizance of what had taken place, she declared herself to be
innocent of all knowledge. John Butler, too, who- had witnessed the death of his brother, immediately proceeded to the




122               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
house of his mother, Alicia Butler, an old woman, who was
produced as a witness for the crown; lie awoke her from
sleep, and told her that her son had been burned' alive. Hier
maternal feelings burst into an exclamation of horror upon first
hearing this dreadful intelligence;b-ut instead of immediately
proceeding to a magistrate, she enjoined her son not to speak
on the subject, lest she herself, and all her family, should suffer the saine fate.
For sixteen months, no information whatever was communicated to; Government. Miry Kelly was still silent, anddid not
dare to reproachm Maher with-the murder of Cathlerine: Mullily,
for wrhose life she had made a stipulation   She did not even
venture to.look in the face of the: murderer, although, when
he visited at her house, which he continued to do, slhe could
not help shuddering at his presence.  Still the deeds which
she had seten were inlaid and burned in dreadful colors in her
mind.  The recollection of the frightfil spectacle never left
her. Slhe beeame almost incalpable of sleep; and, haunted by
ilnlages of horror, used in the dead of night to rise firom her
bed, and wander over the lonely glen in which she had seen
such sights; and although one would have supposed that she
would have instinctively fled from  the spot, she felt herself
dlawn by a kind of attraction to the ruins of Shea's habitation,
where she was accustomed to remain till the morninr  broke,
and then retuln wild and wan to her home. She stated:when
examined in private previous to the trial in which she gave
her evidence, that she was pursued by the -spectre of'her unf,ortunate kinswomen, and that whlenever she lay down in her
bed, slie thought of.the "burning,' and felt as if Catherine
Mullaly was lyingbeside her, holdling her child, "as black as
a coal in lher arms."  At length lier conscience got the better
of lher apprehensions, and in confession shle revealed her secret
to a priest, who prevailed upon her to give infolrmation, which,
after a struggle, she commulnicated to Captain Despard, a justice of the peace for the county of Tipperary.,Slch were the incidents which accompanied the perpetration of a crimrne, than which it is difficult to imagine one more
enormous. To do the people' justice, immediately after the
conviction and execution of Willilam  G,+rmall, they appeared
to feel the greatest horror at his guilt; and of thlat sentiment
a Roman Catholic assembly, held during tle assizes, afforded a




THE BURNING OF THE SHEAS                   123
strong proof.  Tile assizes nad gathered an immense concourse
of the lower orders from all l)arts of the country, and Mr. Slleil,
conceiving that a favorable opportunity had presented itself
for giving a salutary admonition to the people, and believing
tlat his advice would be fully as likely to produce an imllression as the declamation of Mr. Sergeant Blackbulrne, used liis
influence in procuring a public meeting to hbe summiloned.  A
vast multitude thronged to the place of assembly; and I aln
bestowing  no sort of encoiniun upil)on Mr. Slieil, wllen I say
that lhis speech:produced a great- deal of effect up)on the 1peasantry,:for the bare statement of tle facts which alpeared ill evidence in the course of the assizes, would have been sufficient. to
awaken deep emotions wherever the instincts of humanity were
not utterly extilguished.  As Mfr. Slleil's adldress contained a
summary of the principal cases in which Sergeant Blackblnrlne
wvas engzaged, and lie dwelt especially upon that of Matllew.I,,gan, which was attended by many afflicting circinmstlnces, I
slhall close this article by a citat'on finom the concluding lassaes
of that gentleman's speecll. " The recollection," lie conti nued,
"' of what I hlave seen and heard during.the present assizes, is
enoughll, to freeze the blood.  Well might Jiudge Burtons, who
is a good and tender-hearted man- well might lie say, with
tears in Ihis eyes, that he llad not in thle course of his judicial
experience beheld so friigh ful  a mass of enorrmnites as the
calendar presented.  I-Iow deep a stain ]lave those misdeeds left
upon the character of your country, and what efforts sllou:ld
not be made by every man of ordinary humanity; to arrest
the progress of villany,'Which is rolling a torre!lt of bloodl, and
bearing down all the restraints of law, mnoraliy, and religion,
before it.  Look, for example, at the murder of the Slieas, and
tell me if there be anythin.g in the records of hlorror by which.
that accursed deed-has been excelled?  The unbor n child, the
little innocent who had never lif ed its innocent hlands, or
breathed the air of heaven-tlle little child in its r-othler's
womb.. I do not wonder that the tears which f ow down the
lleeks of many a rude face about me shoull d bear attestation
to your hiorror of that detestalble atrocity. But I am wronlg in
saying that the chlid xvho peris ied in tlle flames was not born.
Its mother was delivered in thle midst of the flames.  Mferc(iful
God!  Born in fire!  Sent into thle world in tlle midst of a
furnace! transferred firom ti.e womb to the flames that raged




124              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
round the agonies of an expiring mother! There are other
mothers who hear me. This vast assembly contains women,
doomed by the primeval malediction to the groans of childbirth, which can not be suppressed on the bed of down,
into which the rack of maternal agony still finds its way. But
say, you will know it best, you who are of the same sex as
Catllerine Mullaly, what must have been the throes with
which she brought forth her unfortunate offspring, and felt her
infant consumed by the fires with which she was surrounded!
We can but lift up our hands to the God of justice, and ask
hlim why has he invested us with the same forms as the demons
who perpetrated that unexampled murder! And why did
they comimit it — by virtue of a horrible league by which they
were associated together, not only against their enemy, but
against human  nature and the God who made it!-for they
were bound together-they were sworn in the name of their
Creator, and they invoked Heaven to sanctify a deed which
they were confederated to perpetrate by a sacrament of Hell.
Although accompanied by circumstance of inferior terror, the
recent assassinatiou of Barry belongs to the same class of
guilt. A body of men at the:close of the day enter a peaceful
habitation, on the Sabbath, and regardless of the cry of a
frantic woman, who, grasping one of the murderers, desired
him'to thlink of God, and of the blessed nillt, and to spare.the father of her eight children!' dragged him fortll, and when
he,'offered to give up the ground tilled and untilled if they
gave Iiln liis life,' answered Iibun with a yell of ferocious irony,
and telling him'he should have ground enough,' plunged their
bayonets into his heart! An awful spectacle was presented on
the trial of the wretched men who were convicted of the assassination. At one extremity of the bar there stood a boy, with a
blooming face and with down on his cheek, and at the other
an old man in the close of life, with wild haggard look, a deeply furrowed countenance, and a head covered with hoary and
dishevelled hair. In describing the frightful scene it is consoling to find that you share with me in the unqualified dete~tation which I have expressed; and, indeed, I ain convinlced
that it is unnecessary to address to you any observation on the
subject.
"But, my good friends, I must call your attention to another
trial. I mean that of the Hogans, which affords a melancholy




THE BURNING OF THE SHEAS.             125
lesson. That trial was connected with the insane practice
which exists among you,'of avenging the accidental affronts
offered to individuals, by enlisting whole clans in the quarrel,
and waging an actual war, which is carried on by sanguinary
battles. I am very far friom saying that the deaths which occur
in these barbarous feuds are to be compared with the guilt of
preconcerted assassination, but that they are accompanied with
deep criminality there can be no question: the system, too,
which produces them, is as much marked with absurdity as it
is deserving of condemnation. In this county, if a man chances
to receive a blow, instead of going to a magistrate to swear
informationls, he lodges a complaint with his clan, which enters
into a compact to avenge the insult-a reaction is produced,
and an equally extensive confederacy is formed on the other
side. All tllis results from an inldisposition to resort to the law
for protection; for among you it is a point of honor to avoid
magistrates, and to reject all the legitimate means provided for
your redress. The battle fought between the Hickeys and the
Hogans, in which not less tllan five hundred men were engaged,
presents in a strong light the consequences of this most strange
and preposterous system. Some of tile Iickey party were
slain in the field, anud four of the ITogans were tried for their
murder:-they were found guilty of manslaugllter —three of
them are married and have families, and from their wives and
children are condemned to separate forever. In my mind,
these unhappy men have been doomed to a fate still more disastrous than those who have perished on the scaffold. In the
calazity which has befallen Matthew Hol(gan every man in
court felt a sympathy. With the exception of his.having made
himself a party in the cause of his clan, lie had always conducted himself with propriety. His landlord felt for him not
only an interest, but a stronlg r~,gard, and exerted himself to
the utmost in his behalf. He never took a part in deeds of
noctlrnal villany. lie does not bear the dagger and the torch;
honest, inllustrious, and of a mild and kindly nature, he enjoyed the good will of every man who was acquainted with
him. His circumstances in tihe world were not only comparatively good, but wlhentaken in reference to his condition in
society, were almost opulent; and he rather resembled anl
English yeoman than an Irish peasant. His appearance at the
bar was in a high degree moving and impressive-tall, atlilet.




126                RE~M.R' ABLE TRIALS.
ic, and eveil noble in his statlure, with a face finely forlned, and
wholly0 fr ee fiom any ferocity of expressilon, he attracted every
eye. ald excited, even ainong his prosecutors, a feeling of colnlmise-,ation.:  Ie formed  a remarklable  contrast with  the
ordinlary class of culprits who are alraigned inour public tribunals.  So far fiolln having guilt and depravity stamped with
want up<)n hilm, the prevailiing character of his c(;)untenance
was indication of gentleness and humanity. This man was
convicted of manslaiugllte r; and when he hheard thle sentence of
transportation for life, all c;;lr- fled fronm his cheek, llis lips became dry and ashy, his hand shook, and his eyes were the more
painful to look at firom their being incaplble of tears.  Most
of you consider: transportation a lighllt evil, and so it is, to
those who have no ties to fasten thetm to their country.  I can
well imagine that a deportation fromn tlis island, which for most
of its iniilabitants is a miserable one, is to many a change greatly for thle better.  Although it is to a certain extent, painful to
be torn from tlie p'ace with whllich our first recollections are
associated, and the Irish people have stronlg local attachlments,
and are fond of the place of tlheir birlh, and of their fathers'
graves-yet tle fine sky, the genial climate, and the dekep and
abundant soil of Nlqew IHolland, afford many compensations.
But there can be none for M'atthew  Hogoan:-I He is inl the
prime of life, was a prosperous farmer:-lle has a young and
amiable.wife, who has borne him clildren; but, alas!
"' Nor wife, nor children, more shall behold,
Ncr friends, nor sacred home."
Hie must leave Iris country forever-hlle must part from  all that
bhe loves, and fiom all by whom  he is beloved,: and his. leart
will burst in thle separation.  On Monday next he will see his
family for the last timne.  What.a victim do you bellold, in that
unfortunate man,. of the spirit of turbulence which rages ainong
you! Matthew Hogan will feel his misfortune withl mor'e deep
intensity, because ihe is naturally a sensitive and susceptible
man. I-e was proved to have saved the litfe of one of his altagonists in the very hottest fury of the comlbat, fromn motives
of generous, commiseration.  One of his own:kindred, in
speaking to me of his fate, sail,'lle would feel it: the mnore becatse' (to use the poor man's vernlcular. pronunciation)'he
was so tiendier.' This unhappy sensibility will produce a more
painful laceration of the heart than others would experienice,




THE BURNING OF THE SHEAS                   127
wlhen lhe bids hIis infants and tlleir mother farewell forever.
The prison of this tovwn will present on Monlday next a very
affecting, spectacle.  Before he ascelnds the vehicle which is to
convey himn for t'ansportationl to Cork, lie will be allowed to
tlake leave of hlis family.  His wife will cling with a breaking
hleatrt to hlis bosoltl; and while her arms are folded round liis
neck, while shle sobs in the agony of a:irtuous anlguish on lis
-br:east, llis children, whlo used to.cliimb. -his knees: in playfiul
emulatIion f)r his caresses, his little orphans, for they are
dooined to orplhanage in their filther'ls lifetime --—: I will not
go on with this distressing picture: your own emotions (for
there are m~any fathers and husbands here) will complete it.
But tlle sufferings of poor Ho-,an will not end at the threshold
of his prison:-lle will be conwxeyed in a vessel, freighted with
affliction, across tlle ocean, and will be set on the lonely and
distallt land, from wlhicli he will return no more.  Others, who
will ]lave accompanied him, will soon forget their country, and
devote tlhemselves to those useful and active pursuits for which
thle colony aff:,rds a field, and which wil'l render them happier,
by making themn better men.  1BaIt the thoug.hts of home Will
still press ip(,n the mind of Matthew Hogan, and adhere withi
a deadly tenacity to his heart. IH will mope about, in the
vacant heedlessness of deep and settled sorrow; lie will have
no incenltive to exertion, for lie will lhave bidden farewell to
hope.  The inst-rumients of labor will hang idly in his hands;
lie will go through l,is task without a conscionusness of whalt he
s doing:  or if lie thinks at all while lie turns up the earth, he
will tliink of tlhe little garden beside his native cottage, whliclh
it was more a delight than a toil to till. Thus his day will go by,
and at its close his only consolation will be to stand on the
seasho(re, antd fixing hlis eyes in that direction in which he will
have been taught that his country lies —if not in the language,
lie will at least exclaitn in the sentiments which have beel so
simply and so pathetically expressed in the Song of Exile:
"' Erin, my country' though sad and forsaken,
In dreams I revisit thy sea-beaten shore;
But alas! in a far foreign land I awaken,
And sigh for the frieads- that can meet me no more? ~




128               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.
SKETCH OF THE EVENTFtTL LIFE AND CAREER OF THE MURDERED
WOMAN.-HER INTRIGUES IN PORTLAND, BOSTON, NEW-YORK AND
OTHER' PLACES.- CAPTIVATING  POWEVIS  OF THE BEAUTIFUL
CYPRIAN. —HER MEETING WITH RICHARD P. ROBINSON. —aCCOUNT
OF THEIR MUTUAL CAREER.-THE MURDER. —TRIAL OF ROBINSON.-FULL REPORT OF THE EVIDENCE.-PUBLIC EXCITEMENT.ACQUITTAL, &C.
Probably no case has ever been tried in this country which caused
more excitement at the time than that of Richard P. Robinson, for
the murder of the beautiful, yet erring, Ilelen Jewett. The circumstances surrounding this brutal assassination were of the mobt romantic character, while the parties mixed up jn the affair represented many of the most wealthy and respectable famiiiks of the
metropolis, some of whom are living at the present day.
The beautiful unfortunate whose life paid the forfeit of her erring
existence; was widely known throughout the country. Her intrigu,.s
and elegant person were the theme of many a tongue. Her ilame
was whispered among the fast and fashionable society of the country.  In the ball-room, the promenade, the bar-rooms, and all the
public resorts of Boston, Portland, New-York and other places
where her star shone out for the time being, she was criticised
and talked of by thousands.. The proper name of Helen Jewett was Dorcas Dyon. She was
born in Augusta, in the State of Maine, in the month of June, 1813.
Her parents were Welsh, having emigrated to the United states a
short time prior to the birth of their daughter. They were humrble
people, the father being a mechanic, and the mother, in order to
help the family along. tookin sewing.'he first love of I Felen Jewett
(as we shall call her) was said to be a lad named Sumner, when
the girl was only eleven years of age. Her parents becoming aware
of the unholy intimacy, Sumner bad to fly the country,.and took to
a sea-faring life. This first intrigue of flelen was, however, kept
secret from all, with the exception of the two families of the boy
and girl.
Alnong the playmates of Helen Jewett were the children ok




TIlE MURDEI UF HELEN JEWFTT               129
Judge Weston, a wealthy resident of the neighborhood. In consequence of this connection Helen became acquainted with the Judge,
who at once took a great liking to the vivacious and beautitul child,
and adopted her into his family. She was sent to school and received a liberal education, becoming as accomplished as she was
handsome. During the years which passed under the roof of Judge
Weston, [Ielen's conduct was most exemplary. She was now sixteen, and a more beautiful girl could scarcely be conceived. Her
form was graceful and voluptuous, her eyes flashing with arlent
fire, while her movements bespoke the well-bred lady. Walking
one evening through the groves which surrounded the palatial residence of Judge Weston, she was suddenly confronted by Sumner,
who had returned from a voyage to China  From that moueunt her
fate was sealed-she was lost irrevocably. Meetings frequently
took place between the parties, until at last the details of her shame
reached the astonished ear of her good patron. She was cast into
the world unfriended and alone (her parents having previously uied,
and Sumner called off suddenly to rejoin his vessel).
Helen now turned her-steps to Portland, with the intention of
seekingemployment. Here she was engaged by a Mrs. Brown,
who told her that she desired to employ her for the purpose of
sewing for the family. But instead of being engaged tbr this
laudabli employment, Helen was ushered into a brothel, and again
fell.  Here she became acquainted with a gentleman of means,
who took her out of the brothel after bt t a few days' stay, and hired.
for her accommodation a maignifivent residence. She reigned the
Queen of this establishment for several months, when one bay in
looking over the papers she saw an account of the arrival of Sumner
from sea. She wrote to him, asking hinm to call and see her that
evening. He did so. Benson (the gentleman to whose generosity
Helen owed her sumptuous living,' and who actually had made
arrangements to marry her), discovered the pair in each other's arms.
A separation took place, and Helen next wended her way to Boston.
A short time previous to her departure from Portland, however,
Sumner, her first love, died of consumption, a disease contracted
from the perilous duties of his profession. The girl felt this blow
keenly, and to the day of her death remembered Sumner with
thoughts of the deepest affection.
On arriving in Boston, she wandered through the streets until
she fell fainting in the public thoroughfare, and was picked up by
some negroes and brought to their shanty.  It happened that
those negroes were a band of thieves, and the poor girl was robbed
of everything she possessed. A descent was made upon the house
and the whole party brought up in the police court. Here a
wealthy gentleman of the city being present in court, took compassion on Helen, and brought her to his residence, where she was
nursed until her health was entirely restored.  In Boston-the fair
one became entangled in numerous intrigues.  Among others she
engaged the affections of a wealthy broker, who had completed
all arrangements for the nuptial ceremony, when an anonymous
9




130               REMARIABLE TRIALS.
letter conveyed to the astonished gentleman the previous career of
Helen.
The girl next steered her course for New York, and arrived in
the Empire city in the middle of winter, 1832. IHer career in New
York was as checquered and extraordinary as in any other of the
large cities, where she had reigned with so much lustre as the
" Queen of the Pave."  She entered several of the " most fashionable". houses of disrepute in the city, walked Broadway in the
afternoons, shone resplendent nightly at the theatres, when " Helen
Jewett" became the chief topic of conversation at the Club rooms
of the fast young men, and throughout the city generally where such
topics were received and canvassed.
It wag while residing at one of those dens of infamy, that Helen
Jewett became acquainted with Richard P. Robinson. This
young man was born in Connecticut of a highly respectable family.
_lIe possessed a handsome exterior, pleasing manners and very
passionate disposition. At the age of fourteen he came to New
York in search of fame and fortune,'when he was employed in a
dry-goods store by a relative. Even at this early age he plunged
into all the licentious excesses of a gay metropolis.  Quarrelling
with-his first employer, he was taken into the establishment of
Mr. Joseph Hoxie, No. 100 Maiden Lane, where he remained up
to the date of his arrest for the horrible crime with which he was
charged.  At the houses of ill-repute and throughout metropolitan society generally, he was known by the name of "Frank
Rivers."
The first, time that Robinson and Helen Jewett met was while
both -were perambulating.roadway.  The handsome youth and
the dashing female exchanged glances and passed on. They next
met at thePark Theatre and after this Robinson became a regulir
visitor'at the residence of his fair innamorata. Helen loved with
a fiery passion the handsome Robinson, while he, for a time, retuned the burning ardor of her attachment. But he soon tired of
her company and sought that of other women.  Maddening jealousy seized upon Helen, and she followed him to his haunts, upbraiding him for his desertion of her. A rumor had reached her that
Robinson was paying his addresses to a relative of his employers
with a view to matrimony. She wrote a letter, threatening to ex-,pose him and hinting at a knowledge which she had of some dangerous crimes committed by Robinson.  Then it is stated, the
resolution was formed to murder the poor girl,
Much has been said and written as to the guilt or innocence of
Robinson, who was acquitted when brought up for trial. It is not
for us, as compilers of this volume, to say whether or not Richard
P. Robinson murdered in cold blood Helen Jewett.  Public opinon was divided upon the question at the time.  We will say,
however, that the majority of those who lived at that date and
who were most intimate with the details, asserted positively that
Richard P. Robinson was the villain who took away the life of
H1elen Jewett.
On the night of the murder-the 10th of April, 1836-Helen




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.               131
resided at the house of Mrs. Rosina Townsend, No. 41 Thomas St.,
We will detail the murder, as related by one of the chroniclers of
that period, who laid the deed at the door of Robinson.
A biography of Helen Jewett and Richard P. Robinson, was
written at the time, from which we extract the following account
of the murder. We commence the extract from where Robinson
arrived at the door of the house in Thomas Street.
"Twice he impatiently rang the bell, and at the second summons
came the landlady to the door. The cautious Rosina, however, did
not open the door, merely because there was a. summonls of impatience on the outside. That was not her mode of doing business,
and she was the wore careful of her rule on this occasion, as her
furniture and conscience had recently suffered from the irruption of
some riotous characters, whom one of her girls had incautiously let
in. Moreover Helen hal cautioned her nbt to let in Bill Easy, if he
came, as she had discarded him altogether, and as she expected
Robinson himself. Mrs. Townsend, therefore, under this combination' of restrictive influences, inquired through the pannel who was
there, and being answeredt hat the visitor was for Helen, and recognizing the voice to be ot e(r  hian Bill Easy's, she let the comer in.
It was then that she recot!nlz;:d the person in the cloak to be Richard P. Robinson, and ttlling him to wait a moment, went to the
parlor door to inform Helen that her lover had come.
"Robinson answered not a word in reply to the landlady, but
pulled his hat over his eyes to hide hbis face from the light, and
drawing up his cloak for the S ime purpose, hurried throhgh the entry
to the stairs. As he passed the parlor door, he turned upon his heel
for a moment, as if he would wait for Helen to come out. WThile
he paused, and while Mrs. Townsend's liead was in the front room,
Emma French and Maria Stevens glided by him, and the latter
whispered in his ears,'Some one has been before you, Frank.
Helen has just come down stairs.' Robinson did not raise his head,
or give othler token that be heard the words, and as the speaker
glided off, he turned to go up stairs, by no means shaken, by his
information, from his original intentions. At this moment, Helen
issued from the parlor, arid catching him -by the cloak, exclaimed,
loud enough for Mrs. Townsend to hear,' Ah, my dear Frank, how
glad I am you have come.' Robinson made no reply, and they
both went up stairs together.
"The nature of the circumstances, and the terrible character of
the tragedy which transpired within that room, will not allow us to
pursue the same course in relation to it, which we have followed in
regard to the less importrant portions of our narrative. A  writer
who knows that at a certain time two persons met together to buy
and sell a horse (or to do any other special act), and that the horse
was bought and sold. and for a certain price, may, without violation
of any rule of propritty or credit, imagine for his readers, if such a
course will relieve the heaviness of his narrative, what the buyer
and seller probably said to each other, in the making of the bargain
Nothing is disturbed by such a course; the great fact is preserved
and the method, instead of condemning the matter as mere fiction,




132                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
Is ollv an enlargement of the ornament, not a whit more extravagert o0 out, ot place, tharv the use of those beautiful flowers which
r letorlc flings upon the severest task for the writer's tzUmporary
compensation and repose. With matters, however, of superior importance, and of times when every pulsation of circnmstances and
point of detail may be the pivot of a great conclusion, this license
must be dropped, and the historian must content himself with such
rigid data, as the proven elements alone afford.
"It was between nine and ten o'clock on the night of the tenth
of April, 1836, when Richard P. Robinson and Helen Jewett retired
to their chamber at the house No. 41 Thomas street. For an hour,
neither of them issued from the room (except Helen, who once ran
down for a moment, to receive a pair of shoes), but at eleven Helen,
all languid and in her dishabille came to the head of the stairs and
called for a bottle of champagne. She proposed to wait and take
the salver of wine and glasses from Rosina at the head of the stairs,
probably at Robinson's desire to prevent Mrs. Townsend from coming in the room; but it so happened, that the demand for wine had
been very great at No. 41 ThQmas street, and that Mrs. T. was
obliged to descend into the cellar, This occasioned a loss of considerable time, during whiich Helen's patience gave out; so when
Mrs. Townsend went upstairs with the salver. she found she was
obliged to knock for admittance. lielen opened the door at her
summons, and as the mistress of the house handed in the tray, she
saw Robinson lying on the bed, with his head on his arm, and his
face turned to the wall. The. foot of the bed stood towards the
door, and being without curtains, and of tire low kind known as
French bedstead, it exposed the whole surface of the couch to any
person standing at the entrance of the room. Helen, perceiving
that the presence and position of her lover had been observed, asked
the landlady, in the way of courtesy, if she would not come in and
join her in a glass; but alas for her, the landlady refused, and when
the door closed upon her, this poor creature virtually bade good
night to the rest of the world forever. With the departure of Mrs.
Townsend, she looked her last upon a human face, save that of the
demon on the bed, if this might so le called.
Gradually all the inmates of that house of sinful luxury retired,
and with the rest, the beautiful Augustan, still as blooming to the
eye as when she left her home, sought the soft repose of sleep.
At one o'clock everything was hushed wilhin that palace of
passions.  At two, or perhaps a little  after, Maria Stevens,
who  laid  directly opposite' the room  of Helen, and  who
was kept wakeful by disturbances which to her were not
unusual, heard in the opposite chamb r the sound of a heavy
blow, which, though it did not resound, seemed to shudder in the
floor. It was followed by a long and heavy moan, so pitiful, that,
enemy. as she wasjto Helen, the event made disturbance at- Maria's
heart, and inspired her with a compassionate desire to know more.
After whispering silence to her companion, she got up out of bed,
and listened at the door; but nothing further followed, save two or
three broken sobs, which her strange experience told her might




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWFTT.               133
proceed from a very ordinary cause. Presently, as she was.about
returning to her couch, she heard the door of Helen's chamber
softly open and as softly close again, and in the next moment a person left it for the stairs. Turning the door-knob gently, she pulled
it suddenly open, and saw a person going down. He was wrapped
in a cloak, and bore in his hand a small glass-globe lamp, while
something which he held within his mantle seemed to engage the
other arm.  He was going swiftly but stealthily down.  Miss
Stevens would have followed, and was about stepping forth to do so,
when the person with whom she was resident that night, reached
forth his hand and caught her clothes, and with an exclamation at.
her folly, told her to clone her door and come to bed. Maria Stevens
then returned,'and hearing nothing further from the brunette's
chamber, soon fell asleep.
" At three -o'clock or thereabouts, there came a knock at the front
door which roused Mrx. Townsend, and she was obliged to let a
person in. Before retiring to bed again, however, she was a little
surprised at perceiving a lamp burning in the parlor in the rear.
Such a thing being unusual, she went to see about it, and there perceived upon a marble table, the glass lamp which belonged to
Helen Jewett's room. At the same moment Mrs. Townsend discovered that the back door was open, and the bar which fastened it
stood by its side. Supposing that some person was in the yard who
would soon return within the house, she returned to her own chamber, and waited some ten minutes, when hearing no one come in,
she went to the rear again, and having called"" who's there" twice
without avail, put up the bar -and went upstairs to IIelen's room.
She found it on the latch, but as she pushed it open, a dense volume
of offensive and stulpifying smoke rushing out drove her back. Retiring over to MimalgStevens' room, the terrified landlady beat against
her door, and roused theZhouse. First came out iMaria, and leading
the way she plunged into the burning chamber. Twice were she
and Mrs. Townsend driven back by the stifling torrents, but the
vent at length threw up the smoke into flame, and there before
their eves, with her transparent forehead half divided with a butcher's stroke, and her silver skin burnt to a cinder where it was not
laced with blood, lay all that was left of the mortal remains of the
unfortunate Dorcas Doyen."
Robinson was arrested nfext day and lodged in jail.  A coroner's
inquest, held upon'the body of deceased, laid the crime at the door
of Richard P. Robinson, and he was formally held for trial.
The utmost excitement prevailed throughout,the city, and the
press took sides for and against the alleged murderer.
THE TRIAL.
On June 2nd, 1836, the trial was commenced in the Court
of Oyer and Terminer, before Judge Edwards and Aldermein
Benson, Banks, Ingrallamn and Randall.




134              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
Messrs. Ogden Hoffman, Price and Ilugh Maxwell appeared
for the prisoner, and District Attorney Plienix for the prosecution.
The New fork Transcrpt of tha. uate, thus describes the
scene at the opening of the trial.
The doors of the large court room were thrown open at precisely ten o'clock, and immediately thereafter the immense
multitude which had collected in the avenues, passages and
round the city hall, (despite the extremely wet and boisterous
weather), rushed in and literally jammed every nook and
corner. Notwithstanding the dense and closely packed mass
of human beings that were congregated together, the arrangements for the free hnd uninterrupted ingress of the reporters,
witnesses, members of the bar, &c., were excellently plannedto the great credit of the police magistrates, and the active
and indefatigrable exertions of high sheriff Hays.
Soon after the judgres took their seats, the prisoner was
brougllt into court by _Mr. Lyons, the principal keeper of Bellevue prison, followed by his counsel-Messrs. Hoffnman, Price
and Maxwell-and a train of relatives and friends.  lie
walked to the place assigned to him  with a firm and steady
step, occasionally glaring round at the forest of heads around
hli ii with a calm, comlposed and even cheerful look. The inner
bar was thronged with members of the legal profession and
gentlemen connected with the press-publishers, pamphleteers,
editors and reporters: of the latter there were not less than
twenty-several of them  being from  distant and adjacent
cities and towns.
Th'le -Curt having been opened in the usual form by Mr.
B1edell, the crier, Mr. Maxwell arose in his seat and stated as
coulsel for the prisoner, that he was not aware that there
wats any circumstances which would prevent the trial being
imnncediatetly proceeded with as far as the defence was concerned, and:Mr. Plicenix (the district attorney), replied that
hle was ready to go on with the prosecution.
Previous to thoe panel of jurors being gone over (which
was done by HIenry Meigs, Esq., the clerk of the court, at the
request of Mr. Hoffman), the namles of the witnesses for the
prosecution were called over at the instance of the District
Attorney,t and there being but one, a MIr. Masterson, absent,




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.              185
the judges ordered the prisoner to be placed at the bar for
arraignment.
Mr. Meigs (the clerk), then said to the prisoner, "Ricbhard
P. Robinson, stand up and hold up your right hand."  The
prisoner rose as desired, and he listened to the arraignment
with an unquivering lip and an unhllanched cheek.  His appearance generally was much better, and more free friom embarrassment and anxiety than on the first occasion of his being
brought to court, and submitted to the keen and searching
gaze of perhaps three thousand strangers. ITe was dressed as
on his first arraignment in a new suit of blue, and for a cause
that will appear during the progress of the trial, ihe wore a
wig- curly and of light hair. Daring the empannelling of tile
jury-which occupied a considerable time-he stood up erect,
holding in his hands a blue cloth cap which he has been accustomed to wear-occasionally dangling it, as if heedlessly
about.
After considerable delay a jury was found, when the clerk
proceeded to  read  the indictment, charging the prisonier,
I-ichard P. Robinson with wilfull and deliberate murder of
IIelen Jewett, on the 10th of April, 1836.  The indict:nent
contained but one count, and during its reading the prisoner's
countenance underwent no change-not a feature'faltered —
not a muscle was agitated.
At this stage the court took a recess for half an hour, the
jury being placed in charge of eight police officers, who were
sworn in the usual fornl for that purpose: the jury were compelled to remain in custody of these oficers until the close of
the trial.
At the expiration of thi recess the court resumed its sitting,
but for some time the proceedings were suspended in consequence of the bustle and confusion that took place among:the
crowd —now increased to an overwhelling mass-each strenuously striving to obtain a standing or sitting place.
As soon as order was restored, the District Attorney opened
the case for the prosecution in a very irnpressive and elegant
address, in the course of which he detailed to them all the
facts that he intended subsequently to prove in evidence for
the prosecution, and upon which le relied for the conviction
of the prisoner at the bar. TIe dwelt briefly but emphatically
upon the enormity of the o fenae with which the prisoner,




130               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
stood charged-characterising the circumstances as the most
atrocious and diabolical that had ever been presented to a
jury in this or any other country-not only in reference to
the murder itself, but also in relation to the aggravated
crime of arson which was connected with it.  He said that
although the evidence against the prisoner was almost exclusively circumstantial, yet it was of so strong, clear and conclusive a character as to render the situation of the unfortunate
accused a most perilous and awful one.
At the conclusion of the learned gentleman's address, he
called upon the stand as the first witness for the prosecution,
Rosina Townsend, who, after being sworn, deposed as foliows:-I was acquainted with Helen Jewett.  The last timne
that I saw IIelen Jewett alive was on Saturday night, the 9th
of April last. It was about eleven o'clock in the niight, or it
might be about a quarter past eleven. I then knew the prlisoner at the bar. He was known to me by the name of " Frank
Rivers" and by no other name. Ilelen Jewett was a resident
and boarded in my house at the time.  She had been a resident and boarder in my house precisely three weeks on the 8th
of April last. I cannot exactly recollect the number of times
that I had seen the prisoner at my house before the 9th of
April; but as near as I can recollect I think I had seen him
there six or seven times. I was at one time called upon by
Helen Jewett to notice Frank Rivers (as he was called)
particularly. I did at that time notice him  particularly.
This was on the second or third night after Helen Jewett caine
to live with me. I saw the prisoner at the bar on the night
that IHelen Jewett was murdered. A person knocked at my
hall-door; I went to the door and asked who was there?  This
was about nine o'clock, or it might have been as late as halfpast nine. When I asked- who was there-the door was still
locked-I asked a second time the same question. The person
outside then either said is Helen Jewett or Miss Jewett (I cannot say which) within,-that he wanted to see her. Upon geting an answer to my second inquiry I then opened the door.
The reason I did not open the door to the first answer as well
as to the second was that I wished to ascertain who was the
person making the inquiry if possible by his voice. The reason
that I wished to ascertain this was that Miss Jewett had requested me in the course of the evening not to admit a certain young




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.            137
man who went by the name of Bill Easy to se her if he should
happen to come there. There was a young man who went by
the name of Bill Easy in the habit of visiting iellen Jewett at
my house. His particular nights for visiting her were on a
Saturday night; he had previously visited her on each Saturday night since she had been at my house. The reason that
Helen Jewett assigned to me for not wishing to see Bill Easy
on that night was that she then expected Frank Rivers to visit
her.
[At this stage of the proceedings a rush was made among the
crowd and one of the officers brought up a young man for contempt of court. Judge Edwards explained to him the penalty to
a breach of the peace and reprimanded him for his misconduct.
On condition however of his promising not to offend again in
like manner he was suffered to go his way unpunlished.]
The examination of the witness was then resumed:-When
I endeavored to ascertain' who was the person at the door from
his voice, I did not positively know that the person outside was
Frank Rivers, but I positively knew that it was not Bill Easy's
voice. I mean by Frank Rivers Mr. Robinson-the prisoner
at the bar.
When I opened the door, I discovered that it was Frank
Rivers or Mr. Robinson who was there.'Iie wore a dark cloth
cloak, but I cannot say exactly of what color it was. When I
opened the door he stood close against the casement by the
door post. There was a lamp light in the entry, and the light
of this when I first observed him stand against the casement
fell right upon his face. I am certain from this circumstance
that the person I have reference to was no other than the
prisoner at the bar. lie entered the hall, and as soon as he
entered he raised his cloak so as nearly to conceal his face.
IIe did not say a word when he came into the entry, nor did I
say anything to him. IIe went on before me towards the parlor door which stood at the end of the passage, and I followed
close behind him. Tile parlor door stood upon a jair; I went
and pushed it open: and called for  Helen.  Helen was then
sitting in the parlor nearly opposite the door. When I called
HIeIen I told her that Frank had come. When I told her this
he had turned the entry to go up stairs.  There are two stairs
in that house-which is a double house-one being on the left
and the other on the right of the entry-both leading to the




138              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
same platform or lan(ing. Frank went up the right stairs,
I-lelenl Jewett's room was in the second story, back room  at
the west side of the hlouse, the door of which is nearly op
posite the landing of the right stairs. Immediately on Frank's
going up stairs, IIelen Jewett catne out of the parlor and followed him up. When she came out -of the parlor she took
hold of Robinson's cloak, and said:-" my dear Frank, I am
glad you have come."  The stairs up which Robinson went,
turned about half way up to the second story, and he had
reached the first landing when she caught hold of his cloak.
Helen remained up stairs a considerable tine, and the next
time that I saw her was about eleven o'clock, as near as I can
recollect. In the interim she, I believe, came down stairs once
to. receive a boot which a shoe-maker brought home for herit having been sent to him to repair. She came down into the
hall. but I did not see her. About eleven o'clock,. Helen came
to the head of the stairs, being then in her niglit dress, and
asked me to get for her a bottle of champagne. She said that
if I would hland it to her she would not trouble me to carry it
up stairs. I went to the cupboard where I generally kept my
wine, but I found that there was none there, and having to go
into the cellar for solne, I told Ielen that as she was in her night
gown she had bettei not wait-that I could take it up; I did
shortly afterwards take it up together with two wine glasseschampagne glasses.  When I took it up Helen opened the
door of the bed-room, and asked me to walk in and take a
glass of wine; I took the wine and glasses up stairs on a waiter.
I declined to go into the room and did not go in, but the door
was opened sufficiently wide for the admission of the tray or
waiter, so that I could see whlio was in the room and nearly
everything in it; I stood illmediately before the door, and
the door opened inside towards the wall; I could see who
was on the bed in the room; it was a French bed stead, and
there were no curtains round it. Tihere was a person then lying upon the bed; that person was Robinson; I am perfectly
sure of this. HIe was lying on the bed with his head upon hiselbow inclining a little to the left.  The bed was by the side
of the wall, imnmediately opposite the door at which I stood
and against which the door opened. The foot of the bed faced
the door and was about five feet from the door, and fromn the
place where I stood; I distinctly saw the side face of the per.




THE MURDER OF HIELEN JEWETT.              139
son who was on the oea, and I cannot be mist.aken that tl.e'
person I noticed there with his head resting on his elbow was
the prisoner at the bar.  Ite had in hlis other hand a paper
or a book which he was reading, I cannot tell which —sonlething, of the kind. There was a candle in the roomn which I
think when I was up there, stood on one of the pillows or a
little table which stood by the head of the bed,-I cannot tell
which. After this I immediately went down stairs. That waS
the last that I saw of the prisoner at the bat on that nigllt. Ati
the time that I saw the prisoner lying ul.oll thle bed in thle wlay
I describe, I saw something about lhis head whlicll peculiarly
struck my attention. Iis lhair was extremnely thin on the back
part of his head where it was parted; it was on the upper
part of his head directly at the back; I never have had an
opportunity to observe that fact since that tinle.
I have mentioned the circumsta,,ce once or twice since; I
believe once to Mrs. Gallagher and onlce to Mr,., BLrink.  I cannot recollect when it was that I mentibned this, but I tlink it
was on tlle nineteenth of April, when my furniture was sold.
When I told it'to Mr. Brink, I asked himl if Robinson's hair
did not bear such an appearance as I have described.  On the
night that I-elen Jewett was murdered I retired to bed about a
quarter past twelve o'clock.  I had a clock in mly house Which
stood in my bed-room on the mantel-piece. I loolked at the
clock on that night before I retired. Twelve o'clock was my
usualhour for shutting ulp the house. I hlad made tlhat nmy
rule, but on that nigllt it was quarter past twelve.  Mily bedroom was the front room on the first floor, on the riglht hand
side of the hall as you enter the house. That is on the oppo.
site of the entry directly fronting' my bed roomn. After I
got to bed and got asleep I was partially awok;e by somlle person knocking at my door, but I did not awake stfficienltly to
know at what time tlis was. I don't know  lhow long I had
been asleep. The person who knocked at the door asked me
to let him out, and I answered him in thllis way-" Get your
woman."  I remained in bed. After I so r mained and llad
given the answer I have stated, I went to sleep.  Abolt tlhree
o'clock, I think, I was awoke again liy somle person klnocking
at the street door. I cannot tell how long it was between the
knocking tllat I lheard at the street door and the lknocking at
my door, as I went to sleep in the intervening time. I let the




140              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
person in who came -at three o'c!ock, I know that person; I
had a light in my room by which I let that person in; after
letting that person in, I discovered a light in my parlor; that
was an unusual occurrence in my house at such a time of the
night; the parlor that I speak of runs across in the entry the
fiull width of the house in tlie rear; on discovering the light it
induced me to go into the parlor, and on going there I found al
lamp lying burning on thle marble table; it was a small glassglobe lamp, with a square bottom; I had but two lamps of
that description in the house: those two lamps were generally
used one in the room of Maria Stevens, and the other in the
room of Helen Jewett; Maria Stevens' room was immediately
adjoining that of Helen Jewett; those lamps were not used in
any otiler rooms; when I went into the parlor and discovered
the lamp of which I have spoken, I found that the back door
was open; the back door was ordinarily fastened with a bar,
so that any person inside the house could open it without difficulty and without a key; when I discovered this I went into
my room and staid there five or ten minutes-perhaps morepartly in a doze; at the end of this time I recollected that I
had not heard any person come in, and I went a second time
into the parlor, and opened the back door a little wider than
it was, and called out "who's there a" I so called out twice,
and receiving no answer, I put the bar up, and secured the door;
I then went up stairs and came to Mtar a Stevens' door first. I
tried it, and found it fast. I then went to Helen's door, tried it,
and found it on the latch; I shoved it, opened it, and smoke
ruslhed ont in torrents.  I then ran to Miss Caroline Stewart's
roon, which was directly opposite Helen Jewett's, knocked at
tile dloo, told her Helen's ioom was on fire, and begged her to
get lip. By knocking at Miss Stewart's door I alarmned the
whole hlouse; I cannot exactly say who came out of their room
first, but it appeared to me that all the girls came on to the platform at one time. Miss Stevens and myself attempted to get into
the room to get to Helen Jewett's bed, but at first we were not
enabled to do so.: Miss Stevens first reached the bed; the bed
was on fire; we found the bed-clothes all consumed; they
seemed to be all burnt without blazing. I don't know whether
I then called the watch or whether somebody else called
thern; three watchmen came in first, and I think aftervards
four others. One side of -Ielen Jewett's body was blurnlt;




THE -MURDER OF HELFN JEWETT.          141
when I first saw her she was lying nearly on her back, with
her left side very much burnt, and a large gash on the side of
her head; I don't recollect that either Miss Stevens or myself
saw the body until the.watchmen came.  When Miss Stevens
first got to the bed, she brought some of the ashes of the burnt
clothes, and remarked that they Innst all be burnt up.
[The witness here asked for a glass of water, which was given
to her, after which the same glass with some water was handed
to one of the jurors. and he declined drinking fromn it, and
asked the officer for another glass, which was given to him.]
Examination resumed: —When I saw Helen Jewett after
giving the alarm she was quite dead; I don't know that during
the time Helen Jeweti lived at my house that she had a quarrel
with any person living there. nor that there was any disputo
or ill-feeling between her and any person that visited there or
any person or persons.
Crcss examined by Mr. Maxwell:-  I am 39 years of age;
I am.. married woman; mny husband is not, that I know of,
dead; it is eeven years since I heard of him. I was married at
Cas-,,etcn, N' Y. I was never in New York before my marriage:
I c'ame to New York in 1825; previous to that time my husband seft me ax Cincinnati, Ohio, and went away with another
woman; I came aftei that to New York; I never, at any time.
lived at the. South; I never lived at Charleston or Savtlnaah;
my parents lived at Castleton when I was married; after my
husband left I wMen' to my father's house, and remained there
three or four weekswhen I came to New York; I came to New'York in September 1825, and went to'live in Duane St.; then
I-tcok in sewing and continued to do so until December, when
my head became so affected that my sight was injured, and I
applied to Di David L. Rogers, who operated upon me and
inserted an issue in my arm; after I recovered I went to live as
a chambermaid at the house of'Mr Beekman in Greenwich
Street. I remained there but a few weeks and then went -to live
at a house kept by a woman named Maria Piercy; this lwas a
house ot assignation I remained there I think until April, 1826,
an'l since then up to the present time, I have either been a
boarder at or the keeper of a house of' prostitution. Helen
Jewett once lived with me before she came to me at the house
No. 41 Thomas St. in March last; I think'it was in 1833; I don't
remember that I had a quarrel with her at that time or with




142               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
any otlher person in relation to her. I think it there ever haa
been anry difficulty or quarrel between us I should now recollect
it. I know a person who is called English Charley. I never
had a quarrel with him in reference to his visiting -elen Jewett
at mv house. I never had any suspicions of his visiting her.
The six or seventimes that I have spoken of as having seen
Rcbinson at my house dluring the three weeks that IHelen Jewett
was there occurred the last time that she lived at my house
prior to the 9th of April; he generally came in the night time,
butt once he came on a Saturday afternoon; lle was there on the
Thursday night before the Saturday when Helen was murdered. He was once in my room  in company with Helen
Jewett and three Southern gentlemen. RTObinson was known
generally as Frank Rivers at my hoiuse, and was so known by
many persons who caine there. There were two visitors at my.ouse who called themselves Frank Rivers, the prisoner at the
bar being one of them.
[On the witness stating this, there was very great confusion
in the Court, hissing and clapping of hands, evidently froml the
friends and partizans of the unfortunate prisoner. The court
directed the officers to bring all persons to the bar wlo acted
so indecorously, and this order prodluced immediate silence.]
Examiination resulred -On the occasion when I was called
by' Helen Jewett to take particular notice of Frank Rivers
(Robinson) she wished me to look at him  and say whlether
he or Pill Easy was thle handsomest. I amn not positive that
the person who spoke to me from outside the door on the night
cf tile ninth of April, on my first answering the knock, Was
Robinson, nor was I very positive that it was his voice when I
received the second answer —but I knew that it was not fill
Easy's voice. B ill Easy is a little taller in person' than %Robinson. I do not reco(llect that I have given any different statement. I don't know whethler or not I mentioned PBill Iaov's
name in my examination at tle police office. WVhen I first
saw Robinson he was standing by the casement at the door.
The lamp was near the stairway, in the entry, and my back
was towards it. I do not think that because I was between
Robinson and the lamp it would prevent me seeing lRobinson's
face, or prevent the light shining upon it whenl le came in. I
know that it could not so prevent my seeing him, and that it
did not, as the lamp (a globe lamp) hung very high frotn the




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.             143
%eiling, and when I opened the door I stepped a little aside.
The lamp was more than six feet in the entry-way from  the
door; Robinson, or Frank Rivers, as I then knew him, was in
the habit of lifting his cloak up to his face, as if to conceal it,
when he came to my house. I don't know what his object was,
and I never thoughllt anything particularly about it; his doing
so, therefore, on the ninth of April, did not excite my suspicion of anything. On that night (the night of the murder) when
he came in in the manner I have described, a girl named Emnma French, who lived at my house, was standing at the room
door in the passage-way. She, I' have no doubt, saw him as
plainly and as well as I did.'When she took hold of his cloak
and said to himn "My dear Frank, I am glad to,ee you," I was
in the entry near my room. Shortly after I admitted Mr.
Rivers (Robinson) and he had gone up stairs, I retired to my
sleeping rooni. That was about nine or half-past rine o'clock.
I was in and out of the room several times before hIelen Jewett
called for a bottle of chamnpagtle. It was about eleven o'clock
when the champagne was called for. In the interim. I had
been busy in admitting persons in and letting persons out of
my house. I admitted all the persons that came into the house
after Mr. Robinson c:tme in. No person was admitted on that
niglht after eight o'clock that 1 did not admit myl sell'; before
eight ('clock other persons attended thle.door, and some persons might have been in- tle house that I knew nothing of, and
whom I had never seen before. I liad not diank any wine or
liquor that night, nor was there any drank in my room. All
the liquor or wine that was lhad in my house that night beside
the clhampagne that IIelen hlad, was a bottle of champ:lgne in
the parlor, which I did not partake of. On the night of the
murder I h:ad a person in the room with me. I know him.
Ile came about eleven o'clock, and I let him in. IIe wals in my
roolm wthen Ilelel Jewett called for the champagne. I e was
not in b)ed the'n, nor was I, nor had I then been. IHe remained
in that r-om the whole night. There was but one bed in the
rooln. Ie was in the salme bed with me, and lie was awakened at the same time with me by the knocking at the door at
three o'clock~in the morning. I don't know that he asked who
the person was that knocked at the door. I don't think he
did. I know who the person vwas that ctne in at that hour. Robinsorn wore a cloth cap on the night of the murder. When I
saw Robinson in Helen Jewett's room, he was laid on his sto



144              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
mach, with the bed-clothes nearly up to the shoulders. I cannot say what it was that he was reading. I cannot say whlether
the candle was on the pillow or on the round table near the
head of the bed. He was laid on the front side of the bed. I
did not see his full face-only his side face. I do not think
that he changed his position in the bed while I remained at
the door. The singular appearance that I remarked on the
back of Robinson's head was, it was nearly or entirely bald,
and I noticed it because I thought I would mention it to Helen
on the following morning. I did not mention it to any person
on the following morning, nor, that I know of, at the police office. I did not do this because I was so much agitated by the
murder that I forgot many things that did not occur to me till
afterwards. There were six men in my house on the night
that the murder took place. I admitted the whole of them'af-'ter eight o'clock in the evening. I did not personally know
them all; I knew some of them. I had ten girls in my house
on that night. WlIen the alarm  was given, the gentlemen
who were in the house made their escape from the front door,
in which I had left the key when I let in the second party of
watchlnen who came. I think that Mr. Palmer was the, first
watchman who arrived at the house. I do not know that any
other watchmen came tliere before him. It was nmy wish.that
no person should leave thlle house until an examination into the
occurrence of the murder. I was so much agitated that I can
scarcely say what took place on the horlrible discovery of the
murder being made. I don't remember that when the watchmen first carime into the house tliere were two men in their
shirt-sleeves standing near my door. I don't know-, and never
heard, that the watchmen, on going up stairs, found a man
partially dressed, near the door of Helen Jewett's room. All
the men in the house made their escape from thence before the
coroner camne there to hold an inquest. In the course of a week
it is probable that from eighty to one hundred persons visited
the different girls at my house. The majority of the visitors at
my place are entire strangers to me. On some weeks I would
have considerably more visitors than others. From  my pecu!
liar situation of life I have of course been frequently subjected
to rude and brutal treatment from ruffians and others.
[Mnr. Maxwell here stried, that for the present he should suspend a further cross-examination of the witness, until a future




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.               1.45
period: and begged sle would remain in the vicinity of the
court to be ready to come in.when. called upo n. Previous,
however, to thee witness leaving the stand,'she -was examined
)y- oile of the iurors as follows.]
Juror-'Did you see the prisoner -at the coroner's-inquest, or
at the pl.olice office, and if you did; had he his hat, on whlen you
saw him 
-Witness.-I saw him when he was-brought tto my house, No.
41:Thlomas street, by-the officers, but he then had his hat on.
I don't remember whether he had his hat on or off. at the police
office.
Mr. Hoffman-'-Now don't you remember, madam, that when
you were before:the grand:; jury, you sat. near. Robinson, who
then had: his h-at -off, and- that: you had -then an opportunity of
seeing the remarkable place, as you call it upon his head 
Witness-  Now I recollect, I think that I did.
Mir. Ioffman —I thought so, madam.
lMr. eIoffmanD —lid you ever think before that:tiiie of mentioning anything in reference to the remarkable discovery of
yours?
Witness-Yes: I think that several days previous to that, I
mentioned it to Mir. Brink.
Mr. IIofftnan-I —Iave yoou. not, madam, seen an account of
Ro'binson wearihng;'  wig in a one 0of the papers, and did not this
fact-lead.to make the statenmentsto Mr, 3 Brinilk and Mrsr:.IGallagher, that you say] you have done.
Witness'-I saw: somrething i-n the'Transcript or Sun- -I forget which, but that did not lead me- t- mention the fact I.:ave
~related; I: had mentioned it befbre.
-[EThe:7witness after giving thais testimnony leftf the stand,; and
she'Was led- out of Court by, Mr. police:officer Welch,  It was
niearly half- asteight oigt'clock:vwhen her testimony was closed.]
ir~ Pa~'id }L..Rodgegs; was: tlen alledfor the prosecution, and
eixamnined by ri. Phen;ix.    t:emerelj deposed to  the examination olf'the bdy of Helen Jewetteafter, the murder, and pronoun:ced the woiinds oin her head to -be the cause'of death. He
said itile-princi.pal  wound fractured the skull, compressing the
bones upon the brain, and! that the body, bore every appearance
of its haiffA iiade.inO:movement after the fatal blow, and that
deathl consequointiy iiht: ha-ve been instantaneous.
[The hatch-et::fi:d in`the -rear of Mrs.,Townsend's was here
10




REM.ARKABLE TRIALS
slhown the witness, and lie said it was such a weapon ashe had
supposed had been used by thle murderer, and that he doubted
not that that it bad been the instrument of deatlh.]
Richard Eldridge, examined by Mr. Pllenix-I am a watchman. On Sunday morning the 10th of April, about four o'clock
I was in Thomas street, and went into the heuse of Mrs.
Townsend: I had some conversation with Mlrs. Townsend in relation to what had taken place there, and in consequence of
what she said to me, I went to search in the yard and about the
p)remises to see if I could find anything there; she said to mq
thiat when it was daylight, perhaps I might find something in
the yard which would lead to some discovery. In a yard next
to Mrm. Townsend's, belonging to a lot on I-Hudson street, I itunld
a ihatchet and a cloak (the hatchet was produced, and it was
the same that Doctor Rodgers testified to as having been likely
to )rodnce suclh wounds and gashes as were discovered on the
head of the deceased). The witness continued:-Tlhe cloak
was found in the yard adjoining Mrs. Townsend's house, about
two or three yards from the railing in the rear of the lots in
Hudson and Duane streets.
Cross-examined by Mr. Maxwell-I had some talk with Mrs.
Townsend before I went into the yard. I also had some talk
with Mr. Palmer, a watchman, I think it was one of the watchmnn who first made a proposition to go out into the yard. When
I got into the yard I took my own course in searching.  Mrs.
Townsend did not tell me where to go: I went towards the
south-west corner of the yard, and there I perceived sabout six
inches at the other side of the railing, the hatchet which has
been produced. The fence between Mrs. Townsend's yard
and the yard belonging to the house in Hudson street is about
Line feet high, and in some places twelve feet. The cloak was
about fifteen feet from the fence of Mrs. Townsend's yard in
the yard belonging to the lot in Hudson street, and about
half way across the yard between tile rear of a lot in Duane
street, and the rear of Mrs. Townsend's premises.  The cloak
could not have been dropped in the place where it was, found
by a person climbing over the fence, nor do 1 think a person
hould hlave thrown it so far firon Mrs. Townsend's yard. There
is no place for a person to get away that I know of friom the
garden in the. rear of the Duane street lot: when I first discovered the cloak I did not see that it had any string attached to




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.            147
it. I gave the cloak to some one belonging to Mr s. Townsend's
house, and saw it about two hours afterwards before the coroner's inquest. It was ther that my attention was drawn to a
stain in the' cloak. When I found the axe, I did not observe
that there was any blood upon it.  The. axe and cloak were
both deposited in a back room on the first floor of the lhouse
immediately under the room in which the body was lying(.
When I put theln into this room I locked the door and, I think,
I fastened the shutter so that nobody c)uld get to them.  It
was a stit all door that I locl;ed. The key was a common one;
I don't know that there were two doors to that room; I cannot see myself, how any person could have got away from thle
rear of -Mrs. Townsend's by way of Hudson street or Duane'
street, without getting through the halls of thle houses built
upon tlhe lots.
By Mr. Phenix-There w'ere a number of alleys both on
Duane and Thomas streets, Iby which a person- probably might
by climlbing over a number of fences escape from the rear of
Mrs. Townsend's house. Mrs. Iownsend was I believe the
only one whlo saw me lock up' the cloak and hatchet in the
room down stairs; I remained in the house until the coroner
held an inquest, after I lhad deposifed these articles in the
room, btut not in such a situation that I, could not see whether
any per.son went in there with another key. I cannot say in
what particillar way I' deposited these.articles.
By Mr. Morris, for the prosecution:-I had the hatchet in my
hand a second time at the coroner's inquest; it was handed to
me by the coroner or some one connected with him; he asked
me to examine it and say if it was the one I had found in the
yard; to thie best of my knowledge, I think I told him it was.
When lie asked me if I thought a spot he pointed out on it was
blood, I think I said I thought it was rust; I did not, until they
were pointed out to me at the coroner's inquest, observe either
the string on the hatchet or the string upon the cloak. Whilst
I and Mr. Palmer were looking about the yard, some of the
girls in the house camne out to us. When I first took up the axe
or hatchet it was wet and covered with dew or moisture, as if it
had lain there some time. In addition to ile wet on the hatchet,
there was some earth on the blade, and some on the handle.
By a Juror —I did not see the hatchet until I got within
about six inches of it, and after a good deal'of walking about.




148                REMARKAiBLE TRIALS.
ome of the girls were lookling out  in the yard at:the time I
found it.
By Mr. Morris —I think -it; was improbable, though not entirely i'mpossible, that the hatchet mght have'been:tlirown to
the place where-I t'ound it by some of the girls who were standing about the: yard.  I should be inclined to think, however, that
such a thing could have been done.- If it had, I think we: might
have been hurt.
[It being now near ten o'clock, Judge Edwards suggested to
his associate judges that the court be adjoourned untilten o'clock
next morning, and: it:was adjourned: accordingly until that hour,
the jury remaining in custody of th-e officers-who were- sworn to
attend them.]
SECOND DAY.
Scarcely ever:in the annals of'criminal prosecuti'ons, -in any
country on the globe, has there been witnessed such a scene- of
tumult and: confusion as took place at the opening of;the court
the next morning, on the trial being resumed. - As early as
seven o'clock in. the morning, regardless of the wet and stormy
weather, vast Crowds of persons began to assemble:in: the vicinity of'the City HIal, and at a little past eight: o'clock, when the
higl constable- arrived with his posse of officers, not less ithan
fromn five to six thousand persons were packed together in one
impenetralle and solid mass. -At the -hur appointed ifor the
opening of the court, so alarming was the confusion: and excitement-among the immense assemblage, that: before the judges
ventured to;take their seats, they sent a requisition: to the
shleriff, -ordering him'to require the attendance of hisa deputies,
together with thirty additional constables' and  ffiieers.. Until
tlie: arrival of this force, it was impossible to: obtain anything
like order -or tiranquility, and: even: then' the disorder -wlhiic  prevailed was truly friglltful and appalliniig: At length the: uproar
became so'violent, and of so aggravated a: character,'that: it was
at one timne apprehended that it would' be necessary to summon
the aid; of-the:imilitary, and the: mayor was sent for and advised
with:as'to-'the bbest -mode of action. During the period: occupied
by these- proceedmings, no attempt was made to proceed with the
trial of the. prisoner, and all business was suspended.::After a
brief'-consultataio:n bet~Veen' the; mayor, the police magistrates




THE MURDER OF HELEN. JEWETT.,14 9
and the judges of the court, it was determined to -:clear the
court-room  of -every person except those who were within
the bar, consisting- exclusively of gentlemen connected with
the pre-s, the -counsel- engaged in tne trial, and members of
the legal profession. With. great difficuity,-and only'with the
most strenuous exertions on the part of the polie:officers, marshals, constables and lsheriff's deputies-the object was ultimately accomplished*. By this timle it was past twelre o clock,
when thejury-entered their box, and the ludges took their seats.
Robinson took his position. in the same place that hle sat in on
Thursday, close to the jury box, and immediately behind himl
as on thle previous day, were his late employer, Mr. Joseph;IeHoxic,
the prisoner'sg venerable,:and respectable father from- Durham,
Conn, and also his brother-in-law, the husband of his eldest sister.
Previous to the trial being resumed, the Court gave d-irection to the several officers in attendance to readimit as many of
the persons outside as could conveniently take seats; and in an
instant almost a thousand persons were in. the court-room, the
-doors immediately being closed upon them to prevent a crowd
or riot.
The case for the prosecution was then resumed by Mr
Phenix calling upon the standWilliam Schuremian, who,:being sworn,, was, examined'by
Mr. Phenix, and deposed as tollows —I am the coroner for! the
City -and County -ofNew York. On the tenth of Apriltlast I
was called to the house No. 41. Thomas street-to the house:-of.
Mrs. Townsepd —to iold: an inq,!est upon the. body of a female
who had'been-.murdered: It.:w.as very. soon after daylight
when I was called to the house.  I was at the house: when a
cloak:;ws a.found,:in: on.e of the yards in~ the: rear.  Tlhat
cloak was handed.-:to   e in; tlie yard of..the house -in
Thomas street by a watchman who:found it: on. the,. other side
of the fepe,! in a-yard in the, rear of,!udson -:Street". -I -saw
him comningi over the -fe;nce with it,:- I was: nearly.,:in.:  th!e,, ear
of the yard when I:received it from. the watchman.. [The cloak
was here-produced, and thle; witness positively,,identified:it as
being the samrne  cloak which was.,found by.; tile watchman.]
Witness continaued.-Thlle string: now attached to the cloak,1was
attached to t whllen it was-found, and from,certaiin circumstances and colnversation which then took- place bet,!ecnl me and
some of the peraons in the:house, I was induced to notice it




1. 50            REMARKABLE TRIALS.
particularly. I saw the string attached to the cloak before it
was taken into  Irs. Townsend's house, and shortly after I re,
ceived it fiom the watchman. After I perceived the string I
gave the cloak into the hands of either one of the police offi.
cers or one of the watchmen-I cannot positively say which. 1
don t knlow what the person did with the cloak after I handed
it to him. I went on to empannel the jury. There was a
hlatchet also found in the rear of the house. [The hatchet was
here produced, and the witness idelltified it as being the same
one as found.] I think the hatchet was found shortly after the
clotak, lbut I am not certain of this. Whlen the hatchet was
handed to mle, I A,,kced at it, but did not discover anything at
that time very particular upon it. It was wet as if with dew;
a.. that timne   did not perceive a string upon- the hatchet-I
meani wheli it was handed to me in the yard. I did not observe the string upon the hatchet until it was brought to me a
second time before the jury  I think it was handed to me by
Miar Brink and lie ca.led my attention to it; then myself, in
collnpany with some of the jurors, compared the string upon
the cloak and the string upon the hatchet, and they were sini-:;lar ili all respects the string appeared to be new, and to have
been recently cut off.
By the Judge-It was about daylight when the cloak and
hatchet were first handed to me, and it was two or three hours
afterwards-between nine and half past nine-when I again
saw them, they were then shown before the jury who were on
the inquest. I won't be certain, but I think Mr. Brink brought
the hatchet and cloak before the jury-it was one of the officers, at all events.
Cross-examined by Mr. Maxwell-I do not know Mr. Eldridge the watchman, that 1 know of. I remember that there
was one person at the house by that name.. When I first arrived at M1rs. Townsend's house there were several officers and
watchmen t-here, but I cannot say how many. If Mr. Eldridge
is the man who took the axe up, he must be mistaken if he
says he had it in his possession half an hour before he handed
it to any one. I do not think that the person who found it had
it in his hand more than a minute before he gave it to me. I
did not notice any blood on the hatchet, but it had a reddish
appearance the same that it has now. I-gave particular direction, when I handed the hatchet and cloak to a person to keep




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.             151
until I empannelled a jury, to be sure to keep them  safe. I
gave this injunction more particularly in relation to the string
that was upon the cloak, as I understood from some of the pere,ons in thehouse that a person had been there who wole a
cloak. I did not then notice or know anything about the
string upon the hatchet, and my directions therefore had not
such particular reference to it. With the exception of the
string being more dirty now than it was at the inquest, it has
every appearance now that i L had then. I cannot say whether
it is any longer or shorter now than it was then. Neither the
cloak nor the hatchet were found, to the best of my belief,
until after I got to the house. I don't recollect that I made a
proposition to go and make a search in the yard. I think Mr.
Palmer first made the proposition,-and that he first went into
the yard-but I am, not certain. I do not recollect that I had
any conversation Mrs. Townsend on the subject of making a
search inl the yard.
By a Juror-When I first saw the string I cannot say
whether there was any appearance of its being damp. It did
not appear to be dirty or muddy. The morning was a dull
morning. It was after daylight when the hatchet was found,
and when it was handed to me. It strikes me that if the string
had been upon the hatchet when it was first found, it would
hiave attracted my attention, and I should have observed it.
Tlle string, however, might possibly have been there, and I
might not hIave seen it.
By the Judge-The string might have possibly been on the
hatchiet. My attention was drawn to the string on the cloak
before I saw the hatchet, and it is now, on reflection, my im.
pression that if the string hlad been on the hatchet when it was
found I should have noticed it in connection with the circumstance.
By Mr. Morris-My attention was called to the tassel of
the cloak, particularly before the cloak was examined, and iii
looking for the tassel I ftound the string; I was induced to
look for the tassel from somre conversation that I had with
some person in the house, respecting the tassel of a cloak.
By thle Judge-When I first saw the string of the cloak it
appeared to me to have been seveted with a jerk or broken
off, not cut. My impression at tile time was, that it was not
cut.




152                REMARKABLE TRIALS
By Mr. tHoffman-When: the cloak was found in the yard,
I wrapped it up and my attention was then:first ~ attracted to
the tassel.
By Mr Price-4Tt was my intention.to have -the'hatchet
and cloak deposited in:. some safe-.place; fron  the circumstance
of the hatchet having: beenfouna in the: yard, it was:my im~pression that the horrible murder was committed with it:; I
ordered them to be kep-t-:together," thinking that they might
be jointly identified; the- string notwithstanding this, might
have:then- been on the hatchet:::and- I not: notice it-;: it is possible that sonme of the.:persons to:whom I gave-the cloak,,.having
the string then attached to' it,: might;havei tried the- hatchet: -to:
the string, and.sulbsequently broken it off.
By Judge Edwards —On.examining. the string upon. the
cloak now, it appears to me shorter-than: it was when-I. first.
noticed it;; I. may. however, be. mistaken.; I am  now under
the impression that the string was longer than it is now; I had:
no impression. when I saw the string at the inquest, that it had
been altered,-.that"::it.:was either.shorter.or::longer than.it was,
when I first- saw it.in the yard.;.I am now more certain. that
the string- is shorter than when I first saw it; I did: not m'easure the string, nor was it:measured- at any.time that I knowof;, I don't. think that::tle::string was.as much longer: on the
cloak -as it would be with the addition -of. thle piece on the:
lhatchet; I think if it-had been as much; larger I should have
observed it, but I am not positive.
By Mr. Morris, for the prosecution —When I first saw the
string on.the. cloak,' I did not notice it so. very -.minutely as  to:
know its dimensions: atall,- and:until I- saw the string:on: -thehatchet.bef0ore the coroner's jury, I- did not attach-. mu.ch importance to it. When. I;speak.of.: my. imrpression about the
string being shorter now than it was before, I have reference
both to wh-en I first saw it. in.thie yard,.:and- to::when -it was
briought before the coroner's inquest.
George:W. Noble,. examined for the: prosecution:by:Mr.- M6rris-I amman assistant captain of the watch. I.Iremember! that
oln the mlorning of the tenth- of April infoirmation.vwas: brought
to me at the.i watchhouse: in the park that. ia. murder:. had been
ommnmitted; in:'T'homas istreet.::- 1 immedately:strted, off.. there,
having  with me three- or'four watchnmen."-;:i t:hi-nk Eldridge wai
in the company   We arrived at Mrs. Townsend's house be!ore




THE.MURDER OF.:HELEN.. JEWETT.          153
daylight, and before the hatchet and cloak were: found:. W, e
were in the house nearly an hour and a-half before -these articles were:.found. When they were found. I was in the -room
where Helen Jewett was laid. -..I.heard a noise'in the':yard, and
saw a man jump over the fence; and say " Here's-:the eloak now.'
I immediately went down:stairs,'and a number of. my men were
there.. They:said: to me," "We'vetfound a;cloak"."' W henhI:got
into;the.yard both the cloak and hatchet were found. I saw the
hatchet and' examined-it myself.'I examined it before it was'taken into: the, house with the cloak.: - I saW thliestrinF upon the
cloak'before, it  as taken ainto the. house.
[The'cloak, was:here produed, and: the! witness identified it
as the: same that he, then'saw. Hie also -identified' -the hatchet
which was: shown. to him.]j,
By a juror-I had both the hatchet-and; cloak in' myz hand.,
By Mr. Morris-I saw theistring on the hatchet as it is now
upon::it, in the yard, before it was taken into the: house, and directly after it -was found.:. I:: did not: compare the string -upon
the'hatchet and the, string nupon, the cloak, but. Mr.: Brink; the
officer, did in my presence.': He examined and compared'them,
and he concluded'as I did'that::they were);mboth alike,  The
hatchet: and' cloak werengiven in; charge'to one of my men, and
they-:were taken into one of:the back' rooms of the house, and
laid in a recess in the northwest corner of the room.: I: did not
observe th-e::hatchet in the rooml, -but I believe: it was wrapped
up in the cloak.  I:cannot:say whether th.e door of:the room
was locked.::There were. watchmen about the place all — the
time. I was at the house until past twelve: o'clock, and iun
til the coroner hield:an: -inquest upon' the body of the' murdered
female. I did: not stop in the-house all lthe time.' I —went- with
Mr. Brink:to Maiden Lane and Pearl;street in a carriage.,We
went'to those places to try to find outwho was the t:perpetrator
of the: deed.' "- I.was with,Mr. Brink at theirtime the arrest: of the
accused (Mr. Robinson): was made.:'We found:him  ini IDey
street,  between Broadway:-and:  Greenwich street.: iThis was
about seven o'clock:on nSunday2 morning.
Cross-ex-am-ined'by Mr.- Ma-xwelt  W-hen I goti to the. house
in Thoimas streetj:the. coroner was-: not th'ere. I was there  full
three'-quartersbf: a hour as, I-suppose; before he came: there';
we had not discovered —the: cloak -or hatchet; before the ~coroner
came.: I —was in; thel yard whenithe coroner received, the eloak




154               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
and hatchet; they were not both received by the coroner at the
same time, but not nmore than a moment intervener. The coroner was in the yard all the time that we were in the yard (myself and Brink); the coroner had the cloak and hatchet about
five minutes before he handed thein to be put away; I don't
know whether the coroner was standing close by Brink and me
when Brink made the comparison -between the string on the
cloak and the string on the hatchet; when he did make the
comparison, I considered it to be an important fact; Brink considered it to be an important fact. I did, not communicate it to
the coroner, nor did Brink that I know of  I heard the men
say " there's the cloak, we've found the cloak," or "there's a
cloak, we've found a cloak." I am not certain which. When I
was in Helen Jewett's room there were several persons round
there; none of the girls said anything to us about going to search
the yard; there were several of them in the house; it is possible that some persons might have gone into the room where the
cloak and hatchet were while Brink and I went out in the carriage to Maiden Lane; it is possible that some person might
have entered during that time, and got poslession for a time of
the cloak and hatchet; Brink and I found no difficulty in ascertaining where Robinson was; we found him at his boardinghouse. When we inquired for him we were shown up to his
bedroom, and we entered it.  Brink'told him that he wanted
him to get up and dress himself, and go to the police-office. He
did so without making any objection, merely inquiring what we
wanted him for; he accompanied us in the carriage to the
house in Thomas street.
By Mr. Mlorris:-We did not observe anything particular
in Robinson's clothes when he was dressing himself. We did
observe something particular however, when we got him to
the hlouse in Thomas street.  It was on the right side of the
right leg below the knee, and on the left side near the hip.
I took it to be limle, but that it was lime I cannot positively
say, as I did not taste or smell it. Wihte we went up to Robinson's bedroom, there was a young man with himn.  It was that
gentleman who got up and opened the door.  Robinson was
then asleep, and he (his bedroom  companion), shook lim to
awake llim. They slept in the same bed together, Robinson
in the front and his companion at the back.
By the Judge —I did not observe whether Robinson's eyes




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT,            155
were closed or not. He jumped up very quick after we got
in. The girl who showed ius up stairs knocked at the door.
I cannot say how loud she knocked atl the door.  Whlen lie
jumped out of bed, we merely told him tlat we wanted to see
him. and he instantly dressed himself.  It was in the entry
that lie asked us what we wanted with him, and that Briilnk
told him that lihe wanted himl at the police office.
By.Mr. Morris —After the young man opened the door,
Brink and I went directly into the rooln.  Thle young ma-1
got over Robinson when he jumped into bed again. After we
got into the room I could not swear whether Robinson was
awake or asleep. The young mmin touched him and shock him
and lie immediately got up. The young man drlessed himself
shortly a'ter Robinson did, and accomnpanied us to Tlbmnas
street in the carriage.  As Robnson was going out of the
room with us, the young man said to hin, " Do you want me
to go with you?' and Robinson replied:-" You may go if
you've a mind to." IHe was then in bed, and he jumped up,
dressed himself and accompanied us. When Mr. Brink and I
brought Robinson oat of his room, sorrething was said to hlim
in the entry about a cloak. We were in the hall nearer the
front door than the room door, when the cloak was mentioned.
Only Bfink, Robinson and myself were then present.  Mr.
Brink asked himn if he ever wore a blue cloth cloak, or if lhe
was the owner of a blue cloth cloak-I fo:get which, but I
think it was if he ever wore a blue cloth cloak. lHe said no;
but he said le had an old camblet cloak that hung tip in the
bedroom.  Brink and lie talked about clocks tthree or four
times over; —they were talking about cloaks 3 or 4 minutes.
The fence round Mrs. Townsend's yard in the rear wa- of board
and rather hiah than otherwise. The rear fence is nine or tell
feet high, and the fence at the south west corner is full as higlh.
The fence all round the yard is whitewashed. There is a stable
adjoining the fence on the west side, and pickets are put nip on
the fence on that side. A person in getting over that fence
into the yard would I think necessarily whiten his trowsers;
but it would of course depend upon.the manner he got over.
By Mr. Maxwell, for thie prisoner-While the c nversation
took place between Brink and Robinson in the entry, the young
man who slept in the same room with him, was dressing hlillhimself. The bed roora door was only partially open, and I




156               REMARKABLE: TRIALS
don tirnow whether or not, the young man could hear what
was said with Robinson about the: cloak.  The conversation
was not in a low-tone. I distinctly remember now, that. obinson positively denied that he was ever the owner of a blue
cloth cloak.. I cannot be;mistaken in this.
Denis Brink, police officer, Lexamined by Mr. Phenix for,
the prosecution -I was at the lhouse of Mrs. Townsend,. in.
Thomas street, on the mnorning of.the tenth of April.: I am
one of the police officers of this.city. I went to Mrs. Town'
send's:house about.half past ifour on- the morninyg of,.the,
tenth of April.:It was before daylight. 1 was there wllien the
cloak and hatchet were found, Mry first.informatioQn and knowledge of the findinig of the cloak and hatdhet was after daylight.
The coroner was in the yard:wen they were found. M r.. El
dridge, the watchman,. handed: the cloak and hatchet to: the
coroner.  I had both the cloak and hatchet in-my. hand before
thley were taken in;to'the;house.,[Tllecloak and. hatchet were.
here shown to- and identified by the witness.]  I know  the
cloak fromn the tassel particularly.  The: lstring thatt now, appears upon this cloak was in the:yard before, it was taken:into:
the house.- It  as fas tened to.the end of the cloak..  I- lad
tlhe hatchlet in my- hand befbre it went into the: houe. I saw astring upon, the handle of.tllhe hat-ehet,. I compared-the string
on the handle of the hatchet with the st'ing that was fastened
to the cord of the cloak. It appeared as though it, had been cut
apart - with a scissors or knife.. I am not positive in  whose pos
~session they:were given after they were taken ot. of:the yard,
but I think it was to one, of. the watchmen.,It was between
dayligllt and. sunrise when the. hatchet anod cloak were: -found,
I saw' the string on:both the: cloak and  hatchet inot -more than:
two minutes after they:were found. - After -ithey? were: given
into the possession of tlle-w atelhran I-did not.again.: seei them
auntil thley were; brougl r t.etbfo re the coroner'sj inqustf,:  iehaps
two or: three hours afters.;: There; was not a particle of difference
between thle sthrings  oin tlhe~ hatchet:and cl0oak w:hen; I.first saw
them in the yard, iad wh —Ien:.saw them: at thecoroner's inA
quest. I went with;Mr. Noble, the assistant- captain; of the
watch, to-ar'rest the prisoner.
LMr.: Phenix- herqatsked -th-6witness-how he came to suspect
Robinson, but the question was objected -to: by r Mr.  Maxwell,
and it- was withdrawn.]




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.             157
Examination continued —Mr. Noble and I went to the house
No., 42 Dey street.!:I -rang the bell. The servant came- to the
door, and I asked her if Mir. Robinson was within.: She said
yes, and led me up to:his bed-room. I think she knocked at:tle door.:It was on a jar when we reached it, and wwlien she
knocked led Icalled out "Is Mr. Robinson within " and he (Robinson) immediately answered and said, -" Yes, that's!my name."
I then said to: him, -' I- want to speak to you, I wish you would
get up.'' He then: got up and,put on his pantaloons. I did
not then discover:anything particular in relation' to his dress.
I discovered something;wlhite, but; I did not think anything of
it at that time.::That afterwards turned out to be lime. I
asked him as soon as he got dressed to walk out with` me into
the hall —that I wanted to speak to hiim. He went *'th me
into the hall, and I then asked him if he had a blue cloth cloak,
or a cloak of-any kind. I-asked him afterwards:if he had a
blue cloth cloak, or if he had worn one. His answer was no,
that he had never had a cloth cloak. IIe then remarked that
he had an old camlet cloak, which was then hanging in his
bed-room, at tihe same time. point-ing to it and saying-" "There
it is."  When he pointed to his cloak we were standing in the
hall near his room door.: I then told him that I wanted- him
to go with me to the Hall or to the police office - I am not
certain which. Before we started off together, he asked my
consent- to let his room-mate go with: him, which- I gave; and
his- room-mate did go with us-, getting -dressed- and ready in a
very few minutes. We came up Broadway to Duane, and
from Duane into Chapel -on our way to Thomas street. After
we got into the house in Thomas street I saw the whitewash
againi on Robinson's'pantaloons. It did not occur to me until
I saw the whitewash on the fenIce to take particular notice of
it.,  The iwhitewash was partly' in front and partly on the side
of the right leg of the pantaloons. I did' not at any time examine -the -pantaloons,particularly. When: I first:went into
Mrs. Townsend's yard in the morning, I observed a little saw
bench standing:close t to the southeast'corner of the fence,
which struck -me thatI a person might have used for getting
over the feneo. A person by using that might have got over
the fnce with less difficuity than without its assistance..[It bing-:now after three o'clock, the'Court took a recess for
half an hour.]




158               REmMARKABLE TRIAI.S.
Shortly after the appointed time for reassembling after the
recess, tile judges and jury came into Court, and took their
respective seats.
The examination of Mr. Brink was resumed for the prosecution, examined by Mr. Phenix-I obtained some articles from
the room of Mr. Robinson. In the first place, I obtained a
miniature; after which I brought away his trunks and bureau,
containing a great number of articles. I examined the trunk
and bureau previous to taking them to the police office. I examined the trunks and bureau for the purpose of finding some
letters, but did not find any. I found the miniature in the bureau at his lodgings, on Sunday afternoon, after his arrest.
[The miniature was here exhibited to the witness, and he
identified it as the one he had found at the prisoner's lodgings.]
Examination continued-Upon finding the miniature, I took
possession of it, took it to the police office, and gave it to Mr.
Justice LowndeF. I believe it was a likeness of Mr. Robinson. I
did not at the salne timne brine away any other article. I merely locked the trunks and bureau and brought away the keys,
which I gave' to Mr. Lowndes. The trunks and bureau were
afterwards brought to the police office. I was not present
when they were unlocked and opened there. I did not, after
that, visit Helen Jewett's room, and take some things away
from there. I was present in Helen Jewett's roomn when Mr.
Tompkins, or some other officer, came there, and took away
some books, and some otlher articles which I don't recollect.
They took them, I believe, to tile police office.
Cross-exatmined by Mr. Maxwell-I have been an officer
nine or ten years. I have known Rosina Townsend three years.
I am not particularly familiar there. I was not particularly
acquainted with the locality of the premises previous to the
murder of Helen Jewett. I hlave never, prior to that time,
been in the upper part of the hlouse. I knew Helen Jewett.
IIave seen her at Mrs, Townsend's. Never visited her there
especially. Never visited  -Ielen Jewett elsewhere. Have
been several times in Mrs. Townsend's house. htave gone
there officially. Have liad processes against persons in tile
house-sometimes against servants, and s;nmetimes against the
girls in the house. I never particularly knew whether Mrs.
Townsend was a woman of wealth. 1 have been at Mrs.




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETTo             159
Townsend's house when I have not hlad any processes. Sometimes she would send for me when shle had been threatened by
rioters there. Never saw rioters at the house, nor did I ev
see a riot there. I was there about two months before the
murder of Helen Jewett. Never played cards at Mrs. Townsend's house, nor did I ever see any cards played there. Never
served a police warrant upon anybody in lMrs. Townsend's
house on the complaint of IIelen Jewett. I have, I think, on
one occasion, seen Ileln Jewett before the Grand Jury. 1
was in Court this morning when Mr. Noble gave his testimony.
I-Have said that when I went to Mr. Robinson's house I told
him to get up, that I wanted a word with biin. The reason of
my asking hiln to walk into the entry was in the first place to
charge him directly with the murder of Helen Jewett-but I
afterwards cl!alged my mind, and began to ask hlim about the
cloak. On my oath, my'object was not to get him  to say
something to me out of tile hearing of his room companion. I
could hlave charged himl withl the murder, or spoken to himt
about the cloak in the bedroom as well as outside. I cannot
say wly I did-not take this course. It was a notion of mine, I
suppose. When I spoke to him about the cloak, I asked him
if he had a blue cloth cloak. IIe said no-had never had one.
I-Ie then told me about the ca'rlet cloak, and pointed to it as I
have before stated. I think what I tell you now as to what
Ro:binson said when I spoke to himn about the cloak is the
same as stated when examined before the recess, and in
all that I stated.  I now recollect he swore hte oild me he had
never worn a cloth cloak. I again swear that he did tell me he
never had a cloak.
[At this stage of the examination Sheriff Tlillyer and
Lowndeh, and Mr.,A. MA. C. Smuith brought in one of a large
gang of Inen whom he had arrested while making a disturbance
outside the gates of the City Hall..The Judge ordered him
to be taken to the police e(fice for disposal by the magistrate.]
The cross.examination of Ir.. Brink was continued by MIr.
Maxwell-[ inltended to convey to the jury the fact that Robinson not only told me lie had not a cloth cloak, such asI described, but also that he hlid never worn a cloth cloak - I
mean a blue black cloth cloak. Ile did not tell me that he had
such a cloak belonging to any other person. I knew a person




160                REMARKABLE:TRIALS;
named Gray. -IIe did not say anything about a cloak of that
person's. -Thatl was an:after transaction,. and not connected
with Robinson. I: cannot tell the reason why I did not communicate to-thel coroner the important fact of tile: strings on the
cloak andthe hatenet bearing aresemblance to eachl other. I
considered myself as acting, under the- coroner,, and.not as superior to hlimn:. The second,mtime I saw the hatchet- and cloak
was when they were exhibited at the coroner's inquest.....When
I first saw:'the white mark:upon Robinson's pantaloons, I did
not feel it nor attempt to dust it....I did not attach sufficient
importance to itat first, nor did. I think much about it.'Ihere
was considerable.whitewash.on thle fence: of the yard; it was
thickly..laid on.. I believe: Imentioned;the. fact at thie coroner's inquest, before- the,:c6roner's jury.  I solemnly assert on my
oath I did not say. a-word -to Roblinson at. his lodging-rooms, or
at Mrs. Tow-nsend's, about the white, on.lis trowsers; and I also
solemnly? avow. that he. never told me it- was paint..I never
had any conversation-: with him;:on the subject.. I have never
received any money, goods, wares, or merchandise' from  MIs.
Townsend, except on one or two occasiorns, my regular fees for
the service of processces  I.:never served. any process on Mrs.
Townsend.; butI,'.have served processes upon persons in her
house, for which perhaps she:has.paid the-money. I lave received.no. other money from her... I now remember. that she
has paid me. some money, as also some other officers, for. attending her sale. She paid us- five- dollars per. day each. I
bought a- clock at the sale.: I bought it for thirty dollars. I
never paid any money for: it myseltf bt. I. believe Mr..elsh,
who was also an officer in attendance at the sale,,settled for it
when.he settled. with the. auctioneer and  Mrs. Townsend for
our services.: The clock.is no.w at mny house. I forget now. how
muchl money. I gave Welsh to pay the balance. due: upon. the
clock.. I:did give.:hil: someimoney-for that.- purpose-I: think
fifteen or twenty dellars.:- -'Welsh.bought some, articles at the
sale, but:I don't know. what -they were...I don't know what he
paid for them.;.. I don't know. whether..:Helen Jewett: held any
money;when- she was murdered. I.don'.t know that she. was
remarkable in -her sphere of life for having. splendid. jewelry,
chains and dresses,::When.I.: reached.'Helen:. Jewett's, room.
after the murder, I died not.find' any, money.. or jewels.  I, was
not told where she kept her money. I did not find any notes




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.           H1I
or coins. I believe that Mr. Welsh found a small box in her
room, containing little coins.
By MAr. Price-There was considerable whitewash on the
fence in Mrs. Townsend's yard. I did not notice any whitewash on the cloak, except a little on the tassels. A person
could have got over the fence without getting any whitewash
on the cloak. A person might:have thrown the cloak over the
fence, and then got over.
Mr. Price-Now I want you to say to this jury; whether in
all your conversations with the prisoner, from the period of his
being examined before the Police, you noticed anything in his
conduct, manner or deportment, that led you to suspect him to
be guilty of murder?
Witness-I must say he acted very curiously, very differently from any prisoner that I ever had before.
Mr. Price- Iow did lie act?
Witness-Why, he did not appear alarmed at all. I must
say, however, when I told him in the coach, before getting to
Rosina Townsend's house, of the accusation made against him,
he changed color. That is all I know of by which he acted
curiously.
M~r. Price-Did you not swear, sir, before the grand jury, you
observed nothing in his conduct to lead you to suppose that he
had been guilty?
Witness —I do not remember swearing any such thing. I do
not believe that I did.
Mr. Price-Very well, sir. We will wait and see whether
you did or did not when we get the grand jury' here as' witnesses.
Mr. Hoffman —Now, Mr. Brink, you and I have been public
officers together, and I may ask you a few questions with a little more freedom than usual. Did you ever receive any
money fiomin Mrs. Townsend for speaking to the District-Attorney in er favor?
Witness -I don't think that I ever did.
Mr. Hoffinan-Did you ever receive any money from Helen
Jewett?
Witness-; Never.
Mr. Hoffman —Did you not know that Helen Jewett prosecuted a man named Bryd, and that Bryd afterwards turned
11




162               RE9MARKABLE TRIALS.
round and proseuted M{rs. Berry, the keeper of a house of prostitution in Duane street?
Witness-I remember something of the kind.
Mr. tHoffman —Did you not receive money for acting ill lehalf of Mrs. Berry on that occasion?
Witness-I hlave received some money from  Mrs. Berry
sometimes. I cannot tell exactly what for or ow much —perhaps a dollar or so at a time.:Mr. IIoffman-Did you never -receive any money for going
to the District-Attorney in relation to an indictment that was
pending against Mrs. Townsend, to intercede with him in her
behalfa
Witness —I never did, that I recollect.
Mr. IlHoffian -Who -was the District - Attorney at that
time?
Witness-Mr. Hoffman was-you were, sir.
Mr. 1Ioffminan-Did you ever, receive any money for endeavoring to: get a prosecution settled in the Court of Sessions, that
was pl)ending against two prostitutes?
Witness-I do not recollect that I ever did. I think I
should recollect such a circumstance if I had done it.
Mr. Hoffman-Do you recollect on any other occasion having received money from prostitutes, or the keepers of prbstitutes, and if you do, state what occasion it was, and how much
money you' received  
Witness-I do not recollect ever having done anything of
the, kind.
Mr.'Morris-The gentleman appears to be very anxious on
this subject. I will endeavor to satisfy him' about the prostitution case.
Mr. 1offman-If my learned friend does not wish me to proceed with the examination, I will forego it.
Witness examined by Mr. Morris —I did receive money
from a gentleman for arranging a difference between two
prostitutes, where one had torn, the clothes of the0other.
Mri. Mlorris-Who wtas that gentleman?
Mr. IIoffman-I object to the gentleman's name being dis..losed; although of course if the gentleman persists in it, he
can have an answers
Mr. Phenix-If the gentleman does not persist in his mode
of cross-examination, I shall not persist in mine.




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.             163
Mr. IIoffman-Never mind, I will drop it.
Mr. Schureman, recalled for the defence, and examined by
Mrl'. MaxwellI did  not see or hear of any comparison of the
string on the cloak with a string on the hatchet by Mr. l'rin-k
or IMr. Noble. I was and still am under the impression that
the hatchet was -handed to me immediately after  it was fout d
by the watchman. I may, however, be mnistaklen. I did not
particularly observe any white: marks on the prisoner's trousers.
I think he wore pantaloons of a light brown color. I have expressed it as a somewhat singular circumstance, that neithler:
Brink nor Noble mentioned to me in especial -manner' about
their comltparing the strings on the hatchet and the cloak.
Charles Tyrrell called for the prosecution, and examined: by
Mr. Phenix-I know the prisoner at the bar; I boarded at
the same house with him in Dey: street. On the Saturrd-ay
night, previous to the,iil,,n1ing on which HIelen Jewett was
nmurdered, I walked up Bioek.lman street with the prisoner as
far as tlie brick church; it was between eight and nine o'clock
at night. He then wore a dark colored cloth cloak with vclvet collar and facings,' and I think he had -a capl on.
[The cloak was produced, and it was one of such a description as was represented by the witness.]
Examnination continued I left him at the corner of Beekman
and Nassau streets, and he went towards the park.  HIe told
me that lie was going to the Clinton hotel, but to my certain
knowledge he did not go in there.  I have heard. from him
that lle'was acquainted with lHelen Jewett, and I have frequently heard boarders in the house banter him about Ilelen
-Ibut I don't know positively what HIelen they meant.
Cross examined, by Mr. Maxwell-I saw Robinson  put on
the cloth cloak before he left the house.  [The witness here
put the cloak on and showed how he did it.] If there had been
a hatchet attached to the cloak, I should certainly have seen
it. I also had an opportunity of seeing the inside of the cloak
beforle he left me in Beekman street.  He pulled it open in
such a manner, that had the hatchet- been there.I could most
probably have seen it. On that evening before he left the
house he was very cheerful,: and had been joking with some of
the boarders in the house. In the course of his talk in Beekman street, he told me that he was on that day nineteen years




1 64             REMARKABLE TRIALS.
of age, and spoke of the circumstance with evident emotion of
pleasure.
[By Mr. Phenix-Before the occasion of which I ha:ve spoken,
I have seen Robinson wear a cloth cloak similar to the one
which he wore on that night. When he put it on lhe took it
either off the bed or out of his trunk. He was in the habit of
keeping it in his tlunk.
Elizabeth Salters, examined by Mr. Phenix, for the prosecution-I know the prisoner. JI knew him before Helen Jcwett
was killed.  I knew him for about seven weeks before that
occurrence; I knew him at Mrs. Townsend's during that tirme.
He used to come and see me there. He generally wore a cloak
when he came there in the night time.  It was a dark cloak
made of cloth. IIe had to it a black silk corded tassel. On one
occasion I discovered something deficient as regards one of the
ornaments of the cloak.  One of the tassels was off. The tassels were of long silk braid. One of the tassels that was
broken off and sewed on again, was of long narrow braid. I discovered this about two weeks before Miss Jewett came to the
house. I was at Mrs. Townsend's on the morning that the murder was committed. I was there when the cloak was found.
I made a statement in reference to one of the tassels of the
cloak, before the cloak was exhibited to me. [The cloak found
back of Mrs. Townsend's yard, was here exhibited to the witness, and she positively identified it as the one that Robinson
alias Frank Rivers used to wear.]
The examination was continued-I never knew the prisoner
befor,0e the murder by any other name than that of Frank Rivers.
There was another young man who called himself Frank Rivers
who used to come to the house with the prisoner.  They said
that they were cousins. Helen Jewett lived at Mrs. Townsend's three weeks before she was murdered-  I knew her before she came there, she was a favorite among all the girls, and
I never knew or heard of her having a quarrel with any one in
the house, or out of it. On the night of the murder, I was in
the house. At a late hour, towards the morning, there was a
person called to see me. At the time the alarm of the fire and
murder was given, the person was in my room. He camne in a
quarter of an hour befqre I heard the alarm. I expected him
there on that night.  He was undressed at the time of the
alarm was given. I did not hear him come into the house; I
did not hear him until he was in my room. I recollect hearing




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.            165
a person calling for a bottle of champagne after I went to bet.
It was Helen Jewett called for t1le champagne.  I went to
bed about half past ten o'clock. It was about half an hour afterwards when the wine was called for, I had a conversation' with
Robinson about the tassel that was broken off the cloak.  He
said it was broken off during, a sleigh ride.  The conversation
took place about two weeks before Helen Jcwett's death. IIe
happened to speak about the tassel because I had it in my
head.
Cross examined by Mr. Maxwell-I have talked with Mrs.
Townsend about tile murder to-day; I also spoke to her about
it, and to several other persons on the day of the murder. On
the morning of April 10th. wllen the cloak was brought into
Mirs. Townsend's, I did not pretend to swear to the cloak, but
only to the tassel. Don't know that there is anything very
pIeculiar in the sewin g of the tassel on the cloak. I expect that
the tassel torn off in the same manner as the one on the cloak exh-ibited, inust necessarily be sewn on the same way. I was in bed
when I heard -Ielen Jewett calling for albottle of champagne.
M1y room was immediately opposite to Helen Jewett's room.
Could not hear everything, or indeed anything that took place
in Ilelen Jewett's room, unless it was loud. Was nineteen
years of age in April last. Befbre I went to live at Mrs. Town.
send's I lived at my mother's house. Have been away from
nmy mother's house upwards of two years. Have lived the
greater l)alt of that time at Mrs. Townsend's. Before I went to
live there, I lived at a liouse kept by Mrs. Brown. Cannot
say how many persons came to IMrs. Townsend's on the night
of the murder. There were several persons in the parlor, but
cannot say how many, nor who they were. Did not see any person attempt to leave the house on the morning of the murder.
IIeard Mirs. Townsend. say that a person attempted to leave the
place and that she had prevented him. Do not know that
Helen Jewett knew that Robinson visited me prior to coming
to M s. Townsend's to see hier. The other Frank Rivers came to
see imoe. Tllev have both been in myroom at the same time.
Thley used solnetimes to dress a good deal alike. When the
alarm of the murder was given, I ran out of my room. I did
not dress before coming out. Saw several men there. Cannot say how many; was too much frightened. Did not see
any of the men attempting to get away. Tiey did get away,




166              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
I believe, when the doors were opened to let the watchmen in.
Did not see a person at Helen Jewett's room when the alarm
was given, who subsequently got away. Did not hear Mrs.
Townsend speak of such.an occurrence. Saw Helen Jewetl
bureau examined on the morning of the murder. She had a
gold watch and chain and ear rings. Saw Mrs. Townsend have
the watch and chain on the morning of the murder. Was
present wlen:-Frank Rivers came in on Saturday night to see
Helen. We were in the parlor when lie caine in, and she told
us that her dear Frank had come. Did not see him when lihe
came, and dmo't know how he was dressed. The othler Frank
Rivers used occasionally to visit Helen Jewett.' Mrs. Townsend
told me scme day last week of the particular bald mark which
she had observed on Mr. Robinson's head. She told inc it was
a curious bald place on the crown of his head. Before she told
me this never knew anything of it. I have more than once
seen the prisoner with his clothes off, and so exposed that I
should think I could have observed the place upon iris head
about which Mrs. Townsend spoke. I never to my knowledge
did see any such place.  Heard of a person's visiting  Helen
Jewett regularly every Saturday night, but never saw him.
By Mr. Morris —The name of the person was, I believe, Bill
Easy, or at all events, that was the name by which he was
known.
By Mr. Hoffman-There was no ill-feeling between I-elen
Jewett and me, because of Frank Rivers leaving me to visit her.
I never said anything to her about his visiting me. I thought
that she had most right to him, as I understood from her that
she had known him intimately for a long time.
James Wells, examined by Mr. Phenix for the prosecutionI am a porter in the employ of Mr. Joseph I-Ioxie. I have been
in such employment since last June. There was a hatchet in
the store; I was accustomed to use it for the purpose of splitting
up wood. The last time that I recollect seeing the hatchet in
our store, was on the Wednesday before the murder was said to
be committed. Richard P. Robinson was in the employment
of Mr. Hoxie idn the: same:store in which the hatchet was. I
used to open the.-tore in the morning. The first time: that I
missed the hatchet N;ras on the Monday after the murder. I
then wanted it and looked for it, but could not find it.  Sometimes I wanted it for opening boxes, and I wanted it on that




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.             16 7
morning for that purpose. I-lad not. heard of the murder when I
missed the hatchet;: did not make any particular inquiries.about it.
[The hatchet found in the rear of Mrs. Townsend's house was
here positively sworn to by the witness, as being the hatchet that
belonged to Mr. Hoxiej]
Cross-examined by Mr. Maxwell-The hatchet was used in
different parts of Mr. Iloxie's premises, and sometimes in the
street for opening boxes. On the Saturday afternoon before the
murder Robinson was engaged in the store up to half-past five
o'clock. IHave always considered him to be: a kind and amiable young man. I-ave seen him day after day without his.hat,
and never observed that he had any particular mark at the
back of his head; never saw any baldness at the back of. his
head. Know the axe from the dark marks that- are upon it,
and from its being blunted in a particular way. There was
never any blood upon it that-I observed. On the -Saturday before the murder we had part of our store. painted: white, and
some of the upright pillars or supporters of the cellar lwhitewashed. I remember that Mr. -Ioxie got some of his clothes
rubbed with paint.
By Mr. Morris-I do not know that the prisoner's clothes in
any part were painted.
Emnma French, examined by Mr. Phenix for the prosecution
-Lived at the house of MIrs. Townsend sixteen months.
Boarded there at the time of Helen Jewett's death. Know a
person named Frank Rivers-he never visited me.' Have
seen tiim at: Mrs. Townsend's four or five times. Knew of his
being-there:on the night of Helen Jewett's murder; lie wore a
hat and cloak. My room was: on the lower floor, in front, opposite Mrs. Townsend's room. Saw Frank Rivers conme in between nine and ten o'clock on the night of the murelr; was
standing at my room door in the entry when lie came in. Tile
reason that I was at the room door is that I expected some one
on that night..  He did not come into my room; he went. directly through the passage. Saw him enter the recess towards
the stairs.,  Saw Helen Jewett on that night, about half an
hour before, ie came, and she said in my presence that- her
"dear, Frank was comillg."  About eleven o'clock on that
night saw HIelen Jewett. At that time Frank Rivers was
there.  -Ielen came: down stairs to get a boot that the shoe



168              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
maker ]lad brought. Previous to that night had spoken with~
the prisoner at the bar. Had seen him in Mrs. Salters' room.
When. he came in on the night of the murder did not hear him
speak. Mrs. Townsend let him in. Before she did so, she
twice asked "who's thlere?" It was between nine and ten
o'clock when she let him in. The lamp in the entry was at
that time lighted. It hung near the foot of the stairs. The
light was so clear that I could see any person that entered distinctly.
Cross-examined by Mr. Maxwell —Iave been all day in the
Grand Jury room. Mrs. Townsend has also been there all
day. We were all waiting there yesterday. Mrs. Townsend
told us she had been examined in the court yesterday. She
did not tell us particularly what she said, or what the lawyers
asked her. There were two Frank Rivers visited Mrs. Townsend's house. Sometimes I have seen them dressed alike,
except their cloaks. Robinson wore a cloth cloak, and the
other Rivers wore a Boston wrapper. I have seen both Frank
Rivers in Miss Salters' room. Mrs. Townsend never said anything to me about being able to see a person in the entry
by the lamp. Tile person Mrs. Townsend let into the house did
not say a word. When he came in he put his cloak up to'his
lace, so I could only see his forehead and eyes.  I thoughtt
from what I then saw of him that it was thb prisoner at the
bar, but I cannot now swear that it was he that I saw. I can
not say why, if it was he on that night, he wished to cover his
face; as I had seen him several times previously. When Helen
came down, about eleven o'clock, to receive the boot from the
shoemaker, she was in full dress, the same as she had been all
the evening. With the exception of a bottle of champagne
that Helen Jewett had, only know of one bottle of champagne
being drunk in Mrs. Townsend's house on-that night. It was
drunk in the parlor. Did not have any more in Mrs. Townsend's room on the night of the murder; nor was I awake, nntil Mrs. Townsend came down stairs crying out fire.  Did not
see two men in the passage, half dressed, when the alarm was
given; am positive of this.. Saw the watchmen come in.
Cannot tell how many came in, or hardly what took place, as
I was much frightened. Did not hear a man say, to one of the
watchmen, "Don't take me, I'm not the person that was in
that room."  Saw some gentlemen try to leave the house, and




THE MURDER OF.HELEN JEWETT.           169
in great confusion. Some of them were undressed. A great
number of strangers used to come to Mrs. Townsend's house in
the course of a week. Cannot say how many there were there
on the night of the murder. Live at Miss Brown's, in Grand
street, now. It is a house similar to Mrs. Townsend's. Cannlot
say how many strangers I have had to see nie in the course of
a week. Sometimes I had several. Have, whilst there, let
persons out of my room before daylight. When I did so, I
was compelled to go to Mrs. Townsend's room, to get the key,
that being a rule of the house, as I nnderstood. It was the
custom of tile girls to go to her room and ask for the key when
they wished to let any one out of the house after the door was
locked for the night.
Denis Brink, recalled for the prosecution-I lookea into the
trunks and bureau that were brought from Robinson's room,
and did not find a cloth cloak in them, nor did I find one in
his room. I believe the coroner took possession of the letters
that were fotnd in Helen Jewett's room.
Mr. Eldridge, the watchman, recalled by Mr. Hoffman, for
the defence —When the cloak was found, it was not in a heap;
it was spread out two-thirds of its length-probably about
three feet.
[It being now nine o'clock, the Judge ordered the Court to
be adjourned until ten o'clock the next day, and it was adjourned accordingly. The Jury were placed in the mean
time under the charge of eight police officers and constables.]
THIRD DAY.
The excellent arrangements that were made the previous
day by Sheriff Iillyer and Lowndes, and High Constable
Hayes, and their deputies and assistants, fortunately prevented
a repetition of the tumult, disorder, and violence, which interrupted tile progress of the proceedings in this mnost extraordinary trial on the two preceding days.
Shortly after teh o'clock, the doors of the great court room
were opened for the ingress of members of the bar, reporters
and witnesses. All the entry gates of the hall were closed,
and attended by various constables an! officers, and business
in all other tribunals of the hall was suspended in consequence
of the excitement amongst the multitude, who, notwithstand



-170              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
ing the bars to their admittance to tile court room, and the still
damp and wretched weather, still densely congregated in the
vicinity of the hall.
Immlnediately on the: court being opened in the usual form,
and the ordinary proclamation being made,- the prisoner was
brought to the bar, attended as before, by his counsel, and M!'.
Joseph IHoxie, his relatives and friends.  He bore the same
firmn, calm, and composed appearance that he has even done
sinlce the discovery of the horrid murder of the unfortunate
IIelen Jewett, even when gazing upon her mangled and bloody
corpse, when before the coroner's inquest.  The proceedings
were resumed:by Mr. Phenix calling, as a witness for the prosecution, a colored girl named
Sarahll Dunscombe, who, on being sworn, was examined by
Mr. Phenix, and deposed as follows: —I was acquainted with
Helen Jewett;: was employed by her shortly before her death;
was employed by her to do her work in the morning, and dress
lher in the evening. Used to go in the morning rto clean her
room up, and in the evening about half past five o'clock to assist in dressingher. Was employed by Helen Jewett all tlhe
titme that she was in MI1rs. Townsend's house, and a short. time
previous at Mrs. C(unningham's, in Franklin street; saw a miniature inl Miss Jevett's -when I worked for her. Saw it in her
possession on the Friday morning before her death.  On Friday morning, Itelen Jewett went out, and sle placed the minia ure in:my possession to clean and dust the frame. After I had
done this, I put it in the drawer-Miss Helen's drawer —the
drawer of the bureau. -Did not set the miniature after putting
it in Helen's drawer. It was the miniature of a male. Have
seen the miniature at the police office. [The miniattre taken
from:Robinson's trunk by M r. Brink on the 10th;of April was
here shown to the witness, and she identified it as being the
same which she had seen:in Helen Jewett's room.]
Cross-examined by Mr. Maxwell — My mother lives at -No.
188 Franklin street; she-takes in work;; I used to go to Miss
Jewett's room between eight:and nine o'clock. I went: pretty
punctually every morning, and did not perhaps vary any more
than five or ten minutes any morning. I was with biss Jewett
on Saturday afternoon about half past five o'clock, as near as
I can recollect, It was on the morning of Friday that I saw
Helen:J,:ewett's miniature; I thinkit was about half past seven




THE MURDER OF HELEN  JEWETT.             171
o'clock wlien I left Miss Jewett, on Saturday evening. I went
to my mother's when I left Miss Jewett. I know  it was half
past seven o'clock when I left M-iss Jewett, because after 1 left
her I went into the grocery to inquire what tile it was,- having after that to go an errand down: town fir my: mother. She
lhad not finished dressing when I left the house. -Thereo was a
fire in the room on that night. I made the fire. I took up
some wood from the cellar for that purpose.  Took up three
piece of wood. It was small wood; the wood was not split.
Don t know. v hether it was hickory wood or not.  There was
a carpet on the floor. The end of the bed was not near the
fire i1aec. The 6re' was lighted when I left the house; kniow
it. was half past five when I went to the house on Saturday
night, because I inquired as I was going to the corner
of Franklin and I-udson streets; when I went to IIel i's
room at half past five o'clock, there was a gentleman in the
room with her; did not see the face of that gentleman; did
not hear her call that gentleman by any name; heard her say,
when he was sitting on a chair with his knee on. the: bed,
"Frank."  Did not hear her add anything but Frank.  After
being in the room about ten minutes, went for a pitcher of
water, and when I returned the gentleman w as gone; fetched
the wood from the cellar to make the fire, whlllle he evas there.
[Mr,. Maxwell here read the witness' deposition as given at
the police office to compare it with her present testimony. It
did not differ materially in fact, except that; she left IIelen
Jewett's room on tile Saturday night, and that she took thle
young man who was in the room when she went there to be
Robinson, the prisoner at the bar. In her deposition, however,
she swore that she only supposed it to be Robinson, from his
figure, and that she did not see his face, as Helen was sitting
upon his knee at tile time he was there.]
WVitnsess continued, examined alternately by Messrs. M;xwell
and Hoffman —If I swore positively, at the police 6ffice, that I
thought the young man wlhom I saw in Miss Jewett's room on
Saturday night was Robinson, I said so without meaning it,
and while I was frighlltened, and I thereflre hope to be excused:;
-I cannot say; but I am  frightened now; I was never before
brought up for the purpose of swearing.  Mrs. Townsend has
never, at any time, told me what I ought to say. Might havQ
said that I thought the young lman who was with Miss Jcwett




172              REMARKABLE TRTALS.
Was Mr. Robinson, from his dress and figure, and the color of
his hair; but, if I did, it was because I was frightened as I had
no reason to speak positively to any one; I have never spoken
to any one but my mother about this, and she told me to tell
nothing but the truth. Have not spoken to any girls, officer,
or any body else respecting the affair. The gentleman that I
saw on the Thursday previous to the murder at Helen
Jewett's room I think was Mr. Robinson. Cannot be mistaken
in him. Think that the gentleman that I saw with Heleen on
Saturday night was dressed in black; amn certain that he had
not white pantaloons on.
Joseph I-oxie, Jr., examined by Mr. Morris, for the prosecution-Am a nephew to Mr. Joseph Hoxie of Broadway and
Maiden Lane. Am in Mr. Hoxie's employ. Am in the same
store that the prisoner was in. Think that I can identify his
handwriting.  [Mr. Morris here showed the witness a letter
and asked him if that was in the handwriting of tile prisoner.]
Witness —after looking at the letter-It does bear some resemblance to the prisoner's handwriting, but I cannot swear positively that it is. I -am acquainted with his handwriting only in
some measure. Have been in my uncle's employ eight months.
Cannot say exactly how long, Robinson has been in his employ.
HIe was there before I went to live with-my uncle. IHe was a
sort of general clerk in my uncle's employ; and sometimes he
kept the books. He began to keep the bolks after the partner
of Mr. iloxie went away. Francis P. Robinson, a cousin of
the prisoner, was the partner. The duty of the book-keeper is
not only to keep the books but to copy letters. Have seen the
prisoner, (Richard P. Robinson), in the act of copying letters.
Soon after Mr. Hoxie's partner left, Mr. Somerindyke was engaged as book-keeper for my uncle.
Mr. Maxwell-I object to the gentleman  0oi:ng on with the
Witness' ex'tllmination to prove the handwriting of the prisoner
— he being incompetent to prove it from the fact of being only
measurably acquainted with it.
Mr. Morris-I submit to the Court whether I have not P
right to know the extent. of the measure by which the judg.e
merit or opinion of the witness, as to his knowledge of the
prisoner's handwriting, is guided.
Judge Edwards ruled in favor of Mr. lMaxwell'a objection.




THEE MURDERI OF 1HELtN JEWETT.          173
Mr. Morris (to the witness)-Are you acquainted with the
prisoner's handwriting fiom having seen him write?
Witness-Don't thlnk I am sufficiently acquainted with his
handwriting to be able to swear positively to it.
Cross-examined by Mr. Maxwell-Saw Robinson (the prisonerj on the Saturday afternoon preceding the murder. Saw
him at the store between three and four o'clock. Don't recollect seeing him in the morning. It aas just before dinner on
Saturday afternoon that I saw the prisoner.
By Mr. Morris-There were thlree clerks in my uncle's store
— Mr. Newton Gilbert, Mr. P. F. Robinson and myself-and
Mr. Somerindyke, the boolkkeeper. Mr. Gilbert was the principal clerk. He used to keep one key of the- store, and the
partner (James Wells) the other. It was his (Mr. Gilbert's)
business to lock up th'e store at night. Mr. Robinson (the
prisoner) has, on some occasions, had charge of the key. Can
not recollect when. I-le has had charge of the key when Mr.
Gilbert was there. Mr. Gilbert, I think, took charge of the
key for some time previous to the night of the murder —perhaps two or three weeks. Know positively that this was the
case. Cannot tell how I know this. Did not see the key given
to Mr. G:ilbert. It is only ihy inmpr,ession that Mr. Gilbert had
the key for two or thlree weeks prior to the murder. Sometimes Mr. Gilbert had it, and sometimes the prisoner at the bar
had if'. I beIieve Mr. Gilbert lives in Chambers street. I-e is
not a married iman; he is single.
William Van Nest, examined bv Mr. Morris &or the!pro-aecntion-I am a public porter. Know Mr. Robinson, the i,prislner.
PRemember on one occasion'delivering a letter to him. Went
to the store of MIr. Hloxie, No. 101 Maiden lanle.  Aslked if
Richard P. Robinson was within; did not know him by name
at that tilme. As I wenlt in at the door a young man passed
inc. Found out by inquiring at the store it was Robinson, the
prisonmer, who had just gone out. I went into the street, and
spoke to lilnm in front of the store; told him I had a letter for
him which I was directed to give him. Don't know th it I told
hinm who thle letter was from. Think I showed him the letter,
but am not certain. I-le told ane to pass through the store, and
leave tlhe letter (on a beam. I thoughllt he meant in the privy.
Went through the store into the yard, but, thinkl;ig Robilnson':;
conduct very strange, did not leave the letter, and passed




174'              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
through the store, and went and did a job with my cart. On re+urr.ing to.ny stand at the corner of Maiden lane and Pearl
street, the prisoner came up to me and asked me what I had
dore with the letter.  Told hiln I had it still in my possession,
because I was expressly directed- to give it to him. Did give it
to.him,'and he gave ine two shillings.. I- reside at. 28 Thomas
street. HI-eard of the'lnurder of Helen: Jewett about seven or:
eight o'clock on the morning: of April 10th.' So-onl after hearing of the murder, I went to the house where the corpse was
lying, and saw the corpse. Wlen I first saw it, I did not think
I lad seen. the person'of' the corpse before.  On seeing the
corpse a second time, on. Monday morning, I thoughlt I had
seen the corpse, I- mean, the person of' the corpse, before.
Had seen her before in Cedar street.  It was she  who
gave me the letter to take to Richard P. Robinson, the
prisoner at' the bar.
Mr. Price objected to the counsel for the prosecution proving
a correspondence between the prisoner and the deceased by
showing that prior to her death' sh!e had written letters to the
pris(-,nnr. The learned gentleman argued that the only manner
in wllich such correspondence should be proven, according to
the strict rules of law, was first to establish the fact that the
prisoner had written letters to her (the deceased), as every man
living was liable to receive letters fromn any prostitute who
thought proper to address himn.  The Court ruled in- favor: of
the argument, and the examination of the witness on this subject was discontinued.
Edwaid. Strong, examined by Mr. Morris, for the prosecution —I do not know Mr. R binson. Knew IHclen Jewett; saw
her twice in the street on the Saturday prior to her murder —
once in the morning, and once in the afternoon. Was ill IIelen
Jewett's ro(om  at Mrs. Tonwnsend's house between five
and six o'clock on -the afternoon of Saturday, the ninth
of April, on the day previous to the murder.  A  black
girl came into; the room  when I was thlere, on the Satur.
day afternoon. She brought in some clean clothes, a pitcher ot
water, and some. wood, whilst I was there.  I sat on a chair
near the end of the bed, which is close by aw window, the
greater: part of the time. " Wlen' I saw IHelen walking in the
street int the afternoon th3re was anot'her g ilt walking with her.'law [leleL go into the house   Welt inkt  thle hlouse at the




miHE MURDER OF HELIN JEWETT              175
same time that sloe did. Think that it was between five and
six o'clock when I went into the house with lier.
By the Judge-Part of tile time that I was there, I sat on
chair near the bed, with my head leaning on the bed; do no6
recollect that she mentioned: my name: or any other name onthat night.
~Mr. Mforris-Di( she mention tile name of any person that
was comring there on that nightt:Mr. I-ToTma: )objected to any answer being made to this, and
it was witlhdrawn.
The witness was not crose-examined.
Samuel Van Nest, examined by' ir. Morris, for the prosecution-I am a porter. Am  stationed in Cedar street opposite
No. 1. Know Mr. Robinson, prisoner at the bar; have known
him about a year. Knew IIelen Jewett. Knew her for about
a year. IIave carried papers at different tirnes.fromn Mr.: Rob-"
inson, directed to Helen Jewett. They were folded and sealed
as letters, and had every appearance of being letters.
By the Judge-Although tlhe letters were directed with the
name and number, he would sonetimes mention Helen Jewett's
name, and tell me to deliver thell to her.
[Mr. Morris here handed some letters to tale witness that he
might identify them as being the same that he had taken to
Helen Jewett, but Mr. Maxwell objected to their being identified in this manner, as it was not yet proof that they were letters. For all the court and:jury know, said the learned counsel,
they might be mere blanks inside.' The court: ruled that Mir.
Morris had a right to present the letters to the witness in the
manner lihe was about to do.]
Witness (after looking at the letters)-I cannot positively
swear to the identity of.the letters now shown to me, although
I have very little doubt but that they are the same as I carried
to Helen Jew ett from IMr. -Robinson.  Only carried one letter
to her-in Thomas street. -The -most of the letters I carried toher from.him were directedito Mrs. Berry's, in Duane street,
where she then lived. On one or two occasions, I took back
letters to -Mr. Robinson from.IIeien Jewett. Did this when he
told me to wait for an answeir  have carried- lundleG or packages in the shape of  books ircm Mr. IobLtison to Hele n  Jewett.
Don't renmemxber et:r carrying:. any fri'u.her to him. -Don t




1 76              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
know that I could possibly identify any of the letters that I
have taken from Helen Jewett to theprisoner.
Oliver M. Lowndes, police magistrate, examined by Mr.
Phenix, for the prosecution —have examined the premises of
No. 41 Thomas street. Know where the cloak and hatchet
were found, but think it would be difficult to explain the precise position without a diagram. Understood the cloak to have
been found in the rear of a lot fronting on Hudson street. The
fence in the rear of two lots on Hudson street is so dilapidated
between the privies, that a person could easily get into IIudson
street from the rear of the house 41 Thomas street. A person
could not escape without going through houses. There were no
alleys into Hudson street. There are alleys, or were alleys,
running from the rear of those lots into Duane and Chapel
streets. The lot just in the rear of- No. 41 Thomas street is surrounded by a very high fence. There was an alley east of the
rear of Mrs. Townsend's house, running into Duane street,
by which a person could without difficulty escape. A  watch
and chain, and some rings, were cxlhibited to me by the coroner
as having been obtained bj' him from Helen Jewe.-L's room. IIe
also took some letters and papers from her room, and 1, on going there, also found some papers and letters, which I broughtl
to the police office. Was on one occasion at the house, No. 41
Thomas street, in company with Mr. Lawrence (the nlayor)
when the lamp in the entry of the house was lit. Did not make
any experiments to see whether the l ghts reflected in a person's
face coming in, or not.  I believe Mir. Tompkins, police officer,
and Mr. HIunt, one of the city marshals, made such an experiment. Never went to Mhr. Robinson's room. Was at the police
office when the bureau and trunks of Mr. Robinson were brought
there. There was a little pocket, wallet found in one of his
trunks. Examined the wallet to see what it contained.
[The wallet was handed to the witness, and he identified it as
being the one he found in the bureau. It contained papers
-bank bills of exchange to a large amount-belonging to Mr.
Hoxie.]
Mr. Maxwell cross-examined the witness at great length, in
reference to the exact situation of' the premises in Thomas
street, and the adjacent buildings, in the course of which a diagramn was exhibited arid explained, but no material fact was
cillcted favorable to the prisoner.




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.            177
At the close of this examination, Mr. Phenix, at the solicitation of the gentlemen -of the jury, rose and stated to the
court that it was now apparent that the trial of the prisoner at
the bar was yet likely to occupy one or more days beyond the
period it had already progressed, and that if any arrangement
or order could be made for the accommodation of the jury on
the Sunday which would intervene -consistent with  the
established usages in criminal prosecutions, the law of the
land, and just administration of public justice,-he and his associate counsel for the prosecution, as also the counsel for the prisoner would gladly accede to it. Each, or most of the gentlemen, said the learned counsel, had perhaps some domestic duty
to attend to, which he was anxious to fulfil, and if they could
be permitted, with officers to attend them, to visit their families on Sunday they would be glad. Mr. Price cited the
instance of the jury empannelled in the case of Mr. Jennings, who was murdered in Orange county, the trial of which
occupied seventeen days, during which occasion the jury were
permitted on two or three occasions to visit their families.
The court said that they would take time to consider as to what
would be the best and proper means of acting with reference
to the jury.
Elizabeth Salters, recalled by Mr. Phenix for the prosecution-Wtis in the room of Helen Jewett shortly after her murdered body was discovered. Found between the. bed post and
piliow a silk handkerchief. Should know it if I saw it again.
[A handkerchief was here produced by the learned counsel,
and identified by the witness, as being the samne which she
found under the pillow of Helen Jewett's bed.]
Examination continued —The other person who called himself Frank Rivers, was in Mrs. Townsend's house on the night of
the murder  He was in the lower part of the house; lie was
there between nine and ten o'clock; lie was not there a great
while; there was another person with him'  he talked to rue
when he was there; there was a gentleman in the parlor whu.
came out and talked to him; don't know wlho that lperson wab.
He remained in the entry all the time lie was there  The other
person also remained there with him, and tney went, away together  The next time I saw himn was on the Sunday morning
after the murder  He came to the bouse i., conipany with the
)risoner at the bar and the officers Brink and Newbalt The y('cklg
12




178                MAR1iRAB3LE TRIALS.
man I speak of was the other Frank Rivers. When they were
first brought in, I cannot recollect what time it was. I have not
since discovered the real name of the other Frank Rivers.
[MHr. Phenix here asked if Mr. Tewv was in court, and a
young man by that name rose from among the witnesses. The
witness immediately recognized him as the othder young man
~who went by the name of Frank Rivers.]
By Mr. hIoffman-When the other Frank Rivers (AMr. Tew)
left the house, I let him out. Mrs. Towilsend was then down
stairs, or in the parlor. I think it was about ten o'clock when
I let him out. I cannot say exactly how long he was tIhere.
]By Mr. Morris —ie was dressed in a Boston wrapper.
Mary Gallagher, examined by Mr. Phenix for the prosecution-I was at Mrs. Townsend's ]house in Thomas street on the
mn(orning the murder was committed. Saw the prisoner at the
bar there. Had never seen lhim before. Asked him what induced him to commit so cruel and barbarous an act. I-Ie replied, "Do you think I would blast my brilliant prospects by
so ridiculous an act? I am a young man of only nineteen
years of age yesterday, with most brilliant prospects."  My
answer was, " My dear boy, God grant that you mllay prove innocent."  "Why," said he, "there's another man's hlandkerchlief under the pillow, with his name full upon it."  lie then
added,'" I am not afraid that I shall be convicted." My answer
was, "But, my dear boy, your cloak has been found on the other
side of the fence." I then again, said to him, " God grant that
you Tnay prove innocent, for the sake of your poor mother."' Then
asked him if he had seen what an awful state she (IIelen Jewett) was in, with her head split open, and burnt almost to a
crisp. IIe said, " No, they won't let me see her."  I said, "If
you could -see, if you committed the act, I am sure your heart;QouIld break,"  At that time Mr. Brink came up and struck
nle on lthe jshoulder, saying, " We allow no person to speak to
the p isoner." I begged his pardon, -and sat down. Ite further said, "We don't allow any person to speak to induce him
to say anything to eonvict himself."  I said I had no intention
of tile kind.
Cross-examined by Mr. Maxwell —Reside at No. 122 Chapel
street  l!;ve no husband; beep  house.  It was in. the
atternoon, before ainner, when  I went to Mrs. Townsend's hoube in lo0mas street. It was towards the midd'.e of the day when i had the conversation spoken of with




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.             179
the prisoner at the bar. When he. spoke to me about there being another man's handkerchief under tile pillow, I did not
know that a handkercl.ief had been discovered under the pillow. Did not ask any one to go and see if there was a handkerchief in tile situation in which Ihe had described. I ain
very confident that the conversation I have mentioned did take
place between me and Robinson, and no other. There were
several persons in the room when the conversation took place.
Mrs. Townsend was in the rdom,-Mr. Newbolt, some of the
female boarders in the house, and other persons. We spoke together in a loud tone, and all the persons in the room might
have beard it, for all that I know. I had never been in Mrs.
Townsend's house more thanthree times prior to the murdertwice in the daytime,'and once at night..It is two winters
since I was there in the nlight time. Put my arms round Mr..
Robinson's neck when I first spioke to him, and felt more favorable. to him than otherwise. Went to Mrs. Townsend's in
tile daytime to converse with her about sonme men who had
stoned a number of houses.,
George B. Marston, examined by Mr. Phenix for tile prosecutio'n —iKew Helen Jewett; visited her at MIrs. Townsend's;
assumed while there the name of Bill Easy. Know' howu the
handkerclief spoken of got into Helen Jewett's roomn. Took it
there several days before her death for her to mark my name
upon- it. When I to(ok it there she asked me if the colors were
fast; I mean, it' they would not fade. I bought -it for a first,
rate English handkerchief. I reside in Cliff street; was at
home oil the night of the murder, after eight o'clock.  After
marking my'handkerchief Helen washed it, and the colors
washed out; she bougllt me another and marked it, and kept the
one that I bought, as she sai4, for a duster.  I bad no. particular n'iglhts to go to see Helen, except on Saturday nights. Believe I went to see her every Saturday night that she Was in
the house, except the one on which slhe was murdered. Was
there two or three times of a Saturday night. Tile name of
the person who kept -the boarding house at which I live in
Cliff street is Mrs. Morrison. It was at &O Cliff street. I was
not in Mrs. Towrsend's house on the Saturday,of the murder
at all,- neither day nor night.
Cross-examined by Mr. Maxwell-As far as I know, Helen
Jewett was very fond of being employed at her needle. She
was fotnd of ol)ligilg persons. Previo'us to washing my. hand



180              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
kerchief, she made some shirts for me. I don't know that she
ever mended any. Independent of sewing things for me, I believe she did similar favors for other persons. Have seen
other clothes there. Hllve left things with her to be mended
and fixed.
By Mr. Phenix —I do not positively know that IHelen Jewett
ever fixed or mended any articles or garments for any other
person but myself; have seen her have ear and finger rings,
buckles, (some very handsome), a gold watch and chllin, &c. I
have seen her have more thain one ring on every finger. WVhen I
speak of buckles, I mean waist buckles. Don't know po-sitively
what articles of jewelry Helen had shortly before her death;
knew her about eight months before her death; have seen her
in possession of the jewelry of which I speak both before and
after she went to Mrs. Townsend's; among her buckles was a
large cameo one; she had full six rings, I think, while at Mrs.
Townsend's —amongst them, two emerald ones. I was with Helen
on the Friday night before her murder; was with her only
fifteen or twenty minutes; don't know in what part of her
room Helen kept my handkerchief.
By Mr. Maxwell-Helen was one of the most splendidly
dressed women that went. to the third tier of the theatre. She
}had a variety of dresses, —very valuable ones. I have seen her
sometimes, when full dressed, wear a great number of ornallients; sometimes, however, she would dress without using suchll
ornaments. I don't know that, although she had very rich and
splendid dresses and jewelry, that they were more splendid and
valuable than those possessed by other females of a similar description. On the Friday night, when I went to see Helen, it was
about nine o'clock. Don't recollect who let me in. A great number of persons used to visit Mrs. Townsend's house; I have heard
her house called the City hotel; I have never heard it called
the Kentucky house, or the Alabama house. I was not at the
house on the Sunday morning that the murder was discovered.
By Mr. Morris-I don't know that Helen Jewett ever had a
bracelet.
[At the conclusion of the witness's examination, the Court
took a recess for half an hour.]
About half an hour after the expiration of the recess, the
Court resumed its sitting, anid Judge Edwards thereupon informed the jury that the court had duly considered the application made, on their behalf, by the District Attorney, but that




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.             181
it could not, consistently with its duty, permit them  to leave
the custody of the officers, or the immediate vicinity of the
city ball, until the close of the trial. The learned Judge thenl
desired the sheriff to summon twelve officers to attend tlhe
jury next day (Sunday), so that the latter might have every
accomodation that could be afforded to them.
Josephl lIoxie, Senr., was examined by Mr' Morris,, and deposed as follows:-I know the prisoner. I have known him five
years. He was in my employ at the time the transaction took
place. He had been in my employ two years on the 11tll of
March preceding.  When he first came here, he came to me
in the capacity of an under clerk.  He had been in a store
previous to coming to live with me-in the store of Mr. James
Robinson. James Robinson did not afterwards become my
partner.'- I was pretty well acquainted with Robinson's qualifications as a clerk when he first caine to me.
[Mr. MIorris asked the witness upon what terms and conditions of salary the prisoner entered his employ. Mr. Maxwell
objected to the question. Mr. Morris replied that in consultation with the district attorney; they had thought this question
importallt. The learned gentleman then conferred privately
with the Court, stating the object of his interrogatory, after
which he sat down without resuming the question.]
Examination continued-The prisoner was promoted to be
assistant book-keeper, and afterwards general out door clerk.
About one year previous to the 18th January last, he was promoted to be assistant book-keeper, but I am not positive as to
the time. In this capacity, he copied letters for me.  I have
seen him write.
Mr. Morris-Did you become acquainted with his hand
writing from seeing him write.
Witness-I do not exactly understand the import of the
question. I have seen him write frequently?
Mr. Morris repeated his question, and explained, and the
witness t]hen said that he was acquainted with prisoner's landwriting.
Mr. Morris then handed to the witness a MS. book (being
the private diary of Robinson), and asked himn if that was in
the handwriting of the prisoner.  The witness replied: —' I
dare not swear it is-there is a considerable variety of hands
in the book itself."




182              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
Mr. Morris-Can you see any part of the book where you
can identify the prisoner's handwriting.
Witness-Some parts of the book look something- like the
character of his handwriting; I have little opportunity of
judging of any part of his writing except fromn what I have
seen in my books, and that is a plain business-land character
— unlike what I see generally in the book.  On loking carefully over the book, I cannot see any writing that I would
venture to swear positively to be his. I would not like to
swear positively to the handwriting of any man in the world,
and if tile Court please I will state my reasons.
Mr. Morris-Is it because you would not like to swear to the
handwriting of any man in the world, that you do not choose
to swear to the handwriting in that book?
Witness-No, sir, that is only one of my reasons; there are
some parts of the book where there is writing that I believe to
be the prisoner's, but I shall hesitate to swear to it positively.
Mr. Morris-Please, sir, point out such parts as you believe
to be his.
W itness-If I say even that I believe the parts to be his, I
should qualify my assertion by stating that I was in doubt
whether the handwriting was his, or that ot another person in
my emplo,y, or whose handwriting is very similar to what I see
throughout the book.
Mr. Morris-What person do you mean, sir?
Wittless-Mr. Francis P. IRobinson.
Mr. Morris-Is he in New York, sir?
Witness —Ie is not; hle is in Europe.
Mr. Morris-Wlhen did he go to Europe?
Witness —On the 26th of Feburary last.
Mr. Morris-Look at the latter part of the book, sir, and at
the dates, and see, after the date of which you speaK, wl)t!hler
you find any handwriting that you believe to be the writing
of the prisoner.
Mr. Maxwell objected to this course of the examination as
illegal, and as not being within the ordinary rule of evidence.
Mr. Phenix replied, and after a brief technical discussion,
Judge Edwards decided that it Was quite proper to ask of the
witness his belief as to the handwriting of the prisoner, and
that his belief on the subject was admissible testimony.
iMr. Morris then landed the book orjourlal to the witness,




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.             183
and asked him to mark with a pencil such pages in it as lhe bel3eved to be in the handwriting of the prisoner at the bar.
Tile witness then took the book and marked a great lumber
of pages, after which it was handed to the Counsel for the
prosecution.
Mr. Morris then handed to the witness a number of letters
that were found in the room of Helen Jewett, bearing the name
of Richard P. Robinson, and which were sent by hiln to the
deceased either by messengers or through the post office. Out
of fifteen of the letters of the description then exhibited to the
witness, he only expressed his belief that one of them was in
the handwriting of the prisoner.
Frederick W. Gourgous, examined by Mr. Phenix, fior the
prosecution —I am a clerk in the employ of Dr. Chlabert, the
Fire King. lie keeps an apothecary's store. Was in the store
of Dr. Clhabert on the Saturday evening preceding the murder
of Helen Jewett.
Mr. Phenix-Did you know the prisoner at the bar,-Robinson a.
Wittness-Not by that name, sir. Knew him by the name of
Douglas.
Mr. Phenix-Are you certain that he is the person?
Witness-Am not very positive, bflt think he is. It is some tine
since I saw him before that day. I believe the prisoner at the bar.
to the best of my knowledge, is the same person who called himself
by name Douglas.  I think I have seen him four or five tilnes
in Mr. Chabert's store. IHave seen him in the back room of the
store. Never saw him write in the back room. Remrnember ol 
one occasion he called at the store and wished to procure of nle
some poison; believe this was a day or two before I heard of the
murder. There was another person in the store at the time.
The name of the person was Francis Meyers. The poison. that
he asked for was arsenic. lie said that lie wanted it for the
purpose of killing rats. We did not sell any to, him. We are
not in the habit of selling it to anybody.
Cross-examined by Mr. Maxwell-H-Iave been in the employ
~of the Fire King four years. The store is 324 Broadway. We
do a great deal of business, and a number of persons are fre.
quently in the store. Ilad seen the prisoner several times in
the house before the murder. The last tinle that I saw him
there was on the Saturday night before the murder. We are




184              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
always in the habit of refusing to sell arsenic to strangers and
others. It was after dark when he called to buy the arsenic.
We have frequent applications in the course of a year for
arsenic for killing rats. It is a very common thing. I have mentioned this circumstance before to Mr. Lowndes. I forget exactly
how long it is since I mentioned this to Mr. Lowndes. ly memory
is bad, but not very bad. I think I mention'ed this circumstance
to Mr. Lowndes about two weeks after the young man came to
purchase the arsenic. I did not go to Mr. Lowndes to tell him
the circumstance; he came to me I did not mention it to any
one except to Mr. Chabert. I did not mention to Mr. Lowndes
after Robinson was arrested for the murder that a person of the
name of Douglas had been tow our store to buy some poison. The
first time that I saw Mr. Robinson, the prisoner at the bar,
knowing him to be Mr. Robinson, was in this court. I knew
him before as Mr. Douglas. One or two persons in the court
pointed hinm out to me as Mr. Robinson.
[The witness was here requested by the counsel to point out
to him any gentleman who informed him that the prisoner was
Mr. Robinson, and he pointed out two persons from among the
spectators,-a Mr. Rockway, and a Mr. Trowbridge.]
The cross-examination of the witness was cohtinued-I did
not know the prisoner at the bar as Mr. Robinson, until he was
pointed out to me in the court. I know Mr. Brink. Mr. Brink
did not point him out to me. We have frequently had prostitutes in our store and office, the same as I expect every other
apothecary in this city has.  There is a private office attached
to the store, and I have seen females in there frequently. I
have not seen more there since the murder of Helen Jewett
than before.
By Mr. Phenix (handing a paper to the witness)-This paper
is in-my hand-writing. It was given by me- to the prisoner. It
is a receipt for money paid by him to Dr. Chabert. The person
to whom I gave that palper is the same person who called to
buy the arsenic.
By Mr. Maxwell-i meant to say, when I said that I did not
know the prisoner, and asked persons where he was, that I did
not know where he was seated.
[Mr. Maxwell here cross-examined the witness so rigidly that
he became completely confounded. The counsel closed with
some impassioned remarks, which led to loud plaudits from the




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.            185
audience. The judge put a stop to the uproar, however, and
the counsel took his seat.]
By Mr. Phenix-I mind just now that the first time I knew
prisoner by the name of, Robinson was in the court; but I
know that the person I knew as Douglas is Robinson. Knew
this from Mr. Chabert.
By MIr. Maxwell —There were no persons but Mr. Meyers
and myself in Doctor Chabert's when the arsenic was called
for.
Newton Gilbert, examined by MlIr. Morris, for the prosecution-Know thy prisoner. Have known him two years. Have
seen him write.. Think I can tell his l andwriting.
[The diary of the prisoner was here shown the witness, and
be was asked if it, or any part of it, was in the handwriting of
the prisoner.]
The witness continued-Do not believe it is all in his handwriting; do not think it is. It resembles it very much.
[After carefully looking over the leaves of the journal one
by one, the witness deposed that he thought some of them were
in the handwriting of the prisoner; and he marked twelve
pages with a pencil which he believed to be so. The remainder of the pages he could not, he said, unequivocally recognize
to be in the prisoner's handwriting, although he said they resembled it very much. The witness identified a part of the
title page of the journal as being in the handwriting of the
prisoner, namely, the words: —" New York, June, 1834."
The counsel then showed the witness seventeen letters bearing
the prisoner's signature addressed to Helen Jewett, nine of which
he could not identify as being in the handwriting of the prisoner, but he swore to eight of thlem as being so.]
Examination of the witness continued-I have on one occasion, I think, seen the witness wear a cloth cloak; it was about
the latter part of February last, or the beginning of March;
I cannot give a description of the cloak more than any other
gentleman's. I met him in the day time at the corner of John
and Gold streets, when he wore such a cloak.
This witness was not cross-examined.
Dr. Walker was called upon the stand as a witness for the
prosecution, but before he was sworn, the district-attorney requested him to stand down, and he called




186               REMARKAIBLE TRIALS.
Elizabeth Stewart, who, being sworn, deposed as follows:I llave seen the prisoner at the bar; the first time I ever saw
him was in August last, in Reed street; I kept the house in
Reed street that lie visited; he camer to see me about a room
that he wanted. [The District-Attorney was about to ask for
whom he wanted the rootn, when Mr. Price objected to the
question, and the Court sustained tile objection. The DistrictAttorney then stated that the principal object of his asking the
\uestion, was to prove that the prisoner at that time went by
the very name which the clerk of Dr. Chabert knew him by.
Mr. Price objected to this description of evidence as inadmissibie and illegal, and stated tlhe circumstances of the prisoner
attempting to obtain poison for the purpose of killing Helen
Jewett, or any other woman, was not proper evidence under
this indictment,-in which the date, the hour, the weapon,
and death were specifically charged-and therefore any evidence in corroboration of it could not be received. The Court
took the same view as to the admissibility of the evidence as
was expressed by the learned gentleman (Mr. Price), and Judge
Edwards decided that the objection was well taken and well
provided.]'ihe witnes was not cross-examined, and no other question
being asked of her by the counsel for the prosecution, she left
the court.
Mlr. Morris, under the direction of the district-attorney., now
offered to read the letters of, the'prisoner to Helen Jewett
which had been proved to be in his handwriting, and admitted
in.evidence.
Mr. Hoffman rase to object to their being read, and lie made
his objection in a brief and energetic address to the court, in
the course of which he was anticipated by the DistrictAttorney
who withdrew his proposition, on the ground that he had himselfsomle dcubt as to the legality of their admission as testimony for the prosecution, against the accused.
The District-Attorney then said that, at this stage of the
proceedings, he  should  rest the prosecution, and  then
the counsel for the prisoner consulted  together; soon
after which the defence was opened by Mr. Ogden IIoffman in one of those brilliant effusions, which in the course of
his long and extensive practice, justly acquired for him an
iinperisllable celebrity. lie detailed in the course of his ad



THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.              1-S7
dress the course which the counsel for the prisoner would pursue in conducting the defence of their client, and spoke with
keen and cutting severity of the reputation and character of
the witnesses who had been produced for the prosecultion. He
dwelt at considerable length upon the disadvantages under
which the prisoner labored in not being able, fiom his comparatively obscure situation in life, to produce witnesses to prove
where he was on the nighlt of the murder, and mentioned in illustration of this, the fact that although he (the prisoner), was eating
oysters and taking wine at a certain refectory in this city, as
late as eleven o'clock on the night of the murder, yet fromln his
not being known, as public mnen generally were, (wherever
they go) by the persons who were present, he was lunable to
avail himinself of their testimony, as they could not again identify
or recognize him.
The learned Counsel then adverted,} in emp!atic terms, to
the course that had been adopted by certain New York papers,
in reference to the accused, taking advantage  of  the most
* minute and trifling circumstances to turn the tide of public
prejudice against him. Inl proof of this, he ponited directly to
an unfair paragraph which had appeared in the'San in relation
to the prisoner, having had his lead shaved since lie had been
-in prison, —and paid a tribute to the papers which had not resorted-for profit or effect-to suchl mean subterfuges, as hlonorable and worthy exceptions to the culpable conduct of some
conductors of newspapers in the city. In conclusion, the
learned gentleman stated, that he and his associate counsel
should rely greatly for the complete exculpation of their client
by proving by the testimony of a highly respectable tradesman
-a positive Alibi, slhowin;g that the prisoner up to past ten
o'clock, on the night of the 9th of April last (the night of( the
murder), was smoking cigars in a grocery store in this city,
situated ftll a mile and a half from the house of Rosina Townsend, in Thomas street. After finishing his olpelling address
(the peroration of which was loudly applauded by the specta-.tors and persons generally in the court room), the lear-ned
counsel called as the first witness for the defence: —L
Robert Furlong, who, on being sworn, was examined by Mr.
Hoffman, and deposed as follows-Keep a grocery store at the:dorner:of Nas-sau and Liberty streets. lKeep a tanliiy grocery
store. It is about twenty feet wide and sixteen feet deel).




188               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
Have kept there twelve months; and before that I kept at the
corner of Liberty and Nassau street. Have been a grocer twentyfive years. Am now thirty-three years of age, and have been
in the business with Miles hIitclhcock the time I have mentioined. Was brought up by Miles Hitchcock. Knlow the
prisoner at the bar by sight. He has often been in my store
to buy segars. Always thought that he was a clerk in the
neighlllorhod. Never knew liis name or occupation. I heard
an accoutt of the murder of Helen Jewett read friom the newspaper by a boy in my store. - This was on the Monday morning after the mu'der. The: prisoner was in my store the Saturday nighlt previous to the murder. He came there, as near
-as I can say, about half-past nine o'clock. Hie bought at the
store a bundle of segars, containinin  twenty-five. After he
bouglht the segars, he lighted one, and took a seat on a barrel,
and smoked there until ten o'clock. When the clock struck
ten, that gentlesnan (rtle prisoner) took out his watch and
looked at it. He said that his watch, which was a small silver
lepine, was one minute past ten o'clock. I also took out my
watch, which I had regulated on that day by Mr. HIarold, of
Nassau street, and compared my watch with his. When the
clock struck, my partner said, " There's ten o'clock, and it is
time to shut up."  That was our usual time, and the porter
went out to put up the shutters. Before he shut up, he brouglht
into the store out of the street a number of barrels that were
standing there. Robinson remained seated in the store until
he did this, smoking all tlie time, and by the time- the porter
got the store closed, he had nearly got throug!l the second
segar. When we got completely shut up, MIr. Robinson remarked to me that he was encroaching on my time. I replied,' O, no, not at all; I shall remain at the store until the -boy
returns."  When Mr. Robinson first came into the store, my
partner was asleep, and lie remained dozing, with his head
laid back, and his mouth wide open, until Mr. IRobinson, in a
jocular manner, knocked the ashes offhis second segar upon his
face, which awoke'him. He woke just befobre the clock struck.
He then wdre a dark colored frock coat and cap. Before he
went away, he stood a short time on the stoop, and afterwards
said, " I believe I'll go home; I'm tired," and then bade me
good-night. It must have been full ten or fifteen minutes
after ten when he left my store. I should think it to be a full




THE MURDER OF IIELEN JEWETT.           189
mile from my store to Thomas street. I cannot be mistaken
in what I have stated as to the prisoner's being at my store
on Saturday night, and at the time and the hour that I have
mentioned. When I first heard the murder read on the Mon.
day morning after the murder, I did not think very much
about it, the woman being one of those characters that so
often appear in the papers. It was about Wednesday fellowing before I thought anything about Mr. Robinson, and learning then that he was one of Mr. IIoxie's clerks in Maiden lane,
and not having seen of him for two or three days, I had the cuIriosity to pass by that store, but did not see him within. I still
felt certain that it must be he, and went up to the Bellevue,
knowing the keeper, to see him. I cannot say positively what
day of the week this was. It was about a fortnight after the
murder. My porter boards in my house. I am  a married
man. I live with my wife. My porter remains at my house
on Sunday, and on the Sunday of the murder he informed me
of the circumstances in relation to it that lhe had heard. As
soon as I saw him at Bellevue I recognized him as being the
same person that I saw in my store on the Saturday night to
which I had reference. He also recognized me, and called me
by name. Told him I was sorry to see him in that situation,
but that justice would be done him. I am now positive that the
prisoner here is the person who was in my store on the ninth
of'April. I cannot be mistaken in this. Am not related to
the prisoner, nor to any of his connections, in any way, even
in the most distant manner. It was my intention to have gone
out of the city with my wife, and should have done so, if you
(Mr. Ioffmall) had not called upon me for the purposbe of appearing as witness in the trial, and in justice to Mr. Robinson.
Cross-examined by Mr. Phenix-I did not positively know
that the prisoner was a clerk; I only supposed, from his youth,
that he could not be an employer. He had been in my store
frequently before the Saturday night of which I have spoken.
I cannot say predisely how many times, but perthaps twenty times
within a month or so. He has often lighted segars in my stoie,
and sometimes he has stopped to smoke there ten or fifteen
minutes. HIe made several remarks while he remained in the
store on the Saturday night. Remember some remarks that
lie made about the weather, about its being unpleasant. I was
reading the paper on that night nearly the whole time that he




190              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
was there-the New York Evening Post. It did not rain on
that nighllt, but it was damp. I know that it was damp, because
I remember the watchman coming up to me, just as I was
leaving the store, and saying to me, "I've brought my coat
with me to-night. It appears as if we were going to hlave a
storm.". -I think that when the prisoner was in my store on
Saturday night he wore dark clothles entirely-coat, vest, andpantaloons. 1 did not know that tile prisoner was a clerk in:
Ir. iHoxie's until I saw him at BIellevue. I began to think,
from wliat I had read in the papers,: the person arrested for the
murder must be thle young man I had seen at nmy store. I
began to think this the man after reading a minute description
of him in one of the papers. I forget which of the penny papers it was. It gave a description of his person, his stature,
his dress, and general appearance, that exactly agreed with the
young lman who came to nmy store. I:emember meeting you,
at the prison, and asking your permission to see Robinson; I did
then state to you that I did not know young Robinson, and
that I wished very much to find out whether I could identity
him. Hlad been there to see him before that, and had seen
himn, and the time that I met you there I went up with an
order to see him from Mr. Bioxie, but they would not let me
in, as they said the order was from a Whig, and I therefore
asked you for an order. Some weeks might have elapsed from
the time I first -went to see him, and the timne I met you. Mr.
Burnham, one of the keepers, was present when I first went
there, and I told hiln that mny object in wishing to see Robinson was mere curiosity, to ascertain whether or not I knew
him, Mr. Burnham went up with me to the cell, and he
called him out.  When lie came out, I said to Mr. Iurnlilam,
"Now let us see whetller lie will speak to me," and as soon as
he came up to me he shook hands and said, " Iow  d'ye do,
Mr. Furlong."  Tlhe second titne I went to see Mr. Robinson
at Bellevue, MIr. Lyons accompanied me to his cell, and told
me I could not say anything to himn without his being present.
I told him I did not wish to say anythling, that I merely wished
to have a good look at the prisoner, in the event of my being
brought up as a witness, so that I coulld niot be mistaken inhim. Was not in-Robinson's company three minutes at the
second tine I went to see him. I merely asked him  how ]he
was, and he said very well. Mr. Burnham told me that if I




THE MURDER OF  HELEN JEWETT.             191
knew thle facts that I said I did, I ought to communicate themr
to thle prisoner's counsel. Subsequent to tlhis, lMr. Hoxie's
clerk called upon me, and-requested me to go and see tlhe geo
tleman. I did see him, and told hinm the whole story. NTo ole
ever told me that my testimony would be very miaterial in tlhis
case. I did not know that I should be called upon as a witness
until lately. Did not know it until just as I was going out of
town, and then Mr. Hoffinan requested me to remain iin the
city, saying that I should be wanted. Afterwards received a
subpenua to attend this trial. I dcn't vary being, in my store
of an evening, perh ps once a mcinth.
ByMr. Price-From the time that I saw Mr., Robinson at
my store on the Saturday night, I have no doubt in my mind
up to tile present time, that lhe is the person who was there;
I aim positive of it.
By MIr. Maxwell [holding up a lepine watch, which he took
from Robinson's desk]-l-lave no doubt that is the watch
that Robinson showed,ne onl Saturday night, when he was at
my store. I remembler that in comnparing his watch witl
mine, I remarked, from its thickness, that it was a shad.
Joseph lIoxie, Sr., recalled by Mr. Maxwell-Tle watchll
now presented is one that I have known the prisoner to wear
several months. I think I can positively identify it, although
there are no particular Inarks upon it. I bouglht the watch for
himn myself.
Mr. Furlong, recalled by Mr. Morris —The person from whom
I had the order to go to Bellevue the second time, was Mr.
IIoxie. I presented it to Mr. Lyons, and lie threw it away,.saying it was from a Wlhig, and that the fellow who wrote it, had
notlhing to do with tlein; that lie had no power there.
By Mr. Mlolris-I tlink Mr. Lyons was in jest when lie
made tis remnark. Indeed, I feel assured that he was in jest,
as he treated tle in a very polite and gentlemanly manner afterwards.
[It being now near ten o'clock, Mr. Price suggested the propriety of adjourning before any other witnesses were called, and
the court complied with lhe suggestion of the gentleman, by ordering the court to be adjnurned until eleven o'clock on MIoonday
morning, wlen tile defence of the prisoner would be resumed.]
Each day's progress in this irteresting trial seemed but to
increase tihe interest and excitement which existed in thle p:ll.




192               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
iic mind since its commencement, and'the gates of the City
Hall were again surrounded on Monday by a dense and anxious
multitude.
The proceedings were resumed by Mr. Hoffman's calling
upon the stand as a witness for the defence
Peter Collyer, who being sworn, deposed as follows-I am a
watchman; belong to the city watch, and first district, under
Captain Ilall. Was on duty on the night of the murder. Was
or. my post between Franklin and Chapel streets on that night.
I heard the alarm rap froln the house in Thomas street; proceedec: down Chapel street from Franklin, and I enquired of
some persons who were in the street where the alarm  came
from. Think I was the fifth man who got to the house. Re,
mained at tle house until daylight. Saw Rosina Townsend,
that night, the keeper of the house. IHad some conversatioa
with her. Conversed with her so as to endeavor to find out
who committed the murder. Asked her if she knew the person
who was in the room on that night with Miss Jewett. She
told me that she knew him  by the nalne of Frank Rivers.
Asked herif she thought that that was his right name, and she
told me that she did not know whether it was or not. I
then asked her if she knew him in case she should see hin, and
she said she would not by daylight. She went on to say that
hle had not visited tile house more than four or five times, and
that when he came he wore a cap, and covered his face with
a cloak, so that slhe would not be able to recognize him if she
saw him, or that she had no opportunity of seeing his face, and
should not know him if slhe met him in the street. This was
said in the presence of some of the girls. I presume that every
girl in the house was in the roomn at the timne. There were six
or seven there. She said that he went upstairs into Helen
Jewett's room. Understood her that there was a bottle of
champagne called for, which she (Mrs. Townsend) carried up.
Asked her if she had an opportunity of seeing him when she
took the wine up, and she said that she had not, as Helen took
the wine from her at the door, and she immediately afterwards
came down stairs. She did not say wliere he was, whether in
bed or not. Then asked the girls who were sitting round, collectively and individually, if any of them knew the young
man. With the exception of one, they all replied that they
did not.




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.             193
Cross-examined by AMr. Phcnix-Tllere were other men in
tile roomll besides milyseif when thle conversation took placeIMr. Secor allnd Mr. Lane. Slle did not say that she saw any
persoll in Helen Jewett's room. This conlversation was loud
enough for all persons in the room to have heard it-or, at all
events, I think so.  She said she let a person in that answered
to the namne of Frank Rivers. I did not understand her that
it was in the entry that he put his cloak up to his face. I understood her that he alwavs calme in thle doOr with his cloak
up to his face, and that this was the way he always came. Shle
did state that she did not see his face, and that she could not
swear positively that it was him. The purpose of making the
inquiries that I did make, was to detect the murderer.  I enquired of her where this Frank Rivers lived. Ier answer was
that she did not know. One person present, I think it was
Miss Stevens, who occupied a room adjoining hIelen Jewett's
(at the south-east corner of the house), stated that she knew
him. Miss Stevens stated that he attended a dry goods store
in Pearl street, a few doors fiom Chatham, and that if it was a
week day, she could find him in a few minutes.  Miss Stevens
did not give me his name, nor any other person. They all
said that they did not know him by any other name than Frank
Riverl.  Upon getting this information, I went in company
with Mr. Lanle, a watchman, for Mr. lBrink. We went to his
hlbose and called him up, and he came after us. I did not
ktlow Mrs. Townsend before this. I was not in court when
she testified. I have inot seen her since to my knowledge.
This is hot the first time of my being in court. Came into
court on Fridiay. Only knew that the person I spoke to was
MIr's. Townsend because slhe appeared to be mistress of the
house, and the girls in the house called her by that name. She
did not say a word about the lamp having been lit in the entlry
when she let Frank Rivers ill. If she said anything on the
subject, I must have heard it. In the course of the conversation, slhe might have said other things that I do not now recollect. I am positive that she did not say that she saw Frank
Rivers' face by the light of the lamp whten she let him in. She did
not say anything about seeing a person in the roomn when she
let him in; slie did not say a word about the door swinging open
towards the wall when she took the champagne up. She did
not say anything as regards the light in the room, or whl ere it
13




194                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
was standing. I did not hear her say that she saw a light
standing ill the back room at three o'clock ill the morning, but
she said that she saw a light standing in thle entry; I cannot be
inis'aken aboult that. I aln as certain that she said that as I tam
of any other fact that I have sxworn to. She said that she fltlnd
the back door on the jar. She said tllat the light in tlle entry
was5 a round lamp-that tthere wvere but two in thle house-one
belonging to Miss Stevens' rooml alld thle other to Miss Jewett's
roomn. She went on to say what she did whlln s!'e discovered
tlhat the back door was open. She stated that wlhen slhe first
observed the light, shle did not go immediately down to see
<about it, but a few minutes afterwards shle went to see about
it, and she tllought that some of the girls h:ad gone into thle
yard. She tlhen went down in a short time, opened the door,
anld called to see if any plerson was in the yard; she called two
or three times and got no answer; she then totk a ligllt and
went up stairs to Maria Stewart's door, -llich sllh found locked.
From there sthe went to Helen Jewett's ro(om, and olened the
door, when the smoke burst out upon lier face. I did not go
wx th Mr. Brink in pursuit of tle prisoner; Mr. Noble, I believe:went. I saw them go off. To my knowledge tllere were no
(other watchmen there.  Lane and Seers were present when I
lhad the conversation with Mrs. Townsend.  At, the titme I had
a con'versation with Mrs. Townsend, Mr. Lane also hlad some
covcrsation with her. Mr. Lane, Mr. Palmer, Mr. Carter and
iy-selir all went, I thlink, into the house together; when I first
went into the llouse, I found Mrs. Townsend standing on the
platforln of the stairs, up stairs near IHelen Jewett's door.
When we got to the house we found the watchmen thereGardller,  Van Norden and -Iall.  Mr. Vant Norden let Ine in;
thle fire was not quite'extingnished when we got to the house,
but it was not blazing. All the watchmnen had something to
say to Mrs. Townsend when they first went in, but I don't kndw
what any of them said in particular. Talked principally about
tlc persons that had been there the nigllt before, withl Ielen
Jewett. I heard Mr. Lane ask Mrs. Townsend some cuestions
about the person who was in the house the night before.  I did
klot pay particular attention to what he said to her D)on't know
whether any other watchlman asked her any questions. Some
part of what slhe told me, sile told  nce without putting any
a uestions to lher.  After our conversation finished, I went into




THE MURDFER OF HELEN JEWETT.             195
another room.  After I had heard the conversation I hlave
spoken of, I communicated it to a numr)er of watllrmen ill t-lie
watchhouse. I mentioned it to Mr. Secor, M1'. Garland, Mr.
Jagger, and Mr. Griffin, I told all these persons thlat M1is.
Towllsend had represented to me that she did not see Frank
I1Ui.ers' face when he came into the house. Don't recollect
that I told these persons, or any of them, that she informlned
me there was a light standing in thle entry.  Don't know that
I stated to any of themn that she came down and foun(l the
door open. I think that I told them all that she had stated to
ne with the exception of the lamp being in the entry, and tile
door being open.  MHrs. Townsend told me when she spoke
about the lamp being in the entry, that it was by the back
door on tle floor.  I can't be positive that she said so, but I
understood her to say so. Ilave had'no communication with
tlle priisoner's counsel abo,~t whlat I could testify in re!ation to
this affair, except with ALI. Maxwell tlis morningT. Now, I recollect, I think I had some similar conversation with Mr. HIoffnan on Friday. I told those gentlemen what I have told here,
right off, and without being interrogated by them; I think I
have told more lhere than I told thlemn.
By Mr. Maxwell-I am a charcoal inspector as well as a
watchman; have lived in New York twelve years; lave been
i city watchman since October last; have lhad no conlversation
with Mr. Hoxie, Mr. Robinson, Senr., (the father of the prisoner), or any other of his friends or relations, in relation to
t'iis affair, and I have no other motive under heaven in co,,ing
here to testify than to sleak the whole truth.  Thle room in
which Mariia Stevens slept was only divided f'ron i helen
Jewett's room by a thin partition of lath and plaster.  [Mr.
MIaxwell hlere asked MIr. Phenix if he had Maria Stevens in
attendance among his list of witnesses for the prosecution.
iMr. Phenix replied that she was dead, tlhat on the Inmoning of
the murder she caught a severe cold which resulted in her
breaking a blood-vessel; and that she died a few days since.
In stating this Mr. Phenix remarked thb:t had slie lived'she
Would have been a most important witness for the prosecution.]
Examination of witness continued by Mr. Maxwell-Maria
Stevens, the girl now said to b e dead, is the girl whoinformed
me that she knew who FraJlk Rivers was, and where he lived.
She said that on one occasion she had played at cards with him.




196              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
Rosina Townsend recalled by Mr. Maxwell-I know a colored girl named Sarahll Dunscombe. Ttlat girl told me I think
that Frank Rivers had been in Helen Jewett's room on the
fllhlisd.ly preceding the murder. I do not believe that I-said
positively that Frank Rivers (Robinson), was at my house on
the Thlursday preceding the murder; think that I said it was
on the Wednesday or Thursday preceding.  If Sarah Dunscoimbe said that it was Thursday I should be inclined to beT
lieve her, although I am not governed in anything that I say
by her opinions or statements. I repeat that I think the,prisoner was at my house on the Thursday preceding the murdel,
but I am not certain. It might be on the Wednesday precede
ing.  Maria Stevens room  was adjoining Helen Jewett's.
Maria Stevens died on Wednesdaysweek last, I think it was.
She died at the house of Mrs. Gallagher, the female who has
been examined as a witness in this case.
Mr. Maxwell here asked the witness if she knew  or had
heard of any man having committed suicide since the murder
who was in her house on the night of the murder?
MZIr. Phenix objected to the question, but the court overruled
the objection.
Mr. Maxwell then repeated the question, and the witness
answered that she never heard of such- a suicide.
By MIr. Phenix-I mentioned the circumstance of the white
ma k Cat the back of the prisoner's head before I saw any account in one of the newspapers of his having his head shaved
while in prison. I did read such an account in one of the papers. Prior to seeing that publication, I mentioned the circumstance to you (Mr. Phenix) and Mr. Morrill. Mentioned it
at M3r. Morrill's office. Saw a watch and chain and ruby ring
that were found in Helen Jewett's room. I connot exactly say
who took possession of them. I think one of the watchmen
brought them to me, and I think I afterwards delivered them to
one of the officers ofj ustice; think it was the coroner. Kniow of
nothing else found in Helen's room except her books and clothing. A box of things was afterwards brought to me that I understood to belong to Helen Jewett, to be taken care of..Did
not tell any watchman, nor any other person on the morning
of the tenth of April that I did not see the face of Frank
Rivers when I let him in. Don't know that I know a watch.
man named Collyer. Did not to my knowledge state anything




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.              197
to any watchman or any other person in relation to the murder, different from what I stated on my direct examuination.
Did not tell any watchman thiat I found a lamp lit in the entry
standing upon tile floor near the back door.
By M. Price-I do not recollect that I had any conversation
with any watchman. I do not recollect that any watchman interrlogated me at all on that morning, until after the coroner's inquest. The coroner's inquest did not sit until past nine o'clock.
I an almost pcsitive that I did not converse with any Watchman
on that iorning. I called thetm in to assist in extinguishing the
fire. Last Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, I spent the principal part of my time in the grand jury-room in the building
across the park. I was in company with the ladies thlere,-Miss
Salter, AMiss French, Miss Jollns, MHiss Caroline Stewart, Miss
Eiliott, and Miss Brown. The colored girl, Sarah Duncombe,
was also with us. Dul'ing those three days no one came to us
except one person on one evenilg to con \ erse with us about the
trial. i know that Miss Salter and Miss'French have been exarniled, because they spoke of it when they returned from tlle
court. They have spoken a great deal about what passed in
the court, but I took very little notice of what they said. Have
heard Sarah Dunscombe say she thought Frank Rivers was the
persnl who was with Helen Jewett on Thursday.  The girls
and I have dined together every day except one durilng the
progress of this trial. Since Sarall Dulnscomle left my house;
until tle, cornrnencement of this trial, I have not seeni ler.
By Mr. Phenix-I have been requested not to hold conversation with any one in reference to this affair, and I have invariably ob erved thle injunction, and when the girls have spoken
to me, I begrfred them not to do so. All the girls wlio were in
nvmy  ouse at the timne of th}e murder remained there until tlhe
M]onday fol!owing.
Oliver M. Lowndes, police  magistrate, examined  by
Mr. Hoffman —I conducted tlhe examination of witness, in conjunction with the coroner, at the coroner's inquest ileld lpon
tlle body of IIelen Jewett. Rosina Townsend and Saratl Duriscomrbe were present at the examination. Rosina Townsend
stated in her examination, in reference to the voice which slhe
heaird at the door on the Saturday nighlt, that she knew it to
be Robinson's, on receivinTg the second answer. It' sle had
not known it to be his, she said, she vu,,uld have opened the




198               REMARKABLE TRIIALS.
window to see -lho it was, bIefore opening the door. I do noi
recollect that on that occasion, slie said a word about Bil.;
Easy's voice, or even mentioned his name. I am very welt
satisfied tlat in some of my conversations with RosinaTownselld
she stated that she believeil thlat.lobinson was at her ]house or.
the Thursday night preceding the murder. I am not certaii.
tlhat she stated tlhis under oath. Not a word was said by her about
the bald place on RIobinson's lead. She stated tllat Robinlsonl
was lying in bed when slhe wetnt up withl the clhampagn.e, on
his side, with his book a little raised on his elbow. I think she
stated that there were two lights in thle room, a lamp on- the
mantle piece, and a candle by which lhe was reading.  I
remember thlat you, (Mr. HIoffman) asked her if the light was
between her and Robinson when she was at the room door, but
I f,,rgct the reply.  She stated that when she took lp tlle
clhampagne, she remained but a few moments —but slhe had no
buisiness to remain there. She said that thle door went back
agaitst the wall, and slhe had refused to go out of tle rooln as sho
did not tllink that shle had any business to remain tliere. Sarall
DnnsCOmb)e in hler exai..ination, stated that Robinson was with
aMiss Jewett on the Tliursday preceding the mlurder, iand I understood MIrs. Townsend in her exa'mination, as confirming her
statement. Sarall Dunscombe described a person being with
-Ielen Jewett on Saturday evening, (the nigllt of the murder,)
iBetween five and six o'clock. That person, it appeared, turned
out to be Mr. Strong, who has been examined as witness here,
but from tle p],)sitiveness with which Salah stated that it was
Robinson, I was at first led to believe that it was him. Slhe
said that thle person she referred to sat in Helen Jewett's room,
upon a chair near the bed, with Helen' Jewett upon his knee,
and t!hat hls position was such, that she could not see his full
face.  Sarah stated that on Friday morning HIelen Jewett
showed her a portrait, and asked her if it was not a good likeness of the person who was there on the evening previous,
(Tlursday). Tills was Robinson's portrait, and Sarah said that
it was a good likeness. Slie stated that thle person who was
with Ilelen on Saturday was the same person who was withl
her on Thursday, and on'Robinson's being pointed out to her at
the coroner's inquest, slie identified him, as she had seen himn
at both times.
By Mr. Phenix —Wllell Rosina Townsend was examined at




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.              199
the piolice office, she was under oath., Mr. Resolvent Stephenls,
late clerk in the Police office, wrote down her answers to the
illterrogatories I put to her. Sarall Dunscombe was also examined under oatlh, and I wrote down lier examination. Tle answers written down were precisely those given by thle person
under examination, in reply to interrogatories proposed to them.
(The written examination of these persons was handed to the
witness, and he identified it as being that which had been taken
at thle police office.)
By Mr. Hoffman-I remember thlat in the cross-examination
of Mrs. Townsend and Sarall Dunscombe, the clerk, at onle time,
suspended writing, and Mr. Price requ( sted him to go on with
his writing, as the examination might be material testimony,
in the trial of the prisoner.
By Mr. Phenix- Somie questions were put, and answers given
on examrining lMrs. Townsend and Sarah Dunscornbe at tile
police office, but were not written down. They were not written down because they were considered to be irrelevant, imnnia
terial. I discovered a number of letters in HIelen Jewett's.room when I was at Mrs. Townsend's' house on the mornting'when the nmurder was discovered. I read one letter in tlhe
room which I could again identify. The carrier took a numnber of letters away from the room of the deceased, whlici he
subsequently brouglht tomrne. After they were placed in my
possession, I took them home and read tile most of theml.
[Some bundles of letters were lhere handed to tile witness, and
lie identified them as being the same that were fou)d by ]himself and the coroner, in the room, trunks, and bureau of Helen
Jewett.]
E~xanination contlingued: —A bureau and two trunks were
brought from Robinson's room to tile police bffice withlout thel
knowledge or authority of Mr. I-Ioxie, but IMr. IIoxie was
present when the contents were examined.
[Before the witness left the stalld lie explained to the court
and jury an important error wlhich he Ihad observed in tile dkagram of Mrs. Townsend's house and premites, which had beell
exhibited as testimony in the case.]
Rod man G. Moulton, examined by nMr. Maxwell, for th:e defence-At the time of the murder of IIelen Jewett  I lived
at No. 42 Dey street, ill the same house with the prisoner at
the bar. On the Thursday evening preceding the murder, I




200              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
came to the hlouse by 7 o'clock, and there saw the prisoner.
I remained in his company from that until between 12
and 1 o'clock, until he went to bed. He went to the theatre
on that night; this was on the'th of April. The " Maid of
Judah," and the "Dumb Belle" were the pieces represented
there that nilght.
Cross-examined by Mr. Phenix-I cannot swear positively
whether le went with me to the theatre, or whether he met
me in John street. We were both in the theatr-e when the
curtain rose. e We remained-there froln the commencement
until the end of the performance; both of the opera and farce.
I think that we remained together in the theatre all that evening. We went into the pit until the first performance was
over, and then we went into the boxes. I do not think that we
discovered any person in the pit on that night we spolke to. I
do not recollect to what part of the boxes we went to see the
after piece. The theatre was very much crowded on that
night. W e were part of the time in the second tier, and part in
the third tier. The theatre was not so crowded but that we could
get a seat in the second or third tier. 1 saw no person in the
third tier that I was acquainted with. I knew Helen Jewett
by sight. She was at the theatre on that night.  I saw Robinson talk to her on that nighllt; we had met on formnler nccasions, to go to the theatre, at Mr. Parker's coffee room, in Jolln
street. I cannot say whether he had on a cloak, on the night we
were at the theatre. I have seen him wear a cloak. I cannot say
the precise number of times I have seen him wear one. I think
not as many as a dozen times.. The first time that I saw him with
one was during the winter, when the snow was on the ground.
I think that I have seen him wear a cloak in the day time
once. The one that he wore was a blue cloth cloak. It had a
collar and facings of black velvet. There were cords and tassels
attached to it.
[The cloak found in the rear of Mrs. Townsend's house on
the morning of the murder was here shown to the witness, and
he stated that it was in every respect of similar appearance to
that worn by Robinson, but he would not positively swear that
it was the same.]
Examination continued —I have never seen the cloak that Robinson wore since the murder of Helen Jewett. I do not know
what became of his cloak. I have been out sleigh-riding with




THE MURDER OF HELEN  JEWETT.            201
Robinson on two occasions. The first time we went to
Jamaica, L. I., and the second time to Harlem. I do not know
that he had a quarrel with any one either of these times. He
wore his cloak on both occasions. I believe Robinson had a
night key to get into his boarding-house. All the boarders had
night keys. I think, but I am not certain that I opened the
door when he came home from the theatre, on the night of the
seventh of April.. I have been at the house kept by Rosina
Townsend. I was there on the evening the murder was committed. I went there in company with Mir. James Teer. I do
not know by what name Mir. Teer was known there. I never,
to the best of my recollection, heard him called Frank Rivers.
A female let us in there, but I don't know her name. Ii did not
then know Mrs. Townsend. I had been to her house twice before
the murder of IIelen Jewett. I know Elizabeth Salters by
tame. I saw her on that night. I saw her in the entry. I did
not speak to her. Mr. Teer went in with me. lie had some
conversation with her in the entry.
Mr. Phenix asked the witness what the conversation was, and
Mr. Price rose to object to it.  Ile said that a conversation
between Miss Salters and Sir. Teer would hardly be evidence.
Mr. Phenix withdrew the interrogation, and the examination of
the witness proceededMr. Teer had spoken to Miss Salters about ten minutes. We
did not got go upstairs. During one of our sleighrides, Robinson
informed me that he had lost one of the tassels of his cloak. On
the night that the murder was committed we took tea at our
bo:lrding-house at about seven o'clock —that was the hour we
generally took it. I did not wear an overcoat on- tile night I
went to the theatre with Robinson. Robinson did not stop any
where before we went into the theatre. We both went directly
into the pit.
Thomas Garland, examined by  nMr. Maxwell, for the
defence-I am one of the city watchmen. I belong to Captain
I-all's watch. I was stationed on the corner of Thomas and
Chapel streets on the Saturday night preceding the'discovery of
the murder of HIelen Jewett. I was on my post from two to
four o'clock on tile Sunday morning. About twenty minutes
past eight o'clock, as near as I can tell, I heard an alarm proceeding from a house in Thomas street, between Chapel and
Hudson streets. I proceeded to the house, and found it to be




202               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
the house of Mrs.Townsend. Not over one minute elapsed from
the time of my first hearing the alarm before I got to the house.
To the best of my knowledge I was the first watchman who
entered that house. Mrs. Townsend told me that no other
watchman had been there. When I first entered the house l
saw two men in the room on the right of the entry in company
with Mrs. Townsend. From their attitude and appearance, and
from their being in their shirt sleeves, I took it that the men
were going to fight, and I went to the front door and gve an
alarm rap.  When I first entered the front door:Mrs. Townsend
told me that there was a girl murdered in the house, and the
room was set on fire. Before I went up stairs I got the assistance
of two watchmen, and we all three went up stairs. I went up
a-head. This was about ten minutes after my first entering the
house. When I got upstairs, I caught a young man in my arms
who was standing near the door of IHelen Jewett's room. lie
was undressed. It was dark when I caught him in my arms.
After I llad been in the house, I saw a female come out of one of:
the up stairs rooms, having in her hand a hat and band-box;
sh-> wvent downstairs with them, and I did not see anything more
of her. or of the young man that I got hold of. As soon as I and
the o!:ler watchmen.got into the house I told Mrs. Townsend
to lock the door, and let no one comnein or go out but'watchmen. At this tine there were four men in the house. Shortly
afterwards I discovered that the first man whom I had seen had
left the house. A number of watchmen at that time had come
into the house. After leaving the room where the murdered
girl was lying, I went into the yard and looked into the cistern.
The lid of the cistern was open. There was a step-ladder standing by the cistern. The cistern is not in the rear of the yard, it
is close by the back of the house. If the step-ladder was found
in the rear of the yard in the morning, it must have been removed there after I saw it. It was very damp and cold this
morning. I found t!he murdered girl lying upon her stomach,
with her back up, with a large cut in the side of her head.
From the time that I entered Mrs. Townsend's up to the time
that I enteredI Helen Jewett's room, it must have been fifteen or
twenty minutes. I was the first person that threw  water upon
the fire to extinguish the flames. I called for water when I got
in. There was no appearance of any water having,previously,
been thrown upon the fire, or any other attempt having been
made to extinguish It.




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.               2 C3
Cross-examined by Mr. Phenix —I was on the first tour oft
watch on the night of the murder.' It was a dalrk, wet andt
drizzly night, but not very cold. I am not positive whllether it
rained or merely sprinkled on that night.  Mrs. Townsend
was standilngat the door of the room on the right side of the
entry when 1 went in, and the two men were standing inside.
I merely thought that they were going to fillt because they
had their coats off.- I donl't think that it was one of tlhose very
men tlhat fetched water for me; I think it was a female who
brought me the water; I don't know that it was Misr. Townsend; water was first brought up in a pitc!er, afterwards in
different description' of vessels. When I went up stairs, Mir.
Hall followed me with a lighlt, and Mlrs. Townsend f,,llowed
him. I only saw two men in the house when I first went inthen I saw the other in the entry. I took hold of thle iman in
the entry and did not let go of him until both lie and Mrs.
Townsend told me that lie did not belong to Helen Jewett's
room. After that I f,und another man, making foir inm all,
that I found there. I don't know where they all went to or
what timte they got away.  I did not see tile young man that
I found in the entry after I let him go. I did not,top in thle
room where the fire was btrning until I thlluglht it wad out.
Wlhile I was in the room there was a handkercllit!f found by
Mr. Collyer. It was between thle pillow and bolster of thle bed
upon which the murdered girl was laid. It was hlanded to ne;
I kept it in my possession, except silowing it to a person who
was standing near me. At this time some girls hlad come iiito
the room, and one of them remarked " this is Frank's lhandkerchief " I ultimately gave it to MIr. Noble, thle assistant captain
of tile watch. The step-ladder that I saw in the yard is one
of a similar description to those generally used in houses.
Jared L. MIoore, examined for the defence, by Mr. Miaxwell
-I  am  a jeweller and watchmnlker; I received a watchl
this morning from Mr. Hoxie. Thlat watch was boul ht of m11
by MIr. Iloxie in Marclh, 1834. [The watch was here exhibited, and it was identified as being the salne that M1r. Furlong
swore he saw in possession of the piisoner, on the evenimng of
the 9th of April last.]
[MIr. Tloxie was called upon the stand, and lie swore that
the watch referred to and exhibited by N3r. MIorri1l, was thle
same that lie had bought for the prisoner at the bar.]




204               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
James Tew, examined by Mr. Maxwell, for the defenceI am a clerk. Have been a clerk for four years. Boarded at
the same house with the prisoner, No. 42 Dey street. We
boarded there at the time of the murder of HIelen Jewett.
Saw him at his boarding house on the Saturday night preceding the discovery of the murder. We had tea together about
seven o'clock, and we went out about half an holir afterwards,
Iwalked out in company with Mr. MIoulton and Robillson was
with Mr. Tyrrell.  We walked a little ahead of them and we
missed theln on thle corner opposite the American Museum.
ile wore a cloak on tlhat niglht. He had had that cloak about
two montlhs before that. I always understood that he got the
cloak from a young man named William Gray, as security for
money tilat lie had loa:ned to Gray. On Saturtlay night, the
9tll of April, I returned to bed about a quarter past eleven
o'clock. I occupied a front room on the first floor of the house,
No. 42 IDey street; Robinson was my room mate, and he oc
cvlpied tlle same bed with me.  We occupied the same bed
togetler on the Saturday night preceding tlce murder. I went
to bed first; I awoke during the night. Cannot say wlhat
time it was when I awoke.  I-lad no light, or means of judging except from mere guess. As well as I can tell, it must
have been between one and two o'clock.  I then found the
prisoner at the bar inl bed witll me. It was not at all unusual
for me to go to bed before him.  A second time during the
night, 1 awoke between the time that I first awoke, anL the
tllme that the officers came to our roomn in the morning. 1 think
it must have been between three and lour c'clock when I awoke
the secoiid tiine. I did not look at my watch and had no
means of judging except from guess.  Robinson was in bed
when I awoke the second tine. 1 was awakle wlien the officer
came to our room in tlie morning. R!,binson had a particular
place for putting his clothing. IIe generally hung them over
the testor of the bed. I saw: nothing unusual in their arrangement or tle manner in which tlley were laid when the officers
came illto our roomin. On tlie Sunday morning I hleard a knock
at the street door. It was an unusuially lhard knock. The servant went to the door, and on its being opened I heard some
inquire it Robinson was within. As RPobinson, as I thought,
was asleep, I got up and opened our roomn door, and told the
servant that if iny one wanted to see Robinson to tell them to




THE IMURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.            205
Come up to our room, as lie was ill bed. Two men then came
ill, and as I was getting into bed again, I shook Robinson and
told himn that two persons wished to see him.  Ile awoke and
they asked him if his name was Robinson, and he replied that
his name was Robinson. They then told him that they had
something to qay to him, arid he asked them if it was
necessary for him to get up; if they could not say what they
had to say to him while lie was in bed.  One of them replied
that lie wished to see hi'm in private. Ile got up, partly dressed
himself, and weni into the ball from the room. Ile went into
the hall with the persons who were there. Did not hear anything that was said on that occasion. Cannot say how the counversation was conducted. Robinson returned to the room and
finished dressing himself. After dressing himself he tbld me
that the men wanted him to go with them, and he asled me
to go with him. I replied that I would go ii lie wisled it,
and he then;tsked the men if I might go, anld they said that
tl-ey had not any objection.  Before I got mut of my bed, I
called hlln to the side of the bed and asked him ill a wllhsper,
wqIat was the matter. Hei replied that ne did pnot know.  il;s
reply was in a mud voice and he said nothing to m13 that any
person could rot Iear. From thle t'me that I first awoke 1him,
to the time we went out, I did not notice a'y confusion or
emotion in him different from anything that I have always
noticed in his conduct. We proceeded with thle men in a ctarriage which they had at the door to the house of Mrs. Townsend. As ve went up Dev street into Broadway, there was a
general conversation amongst us.  When I get into the carrlagre it was raining very fast. I remarked that the rain would
clear the ice out of the river. Robl-inson I think, but I am i)ot
certain, Joinled in this conlversation.  Up to thie time of our
arriving at _Mrs. Townsend's, I witnessed nothing in his conduct indicative of guilt. I remained at Mrs. Townsend's house
until al)onlt twelve o'clock. Believe lie was taken up into the
room wlhere Ilelen Jewett was laid, but I am not certain of
this. I did not see him immnediately after he saw the body.
By the Judge-I think Robinson was asleep when the officers
came to our room.
By MIr Maxwell —When we took tea on the night before
the murder, Rohlbinson and I and Mr. Moulton made arrangements to ride out on horseback betfore breakfast on the follow



206               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
ing mornlnin.  The reason we did not go was that the morning
was wet. I got up shortly before the time proposed to go out,
and finding it wet, I told Robinson that Nwe could not go   Ia.
agreed with 1e and said that it would be of no use to awakh
/Moulton.  At tie house of Mrs. Townsend, Mr. Noble asked
PRobinson if some white marks which he observed on his ipau.
taloons were whitewash, and Robinson told him  "no, that iL
was paint."
[At this stage of the examination, it being half past three
o'clock the court took a recess-]
At about three quarters past four o'clock, the court aga'n
nmet in session, and the proceedings were resuimed by the cantinuation of thle examination of James Tew by MIr. AMaxwell.
The -itness c. ntinued: Was at thle house of Rosina To vnsend
on tlle Saturday nilght precedllig the discovery of the murder
of H-elen Jewett. From the tiine that I lost sigl(t of the prisoner, "ear the American Museum', on the evening, up to the
time that I found himn in bedt, at one or two o'clock in tlhe
morning, I did not see or meet him.
By thle Judge-Was not awake when the prisoner came in
on the Saturday night, nor did he awake me. Have:io posi.
tive means of knlloing whllat hour it was, when. I awoke.
When I awoke, I spoke to thle pri. oner, and asked him what
time he camne in.  lte replied between eleven and twelve
o'clock.
Cross-exarnined by Mr. Phenix-I was examined before thle
coroner's inquest, between ten and eleven o'clock in the morning ~
I was also examined before the Grand Jury. The prispner
had, I believe, a night key, to get into the house at any titie
in the night he pleased. I am  not positive of this. I hlave
known him to come home frequently after I went to bed, and
I suppose, after other persons went to led. I have known thle
prisoner to come home late at night, but I cannot say that he
was in the hlabit of it.
[Mir. Phenix here inquired as to thle general habits of the
prisoner, but Mr. Maxwell objected to any sucll questions being
put —no proof of good character having as yet, being offered
for the defence.-The court sustained the objection, and the
exalmination was esiumed.]
W\itniess resulmed —I  cannot swear positively that the prisoner ever had a mlght key, but it is my ilmpressloa that lie had.




TT    n MURDER GOF lHELEN JEWETT.         207
I think tlhe prisoner wore a bli:ck frock coat on the Saturday
righlt, but I-am not quite certain.  I do not know positively
what sort of pantaloons he tihen had on. When tile office'
came to our room  in the morning, he put on a pair of drab
mixed pantaloons; I am not certain that they we'e the same
)pantaloons that he hlad on when I left' him  at the American
]iMuse lun.
By the Jdge-I'did lnot observe, on Saturday nigllt, that
hobtis(:):,n liatd any paint or wlhitewash upon his pantaloons; on
StaturIlay night, I did nrot observe any sucll thling, because I
(ld rinot nrtice llis pantaloons.  I did not observe anything of
the kinld before we got to Mrs. Townsend's on thle Sunday morning, nor afterwards, until it was spoken of by Mr. Noble. Mr.
Noble asked R,,binson, wlhat is that on  o our pantaloons; is it
wlhitewaslh?  My attention, was then called to it. Think he
then had a frock ot surtout coat on. It is Iny impression that
it was a do,ui,le breasted coat,  with two rows of buttons in
front:  WTlen Mr. Noble cal ed Rlbinson's attention to his
)antaloons, I olserved tllere was a white mark on thle left side
of the right leg, below thle knee. Tlhat, at all events, is my
impression. I was therl bult a few'feet fiom  the prisoner.
Cainnot say whether that was bcfore or a'ter I wai examined
by the coroner s jury   Did not discover any wlhite appearance
on the other part ot his pantaloons.  Did not examine any
other part ot b'.s pantaloons except that which I have spoken
of  Callnnot say how long I remained with the prisoner at Mrs.
Townsend's after I observed the white upon the pantaloons;
perhaps half-an-houlr.  When I parted with the prisoner on
tIlat morning, 1 left him at thle house, in Thomas street.  I went
and spoke of t!e prisoner a.ter it had been before the coroner's
Jury.  Was before thle coroner's jury half-an-hour, perhaps it
m11lght be longer. I cannot say how long I was with the pris-.
oner after 1 had been before the coroner s jury, perhaps threequarters of an hour; it might be longer. Don't know whether
I o!hserved the whiteness npon the pantaloons of the prisoner,
befotre or after the co roner's inquest.  Did not call the attent1oll of the prisoner to the white upon the p.lntaloons at aly
time that I was there.  I never stated that the white upon the
pr:soner's pantaloons was paint. I have never said, at any
time, that Robinson told me he came home at a different time
fioml what I now state. I hlavq not sworn before the Grand




203              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
Jury, that Robinson told me he came home at twelve or halfpact twelve o'clock, on Saturday night. Cannot say how often,
prior to this affair, I had been to Mrs. Townsend's house; I had
been there several times. Was in Mrs. Townsend's about two
months before the Saturday niglht preceding the murder. Was
known at that house as Frank Rivers. I was frequently called
by the persons in tile house as the cousin of the other Frank
Rivers, (the prisoner at the bar). When I was so called, I
never denied it. When I was there on Saturday preceding the
murder, I neither saw her, nor made any inquiry after Helen
Jewett. I saw no cloak in our bed room on the mnorning that
the prisoner was arrested of the description that he was accustomed to wear. Wlien westarted from our boarding house together, on the Saturday night, the prisoner did not tell me where
he was going. When he left home on the Saturday evening, it is
my impression that Robinson had a quantity of cigars i i his
room; I cannot tell how many he had. He and Moulton had a
box between them. I cannot say whether or not, there were any
left in the box on the Saturday afternoon. I think I have seen
Mr. Robinson write; I cannot say how often. I am not acquainted with his handwriting; could not tell his handwriting
from his cousin's-Mr. B. F. Robinson-the young man who
has gone to England. Cannot exactly say whether Robinson
kept a journal or not.
[Mir. Maxwell here rose and stated that he thought the District Attorney had disclaimed any intention to go into the subject matter of the letters, papers, books and nmemorandum
found in the burea'i and trunk of the prisoner after his arrest.
Mr. Phenix said that if it displeased the gentleman-and
rather than they should think tliat their client liad not had a
fair trial, and had not been liberally dealt with —le would
forego any interrogations in reference to these matters.]
Cross-examination continued-The prisoner generally wore a
hat in the day time, and a cap at night. I think I have seen
him wear a hat in the night time. Think when I spoke to
Robinson on the Sunday'morning about Its b-lnig a wet morning, and aboat our being consequently unable to ride out, as
agreed on, that he was only about haif awake. Did rot hear
any charge made against the prisoner whllle in the carriage, ol
our way frorma Dey street to Rosina Townsend's. Dad not hear
-Robinson say to the police officer while in the carriage, that he




THE MURDER OF HETLEN JEWETT.           209
was at home, at his own house, on Saturday night between
nine and ten o'clock. I had no conversation with Robinson
before the officers came in thle morning.  Did not go to sleep
again after getting up and looking at the weather.
By Mr. Maxwell-On the Saturday night preceding the
murder, I went to Mrs. Townsend's between nine and ten
o'clock. I should think it wat near ten o'clock.
William B. Townsend, examined by Mr. Price-I was foreman of the Grand Jury that presented a bill of indictment
against thle prisoner, for the murder of Rlelen Jewett. I remember that Mr. Brink was examined as witness. I remember
asking Mr. Brink, (and told him to be very particular in his
answers) —if, when he first accosted the prisoner, he gave any
indication of embarrassment or guilt, or if he didt lythllng that
made any impression upon his tnlnd, In relation to wlether he
was guilty or Innocent. Ile said that while in the coach, after
turning up Broadway, he told him that a dreadful crime L aft
been committed. I asked him what impression, in telling nim
this, had been made upon his, hBrlnk's) nlld. lie said in  e'
first place, his impression was, that be was guilty —in the next
place, he thought he was innocent; but, on the whole, after
mature reflection, he thought be was gullty  I think I cannot
be mistaken that this Was his answer  I read a report of Mr,
Brlnk's testimony in one ot thle papers. I'cannot say which,
ana I thought there was some discrepancy between what he
then gave, ana what he gave before the Grand Jury.
Cross-examined by Mr Phenix —  don't remember that
Brink swore before the Grand Jury, that Robinson did not betray any emotion of guilt until passing, the police office. In
reference to the time that Robinson went home, and: went to
bed, on the Saturday night. I perceive, on now referring to
my. notes, that Mr. Tew, the witness who las Just left the
stand, swore before the Grand Jury, that he went to bed between eleven and twelve o'clock, and that he (Tew,) and Robinson went asleep together, shortly afterwards.
John Blake, treasurer of Park Theatre, examined by Mr.
Maxwell-The Maid of dJudah, and the Dum:b Belle were the
pieces performed at the Park Theatre on the night of Thursday, the 7th of April. Tlhebe pieces occupy about four hours
in their performance.  The Woods sung in the Opera of
the Maid of Judah, anId it occup;ed a little longer when they




210'EMARKABLE TRIALS.
performed, than on ordinary occasions, as their songs were freqnently encored.
William HI. Lane examined-I am a city watchman; have not
been examined before in this case, nor have I until to day, heard
any part of the proceeding. I was on my round in the neighborhood of Thomas street, on the nighlt of the 9th of April.
Heard the alarm rap given by a watchman, from the house of:
MrAs. Townsend, No. 41. Immediately went tlhere, and found
several persons there. Mrs. Townsend said, in the course of
some conlversation on the subject, that she believed Frank Rivers was the person who had been with Miss Jewett on the
night before. Mr. Collyer asked her if she knew him, and she
said that she did not, only by his voice, as he always came into'the house with his face muffled up in his cloak. There was
some other conversation between Collyer and Mrs. Townsend.
She said that there was a bottle of champagne called for. I
don't know the precise time that she said it was called for.
She said she carried it to the room door, and delivered it to the
girl (Helen Jewett). I thitik she said she saw somebody in bed
when sle went up with the champagne. She said that she
thought Frank Rivers had murdered the girl, but that she did
not know him, nor would she know him if she met him il the
street, as lie always came to the house closely muffled up. The
first time that I received a subcena as a witness in this case
was since four o'clock to-dav.
Cross examined by Mr. Phenix —Mr. Collyer served the
subpoena upon me.  He told me that hle had'been examined as a witness to-day. He did not tell me what he said.
Ile asked tne if I remembered what Rosina Townsend said
when he interrogated her. Told him, that I thought I did
recollect in part. He did not tell me that she said she would
not know Frank Rivers by daylight. Cannot say whether she
did say so or not. Mir. Collyer did not say anything to me that
Mrs. Townsend told him anything about a light in the entry.
hIeard her tell him that there was a lamp in the entry hanging
up, by which she let the person in on Saturday night. She
stated to him that she found a light standing in the room at
the end of the passage, about three o'clock in the morning. It
was a glass lamp. Wasin m the back parlor of Mrs. Townsend's
hlouse, and 1 discovered a pier table there. - There was nothing
said that I know of, about the pier table in connection with the




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.             211
lampland light. I cannot say whether or not Mrs. Townsend
told Myers tlat she saw a man in Helen Jewett's bed when
she went up stairs with the champagne; btut it is my imrpression
that she did tell hirn so.  Cannot recollect that she said
whether or not the person was leanings on his elbow in tile bed,
or that he had a book in hlis hland. Do not think that she said
anythling about the door of the room opening towards the wall
when she went up with the champagne. Forget who was in
the room besides myself when Mr. Collyer and Mirs. Townsend
had this conversation.
By Mr. Maxwell-Mr.; Burill saw me at Mrs. Townsend's,
but I don't know that he is acquainted with.me. I went with
Mr. Collyer f)r Mr. Brink. Mr. Brink must then know that I
was there. I was -ot not examined before the Grand Jury.
Mr. Collvei, recalled by Mr. Maxwell-I was not called before the coroner's inquest or the Grand Jury.  Ir.. Brink saw
me at Mrs. Townsend's, but I don't know that lie knew Ile.
Mr. Brink recalled, by Mr. Maxwell-I have a pair of vases
in mv house. I bought them two years ago. I bid for a pair
Eof vases at Mrs. Townsend's, and bought them: but I bonglt
them for another man.  I bought them for Mr. Tompkins, the
police officer. I cannot say why I forgot the vases where I
gave my testimony on Sattlrday. I did not think of them,
on Saturday, that's certain. I bought the clock in my own
house, and got Welch to pay for it. I think I told the auctioneer that Welch and I and Rosina would settle for the things
that we bought.
Alderman Benson-Now recollect, sir, you are under your
oath. Did you, -or did you not, pay for the vases that you
bouglt?
Witness-Upon my honor, sir, I cannot recollect.
Alderman Benson-Is it not a fact, sir, that there, was an
understanding  between you and Welch and Rosina, that you
were not to pay for anything you bought at the sale?
- Witness-There was no such understanding that I know of,
sir.
Alderman Benson-Now, sir, you have sworn that you paid
for the clock; did you do so?
Witness-It was settled for, sir, by Welch; you had better
ask hllim about it.
Mr. Maxwell-No. sir. we want an answer from you.




21 2             REMARKABLE TRIALS.
Witness-All I can say, sir, is that all I got I expect was
settled for.
By Mr. Phenix —I and Welch were employed to attend Mrs.
Townsenu's house at the sale, and one ori two days aftter the
murder.
Rosina Townsend, recalled by Mr. Maxwell —There was a
clock sold at my sale for thirty dollars-. ]Mr. Brink, I believe,
bought it. There were two vases which he also bought. I think
for eight dollars. Mr. Welch boughlt some small pictures. The
auctioneer never received any money for them.  They settled
with me for them. I don't believe thley ever paid me any
money, but we squared accounts any way. I gave them  five
dollars a day for their attendance and services.
By Mr. Phenix-I had officers in attendance at my house
because of some threatening letters that I received,I know not
from whom, inreference to my giving testimony against Mr.
Robinson for the murder of Helen Jewett. I gave them five
dollars a day, and would lhave given them more, if I could
have afforded it. Sometimes they were at the house both
day and night, and sometimes all night.
By Alderman Banks-I do not consider that five dollars per
day was too much for the services of the officers. I would have
given more if I could have afforded it.
Dennis Brink, recalled by Mr. 3Maxwell-I did say that I
paid the auctioneer, or settled with him, for the clock that I
bought at Mrs. Townsend's. I now wish to correct myself.
Alderman Benson-You now wish to correct yourself. I will
strike what you have said out of my notes.
William Schrueman, the coroner, recalled by ajuror —-When:
the cloak was found in the rear of Mrs. Townsend's yard, it was
damp, as if it had been lying upon the ground somne time.
By Mr. Maxwell —It had evidently been on the ground,
from its dampness, more than half an hour. It must have been
there an hour and a half.
By Mr. Phenix-I heard of a watch and gold chain having
been found in Helen Jewett's room, and I got them from Mrs.
Townsend. I have a clerk; his name is George Runyan. I don't
know whether or not he is here to-day. He attended with me
the coroner's inquest upon the body of Helen Jewett. There
was a box of books and papers brought for safe keeping to me,
by one of the police officers, from Rosina Townsend.




THE MURDER OF HELEN  JEWETT.            213
The counsel for the defence here rested the case for the prisoner.
Mr. Phllenix resumed for the prosecution, and called Daniel
Lyons, the keeper of Bellevue Prison, who testified as lollows,I remember Mr. Furlong s calling at Bellevue Prison to see the
prisoner. He told me the object of his visit, and said that he
suspected that he would be a witness for him if he was the same
man that he supposed lie was. Ile said that he had read a description of him in the newspapers; and he expected that he was
the same young man who had been in his (M5r. Furlong's) store,
on the Saturday nigjlt preceding the murder. lie said that he
(Robinson) had been in his store, and that they conmpared
watches at ten o'clock. When he saw Robinson, he went up to
him, and reminded him that he knew him; said that he had
seen him in his store on the Saturday night before the murder,
and remembered his buying a half a dollar's worth of cigars.
Robinson said that he remembered it, and he thanked Mr. Furlong for the trouble that he had taken in his behalf, for the purpose of identifying h m, and for his good wishes. Mr. Furlong,
on leaving Robinson. told me that lie was the man lie had expected, and that he should volunteer his testimony to Mr. Iloxie.
I remember on a second occasion, MI. Furlong coining up; but
i don't know who iet huln in to see Robinson. Think I heard
something about an order from Mr Hoxic' but I never heard
anything said about rejecting an order for admission to the prisoner, because it was from a Whig.  Robinson 11id hlis head
shaved while he was in prison. The lirt, time that I noticed
anything particular about Robinson's head wa.M when a young
lady was with him, and she said Richald, or Dick, how thin your
hiter is getting bellind. I looked at his head then, and observed
a baid spot on the back of his head.
By Mr Hoffman-Know that previous to Robinson -having
his head shaved, his hair came out continually, and I believe
he was advised by Doctor Alien, a surgeon attached to the
prison, to have his head shlaved. I did not find out that abarber
had been called in until he got half throughl with tile operation,
and I was then ver'y angry about it, and made some inquiries
in relation to it. Thought it.was calculated to injure me very
seriously. I did not see the bald place in Robinson's lead
until nearly a week after his arrest, and I know that when you
(Mr. Hoffaian) heard of it you were very angry, fearing that




214                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
{t would militate against the interests of the prisoner, ana said
that nothing shlould be done without consulting counsel.
By Mr. Phenix-I donl't exactly know  who the girl wae
that was with the prisoner, when she remarked upon the bald'
spot on his head. Shle observed, after noticing the place, " never
mind Dick, i will, pnt.a patch upon it some of these days."
[At tile conclusion of tis witness's testimony, Mr. I-Ioxie,
got upon the witness stand, and'addressed the coult in a brief
and enlergetic address, entirely exonerating Mr. Lyonls, and hlisdeputy keepers frlon any imlputation as regarlded an alleged
want of courtesy to Iiiin, and thle unhappy young man at the;
bar, during the incarceration of tle latter; at thle same time
testitfying to the uniform politeness, killdne-s and attention as
far as their conduct had fa!len withi,, his observation.  rilere
was a disposition among the audience to applaud his remarks
at thle conclusion of his address, but the court immediately put
a stop to the plaudit.]
ilenry Burnham, examined by Mr. Phenix, for the prosecu
tion —  am deputy keeper for Bellevue. I know Mr Furlong.
Ile wls admitted by me to the prison to see Mr. R blnson.
W as tle'e when he camle; Robinson had been at Bellevue thlree
or lour weeks when Mr. Furlong first came to the prison:HIe did not bring any order or request tot admission when lie
came thl;t  know ot.  lbe said he came to see if he could recognise Mr. Robinson as the person who was in his store buyingCigars on the ScLtrday iiinmedlately prior to the murder.
Went with himto Robinson's cell. Robinson was lying down,
and as sooII as we went in, he got Ulp.  Mr. Fulion,  said to
him, Ihow do yoa do, Mr. Robinso),, and lie answered, how; do
youl d,, sir, aid. shook hands withl him    Mr. Fu1long  then
tol I liimn that lie thought lie had seen him in his store on the
Saturday before the murder.  Robinson replied that if he had
anything to say lie had better speak to his counsel.  Nothing
furtlher of any importanrce was said by' either of them   I think
Ilmpietioned1 these circumstances to one or two of the "police
offiAer-. I think I saw Mr. Furlong at-the prison about a week
af.er the t i re ]be fi st called.
Cros::-exa;Lninnd by Mr. IHoffman —Knew Mr. Furlong at the
time l]e came to the prison. He s:iid lie wanted to see if Mr.
Robinson would recognise hitn. Did inot notice any bald place
on the prisoner's head. It there had been a bald place, 1 mnus.




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.              215
have been it. Almost four weeks after he came to the prison,
his hair began to colne out, especially on the left side of his
head, and when Dr. Allen passed his hands through his hair it
came out in clusters. I cannot be mistaken about their not
being a bald place on the back of the prisoner's head. I have
seen him staildbig up and lying down, and almost all positions,
and have beenl close behind himn, and I have never witnessed
anytlhing of the kind. It is about three week; sil;ce Robinson's
head was shaved.
By a Juror-1 have the utmost confidence in Mr Furlong's
integrity and oath I have kniown him for eight years, and 1
never knew anytlllng of 1111i but good.
At the close ot this wltness'b examination, tle luror who
proposed the last material quest(ion stated that the object of his
asking it was merely to satisfy some of the jurors who did not
know MIr Furlong as well as some of tlle others.
Mr. Phenix now proposed to read tlhe four letters tllht haid
been proved, as having been found in Helen Jewetts  room,
written by the prlsoner at the bar to the de(eeased.  Two oc
the letters were dated in August, 1836, one without date. and
one dated in November,
Mr. Iflofinan objected to tlhe letters being read on strictiy
legal and technical grounds, but the court overruled the objec
tlon, and Mr. AMorris was about to read them, when
Mr. MiIaxwell rose and presented to the court an additional
objection to their being read, stating that the obvious intent of
submittinlg them as evidence against the prisoner was to sliow
that lie liad at some distant period entertained malignant feelings towards the deceased, and Ilad, on one or two occa.ions
threatened her witll injury. The learned counsel said that if
such tllreats and such letters had not been written immediately
antecedeu!t to the murder they ought not to be made use of to
prejudice tile lild of the jury against the unfortunate accused,
and he appealed to the well known magnanimous and benevolent leelillgs of the District Attorney, and to hlis inercy and
sense of justice, to withdraw the propositi, n he had ilmade.
Mr. Pllenix replied tlhat it was his sense of ppublic justice,
and in obedience to the oath lhe had takel as attorney for the
people, that lie was induced to urge the proposition he lad made,
and he did so with feelings towards the unhappy lrisoner at
the bar, far fromi being harsh, unfriendly or unkind. Inasmuch,




2 16              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
however, said the learned gentleman, as there were some circumstances detailed in the letters referred to which related to
other persons entirely unconnected with the prisoner. and an
exposure of which perhaps be calculated to do some serious injury, he would, betfore insisting upon their being read, submit
them to the court, for their erasure of any particular which should,
by them, be deemed as irrelavent, and not pertinent to the is:
sue on trial.
At the conclusion of the learned counsel's address, he handed
the letters in question for the perusal of the court, and while
the judges were deliberating upon the disposition they should
make of them.
Messrs. Maxwell and Price, alternately rose and addressed
the court in opposition to their admissibility as testimony against
the accused, principally upon the ground that they were calcu
lated to prejudice his general character in the":6tlmation of the
jury, whereas, no attempt had been made by the counsel in his
behalf to sustain his good character and reputation.
The learned gentlemen were replied to in a forcible address,
by the District Attorney, at the conclusion of which Judge
Edwards delivered the opinion of the court, stating that the
majority of his associates were of opinion that the letters were
not admissible.
[It being now a quarter past nine o'clock, the court was adjourned until ten o'clock next morning.]
FIFTH DAY.
Soon after the judges took their seats next morning, Mr.
Phenix rosec and stated to the court that since the adjournment
on the previous evening, he had maturely reflected on the decicion of their honors in reference to the admissibility or inad
rr.ises bllity, as evidence against the prisoner, of the four letters
which had been proved to be in the handwriting of the latter,
and which were found in the room of helen Jewett after her
murder, and he was firmly and decidedly ot the Impressionwith all due deference to the opinion of the court, that the decision which had been given was founded on misapprehension
or error. One of the letters (dated November 14th, 1835), was,
said the learned counsel, of the utmost importance as regarded
its connection with some material evidence that had been al



THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.              217
ready adduced for the prosecution, and he begged, therefore,
that the court would reconsider the proposition that had been
made, and deliberate upon it, and permit him, at all events, to
introduce this document.
Mr, Maxwell (in the absence of his associate counsel, who had
not yet arrived in court), said that to obviate any further difficulties in reference to this proffered testimony, and to avoid
further discussion, he would, in behalf ot the prisoner, consent
to the reading of the letter which the gentleman deemed to be
so important, it the gentleman would, on his tart, stipulate not
to offer or read any others, and would permit the counsel for
the defence to make use ot the other three letters if they should
deem it necessary or proper.  The District Attorney replied
that he would willingly consent to the proposition of the learned
gentleman, and the court gave its consent to this arrangement.
Mr. Phenix -then read the letter to which he had reference.
It was addressed to Miss Helen Jewett. at Mrs. Berry's. Duane
street, and was evidently written in a disguised hand, notwith
standing that it was identified to be the prisoner's writing. At
that tinle the deceased generally went by the name of Maria Ben
son, although she was known to some persons by the name of
Helen Jewett. The following is the letter, precisely as it was
written, with the exception of a few alterations in the style of
punctuation:" Miss Maria-I think our intimacy is now old enough for both
of us to speak plain. I am glad you used that expression in your
note yesterday-" And as long as you pursue a gentlemanly
course of conduct," &c., &c. 1 don't know on wMhat footing I
stood with you. Any deviation from the line of conduct which
you think I ought to pursue, and I am' blown. All of your professions, oaths, an,d asurances, are set aside to accommodate
your new feelings towards mnc. Even this very letter will be
used as a witness against me to avenge a forced insult, received
at my hands Poor Frank has a thousand insurmountable difficultiev to encounter. Banded about like a dog, who as he becomes useless, is cast aside, no longer worthy of a single thought
except to be carsed. No sooner extricated from one difficulty
than he is plunged into ruin and disgrace by one who he had
confidence in, one who professed attachment more sincere than
any other, who swore to be true and' faithful, and let all others
be false, she would be my friend till death parted us. Oh, has
it come to this, and she the first to forsake me, whom I so ar4ently endeavored to gain her lasting regard and love; then




218               REMIARKABLE ~RIA7LS.
are all vows false, or Frank is indeed altered. Hie has but two
wishes left, either of which he would embrace, and thank his
Heavenly Father, with a'l the ardo' of' his soul, death, or a
complete alteration and make me what I once was-'tis strange
yet'tis true.'After reflecting on our situation all night, I arose this morning
feverish and almost undecided, and so ill as to be able to attend
to but a portion of my business of the day. I have now come to
this conclusion, that it is best for us both to dissolve all connection.
I hope you will colnccde  in this opinion, for you well
know that our meetings are far from  being as sweet and
pleasant as they once were, and moreover I concluded from
the terms of your lhast no'e, that you would not regret
sueh a step. I ain afraid It will be the only way for me to
pursue a gentlemanly conllse of conduct. In my opinion,
my conduct, the last time I was at your house, was far from
being gentlemanly or respectful. I belhaved myself as I should
never do agaln, let the circumstances be what they might,
even it I had to prevent it by never putting my feet into your
house again. I was very sorry for it, and now I teg your
pardon. I have done to you as I have never done to anybody
e. se (In the case where other gentlemen are concerned). ihzMs,
1 holpe, will be forgiven, as there's no harm done, and let the.
circumstances justify the act. HI., as we are about to part, at
low me to tell you ny genuine sentiments.'i 1 have always made it a point to study your character and
disposition; I admired it more than any other female's I evcr
knew; and so deep an impression has it made on my heart. that
never will the name and kindness of Maria  G  Benaon be for
gotten by me; but for the present we must be as strangers  I
shall call on you to-night to return the miniature and tiler ask
you to part with that which is no longer welcome. That you
should think I would use subterfuge to obtain the cursed picture,
wounded my feelings to the quick, for God knows I am not, nor
ever was, as mean as that.  Your note of Wednesday I never
received, that I amnz aware of. I would not insult you by leaving
yoot to infer that another will receive my visits, for "Pius" I
shall remain.  Now I have only to say, do not betray me, but
forget me; 1 am no longer wortlhy of you.
"Ne ex memonria a mitte et ero tuus serius.
" espectfully,
"FRANKr.' November 14, 1835."
After the reading ot this letter, Mr. Phenix called as a witness for tile prosecution
Silas Bedell, the crier of the court, examined by Mr. Morris



THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.             21 
I know the house No. 41 Thomas street. Knew the premises
before; two houses, which form the house as it now is, were
joined together. Have been in the house since it was joinedin
its present way. I have been there several times. Tile parti
tion between the up-stairs back rooms, is, I believe, of brick. I
amrn not, however quite certain that it is so. The house has a
brick front, but I aml not certain that it is brick in the, rear.. [The witness then explained the manner in which the two
houses werc joined, into one-stating, however, in the course of'
the explanation, no material fact, either for or against the prosecution. lie was not cross-examined by the counsel for the de-:
fence. 
David L. Rogers, M. D., recalled by Mr. Phenix-I was of
opinion, when I first saw the axe which was found in, the rear of
Mrs. Townsend's yard, that there was blood on it.
Cross-examined by Mr. Price —It would be difficult for me to
say whether the bruised appearance of the axe, the discoloration which appears upon it,-is blood or rust. The places where
I thought the blood was, was upon the back of the axe. When
l was examined before respecting the axe, it was before the
coroner's inquest.'The District-Attorney here called the coroner and his clerk,
XMr. Relyea, both of whom he wanted as witnesses, but in consequence of their not being presenlt, and having no other witnesses
to examine, he rested the case for the prosecution.
The counsel for the defence, tlien called George D. Woole,
who testified as follows:-I amn assistant secretary of Jeff, rson
Fire Insurance Company, of this city. Mars. Townsend had a
policy on the furniture on the 9th of April last, to the amount
of thirty-five hundred dollars. In June, 1S31, the policy was
only fifteen hundred dollars, and twelve months afterwards it
was renewed for the large amount I have stated.
Cross-examined by Mr. Morris-It was either in Mlny or
June 1835, when Mrs. Townsend renewed her policy for thirtyfive hundred dollars.
Joseph Hoxie, Jr., recalled by Mr., Hoffman-We had part
ct our store in Maiden Lane, painted on the Saturday preceding the murder. I got some paint upon my clothes, and the
prisoner also got some paint upon his clothes. The paint was
white The elbow of my coat was painted. The prisoner got




220              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
some paint upon his trousers. He also got it upon the right leg,
below the knee, and upon the left thigh near the hip.
Cross-examined by Mr. Morris-I don't know what time in
the day we got paint on our clothes. I recollect the circumstance, because I got some spirits of turpentine to get the pain t
out. Tried to get it out of his clothes, but could not, nor could
I get it entirely out of mine. Aln not very positive whether
the paint was inside or the outside of the prisoner's trousers.
He then had on a sort of mixed dull kerseymere pantaloons.
Liban Jacobs, examined by Mr. Price, for the defence-I
manufactured the hatchet now shown to me, (the hatchet with
which the murder was committed). Know it, for we had a,
great number manufactured for us in 1834. My firm was then
Latman and Jacobs, and our mark was L. & Jacobs. We had
2,500 manufactured for us in 1834, in Connecticut The handles
were put in here. Know that by the handle.
Cross-examined by Mr. Morris-We sold a great many
hatchets like that, and I presume that they are nearly all alike.
They were sold in nearly all the hardware stores in the city.
Know nothing about Mr. IHoxie having had such aur axe as the
one now presented.
Mr. Phenix now offered to prove that the prisoner on being
brought for examination before the police magistrates, refused
to give any answer at all to any interogatory put to him.
Judge Edwards stated that such testimony was altogether
inadmissible.
Mr. Phenix-I was undert he impression, if it please your
honor, that I had a strict legal right to introduce this fact to
the Jury.
Mr. Hoffman-".Me me adssum quifeci." —If it please your
honor, if the refusal on the part of my client to answer any
questions that were put to himn at the police office be a crime, it
may be justly chargeable to me, for he acted entirely under my
direction and advice.
At this stage of the proceedings, Mr. Phenix stated that
some witnesses who had been subpcened on the part of the
prosecution at the early part of the trial, and whose testimony
would be very material, could not now be found, and he therefore was under the necessity of resting the case for the
people.
The counsel for the prisoner remarked that they had no




THE MURDEMR OF HELEN JEWETT..           221
tmore witness to introduce in behalf of their client, and if the.
court pleased, they would immediately commence summing
up the defence. The court replied that they were ready to
hear the summing up.
A iew minutes before twelve o'clock, Mr. Price, counsel on
the part of the accused, commenced an able speech, eluci.
dative of the testimony, explanatory of the abstruse and
seemingly dark portions of the evidence, illustrative of the infamous character and conduct of Mrs. Townsend, and her
household, to the former of whom he imputed the probable
perpetration of the murder. lie swept away by the force of
his reasoning, the inauspicious circumstances attending the
paint on the pantaloons, the baldness of the' head, the finding
of the coat and hatchet, and attempted to show their deposit
in the yard by other hands, than those of the plisoner,  He
spoke in the strongest terms of detestation of the infamous
and abandoned course of life of Rosina Townsend, reaping her
polluted resources, and supporting her wretched life by the
prostitution of yound and tender females, whom she had inveighled into her toils, to vegetate in vice of the most abominable kind, to wear out their lives in her odious service, and to
die- in misery and disgrace. One Maria Stevens, he said, who
declared she knew the murderer, had since died in the brothel
of Mrs. Galagher, under circumstances of suspicion; and he
protested in the strongest terms against reposing any confidence in the testimony of such a woman as Rosina Townsend,
corrupt, and rotten and abandoned as she was. He considered
her incapable, fiom lker deep depravity, of telling the truth in'
a case like this, where her own character and interest and safety
were at stake. He sptke of her repeated contradictionl of
herself in her several statements made before the police, the
grand jury, to other persons, and here; and also exposed the
diserepant statements of the black girl, and the other girls of
trs. Towns'end's family. He spoke of the presence of the
prisoner at Mr. Furlong's store, for an hour after the time he
was sworn to have been at Thomas street; and went on at
great length to attack and overturn by his arguments, the
whole mass of testimony against the prisoner.
iMr. Price continued speaking until eleven minutes past one,
when he closed hiS remarks in a burst of powerful eloquence,
having spoken an hour and thirteen minutes. After the lapse




222               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
of half-an-hour or more, spent in interlocutory conversation, in
relation to the further order of the proceedings.
Mr. Morris for the prosecution; commenced his summing up
argurment at thirteen minutes before two o'clock, and after
speaking until four minutes past three, gave way without finishing his speech, for the court to adjourn for dinner.
After an adjournment of more than an hour, the court met,
at twenty-five minutes past four o'clock, to resume thleir busi-'ness.  At twenty minutes after five, Mr. Morris recommenced
his address, during which he reviewed, and comlnented on the
entire testimony, replied fully to the remarks of Mr. Price, and
contended strenuously for the guilt of the prisoners concluding
his remarks at half past five o'clock.
Mr. Ioffman then commenced hissumming up speech, anrid
continued to address the court and jury with great energy and
eloquence until after eight. o'clock, having spoken -filly three
hours.  After he concluded, the audignce, who had listened
with profound attention to his speech, during its delivery,
broke forth in loud plaudits, which for a while interrupted the
proceedings of the court.
Mr. M;Iaxwell then rose and cited and read several authorities on the subject of evidence necessary to work a colryiction,
particularly evidence of a circumstantial character, which he
interspersed with appropriate observations, and illustrated by
pertinent comments and remarks.
The reading of these authorities and comments and remarks
upon them, occupied until nine o'clock. Mr. Maxwell concluded by submitting to the consideration of the court the following propositions, viz:
Ist. Every man is presumed to be innocent until his guilt be
proved. The guilt charged must be proved to the exclusion
of all reasonable doubt.
2d. No conviction can be had except upon proof of guilt.
The mere preponderamce of evidence will not warrant a conviction, unless that preponderance should convince the jury of
guilt to the exclusion of all reasonable doubt.
3d. Circumstantiai proof may be sufficient to convict, but to
warrant a conviction, the circumstances proved, ought fully to
exclude the belief that any other person could have committed
the crime
4th. The proof.mn -this case consists of coincident circum,




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.               223
stances, but taken severally or united, they do not necessarily
exclude the hypothesis, llhat some other person ought to be
guilty ot' thle murder, and if they do not, the prisoner ought nce
to be convicted.
ath.' lle coincident circumstances as proven, may create a
probable ground for presuming guilt, but each and every clrcumstance, severall, or united, are no more than inconclusive
probabilities, and do not warrnant conviction.
Mr. Plienix, the District Attorney, then commenced the
closing speech in favor of tlhe pl)rsecution, and after a patient
and able argument of two hcku s andd more, concluded at eleven
o'clock.
His honor Judge Edwards then charged the Jury at length,
recapitulating the prominent parts of the testimonly, and laying
down the law for the guidalce of the jury. He said that the
jury, however, were as well the judges of the law, as of'the
facts. That it was a lr'inciple of law as laid down by Blackstone, that it were better ten guilty persons escape punishment,
than one innocent person stffer. He stated that if, after a careful
and candid investigatlon of all the facts and circumstances of
thle -case, they did not arrive at a full conviction,!that the prisoner was guilty beyond all reasonable doubt, they ought not to
convict him.
That this principle was to govern them throughout; and if
all the facts and clrcumstalces brought by evidence against
tPe prisoner did no. bring them  to tile conclusion that the
g ilt of the lirisoner was established beyond all reasonable
dlnubt, they were to be la.d aside as insufficient for conviction'Die jurywere also to consider well the character of the perseus br.ought forward as witnesses; the manner in which they
teAtified; whether they were  consistent throughout; and
whether the facts they stated were in accordance with other
facts indubitably established.  In this case, the testimony
prineipally is drawn, confessedly, from persons of very bad repute,-frorn one of tile most infamous houses in tis city.
MWilen persons are brougllt forward who led such:profligate
lives, their testnmony is notro be cledited unless corroborated
by testimony drawn f5cm -more creditable. sources. The law
thcrcfore says, if testimony is drawn -from  persons of this deseript in, In the judgment of law you are not entitled to convict upion it, but if it be corroboroted and strengthened- by




2'24               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
other credible testimony, then give it all the credibility to
which it is in justice entitled. That there was a murder there
can be no doubt-the question for your consideration is, was
the prisoner at the bar the murderers Your attention is directed to the circumstances connecting the prisoner with the
crime with which lie Is charged; 1st. Thlero  is a cloak found
in the yard; 2nd. The hatchet Iounld lti another yard, and 3rd
The miniature which was proved to be ill the possession ot the
deceased on Friday, and was iound,after tle nmurder in tle possession of the prisoner on bSnnday'1t hse are the three facts
to be relied on for connecting the I,risor.ci with this transaction.
First, as to the cloak, Mr. Torril. testified that he saw it on the
prisoner at half past severn or eight o'clock, and Mr. Furlong
testifies that at hall past nine o'clock lie was at his shoplJ without it. It must then have been left at some place in the intermediate time.  If he had been at Mrs. Townsend's hollse after
be parted with Terrill, he might have left it thelre early in tihe
evening, and returned to Mr. Furlong's without At  ot vlse lie
may have taken it home, and after he left Mr. Ftulone s he
may have gone and got it. The cloak, however, was,onnd tn
the yard adjoining the house in Thonmas street, 6s)rea(t,out,
where it was dropped by some person. Further, Mrs. Townsend testifies, as do also hei girls to precisely the same facts
viz., that the prisoner came to their house at nine or hail,ast
nine o'clock, while Mr. Ftrlotng testifies thalt hle did not Aeave
his store till half past ten o'clock. His  Honor considerea ttle
statement of Mr. Furlong as the proper one to be relied,in t.o
the exclusion of those of Mrs. Townsend. IIow  the cloak
came ln the yard, le,. however, could only hypothetlcatii
account for. As to the hatchet, he said, it was sworu to oy
Mr. Hoxie's parter; it had been taken fromn the st3re on the
Wednesday previous to the murder, found in the yard of Mrs.
Townsend on Sunday morning with tihe string round it, and not
missed by the porter until Monday mo:j,;nig   His hon,,r then
attempted to furnish a satisfactory solution of this matter. As
to the miniature, lie stated the facts proved in relation to that;
so with the fire, the discovery of, Phe fire; the calling of the
watch to extinguish it; the contradictory statements of Mrs.
Townsend and her girls with thllt of the black gi'-l, &c.; all
of which circumstances lie stated  and commented  tpon with
some severity, as regarded the females who testified; but he




THE MURDER OF HELEN JEWETT.              225
admitted thilt some of the circumstances were enveloped in a
mystery difficult to be unravelled. The result of his Ilonor's
convictions was generally adverse to the credibility of the
female witnesses against the prisoner.  He concluded by
charging the jury that if they entertained any reasonable doubt
of the guilt of the prisoner, those doubts were the property of
the prisoner, they were bound to acquit himn; but if they were
without a reasonable doubt of his guilt they should findd him
guilty..
His HIonor closed his charge at half past twelve o'clock,
when the jury retired to their chamber, and in about ten minutes returned into the court with a verdict of NOT GUILTY.
As soon as the verdict was announced, the-court-house rang
with loud and reiterated plaudits, which the officers were for
some time unable to suppress. The prisoner was then formally
dlscharged from custody.
THE END.
The result of Robinson's trial astonished many. There is no
doubt but that the evidence was strongly against him, and how
the jury arrived at a verdict of acquittal was a matter of much
surmise  Sonme a.serted that the jury had been bribed; while
others laid bribery at the door of officials high in the confidence
of the community. These assertions may or may not have had
some foundation; or it may have been that the jury had really
arrived at their conclusion from, a conscientious conviction of
the irisoner's innocence.
As to what became of Robinson after the trial, it appears
that he left New York and' settled in Texas, where he married,
and became the father of a large family. He is now dead,
and gone before that tribunal where his guilt or innocence has
been fully determined, and the measure of his reward or punishment justly awarded.




226'               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
JOHN! C. COLT.:
HIS TRIAL AND CONVtCTION FOR THE MIURDER OF SAMUEL ADAMS nI
THE YEAR 1841.- SKET'CH OF THE MURDERER AND HIS VICTIM. —
THE EVIDENCE FOR AND AGAINST THE PRIbONER IN FULL.-EXCITING INCIDENTS OF THE TRIAL.-THE HEAD OF THE MURDERED
MAN. EXHIBITED IN OPEN C0OURT. iNTERESTING EXAMINATION OF
CAROLINE HERSBHAW, Cc6 tT''  MISTRESS. —THE VERDICT.-ATTEMPTS
TO RELEASE COLT FROM JAIL —INCIDENTS OF HIS PRISON LIFE.SUICIDE OF THE UNFORTUNATE MAN ON THE DAY SET DOWN FOR
HIS EXECUTION.-THE TOMBS ON FIRE, &C. &C.
It was only four years after the murder of Helen Jewett, that the
citizens of New-York were again startied by another assassination,
equally appalling in its character, causing intense excitement among
all classes of the community. The perpetrator of the deed was
John C. Colt, a teacher of book-keeping, and brother of the wellknown Colonel Samuel Colt, of patent revolver notoriety. His victim was Samuel Adams, a printer, both Yesidents of New-York.
The atrocity of the deed or any of the palliating circumstances
which may have surrounded it, is not a fit subject for us to dilate
upon. We will leave the public-to form their estimate in this connection on reading the report of the trial, which follows this preliminary sketch,-together with the statement of th'e prisoner, which
was read in court by his counsel, Mr.Robert Emmett.
John C. Colt was born in Hartford, Conn., and at the time of the
murder was about thirty-two years ofage. He lived with his mistress, Caroline Hienshaw, at No. 42 Monroe street in this city, and
occnpied a room for his business in the granite building corner
of Broad way and Chambers street, now the well-kno'wn Delinifohico's.
Fe'w who today enter this celebrated iestabiishminent Ae aoWate of
the fiact'tht that ithin Its  alls was:enatcted one -of the most remarkable tragedies of the nineteenth century.
No human eye other than that of him who did the deed, witnessed the killing of Mr. Adams; but from the evidence brought
forward on the trial, ind the statements of Colt, there seemed te be
no doubt as to the manner in which the unfortunate deceased was
hurried into eternity.
It appears that Adams and Colt had business transactions, the
sormer beinmg engaged in printing a work on book-keeping for the




JOHN C. CoLT.                   227
latter. A small bill of some fifty or sixty dollars was due to
Adams by the prisoner, and on the seventeenth ofSeptember, 1841,
he called at the latter's place of business, corner of Broadway and
Chambers street, in relation thereto. Colt's statement of the affair
is that words came between himself and Adams as to the correctness of the bill. Adams called Colt a liar, when the latter resented
the insult by slapping the former in the face. A scuffle then ensued.
Adams seized Colt by the throat, and matters began to look
sericu. Colt, fearing for his life (according to his own statement)
stretcllcd out his hand for a hatchet, which lay near, and struck
Adams a heavy blow on the forehead, which levelled the unfortunate man to the floor, and he died in a few minutes. Colt was now
at a loss what to do. He left his room and locked the door,
wending his steps to the'City Hotel, where his brother, Samuel
Colt, then stopped, to whom he intended to impart his secret, and
consult as to his future movements. Samuel Colt was in the barroom speaking to some friends, and he desired John to go up to
his room, and he would rejoin him in a few minutes. Theerisoner
waited some time, but his brothel not making his appearan:., ne
i urried back to the corner of L:; adway and Chambers s:'?eet
The body lay there covered with blood. lie took a large box
~ rammed the body into it, wrapped in a piece of canvas, tying up
the legs close to the trunk, and then scattered salt and saw dust
over all. There were marks of blood upon the wall and flooring
which he washed off, and poured ink upon them, so that they could
not be noticed. He remained In the room until late at night, when
he returned to his home in Monroe street.  Next morning at nine
o'clock he hastened to his place of business, procured a carman, and
sent the box, which he had previously nailed up, on board the
steamer Kalamazoo, lying at the foot of Maiden Lane. The box
was directed to a gentleman in St. Louls, by way of New Orleans.
Adams being missed by his family, inquiries were made, and it
was ascertained that he was last seen going into the apartments of
Colt. Those who occupied rooms in the building, had heard suspicious noises in Colt's room, the day of Mr. Adams' disappearance.
These incidents, together with the fact of tbe body being found
boxed up on board the Kalamazoo, led to the arrest of Colt.
A trial took place, which we append in full, as reported in a newspaper of that date. The jury, believing that Colt committed the
murder wilfully, and not crediting the plea of self-defence which he
set up, convicted him, and he was sentenced to be hung; but the
law was robbed of its victim, as on the day set down for his execution, Colt committed suicide by stabbing himself to the heart with
a dagger, furnished him for the purpose by some of his friends.




228               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
THE TRIAL.
At twelve o'clock, on Thursday, the 21st of January, 18 2,
two days having been occupied in procuring a jury, the trial
of Co.t was commenced in the Court of Oyer and Terminer, be*io e J i.dge Kenlt. The indictment set forth the facts that Jolhn
C Coat Eu the 17th of September, 1841, being instigated by the
tcevl', &c. ade an assault with a hatchet on the person of Samlie' A arns and infhlcted a wound on the right side of his head,
of wilch -iwounid the said Samuel Adarms then and there died.'ii is fa(r you gentlemen," said the clerk. addressing the jurty,' by the evidence which will be presented, to say whether
the prisoner was guilty or not guilty, as charged by this indict,
merit.
Ml Slnith, Assistant District Attorney, then rose and presented the particulars of t.he charge to the jury. It is the first
time in my lite, said he, 1 have been engaged on the part of
the people in a case affecting life and death. It is a painFul
task for me, for you, and for all here present, to perform, bult
uee that is necessary. You'have been selected out of a large
number because you have declared yourselves as having no
bias  Y ou will give the evidence such weight as' you think it
ertitled to. You are not to aliow your sympathies to be illPrcperly exercised. We may feel them, but the jury box is not
tht. F-;ace for their display. The prisoner has been charged
with the commission of murder, and such a murder,' too, prout.,Liy as is anparalle'ed in the annals of crime. You are bound
tait!hfuiy to pass between the people and the prisoner. On thle
17th ol September Samuel Adarms was seen for the last time
by his fri-ends. The- prisoner and Adams had dealings by which
ttie relaticn of debtor and creditor existed between them. Mr.
Colt had made an arrangement with Adams for the printing of
a work which he had written on book-keeping. It was in relation to a bil which Colt owed Adamis'that the latter called
on the former on the day of the murder. [Thie circumstances
attending the discovery of the body were then alluded to by
Mr. Smith.]'The counsel on the opposite side would, no
doubt, endeavor to palliate the crime, but the violent character
of the prisoner, which would be shown by the trial, and the
contrary one of the deceased, left but little doubt that the mnur



JOHN C. COLT.                   229
der was wilful and premeditated. It was for the jury, however, to pass upon the act, and afford that justice which the nature of the evidence demanded.
The District Attorney, Mr. Whiting, then proceeded to call
his witnesses:
Asa H. Wheeler sworn-was a teacher of writing and bookkeeping on the second floor of the granite building corner of
Chaml)ers street and Broadway.  Was a married man and resided in 30th street; became acquainted with the prisoner in
1838, whlen he came to sliew witness a system of book-keeping.
On the 2d A.ugust last witness occupied two rooms, and the
prisoner requested him to let one of them for six weeks; lie did
so; the rooms. adjoing each other, and the entrance was on
Chambers street; there was an entry way at the head of the
stairs, ru nlng opaallel with Chambrners street towards 3roadway,
there were three or four rooms between the stairs and Broad
way; Colt's room was the secotnd door; the door swung in
witress' own room was at the corner, and there were folding
doors between that and the ofie 6ccupied by Colt; Mr. Riley
had occupied the room previous to Colt having it; there was
a lock on the door and it openred into Colt's room; the room
Lad o)Te window in it on Chambers street; had seen in the
room a few chlairs, a table, a box, and a trunk; the box was
about three feet in length, and eighteen inches in width and
height; it generally stood on the left I1and side as you entered
the room, the table,stood on the west corner, righlt hand
side as you went in. [A diagram was here shown witness,
which he stated to be a correct one.] The window was op
psite to the door; frequently mnet the prisoner Il the
hall and went into each other's roomns; in witness' room
there was a writing desk, about seven feet by four, which, at the
time Mr. Adaims was missed stood against the folding door;
there was another against the wall in Chambers street, extend.
ing from one window to the other' there was also one from the
corner of Clhantbers street window to the second one in Broad
fway; chairs were used to the Chambers street table and long
benches for the Broadway one; there was a secretary in the
recess between the fire piace and the door. which witness occu]iied; did not have any professionat controversy, but some words
had occurred between us, owing to my asking Mr. Colt foir my
rent;, I told hin it was, not worth wllle to get wrathy about it;




230               REMARKABLE'-RIALS.
he settled by giving me some books, and we became on familiar
terms again ~ next evening, after my scholars went away, AMr.
Colt came into my room; he was to pay me $10 at the end of
four Wveeks, and $5 more at the end of the six —making fifteen
dollars in all-.so that I suppose it was about the 4th of Septein.
ber: no unpleasant words passed between us from the time;
the time for his leaving had expired on the 13tlh  I was anxious
to get the room in my possession; on asking hlim he requested
to stay a week longer, which I agreed to  on Friday, the 17th
of Septemrner I arrived at mly room  about half past 2' was
seated at my desk writing in thle Broadway corner ot the
room; was alone for some tilne then entered a pupil of imine
aboutt 16 years of age. The young man s name was Seiolgette;
about quarter past 3, I!heard a noise Ili;e the clashing ol tolls;
it was momentary, and I hcard a violeit lal on the floor the
young man exclaimed,-" whaL is tlha f'.t  I Ea\d I did not
know; I went into tlle hall and listenol at Mr. Co,~ s d0or. but
all was still: I!ooked into thle keyhole bu' cund thla tile diop
was down inside. there was simply a ray ot:lght through' 1
had my pen in my h!and placed it in the kevhoie anl shid the
drop on one side: I there saw, in about the centre of the room,
close by the wall on the west side, a person in his shirt sleeves,
in a position as if bending down over something.  [The witness
described the position, the left knee appeared to be resting on
something. and the arms slightly moving up and down as a per.
son would be in the act of sawing j On a table I observed two
black hats;. the person remained in the recumbent position
about ten minutes. he put something on the table, which' I did
not see, and returned to the same position. I then cailed the
young man to stand in ny door and watch Mr. Colt's door till I
went up stairs to find Mr. Adams, the owner of the buiiding,
and procure advice or heip; Mr Adams was noL mn; f then
called at several of tile doors, bu~t the occupants were not there,
lt being the hour for dinner. I called the keeper of the house,
Mr. Locklan, who witlh myself. endeavored to Jook through the
keyhole, but found thle slide down and the room darkened
again;: Mr Locklan appeared to be alarmed and agitated, but
thought there could be nothing of thte kind, and ieft me aione
in thle hall; anothler ot my schlolars then came in  to whom I
related the circtmstance, and rapped at the door, but found no
answer, all being perfectly still; I then went softly down stairs




JOIIN C. COLT.                  231
and returned with a 1heavy walk, supposing that Mr. Colt would
think it a friend, and would open the door; I rapped again,
but no answer; several more of my scholars came in soon afterwards, to whom I told what had occurred; we were in the room
with the door open; I sent one of the shllolars, Mr. D>lnous,
after an officer, who returned and said that the officers were
then engaged, but that one of them would be there in half an
llour or less; waited till candle light, when two of the scholars,
Mr. Wood and Mr. Riley, went again after an officer. We continued to watch the door; the officers sent word ba-c:k that they
would not dare to open the door, but we must keep watch; I'ermnained in my room till 9 o'clock, and left it in the care of
Mi{r. Delnous, who was to remain. Heard no noise as of foris,
Ioud words,, or otherwise, after that time. The noise like fls
clashing was momentary; pievlous to hearing the foils, there
was a souhd —a slight olle —as ot peo?!e stl:nitlng on a car'peted
floor. At nine o'clock I left with Mr. De'noias.  At halt'
past nine next morning,  I borrowed a key and went into Mr.
Colt's room. He was absenlt; 1 only stepped one foot in and
looked round; I discoverecl the box was minssing that llad st, ood
there, and that the floor had been scrubbed. The part where
I supposed I saw the person the day previous was more
scrubbed than the rest; oil and ink 1had been spi ilt r.)und thle
base of the floor, and thrown in spots on the wall.  I closed
the door and went into my room. The scrubbing'had been
more in the centre of tdle ronl, and was not quite dry. Locked
the door again and returned the key to the owner. After being
in my room. about 30 miniutes Colt rapped at my door. HI inquired f n-.y key wouid fit his door, as he had left his at his
house, and wished to enlter his room. I told hlimn I did not
know, but he might try; lie did so. but it did not fit. Ije tlhen
commenced talking aboult b1U ok keeping and writing, in which
we were both engaged. He was very talkative indeed. At
last 1 got an opportunity to say a word, and observed, "Mi'.
Colt, W!,at noise was that in y)our romn yesterday afternoon?"
He replied, " You must be mistaken, as I was oult all the after.
noon.'' I said there certainly was no i-.e, as it had quite alarmed
us. Iec said nothing more then, and went away. On Sunday
I did not go to the office, and did not see himn. On O Mionday,
about half-past 10, I went to the office and was leanilg against




232              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
the folding door, when Mr. Colt entered his room. IIe commenced singing, which was very uncommon. I had a piece of
writing which Mr. Colt had spoken of; and took it into his
room  as an excuse. Ile was suloking and had a bunch of
matches in his chair. Ile asked me to smoke with him which
I declined. He observed he hlad a very bad habit of smoking,
doing so to a very great extent. IIe either said it caused him
to spit blood, or he did it to prevent spitting blood, cannot say
which; there were 30 or 40 specks on thle wall. In the course
of conversation I referred arain to the noise. He said, "to
tell you the truth, Mr. Wheeler, I upset my table, spilt my
ink, and knocked down the books, making a deuced mass. I
hope it dldl't d.sturb you."  On Saturday I called at the office
of.Mr. Adams, owner of the building, over my room, to ask
his advice; he said it was a very delicate subject to meddle
withl, and we had better wait until we saw something in tile
papers. Colt and I met frequentlyin the hall during the
week. On Tuesday I saw the notl;.e of Mr Adams' absence in
the papers, and went to the house of Mr. Lane, in Catherine
street, but couldn't see him. Left word, and Mr. Lane called
on me at my room in company with Mr. Loud. Ile brought
with him Mr. Adams' books.  We examined them. We
then went to thle Mayor, and informed him  of what we
knew. I continued to meet Mr. Colt in the hall up to the
time of his arrest. On Thursday he urged me very politely to
come into his room, as lie wished to have some conversation
on the subject of book-keeping, and obtain my advice as to the
publishing of his work. Partly promised to go in, but did not.
On Friday merning he invited me in. again in a very friendly
and urgent inan: er to colne into his room.  I was talking at
the time with Mr. Barker, at the front door. Colt was arrested on Friday.
Arzac Seignette, sworn-I am sixteen years of ayge; reside at
the corner of Fourth and Wooster streets; went to Mr.
VWheeier's between half-past two and three, anld took my seat
at a desk facing Broadway, pretty nearly opposite the folding
door  Soon after going in I heard a kind of a rush, a sudden
noise-it sounded as it you laid hold ot a man and threw hrin
down without much trouble; rose from my seat at about the
same tinle with AMr. Wlleeler, and I followed him; he looked
through the keyhole and returned (objected to). He then




JOHN C. COLT.                   23 
went up stairs, while I kept watch at Colt's door. IHe returned
*with Oakland; they talked together, and Mr. O. went away.
I tried to look through the keylhole, but it was stopped up.
About five minutes had elapsed since Mfr. Wheeler lhad looked
through. He went out,- returned again, and went to the door
a second time. Two persons caine in who were strangers to
me —one of them was an Irishman —then Mr. Wood came in,
and then Mr. Delnous; tlle latter came in about half-past ibur:
no person had gone into Colt's door, nor did I hear any voice
in the room. (The witness, in answer to other questions, confirmed Mr. Wheeler's testimony.)  Ile left about half pl;st
three that evening; had not seen ]Mr. Colt that day, and did
not know him.
By MIr. Selden —That was the first day of my becoming a
sclhola. Where I sat was abotut eoght feet fromn the B}roaad vaY
wall. ie: rd the sound like str;kin of' foils on crossing eac.,
other. The fall followed Inmmediately. Do not think,t was
foils, but c;nnot compare it to anything else. Hieard the noise
and fall almost simultaneously, with a difference of about a
second. Listened at the folding doors, and thought I tllard z
noise as ot struggling, or solnething Ilke that. A fter trynllg to
look through the keyhole, I returned into the room, and listened at the foiding door; leaned on tle desk, and got as near
to the door as I could-within about three inches.
By Mr. Whiting —I listened near the center of the folding
doors, ard thoulght I heard a slight shuffling, Iut it was very
faint. I think it was the sound of a foot.
John Delnous swor —I am twenty-six years of age, and a
bookkeeper by profession; reside at 129 Broadway.  Was at
Staten isluand last summer, anld to!d Mr. Wheeler that as 1
could not get tlie room I wanted froin my landlady, 1 would
talke the one occupie;1 by Mlr. Colt when he vacated it, which
he agreed to do.  Went to Wheeler's that afternoon, who told
me what had happened. I at first laughed at it, till I Law -him,
go to the keyhole. I then llstened at thie folding door, but
heard no noise whatever - everything being perfectly quinet.
Mr. Wheeler asked ime to go for an officer, which I did. Bowyer promised to come, but did;not.  I went to my tea about
six o'clock, and returned. Mr. Wheeler left about nine, after
which I remained still for abo-ut half an hour. I then heard
some one unlock Mr. Colts door from  the inside, come out,




234               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
iock it again, and go away. Tule person returned in about five
ulltlu es, and in about five minutes more 1 heard some one in
Mr. Colt's room tearing something resembling cotton cloth;
the next sound was the rattling ot awater-after that, some per
son scrubbing the floor very near the tolding dooi, continually
putting his cloth ill the water and rinsing it., The next noise
I heard was about six o'clock neyt morning, as of some person
nailing a box, which sounded as if it was full. It was the first
noise I heard after I awoke, or it might have been the noise
whick awakened Ine. I heard a sawing as of a person sawing
a board, imnmediately after the hammering. It then went to
breakfast. This was about seven o'clock, and no person had
operned the door from the time that I awoke. Was gone to
breakfast about an hour. On coining in, saw a box at the foot
of the stairs, directed to some person in St. Louis, via New
Orleans. It stood in the lower entry, about six feet from  the
door. The box was boarded up, the direction in writing, and
seemed to be made wltll ink. Te box was about three feet
lng, and two and a hail feet wide and deep. There was no
box in the entry wlien I went to breakfast. Had seen XMr.
Colt two or three tlmes-oDce in his room, when I went to ask
im.n about the key in the folding door. I-e said it was in the
door, and pointed it out  Saw him the Friday after the mu'der, when he entered into conversation. He spoke of his own
and other syteins of bookkeeping; also of different places lie
had been in- Boton, Phlliladelphia, and elsewhere. The box
was removed the salne atternon that I saw it in tile entry.
By Mr. Selder!-Was not absent from Mr. Wheeler's after
going there in t!e lafternoon, except when I went to the police
onfice, and when I went to tea. (Witness saw Messrs. Wool
and Itiley, and others that came in, as described by Mr.
WVheeler.)  Returned from  tea about half-past seven. Ttle
weather was rainy. The keyhole of the folding door is above
the desk. It was stoppled up  Atter my return from tea, Mr.
Wheeler knocked again at CQot's door, but there was no
answer. Thinks It very difhcult when the ornnibusses are rattlllg by, and windows are ulp to hear in Mr. Wheeler's room
even loud taiking going ol in Mr. Colt's.
Law Octon, sworn -- I arm keeper of the granite building corner of Clhambers street. and Lroadway.  Reside in the third
story. Am also sexton ol a Baptist church. Know the pris



JOHN C. COLT.                  235
oner, but had very little acquaintance with the tenants. On
the afternoon already alluded to, Mr. Wheeler came up stairs,
and requested I should go down with him  to Co't's room,.
Went down, and Mrl. Wheeler applied his eye to the keyhole,
and endeavored to look in. Everything was quiet. R eturned
up stairs, and came down in about an honr, wlen Mr. WVlleeler
went again to Colt's door. Between seven and eiglht oclock
next morning saw a box in the ha1ll at the head of the first
flight of stairs. It was a pine box, and stood on onm end.  tL!
a minute or two Colt carre out of hlis roo)m, laid lbold of the
box, and took it down stairs. Ie threw it over on its side,
aragged it to the stairs, anrd slid it down, going before it, and
placing his shoulder against the box to prevent it going too
fast. It caught in going down, when lie pressed his shoulder
heavily against it, and raised uin the lower end. I went up
stairs; returned in about seven minutes, when the box was at
the foot of the stairs, and Colt stanrding at the door. Ile hlad
no coat or vest on, but was in his shirt sleeves. Ile seemned to
look out for a carman.  Thie Ibox was directed to solne person;
saw the woid "New Orleans " on it; the direction seenmed to
have been done with a kind of blue ink. Colt did not say any
thing when he was getting the box down stairs. Never saw
the box before, and have not seen it since, - (Tlie witness then
underwent a lonir cross-examination by Mr. Selden, but nothing was elicited beyond a description of the building and the
tenants occupying it.)
Richard Barstow sworn-I am  a carman, 34 years of age,
and reside at 392l17th street; saw Mr. Colt in Chambers street,
near Church, the morning of the 18th of September, between a
quarter to nine and nine o'clock; I came down Hudson street
into Chambers and was coming through the latter; saw a man
looking round as for some one; lhe beckoned to me and asked
me if I was engaged.; 1 told him not particularly; he stepped
into the street to me; asked him what he wanted; he said he
wanted a box to be taken to the foot of Maiden Lane; as that
was on my way I agreed to take it; there was a spring cart
opposite to the door, standing sideways, with the head towards
Broadway; backed my horse un to it; the pr!isoner was dressed
in black; he went in and I followed; he went a few steps up
and pointed to the box; it lay alongside of the'balusters; do
not recollect his saying a word. The carman that was there




236               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
with the spring cart took hold of the box with me, and we took
it up and put it on my cart; Colt stood there while we were doing it; I went back and asked him to what vessel I was to carry
it. Hie said he did not know the name of the vessel, but it was
at the foot of Maiden Lane, and he would go with me. From
time to time as I was going, I looked back to see if lie followed
me. He did so. I went down Broadway and Maiden Lane. I
had noticed the direction, and supposed the box was going on
board a vessel for New Orleans. Stopped opposite a ship bound
for there, and pointed to the vessel to know if that was the one,
and he nodded assent. I backed up my cart. The vessel was
the Kalamazoo. The weather was rainy and the box very
dirty, and had to be cleaned off before it was put down below.
Dropped the box on the wharf the same as I would a box of
sugar. Colt handed me two and sixpence, and I took it and
cleared out. If he had asked me the price, I should have
charged him three shillings, but supposed I would have more
trouble to get the other sixpence out of him than it was worth.
[Prisoner laughed.] In about a week afterwards saw the same
box again in the hold of the Kalamazoo. Had to work very
hard before we got it; it was opened, and contained a dead
body. The box was then closed and I presume carried tolthe
dead house. Did not see it again.  The box was ound down
in the forward hatch. I was engaged from the first in removing
the other boxes to find it. It was near the groound tier.  The
marks were still on it, very fresh. They were made with blue
ink.
Thomas Russel sworn-I am a carman by profession; on the
18th of September last, when at the corner of Chambers street
And Broadway, where I am employed, I saw the other carman
come to the door of the granite building, and assisted him to
put a box on his cart; Mr. Colt was there; did not take particular notice of the direction of the'box; saw there was a
large G to it; saw it again on Snnday the 29th; did not know
the carman that took it; on the 25th was asked by the officers
if I knew him'; I replied that I did not, but thought I would
know the horse; went in pursuit of him, and found him; we
were then questioned as to size of the box and the description;
went down to the ship Kalamazoo together, and saw the chief
mate; the bills of lading for that day were examined, and we




JOHN C COLT.                  237
commenced a search; the box was hoisted to the lilddle deck;
saw it opened; first saw the awning, but on account of the
sten,-l I left, and went on the upper deck; saw the box,hoisted
on deck and over the side; did not see the body; when the
box was opened the stench was so great I was compelled to
leave.
Mr. Godfrey sworn —I am  superintendent of carts; the
mayor asked me if I could find out the cart spoken of on this
trial; spoke to Russel, who thought he could tell the horse;
went with him to search and found the carman at Peck Slip;
asked hinm if lie recollec'.ed about it; he replied that lie did;
went on board the Kalamazoo and saw the chief mate; asked
him to jet me see the bills of lading; got an order to take out
the cargo, and the officers were directed to assemble at the
mayor's office. On Sunday morning about nine o'clock, with
a lot of stevedores we commenced taking out the cargo; when
near the box Mr. Barstow recognized it; we hoisted it up between decks, knocked off the lid and took out the awning,
when we discovered a dead body; there was a rope round his
neck, and passed down round his legs, and his knees drawn
down towards his head-his face was up; examined it, and
supposed there was salt on the breast and body; the body was
not taken out on board the ship.  The chief mate then threw
some chloride of lime over it, and the box was nailed up ajrain.
Put it on the cart and carried it to the dead house, opened it
there and saw the dead body again.  Was there when they
commenced lifting it out.'lhe mayor sent for me, and I left.
The box was directed to R. P. Gross, St Louis, to the care of
Mr. Gray. New Orleans. The salt on tile body was partly dissolved; saw the breast; the body had a slllrt on, which Mr.
Mulligan, I believe, the deputy coroner, tore open; the body
had a greenish cast to it, as usual, when the flesh became mortified; was in and out of the dead house during the examination of the body, but did not pay much attention to it; thei
body was taken out of the box and put on a board, and a person
washed it off; the stench was great, and the maii was paid
six dollars for washllg it off. Oceans of people have offered
to bet me that Colt would be cleared; one last week, and, two
this week; Mr. Kepmin is one; probably a thousand persons
offered to bet, but I told them I had nothing to do withl it;




23S               REMARtIABLE TRIALS.
cannot say whether the people have been sent to me or other.
wise.
The District-Attoinley then read the examination of the mate
of the ship, who confirmed the testimony alreafdy given. Colt
was pointed out to'him, and he had all indistinct recollection
of his countenance. Gave the man that accompanied the box
to the vessel a receipt. The box was put into the hold exactly
as it came to the vessel, and was not touched again until taken
out by order of the mayor. The box he saw in the dead house
was the same. He threw the chloride of lime over the box
before he left the vessel.
Abner Milligan sworn —I am deputy coroner.  The witness
saw a-bout two quarts of comnmon salt in the bo x, also a black
dress coat which had been clt or torn, also a stock which lhad
been cut, and was smeared with blood on both sides, Cpart of
an awning, two pieces of mnatting about eighteei inches square,
and sonme oakum; the coat and stock were underneath the
body, the others with the body, folded in; tlhe body had nothing on it but a shirt; the neck was drawn down to the knlees
by a irope.
By Mr. Selden —The salt was mixed in with the clothes; dis.
covered it before the chloride of lime was thrown in; the body
was examined by Drs. Gilman and Kissam; there was a small
ring on the left hand, which the coroner took off. The coat
appeared to have been a new one, but it was much cut and torn.
Everything inside of the box appeared to be damp. Decoinposition had taken place, and there were white worms inside of it.
Hiad the things found in the box washed. About a pound of
chloride of lime was thrown into the box. The cleaning of the
body took place in the presence of several individuals, from the
beginning to the end of it. The whole of the box has been preserved. The stock was cut in two in front, the buckle remaining fast. Saw no wound except that on the head. The articles
found in the box were cleaned by a young man named E. D.
War'ner, an apothecary. lie cleansed thhem  with a process to
destroy the putrid matter. The articles were placed in a cell
at the Halls of Justice, and a solution thrown upon them; also
several pails of water.  They ssmell offensive'still, never having
been removed since the first day.
Robert Ii. Morris. Mayor, sworn-I was applied to on Thlrtsday, the twenty-third, in relation to the nmurder of Samuel




JO HN.C COtT.'                 239
Adams. On the evening aifter, a statenment had been made to
inc by three gentlemen, tha-t sometlhig wrong had transpired at
tile grniate building. I went over to tlhe building;,and exaitn&nc
several ipersons, among them the keeper. I then associated Justice Taylor with me, who, on Friday morninilg, took depositions,
and issued a warrant against Mr. Colt. I was ind:uced, from
something that had been told me, to go to the room in person;
and Justice Taylor, A. 1h. C. Smith, another officer, and myself,
went to the building in order to arrest Mr. Colt.  Mr. C.'s door
was locked, and a label left on it- that lhe would be back soon.
One of the officers was statloned at the head, and the other at
the foot of the stairs, and Justice Taylor and myself went into
Mlr. Wheeler's room. Mr. Colt'came to hls door and was
arrested.  I told Mr. Colt -who I was, and told him I wished to
see hlmn ln I ns room.  We all went in and closed the door; I
told him that hle wias. rrested on suspicion of having killed Mr.
Adams; the officers proceeded to search him to see if he had
any weapons; the prisoner assisted In the search, and seemed
disposed to yield everything. I then showed hllm the affidavts
on which the arrest was fotunded; lie was taken to my office at the
hlaIl, when Mr. Selden was sent for, also the pirison-er's brother; the
formlTner came. but the latter was out of town; Mr. Colt was then
committed to prison; I sent an advertisement to the papers,
asking a'ny carma-n who had carried such a box from the bulli
ing, to the slip, to give notice at my office, and succeeded in findtling hllm: I went to tlhe coroner's office, and learned particllars
asto tohe mrarks, and on Sunday morning we got the box out; I
assisted' as did all the officers, in getting out the cargo, and was
tllelre when the box was oyened; was not 8ufficiently near to observe if thlere had been salt in it, but was close enough to see
that there was a dead body in it.
By MAr. Selden —Did not hear anything about the salt till after tlle coroner's inquest; the box was bottom  upwards in the
hold, and the direction damlp, as if blood and Inatter had
oozed through. The two things vere'started simnultaneously,
to find the  box, and to find Mr. Colt's residence; Justice Taylor
took charge of' one branch, and I the other;'Colt's rcsidence
7was ascertained on Saturday' we moved with as niuch secresy
ais possible, in ordei to prevent a knowledge of these proceedlings
coming to the parties.




240              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
Thomas Taylor, sworn-I am a police magistrate, attached to
the upper police office; on Thursday received a note from the
Mayor to meet him at his office; we took depositions, and went
to Mr. Colt's room, who was absent; he soon came, and was arrested. I read to him the affidavits. In consequence of remnarks
made by Mr. Colt, got down the keeper and examined him oil
oath. Dr. Chilton came and endeavored to ascertain thd character of the spots on' the wall. Samuel Colt came to the MIayor's
office, on Saturday morning, and told me that the residence of
his brother was forty-two some street, and'he thought Thomas
street, but was not sure, and thought if I went to the City Hotel
with him, he could tell me certainly. Went to 42 Thomas street,
and inquired for Mrs. Colt, and was introduced to a young wcman who was called such. [ asked her what apartments Mr.
Colt occupied, and where his trunk was; she drew from a recess
in a room in the third story the trunk that is now in court. It
was opened in his presence in the police office; found some
things in it; among them a book, with several names in it; also
some stamps, with " Colt's Book-Keeping" on them; also cards
for his lectures. There was also a watch. The Mayor and myself, in consequence of information, took the watch to a watch
case manufacturer in John street, and also to Platt & Brothers,
in Maiden Lane.
By Mr. Selden-The spots on the wall were larger near the
centre, opposite the folding doors, than anywhere else. We
took up a piece of the floor near the folding door, on account
of a dark spot there. It was taken away by Dr. Chilton. Saw
one place more scrubbed than the rest. From  the Mayor's
office, Mr. Colt was carried to the upper police prison. In a
day or two afterwards he was taken to the Halls of Justice.
Was present when, the box was opened on board the ship, but
did not observe anything like salt about it. Colt and the. woman were both at the police office, but did not observe that
they said much to each other. Foun;d at Monroe stre(t, besides
the trunk, a carpet bag, which is here; everything is in it lnOW,
except a piece of newspaper, wlhich I gave to Mr. Clinton
(objected to). The  shirt here slhewn was also found at the
house; it is marked "J. C. Colt, No. 5."  Both of tile wristbands were off. There is no name or mark upon anything but
what I have mentioned.
By Mr. Selden-The shirt was neither in tile carpet bag nor




JOHN C. COLT                   241
the trunk. Got the key from the female and wished her to
open the trunk, but she declined, when we took her to the
police office, and opened it in presence of her and Mr. Colt.
The room in Monroe street was a small one, and the truink was
in the entry. The carpet-bag did not appear to contain any
clothing, but small pieces of' rags and boots; it is a sort of
"receivable" bag. The piece of paper was about in the middle of the bag. 1 think it was a portion of the Sun. The
watch found in the trunk was not wrapped in paper.
The Mayor recalled-Ak ter Mr. Colt's room was locked up,
the key was brought to me, and I took from the room'such
articles as I thought would be necessary on the trial. They
are here in the same situation as when I first took them. Thlere
are some pieces of cloth, pieces of towel, and pieces of a shirt,
which were taken from a trunk in Mr. Colt's room; also plieces
of a handkerchief, and a pamphlet, which, by request of Mr.
Emmett, I put my initials on at the time —also four sfamps of
Colt's bookkeeping, wh:ch are here present; a ball of twine,
which Mr. Elmmett also asked me to take- charge of-somne
papers, some letters, a receipt, two pocket hooks, (uarly
empty) whi. h I merely took because they were pocket-bu,oks.
By Mr. Selden —Mr. Colt was in custody at the time. I put
padlocks on both of the doors, (as evidence lhad been presented
to me that one of them had been entered by a key that did
not belong to it), and kept the keys for some time. In one of
the pocket books was a paper, endorsed, " Hair of Sarah Colt,
my mother; Margaret Colt, and Mary Colt, deceased."  There
was also a packa.ge containing documents endorsed, "My
little old aunt," different numbers; also some two or three letters from some individuals, a discharge for John C. Colt from
the marine service, dated Connecticut —(the prisoner appeared
to be very much depressed during this examination, leaning
his elbow on the back part of his counsel's chair, with his
hands over his eyes).
By the District Attorney —There were a great  lany other
articles found in the room, several papers and books; also a'hatchet, which is here shewn, (it was a perfectly new shingle
hatchet, apparently.very shiar,)-found no rope in the room.
David Kelso, sworn-I am thirty-eigllt years of age. Reside
at 42 Monroe street. Ain a pilot. Became acquainted with
Colt in the middle of May last. He cattle to board with my
16




242               REMARKABLE ~XIAL~.
sister-in-law, who lives there. IIe had a lady, whom ho called
Mrs. Colt. They messed with the family and occupi'ed a front
room in the third story. They had two black trunks and a
leather bag, whicl I assisted him in taking -up stairs. One of
the trunks stood in a recess in the entry. Was not home when
Justice Taylor came. The prisoner at the bar is the same
man.
By Mr. Selden-MIy business requires me to be absent a
great deal. Have often seen the trunk in the entry.
Dr. Chilton sworn —I am practiciing lphysician. Was called
to the room of Mr. Colt, corner of Broadwaty and Chamlbers
streets. Saw spots on the wall, sonme of thein an eighth of an
inch in diameter. I preserved them  for examination. Did
not observe any on the base. There were an immense number
of spots on the folding doors. Also took the hatcllet, which
was ptlaced in my lharge; also a piece of thle floor, hlaving a
stain on it. Thtlt -aws atll I took.:t the timne. I applied thie test,
and thle spots p,'oved to ihave been blood. Blood was oil the
hammer side of the hatchet, which had been inked over, as also
on the handle, near the eye of the hatchet, which had been
inked. Examined the spot on the piece of floor, which proved
to be blood; oil had been thrown round the base of the floor,
under which was blood. There was also a piece of newspaper,
which had mucli stains nton it. It was opened, and shllowed
much blood on it, and was also much torn. It was part of the
New York Herald of June 13, 1841. Applied the tests to this,
too, and found tle spots to be blood. A key and pen-kniie
was also subsequently handed mue by an officer, but I did not
perceive any blood on themn.
Mercy Octon (a light colored woman), sworn-I am the
wife of Law  Octon. Knew  the  p,)is,ner well. Was  in
the room  lie occupied  after Mr. Wheeler received  the
key b1ack, and cleaned olt the room. Mr. Colt asked me on
the sixteenth of Sept'ember to lend him a saw. Ile did not say
what he wanted of it. It was a little after four in the afternoon. I had not spo(ken to lnm more than to pass the day
whllen I met hiin. I lent him the saw [a common hand saw].
I took it to his ro(on.
DI),. Gilman, swolm. —I am  a practicing physician. Examined the body of Mr. Adams, It was on a Sunrlday. I was requested by thle coroner to go to the dead-house and examine a




JOHN C. COLT.                   243
dead body.  I went in company with Dr. IKissam. I there
found thle body of a Inan very much decayed. The Ibody was
l!ylng upon a table, and alongside of the tabl3e Was a box, frotn
which they told me the body had been taken. The body was
tied with a rope around the knees and carried to thle liead.
The thlihs were strongly bent up, and the head a little bent
forward. The body was excessively offnsive, and covered
with vertnin. Alter observing the general appearance of it,
had tlle rope cut, and the body extended. We tllen proceeded
to make an examinationl of something that appeared about the
]lead. The skull was fractured in several different places.
Tlhe right side of thle forehead, the socket of the eye, and a
part of tlle cheek bone were brokenl in., On the left side thle
fracture was higher up. The brw l]ad escaped, btt tbove that
the forelhead was beaten in. Tile two fiactures communicated
on the center of the forelrhead, so that the whole of the forehead
was beaten in, also the iigllt eye, and a part of the rilght
cheek. On the -other side of the head, directly above the ear,
there was a fracture, with depression of the bone-it was not
detached, it was dented in. This fracture was quite small.
There was a:lso a fracture on the left side of the hlead, a little
bellind and above the car, in which there was a round, clean
hole, so) that you might put your finger through it. Tilere was
no fracture on thle back part of the head. Two pieces, about
the size of the head of an ordinary nail, were cllipped or scaled
off; it was the part of the skull termed the occiput. The head
was so much depayed that the scalp could be removed fiom
the bone by a rulb of the finger. Examined the cavity of the
skull; found nothing but somn  pieces of bone, some of the size
of half a dollar. Examined the body-one of the legs, I think
thle left one, showed a dark mark near thle instep, but whether
from an old sore or a blow I could not tell. There -was a gold
ring on one of the fingers, which we took off. Measurled the
body-it was five feet rmine and a half inches in length. The
body was that of rather a stout but not a fat man. The ]lair
was long and black. Thtere was a small place on the back of
the head from which tlhe scalp was detached; but such was
also the case where tile fi'actures occurred. Cannot say deceased was any way bald. The whiskers were very small.
The sore was hard, dry, and alnost perfectly black. The rope
patssed from one knee to the other, and then to thle head. All




244              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
the blows on the head could readily hlave been made by the
hatchet here produced, except the round hole, which, I confess, I am at a loss to see how it could have been made by it,
but it might have been so. Do not think the sound in giving
such blows would resemble the clashing of foils. Have never
been in an adjoining room when foils have been struck. There
must at least have been five blows given-perhaps a good
many. If a ball had been fired from an air gun, it might lhave
made such a hole as that in the head, and a person receiving it
would be instantaneously killed, and unable to make any noise.
Diil not find any ball in the skull. A single blow ft'om a
hatchet, sufficiently strong to drive in the skull, as we found it,
would prevent a person fiorm crying out. The person would
not probably bleed much. There would be more blood from
sucl a blow than from a pistol ball.
By Mr. Selden-The outer skin of the surface first changes
color and decays, then the brain, which becomes a semi-fluid.
-Tlle wonlndson the right side of the face and the skull must
have been made by more than one blow, unless struck by the
head of a large axe. The wounds were probably done by a
blunt instrument (the hatchet shown has a hammer on one
side). The blow on the back part of the skull may have been
done by a sharp ifstrumlent or by a blunt one. The upper
part of the cheek bone was beaten back, as if from. a front
blow. Cannot reconcile the idea of a hole in the head being
mnade by the hatchet; a large nail being driven into the skull
would leave such an appearance. Examined the body before
it had been cleaned. There were vermin Obout the body, and
lime, but I saw nothing else. Heard observation there about
salt, but saw nothing of it. The examination continued from
one to two hours. Saw the body two or three times that day,
but not afterwards. [A. human skull wvns slown, also a bust,
from which Dr. Gilman described the situation of the wounds.]
Have seen a skull in which the back part has been'an inch
thick. The brain would not bleed very profusely on a fracture
of the skull. I oinitted to mnention on the direct examination
another wound that was observable, It was a fracture of the
lower jaw on the right side, about anl inch fromr the centre of
the cin. If cut with a sharp knife, wounds at this point
would bleed freely, but they did not appear to have been made
with such. Blood would cease to flow after life was extinct,




JOHN C. COLT.                245
except from gravity power, and then very slightly. The hole
was round, with slightly ragged edges, and similar to what
would have been made by a ball.
Dr. Kissam, sworn-IIeard the examination of Dr. Gilman.
Saw and examined the body he described. Tile features were
not recognizable. Do not know that the hole in the side of the
head could have been made by a hatchet-would rather. suppose, as Dr. Gilman observed, it resembled what would have
been made by anail. Never saw a wound in the head that
had been made by a ball. Had this been a ball hole, would
suppose it to have looked more regular. Examined the body
before it was washed, and saw nothing that looked like salt.
Chloride. of lime had been thrown on the box. Saw no wounds
except those on the head and the remains of what appeared to
have been one on the left temple. Think the wounds, other
than the hole, could have been made with the hatchet. Those
on the right side of the head could have been made by a sinm
gle blow from the side of the hatchet, and that on the  left by
one blow from the hamnmersside. The skull of deceased was
about of the ordinary thickness; that part where the hole
appeared is generally thin. The forehead on the left side was
not broken directly through.
By Mr. Whiting —The blow on the right side would have
struck a man down, and instantly caused death. The wound
on the left side might have been produced by a very heavy fall..Do lnot think a person oould receive such a blow on one side
and then turn the other. Cannot say how the hole was made.
It was a circular hole, with broken edges. It is barely possible
the wound was made with the hatchet. Thinks there might
have been considerable blood.
By IMr. Selden-My impression is that on such a blow being
given there would be an immediate relaxation of power. Have
heard of increased muscular action being caused on receipt
of a gun shlot wound, but have seen nothing of it.  A wound
of the kind would create at once an insensibility. The doctor
underwent furtherexamination, -confirmatory of what had already been said.
Dr. Archer, coroner, sworn-Witness examined the body
and described the wounds.  Took a ring from the finger of
the deceased. Showed it to Mrs. Adams at the time. Thinks




246               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
it unlikely that a blow from the hatchet would liave mnade the
hole in the beal.
By Mr. Solden —Was on board the vessel when tile box was
opened-, and also at the dead hlouse. Saw nothing that looked
like sat. Thlinks if there had been I would have seen it.
By Mr. Whllting-Assisted Mr. Milligan in reinovmg the
body.  Thinks tlleir labors were about equally divided.  Examined the box after tlie body was removed-there was part
of an awnvling, a coat, stock, pieces of mlat, and oakumn; saw no
appea!ance of anything else. Thle stock was c&t through, and
there was a corresponding cut about the lowver jaw.
Mrs. Adzims, w'idow of the mnrdered man, attended by her
fatlher, was then placed 1pono the stand; she was dressed in
deep mollrning, and seemed calil and composed.
Einelime B. Adatms sworn-My husband's name was Samuel
A(dams. At the time of his death, lie was aged about thirty
years, anll a printer by profession; his place of business was at
the corlier of Ainn and Gold street:.  My husband was last at
holne on the 17th of September, at noon, to dinner. He went
away a, little after.  DI)onot know where lie intended' to go
when lhe 1qft home.  lie did not return.  An advertisement
was put in the paper on Wedllesday. lie wore a  black coat
wlhen lie left homne, vest, gambroon pantaloons, a cotton shirt
and black stock, and had a ring on the small finger of one of
his hands. Did not see tle body at the dead hlouse. The ring
was sihown to me by tile coroner (ring llanded to witness); this
is the salne. The coat slhown to me was his.  Think it doubtful if I should know the sllirt again if I saw it.  Tile stock
shown was his. (The coat was here held up; it was sadly torn
and mnutiiated.)  I know the stpck, for I made it myself.  1e
had a watch, with a g Hld chain, key alid seatl. The. watch and
key slhownl are the salne, The key I wore two years myself.
Amn positive he had thle watch with Iiiim, wlhen he left home.
Do not kllow exactly how long lhe had it. Was in tlhe country
when lie got it, and had been gone for four or five weeks.
Tile watch hlad been Ia suibject of conversation. IHe sat on the
foot of thle bed orl Wednes day vlight; took hle Iey of my chain
and endeavorel with mny pincers to get the dents out.  IIHe
was at'0) Chatham street Wednesday evening  with me,; and
had it.




JN C. CO.?T.                    247
After the cross-examination of witness, she was handed
frolll the stand by her father, and immediately left the court.
Mr. Adamns' foreman, swor —I,am a printer, and have been
foreman to Mr. Adams about thirteen months; knew:Mr. Colt;
we published a system  of book-keeping for him; Mr. Ada-msmade tile chares in the bookL limself; MIr. Adamnsleft the office
on the 17th September, about 2 o'clock in the afternoon; lie did
not say anything at the time of leaving, and do not know what
way lhe went; had on a black coat, black stock, and ga llbro(on
pantaloons; did not see tlhe body,: nor tlie stock and coat, at
the Alts Hlouse; lhe did not return, and on l'us(lay I \wrote
an advertisement; I saw Mir. Colt in Mr:. Adam,' office about
a week before the time of the latter being missed; there was a
book printing for hiln then; it had been filnished; saw C(,lt also
on the daly after the advertisement was issued; he called at
the office between:' ten and eleven o'clock and enqlired f',r Ie;
we occupied three floo:s of the building; lie. camne suddenly
upon rme and asked it Mr. Adans- was in; lhe said hellc ad seen
the advertisemlent in the newspaper; I told himr he hlad been
mnissing since the previous Tuesday, and that if I hlad knowni
where to find his office I would hlave called to enquire of him;
he repl.ied that lie liad known MAr. Adarns for about three years,
and had: always foiund him:n very kind and a-ccomnmodatinr-; a
gentleman came into the offi;.e -ald Mr. Colt introdluced hlirtself to hlin; I told Mr. Colt that some of the sheets of hlis worit
remained: in the office, and- le asked me to take care of tllenl;
he spoke of some work that MIr. Adams bad'\formerly' done f,r
him, and I referred him to Mr.. Wells, a book-binder; I asIked
him i li he did not owe Mr. Adams about two hunidred dollars;
he replied he owed him about fifty dollars; le then left ne and
went nearly opposite to see Mr. Wells; did not see him again
previous to his arrest.
The box in which the body had been found was here brought
into court. It was a middle sized packing box of the ordinary appearance, with cleats. Tile awlling. which hlad been
stowed around the body was in it.
[Tlle prisoner- seemed to wince at the appearance of the box,
but young Mr. Emmett got into conversation with him  and
seemed to draw him off from the examination.]
John Johnson sworn-I am a clerk at No. 8 City IIall Place.
Do not know Colt. IKnew Mr. Adams since January, 1S41;




248              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
saw him in the month of September, particularly on the seventeenth, when I saw him three times, at his office, at the office of
the Board of Foreign Missions, and in Chambers street near the
Post Office, about 3 o'clock P. M. He was going from Centre
street to Broadway, on the side next the Post Office; did not
speak to him at the time; he was walking moderately. I was
going from the Post Qflice newspaper room to Chambers street;
he used to speak to me wnen we met, but did not on this occasion, and I suppose he did not take notice of me.; i turned and
looked after hiln; he kept on; I did not see him after that time
Previous to that, between twelve and one, I had seen seen him
at his office; went to get a proof of a job he had been in the
habit of printing. He did not give it to me, but said he would
bring it to the office.
Objected to.
Several witnesses were examined, who testified relative to the
watch worn by Mr. Adams.
After this examination, the District-Attorney read an adver
fisement from the Courzer relative to the ship Kalamazoo being
about to sail for New Orleans. The advertisement was continued
for two or tlree weeks.
An advertisement was also read from the Sun of September
22nd, stating that Mr. Adams was missing, and asking
information relative to him to be left at the residence of his
brother in-law, in Catharine street.
David Downs, sworn-I was acauainted with Samuel Adams,
and had been intimate with him for fivei years; saw the body
in the dead house, and believed it' to have been his. Knew it
by the foot, hair, and size of the person. Am a boot and
shoemaker, and acquainted-with the size of his foot. Considered him to be a man who was very reserved and of very good
temper. I had a high respect f;r the man, and thought a
great'deal of him. I had made boots and shoes for himself
and famrily, f:nd got cards printed in pay.
Charles Wells, sworn-I am engaged in the oook businesslat
fifty-six Gold street. Was acquainted with MIr. Samuel Adams
for five or six years.  Iad some business transactions Kwith
him. We were often at each other's places. His general
telnper I have supposed to be good, but never saw himi under
circumstances by which it would be tried. Saw him  on the
seventeenth of September at two o'clock. I had proposed that




JOHN C. COLT.                 249'he should print a Dook for me, and take the pny in binding.
HIe int'ormed me soon afterwards that he was doing some printing for Mr. Colt, and asked me to bind that. Tile slheets were
sent to the place where I hlave folding done. They came to the'
bindery, and a portion of them were finished on the morning
of the seventeenth of September. Mr. Colt came in and said
he had been in the bindery, and wished the books forwarded
to Philadelphia. He had been there three times previous relative to them, and had made out invoices for the tr ade (or public) sale at that place. I went -out and returned about one
o'clock, when my people were bringing the books down below.
Sent for Mir. Adamls to get his directions. Told Ilimn that Mr.
Colt had- ordered the books to be sent to Philadelphia, and
asked if it was all right. He answered " Yes, I believe it is
all right. I am to get the proceeds." I remarked from what
I heard Mir. Colt say in the morning, there must be some misunderstanding between them. He turned round and said he
would go and see. The work had been delayed by Mr. Adams,
which gave me some trouble. The trade sales had been held
in New York on the thirtieth of August, and in Philadelphia
on the sixth of September. Samples werq sent by me to tlhe
New York sales. Said to Mr. Adams a mnisunderstanding
was apparent, as Mr. C(lt spoke of expecting to obtain the proceeds himself; he left my place after two o'clock, and I have
not seen him since.
By Mr. Selden —The proceeds of the four hundred volumes
would hlave been from one hundred and twenty-five to one
hundred and fifty dollars; Mr. Colt informed me that the proceeds as sold by sample at Philadelphia, would be one Lutdred and seventeen dollars.  Told Mr. Adams that Colt expected the proceeds; I thll ight it was my duty to tell him;
he only said "I will go and see;" he did act shaw temper,
b',t seemed esurprised that there could have been a misunderstanding; hie was a man of very few world; a great Lnt'IV
persols have spolken to lie on tle subject; I do not recollect
sayilig that Mr. Adams wais flexed when he left my store; I
lhardly dared to say anything about it for the first Hive or six
days, there was so mueli confusion; the work was not got'out
in sea-on for the New York trade sale. Mr. Colt had said Mr.
Adams was very kind to him; and had bought himn paper for




250                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
his works; but did not speak of th.e paper for this book. Mr.
Colt appeared to be worried. and anxious to get them  off,. so
much so that I thought hlie intended to run. aw-ay,.  The pla'tes
cost at least t]lree hlundred dollars,-perhaps more. I believe
tlley are now in my vault. Do not know who put them: there.
Know it was; a good worl,; and supposed I would endeavor to
(obtain the cop y right.  Con versed with Mir. Adams on the subjcet, and- learned that Colt was not the owner of it. I thought
fromn the tenor of C, lt's rel-lar'ks, tlat, he supposed tire delay
was caused by me. He said if they could be got out any soonier
by pl)aying the cash at once, it should be done. I replied that
the binding had been hlurried as much as possible..  There are
two books —" The Teacler's edition," andc a smaller one called
thle' Second edition." —Mr. Adams allowed me ten cents; ffor
bindintg the stnall one. and fifteen cents for the large oneabout half of eachl had been prepared in the four hundred
copies., I believe the plates were put inlto my vaultby:I Mr.
Adams for safe keeping. I- saw tllem  there before knowing
MI r. Colt. The work was a super royal octavo.  The paper
was bought of M3r. Field by Mr.. Adamrs, and MIr. Coelt'  note
given for the amllotwit. At first felt grieved to think I hads sent
Mr. Adatns to Colt's room, but on reflection supposed I was
iighl~t, and under similar circumstances thought I should do so
again.
By Mr. Whliting-He did appear to be vexed, thel day sub.
sequent. Mr. Colt came into  iry room and said, this is very
stirange, wlat could have beconme- of hirm.- I did not look  ti,,
but he catne and put his hband on: my desk.  I said "I do not
kn.-ow; the last I saws of him. lhie said he was going to see
you."  lie dJd nlot appear'a to mlake much answer, but stepped
back and a!lpeared to make sirniiar expressions as' at first. We
then began to tall about the books. It was betweer. ten and
twevoe eo,'ock..  He clhanged coulltenanea a little and stepped
ba.i;  I tfet hulrt; a lit!.'e to thlink I had told hin, as I knew I
shtould feel hurt rnysl't' to hlave such an expression made. to me.
HIe at? erwardsl alppea.ed to evade the question.
By tlhe (.'outrt -— The- four' h'undr'ed volumes were sent to Philode phia on the next day.  I understand that Mr. Colt has
since (receilved the proceeds. The invoice was under the name
of B. V Foster & Co.
Jo1hn L. B!ahe sworn —I am a clergymar residing in Brook



JOHN C. COLT.                    25.i
lyn; k:lmw Mr. Adams for five or six years; -he occupied the
up,)er part of the bliildiung in whllich I was (Blake & Co.'s, GO;ld
street), for about three years; saw him frequenltly; lhe wts in
thehabiit of doing tile printinlg for the establishmenult, a.nd
saw himn over three times a day; lie removed, and c,nlltinud
doing a portion of the printing to tlhe day of his death; Elaw
him probably a thousand times. Ih ile he was engaged in his
business; his temper was nulsually passive and mrlll:d; lis boys
were. frequently noisy, and he did not appear to have the
necessalrr energy to keep thele  in proper discipluin:e; I am ('not
-able to state what hlle would: do under circumstances of i'rritat ion
such as lhe experienced; but I never heard him saying as lb,udc
a word as could be heard across the room.  The worl at the
latter part of the time was not donie so'well as it had been, as lihe
elmployed a number of these irresponsibleo yomng men. Strong
fault was found with him, but I never heard him answer inl any.
petulanrt nanner.  I spoke harshly to; him  once myself unintentionally.  Ile made no replyS, but I saw that lis feelings
were mach affcted, and thlat lhe slhed a tear.
Several other witnesse9 were. exam-in~ed,, who, testified to tlle
mild chartacl er of [Mr. Adar's.
Williatnm,. Ironside, sworn —..Was employed in the- granite
building. with iMr. Slocum.  Slept in the third story; sleupt
there in the month of September.  Noticed somlething sincgular one night about twelve o'clock. HIad shut up the store. and:
was going up stairs.  Heard a great hammering, andl  mentioned it nlext day. It was on Friday tight, and in1 o1ne of the
rooms on the second floor, to thle right hand side., It sounded
as if some one was nailin(, ul., a A bx. I was friglltened at first,
and-wetlt back, but returned and proceeded to iyrv 1'o0!i1. Next
morning I saw several boxes-they were coming and going all
tile tilme. I did not notice any in, particular.
By Mr. Selden-Slept in the third story, with: my uncle,.Ir.
Ironsides. HIe is not in the city now. I was asleep whelln lie
came home. Told the follks in the store next morning. and my
mother on the, same. evening, as I went home on Saturday
night.  Loc'ked the ha'l di-or when I went up stairs.
Charlets J.' Walker, sworn-Amn a pictuee-f1alne makler.
Kept with Mr. Ritner in the granite buildin.s; as;cd. 3M:'s. Octon for the lotan of a saw on Thlursd-ay. She direc; ed: n to go.
to Mr. Colt for it. I went to his room, and knocked two or




252              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
three times. Heard some one inside sawing. Finally Mr.
Colt came to the door; I asked himn for the saw, and he told
me to go to hell. The door was fastened inside, and Mr. Colt
opened it but a very little way.
John Golden, swc,)rn —I tam a milkman. Left milk at the
basement saloon of the building corner of Broadway and
Chambers street. Saw a man occupied in the vault of the saloon, opposite the area, the latter part of the week in September, working on boards. It was between seven and eight
o'clock. The man was tall, and started when lie saw me. He
looked so wild I thought lie was going to strike me. He had a
saw and hatchet.
Mr. Monahan sworn-Was foreman with MIr. Adams for
fourteen months. Saw him in a passion twice-once when a
man threatened to sue him. He replied that the other would
get his imloney no sooner. Did not make use of bad language.
Have seen him vexed. His pay:day was every other Sa'turday, and would have been such the day after he was missed.
His bills amounted to a hundred or a hundredl and fifty dollars. Do not know that he had made any arrangements to
raise the money.
By Mr. Selden-Understood that the Butcher's Bank had a
mortgage upon the office. He might lhave been a little behindhand with his workmen, but not a great deal. [Witness was
handed the books of Mr. Adams, with list of his workmen, as
marked paid, and lie declared them to be his.]
By the Court —Do not know whether lihe had any money
with Ilim on the seventeenth of Septemnber, or whether'he carried a pocket-book.
Mr. Sparks sworn-I am administrator on the estate of Mr.
Adams. Ite was a very goo(:l-tempered man.
By Mr. Selden-Ilave had the books in nly possession since
the thirteenth of October. They do not appear to have been
regularly kept. Accounts were open which he should have
credited.
By the Court —It is doubtful whether the estate is solvent
or not.
Joseph L. Lane sworn-I am father-in-law to Mr. Adams.
Had kn,-wn him about five years. He was married to my
daughter about three years ago. Recognized the body at the




JOHN C. COLT.                 253
dead-house. by the scar on his left leg. He usually carried his
money and papers about him in a large pocket-book.
Nicholas Conklin, gunsmith, sworn-Reside at 9 ) Clhatham
street. Was acquainted with Mr. Adams, and know him to
have been of an amiable disposition. Himself and Mrs. Adams
were at my house the evening before lie was missing. Know
the watch, and talked of buying it from hlim.  iHe hd it with
him  thlen. Offered himn eighty-five dollars for the watch, but
he wanted ninety.
Officer A. M. C. Smith, swoMn-Arrested Mr. Colt; found
the hatchet under a lot of papers and a trunk placed over them,
found a pail there, and also saw the other things already de.
scribed.
John P. Brinkerhoff, sworn-Was called upon to have the
contents of the sink at No. 42 Monroe street, cleared, and also
that of the granite building raked, with a view to find clothing, but none was discovered.
Mr. Wheeler recalled-Told Mr. Colt that I had let his room
to Mr. Delncce, and he was anxious to get it. Akso mentioned
to him on tile Satorday morning that he camle into tile room
to see if iny key would open the door, that I wanted Ihis room,
as Mr. Delnoce had been obliged to sleep in my room  that
night. Colt observed that he thought he saw a light in the room,
but corrected himself as he had just before stated that he was
absent the previous afternoon and evening. Onl the 13tll September, on the evening of the day on which we had the controversy about the relit, Mr. Colt came into my room. We
spoke of his brother, and I asked him if lie (the brother), was
the inventor of the patent pistol; he replied that he was, and
asked me if I had seen any of his pistols. I replied that I had
not. He said he had one in his room and would go and get if
and let me see it. He went in and got it. It had a beautiful
p)earl handle, and four or six barrels-I think six; also explained to me a very ingenious mode of detonating with 
cylinder; the barrels were about four inches in length. It had
his brother's name on; I think at any rate lie said it was his
brotller's. He did not explain its capacity for propelling.
By Mr. Selden-The person I saw stooping down after I
heard the noise, had his side towards the hall door, and his
head in a westerly direction.  He was near the folding door.
Cannot say as to the qualities of the pistol 1 saw; the handle




,9 45Z             REMARKABLE TRIALS.
and all wals about eight and a half incle,: long..My attention
was particul~arly attracted( by the elegance with which it was
Aw roughlt. I had it iln my hand; I had often been in l:is room
-ofteller than lie was in mine.  Am certain he had t;Ole pistol
three or folr days before the 17th. Was,ot questioned by the
Grand Jury in regard to the pistol. Told Mri. Whliting of it
last. Friday. Tllink I mighlt lhave mentioned the c-ircul,,lstlance
to Justice Taylor soon after the affair, but:alm not certain.
Tlholglllt of tfle pistol after the discovery of the murder.
Mli. De: orest, French consul, sworn —lad pIurc!las; d a pair
of Colt's pistols, of the pattern shown. 5We tried some of them
on board the Belle Poule.  When merely propellead by a cap
the ball was sentt one hundled and fifty or onre ihundred and
sixty feet, struck and dented a board, and rebounded ten or
twelve feet. When fired at twelve feet the ball wenlt through
two thick covers of a book, The sound is like the cracking of
a whip; cannot say tile sound is like the clashling of foils.
The experiments we'e made with Colt's pocket pistol.
Jaties Short sworn — Washed tile body at the dead hlouse;
cut the rope from the neck and the right knee, and also picked
the bones fiom tile skull, washed tllenl anld gave them  to the
doctors. The rope wlas a very thick one. Washed the body
after the doctors had examined it: I saw silt on the body, and
washed it off. Deceased was salted, but I cnllnot say how much
salt was on him; but am sure lie was sa:lted.  Do not klnow
hiow many pieces of skull there were.  I to,k them out of the
llead. washed them in a 1.pail, and tlie d,~ctos took account of
them   The first piece was a.bout the breadth of yourn finger, as
if struck by a hlammer. TOok out at least three pieces of skulll.
Both eyes were in. Saw no cuts about tile jaw; only saw thle
hiea-l as if beat in with a hammer. Put tile body in a coffin.
Forgot to pat the bones in, but wrapped them  in a piece of
paper and ran to the lburial grounds afterwards, and pl.ced
then, in the grave with the coffin.
By M'. Selden —Tlle grave yard was down that way (pointinm' towards the Batttery).  I do not know the streets in this
city.  I am no scllolalr. The s.ilt was all over the body. Igot
into the box and showed a gentleman  how the body lay in it
wlhen found,'vth its limbs doubled up, and the head leaning
on one side of the box and the feet onil tleI other.




JOTIN.. ccL,.                   2565
This closed the testimony for the prosecution, when District-Attorney Whiting here rose, and remarked that he would
then rest.
THE DEFENCE.
John A. Morril, Esq., one of the counsel for the prisoner,
then roze and remarked as follows: Gentlemen of the jury —
it now becomes the duty of the counsel for the prisoner-their
solemn duty-to enter more minutely into the examination of
the evidence which has been produced against the unfortunate
individual who stands before y(,u —a young man just entering
into life, who has no friend around him but a brother —who is
deprived by misfortune of the presence of his father —you
know  vliere his mother is, and also where are his beloved sisters. While you have synpathy for hiim, I must admit that
you must also feel the loss sustained by the widow of Mr.
Adams, one who lhas been bereaved by the loss of a tender and
affectionate husband. The people ask that the laws shall be
fairly administered, but while they do so, are sometimes carried away, and without thought will condemn an individual
unheard. But the jury must lay aside these feelings-must
lay aside feelings not only for tile unfortunate prisoner, but for
Mrs. Adams and for public prejudice.  You mtrust take hold of
this case with clear, dispassionate Iminds, remembering to blend
with just ce the attributes of mercy. The counsel on tle other
side is all powerful, and it was necessary to fight the cause, as
we have, fiorn one step to another, knowing that'" trifles light
as air" mtay have much effect on a case like this. A man will
fighlt for his life, and the counsel will contend not only for that
life but for justice to thie prisoner. It is with this feeling, and
not with tlhe view to detain the jury, that we have been thus
lllilune. Gentlemen, John C. Colt, poor and friendless, a fellow citizen, comes before you charged with crime. He comes
l'eft,le' you in detfence of that litfe which is dear to all. He asks
you- to mrete out to hirn justice-it is all he asks, it is all we
ask. We seek but one thing —it is that we may have mercy
u:ccording to law-and it' le has such, we have no doubt that
Ilh, will find a safe deliveruance at your lbands.
Saimuel Colt was the first witness cllled for the defence-I
ain the inventor of Colt's patent fire arms, and am acquainted
with their construction. [Mr. Colt was then requested to shlow




256               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
some experiments touching the power of the pistol with a cap.
-Ie placed balls in the cylinder of one about eight or ten inches
long, and propelled them by percussion caps, which he stated
to be of great strength.  There was a loud report, and he
canght the balls in his hand as they came from the b:arrel. Tle
then fired at an open book at a few paces which he struck, the
ball penetrating nine leaves and indenting twenty-four. IHe
also tried a patent pocket pistol at a distance, which made very
little impression.] Witness never made pistols with more than
one barrel except at first, about ten years ago, and then only
kept them as models.
Dr. Zabrisky, sworn-I am practising physician and chemist.
Had at one I:eriod charge of the patent arms store in Broadway.  IHave fired off the pistols with a cap thousands of
times, in order to exhibit them.  Do not suppose, from my
knowledge of the hlnuman skull, that it could be penetrated by
a ball propelled only 1), a cap —it is impossible that the skull
could have been more than bruised. I w:as never able but once
even to indent a fire-board with a ball sufficiently deep to make.t stick. The patent article, when fired with powder, makes
more noise than common firearms.
Bya.Tu-or —The impression did not appear to be so great
at five feet distance as at twenty feet. Think it would be impossible for a ball to make a hole sucll as represented, in the
head of deceased, by a ball from Colt's pistol, propelled by a
cap.
The District Attorney here stated it was necessary to have
Mr. Adams' skull produced in Court, Dr. Mott being present,
who wished to examine it.
The Corolle', Dr. Archer, stated that the body had probably
been re-interred by this time; a minute examination of the
wound had been made.
Dr. Gilman, sworn-Was present that forenoon at an examination of the body, which laid in a small building inside of
the burial grounds. We first examined the cavity of the skull.
There wa-s no foreign substance there whatever. Our attention
was then directed to the round hole over the left ear, a little
back. My little finger passed in, and rested at the second
joint. The wound is slightly oval-one part is a very trifle
larger than the other. On the anterior portion of the hole was
beaten in the twelfth part of an inch. It was made as if a round




JOHN C. COLT.                  2J:7
file had been applied to the inside of the hole. Some of the
physicians thought the skull was not so thick as nsual, but I
did not see that such was the case. It is inconceivable to nime
how it is possible that such a hole could hlave been made by a
hatchet; it is more easy to suppose it could have been done
by the driving of a nail; a nail might have been driven in it,
and the working of the body caused the circular hole. Th3
appearance of the wounds iin front are as if Miade by the halnmer part of the hatchet. My opinion is changed from what it
was. I think it improbable that the hole was made-by a ball
of any description.
Dr. Rogers recalled-It is impossible to say what particu.
lar degree of injury would be necessary to create insensibility.
In some cases, it is created by a very small sized wound-in
others, even where the whole fiont of the top of the head was
broken in, as a wound caused by the falling of a block from a
masthead, where the man preserved his senses throughout,
and got well. The witness, James Shotrt, got into the box, as
he described, to show how the body lay. It was a kind of
across the box; the left side of the head lay against the inside
of the box. A nail projecting into the box about an inch, I
should suppose, must have penetrated the head of the body in
any way it moved.
By.  Juror-A blow that struck in the rignt side of the skull
might also have injured the cheek bone.
Witness resumed-. Think, from the wounds shown, that the
hemorrhage wias great and instantaneous. The wounds on the
forehead and right side might possibly have been made by a
single blow from the side of the hatchet. Tile man got into
the box yesterday to show me how tile body lay. Thle nails
in the box were about two inches long, and the one I alluded
to projected about an inch.
By the Court —Think the action of the body in carrying it to
Maiden lane, putting it on board the vessel, and afterwards
carrying the body to the dead-house, miglit have been sufficient
to drive the nail through the head.' Do not think the force
shown by the ball in the experiments this morning would even
have fracturid the skull.
Victor Becker, sworn —Lived at No. 3. Murray street from
May. 1840. to May, 1841. After we moved away, Mr. Colt




253              InEMAR.KALE -TRIALS.
went in. We left an awning in the garret. -SaNt the one at
the Tombs. It was the same.
By ]Or. Whiting-M-y f.lther's falnily now live down at 141
Fulton street. IKzow the awning by a piece of linen I had
fastened to it. My fatlher left tlhe awning in the front of the
house. Did not know ]Mr. Colt. Mr. Nelson occupied tlhe
house afterwards. The awning was still'on the house on the
first of July. AMy fa;:l-her said he was there on the second, and
it was gone. I-Iave be-en to the granlite building, but not to
see [Mr. Colt. My father does not speak English very plain.
My father left the awniIlg because he supposed the person who
nmoved in might wa:at to buy it. No ole bought it, though it
was taken away. It was fastened to the house by iron rings.
Miy father went to France last Saturday. I was requested by
iMr. Colt and Mir. Robinson to go upl and look at the awning.
Did so about three weeks ago.  -Iave no doubt but it is the
slime.
Jolhn N. Lee, sworl —I am an engraver, and keep at No. 3
Mui ray street. M[:. Colt moved into the building in May.
S.lw a box in his room.  ile was preparing his work. HIe
brought in a hatchet one morning, and said it was very lhandy.
I bought one afterwards. Mine is riot like the one here shown,
Ibut has an axe form. HI-e had been in the habit of borrowing
a hammer from me. IIe had moved away, and the awning
was gone, but I did not suppose he took it. I never saw any
irritability about hin. IIe was gentlemanly in his appearance
to inc, and I the same to him.
By Mr. Whiting-Did not know his associates. Have seen
nen:in his palace..
By a Juror —IIe showed me the hatchet before leaving
Mlurray street.
Cyrus W. Field, sworn-I am a paper dealer. Made paper
to order and on account of Mlr. Colt in July and August, 1841.
The terms were to be one half cash and one half a good note.
Ile gave the direction No. 3 Murray street. In Auggiust sent to
inquire, and lhe was not there. Soon afterwards, Mr. AdaLms
carne in, having, in his hand a letter fronm Mr. Colt, dated Bos-.ton, and requesting I should let Mr. A. have the paper. Told
Mir. Adamns -the terms. The latter said Mr. Colt had always
paid him; and tlme books should not go out of his hands till the
noney was paid. I let him have ten reamts. Tile balance of




JOHN C. COLT.                   259
the paper wm.s delayed in coming from Hartford here, and MBr.
Adams was very anxious about it. On the twenty-fifth of, August Mr. Colt came in, and said it was too late for the trade
sale, but, if I would give him time, he would take the balance
of tile paper, and have the work perfected for the Philadelplia
trade sale, getting his returns in time to pay for the paper.
Mr. Adamis thoulgt the note of Mr. Colt would be good for the
amount. The two lots came to one ]lundred and twenty-onle
dollars and sixty-eiglit cents, ftob which  I took Mr. Colt's note
at three months, which note is unpaid. The paper was sentto
Mr. Adanls' office. Understood the plates cost over three
hundred dollars.
By Mr. Wlhiting,-I never saw Mr. Adams kexcited, but, on
the contrary, supposed him to be extremely amiable; indeed,
too easy.
[The liead of Mr. Adams W.:a3 here brought into court by the
physicians and coroner, while the latter sat with it in his lap,
wtl'aped up, beside the reporter's table. Colt sat on one side,
within a few. feet of it. The hand that struck the blow  and
the!ead that was still in death came'learly in contact.]
Doctor Miott had been sunb])enaed by the counsel for the
defence, and he requested through the District-Attorney that
he mligh1t now be examlined.
[[Mr. Selden, the District-Attorney, Doct6rs Mott and Arch er,
and othlers, agreed that the lhead of Mr. Adams, which was in
possession ot the coroner; slould be taket  into an adjoining
room and be examined, and Doctor Mott afterwards give his
evidence. The District-Attorney announced the fact to the
coutrt, who acceded to it. The prisoner looked towards the
head as tile coroner took it out. What must have been his
feelings!]
)Dr. Rogers, recalled —Iave examined  the head of Mr.
Adllny.  Am, well satisfied from the examination and comparing tile latcllet with the wound, that the hole was made with
the;sharp side of thie hatchet. It fits the wound precisely.
Tie. District-Attorney requested tla;t the skull and axe'should
be shown to the jury.
Mr. Selden objected.
Judge Kent stated that, however painful it was, justice
should  be administered, and the head produced, if the jury
thought it necessary.




260             REMARKABLE TRIALS,
The District-Attorney observed that they were orly seeking,
trulth; desperate efforts were making to break down the testimony. If it could be avoided he would gladly agree not to have
the skull exhibited, but it was necessary that the jury should
see it.
The skull was then handed to Dr. Rogers by the coroner,
and exhibited to the jury. Never was there a more thrilling
sight. The court room was crowded to excess and the head
was held up in his fingers by Dr. Rogers. He placed the corner of the axe in the hole over the left ear, which precisely
fitted it. Hte then put the hammer part in the fracture or indentation on the other side, which joined in it fairly as a mould.
He then explained the wounds in front. It was, indeed, a
dreadful sight.
Colt held his hands over his eyes while the examination was
going on.
Dr. Archer, sworn-The body has been twice exhumed today, and the skull taken from the coffin which bears his name
and age. The hole in the head seems to agree with the corner
of the axe; but the blow most likely to have caused insensibility was one struck behind, which thie hammer part of the
hatchet exactly fits.
The jaw bone was also produced, which was broken in halves.
Dr. Archer went on to explain the nature of the wounds, and
the head was minutely examined by the jurors.
Dr. Mott sworn-He examined the skull.. Think the small
hole was inflicted by the hatchet. If the hole was made from a
ball, it was different tfrom what I have ever seen.' Believe it to
have been given from the front. Also examined the wound behind. It is impossible to say how the party stood. Do mot
think the front part of the head could have been driven in, as
this one shows, by a single blow. Do not know what blow
created insensibility. There are no two cases alike. Either of the
blows hereshown would have knocked any man down. I have
seen a man recover and walk with nearly a quarter of his skull
knocked in. No man can tell how many blows have been given.
i. Have no dobt that the hole was made with the hatchet.
Previous to this thrilling examination, all the ladies in court
had retired.
Nathan G. Burgess, sworn-Am  acquainted with John C.
Colt.'Have known him since.137. Was engaged with him in




JOHN C. COLT.                  261.
Cincinnati in that year publishing Delafield's Antiquities of
America. HIe was engaged previously teaching book-keeping.
The work was got out ill New York by subscription in 1839, we
having come here for that purpose. It was published in the
name of Colt, Burgess & Co., and we lost a thousand dollars by
it. I am still indebted to Mr. Colt. IIe always treated me like
a gentleman. He kept in Cortlandt street after coming
here.
Mr. Selden here called several witnesses who did not answer.
lie then asked if Miss Henshaw was in court.
The crier called Caroline M3I. lIenshaw. —[The mistress of
Colt.] 
Miss HIenshaw then advanced to the stand, and created quite
a sensation among the audience.: She wore a dark bonnet,
black veil, and light cloth cloak. She was handed a chair,
threw back her veil, and presented anl interesting appearance.
On, being sworn, she testified as follows-Am acquainted
with John C. Colt. Have known him fifteen months. Knew
him before I came from Philadelphia here.,Came on soon after
him from Philadelphia; about three months after. IHad lived
with him from the eleventh of May to the time I understood he
had been arrested. I reside at No. 42 Monroe street. Have
been in this city since Jan'tary, and reside at Captain Hart's,
corner of Catharine and Madison streets. Mr. Colt was generally in firom half-past nine to ten o'clock in the evening. He
was engaged in book-keeping. His office was at the corner of
Chambers street and Broadway. On the evening of the seventeenth of September, I think he was not home at the ordinary
hour, but can't state positively. Ile was frequently out with a
gentleman named Mloore, and I generally went to bed soon.
Do not recollect of his being out one evening later than usual.
Recollect one evening when he returned home after I had gone
to bed, and supposed it was late. It was within the week before his arrest. Think li he was out till eleven or twelve o'clock.
He had not been in the habit of being, out late at night. He
was always home before ten o'clock.
By Mlr. Selden —He had been absent some time in the latter
part of the week before. His deportment was different after
that night. He seemed strange in his conduct, and disinclined
in conversation. I was asleep when Mr. Colt came home that




26 2              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
evening. I woke up wllen lie had got on his night-shirt, and
asked him.wlat time it was. Hle said it was a little after
eleven. Next morning he went away early. I awoke as he
was just about to leave the room, and asked him where he was
going so early. He said he was going to the boat; he might
be back soon, or might not be back to breakfast. He returned
about ten or hatf-past ten o'clock. After his return he undressed,
bathed himnself with spirits, and went to bed. He bathed his
shoulders and neck. After he had got into bed, I went to the
bed side, it being unusual for him to go to bed in the day. IHe
was not asleep. I observed on hii neck a black -mark. I commenced speaking, and he said [objected to by the District Attorney]. The marks were on one side of his neck, as I could
only see one side. He generally slept with his night-shirt open,
but for two or three nig'hts afterwards he slept with his. nightshirt pinned up.  Cannot say which side of the neck it
was.  He continued  to rub  his  neck  afterwards. with
spirits.
By Mr. Emmett-Remember being called upon by Justice
Taylor. HIad heard that Mr. Adams had disappeared on a
a Friday. Believe the night that Mr. Colt was absent was on a
Friday night. As he lay in bed after his return, his night-shirt
was pinned high up in the neck by the binding. He showed no
unwillingness to state what had occurred. [Objected to by Mr,
Whiting, who said he was unwilling to allow in evidence what
Mr. Adams had said.] Ile appeared very stiff, as if he had
caught a cold or something of that kind. The stiffness- continued'up to the time of his arrest.
[The witness was directly opposite the prisoner during the
examination, within about ten feet, and seemed favorably disposed towards him. Colt kept his eye steadily meeting
hers.]
By 3Mr. Whiting-First became acquainted with Colt at Philadelphia, at the house.of Mrs. Stuart. He. first made arrangeinents to come to New York in January, a year ago.  Became
acquainted with him in the month of August preceding. Mrs.
Stuart was not a relation. I visited at her house. Mr. Colt
did not board there, but came with a gentleman.'Did not live
with hinm before'l came from Philadelphia.  At Mr. Ilart's I
passed by the name of Mrs. Colt. We did not furnish our own
room. Mr. II. furnished it for us. Nor did we at 42 Monroe




JOHN C. COLT.                  263
street, though we had a few articles.  Was also l;nown there as
Mlrs. C olt. Occupied a room in the third story. Miessed'with
the family we lived with. -Occupied no other room in any part
of the house..Mar. Colt's trunk stood in the entry. It was the
same that Justice Taylor took, as was also the carpet-bag.
We moved from Catharine to Mvonroe street. Was not in the
habit of going to bed at a particular hour. Sometimes early
and sometimes late. When Ar. Colt went out of an evening I
generally went with him. I-Ie was very seldom out, but when
he was out I did not sit up for him, but generally woke up when
he came into the room. Did not keep a light burning in tile
room through the night. Sometimes I put out the light when
1 went to. bed at times when lie was absent.  There were
matches in the room. Do not remember whether I put out
the lights that night or not. Do not well remember the night
of-the seventeenth. Only remember he was out late if that was
the seventeenth of September, Remember his being out late on
the night before the Saturday lie went out early. It was the
Saturday previous to his arrest. I went to bed early in the
evening; cannot say the hour. The family took tea about seven
o'clock. I cannot say whether he was home to tea or not. Ile
was home to dinner. A lady (Mrs. Burke) who boarded in the
house, came into the room and we talked some time before I
went to bed. We had a very small clock over the dressingtable, but do not remember having looked at. it. It was not a
dressing,-table,'but we called it such; the glass stood in a frame.
Mr. Colt wound up the clock every morning. Went to bed and
soon to sleep. Do not remember whetler I put out the lightor
not. I slept soindly, and generally did. The door was not
fastened. I did not wake that evening before Mr. Colt came
home. When I first saw him he was undressed, and had his night
shirt on. There was a light in the room, and he stood directly
opposite to the glass. I then saw his side face. I did not get
up. The dressing-table stood by the window, at the foot of the
bed, our feet to it. I remained lying in the bed after I saw
him. There was no space between the table and' the bed. In
loki.ng into the glass a person lying in bed could see the - right
side face of a person standing in front of the glass.- Could not
see the face of the clock as I lay-in bed.- -Mr. Colt blew out the
candle immediately on my awakening, and came directly to
bed. I do not remember speaking to him, but think it very




-264             REMARKABLE TRIALS.
likely l did, as  generally spoke to him as he came Into the
room. He came into the bed about a minute or two minutes
after I first saw him. Cannot say what he was doing those one
or two minutes. IIe might have been fixing his clothes. Iie
did not go out of the room. I turned over, and as I did so he
came into bed. I-Ie generally threw his clothes over the back
of a chair. The chair stood at the foot of the bed, but do not
remember seeing his clothes on it. I went to sleep again, and
woke in the morning when it was broad daylight, and Mr. Colt
was leaving the room. The sun rises early at that season, but
as the blinds were thick, could not see whether the sun rose or
not. Mr. Colt: was in the habit of getting up between the first
and seeon(l ringing of the breakfast bell. IHe went out that
mnorning, before the ringing of the first bell, but I cannot say
whether it was a very long or a very short time. I-Ie did not
return to breakfast. I did not observe that he had anything in
his hands. Was surprised at his going. out so early and spoke to
him. I think if he had had anything in his hand I would have
seen it. The carpet-bag was kept under the head of the bed,the room Xwas so small we had no other place to keep it. It was
never left outside, and I had access to it after I had washed his
clothes and put them in it.
By M{r. Whiting —Was he dresse 1. lIo was; do you suppose a gentleman would go into the street without?  Am not
positive the clothes were the same as those he wore the day
before, but they were like them. IIe had three or four pair
of pantaloons, and two coats; one pair of the former were
black cloth, and, the others lighter, something of a pearl color.
One of the coats was a black dress, and the other a frock. Do
not remember which he had on that day. He had lmng blue
socks which he wore on Friday. I-Ie was in the habit of putting the clothes away himself. Remember going to the carpet-bag that morning. The litter we made in the room we
generally put into the bag. Did so after he went out that
morning. Put some rags and things in it that lay about the
room, but did not put a newspaper in. Went to a trunk that
morning, but did not take anything out, or put anything in.
Do not remember why I went to it. Do not know whether he
changedil his linen or not. The way I know he came in about
eleven, the ladies ha(dl company that night, and they did not
have company very late, and they said he came in about that




JOHN C. COLT.                   265
time. I mean to say he was absent two nights of the week
previous to his arrest-the first night I inew the time by the
clock, the Friday night by what the young ladies told ine. It
was Miss Ann Kelso who told me. The two nights were before the preceding Sunday of the arrest. The first time might
have been eight or ten days before the Saturday morning. Mr.
Colt, after he went to bed, said he felt unwell, and didn't wish
to converse, so I took my sewing and sat down. I do not remember what clothes he wore on Friday; think on Saturday I
was going down as he came in. Mlet himn at the front door.
He went up, and I went downl, where I staid a few minutes.
IWhen I went up he was undressing himself. When I first
went in supposed he was going to change his dress. I took a
seat. Did not aid him to undress. Did not see him put on his
night-shirt. I was sitting on a chair looking out of the window, and did so for five minutes after he got into bed. The
night-shirt had a button iil front, as usual. I had' made the
shirt. His linen shirts were marked withl-his name and numnber, and I think his night-shirts were. He wore linen shirts in
the daytime.  When I came fo the bedside, observed his clothing on the back of the chair. His shirt was the last garment
placed there. Did not look at it. IIe generally threw it over
so that the bosom was smooth, and not soiled. There were no
spots or marks on it. If there hlad been, I think I would have
observed ft. Think I can say t'hat there were no such. It was
after he had gone to bed that I saw the black Spots on tihe neck.
I-te was lying on his side, and had gone to sleep. We slept in a
s:mall square front room. From the position he lay in bed,
think it was on the right side, and the mark was on the left.
Ihis feet were towards the river. The spot was black and blue,
round, near the front; it was about as large as a sixpence. I
began conversing with him on the subject, and lie put his h]and
and pushled me away from the bed. Did not see any other
spot. IIe lay in bed, I think, to the hour of dinner, but am
not certain. IIe put on the same clothes he had taken off.
]-e returned to the room  after dinner, but do not know
whetler he went out that afternoon or not. Do not remember
having assisted to dress him for dinner. Might have done so
without renmembering it. Think he wore the same clothes that
he took ofT on undressing at ten o'k':ockl,.3 le wore them  in
the evening. Cannot say th:.t they were the same which. he




26                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
wore the ('ay previous. HIe generally cllangeld his linen three
or four tinmes a week, ind think lie clanged it on first getting
up that Saturday morning, as it appeared to be cle an. Do not
know what became of the shirt he took off. I miglht liave seen
it and waslhed it, but did not observe. tHav.e not seen any
shirt in his basket that had beenl soiled. I generally washed on
M,,nduay, but did not theat welk until Wedlnesday. Observed a
shirt that I thoeuglht the stiffness. or starch had been washed
out of the wristands.' ITe had a shirt which wanted mending.
It was the Thursday before his arrest, as le lay in bed. I ripped the wristl)ands off, and tlirew them under the bed. I think
he was home the wllole Saturday evening; am not sure that he
was so in the early part of the evening. On Sunday morning
I took his breakfast up stairs to him; think he was up, and that
he went out in thie forenoon, but went to bed in the afternoon
again. Ie was all the forenoon or all the afternoon in bed on
Sunday-I cannot say which. IHe slept sn!u:Idly in the day,
but did not sleep much that night. I had been at his room in
Chambers street before. Cannot say when-it might have been
a month. I-le appeared to be restless on the Saturday as he
lay in bed, but did not appear to sleep much; appeared to be
coughing; d6 not recollect liis turnring over and I -di-covering
the other side of his neck. Never saw any other spot. Do not
recollect having ever seen any mark on his hands or face.
When I was at the bedside I was going to ask him if the mar:C
was a pinch or something of that kind. On Friday he was arrested, anld I sat up for him the whole night, The clock did not
strike the hours.
By 3Mr. Selden —The shirt I was washing on Wednesday I
thought had had the stiffening washed out of the bosom  as
well as wristbands, but am not sure.  -is conduct during the
week previous to his arrest did not appear such as usual. Hie
did not talk nor go into the parlor in company,'as before. I
tried to persuade him to do so, but could not. I-Te was always
very kind, very mild; treated me kindly always, and I do not
recollect that I ever saw him in a passion.
By Mr. Whiting-I am  a mother by Mr. Colt. 3My own
mother never called to see me at 4' Monrjoe street. Think I
am acquainted with his disposition and temper. Never gave a
reason to any person why I left him and returned to Philadel



JOH-N C. COLT.                  2G7
Illia. M'r. Colt instructed me in writing while we were at
dMonlroe street.
~,vy a Juror-Do not.know anything about the watch, and
did not see it.
-3By Mr. Wlliting-,Did not know there was a watch in the
trunk when Justice' Taylor took it, nor did I know  then that
he had beenl arrested; I did not know Adams; he was never
at our housec
The vritness then left the court,, attended by Samuel Colt.,
Sarah Ilart sworn — I knoW the pr'isoner, Mr. Colt, and Caroline Ilenshaw.; the. lived in my house fromn the last of Febrmary, or beginning  of MI3arch, to the middle of May; Mr. Colt
was of very inild tcttper, very pleasant, and every day alike,
always pleasant and m:.ld.
By MBr., Selden-IIow did Carolinc Itenshaw act? (objected
to by Mfr. Whlitirng.)
Mli. Selden stated to tlle court tlhat he meant to show that
thie only ground why she and MIr. Colt did not form  the relation of man and wife, was owing to the breaking up of hlis
business, and his inability to proNvide an establishment,' but
thie  both looked forward to the day w'len they could be
united.  HIis relation with lher Nwas one of the acts for which
he has been called upon by. public sentimltent to answer, but
she was no prostitute except ais regarded himn. I-Ie did wrong
and she did, but adverse circumstatnces alone caused them  to
live together in the illegitimate manner thery did; still her
character, every other way, was good.  Slhe came into court
under circumstances which went to impair lher reputation as a
Witness, and he wished to show by this witness that she was
deserving of confidence.
Mr. Wlhiting s.lid, lihe hald no objectionl to allowing that the
conduct of Caroline ilenshaw had been good both at Catharline
and at Monroe streets.  They had not imnpeached her character; but shoinl 1 the parties be permitted privileges'now, be
allowed to testify for each other,'when they would be denied
if they stood in the relation of man and wife, and still further,
produce evrdence of correct conduct?
Judge iKent stated, that unless the character of a witness was
impeached the teslitnony should be allowed. It was unnecessary to produce evidence as to the character of the last Witnes,.




2G8               REMA1snABLE TRIALS.
Mr. Selden requested the court to notice the counsel's except.
tion to the decision.
HIenry W. Root sworn-I reside in the city, and have so
done for ten years. Am a native of Hartford. Was acquainted
with John C. Colt in early life.  We went to school together.
Never saw him quarrelsome so far as to make remark. I may
say one thing-John Colt was the leader of the boys in our
neighborhood.
Richard B. Pullen sworn-Know Mr. Colt.  Have been acquainted with him for three years. Think Mr. Colt would be
the first man to resent an insult and the last man to give it-one
that would insult no man unless they first insulted him. Have
been at his rooms in Chambers street and felt pleasure in keeping his company. He was a man of extensive infdrination, and
I called upon hiln almost every evening.  He generally wore
a watch, but do not recollect any one in particular.
Isaac Hart sworn —John C. Colt and Caroline M. Henshaw
boarded with me from February- to May, 1841; his conduct was
mild and good; I saw nothing whatever by which I could find
fault with his behavior.
Samuel S. Osgood sworn-I am portrait painter, at the corner
of Chambers street and Broadway; ony room is No 11, directly
opposite Mr. Wheeler's, and contains three windows; entered it
in August; when the windows are open the inconvenience from
noise in the street is so great that I have frequently to stop conversation; was nesver in the room  after dark but once; am a
native of Boston, and resided in IIartford twenty years since;
Mr. Colt and myself went to school together; he was ardent in
his feelings, but for what I know very amiable.  I was absent
froln homle when this circumstance happened.
George Andrews sworn-HIIave been acquainted with Mr.
Colt since 1838; I am a merchant tailor, and have had business
transactions witjh him; never discovered anything but -that he
was an amiable person; he always paid cash down like a man.
Fredrick Cary called-Am a clerk with R. Ashton & Co., in
8 Cedar street. Have known John, C. Colt since August,. 1840,
when he was keeping a book store in Philadelphia, corner of
Fifth and Minor streets.  I came here in January 1840, and
have seen him often since. Hiave been at his roolns in Murray
street, and alsi) at Chambers street. Saw a box and other things,
as -already described. Saw a piece of looking glass in his room,




JOHN0 C. COLT.                269
which was against the wall, and a piece of paper kept over it.
Saw' the hatchet in his room at Chambers street, about the 1st of
Au(gYust. Saw him have a new gold watch in September, some
time after the 4th, cannot say which day.
By Mr. Whiting-I was in his room five or six times and
staid about ten minutes each time.  He was the only one I
knew here from Philadelphia. I saw him with the watch the
11th or 13th of September. It was in his room, and I saw it
as he held it up to tell what time it was.  I said "you have
got a new watch;" he replied (objected to); I saw it had a gold
face and engraved back. The day he moved into Chlambers
street saw a piece of cloth in his room larger than a slheet, also
a rope round his trunk. Never saw him out of temper.  Did
not see Lim have a watch either before or after the day I mention. Read an account about the watch and key in the Sunremember fully as to the key, that it had dents on it; no one
gave me a description of the watch that had been found in the
trunk. [Tilis witness seemed to have been extremely deficient
in both sight and recollection as related to particular occasions.]
Mr. Selden then declared that the defence would rest.
Th e prosecution proceeded to introduce some testimony in
rebuttal.
Robert IHoe, sworn-Was acquainted with Mr. Samuel
Adams; have known him intimnately since 1835; our intercourse hadl been principally of a business kind; lie called upon
us almost every day; I always had a great respect for the,ian,
and considered his character and temper very good indeed;
have seen him upon very many occasions when his temper was
tried; do not think he carried a cane; lie was a plain, unasSUrnlig man; nlever knew or heard of his giving or receiving
a blow.
Other witnesses were called, who testified similarly as to the
character of Mr. Adams.
Solon Humphreys, sworn-I am clerk to the Patent Arms
Co. I charged the pistols on board the Belle Poule. The ball
was thrown tle length of the ship, about one hundred and
fifty feet, and struck a board. The pistol was fired only by a,
cap. I he ball must be rammed home to be effective. A veryt
small quantity of powder introduced would have,:reat fornce.
John Ehlers, sworn-I am treasurer of the Patent Arms Co.




270                IIEMAtEKALLE TRIIALS.
When a pistol i3 charged in tile proper manner a banll can. be
tlhrown by a mere cap a hunldred.and fifty to two lhundred feet.
At a hundred and thirty-five feet it leaves a mnark. If the ball
does not show power, it is because the ball is not driven ]lome,
or the cap properly put:o:.. Think a ball thrown by a cap
would not go through a skull at a distance of fiveo or six feet.
A very small quantity of powder, say half the cha:g o(f a cap,
in additioll,'wou'd  drive a ball at a digtenet of nine or ten feet
through a lhalf-incel plank. TYinlk t-he'experimenlts made in
Court hlave been fairly done, -and tlhat the cap)s were of the
best kind, better tlian are usuail.;;sold, and can only be had at
our establishmnent and one other.
Mr. Whithig here declared that the prosecution would rest.
The defellce then recalled Mr. Brinlkerhoff, superintendent
of tlhe Poudirette Co. —-liad  cleaned the sink at Monrloe street,
with a view to see:if anytllirng could be discovered'. Put a iaan
down the sink at the rear of the granite building some few days
ago, with a ligllt and a rake, and lhe discovered nlotlling.
Within the last two days, Ilowever, the sink had been cleaned.
liad a tub, in whlich was placed what- was discovered.  We
found somei cloth, somne porti ins of a towel, and a bundle which
contained shoes froln i:s outside appearance, all of whicIl were
placed in the tub. Put tlle tub in tlle rear part of the wagon,
and carried it inlto the Tomnbs.  Relnained there till morning,
whlen we went to see Mr. Selden, AMr. Wllitingr, and others.' I
told Mr. Fowkes I sl3hould take the bundle iiLo i:y own posiession. Took it'down to N'assal street, placed it in th~ cellar
under l,ck atld key, alnd froml that took it to the factory, where
tlhe bundle walS opened.  There was found in it a    lat, a pair of
shoes, aL 1tair of pantaloons, part of a lli-rt, a pair of suspenders,
and a vest.
MIr. Selden —Was it there, sir, whell you made the first examnination?
Mr. Whiting objected, as it would only be a matter of jmdg,enlt.
Witness coltinned-iFrom tLe condition of the bundle and
the state of tlhe garments, supposed the bundle mliust llhave been
overlooked on tile first examination.  I stated so to Mr. Cbnk-:1h!. lHave no doubt, from the garments being rotted, that they
have laid there. The soil has not been thoroulghly examiined




JOHN C. COLT.                   271
yet. Some thing; were found this morning-a pencil case,
some keys, a half-dollar piece, and other tl!ings. They were
not found in the bundle. I came here early, by request of
M1'. Selden, an.d did not have time to examine the whole of
the soil. IHad cleaned the sink at MXonroe street in the early
l)alt of October, but merely raked that at the granite buildillgs. Have a piece of the pantaloons and vest in imy pocket.
[Showed the pieces, and they were examined by the jar.,:.]
The pantalooIs were gambroon, and the vest may have been
yellow. There was also a pocket-handlerchief and a pair of
stockings. The bundle was tied in a hard knot, the diagonal
dorners of the handkerchief tied. The contents under the third
apartment had been raked. The hat had been cut from  the
rim to the crwn, directly opposite, and pressed together. It
was so cut, apparently, by a sharp instrumnent. The vest was
folded up; there was lnothing in tile pockets. The shirt had
been saturated with blood. Cannot say about the hat and vest,
they are so inuch soiled. The suspenders were thrown in.'There was only part of a shirt. The pantaloons were doubled
up. The shoes were at the bottom of the bundle. There were
six or seven pieces -of cloth, the largest about the size of an ordinary towel.
Robert Emmett sworn-C-alled upon the M3ayor a week or
ten days ater the arrest of thie prisoner. I am not sure I stated
to the Mavor I wished to have the privy examined, but I said
I wislled t( lhave his aid. [Objected to.]  I asked liim if he
did lot frel bound ti aid in efforts at discoveries tending to
convict or clear the pr isoner, witllout conmunicating  the resuit to tlhe District Attorney. At first he thought:he could; but
}his final answer was in the nleative.
Justice Taylor and Mr. Brinckerhoff were recalled-They
gave 1more additional unimportant testimony as to the examinlation of thle sinks.
Teannis Fowks corroborratedcl the testimony as to the find.
ing of articles in the sink at Cham nbers street.
Mr. Blake  recalled-Thought the  pencil case  found
in thle sink mrniht have belonged to Mr. Adams; lhe had one thlat
made a sirniJar noise when it was drawn, out. Do not recognize- any of the key s.
Mhr,. Donaha1n recalled —-Thought -the key here shown was




272               REM ARKABLE TRITALS.
tile one that Mr. Adams carried in his pocket; it belonged to
his office door.
The District-Attorney and the counsel for the prisoner, both
stated that they had ended.
Mr. Whitingthen read the points on which he should rely
as to circumstantial evidence.
Mr. Robert Emnmet then rose and addressed the jury; open.
ing in (an impressive manner, for the defence. He spoke substantially as follows:-Wue will admiit that Colt took the life of
Adams, and we now propose to tell you, as far as possible,
how it was done. As the counsel for Mr. Colt, I state wliat he
would if he were to stand up before you. It is not for you to
receive it other than as a statement of facts, which you are authorized to reject or receive.  I will read what would be the
statement of Mr. Colt, were he called upon to give {he facts in
reference to it. We have a right, as nonebut tile God above.
us saw the transaction, to show the manner in which the act
was done. I shall speak in the first person.
Samuel Adams called on Fri(lay at my office, as near as I
can recollect, between the hours of thlie and four o'clock.
Whether he had any special object in view in coming at that
tine or not, I cannot say. Wh.,n he entered my office, I was
sitting at nmy table; as usual, and was at that time engaged in
looking over a manuscript account book, as I lhad been engaged
in this work for one or two days previous, that is, I was reading over the entries and reconsidering the arithmetical calculations belonging to the entries, &c.  Mr. Adams seated hlimself in a chair near the table, and within an arm's length of
myself, so near that if we both leaned our heads forward towards
each other, I have no doubt but that. they would have toucled.
I spoke of mly account, which he had at my request handed to
me ten or twelve days before. I stated to him that his account
was wrong, and read to- him at the same time the account, as
I had ma(]e it out on another piece of paper, and requested
him to'alter his account as I had it. He objected to it at first,
saying that I did not understand printing. He however altered
hisfigures as I read them froin my account. I made the remark that I would give ten dollars or some such sum if I was
not right. After he had altered his figures, and on looking it
over, lie said that he was right at first, and made the remark
that I mean' to cheat him. (In the meantime we had both




JOnH  C. COLT.                273
been figuring, on separate'papers, part of the accollnt.) Word
followed word till it came to blows.  The wold.l " you lie"
wele passed, and several slight blows, and until I received a
blow across my mouth, and nose which caused my nose sliglhtly
to bleed. I do not know that I felt like exerting myself to
strong defence. I believe I then struck him next violently with
my fist. We grappled with each other at the time, and I found
myself shoved to the wall, with my side and hip to the table.
At this time he had his hand in my neck handkierchief, twisting it so that I could scarcely breathe, and at the slame time
pressing me hard upon the wall and table. There was a hammer upon the table which I then immediately seized hold of,
and instantly struck him over the head. At this time, I tllink,
his hat was nearly in my face, and his face, I should think;
was downwards. I do not think he saw me seize the hammer.
The seizing of the hammer and tile blow was instantaneous. I
think this blow knocked his hat off, but will not be positive.
At the time I only remember of his twisting my neck handkerchief so tight that it seemed to me as though I lost all power
of reason. Still I thought I was striking away with the hammer. Whether he attempted to get the hammer firom me or
not I cannot say; I do not think lie did. The first sense of
thought was, it seemed, that his hand or something brushed
from my neck downwards. I cannot say that I had any sense
or reflection till I heard a knock at the door.  Yet there is a
faint idea still remains that I shoved him off from me, so that
he fell over; bxtt of this I cannot say.  When I heard the
knock at the door, I was instantly started, and am fully conscious of g oing and turning the key so as to lock it. I then sat
down, for I felt very weak and sick. After sitting a few minutes, and seeing so much blood, I think I went and looked at
poor Adatns, who breathed quite loud for several minutes,
threw his arrrs out and was silent.  I recollect at this time
taking him by the hand, which seemed lifeless, and a horrid
thrill came over me, that I had killed him.
About this time some noise startled me. I felt agitated or
frightened, and think I went to the door to see if I had fastened it, and took, the key out and turned down the slide. I
think I stood for a minute or two, listening to hear if the affray
had caused any alarm. I believe. I then took a seat near the
window. It was a cold, damp day, and the window had beena
18




2714               REMARKABLE TRI-ALS.
closed all day, except six or eight: inches at the top, which I let
down when I first went to the office, and whicll remailed down
all the time I occupiedl it. I remained in, the same seat, I
should think, fr at least half an: hour, without moving, unless
it was to draw the. curtains: of the window  close, while they
were within reach.  Mly. customn had been: to: leave the curtai-ns
about one third: drawn frorn thle side of the- window  towards
Broadway. The blood, at the time', was spreading over tLhe
floor. There was. a great qua'ntity, cand I felt alarmed lest it'
should leakl througll into. the. apothecary's store. I tried to
stop it, by tying mly liandkerchief round his neck: tighlt. This
appeared to do no good. I then looked about the room for a-piece
of twine, and found in a-box-which stood in. the room, after
partially pulling- out some awning that was in- it, a, piece of
cord, which I tied tightly round his~ neck, after taking the
handkerchief off; and his stock, too, I think. IXt was then I dis
covered so. much; blood, and the foar; of its: lelaking, throllghl the
floor caused' me: to take: a towel, and gather with it all I could,
and rinse it into the:pail I liad&:inl tihe room.  T'he pail was, I
stiould think, at: that time about one third- f-ull of- water, and
the blood- filled it, at least ano.-her third: fbi'l.  Previous! to doing this, I moved the body tow-ards, the bux,, and pulled out
part of the awning to rest it. onl, and covered it withll the remainder. I never saw liis face afterwards. After soaking up all
the  blood I could, which: I did as- s:ill and liastily as. possible,
I:took my seat again. near the' window, and: began! to tlhink
what was. best to do.  About this; time some: one knocked at.
tlhe dopr, to whichll, of course, It paid: no attention,  M.y horrid
situatiin remained fiom thlis time till dark, a silehnt space of
time of still more.horrid reflection. At dusk of' the evening,
and at tlic same time some omnibusses were passing.. I carefully opened the door, and went out as still as possible, and I
tlhought unheard. I crossed- into, the Park, and. went. downfiom thlence to the City Hotel, mny purpose being to releate-thecircamstance to a brother wlio-was stopping at that: louse. I
saw him in:the front- reading-room, engaged: in? conversu;tion
withl two gentlemen.  I spoke to. him, a- few words passed be-.:tween us, and, seeinlg thlat:hekwasiengaged, I!: altered my purpose, and returned as- iar astlle Park. I:; walked up andl down;
thle Park, thinking what was-. best to do. Many things I:.thought- of —among others, was;gping: to some magistrate, and




JOHN C. COLT.                   275
relating the facts to him. Then the horrors of the excitement,
a trial, pullic censure and false and foul reports that would be
raised by the many who would stand ready to ln:;kL  the best
appear worse than the worst, for the saltke of a pal','y pittance
gained to tlhem in the publication of perverted truths, and original, false, foul, caluilxiniating lies. All this, added to my then
feelings, was more than could be borne. B..sides, at the tine,
in addition to the blows given, there would be left the mark or
evidence of a, rope drawn. tightly round the neck, which looked
too delibertate for- anything like death: caulsed: in an affray.
Firing the: buildingseerieod at first a happy thought, and all
Would be enveloped in fi:me,. and wafted into air and ashes.
Then the' danger of caltusing tile death of others (as there were
quite a number who-slept in- the building), the destruction  of
property, &c., caused me at once to abandon the idea. I next
thou:-ht of havingt, a suital,:o box made, and having it leaded
inside, so that the blood wovuld not-run out, and moving it off
somewhere and' burying it. Then tlie delay of all this, and
great' liability of being detected.
After wandering' in. thle Park, f:,r anl hour or more, I returned
to my room, and en:ered it: as I had left it, asg I supposed, unobserved. Wheeler's door was open, and lie was talking to
some one quite audibly.   I went into nmy: rom,'entering undetermined, and not knowing what to do. After I-was seated in
my room, I waited silently till Wheeler's school was out, and
hlis ligthts extinguishled; During this suspense, it occurred to
me that I might put the body in a cask or box, and ship it off
somewhere. I little thelght at this time that the box which
was in the room would answer; I supposed it too short and
small, and entirely unsafe, as it was quite open. Wheeler's
school beingsout, I still heard some one in his room, and, as I
then tlhouglt, laid: down on some benches. The noise did not
appear exactly like' a person going to bed. I could hear the
rustling of no'bed-clothes. I felt somewhat alarmed, but then
the idea' occurred to me that it might be the person -' wlo
WTeeler stated was going to occupy' the room that I then' occupied' as a sleeping room as -soon as I gLve, it up, which was
to be in  aboutt ten days' time, was temporarily; occupying his
room for that purpose. Relieving myself by this thought, I
soon lit a candle, knowing, that no title was8 to be lost; something, must be done. Tlis' was- a~bout. nine o'clockl, I should




276 G            REMARKABLE TRIALS.
think. HIaving closed the shutters, I went and examined the
box to see if I could not crowd the body into it. I soon saw
that there was a possibility of doing so, if I could bend the
legs up, so that it would answer if I could keep some of the
canvas around the body to absorb the blood. and keep it from
running out. This I was fearful of. It occurred to me, if I
bury or send this body off, the clothes which he had onil would
from description discover who it might be. It became necessary to strip and dispose of the clothes, which Ispeedily accomplished, by ripping up the coat-sleeve, vest, &c., which
removing the clothes, the keys, money, &c., in his pockets
caused a rattling, and I took them out and laid them  on one
side. I then pulled a pavt of the awning over the body to hide
it. I then cut and tore a piece from the awning, and laid it in
the bottom of the box. I then cut several pieces fiom  the
awning for the purpose of lessening its bulk, supposing it was
too imuch to crowd into the box with the body, i. e., it would
not go in. I then tied as tight as I could a portion of awning
about the head, having placed something like flax, which I
found in the box, with the awning. (This flax or swindling
tow came from a room I had previously occupied, No. 3 Murray street, also the awning.) I then drew a piece of this rope
around the legs at the joint of the knees, and tied them together. I then connected a rope to the one about the shoulder or neck, and bent the knees toward the head of the body
as much as I could. This brought it into a compact form.
After several efforts I succeeded in raising the body to a chair
seat, then to the top of the box, and turning it round a little,
let it into the box as easy as I could back downwards, with
head raised. The head, knees, and feet, were still a little out,
but, by reaching: down to the bottom of the box, and pulling
the body a little towards me, I readily pushed the head in and
feet. The knees still projected, and I had to stand upon them
with all my weight before I could get them down. The awning was then all crowded in the box, excepting a piece or two
which I reserved to wash the floor. There being still a portion
of the box, next to the feet, not quite full, I took his coat, and,
after pulling up a portion of the awning, crowded it partially
under them, and replaced the awning. The cover was at once
put on the box, and niailed down with four or five nails, which
were broken and of but little account. I then wrapped the re



JOHN C. COLT.                  277
mainder of his clothing up, and carried it down stairs to the
privy, and threw it in it, together with his keys, wallet, money,
pencil cases, &c. These latter things I took down in my hat
and pockets, a part wrapped in a paper, and a part otherwise.
In throwing them down I think they must have rattled out of
the paper.
I then returned to my room, carried down the pail which
contained the blood, and threw it into the gutter of tle street;
pumped several pails of water and threw it in the same direction. Tie pump is nearly opposite the outer door of the building;
then carried a pail of water up stairs, and repeated s;lid washing to a third pail; then rinsed the pail, returned it clean and
two thirds full of water to the room; opened the shutters as
usual, drew a chair to the door, and leaned it against it on the
inside as I closed it. Locked the door and went at once to the'Washington bath house in Pearl street, near Broadway. On
my way to the bath house, went by a hardware store, for the
purpose of getting some nails to further secure the box. The
store was closed. When I got to the bath house, I think by
the clheck there it was eight minutes past telln.  I washed out
my shirt thoroughly in parts of the sleeves and bosom, that
were somewhat stained with blood from washing the floor.
My pantaloons in the knees I also washed a little, and my
neck hllndkerchief in spots. I then went home; it wanted,
when I g,ot home, about five ninutes of eleven o'clock. I lit a
light, as usual. Caroline wished to know why I came in so late.
I made no excuse, saying that I was with a friend from Pllila.
delpll.a, I tllink, and that I should get up in the morning
early to go) and see him off. I went to the stand and pretended
to write tAll she became quiet or went to sleep.  I then put
out the light and un(lressed myself, spread my shirt, &c., out
to dry, and went to bed. In the morning, at about half past
five o'clock, I got up, put on mny shirt and handkerchief, which
were not yet quite dry, into the bottom of the clothes-basket
under the bed. Always changed my shirt on going to bed.
In the mlorning put on a clean shirt and handkerchief and was
nearly dressed when Caroline woke up.  I said to her that it
was doubtful whether I should return to breakfast.  Did not
return; went to the office, found all apparently as I had left
it.  Went after some nails; got them  at Wood's store; the
store was just opening; returned to the room; nailed the box




27;8              REMARnKABLE NTRIALS.
on all sides; went,down to tile East river, to ascertain the first
Placket for New Orleans.  Returned to my roon — malrked tile
box-.moved it myself, but with great difficulty, to the head of
the stairs-did not dare to let it down myself-went to look
for a cartman-saw a man passing the door as I was going out
-requested him to lhelp me down with a box —he got it down
without any assistance-preferred doing so-paid him ten or
twelve cents —went downl Chambers street for a cartmalln whomn
I saw coining towards:Broadway —hired hlim to taake the box
to the slhip, foot of Maiden lane-went with hiim.  Whlile le.
was loading the box Iwent to my office for a piece of paper
to write a,receipt on-wrote a receipt to be signed by the captain, on my way down the street-did not offer thle receipt to
be signed, but requested one, which thie receiver of.-tlle boix
gave nle. A clerk was by at the time and objected to the
form of the receipt, and took it and altered it-wished to know
if I wanted a bill of lading.  I first:remarked that as there
was but one box, it was not very inportalt,; however that I
would call at the office for one. Did not go for a bil:! of lading.
Tore up the receipt before I was two squares from  the shipp.
Returned to my office, by way of Lovejoy's lIotel in the park.
Went to the eating room, called'fr a llot roll and coffee; could
not eat. Drank two cups of coffee. Went to my office, locked the
door, and sat down for some timne. Exainined ever y thing ab(,ut the
room. Wiped the wallin one hulldred spots. Went home and to
bed.
We had intended, said; Mr. Emmett, to state the facts
to the public, but circumstances induced us to await the
trial.  When I first saw Mr. Colt hle was a perfect stranger
to mne.  After lhearing  the pal ticularls, it was our intention to make the matter public, but decided otherwise.
Mr. Colt consented to it only with the understanding that he
should yet make the statement.
[The District Attorney asked if such a course of remark
were proper. The judge answered that the communicatioxis
made by Mr. Colt were not admissible.]
Xr. Emmett then explained the law upon the subject, andl
went fuily into it-read the various laws and precedents governing the case, reviewed the evidence, and concluded by a
most eloquent appeal to the jury.




JOHN XC. COLT.                 27:9
Mr. Smith, for the prosecution, spoke for two hours in -a
most impressive and -masterly manner.
Mr. Selden for the prisoner commmenced by stating that Ihis:emarks should not extend to, a length unnecessarily to trespa-s
upon the time of the jury.  He all~uded to the comments
which had been made upon the law, and stated that the statute gave to the jury the decision as to the law as well as the
facts. The act in relation to conceaing the body must not be
connected with the idea itself.  Even if he adopted the suggestion that brearking in the frontal bone was to conceal the
body, it can have no bearing upon tile decision as to the guilt
or innocence of the defendant. Did they sulppose it was a feeling of cruelty, for the purpose of mangling the body at his
feet, as alluded to by the prlosecution. IHe believed the wounds
were given before the body of Mr. Adams was struck down.
Mr. Cult would not have resorted to disfiguring the head to
insure concealment; it was the Wlls c )ilrse that a man of mnind
would resort to. Adams laly prostrate at the foot of the prisoner —he fell, and the attention of thiose in the adjoininz room
-was attracted by the noise-they listened-not a sound was
heard, not a groan uttered.  Where was the prisoner thenl
IHe was hanging over the body of lhis victim, contemplating
the ruin that had been created.  The transaction took  dlace
at half past three, and it is said his room was watched til:l nine.
Do you not believe that he knew the movements of those outside? What sensations vwould likely be produced in his mind?
No one put their hand upon the door far the purpose of entrance. He was in terror of his situation.  I-e knew that no
person had witnessed the act-that his situation, living in a
state of profligacy, was:agt;inst hilm-he bad nothing on which
he could fall back as to connection or character-and was not
in a condi'tion by which le could hope for credence in, making
his -situation known. There is no man but under such circumlstances would have resorted to concealment rather than disclose
what occurred. le determined upon the plan, and set out to
put it in execution. "Posr Adams is dead," said he, "and I
shall have,to meet the consequences or conceal what has been
done by means within my power."  Yet the means had nothing to do with the offence unless collected for that purpose,
and that they were not so -has -been'proved.  lIe resorted to
the plan of placing the body in a box-it could not stay




280              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
in his room-to attempt bringing it or throwing it into the
sea, would be certain to cause detection, and it was disposed of
in the best manner he thought possible. The body was discovered. In relati.Il to the. catastrophe itself, Adams was standing
on his feet, and fell dead upon the floor, and face to face. The
testimony of Mr. Wheeler, on looking through the key-hole,
shows the body to have been near the table. Suppose Colt had
Adams by the throat, there could have been no outcry. - Adams
could not, and Colt would have had no reason to; but in that
case Colt would have been the victor, and had [no need of resorting to other means of defence. But, on the contrary, Adams
had Colt by the throat, and there was necessity of resorting to
other means of defending himself. The axe lay on the table,
where it would necessarily in that small room be placed. Colt
seized it, and in self defence struck the blows. It was all done
in an instant's time. The first blow may have deprived Adams
of speech, but had the muscular power continued, it would
cause him to hold with stronger grasp on the neck-cloth ot Mtr.
Colt.  General Hamilton, on being shot, sprung from  the
ground before he fell; and young Austin, after he had been
shot in the head, advanced upon Selfridge, and struck him
some violent blows before he fell dead. The effect of the
blows on Adams' head, while he held Colt by the neck-cloth,
-would cause him to hold with still greater pertinacity.  Iis
head would necessarily be thrown back to avoid the hatchet
and placed in a position which would be likely to receive the
blows that have been shown. As to the idea of the pistol, is it
probable the prisoner would have used the hatchet when he
had the other, whereby he would have avoided detection, —for,
although the ball might not penetrate through the skull, a very
slight addition of gunpowder would have caused death. With
what caution circumstantial evidence should be received, is
shown by the testimony of Mr. De Forest, for had it not been
for subsequent proof to the contrary, it would have been
believed that the deceased could have been shot by the mere
action of the cap, and had been so. As to the motives of the
prisoner, let us glance at them. The prosecution had been
commenced with an idea that the box 7was prepared. and the
hatchet newly purchased for the purpose, and a sort of mortification appeared observable when it turned out that the prisoner
had owned them so long. Is it likely, if he had contemplated




JOHN C. COLT.                 281
killing Adams, he would have brought them into his own room,
from which he would have been compelled to remove the body,
and where he would be so likely of discovery? He did not take
his life from motives of revenge —he had none to gratify. Was
it for gain? I-lad he been disposed to seek money in this way,
he would have marked out a more wealthy victim than poor
Adams. On the contrary, the supposition of a sudden quarrel
between them is borne out by the fact that Adams left Mr.
Wells' store between two and three o'clock, in an angry state
of mind, for the purpose of going to Colt's room. It had been
stated that the idea was conceived by Colt after his arrival, for
the purpose of plunder. The evidence of the articles found in
the sink, and which had been there since, shows this not to have
been the case. tHad he premeditated to kill Adams for the sake
of the watch, he must have known also that the body would
have to be disposed of. Broadway was extremely noisy at that
time of day, and sounds were not heard; but would not Colt
have known that there was but a thin door between him and.Mr. Wheeler, and the cry of a victim would probably be discovered?  It was shown that Colt had a pistol.  How easily,
had he premeditated taking life, could he have decoyed Adams
to some other place, where hle would have no trouble with the
body. Had he taken the life of Samuel Adams for the sake of
the watch, would he have not told his friends at Monroe street
that the plunder was in his trunk, would be discovered by the
officers of police, and bid them to remove it, twenty-four hcur3
having elapsed from the time of his arrest, during which he had
continued intercourse with his friends; and the house being
searched, the watch fell into his possession as the other things
did, and hl thought no more of it than of the others.  Osgood,
who occupied the room next to lWheeler's, went to Boston, carrying his carpet-bag, and the District-Attorney seemed desirous
to fasten on the idea that Colt had chosen the time when Osgood was away, to effect a premeditated purpose. Is it inconsistent to suppose that Adams gave Colt possession of the watch
previous to the quarrel in order to perfect a sale, in which case
it would not be thrown away as the other things were? The
idea might have occurred to him that Samuel Adams left but
little, and here was some valuable property that at some day
might be restored to his family. The learned counsel said this
-morning that Caroline Henshaw's testimony was not entitled to




282               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
confidence,-that she was living in a state of adultery with Mr.
Colt. If he means to apply that to her general  course, lie is
much mistaken. I have seen those wvho pretended virtue -guilty
of vice-have seen the wife whose word was no better than that,
of the mistress. She may have been guilty on one point, but is
entitled to credit as regards every other. Ier testimony showed
that she loved the prisoner, yet was determined to tell fhe
truth. Caroline Henshaw had acess to the trunk, and Colt
knew it. I-Ie was aware that the watch was an elegant one, of:peculiar workmanship, and must he discovered in case he afterwards attempted to wear it. Is it likely lie would have plundered another of such an article as that, and have committed
murder in order to do it? Except what was shown yesterday,
in respect to the articles found in the trunk, there is no-evidence
that Samnuel Adams had anything about his person.  Hie was
-not a man,likely to have had mlnoney about him-he was pressed
on all sides, -and his books-disclose it. There is nothing on the
books that gives evidence of his having received a dollar of
money. Had:any money been in possession of Adams, Lane, Mrs.
Adams orhis foreman would have known it, land the Dist.-At'y.
been ready to prove the fact. The subject shall be dismissed, then,
assured that nothing has been shown to prove anything legally
wrong in that point. Now for the quarrel-God forbid we
should say anything against Mr. Adams, his character or his
conduct. The name:of John C. Colt is stamped upon the record
of criminal j urisprudence-he has been represented as if le had
been born for blood. —-has been persecuted -and 4maligned; but
it is not for us to visit the idea 1upon the ulntortunate deceased.
Adams went to Colt's room in a "vexed mood," having expressed surprise to Mr. Wells that Mr. Colt expected thle proceeds of the sale. Mr. Colt owed Samuel Adams only seventyone dollars, but he contended that he owed him more. Out of
that a-coutlt word.s canme up, which produced blows, and terminated in deal;h.  lr. AdaLus had hold of Mr. Colt in a mIan-:ner to prevent him:crying out, and caused him to use the hatchet
in self-defence. The plates and residue of the books were in possession of Ir. Adams. The temper lie repeatedly exhibited
may have grown -out of misfortune. On three occasions he has
shown it. by sayirig "You intend to cheat," or, "'you intend to
-swindle me,V and he -called the surrogate.of Khings County a
-liar. The present quarrel is involved in darkness, and who




JOHIN C. COLT.-'283
commenced it is not proved, but enough is shown to convey'an
idea of the:fact. As to the wounds on the back of the head,of
decased, they could have been produced by the fall, and proba.,bly:.were so-or may have been caused by the prisoner, in efforts to getthe body into the box, or in other ways subsequent to
the quv;rrel. The pieces chopped off-were found in tile box when
opened at the dead house. Everything bears the evidence of
wounds being given in:self defence. The counsel said we
should have shown where we purchased -the nlails. It would be as
ea.y for a storekeeper to prove the transfer of a cent, as to prove
who bought a penny's worth of nfails. It was also said that the
-mark on the neck of Colt was caused bygetting down the box.
The mark seen by Caroline Ilcnshaw was on the jugular veinla man receives a weight onl his shoulder, not on his neck. The
pinning up of his shirt.shows a feeling of innocence rather than
guilt.'Ihe counsel also said that the new engagement to occupy
the room a week longer, showed a premeditated design. Mr.
Colt could have easily got the watch without planning it for a
week, or resorting to an -act of violence. The counsel, when he
spoke of the little mementos of hair, said they were found among
the,rulbbish. He has subverted the testimony-they were found
i-n the pocket-book. In regard:to the saw, the witnesses were
alarmed- the cry of blood had gone forth-and the circumstances were represented as occurring at times different from
-when -they took place. Mirs. Octon said Colt got and returned
it.on Thursday, and yet Delnoce said that he heard it going on'Saturday morning. Mr. Colt was publishing a book, and is it
too much to suppose hle bhad:been engaged in sending some
ofi thenm offS The witnesses no doubt intended to represent
things truly, but they have confused the dates. The man who
wanted to borrow the saw said Mr. Colt uttered an oath, but
that was not uncommon. The -prisoner had not been treated by
tile prosecuting officers with ordinary courtesy or ordinary kindness. IWhen examinations were made in the sinks at Monroe
and Chambers street, nothing had been stated by the rolice to
~the prisoner, so that.some person in his behalf could lhave been
present to witness that it was done fairly. Mr. Brinckerhoff
gave evidence as to the clearing of the sink, shlowing that the.articles had been placed there from the first; but an effort was
made by the prosecuting officers to show that the iprope3rty had
been placed there after the indictment was found; but it had.




284              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
failed. The government has as good a right to protect as to
prosecute the prisoner, and testimony should not have been presented that was not well founded. It was sworn that deceased
had been salted down, but it was sworn by persons not entitled to
credit, and it is satisfactory to find that the indignation which
had been created in the public mind is changed to simple curiosity.  The witnesses all testified differently, and poor Jemmy
Short, on leaving the stand, said that Adams was salted. But
did any of them feel the chrystalized matter'with their hands?
Jemmy Short first said he washed the body before the doctors
examined it, and afterwards stated the reverse. Justice Taylor,
(who, with the head of the city government, is the only man who
has shown any mercy to the prisoner), together with the Mayor
and highly respectable physicians, say there was no salt on the
body. The officers of police, many of whom are not men of
confidence, were allowed to testify, and Dr. Chilton sent to
examine the spots, but no one could analyze the articles found
with the body.
[Tlle District Attorney said that the salt had been analyzed,
and they might bring additional testimony to the stand.]
So much the worse, then, said MIr. Selden; the prosecution
should have shown it, and not left us in the dark. When the
wife was here, one of the salt men was directed to bring up
the bloody garments and shake them  under her very nose.
Although the death of Adams had not been denied, the testinlony must be brougllt up to make an effect on the, audience.
Even the grave was opened, and the head severed from the
trunk. The physicians said tley could examine it in another
room, but it was necessary to place upon the table of a court
the head, in order that you, gentlemen of the jury, might be.
influenced by the feelings observable among the multitude.
A charge w: ii ade that a pistol had been used, and the brain
searched to find a ball. Could the prisoner have obtained the
exhumning of the body to prove his innocence.  The activity
of the police has been brought into exertion, in a manner
such as I have never known, in order to convict the prisoner,
and lis case has withstood them all.  HIe is entitled to the
sympathy of a jury of his country. I ask only for the exercise
of that principle of law, which says that where there is a doubt,
it must be placed in favor of the prisoner.  When there are
two degrees in the statute"-one that will cause a limited de



JOIIN C. COLT.                 2o5
gree of punishment, and the other show excusable homicide,
if there is a doubt as to which the case belongs, the july is
bounid to present a verdict of acquittal.  The jury has been
kept aloof from external events, and can now see that what a
first seemed murder, is but an accident.  A prisoner is not
bound to shlow justification-it is for the jury to decide. Gentlemen, after nearly a fortnight's trial, the cause of the prisoner
is now committed to your hands,-a young man just entering
into life, his prospects probably have been permanently blasted
-but still it is for you to pass upon the fact, —we leave his
cause with you, requesting you to bear in mind justice as well
as mercy, is a portioZ of the attributes of the criminal law.
Mr. Whiting, District Attorney, then rose and remarked:We are about to close. Blood has been spilt- shall we flinch
in the performance of our duties, or filfil our oath —not only
do justice to the unfortunate person, but to ourselves and the
country. The counsel has not attempted to show that the
prisoner is not guilty, but I have been placed c(n trial, and
charged with doing everything malignant.  If I am such as
they describe, the sooner you get another to fill the office of District-Attorney the better.  If doing everything to facilitate
counsel for the prisoner-if ever having read the accounts in
the papers, makes me guilty, then I am so-then have I persecuted their client to the death —if furnishing copies of all the
affidavits, and showing favor to the prisoner, such as none ever
was shown —then ani I guilty. But I appeal to twelve honest
hearts whom I see before me, that I have done nothing since
this trial has commenced but what was strictly enjoined upon
me by my duty. What do the counsel mean by their aspersions? As to the last gentleman who has spoken, if, peradventure, a little jealousy has entered into his feelings I will only
say, that if I ever go to the legislative halls, I will return to
the people having performed all the pledges that have been
enjoined upon me, ana when I go from this trial to the bosom
)f the commulnitv I shall feel that I have performed the oath,hat I have taken. As to the threats of the other gentleman,
that I deserved impeachment, I can only say that his threats
llave no terrors. Perhaps I deserved blame-let not a hair of
the prisoner's head be: hurt-think not of me-they said I had
a feeling; of triumph-tritimph of what —if it were in my
oower, I would unclose this man's chains and say "go." I




_3'G               ItREMAr.,KAD i E TIiLS.
would, after performing my duty,: take that man's hand and
]hear fromn his lips- that I had done no more than my duty.
HIas John C. Colt; been unfairly- dealt with?- After making
every effolt to: pocure evidence, the counsel were offended becautse we proved the conltents of tile box; they observed that
they intended to make a confession,.'That confession we do
not- hiear-of before, not even wlhen the counsel first oipened.tho
case.  SUlppose we hadl been contented to do, as, the  ounnsel
spoke of.  They had the confession in their pocket, and yet
cross questioned every- vtitness that came, up, and even' stated,
in opening, that: we Il)ad not proved-our case —-%yet. they charged.
us that. we had kept: the j-rvy day after day. I advise: the.counscl to beware ]low. they sport with- the lives of their' Clie. its;
hc.wn they: come.-to defend a case and- still claim to lave: a confesfsion in their' pocketii  Ilad the gen leman said, we do not
dispute that: he killted Adams,- put him in an- box, and put liirmonboard. a;vessel, how' lkngr  would  it havre taken to try- theo
case? and:howi  much more, wiu"d it'hae- redounded to t.le.
credit and ingenuousness of the counsel'. Butt this is a cirenmstantial case, and tle-ecounsel had.tiame to write a' - nfess0cn,
but it is at varianlceoin ial its: main points with: the evidence
and the: probabilities. of tlhe case.  Our.duty is to.ascertain the.
truth.  Tlhe gentlernen say. we-are-seeking triumpll, but gen-"
tlemen that know not: themselves- know not us.  We ask you.
faithfillly to perform  your duty-noi: man; need to have his-.frontal inarkdd with any better character.  "Well done, thou
good and faithful servant."  If we mainltain the laws against
the lawless and against the-bandit it: is all tle success we ask..
— Would to God I c-ould look:into the testimony this day and
aid you to relieve thlis-prisoner ratler tthan colvi.ct him   Butare we never to corlnvct?-what haveT you or I to do with- thle
consequences?-y..u are to remove. all doul-bts frorn your minds
and p:'tinounee. upon the guilt or- innocence of the prisoneryou owe —that-to youtr oathl,, yoTlr cotlountry. and -y-our God.  You
come from the:body' of the comntlunity;. I: could have rejected
every man firom:that box who had ever seen- his face,, but. I
did not press;it.' I would ta-ke twelve of his friends- to try
himn, provided:' tliey" w5ere men! of truth- and integrity; you. are,
simply to enquire into lthe circulmstances. of thle case';. if he
killed. Samel Adamns: to-get: ridof, a debt or without apparent
cause it is murder; but: if Samnuel Adadmns went there armed



JOHN C. COLI.                    287
made an attack upon him and' he found it necessary. to use the
hatchet in self defence, it was justifiable homicide; you are to
pass upon the facts withouit reference to the excitement withou-.
these wails, and- the. excitement within.  One of the counsel
for the defence has told yona that you, must give a verdict of
acquittal, even if you did so at the risk: of your lives-in passing
thlrough the crowd-they l)ave told you that the, mind of thle
community is inmade up —tley. lhave complained of the public
prints, (which have been sedulously kept from you), and said
every thing to olerate (,,n your prejudcces.s  We claim this case
to have come under tlhe first class of murders.  Iiilling a human being is not murder-it is tfle killing withi an evil mindwith & blcodthirsty hleart. The law was beautifully' laid down.
three thlousand years ago. "H ie that smiteth a!nan will surely
die," &c.  Ie: that comcs ilponr his neighbor with guile to
slay -him  shall be drcstlroed, said the Almighty.:   We now
a,)peal to the laws of ian as well: as  of God-show  me the
land where: the laws, are not- administered, and I will show you
the innocent in despa!r; but let me see that: where the laws
are observed, and I will; exhibit the s-nile of the Almighty
Gud upon it, I will pireserlt thLe facts without reference to the
comifssion, which- the gentlemen had no1 riglht to offer unless
tlhey put in a plea cf gu:llty; but I shall examine it; if you.
can bring in a vercict iess than the charge, do so; but you
must do so without reference to the confession, for. that will
not bear you out.  What are the- facts. Samuel Adams went
to this man's roorn. Ie possessed' the reputation of being moremild than men in gener:.l-,but even suppose that: he was a.
little irritable, is that any excuse for his beingl killed?- These
books were to go to tlhe trade sale; not to bring four hundred
dollars, but one hundred and twenty-five dollars;: Mr. Adams
probably w.anted all tlee money he could get; he was told that:
]Mr. Cuolt meant to approipriate the poceeds; it was said he
"was:vexced`,"' surprised," but even say that he was "'angry."
His ans-wer was I will go and-see. Mr. WVellssaid he was not
violent' by. any means-," Mr. Adams- did not take the direct
line:to Colt's.I His Ta s   ion, even.if he-h~idiany, had had time
to;cool, as the: hleat of the'iron from  the- forge of, the blacksmith, when exposed to  the atmospheric a-ir,.  His-gait, when
seen, was of the ordinary description, not faster.  We cannot'
say that there was an agreement between them to meet, because




288              RE&SRKABLE TRIALS.
the evidence does not fully go to show it.-We saw him at three
o'clock at the door of Mr. Colt —.how did he get in-did lhe knock
or did lie go in tinasked-the confession does not tell it-where
had lie been the previous day I-Neither are we informed on
that point. MIlr. Colt occupied a little room in Murr.iy street,
his furniture was an empty box, a table and some chai'rs; he
moved to Cilambers street, and all the witnesses, with one exception, agree that the furniture in that room, up to the 17th of
Sepember was the same. There was no awning; even the clerk
in the dry-goods store, that saw something, could Inot tell
whether it was a piece of cotten or woolen cloth. The boy tells
you that the awning was in the garret in July, but the tfther
of the boy was permitted to go to sea on Saturday, without
being brought on the stand. (Mr. MIorrill said it was Saturday
week, as he was witll him himself.) I care very little about it;
I care very little what was said; I wish he could have sworn
his father went away six months ago. But the mind of the
boy was still uncontaminated. Things have been so ordered,
unfortunately for the prisoner, that what the testimony for the
prosecution failed in proving, that brought by the defence confirmed. The little boy proved that he took the awning. What
for? for what purpose was the awning taken   Hie knew that
a great noise had been made about the awning being gone,
yet said nothing about it. The prisoner would not steal it; he
was a man of too high honor; the woman clamored about it,
and had it been long anterior to this deed, the woman would
have been placed on the stand to testify to it; but she did not
come, and was a stranger to us. It was said that the box and
the hatchet had been some time in his possession. ilad I pursued this prosecution as the counsel stated 1 did, I should have
hunted up the woman that owned the awning; I should have
found men that knew Colt; I should have seen every cent that
was paid to Adams; but I gave such evidence as was presented
to me. [The court stated that the woman missed the awning.n July.]  Mr. Whiting, in reply, observed that he knew that
was the case, but no evidence was shown that Colt for the first
time got it then. The woman could have been brought here
as well as the boy. But be cateful how you believe even that.:
We infer he took it on that night, but suppose he had taken it
before; for some object, for some purpose, for men do not take
an awning unless they have some use for it, or intend to raise




JOHN C. COLT.                  289
money. It will be recollected that his IHonor, the Mayor, and
Justice Taylor were placed upoill the stand, to state wlhat Mr.
Colt said at the time of his arrest, —how lie came into the possession of the awning and box; but the counsel for the prosecution would not permit it, and the confession says nothing Labout
it. I le had not shown fiorn whence the box camne or where it
was mnade, nor if the cleets were on.. As to the hatchet,-where
is the testimony that the hatchet was there? One called it a,
shingle hammer, and the other did not know. But this hatchet
is a new one -the handle is new —the blade is new. As to the
place where lie would be likely to keep it, even if it had been
in his room,-would it likely have been kept on his table, ix hen,
the windows were open? When he is in his shirt-sleeves, in
summer time, is it likely he would have it on his table, or
would it be kept in his empty box, or sqmoe corner?  The
hatchet still had the string on it, and that is not usual for an'old hatchet. But still it was on the table, as stated by the
counsel, when Mr. Adams came into the room.  lMrs. Octon
said the day before he borrowed a saw. Mr. Selden could only
account ior it by the witness being mistaken, or that another
box had been previously sent away; but had that been the
case, proof could have been shtown when it went away, and
where it went to; but the evidence of nMrs. Octon and the man
both declared it to be that day- the door of Mr. Colt's room
was locked-lie was secretly occupied in his little rooin, and
the answer was "go to hell." The District-Attorney contended
that-a murder was intended, but whether on Samuel Adams
or some other could not be stated. This gentleman is represented to be everything mild, kind and affectionate-and yet
when interrupted shows a diabolical temper. What did he
want the saw for? If we assume the box was already there,
he miglit have been sawing the cleets, or he might have been
making the cover-at any rate we have reason to believe he
was dning wrong, because he was acting in secret. Had there
been no improper intention, he would not have locked'the
door. [Mr. Emmrett stated that the confession was made two
months ago. The court said that it was not evidence, and
hoped it would be excluded in summing  up. The District:
Attorney replied that the confession had been given, and lie
hoped lie would be allowed to refer to it. The court assenlted.]
19




290               REMARKA~BLE TIUALS.
Colt had the:saw for half an horn, dtlring which there had been
time probably to make the cleets, and not;the cover. I am
willing to ehlut out the stesti-mony of lthe milkmani, bhut as it has
been reterred to, we will mention thlat lhe saw a tall m1al
at the foot:of tie stairs of the vault, with a box, a hatchet
and -a saw. At the time of.-S1muel Adams' going into Colt's
room, dJ:be:knock, or did he go i:nt witho.ut? did Colt immediately strike him from belind as l. e entered t~he roolm I  As tile
gentlemen say, nione but' the Amglhlaty G.od and themlselves
knew what happened. I willsllow that by tllhe -evidence of
those who examined the skull, that when tlhey!calme to express
olpinion, it clasles; it:does not mInatter w.hen Ada-m.s calne i-nto
tihe room, whetler.he mwas stirnck b4y the Ihatchet, or was _sllotit?is still murder.  WhVlen Dr. Grdlmnan:referred to tihe hlole, the
idea flashled upon my umnlli that a p:istol hlad been  lUsed, and
such appears still to have'heei ithe case. Why should every
blow -leave a fissure but tlhis.. All tle rest exhlblt such,   bult
here is a clean.round hole. 1 would ask,t.e iprofessional gen.
tlem en how t-hey:.accoun t. for'the- differen ce.? Did Di. Mol t,.ar
any othlerlgentleman, ever se.e.an oblong.round hole that h1ad
been made by a:hatcllet I I (lo.-ot meal- to sayilt was made tby:a
pistol ball; I donot kno w;how it.was in;e; perltaps Adamns did
liot.; perhaps none buti:l e ('pointin,, to pirison:el).kllew. How -s it
possible' forlsuch a blow.to have beenln)ade -firo ll in front by a
latlhet.; tthe mIlan w.ho hlas.nuthing.blt.the defence.Go -lJas given
him vwhen.attacked byanothel.e with ahatclhet, will seize tlhe arm.-;
but wiii Dr. Mott,:or:alny other physician, platce his professional
reputation:on the idea that blows firom  a li:to.het.represented
the.sound.of foils. Adams mnust lhave received his deathl-blow
about fifteen mlinutes past three.  No sounld'was leieard, no
voices,.nothing but tlhe momentatry clash and the fall. If
Adalns lhad been a mal sulfficiently.strong to hold the prisoner
ofl atarmn's length, wotullt the blows fron'tlhe i.atchet htave
beenl struckl on the rear of the head or directly in.irolit  I-ow,
then.. did.the. blow conie, and could the deceased.have kept his.hold when his:head thad been.stove inL?  Dr. Rogers g-ives
some little idea of tlhe kind, but, he!amust.speak -of s,_ie other
order.of men. If men an s.t-rikeso aard as.Austin;and others are
said to lave doae.-,.canh old. their grasp,so fully after being
struck as has beecn represen t ed,,soldiers, before got-ngg to thefield,
should have their brains knocked out. as they would iight'uch




JOHN C. COLT.                   29 I
harder. Dr. Rtogers said the whole of the firont part might
have bern knocked in by a single blow; but had that been thle
case, pieces of the hat as well as the braill would have been
knocked in. IBut Dr. Mott sets the nmatter at rest by saying
lthat several blows were given. We have to judge of the fact,
and thleskull exhibited deep crnelty in tlhe lturder. [Mr. Ernimet
stated that the skull was shown as it h d -b;.en taken firom the
coffin. Mdr. WhLit.ney said that he spoke of DLr. Gillman's testimony,, shown by th!e hust, before the body had been exllmed.]
I have done everything that has been asked of me, and the
relnmarks of the gentlemanl in allusion to ime were made because
he do)es not know me. I should have.said to himn had lie called
upon me, that I felt te ife of this prisoner wv.ls in my hlands,
and I will do everything injustice that is possible to save him
from -the strongest pena.lty of thfe law. It, gentlemen of the
jury, I have pushed this -(.:ase too far,: blame me; but, as a prosecutinrg ffiicer, have I d., eso?  If the hat had been knocked
in by the hatchet, why ctut it in the center? —was it to chip
out the mnalrks of a pistol ball  Tlle testimony has not been
allowed to ishow us whethler.the hlat was cut at the sides or in
rear and front,,nor wlhether a piece was cut out or not. Bult
why destroy the hat? Even.allowing ttle bundle to ]lave been
put into the sink that.light, it was placed there by him, and
why did he cut it? Would a man who had unintentionally
taken the life of his neigllbor have proceeded in the formal
manner ile did to fold up the pantaloons, the suspenders, cut
the hat, and then plitce them vw'here he did,4;r would lie, in his
trepidation, have thrown in thle things as he found them  It
has been said by counsel that Adam1n ]ad Colt by the neck, but
would that have pro:,dced4;he clash [Mr. Whiting struck his
hands together] as of f'oils. Tihere would llave been a scuffle,
-a noise with the feet, -but nothing of this kind was heard,
but a slight clash. What made the noise-? The flashing of a
percunsion cap`omi d do it, and the introduction of a few
grains of powl (,r, even by the most favorable testimony for thle
prisoiner, wou'd iave driven a pistol ball throughl the hat and
skull. Had a qltarrel taken place, as pretended, noise would
-not only thave beel  nade, but Colt would have been more
likely, unlcs. bent upon murder, to strike with a chair than a
hatchet; and, even if le had done the latter, a high-minded
man would have at.once exclaimed to those around Limrn: 




292               REMARKABLE TRIALS
have struck a blow which I shall regret all my life,"-and have
shown contrition for the act. Had the quarrel taken place as
said, would the words "you lie" have been made in a low
voice-?  Wouldit not have been heard? That man, there is
no doubt, was struck down by the first blow. Where was the
neckcloth? Had it been a common stock it would halve been
twisted. Caroline Henshaw had given evidence that he -had
neckscarfs and stocks, but why'was not the one worn presented 1
Had Adams been pressing Colt by the neck, the marks would
have been left, and what man refilses to show such to his bosom friend? We hear of a trifling mark, but nothing sucll as
would have appealed there. We hear of Caroline Ilenshaw
going to his bedside; she asked him, as Portia did Brutus,
when he came from  the Senate House and committed a
murder, what ailed himl  He pushed her away, and she
dared not, after that, ask this kind friend to see the marks on
his neck-she dared not speak. Tell me if a man takes to his
arms one who gives herself up to his embraces, one who yields
herself to -him to her destruction here and forever, is entitled
to more feeling than if honorably engaged to her. God forbid
I should say anything against that witness-she was about. to
become a mother-and if there was any one who would pray
for that man, that he might be blessed forever, and would
come here to testify for lim it would be her. She approached
his bed, he threw her from him. She knew she was not his
wife, and dared not press it. Had she been his wife, shie would
have persisted. But do not blame her, do not blame that
slight gil —ilame the one whose heart was such that he could
seduce her, and keep her in abjection. Had she been his wife,
he couid have poured his sorrows into her ear; she would have
clung by himi; shie would have gone with him to his prison;
she would have accompanied him even to the gallows. Let
this be a warning to women-let them learn not to put their
earthly and eternal happiness in the keeping of such a man as
that. That poor unfortullate girl must go down to the grade
with the stain that is upon her. Caroline Henshaw, according to her testimony, had gone to bed, not dreaming that he
would come home steeped in guilt.. He had on his night-shirt
when shle first saw him, and it was said it was then eleven
o'clock. By that time he must have gone systematically to
work, prepared his victim, boxed him up, had the box ready




JOHN C. COLT.                  293
to ship, the blood washed up, and everything done so coolly
as to show it had been previously planned. We contend that
this murder had been premeditated. Does the law require it
shall have been a long time before? No, not even a single
minute, if the intention is to produce death, and the b!-o  is
unnecessarily produced. [The District Attorney then gave
precedents in point. HIe gave the case of a farmer who
had killed an officer in hlis barn, buried him in his fieltH, and
ploughled it next morning; but the very precautions he taken
led to his arrest. The officer was missinn, as Adams was, and
suspicion became excited to the ploughled field.] It the Kalamatzoo had sailed, would there have been any evidence of C'olt's
guilt, or would suspicion even dare to be attached to him? The
night afer, the boy, in shutting up' his store, heard the -noise as
if of nailing. IHow did Colt know the Kalamazoo wais uap?
The box was d rected to New Orleans that very night — was
this accident?.He might have shown where he got the nails,
but the counsel said there was but a peinnyworth; btt even.
then "straws show which way tile wind blows," and even this
small q,!l:ntity might have shown the fact. As to the mark on
the neck, it could easily have been made in moving the box
down s'airs. Counsel for the defence said if Colt had been
guilty lie would have selt to Caroline, when he had been arrested, to put away thle watclh; but the body had not been discovered tiens. He told Mr. Wheeler, at first, that he was not
in the roonm, but afterwards contradicted himself. The vessel
seemed to have been most providentially detained. Colt knew
that, unless the body was found, there would be no need of
sending to Caroline Itensl)aw. IIe was aware, on putting the
box o; board a ship, that poison would be created by the
putrid atmnosphere, and used salt to preserve it.  There
is olie error I have made which I endeavored to correct
last night. Who, except the guilty, is afraid of a human
skull- as it was — battered in.  The counsel wished  to
have it examined but only that physicians should do so,
and in anl adjoining room-but doctors are but men as others
-and the court, jury and others, had a right to examine for
thiemselves. Complaint has been made that the bloody garments
and the ring should be shown to Mrs. Adams, but could anybody else identify them; as to the body of poor Adams even the
impress of his maker had been obliterated by the hand of vio



294                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
lence; and without Mrs. Adams' testimony, gentlemen, Wo0l(t
you believe that the body found in the box'was that of Sa,,luel
Adamns. Now, gentlemen, as to the pocket book. Mr. Adams
had been in the habit of carrying one, and whether he llad
money or not we cannot say.-Mr. Colt may have known it.
It is also said of the watchl that Colt had it before or that he
would not be likely to plunder such an article., Had the ves.
sel sailed, the watcll might have been carried into the country,
and would probably never again been heard of,  I have alluded to the principal points, -and could speak two hours more
on the subject4 but shall be brief. I ask you to review the evi.
deuce, and mnete out fair and ample justice to the prisoner. If
favorable, it is for you to say so. A chain of circumstances
have been presented in the case astonishing to think of.  It is
for you to weigh themn and bring in your verdict of guilty or
not guilty. As to the tetnper of the deceased, what Dr. Barber has asserted showed him to be of good temper rather tha:i
otherwise. I asked the doctor if no other had ever treated
him equally bad, and he appealed to the court for prolection,
Mr. Wheeler was a lawyer, and was engaged in a case Where
Adamns felt aggrieved.  Thle case of Mr. Cornell shlows that
Adams would not tread upon a worm.. Cornell opened the
door, and said. "' Presto, be gone," and Adarns was off. Adams
*appears to have been a man that would run rather th:in light.
The District Attorney then made-a powerful appeal to the
jury. If courts and juries, said he, refuse to do.their duty,
who will protect our lhouses from burning.  If it is to be understood that prosecuting officers are to have the stiletto, who
will protect the community, our streets will be washed in bloodi
our altars be desecrated. Gentlemen, I hlave endeavored to
do my duty. If I have been too warm, appreciate it.' But, as
regards the e:xcuse of the prisoner, if the memorials of the'
mother and sisters had been pressed closer to his heart, it would
have been better for him.  I believe that life Wias taken by
John C. Colt. I believe if, by laying down lhis own life he could
restore that man to his family he would gladly do it.
[Colt had his hands over his eyes, leaning on the back of his
counsel's chair, and freely wept, the tears falling firom his face.]
I believe he would gladly give his life, but is that an -excuse
for taking the life of Adams?  It is for us to do our dutythere is on that bench a judge whose heart is alive to every




IHN- AC.: COLT.                 290,5
kind feeling,. If mercy is deserved it will be shown; b ut you
have a simllple duty to perform. I have endeavored faithfully
to do mine. If erroneous, correct it-deai leniently and mercifully with the prisoner; do justly to yourselves. There are
in this city three hundred thousand souls committed to our care,
and much rests upon us. Act in a mannter that you can answer to
your consciences hereafter; deal justly, but deal firmly and
honestly between the people and the pri~soner.
CHARGE OF JUDGE KENT.
Judge Kent then proceeded to charge the jury as follows:Gentlemen, it becomes us to close the last scene. My remarks
shall afford you some time for deliberation, and do away with
the excitement thrown around the case by the speeches: of
counsel. My duty will soon be done and yours begin. Some
allusionl has been made to the excitement out of doors. I am
inclined to believe it is over rated.  Had I not so, I would
have postponed the trial. It would have been strange if, in
the city of New York, the public mind would not have
been shocked by the murder, but I have no doubt that every
justice has been done to the prisoner.  The court has kept
everything uninfluenced by contamination from without, and
I have no doubt but reliance can be had upon the sound lleads
before us., I was sorry to find- some acerbity of feeling  shown
among the counsel, but I see no occasion for it.  Never have
I known more talent or industry displayed than in this cause.
No blame is deserved on either side, and as to the DistrictAttorney he has discharged his duty ably and eloquently, and
without any feeling but that of his duty. It is now my place
to address to you a few remarks.r- The degrees of homicides
are four —justifiable and excusable homicide, murder and man-:slaughter.i There is very little difference between the grades.
of the two former-T-the one is whlere an officer kills another in
the performance of his duty-the other to prevent an attempt
to kill where a man is allowed:. to defend himself even in taking
life. If you think Colt killed Adams to protect himself from
an attempt at murder or felony he is justified.  It is also justifiable when a design is evident to inflict some groat felony,
such as to main or murder, as where a man raises a large bar
- of iron to strike-another. If you think this to have been the




296                EMARKABLE TRIALS.
case, no  ame is attached to the prisoner.  We now come to
the grade where the law says blame is deserved, but where
there are mitigating circumstances-such as correcting a servant and death ensues, or a person in building lets fall a brick,
and some person is killed-or where there has been some unexpected combat without dangerous weapons, and where it was
not intended to take life. Words do not authorize one man to
kill another, but where in resisting an assault death ensues,
and it is not intended to kill,,nor done in a cruel manner, it is
excusable homicide. Cruel and unusual manner may have
been by such a weapon as this-it cannot be considered excusO&ble. If not justifiable or excusable, it is a murder or manslaughter. In the former there are no sliades; in the latter
four degrees. The first is premeditation, and where it is done
with an instrument regardless of life.  Where a person discharges a loaded pistol into a crowd, it shows a depraved mind,
and where lhe takes life, it is murder. As to premeditation, I
differ firom the District-Attorney as to a point of law.  It was
said that if a homicide was committed the law implies malice,
such as the case where a black man cut a woman's -throat in
Broadway, but I cannot agree with that doctrine. You may say
that Colt designed to take Adam's life, if so it was murder. But
you must show premeditation. This is not necessary to have
been previous to Adams going into his room. If you think he
did, not in hot blood, or in a fracas, it is miurder. But if you
do not think such, it is manslaughter, and you must
bring it within one of the grades. The first is, if a boy
throws a stone at another, and kills hlim, or if a man
kills another in a fight previously intended. If Colt intended
to beat Adams and killed him,]Jt is manslaughter in the first
degree, but in the heat of passion he did so, it is in the second
degree. Third degree is, where it is done without the use of a
dangerous weapon.
The first question is, was the offence committed? This has
been admitted. What degree of crime does it come under?
The counsel has placed out of view nmuch that was the object
of several days' inquiry. The pistol idea is settled, and not
necessary to touch upon.  It was well to produce the skull.
It became necessary on account of the physicians not being
clear in their testimony. I was averse to producing it and
harrowing up the feelings of the prisoner himself, and the rela



JOHN C. COLT..2-97
tives of the deceased, but it was necessary. In regard to Colt's
confession, it is difficult to exclude such. The counsel introduced it in Ihis argument, and it was irregular. It is in, however,
but it is not testimony, arid you (the jury) are bound to throw
it out entirely so far as it goes to exculpate the prisoner. Af-'
ter all the testimony that has been presented, the case lies in a
nut shell. Except so far as illustrating the character of John
C. Colt, the mass of evidellce goes but little way beyond the
admitted murder. The pistol idea has not been given up by
the District-Attorney, but you have the opinion of Dr. Gillman
that he did not believe in it, although it had been his first impression  and Drs. Mott and' Rogers declare it not to have:
been. Yon mu nt discard the idea that the wound was given
by the pistol. In regard to tile watch, it has also been admitted
to have been tlken. The question theni is as to murder or
mnanslaucrhter. I slall now look at the homicide and the subsequent proceedings. In regard to the latter, they are of importance in judging of the character of John C. Colt, and
throwing a reflective light upon his character. Dismissing his
own statement, and whlat do we find? —I am not going to detain you. The chain of facts are remarkable, and show him,
to be an uncommon man. The homliicide occurred ath lalf-past
three o'clock. Mhr. Wheeler went to the door —then up-stairs
-told all he lilet-and yet Ctlt gave no' signs of lifo or
emotion. After r ine o'cl(,ck Pelnoce heard him  go downstairs, return, wash up the floor, and next morlning heard the
sawing. Next day, we hlave the testimony of Mrs. Octon, to
show that lie came in, passed his door, and sat down by
Mr. Wheeler's. It is a trait of character in his favor. Hee did
not care to, se, his victimn. Like Macbeth, he appeals to ha:ve
said, " I'm1 afraid to flee trotl  what I've done; look on it I
dare not."  Then again we see the body placed in a box, and
p)acked up in a manner unparalleled in crime. He goes out
to get a carmnan, assumes a careless air, and told the carman
to convey the box to a Nlew Orleans vessel. Almost any other
man would have gone on that box and kept by it till it was
safe; but he entrusted the carman to knock it around and throwt
it down as an ordinary package. He then gets- a receipt,
tears it up, returns to his office, and obliterates the marks. On
Monday he assumes a gay air; he went to Adams' office, and
also to Wells'. It shows him a man of intrepidity and coolness,




29 8'REMARKABLE; TRIALS.
such as rarely can be met. with. Such is the Impression on my
mind, but you canjudge of it. In regard tb the! idea of salt, I
do not look upon it in any other light than that of additional
foresight. Using salt in order to preserve the body, was to
guard against discovery, but it showed nio greater atrocity.
Whether the salt was there or note it made no difference. It is
not fully proved-the wit-nesses say they are:not certain.  The
warmith shown by counsel was. unnecessary. The thought might
have an effect in inflaming the public mind, but as regards the
fact, it only shows, if true, thPe foresight and providence of John
C Colt. We now come to the point of Sa:muel Adams being
in the room. The witnesses we have are: Wheeler and Seignette.
Is there proof of design, anterior to his entering the room, that
Colt intended to kill him? Colt was, perhaps, in want of
money. At any rate Mr. Wheeler had asked him for his rent,
and he could not pay. He was also desirous of sending off the
books, so as to raise money. The District-Attorney thinks the
fact of the saw important. The evidence is conclusive that he
borrowed one, but the circumstance is too light to say mluch,
unless coupled with something else. The stuffing of the box
with paper seems to have some weight about it, but you will
judge of Vhe fact. Then, again, his hlaving the window shut
may look like preparation. These two points are all I see that
look like preparatory design. Had Mr. Wheeler tried the door
and found it locked, it might have been an important eircumstance; but Mr. Wheeler did not try the door, and you must
not look at it.  Was the mere fact of Adamtn being in the room
sufficient to fasten crime? The hatchet appe:ars to have been in
Colt's possession two montlls, and the box so for a long time anterior. The awning is said to have been taken from Murray
street some timne before. and this seelms to have been the case.
The inference is in favor of the lprisoner.  I he box, the hatchet
and the awning, were in his possession. The place in which
parties were, seems to be inconsistent with the idea of premeditation. In that small room, and at that time of day it is difficult
to suppose that there had been a prenmeditated design to take
life. Now as to the occurrence itself.  We must look again at
the conduct evinced by Colt in packing up the body. Does
this show an evidence of guilt?1  The law gives concealment as
evidence of guilt. A boy killed another and hid the body, and
it was evidence against him. Is any deduction necessarily




JO-ns C. COLT.                29
drawn from tle' fact, but his desire to avoid punishment? Doe'~
this show that John 0. Colt wished to avoid the State's Prison,
which the law provides as the punishment of manslaughterS
It mnay have been accompanied by guilt, but is any other idea
apparent 2 The public mind was shoclied, and every one felt it,
and you may have imbibed the idea. The concealment was as
likely to have beenr caused by a wish to avoid  the punishment
of man-lslaughter as well as of nlarder. We have the evidence
of Mr. Wheeler and ollers. Mi. Wheeler acted precisely as a
prudetlt man should have acted-it was so improbable that at:
noon day a murder had been effected that Mr. Wheeler may
hlave been pardoned for not pushing his inquirlies further than
he did. The phijosophy of evidence is, that persons agree on
suljects, if their attention is drawn to the same object, but two
persons in looking at a landscape, one may observe somerlling
that will escape the notice of the other. [The judge then read
a case in point.] There is some little discrepancy as to whom
first went to the police, a'nd other smnall points, but it is certain
that they heard a noise and the fall of a heavy body-on that
they speak positively. HIe heard the clashing of foils, something like a movement of feet, and a fall, but nothing beyond.
It does not follow that they could hear the beginning of this
controversy; ordinary conversation could not probably have
been heard; their attention was first called to tie falling of a
heavy body. Now as to the wounds themselves, We hear of
V clash and the fall.  After the most deep inquiry I am  at a
loss to account for the manner in which the wounds were inflicted; it is a matter for you to solve, not nie.  The wounds
urnet have been given before the fall on the floor, as no noise
Was heardl afterwards; but whether while deceased was standing, or from before or fion behind, the jlury must weiglf. Dr.
Mott and the othlers do not appear to agree, and the chain
seems broken. Dr). Gilman speaks of two pieces being hacked
off the back of his head, but it may have been done, lie said,
while putting it in tlie blox, but this is not satisfactory to my
mnind. Whether the blow was struck from behind, may or
may not lhave been the case.' There is mystery; how  these
wounds were given is a subject of strong inquiry.  The first
wound appears to have created insensibility —if it had not been
so.he piercing cry in the accent of fear would probably have
arose over everytlhing else.  That there was a fracas appears




300               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
evident from the nature of the case, and also from the testimony of Caroline  elenshaw.  That testimony appears to be
worthy of confidence.  That interesting young woman comes
here under adverse circumstances.  Her manner was childlike —slih did not appear desirous of pushing her remarks, and
the impression on my mind was decidedly in her favor. She
stated that the mark was no larger than a sixpence, and she
spoke with rnucll caution.  I believe her story, but the jury
call weigh tile fact? Does it then implya fracas? Octon said
he saw Colt take the box down stairs, and press his neck
against it as it went down stairs. I believe Octon, and particularly as he said he was afraid of that box. His suspicion
was awakened, and if you look at the statement of Colt, still
Octon's testimony is deserving, even if Colt's was admissible,:of
the greatest weight. The weight of the box accounts for the
stiffening in his lilnbs, but the mark on the neck seemed like
a pinch or grasp by the hand.  Was the case murder?  You
have heard the evidence. The desire of revenge is a prominent trait. A savage has been known to kill another to see
how he would fall from his horse.  It is hard to know the
feelings that enter into the heart of a guilty man. But it is
for the jury to think if there was any adequate motive. There
appears to be no desire to preserve reputation, as Adams knew
nothing against Colt, nor was there any old grudge-avarice
may have entered his mind; his books were going to Philadelphia, and he might have got possession of the money though
not be free fiom the debt, by Adams being put out of the way.
It is possible he may have done it for the sake of his money,
but we have no evidence that Adams had any about him. It
had been stated that he carried a pocket book, but there was
no evidence. He had a watch in his possession, that is certain
and fully proved. Cary's testimony, that he saw a watch on
a former day in Colt's hands appears to be insufficient. The
watch was in Colt's possession. Suppose he killed him in an
affray, what was he to do with the watch? Persons have been
known to kill another for feeling; Colt may have been governed
by such, but was it probable?  Adams lay dead at his feet,
and the possession of the watch is not inconsistent with the
itea that lie kept it some day to give it to his family. There
appears to have been no grudge-very little mnotive for lucre,
for the probability is that he would have selected a richer man.




JOHN C. COLT.                  301
The firm manner in which he walked on a precipice, one false
step on which would have been fatal-the coolness of character
he displayed-if you think these sufficient to believe him capable of premeditation, bring him in guilty of murder; if you
do not think they show premeditation, he is not guilty of murder, but of manslaughter. As to the latter, we have tile character of the slayer and the slain; the evidence is favorable to
both. Adams was shown to have been amiable; nevertheless,
he was calpable, as appeared by three witnesses, of using language of an insulting character, but nothing seems like his
having ever been engaged in an affr'ay in his life. As to Colt,
also, he has been shown to be kind, pleasing and elegant in
h1is address, yet we hlave evidence that he was disposed to show
temper-the testimony of the man with the saw, Mrl. Wheeler,
and the case where he had become responsible for a debt.
Mildness is sometimes shown by the sternest character, but
Colt has exhibited nothing improper.  Now as to his taking
life, and his liability in the charge of manslaughter, the certainty that Adanms was capable of showing temper, was sufficient to convey an idea that lhe might have come upon Colt
when in a feverisll state of mind, and a fracas occurred between
them. But I leave it with you-give the doubts tbr the prisoner-give the lowest degree of punishment to which you feel
the case belongs. Let it be a doubt fully formed. But 1 leave
it with you, feeling the utmost confidence in you. Do justice
whatever may ensue. Ycu are bound to spurn all excitements
-must not cherisll a mi.wkisll sympathy-examine the subject
coolly, bring in a verdict according to what you really believe,
and do your duty to the prisoner, your country, and yorll God.
Mr. Emmett said he begged to offer slight exceptions, alluded to the statute and declared that this case would be excusable homicide unless the prisoner was armed with a hatchet
at the commencement of the affray, or had prepared it before
land. It was so allowed.
The jury then retired in the charge of officers to deliberate.
THE V}ERDICT.
Next morning (Sunday), at -a quarter before three o'clock,
the jury having come to an agreement, Judge Kenlt was sent
for. At four o'clock the judge, in company with Aldermen
Purdy and- Lee, took his seat upon the Bench.




3'02              REMARKABLJE TRIALS.
Tle jury  was tthen brouht into Cou t, and the clerk after'
eal ling over the na-mns, asked if they had agreed upon a verdiet,
Foreman —We lave.
rClerk-Gentlemen, whlat is your verdict:?
Foreinl-an-We find the prisoner, John C. Colt, guilty of,wilful murder.
Mr. Morrill, the only counsel for the prisoner present, then
applied to thle.Court for:tim.ne to prepare a bil)  of exeeptions,
&c. The application was granted, tlle prisoner remanded to
the custody iof the Sheriff, when the Court adjourned.
EFFORTS -FOR A NEW TRIAL.
On the 31st of January -the case of Colt was acai~n brqught,
before the Court of Oyer and Terminer on application for
additional time of two weeks to file'a bill of exceptions.  The
application was granted.  Further delay was experienced at..
terwards,.however, and the bill of.exceptions was not formally
entered until the 2Sth oft February.
On th-e 1st of Marchl the bill of exceptions was allowed, and
the ease sent before tlie- Supreme Court for adjudication.
~May 5. A -motion -was nade -befoie the Court of Oyer and
Termniner to;grant the prisoner a new trial, ulpon the additional
ground that onle of the jurors who had tried the case had expressed -an opinion, previous to being;sworn,in. -Colt was ian
Court. Affidavits w.sre read both on tie part of the defence
and prosecution. Mr Enmmnet arguedthbecase f)or the prisonerj
and District Attorney Whiting opposed.  The Judge took tle
papers and reserved his decision.
may 12. Thle,prisoner was again bongaht into Court. The
motion for a new trial was denied.
lMay 27. The bill of exceptions:was -.alled utp in tile Supreme Court, the Distlict-Attorney being presenlt.  Counsel
for the lrisoner did n,)t appear, and the-Coutrt ordered a nonsuit, and di-rected -the District;Attorne-y to:ploceed by defau.lt..May 31. Counsel for the prisoner appeared in the Supreme
Court, and the default taken by the District Attorney was
opened, and argument ordered, to be presented at the next
term- of t~he Su preltle.Co rt -to-be held at. U:tica in J.aty.
Stpremne court, Utica, July 16. After hearing arguments,
on application for new  trial, made by Messrs..iorri il and




.JON C. -COLT..                  303
Selden in behalf of thlle prisoner, and District Attorney Whiting
opposed, tlhe Court den:ied the motion,:and sent back the prisoner'for judgment to the Oyer and Terminer.
THE SENTENCE OF DEATH.
On the 27th of September:Colt was brought up in the
Court of Oyer and Terminer (Judge K:ent presiding), to
have the awful sentence -of the law pvassed upon him. The
court-room  was crammed by a -crowd of specetators of all
classes, anxious to:get a glance at,the prisoner. Aldermlen
Purdy and Lee were upon thle bench with Judge Kent.  Colt
was accompanied by hlis brother Charles,;and his counsel,
7[Messrs. Morrill mand Selden.
The Clerk asked:the prisoner if he had anything to say why
sentence of death sho,,uldl not be pronounc-ed:against hi-m.
Colt said that -le had somtne written remarlks:which:le would
hand the Court to -read. This paper alluled -to the unjust
manner in which the:trial had been:conducted, and asserted
that the evidelnce had been tralnpled upon by the jury.
Judge Ken~t tlhen proceeded to pass sen-tence. He was sorry'
that any unjust allusions had been mnade as!to;the conduct ofthe jury.  It was due to justice, and it: was due to one of the
most intelligent juries:tlat ever sat in a court of justice, that
he (the Judge) should inot allow them, hi thtis, their proud tribunal, to -be insulted, without enterizg -his solemn prote:t
against it. The jtury were selected:out of,three hundred of our
rnost respectable citizens-taken indiscriminately fromn the
eity, -selected under the most vigorous exercise of the peremptory challenge by thle prisoner-and in every instance where
objections'were raised and allowed, it was in favor of the prisoner.'Theirdemeanlor in:Court was'such as to:entitle them:to
the hightest consideration of the trib.unal in which they took
part. They had been separated from'tleir families and from
their:bu;siness, conrfined m a. sort of prison for, eleven days, and
lie (the learned Judge) never saw:one of themn exlhibit,the
slightest impatience. On the contrary, they'bore, with most
exemplAry, patience, the tedious, even unnecessary,'delays in
the progress of the trial.  Calmly,    honestly, unfalteringly
earnest-in t.-heir efforts to:discover the:trth from the mass of
evaderne ospread before them.:Iad these men been follos:ed




304              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
to their rooms, we would have seen the same calm, unimpassioned inquiry characterizing their deliberations. As far, therefore, as the paper expressed dissatisfaction with the conduct of
the Court and Jury, it was his (the Judge's) conscientious
opinion that the asseverations were untrue and unjust. lie
would now allude to the offence for which the prisoner had
been convicted. No man ever doubted that it was a crime of
the greatest magnitude and enormity. It was a crime, too,
which had- sunk deep in the community. Leaving out of view
all the appalling circumstances, with which he would not distress the prisoner or himself in- recalling, no doubt could exist
but that the deed was executed under thle influence of ferocious
passions and sanguinary cruelty.
Colt said that if the Judge had read the document he
would find that he (Colt) did not charge the jury with wilful
wrong,tbut that they were mistaken. As to any allusions
made by the Judge, he could assure him that he would rather
leave his case with God than with man. He never did a deed
in his life but he would repeat, had it to be gone over again.
The prisoner then went on to say, "' I am not the man to be
trampled down in my own office, and look tamely on. It was
not my intention to kill tile man; but lie made the assault, and
must take the consequences. I am sorry the Court thouglht
proper to make the remarks it has. For myself, I had intended
to say somnething more; but, not expecting to be sentenced today, I was not prepared. I am ready to receive sentence,
knowing that it cannot be avoided."
Judge Kent-Sentence will now be pronounced, with
expressions of deep regret entertained by the Court at the
callous and morbid insensibility exhibited in your last speech,
and which shows that any further remarks would. be lost.
John C. Colt, the sentence of the Court is, that on the 18th of
November next you be hanged till you are dead, and may God
have mercy on your soul.
The prisoner was then removed. During the sentence he
assumed a bold and careless air.
COLT'  PRISON LIFE-EFFORTS MADE FOR HIS RELEASE.
From the date of Colt's sentence up to the day set down for
his execution the most energetic efforts were made upon the




JOR -N C. COLT.                  305
part of his friends to have the death penlaty commnrea to in-,
prisonment for life. But all such exertions failed.. The: Govcrnor could not be moved..Application was also made to. the
Chiancellor to have thle case removed up. to the Court of Errors,
but the appli.ation was denied, and nothing nlow remained to
be: accomIplished Ibut tlhe last final act of the. law.
Several attempts were now made to release the prisoner from
jail. One eveiinig one Qf his fi'iends went to tlle Tombs attiredI
in awomanl's clothles, the plot being matured to let the prisoner
walk out of the Tombs in the female costume, while the
latter should remain  in lis place. Rooms were. prepared in
Brooklryn for the reception of.'Colt, and every arrangement
made so that hle.should be hidden when. he again elergedrinto
freedom. "Butthe pllot.was discovered.... OI1 the party arriving
at the-Tombs and:applying for admission. they were informed
that their conspiracy was well.iiknown., and tley were advised
to withdraw, and nothing would be said about the movement.
When all attempts'failed, a certain doctor of the  city
undertook to resuscitate Colt after he was hanged, in case thle
body was not: too long suspended.  This doctor asserted that
Coolt's neck was. of suchi thickness that it would requirc a longer
period than is usual ir n such cases before thle unifortunate manl
would be strangled. -A room:was::taken  at the Shakespeare
I-Iotel, where, tle body was to be brought. direct, from  the
Tombs, a-nd uthere all efforts mnade for its resuscitation.
Every attentiotl was paid to the, physi-cal wants,,of Colt during his term of imprisonment.- Each day he was visited by
his frieuds. Caroline ienslhaw was faithful to theo last.. For
hours,she remained in hlis ce11, aad offered ]im all the consolation her presence and conversation could aford.; Colt really
was attaclled to th, is womrnai,, as on the 18th of November —the
date set down for hLis. execution —he umarried' her i-n thlo To.m~bs.
THE DAY OF EXECUTION'-SUOI;DE OF TUE PRISONER.
At last the eventful day came-the 18th: of N.ovcrlnber. —
when (Jolt was to expiate his crime upon thle gallows. There
was the,greatest exciteet tllroutglout tthe city.  Crovwdr
hastened to the Tombs, which was thronged inside by those
who held passes, and in t-o t onut.side nieigI borhood by those
wvosee morbid-curiosity hadl. Wto.  sat4fied witht a view of the
20




306:             REMARKABLE TRIALS.
prison walls within which the awful judgment of the law was
about to be carried out.
Four o'clock was the hour announced for the execution to
take place. During the day Colt was visited by his friends
and others. Rev. Dr. Anthon administered to his spiritual
wants. At twelve o'clock Caroline lIens]haw arrived, and was
immediately slhown to the condemned cell. Colt, was much
affected on seeing the girl, to whomn he was undoubtedly very
much attached, and by whom he had one child-a son. The
pair were then united in wedlock. It was a singular and a
solemn ceremony. In three hours the bride was to become a
widow.
At one o'clock Caroline lienshaw-now  Mrs. Colt-took
leave of the unfortunate man. Deputy-Sheriff Iillyer shortly
after entered the cell, and bade Colt farewell. He was the
last man that saw him alive. A few minutes before four
o'clock Sheriff Hart, Deputty-Sheriff Westervelt, and Rev. Dr.
Anthon proceeded' to the cell in order to inform Colt that his
hour had come., The preparations were all complete. The
noose dangled in the breeze from the scaffold ready to receive
its victim. Outside, the crowd awaited in breathless silence
the appearance of the mournful procession.
On opening the cell door the visitors started back in horror.
Lying at full length upon his couch was John C. Colt, a
corpse. A small clasp-knife, with the handle slightly broken,
was stuck in his heart. The body was still warm, but the
spirit had departed before the throne of its Creator, where
eternal sentence had already been pronounced. The law had
been robbed of-its victim, but Samuel Adams was avenged.
Just then a cry of fire was beard. The'cupola of the Tombs
was found to be in flames. The news of Colt's suicide spread
among the crowd, and a  lrush was immediately made among
the large concourse of people assembled. The fire, however,
was speedily extinguished; and after considerable exertion on
the part of the police,, the assemblage dispersed, when order
was restored.
An inquest was immediately held upon the body, when, all
the above facts were sworn to. A verdict was rendered setting




JOHN C.- COLT.               -3,07
forth that John C. Colt came to his death at his Own hands.
The body was-then removed -by the friends of the deceased,
and placed in the vaults of St. Mark's- Church.
Rumors of the most extravagant nature m ere circulated
throughout the city for several days afte. the consummation of
this fearful tragedy. Some asserted that Colt had not -committed suicide at all, and that the setting fire to the Tombs was
simply a ruse in order to facilitate the escape of the prisoner.
These rumors, however, appear to have had no foundation., as
the most incontrovertible.facts were -brought forward to prove
that Colt had really taken his life with his own hands.
AN'ACCOUNT OF COLT"S -SUICIDE BY MR. L GAY.
LORD CLARKE.
A very interesting account of the circumstances anterior to
and succeeding the suicide -of Colt, has been written by Mr. L.
-Gaylord Clarke, which we append:I have no doubt thatbhnndreds and hundreds of people, in
this State, and in border-States, are at this moment in the -full
and undoubting belief that John C. Colt, who took the life ot
Adams in 1842, is still in existence!-that he never entirely
"killed himself," but, that he'was ".spirited away" from the
triple-barred and triple-guarded "strong immures" of the
Tombs; and is now in a foreign land, safe from  further
pe ril!
Why, not two months since, I heard a magistrate from one
of the lower counties of New Jersey say-a man accustomed to
deliberate, and carefully weigh' evidence, that "he has -no
more doubt that John C. Colt was among the living, than he
was that he himself was alive!"-.and I have heard at least
fifty persons affirm the same thing.
Few persons took a deeper interest in the case of Colt, from
the very beginning, than myself. Firmly believing that the
killing was never premeditated, but was the result of a quarrel
and a blow suddenly given, when-the parties stood face'to face,
with each other (and this was shown by the cast of thoe head,




3-08               RE-MARKABLE  TRIALS.
showingr the mark: made by tllhe hatchet, which Dr. Roger3 and
a committee, of which I was one, toolk up to Albany, and laid
before Governor Senx ardl) say, firmly- believing:all this, I never
-cou d consider,Colt a deliberate murderer.
Nor was he. He- was convicted for concealing. the body of:is unfortunate victim. Does any olle sluppose that if Colt
had rushed out into tlle hall, after hlaving struck the fatal blow,
and said, "1 have killed a man! —we have had a little diffi
cu Ilty —  have strucl: llm.with a ha.tchet, and have killed
hium!'". does anyl on-e:now. believe lhe would ever'lave been convicted.- Never.,!, B.ut this apart.I believe I am thle only survivor of those who left John C.
Colt in hdis cell at the Tombs, in company alone with his
brother Samuel, some three quarters of an hour before the
time appointed for the execuntion.
~Te late Rev. Mr.. Anthon, John. Ioward Payne,.. Sarnel
Colt, the Unhappy condemn ped, andr myself were the -nly l'ersons in the cell at this'tim'e. It was a scene never t:. be for-.gotten.
The condemned lad, oni a sad colorled morning.-g&oswn, and a
scarf tied loosely arolund his neck.   I He ld a cuip of coffee in.
his hand, nd was helping himnself to some sugar fromi a wooden
bowl, which -stood on an: ironu water-pipe near the head of his
bed.. His hand was perfectly steady, as he held the cup and
put in the sugar; and the only sign of intense internal agitati on and excitement -was visible in his eyes, which were literally blood- red, and: oscillated, so to speak, exactly like thle red
and incessantly-lmoving eyes of the Albinoes... Our intervilew wasprolonged for half an hours, whichl was
passed in conversation writh' Dr. Anthon, Mr. Paine, and his
brother,:.An-d.wl).en:. we were:about to depart, a:nd some one,
looking at lhis watch, said that lie tho-ghtlt he.must be somne
ten minutes fast, poor.John replied, ".Xay you nev:er see the
-time. tha-t. when those ten mnilnutes will be as precious to you
as.they.are to me!. But, -after all, we have Ill got:to go sooner
or later-and no man knows'when!"..-As we closed. the -cell door, leaving hlnm  alone with his soerroeving, faithful brother, the unhappy man kissed us all on each
lcheek, and bade us.' Farewell!" with emllotion, too deep for
tears-for not.a -drop moistened his throbbing, b:urnillg eyes.
We made our way wifth dlffi.ultv from  thile.Tombs,  b y the




JOHN C. COLT.                   309
aid of the surrounding police, who opened a space for our carriage through the crowd, which, in every direction, for two or
three blocks, filled the adjacent streets, and reached, on Franklin street, nearly if not quite to Broadway.
I resided at that time in Seventh street, between Eighth and
Ninth avenues, and Rev. Dr. Anthon lived in St. Mark's Place,
in  Eightlh  street.  We  deposited  thle good  doctor  at
his  dlor, and  after calling. at the same time  to  acquaint the family with thle last sad scene we llad witnessed,
Mr. Payne and I were driven quickly over to the New  York
University, In the soutllern tower of whlich, in thle upper story,
Mr. Samlnel Colt had his incipient pistol-manufactory, or
rather is Invention and Improvement Office.
As we entered, he was sitting at a talble, with a broadbrimmed hat drawn over his brow, his hands spread before
his eyes, and the hot tears frickling through hlls fingers.
After a few moments ~silence, at hlis request, I took a sheet'
of paper, and commenced, at his dictation, a letter to his
brother, lion. Judge Coti, then ot St. Louis.
I had not written more than five lines, when rapid footsteps
werehlleard on the stairs, and al.ackmnan rushed into the roomj
exclaimilzg in the wildest excitement
"Mr. Colt! Mr, Colt! your brother lhas killed lilmself-stabbed
himself to the heart!  Andl thle romnbs are a-fire! You can
see it a-burning now t"
"Thallk Gol! thank God i" exclaimed Mr. Colt, with an expression almost of joy.
We raised an eastern window of the tower, stepped out upar
the battlement, and by a short ladder, stepped out.on to the
roof of the chapel, or lairl edifice, and saw the flames ilcking
up anud curlinc around the great fire- tower of the Tom bs.
There was something peculiar about the air —the atmosphere
-on that day. One felt as one feels on a cold autuminai night,
while watching, uncovered in the open air, the flickering of
the aurora borlealis in tile.orthern sky. As early as half past
three.o'clock that afternoon, two stars were distinctly visible
through the cold thin atmosphere. This was iegarded at the
time as a remarkable phle,omenon.
Now everybody knows, or should know, that the body of
John C. Colt was found as exactly as describedl by the hack.




310                 1'iilMARKABLE TRIALS.
man; that life was totally extinct; that the corpse was encof.
fined, remloved, buried,. and " so remains unto this day."
ihe Tontrbs tower caught fire from anr over-lleated stove; and
yet, all the doubters of Colt's suicide, wliolml we have ever
illet, contend that the burning was part of the plan; that it
was hired to be set on fire,: and that in the confusion, tlie conldemned man escaped.
L. GAYLORD CLARKE.
THE MIJURDER OF LORD WILLIAM'RUSSELL
TRIAL, OF FIRAN9OIS BENJAMIN COURVOISTER. -IS CONVICTION, CONFESSION AND EXECUTION IN LONDON. —GREAT SPEECH OF MR.
CHARLES PHILLIPS IN DEFENCE OF THE PRISONER, &C. &C.
Courvoisier was a native of Switzerland, having  been born in- a
small village called Monte-la-Ville, in the month of August, 1816.
His father, Abrahama' Courvoisier, was a: small farmer. Frainlois
was at an early age placed in one of the common public schools in
the village, and after leaving this, he was engaged in assisting his
father up to his twentieth year. In: 1835, he left Switzerlandd, and
came to England, of the language of which he was, however,
wholly ignorant. IHe had an ulncle in England, a butler in the establishment ofa baronet, through whose influence he is said to
have obtained a situation as fbotman in the establishment of Lady
Julia Lockwood, where he remained for about seven months. IIe
left this service in 5Iarch, 1837, and entered that of Mr. 3J. M. Feetor, l.P., at Dover, where he remained as: footman for three years.
lie quitted Mr. Fector's service on the 31st of March, 1840, and
entered the establishment of Lord Willlam rIussell, where he was,
when, on the Inorningnof May 6, 1840, his Lordship was found
murdered in his bed, un-der circumstances that led to the committal
of Courvoisier on trial for the critme.
The deceasedl nobleman was a posthunmous chll(l of the MAarquis
of Tavistock, eldest son of the fouirth duke (who was killed during
his father's lifetime, by a fall fromn his horse, March, 1707), by




THE MURDgPr.Q'. LO(,D  Wi:U LuZIt fLUSSI,:TnL   &3iJI
Lady ElizaBeth Keppel, daug!hter of the second13    Earll of AermarleA.
The present Lord fJohn Russell is a membrnler of the same family.
Lord William was thje third and youngest brother of the two last
Dukes of Bedfiord, Francis alld Jllhn.  IHe was Lorn five monthlls
after his father's death,-lamely,  1 767., and was consequent!y: ty i
his seventy-third year.  lie married in July,, 1 789, Lady Cbharlotte
Anne Villiers,. eldest daughlter of the biurlth Earl of Jersey, who
died in August, IsOG6. F1y his wife he had seven children: —1. Gertrude Frances, born in Novelmbler, 1791, ald who married, in 181 6i
the Ilon. IHenry (Gvey Bennett, brotllher of tle Earl of Tankerville,
who died inl May, 1836.  2. Lieutenant,(Colonel Francis I ulssell,
born in March, 1793, and who died unmarried in November, 1837.
3. George, born April 7,, 1795.  4. John, Conlmander RlN., born
il July, i1796, and wh1o diedi in April, 1836,lhaving married Sophia,
Baroness de Clifford, by whom he has let flive surviving cllildren:.
51. Charlotte France'%i born in 1793, and wvho died the first year of
her are. 6. William, born in July, 1800, who married Emma,
dauglhter of the late Colonel John and Lady Charlotte Camnpbelf,
of the family of Argyll; and 7. Eliza Laura Henrietta,  born in
~January, 1803, who married her first cou'sin, the Rtev. Lord Wriothesly RIussell.
Lor(1 William Russell was: educated at Westminster School, anld
entered Parliament at an early age. IIe subsequently filled more
diplomatic offices, but never dlistinguished himself in any particular;:manner.
Strange circumstances attended the commencement as well as
termination of his career.  Hlis father, as we have already stated,
was killed by a fall from his horse, and. his mother died of grief
soon afterward, a martyr to her affection for her deceased lord.
THE TRIAL.
The trial of the prisoner commenced at the Central Crimlnal
Court, Old Bailey, on the morning of Thursday, the seventeenth
of June, 1840, and terminated on Saturday evening;
By nine o'clock in the morning many of the best seats in
the court were occupied by ladies, and on the benclh  were tlhe
Earl of Cavan. Lord Arthur Lennox, the  ion. hMi. Vr llers,
Sir Meontagu Chapman, the Lord Mayvor,   hllerits, Unller-Slier.
iffs, Alderman Sir Mathew  Wood, Alderman.tarlmelr,, a1nd
Alderman Ilumphery. Shortly aterwards, Mr. D  W. Harvey,
Lady Granville Somerset, the Earl of Manstield, the  Earl of




312'REMARKABLE TRIALS.
Sheffield, and other noblemen, gentlemen, and ladies, entered
the court.
The counsel for the prosecution were Mr. Adolphus, Mr. Bodkin, and Mr. Chambers; and for the prisoner Mr. Charles Phillips and Mr. Clarkson.
The attorney for the prosecution was Mr. Hobler, and for the
prisoner, Mr. Flower.
At half-past nine o'clock, a model of tile house in which the,unfortunate nobleman was murdered, was brought in and
placed upon the tajle in the centre of the court.
At a quarter before ten o'clock the Duke of Sussex entered
the court, attended by the Sheriffs and the Swordbearer.
At ten o'clock tile prisoner, Courvoisier, was brought into the
dock.
The clerk of the Arraigns then proceeded to read over the
indictment to the prisoner, and told him, as he was an alien, he,ad tite lripvilege of being tried by a jury composed half of
foreiinelrs and half of Englishmen, and asked him whether he
wished to have six of the jurors foreigners, or whether he was
eontent with a jury consisting entirely of Englishmen?
The prisoner replied that he was content to be tried by
EnilghsL inei
The jury were then sworn.
Lord Chief-Justice Tindal and Mr. Baron Parke entered the
c-flirt as the jury were being sworn, and took their seats by the
side of the Common Sergeant.
lord Chief-justice Tindal then directed the foreign jur'y to be
discharged.
The prisoner having pleaded not guil y,Mir. Adolphus rose to address the jury for the prosecution:HIe eorrmmenced by calling upon them  to dismiss from  their
minds Whatever they might previously have heard of the murder ot the most illustrious, learned, and amiable Ioblelnan who
hlad iallen a victim to the hand of the assassin. He dwelt upon
tile awfiii manner in which the late lord had been hastened to
allcdier state of existence; alluded to the history of several
miembrnters of the noble house of Russell, who had come to a sudden and untimely death, but the late Lord William Russell had
been cruelly and basely murdered in his own house, under circumstances of tle -most melancholy description. The learned
Clounsel thenl proceeded to state that the deceased nobleman




THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL.    313
was seventy-three years of age, and although in sufficient good
health to enjoy life, he was feeble and weak upon his feet, and
lived in such a manner, in tranquility and retirement, as to
allow the flame of life to be gradually extinguished. HIe lived
in a house of small dimensions, at 14: Norfolk street, the model
of which was now upon the table of the court; and his household consisted of two female servants and a valet within the
house; and a coachman and a groom  who lived out of the
house. Such was the state of his lordship's household up to the
time of his death. The learned counsel then proceeded to point
out to the jury the different apartments of the house, and next
called their particular attention to the back part of the premises, showing how difficult it was to gain access to it, from the
manner in which it was blocked up by stables and other buildings. both at the sides and in the rear The female servants
were persons of unexceptionable character. The prisoner had
lived in his lordsllip's service for five weeks, and previously to
being in his lordship's service had borne an excellent character
-in fact, up to the moment of this crime being imputed to him
there seemed not to be a blemish on his character. On the
morning of the fifth of MIay, his lordship rose at his usual hour
of nine, then went out, and spent his morning as noblemen do
spend their mornings, leaving several messages with the prisoner, some of which the prisoner had expressed fears he should
forget. Iis lordship afterwards returned to his dinner at the
usual hour, subsequently took his coffee, and retired to bed about
his usual time. I-Ie laid himself down on his bed that night
never to rise any more. The next morning lie was found mangled and a corpse. Tiie learned counsel then detailed the circumstances of the prisoner having forgotten to send his lordship's carriage to Brooke's club house, as he had been told to do,
as well as the conversation which ensued between the servants
on the sulbject, and the fact. of the prisoner's having procured
beer for the servants, after taking which they had f'elt sleepy
and gone to bed. On the next morning, about six o'clock, the
housemaid, Sarah Mancell, rose, and in poming down-stairs the
first thing which she remarked was the warming-pan, with
which the prisoner had warmed his lordship's bed, standing in
the passage, appearing as if he had, instead of taking it downstairs as usual, immediately after warming the bed, gone up to
his own bed-room. Mancell went down into the passage, and




.314               rEMARKABIBLE TRIAL3;.
there saw things scattered about, and tile door unlocked and
unbolted, as if the house had been burglariously entered.  She
alarmed tile cook, who told her to go to the" valet,, Courvoisier,
which was very natural.'he did so, anld the prisoner came
down in an unusually short time.  There mnight or there nlight
not be anything in, this circumstance, but it was his duty to
state it to them. The first of the prisoner's, acts was to! remove
the warm-ing-paun, and carry it down to its! proper place. After'
reading the list of the articles found in the passage, lie called
the attentioin of the jury to the fact of these articles: being left
behind, and to the inference whice  it led to, that no, real burg,
lary had been committed, but that every, attempt had been
made to gi-ve the appearance of one.  Hle next called the
attentiin of the jury  to. the  suspicious, mariner  of the
prisoner when he first went into his: lordship's bed-room; his
si-lknce and his inactivity, while every one else was: in a state' of
bustle and confusion.  It had' at first been supposed that his
lordship had comm.itted suicide, but, independent of the: improb.
ability of this from his lordship's c(haracter, it had, been satisfactorily proved that his lordship, could not have inflicted the
wound which was, the cause of his; death, for no instrument
of death was to be found, and it was impossible that. the dead
man could  have- put it out of the  way.   Besides, the
body, and even the face, of the deceased, was covered up in
such a manner as no person could have himself done: after committing suicide.  The next suspicious cirdumnstance against the
prisoner,was the broken state: of the: back door, to which he hlad
pointed as the' place where the thieves had. entered. Neither
the tiles, nor the walls, nor the white-wash of the walls, had
been displaced or discolored. in any way whatever; and it
would have been hi'possible f,,r any: one to conme over the leads,.
or tiles at the back, without leaving marks in the dust upon the
leads. Even a cat's foot would have left a mtark upon the dust.
But th'e dust was not disturbed, and there was no mark of imrportance, even of a cat's foot.  Scientific' men, and persons acquainted with such msntters, had given their opinion that the
marks made u1pon the- door had not been made from  thle outside, but from the. i!lside of the door. tAnd if this was the case,
it was a: damning c(ircumnstanlce against the prisoner.  After alluding to the screw-driver and otller things found, he called tkhe
attention of the iury to the state of the rushlight found in his




TIlE MURIYER  0F LORD: WILLIAM RUSSELL.,5
lordship's bed-roon.  It was usual for his lordsllip to bilrn a
tusllight- but ol tile morning of tile discovery of the nmurlder,
the ruslhlight was found to have been: very little burnt, while a
wax-candlo was found in a candlestick burnt down in thle s6i;ket.
The presumption was, that the rushlight Ilad been put out ihamediately before or imlinediately after th.e Imurder, and the
wax-candle llaid been  sed' by the nmurderer to see ]his way
about thle lhouse.  lie now caine to thle discoveries lmade upol a
more minute examination. In his. lordship's l)cd-rooli thlere
was a watch-stand, but no watch in it; andI on the prisoner being askecd wvhethler his lordship's watch was in it thle night befbre, lie replied that it was; but it was not fund for several
days afterwards, and then under inost suspicious eirullstaices.
The prisoner, on being as-ked if: his lordship had an-y money,
gai&d that the had a tenll pound and a five pound note previously
to his murder, and the telln pound note had been foun(l subseiuiently under circuinstancs,   and in a pllace, to lead to tile Suspicion that no one but tlle prisoner could have placed it wllre it'was found.'Thlis tell pound note would become a very material
point of the evidence.  It would be proved that it had been
entrusted to his lordship for a charitable purpose-for his
lordship was a charitable lan, as every one knew who was ac —
quainted with his character.  II' dwelt upon the suspicious fact
6f his lordclip's.keys beilng found on the hearth-rug.  After the
premises had been generally searchlled, the prisoner's box was
searchled, but nothing was found, and it was hardly necessary to
say that no one would be such a fool, if he had taken tle property under suchll circumstances, as to put tlhem  into his box,
which lhe must know would be searched.- lie stated once for
all, that lihe did not rely on anything which was found in the
prisoner's box, froinm first to last; but on subsequent examinations,  behind the skirting-board in the pantry, five gold rings,
undoubtedly his lordship's property, had been found; and behind another part of the skirting-,board was found a, Waterloo
medal; and the ten pound note was also found at tlhe same
time'. This note the prisoner had admitted was in the iiote-case
in the bed-rooin the day before tile murder, and if a burglar had
taken this note, was it likely that he would have concealted it iIn
such a place as this, or Would lie not halve taken it away with hiu.?
Subsequently a locket was found in thle prisoner's pocket, and
on its discovery, the prisoner said,'That's mny locket.'  Ou




316                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
the ninth of 2May; another locket, was founld, which would,
be a very important link  in  the evidence. A  few days
before the unhappy catastrophe, his lordship had gone to
Rich.nond, accompanied by tile prisoner only.  While at
ERichmond, he went over to Ilampton Couirt to see his relative,
Lady Sarah Bailey. During his stay there, and in the mid3st
o(f a conversation with hler, lie dropped the locket out of his
pocket. lie went to the chapel at Hampton Court, and on his
return from tile c!hapel the locket was returned to hirm by Lady
Sarah Btailey. IIe put it into his pocket, and never saw it
afterwiards. Ile made frequent inquiries after it of Lady Sarah
Blailey, and also wrote a letter to the innkeeper of llichmond,
which did honor to his feelings. But the locket was never
more seen, until found under the hlearthstone in the butler's
pantry, after the marder, and it was impossible that any person could have placed it there but the prisoner. The watch,
Wvhich the prisoner had said was in his lordship's bed-roomt the
night before the murder, was also subsequently found under
the lead of the sink, hlaving never been in any other human
possession but the prisoner's. IeIc was obliged to anticipate the
defence, for he knew not what it would be. It was difficult to
conceive what tmotive the pri oner could have had for the perpetration of the murder, but such was the constitution of the
human mind, that there were motives which 1no one could conceive. The prisoner had complained that he was dissatisfied
with his place; lie had said, "I am sorry I came ]lere; I have
given away a sovereign for seventeen shillings in silver."  It
was probable that the prisoner had supposed his lordship had
a good deal of money in his possession, and that his motive in
committing the murder was plunder. Ie lef't it to them to say
whether this was not a just view of the case. If the prisoner
had no motive, who could have had a motive?  It the prisoner
could not have done it, who could have done it?  It would be
said, lie knew, that the evidence was circumstantial. It was
so; but if all thle parts, if each atom of the evidence were complete, he thought it was as good evidence as could be had. It
would not do to consider thle parts of evidence separately.
They must be taken together, and if the chain of proof were
complete, the objection to such evidence fell to the ground.
He quoted the opinion of Lord Chief laron Macdo-nald upon
circumstantial evidence-namely, that when the witndes-se nei



THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM  RUSSELL.    317
tlher contradicted each other nor themselves, it mlighlt be even
more satisfactory thllan direct.evidence. An atteinpt had bee!l..made to throw discredit on the evidence of Sarah Mancell,
but he could not help saying that she remained'altogether unimpeached.
IHo combated the insinuation thrown out against the police,
— name!Jr, that they lhad tried  to'get up' this case for the
sake of the reward; and after sayiIg how unworthy -was the
snupposition, that the noble family for whllom he appeared W-ere
capable of lluntin(i down a foreigner in a strange. land, ihe
p!oceeded to tell the jury their duty in th:e case before them.
It was a Case which required firmn and upright hearts, and
clear and intelligent heads. Should their verdict be an acquittal, no one could blame themn for. that; btit i1; on tle other
hand,' they. found the prisoner guilty, tlhey would do so according to the evidence iaid' before themn, and would knrow that
they had done their duty. The evidence was then gone into.
Sarah Mancell examined by Mr. Bodkin-After stating of
vwhom the establishment of the deceased noblanan consisted,
and the fact of his lordship giving the prisoner certa:n orders
on thle morning precedingthlle murder-,'before lie. went out, withess said —After dinner the )risoner went out to deliver his Inessages, and returned a little before five, and lie then'said he
sl-ould putt out his lordship's things to dress.;Soon after this
tlte- upholsterer's mar. caine to thle lonse. Tlis ws as lout five
o'cloek. I-Ie stayed a short time and then le-ft the house, after
doirg some little job that-was required.  The prisoner went
up stairs with the upholsterer's man, and while they were gm1e.,
an i acquaintance of the prisoner's, naimed Carr, rang the area
bell.  He came down the area steps' into the kitchlen, and
stayed and took tea with them after the uplolsterer's man was
gone. While they were at tea, the coachllnan cae in by the
arct steps, wvhen:somethinlg waIs said' atbout the carriagre not
being sent for Lord Russell, and the prisoner said he lad forgtten to -order'it, and he should tell his lordslhip that lhe had
ordered "it at'halfpast five;- adding that his lordship.was very
forgetfuul, and he must pay -for his forgetfl tness.  The coachrna'n upoa ththis left the house, and the prisoner thien wen.t into.is how  pantry with. Car.
oA model. of the houstte was here showu thee witness and she
d:.tneii:     tlhe situatin.of..  the:-e kithen and tie.pantry...




318              REMARKABLE:TRIALS.
Examination continued-His lordship came home in a hackney cab, about twenty minutes to six, and the prisoner went
up and let him in. His lordship immediately went to the dining-room, which was directly over the kitchen.  She soon
afterwards saw the prisoner come down with -a letter in his
hand, and-he said he was going to take it to the stables, and
he went out, accompanied by Carr, and they were absent about
sufficient time to enable them to get to the stable and back..
The prisoner told her that his lordship appeared angry when
he first came home, but that he afterwards got quite goodtempered.  When the prisoner came from the stables, he
brought a dog with him, and his lordship went out and took
a walk with the dog, as was his custom before dinner every
day, and the prisoner was then engaged in making arrangemnents for the dinner. The dinner-hour was seven, and a few
minutes before that hour, a bell-hanger came to fasten the
handle of his lordship's door. His lordship dined alone on
that day, and was waited upon by the prisoner; after his
lordship had dined, he went into the back drawing-room.
She went to bed, and to her knowledge he did not go again
into the dining-room. About nine o'clock the coachman came
to fetch the dog.  The cook went out, and witness and the
prisoner'supped alone about nine o'clock; and while they were
at supper, they had some conversation about changing servants.
The cook was going away, and a new cook was:expected. The
prisoner said that his lordship would take any servant that he
recommended. He also said that he did not like his lordship's
service. On the 22d of April, which was the day his lordship
returned from Richmond, the prisoner said his lordship had
been very cross and. peevish, as they had changed his rooms
three times while he was stopping at the Castle Hotel there.
The prisoner also said that his lordship had lost a locket while:
he was staying there; and he did not know how it was lost,
but he could not find it. He also said he could. not tell how
the late valet had stopped so long, as his temper would notallow him (prisoner) to stop with his: lordship.  All this took 
place on the 22d of April. Between that time and the 5th of
May, she heard the prisoner say he must write about the
locket to the porter.  He did not say what porter he meant;
and she did not hear him say anything in reference to the
locket after this time. On the evening of the 5th May, the




THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL..31 9.
cook went out and returned a little after ten, and the prisoner
let her in by the front door. After the cook came in, the prisoner went out by the area steps to fetch a pint of porter, and
returned by the same entrance. He was only gone a very few
minutes.  She did not know whether he locked the area gate
or not; it was the duty either of the cook or the prisoner to
hlave fastened it. She left the kitchen to go to bed about a
quarter or twenty minutes past ten o'clock.  Her bed-room
is directly over that in which his lordship slept, and the cook
slept in the same room, but in a separate bed. It was her duty,
every other night, to light a fire in his lordship's bed-room,
and she di-l so that night, and after lighting it went to her own
bed-room. The prisoner slept in an adjoining room. At this
time every thing appeared to be iii its usual state.  The room
behind Lord Russell's bed-room was not at this tiqle: used for
any purpose. His lordship's door Was covered with green.
baize, but the others were not. The door at the foot of the
attic stairs was sometimes left open at night and sometimes
closed. The cook came to bed in about a quarter of an hour
or twenty minutes after witness got to bed. Neither herself,
nor the cook, to her knowledge, left the bed-room any more;
on that night she heard no noise, and was not disturbed at any
time during the night. It was the duty of the prisoner' to remain up until his lordship went to bed, and to leave a supply of
coals, or any thing that might be necessary. Witness awoke on
the following morning about a quarter past Six o'clock, and at
this time the cook was in bed and asleep, apparently. She then
proceeded to state what she saw upon going down stairs, as mentioned in the opening speech of the learned counsel. After the
police had been called into the house, her attention was directed
to his lordship's gold pencil-case, gold tooth-pick, and a napkin, in which both those articles were folded, a silver sugargrater, a silver caddy-spoon, a silver top of a salt-dredger, a pair
of silver spectacles, and a silver cayenne-spoon. She recognized
the napkin as the same she had given out on Monday at his
lordship's dinner, and she saw it again on the Tuesday.' The
things mentioned were kept in different parts of the house. The
cloak was generally kept in the dining-room; the opera-glass in
his lordship's bed-room; the trinket-box in his dressing-case.
His spectacles, she believed, he generally carried about with




320               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
him. The other articles were generally kept in the cupboard
in the butler's pantry. Some of the articles were also kept in
the cupboard of the side-lboard. After this she went to the
cook and said something to her, and afterwards went to the
prisoner's room and called out,'Courvoisier, do you know of
any thing being the matter last night?'  He opened the. door
immediately: about ten minutes had elapsed from the time when
she first knocked at his door; he was dressed all but his coat when
she went the second time. It was his usual custom to go down
and wash himself in the pantry. There was nothing peculiar in
his dress on this morning. He had his shoes on. The moment
she saw Courvoisier, she said,'Do you know that all the silver
is about.' He looked very pale and agitated, but gave no answer. He put his coat dowtn, and went down instantly. He
went first, and she followed after hlim. HIe took the warmingpan down with him into the dining-room. It was her custom to
call the prisoner in the morning. He was never down so soon
as on that morning after her calling him.  Sometimes he
was half an hour, sometimes a quarter of all hour, and sometimes an hour. The first room  he went into was the -diningroom, and there he left the warminlgpan. She did not hlear
him say anything on going into the dining-room. He next
went down to his pantry. There is a door near the pantry
which opensinto the back area; but' she did not notice the
state of that door. She followed him into the pantry; there were
a cupboard and drawers in the pantry, which were all open.
The prisoner went up to the drawers, and said,'MIy God!
somebody has been robbing us.' Witness then said,'Let lS
go up stairs,' and on getting as far as the passage, she said,'Let us go and see where his lordship is.'  They went up
stairs, prisoner first, and she following. He entered by the
green door, The door closed on him, and she went in immediately afterwards. One of the windows of the room is directly opposite the door. As she entered the room  she saw
the prisoner in the act of opening the shutters of the middle
window. To do that a person would have to pass the foot of
the bed. She went about half way round the foot of thlle bed,
and  noticed  blood on  the  pilloWm, but before she saw
that  she exclaimed,'My  lord! my lord!' on which the
prisoner said,' HIere he is,' or'There  be is,' she did
not know  which.   On seeing the blood she screamed,




THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL.    321~
and ran out of the room, and out at the street door, and then
over to No. 23, in the street, and rang the bell. Finding ther'e
was no answer at No. 23, she rang at No. 22. She was not
gone ten minutes. ~ On her return to the house, she went into
the dining-room, and found the prisoner sitting on a, chair, in
the act of writing; he had a pen in his hand, alnd a sinall piece
of paper on a large book. She said, " What the deuce are
you sitting there for,? Why do you not go and see for some
one, or a doctor?" HIe said, "I must write to Mr. Russell,"
and.continued writing. Witness said, " Some one must go for
him.' - M. Russell was a son of Lord William  Russell, and
lived at 9 Chesnut-place, Belgrave-square. There was a sort
of laboring man going pzast, and prisoner beckoned to him, but
she -told him not to call suchI a man as that, and the man went
on about his business. The coachman and Young, Mr. L;:tham's
servant, came in a few minutes afterwards, and went up stairs.
She then ran down, to send some for Mr. Elsgood, a surgeon
in Park-street, who arrived soon afterwards, as did also the
police. Witness went up with them, and then saw his lordship's face, and noticed a quantity of blood. There were two
pillows, and they were generally placed side by side, as if for
two persons. They we're in that state w:en she saw thetn that
morning. IHis lordship lay on the right side of his person, his
face towards the window. IH6 was lying with his head on the
pillow next the window, and the other pillow was lying behind
him. There'was a dressing-table in the room, with the white
cloth, on which his lordship used to put -his pencil case, and
also his rings. On the mornin g after the murder there were
no rings, nor was there a gold pencil case upon the tal-)le. She
saw a purse there; it was empty. The police have remained
in possession of the house from that time to.the present. She
had conversations with the prisoner on the subject of money.
The last time was on the Tuesday morning, tile Sth of May.
He said that he had no money at home, and that he never took
any out with him, nor had he any at the bank. lIe afterwards
said he had eight pounds solne odd shillings in the bank. In
the course of the same conversation he said all the Ironey he
had was five pounds, and when that was gorne he must ask his
lordsllip for more; he had eight ~pounds on his books against
his lordship. She asked him if he had got rid of all the money
she had seen him take out. He had taken oWut some sovereigns




322              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
with him on the Monday before; he had put them  in his
waistcoat pocket; he had. fetched the sovereigns out of his bedroom. It was to that she alluded. I-e said, in answer, he had,
for he had paid a tailor's bill. He said before that he was not
so well off now as when lie first came to England, and he said
it again at tea-time, when Carr was there. On the Tnesday
morning he said he had only ive pounds left. lIe spoke of the
five pounds before he said he llad the eight pounds in the
bank. She had heard him speak of Lord  W. Russell's property
on two occasions. The first -was before his lordship went to
Richmond. tie said old Billy was a ruin old chap, and if he
had his money he would not remain long in England. She
said his lordship was not a very rich. man, and lie repeated
wlhat he had said. The second time was after his retu rn from
Richmond. In the course of the day, May 6, she asked the
prisoner if he heard her knock. at lIis door;. he-said he thought
he would begin to dress, btut did not say whether he heard her
or not. She had firequently: seen the prisoner in his lordship's
bed-room, and noticed that lie always was looking into all his
lordsllip's property. She asked himrl what he was going to do,
and h( always said he was looking after something, but did not
say w!at. This occurred before be went to Richmrond. Shle
could not say what particular articles lie was loiking alt in the
bed room. He was, on one occasion,.looking at the dressingcase; he had it down in the pantry. He was looking at his
lordshlip's property not only in one room, but in every room.
When he went to Richmond, the little box covered with Russia leather, which hlis lordship  called  his cash-box, was
unlocked; he was: looking into that. It was usually kept by
the side of his lordship's bed. The prisoner brought it down,
and said it was unlocked. IHis lordship was then out for a
walk. The prisoner brought it down into the dining-room.
The witness was searchingly cross-examined;by Mr. Charles
Philllips, but nothing of any special importance elicited.
Mary Hammell, cook in Lord W. Russell's service, and who
bad lived with him two rearsand nine months, was then examined, and:confirlmed, in almost all respects, the evidence of
the preceding witness. In her cross-examination, she said
that, when thetmurder was discovered, the prisoner appeared
to be much alarmed at the time. He said he sholcld never get
a place again., He was alarmed and agitated like the rest.




THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL.  3-         3
She also stated that there was some quantity of plate that ha3
never yet been found.
[The next day's proceedings show the extraordinary discovery of this missing plate, during the progress of the tliial.]
William York, who was coachman to the late Lord Williain
Russell, and Emanuel Young, coachman to M~r. Lather,  3
Norfolk-street, were then examined, but thley only deposed to
some of tie facts already spoken to by Sarah Mancell.
]Mr. IHenry Elsgood, examined by Mr. Chamlbess-I am a
suirgeonl residing ill Brook-street. I was called to thle house or'
the late Lord William Russell on the morning of thle ith of
May, at half-past seven. I went into liis bed-ro, m, and saw
lis body. in bed covered up. The bed-clothes' were over the
body, and the towel over his face. I turned the clothes down,
and removed the towel. The,body was lyizng o:l the )ack, inclining to the right side. Therlc   w-as somne blood on the sheet,
on the pillow, and on thle towel over his face. Is shirt coll.r
was wide open, and there was a sort of worsted comfrtec
over the chest. I divided it, ant( saw a would extendillml
from the top of the left shoulder across the throat:land neclk,
dividing the throat. It was decidedly sufficient to destroy life
immediately. It was about four or five inches dep at tlce
commencement, and about three at the termination.; it was
made with one incision. Great force must lave' bleen use(l in
making it. It might hlave been made withl a knife, or some
such instrument. I have not been shown any knives that were
found downstairs. It is impossible his lordship could lavec
inflicted it himself. I found no instrument near ]his lordship
with which itmight have been done. I again examlined the
body on the following Friday. The ball of the thu mrb of the
right hand was nearly. cut off.  When I first uncovered the
body, the left hand gripped the sheet. There was bloo 1 upon
the corner of the pillow lying by his side, down by his head.
as if it had been used tO prevent the gush of blood by lholding
it over the wound.
Mr. John Nussy-I am  an apothecary, residing, in Cleve.
land-row, and was the medical attendant of the late Lord Win.
Russell.'He was 73 years of age, of spare andfeeble habit, and
subject to asthma.  I was sent for to lis  house on the 6th ot
May, and found Mr. Elsgood there. I examined thle wound, and
have heard the evidence of Mr. Elsgood, and agree with hn11




~4            - REFEIKRABLE TRIALS.
in what lie has said. I could feel the neck-bone in the wound.
I requested those present to place the things exactly as they
hadbeen at the time of the discovery. They did so. Courvoisier
assisted in doing so. Thomas Selwyn, servant to Mr. Cutler,
residing nex door to the late Lord William Russells, in Norfolk street, corroborated part of the evidence of the housemaid.
John Baldwin examined by Mr. Chambers —I am a policeman. I was on duty in Norfolk-street on the morning of the
6th of BMay. I went to Lord William Russell's a few minutes
past seven. A female let me in. Rolls was with me. I asked
if there was any man-servant. I saw a person sitting behind
the doqr who was pointed out to me as the man-servant. He
was sitting with his hands over his face. I asked him why he
did not get up. HIe made no answer, and did not move his
hands from his face. I addressed him three times, and said to
Rolls, "Rolls, he must know something about this." He never
made any answer. I remained there, putting up the things
together. I then went down into the kitclhen with Rolls, and
examined the back kitchen door. I found it standing open.
I observed some marks of violence on the door. I went into
the butler's pantry, and found a person sitting behind the
door, with his elbows on his knees,:and his lands to his face,
alpparently the same I liad seen in the dining-room. I had told
him he had made a devil of a pretty mess of it, that he must
know all about it-(Laughter, in which the prisonerjoined
heartily)-but I had no answer. I went into the yard, and
got up out of the area into the top yard, and examined the
party wall, between 14 and 15. It is a whitewashed wall.
Near the top there is a ledge of slate projecting about two
inches. There were no marks on the wall. The steps were
standing in the yard, against the wall, but not in such a positioa as any person could get up them. They were not open.
Rolls pulled them out. I got up and saw the lead flat: it was
covered with dust, and there were neither foot-marks nor
finger marks. No person could have passed over it without
marking it. I tried it with my hand, and my hand made a
mark on it.
Cross-examined by Mr. C. Phillips-What were you doing
when you were angry with the prisoner for not giving assistance?: Witness-I was inquiring what was lost. The females
never told mle anything. When I examined the kitchen door




THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL.    325
I thought at first some one had broken in, when I saw the door
was open, but on further examination I saw there was no
break-in. I never saw the placard offering a rewarld, and I do
not know what it is to this day. I have heard of no reward
in this case. I have been in Lord Williain Rulssell's house
three or four times. I have not talked to my brother policemen about it; it may have been mentioned. I hlave spoken
to policemen about it. I will not swear I have not spoken to
twenty about it. I never heard talk of any reward. I can
write and read a little, but not much. I belonlg to the Vinestreet station. I am there every day.
Mr. C. Phillips-Did you never hear of any reward of five
hundred pounds being offered for any of the missing spoons
and folks 2 —There was something about it read out in general
orders, but I do not know what it was about, nor what the
amount of the reward was. I cannot tell when it was read.
I cannot tell if it was a week ago, or four days ago, or if it
was yesterday.
At the conclusion of the examination of thxis witness, the
Court adjourned to ten o'clock on the following dav
SECOND DAY.-FRIDAY.
The Court resumed this morning, and was crowded in every
part.
At ten o'clock, Mr. Sergeant Arabin opened the Court, and
the prisoner was placed at the bar. lie appeared firm, but
rather fatigued, and not in quite such good spirits as on the
preceding day.
Mr. Adolphus stated that he had to say, that in the course
of yesterday a most important piece of evidence had been discovered, which he intended to offer to the Court, and that,
therefore, if the Court wished it, he should open it.
iMr. C. Phillips said, that, in justice to the prisoner, the information ought to have been communicated to his legal
advisers; he must deprecate any statement being made at present.
Mbr. Adolphus —.c communication was made. immediately
to you.
MIr. C. Phillips-Neither Mr. Clarkson nor myself heard
anything about it until the last quarter of an hour, and there
is our solicitor willing to makQ oath to the same, as' regards




326              )REMA.RKABLE TRIALS.
himself. Let us know, therefore, to whom the communication
was made.
Lord Chief:Justice Tindal-The evidence, I suppose, will be
produced in the regular course. Let us have no more inquiry
about it, but call the inext witness.
Johll Tedman, inspector:of the police, was next examined,
and after stating similir facts to those related by Baldwin, he
was cross-examined, and said-I asked the prisoner if anything
was mis-ing tfrom the sideboard. He said some spoons and
forks, but I cannot tell how many. I asked the prisoner if the
cloak and other articles found in the passage were lhis lordship's
property, and he said "Yes."  I said io thief would ever
leave this property behind. IHe said, "It is certainly very
odd."  I asked if lie had locked the street-door at night when
he went to bed. Ile said he had, and showed me, by putting
up the chain, shooting the lock, and putting to the bol. lie
bolted both top and bottom bolt. I asked hiln how he found
it in the morning. He undid the chain, unlocked and unbolted
it, and put the spring of the lock by the hook, and I said, As
you see it now. There is a door at the end of the passage going into the garden. It is partly a glass door. The chain was
on that door. It was bolted, and it had never been disturbed
at all. There was an inside shutter to it. It was down. It
could be pushed down without unfastening the door. The
glass was whole and unbroken, and tlhere was not a mark on
the door; the area gate was uninjured; it was locked. There
is no gate to the back area. I went to the pantry, and saw a
press there with some drawers; they were openl; the top of one
was forced, as if by a chisel or a screw-driver, or some such
blunt instrument. The lock was sprung, as if locked. The
articles in the drawer were disturbed. There is a window in
the pantry. I asked him if it was fastened last night; he said,
"I donot think it was, but I cannot say exactly." I then
went to the back door on the basement story; it was very much
bruised, as I have before stated..Thie prisoner assisted in examining the door, and pointed out some marks which I had
not seen. I said to the prisoner, on examining the door,
"Some of you in the house have done this deed."  He said,
" If they have, I hope they will be found out." I said, "There
is not much fear but what they will."  I looked about to see
how ary body could have got into the house. I examined the




THE MURDER — OF'LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL        327
wall. There were some slates which lmlust have been disturbed,
I slhould think, by any person descending that wall. There
was a quantity of dust on the slates, which was undisturbed. I
went with the prisoner into his bed-room. I found there a
purse; there was a five-pound Bank of England note, aIndI six
soverei-.lns in it. I asked the prisoner hiow he came by the
Yiote. I-Ie said he had given his lordship change for it some
days ago, and that the rest of the money he had had some
time. Ile showed me his box. I examined everything in it,
but found nothing to throw any li-(ght upon this case. The, box
was left in the room, and the key in the prisoner's possession.
IHe left the box open. IIe appeared to have on quite a clean
shirt that morning. The prisoner, although not in custody,
was under the watch of the police, a.nd the female servants
were watched also. Care was taken to prevent their having
conference with one another; but the prisoner was not hindered fron having access to his own room. IHe was taken
into custody on the afternoon of Friday, May 8, but was not
taken out of the house until Sunday. On Sunday he was taken
to the station-house, and on Monday, the 11th of May, he was
taken before the justices at Bow.street. On the evening of the
13th of May, a person, representing himself as the uncle of the
prisoner, came to the house and asked for some clean linen fqr
the prisoner. I, having hadl directions to let him  have what
he required, went up next mornling to his box to get it, and in
doing so unfolded a sllirt, from which the gloves produced
dropped out. They are white cotton gloves.  I had on the
previous examination unfolded the shirts in the box, but had
not shaken them. The gloves dropped down when I shook the
shirt. On the former occasion I had unfolded the shirt without
finding anything, and on this occasion I had unfolded the shirt
without finding anything, but when I shook it, the gloves
dropped out.
William Rose, a police constable, and Henry Beresford, aal
inspector of police, corroborated the evidence of their colleagues, in almost all particulars.
Nicholas Pearce, a division inspector of police, in the course
of his examination by Mr. Bodkin, said-In searching the
premises I found the poker produced in the fire-place in the
butler's pantry. It was bent, as it now appears.  Such an instrument would male a similar mark to that on the wood in



328              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
side the socKet of the bolt.  In the same pantry I found the
screw-driver produced on a shelf. I applied it to some of the
marks on the door, and it corresponded. I found the pair of
tongs produced. I found the hammer produced in the cupboa d in the pantry'. I fitted it to the marks in the door and
door-post, and it fitted them when the door was shut from the
outside. It would be impossible to force the door open by
such an instrument, if bolted on the inside.  The marks on
the socket of the upper bolt could not have been made by a
person from the outside, if the door had been fastened.  The
socket of the lower bolt had been started from its place, but
not off. The bolt was rusted, and did not appear to have been
used lately. There were considerable marks of violence about
the lower bolt, which would have been unnecessary if the bolt
had not been shot. I found marks which could not have been
made if the bolt had been shot. One of a screw-driver on the
rabbeting, which could not have been made from the outside.
In my judgment, no bretaking into the house could have taken
place from the outside. I was present when some experiments
were made on the half-glass door.  Until they were made,
the door was uninju ed. I rmade the first inark on it myself.
I saw an experiment made wlhile the door was on the latch,
by placing the claws of the hammer between the door and
door-post and pressingy the handle down. It did not force the
latch, which resisted tlle pressure.  The mark produced was
equally deep with that on the door below, and quite similar.
I applied the tongs to the door of the safe in the pantry, which
had been forced open. The mark corresponded with the tongs.
[The door was produced, for inspection.] I also found a screwdriver, which I compared with the marks in the safe, and
found it to correspond.  On the Monday I made some inquiry
of the prisoner respecting the missing property. I aslked him
if he knew what money or property had been taken. He said
he had seen a 101. note and a 51. note in a purse a few days
ago.. I asked him where the plate was kept that was found in
the passage. I-Ie pointed out a cupboard in the sideboard in
the dining-room. On the Friday I searched the prisoner's
boxes with Shaw. I never searched them with Tedman.  I
searched a portmanteau, a deal box, and the drawers. I saw
two clean shirts in tie portmanteau, but cannot say that I examined them minutely. On the same day I made a search ia




THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM  RUSSELL.    329'the prisoner's pantry.  &t that time workmen were in the
house, to take up the drains. I was searching in the pantry,
by the side of the fire-place, near the sink under the window.
I took away a piece of the skirting-board which runs from the
fire-place to the corner under the sink.  When I pulled it
down, 1 sawv the purse produced, about two inches in behind
the skirting. I perceived that the mortar had been disturbed
before I took the skirting away. I found in the puirse five gold
coins and five gold rings —ne a wedding-ring-and a small
piece of silver. I then took away another l:piece of skirtingboard, and found a Waterloo medal, and, further on, a 10,i
Bank of England note; all of which I now produce.  This
note was folded up; it was not wrapped up in anything. The
skirting was quite dry; it was on the side of the fire-place.
The prisoner was in the dining-room when I found these things.
I went up to him directly afterwards; Constable Collier was
with him. I laid the things I had found on the table before
him, and said, I have found these things concealed inll your
pantry, behind the skirting-board. I-Ie said,'I know nothing
about them; I am innocent, and my conscience is clear; I
never saw the medal before.' I then took him down into the
pantry, and.pointed out to him the place from whence I had
taken them. He again said,-' I am innocent; I know nothing
about them.' Ile remained in the pantry for some time. I
then proceeded with my search in the presence of the prisoner.
There is a water-pipe going round the room, and is continued
into an adjoining scullery.  In removing that pipe between
the pantry and the door, I saw Collier put his hand to the
pipe, and take a ring behind it down. Some one hlad previously
said'IIollo! -there is a ring.' The ring produced is the one;
it is a split ring. I continued the search, but found nothing
more concealed that day. I afterwards went up into the prisoner's bed-room, and searched his person. I found about 5s. in
silver, a small locket, and a bunch of keys upon hiln.  lie
said the locket was his, and I have no reason to believe the
contrary.
Mr. Clarkson-Was it not to get a confession from the prisoner, that you told him those things were found in his pantry?
Witness-I suspected he was the person who put them  there,
and thought it my duty, at that stage of the proceedings, to acquaint him with it.




330               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
Mr. Clarkson —Did you intend to obtain from him anything
rlke a confession?  Witness-I expected the prisoner might
make some remark, which might be either for him or against
him. I had naturally a great anxiety to obtain every information on the subject. MIr. Mlayne, the Commissioner, was in
the room. Mr. itobler was there at the time.
Mr. Clarkson- Did you not say to the prisoner,'I found this
property concealed in your pantry-can you now look me in
the face?' Witness-l said so among other things.
Mr. Clarkson-.Did you think that language calculated to
intimidate the prisoner? Witness —It was likely to do so, if he
were a guilty man; but if I had thought it so, then I should
not have used it.  There is a-reward offered.  I expect to get
a portion of it, if the prisoner is convicted. I have nothing yet;
I have never had a farthing from any one.  The property was
found behind the skirting-board before I was aware that any
revward was offered.
George Collier, a police constable of tlie C division, corroborated Pearce's testimony, as to the articles found concealed
behind the skirting board, and as to the finding of the split-ring
behind the leaden pipe. The prisoner continued in the pantry
two or three hours. While there, I asked himr if those were his
lordship's rings which Mr. Pearce had found.  HIe said they
were, and that his lordship had worn them yesterday. I asked
him where his lordship had placed them when he' went to bed,
and he said on the table in his bed-room.  I asked him if his
lordship had a gold split-ring. I-e said he had, and he used to
keep his seals upon it. I said,' It is a most shocking thing.'
He said,' It is; I am innocent of it; but it would not look so
bad against me, had not the property heen found in my pantry.'
I said it looked very suspicious. The prisoner said'I shall say
nothing till the last until I hear if the whole truth is told.''Ie
was then taken up stairs and searched, and from that time kept
in strict custody. On the next morning, the 9th, I searched
the scullery with Sergeant Shaw. I assisted to talke down the
plate-rack, and behind the pipe which runs along the wall close
to it I found the seal produced, with a coat of arms engraved
on it. I marked it and showed it to Shaw.  I searched another pipe in the scullery leading from the pantry. I found the
ring produced. It was bent as it is now as if by being pressed
behind the pipe. It is a seal ring. It could not be seen be



THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL. - 3.
hind the pipe. I took the plumber and the carpenter on Wednesdaty, May 13, and had the floor of the pantry taken up.
Under the second board which was removed, the plumber-took
up a handful of rubbish close by the scullery door, and in it
was found the sovereign produced. On the following morning
myself and Cronin went into the dining-room and saw Tedmlan.
In consequence of what Tedman said, I went up stairs with
Cronin, and in a portmanteau in the prisoner's bed-room I found
the two handkercliefs produced, one cotton and one silk, near
the top, they were marked S. C.. the silk, and B. C. the cottor,
and likewise the shirt front.  The handkerchiefs are markoed
with blood-spots; there are several spots. I was in the room
when that portmanteau was examined previously.  I attended
to the examination, but I cannot swear I noticed either of those
things. I did not find anywhere a shirt to which the front
found will match.
Mlr. Phillips-Why did not you, or the rest of the police, lock
up and seal that box and room, to prevent any one having access
to them?
Witness-I had nothing to do with that. I had not charge
of the.house. No one could miss finding the handkerchiefs,
nor could any, I should imagine, miss finding the shirt-front, on
searching the box, if they had been tle-re. I do not think the
prisoner was in the house when I made tile search.
F. Shaw, police  sergeant, corroborated  Collins' testimony.
Cross-examined by MIr. Phillips-I had assisted in searching
the prisoner's room on Friday afternoon, AMay.8. The search
was not a careless one; we missed no article; we saw there was
nothing more in the box.  No one else was in the room; I did
not search the box after the eighth
[The portmanteau was produced, and a.ppeared to be an ordinary travelling portmanteau.]
Patl Cronin, a police constable 168 C, corroborated Pearce's
testimony as to the finding of the property concealed in the
pantry, and added, I went to the house again on Tuesday,
May 12; the search was continued. I searched the floor of the
scullery on that occasion, with a brick vault adjoining. I passed
my fingers along the bricks to discover if any of them  were
loose, as it was very dark:.  Iy fingers struck against sornething
which I pulled out with great difficulty, and which proved to




332               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
be part ot a watch-key;  with the pipe broke off. On the, following day, in the upper yard, I raised two or three stones with an
iron chisel. I went round the yard, and saw a leaden sink, cased
in wood. It had been a fixture in the butler's pantry, just over
where Mr. Pearce found the property.  I examined round the
edge of the sink, and in one place it appeared to me that the
lead had been taken up, and put down again very carefully. I
turned the front up) with the iron chisel, and looked inside,
and saw a watch, which I now produce. There was no glass on
it when I found it.
James Ellis, examined by Mr. Bodkin —I am  at present in
the service of the Earl of Mansfield.  I was in the service of
the late Lord W. Russell two years and eight months.  I left
him in April, of this year. The prisoner entered his lordship's
service two days before I left. The witness identified most of
the articles produced as the property of Lord IW. Russell, and
then said, —I have seen a small locket in Lord Russell's possession, but I am not positive it is the one produced, as I have never
had an opportunity of examining it. His lordship always had
a lighted rushlight in his room. I never knew his lordship to
be in the habit of reading in bed. IIe was always very careful
on the subject of fire. I saw the prisoner two or three times after Lord William Russell's return from Richmond.  On one occasion prisoner asked me if I had any recollection of a locket.
I told him I had. IHe then said his lordship had lost the locket
while out of town at Richmond. I then said I wondered how it
could be lost, as his lordship always carried it in his note-case,
The prisoner also said he could not account for its being lost,
unless it had fallen from  his lordship's clothes while he was
brushing them. I-Ie said his lordship had written, or was about
to write, to 1Mr. Ellis, at the Hotel, Pichmond, about it. I
rather think this. conversation took place a day or two after the
return from Richmond, as I saw the prisoner then, and did not
see him afterwards, until the Monday before the murder.  I
delivered over the plate to the prisoner, and gave him a list of
it. The plate box is produced; the list of the plate is inside it.
I examined the contents of the box by my list before it was
removed from the house, and before I deposited the list in it,
there were missing four table spoons, four large forks, four dessert spoons, and two tea-spoons.
MIr., Comyn, a p-lwnbroker, here produced certain silver arti



THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL.    333
cles, wlhich were shown to the witness, who said-They have
the crest'of Lord Russell upon them, and I believe them to have
beer. his.
Mlr. Richard. Harrison-I am  clerk to Messrs. Hoare, the
bankers in Fleet street. The Baroness de Clifford has an account
tilere, and Mr. Wing, a solicitor, draws in her name.  On the
twenty fifth of April I paid a check for two hundred pounds,
and. one of the notes I gave in exchange for that check was the
ter pound note now produced.
Mz- Thomas Wing corroborated the witness as far as his
shTare in the transaction was concerned, and the Baroness de
(i.ff'erd prcved that she had passed the note to'the hands of
Lord Russell, to be dispensed in charity.
LadkSarah Bayley-I am related by marriage to the late
Lord W. Russell and reside at Hampton Court Palace. The
deceased used to come to see me when he visited Richmond,
and or cne occasion I recollect something occurring about a
loclket  Ills lordship had a very great regard for the locket.
The iocket produced is the'one I refer to.
William Winter-I am a plumber. I was employed in Lord
William's house, and I saw a sovereign found under the board.
ing.
Mr. Charles Ellis-I keep the Castle Hotel, Richmond. I
remember Lord William coming to the hotel on the fifteenth of
April.  On the twenty-fifth an application was mnade to me by
his lordship respecting a locket he had lost, but no locket was
fcund.
Charles Albert Klafilenberger, a watch-maker, identified the
watch as belonging to his lordship.
Charlotte Piolane —My husband's name is Louis. He is a
Frenchman, and resides in Leicester square. I am an Englishwoman. I know the prisoner, and have known him for four
years. IIe came to take a place in our hotel as waiter. We
used to call him " Jean" in the hotel. He stayed with us as a
a servant for a month or five weeks, and I did not see him again
until abj)ut six weeks ago, when he came to see us on a Sunday
evening. He only stayed a short time, and then went away.
I did not know him  at first, and he said,-" You recollect
me-I am Jean, who used to live with you some time ago."
He then told me that he was in a situation, but did not say with
whom. He came again the same evening with a paper parcel




334               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
in his hand, and asked me if I would take care of it till the
Tuesday following, and he would com6.for it. I consented,
and received charge of the parcel, and he went away. I locked
up the parcel in a closet, not at the time having the least idea
what it contained. It was tied and sealed. I have never seen
the prisoner since until to-dayi I heard a publi(c report of the
murder of Lord William  Russell. The parcel had been left
long before that. I took out the parcel yesterday-morling in
consequence of an account I read in a FFrench newspaper;
and I selt for a gentleman nuamed Carbolier, and Mr. Cumming, a fiiend of olurs, and who is also an attorney. The
parcel was never touched or opened until yesterday morning.
Mr. Cunmming here produced the parcel.
It contained fourteen spoons, two pair of blue stockings, a
pair of golden ear-trumpets, and a jacket. The jacket appeared;
to be wrapped round the other articles so as to prevent them
from being discovered by the feel. So tow was also placed to
prevent the plate from rattling.
The witness was cross-examined, with a view to show that
her hlouse was a common gaining-house, but there appeared no
ground for the iIsinuationl. On re-examination, she said, there
is no pretence whatever for saying that our house is a gaminghouse. I may, like other women, hlave conversed with my
husband about the news of the day, and forgot it directly. I
had no idea that Jean was the same person as Frarnois Courvoisier.
Louis Gardie-I was present when the p)arcel was brought
to the hotel, and confirmed Madame Piolaine's account of the
occurrence.
-M[r. Richlard Cumming, examined by Mr. Chambers-I am a
solicitor, and carrying on business in the Old Jewry. In consequence of a communication I received, I yesterday went to
JI. Pioltline's, in Leicester place, and a brown 1npl.er parcel was
produced, and I was consulted as to the propriety of opening
it, and it was ultinmately  opened, and I olbserved  the
crest, and proceeded to Ridgeway's, the book-sellers, where
I ascertained that the crest was t~at of the 13edford family
and  I immediately  proceeded~ to  Mlarlborough  pbliceoffice, and hlad an interview with the clerk and tle inag:
istrates, and in consequence of what transpired, I immn ediately




THE MURDER. OF LORD WILLIAM-  RUSSELL.    335
proceeded to the Old Bailey in a cab and sent in a note to the
solicitors for the prosecution, withl whom I had an interview;
and I subsequently, having placed my initials upon the parcel,
handed it over to an officer. The paper produced is the covering of the articles.
lir.. I Molteno- I am a bookseller. Lord William Russell
was one of nmy customers. On the twenty-seventh of April I
sent a g&azed print to his lordship, the subject of which was the
vision of Ezekiel. The parcel, to the best of my belief, hlad a
ticket on it similar to that on the paper now  produced, in
which the plate was wrapped up.
Joseplh Vincent, a Frenchman, proved that he was also
present when the parcel was opened in the hotel in Leicester
place.
[The witness was examined through the medium of an interpreter.]
HIenry Carr, examined by Mr. Bodkin-I am an acquaintance of the prisoner, and served with him in the family of Mr.
Fector. I have seen the prisoner wear a jacket something similar to this, while in the service of Mr. Fector.
Eleanor Banks-I have washed somle things for the prisoner.
The socks produced bear the prisoner's mark, but I cannot say
that I ever wa-bed them. These socks are marked on the heel.
The prisoler's stockings are generally marked at top. Some
of the iprisoner's socks and stockings were marked "C. B."
Thomas Davis —I was formerly in the serv Ke of Mr. Webster, an optician. I-le served Lord William Russell with such
a pair of ear instruments as those produced in June, 1836.
James Eilis, his lordship's late butler, re-called-Lord William Russell had such a pair while I was living with him.
Sarah Mancell, re called-I saw them in the house about a
fortnight before the murder. I have seen such a jacket in the
prisoner's possession.
This was the case for the prosecution.
The court then, at twenty minutes to eight, adjourned until
the next day, Saturday.
THIRD DAY-SATURDAY.'
Tlhe court resumed at ten o'clock in the morning. It was not
so crowded as it had been on the preceding days, but there




336                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
were several noblemen, and a large number of ladies, on the
belch and on the seats that had been, placed in front of it.
The jury Ilaving been re-sworn, Mr. Charles Phillips commenced his address on behalf of the prisoner.
[The speech delivered by him was at the time the subject of
severe criticism at the hands of several of the newspapers, and
alarge portion of the British community. All are aware of
the great responsibility which rests upon the shonlders of an
advocate, in defending an individual who is put before a jury
of twelve men to be tried for his life.  The case of Courvoisier
created intense excitement throughout England. Mr. Phillips,
assisted by Mr. Clarkson, was retained for the defence a short
time before the trial.  Theground for the criticisms on the
speech'arose from  the  fact of the  powerful argument
which Mr. Phillips used to shield his client from  the consequences of his terrible act, while at the time the leartLed gentleman was well aware, from a previous confession, of the guilt
of Courvoisier. This confession was made to both counsel by
the prisoner, after eight witnesses had been examined for the
prosecution. Up to that time everything appeared to bear towards the acquittal of Courvoisier.  But a new and im;lportant
piece of testimnoty had been hunted up —tlat )f Mrs. Piolaine,
the wife of a Frenchman, who kel:,t a place of entertainment,
called L' ]Iote'l de D]icppc, in Leicester place, Leicester square,
London.  This lady testified that a few days previous to the
murder, Courvoisier brougllt to her house for safe keeping a
quantity of plate, which was proved to be the property of Lord
William Russell. Hearing of this testimony, and before Mrs.
Piolaine was called, the prisoner confessed his guilt to Messrs.
Phillips and Clarkson. As the scene is described, both gentlemen were astounded. Mr. Phillips remarked to the prisoner,
"Of course, then, you are g6ing to plead'guilty?''" "' No,
sir," said Courvoisier, "I expect you to defend me to the utmost."  This conversation took place-in court. The prisoner's
counsel held a consultation, and Mr. Phillips afterwards remarked, in speaking of his feelings at the tilne, that " my position at this moment was, I believe, without a parallel in the
annals of the profession. I at once came to the resolution of
abandoning the case, and so I told my colleague."  Through
the influence of Mr. Clarkson, Mr. Phillips was induced to remain in the case, and he subsequently condemned himself for




THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL.    337
this hastily formed resolution, saying-" I am satisfied that my
origbinal impression was erroneous. I had no rihrlJt to throw up
my brief and turn traitor to the wretch-wretch though he
was-who had confided in me." Both gentlemen then concluded
to ask the opinion of Mr. Baron Parke, who sat during the trial
beside Chief-Justice Tindall, but who did not talke any part
in the legal proceedings. Mr. Phillips said that Baron Parke
" requested to know distinctly whletlher the prisoner insisted on
my defending him, and on hearincg that he did, said I was
bound to do,o, and to use all faii' arguments arising on the
evidence!" This was the opinion of a great lawyer and sound
philosopher, and MIr. Phillips went on with his defence. The
newspapers of thle day were divided as to the exact words used
in several sentences of Mr. Phillips' speech in defence of the
piisoner. Some asserted that lie Inmade use of the asseveration
-" -O lny soul, I believe Courvisier innocent of the crilme'while others gave a different version, but conveying the same
inference. It was also asserted that Mr. Phillips lmade an
effort in his speeeh to shift the responsibility of the murder
on the shoulders of the female servants of the family.
We give the speech in full, however, obtained from  an authoritative source, which may be relied upon as correct. It is
one of Mr. Phillips' most brilliant effrts, and added new
laurels, in a forensic sense' to that gentleman's high'reputation.
The exact trlth of Mr. Phillips' position was that the bigoted
English press were bitterly opposed to his advancement among
theri as a member of the bar. Mr. Pllillips was an Irishman,
and at the Irish bar obtained a prominence second to none in
the profession. He was a brilliant orator, an elegant writer,
and an accomplished gentleman. When he came to England
the press of that country let loose its foul attacks lpon. himrn,
simply because lie was an Irisllhman. Even if he was a little
over zealous in defending Courvoisier, the responsibility of the
advocate should have been a sufficient cloak to defend him
from all blarne. Lord Broiugham, in his celebrated speech in
the case of Queen Caroline, thus lays down the duty of the
advocate: —" An advocate, by the sacred duty which he owes
his client, knows, in the discharge of that office, but one person
in the world,-THAT CLIENT AND NON1E OTHER. To save that
client by all expedient mreans-to protect that client at all




338                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
hazar ls and costs-to all. others, and among others t:,o ]himselris, the ]highest and most unquestionled of his duties; and lie
m.ust itot regard the nlarm —tlle suffering —tlhe torment-tlle
destrnction —which} he may brin,.u(r.pon any other. Nay, separating even the duties of a patriot from those of an advocate, and
cast tlhem, if need be, to the wrld, lie nmust go on, reckless of
the consequences, if his fate it shold uihalp.i),iy be to involve
1.is country in confusion for his client's protection!"
Altllough the foregoing broad propositions as to the duties
of tlleadvocate, were advanced by Lord BrognhJam, yet the
E,!nlish press to, k nlo noticer whatever of it. But when Mr1. Pliillips took thle ground w-lhich ]le did inl deffending Con rvisier, this
press was the very first to condemn and.  malign hlim.  In the
discussion which somle years after took place in the lewspapers regarding. Mr. l'lil iips' linle of defence, we are, Hlowever,
laplpy to be able.to. state that tle gentleman was.entirely exonerated in all blame in the matter.
Howev.er, Mr. Jamles T. Bratdy, of the New York bar, las:
disagreed with Lord Broughaln in the prolositions which that
learned geitleman laid down asto the duties of the advocate.
Mr. Braly., in defending John Y. Beall (wx-ho was lung on
Governor's Island for being a gunerila ald spy), makes use -of
the following language-" I' wish to savy to this court, on tlle
lionor of a gentleman, that'I never htLve supposed that Lord
Broghllam's definition of the duties or right of an advocate
was c,)rrect.  I have never entertained the idea that it proceeds, in thle view of refined society, or in the view  of any
instructed conscience, futrther than this-that an advocate may
faiily presentllonorably, whatever any matn Who is accused
would have a right -in truth to say for himself, and no mlore."].
THE SPEECH.
Mri. Phillips spoke as- follows:-.May it:please you, my lord and gentlemen of the jury-I suppose I need scarcely say that, after twenty years of no inconsid.
erable experience in the criminal courts of this country, I have
seldom risen:to address a jury unlder more painful feelings; or
with greater anxiety than - upon thbe present occasionm  There
are circumstances in this case, even as they were! developed.before the magistrates, to cause me much anxiety, and, if such be




THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL.            339
tile fact, how much more must that anxiety be increased by the
production of additional evidence before you, and that, too,
without notice, by which the life of the unhappy man at the
bar nay libe placed in the greatest peril, and the most fearlful
jeopardy. Not that I, for one moment, admit that Suchl Ciman
fairly be the result of the production of such evidenlce on the
part of the prosecutibn.  Considering, however, all the circumstances, I cannot but feel the situation in which I am  placed,
but I amlnconsoled by the recollection that' I shall have your
sympathy, and that 1 shall also lhave the symlpathy of my associates.; Of this I am fuilly assured, for we are all eilbarked in
a cormmon cause-we incur a commlnon responsibility.  You are
to reeoAlect that the life of a fellow-creature is intrusted to our
keeping, and so surely as that life is unjustly taken aw'ry,As 
surely will we have to answer' fr it to the God of all.  Gentlemen, I have not merely to de:l vith tlhe facts of this case, as
they appear in evidence, but I have to contend against tlhe
odious prejudices wlhiclh have been' engendered by the peculiar
circumstances by whic!h this case is surrounded.  These things,
therefore, fill me with apprehension.  The crilne of which the
prisoner stands accused-the rank of the deceased-the ftct
that'this case has not been dealt with in the ordinary way in
which justice is usually tadniiistered in this country; but.that
inquiries on the subject hiave been stimulated by a government
reward-as if the grave knew  any aristocracy!-these things
fill nme with the greatest apprehension.  And when I look
around me, and see the numbers that fill this court, I think I
feel the throb of indignation which all feel at the horrible crime
that has beern committed; and then,wlwhen I turn to the prisoner
who stands charged with this heinous offence, I see a stranger
-who is far froln his native' land-distant firom  all those who
were his associates in early life-without a frield to assist himl
in hiS distress- a poor, isolated, helpless foreigner. These things
are surely calculated to oppress me.  But still I have one anchor of htope to cling to; I can rely on the ilndependence of a
British jury-I can rely on your strict integrit?-. I can rely on
your sense of justice —I can rely on your generous feelings, upon
those feelings which, no doubt, induced" the prisoner at- the
bar to decline all treil.,{ interference in the jli.-box, and to
trust his life to tlhe watchful care of an English jury.  I have,




340               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
therefore, no fear in such a tribunal:I lknow that the whole
case will be fillly, fairly, and impartially considered.
Having made these observations, I shall now  proceed to
consider the most unparalleled circumstances of this painful
case. Gentlemen, I have much to claim  from  your lkindness
and attention; I have much to claim from you, not for, myself
-fobrin a case like this I should be unworthy of the gown I
wear, if I did not throw  aside all personal considerations.
But, gentlemen, I have much to claim from you on the part of
the accused. 1 confess that there has nothing been urged by
the learned counsel for the prosecution that I did not expect
— nothing that I did not long ago anticipate. It is. no new.notion of mine, as the learned judges who preside here to day
are. well aware, that the consequence of an act of parliament
which is now ill operation, is to make a court of cfiminal julrisdiction an arena of angry passions, and to place the lite. of a
fellow-creature in peril or safety, just in proportion to the skill
and talent of the advocate.  I should be glad. to know from
those learned judges, if it is not startling to theni to find that
suh a thought slihould enter into the head of any advocate, as
that of anticipating the detfeile of a. prisoner,.to comment upon
that defence, and then to answer it; and also to. find appeals
made to the passions, where everything should be stated with
callmness and with reason  I?  Gentlemen, think in what a situation is the accused!'The man is a foreigner,' says Mr.
Adolpilus,'and foreigners always murder and rob.' In the
naame of the human race, I protest against such assertions, and
such lahigage.  All who don't belong to this country, are
foreigners to it; and I say, therefore, that it is a libel against
mankind to utter such language in reference to the peolle of
all othler nations. When I heard the exl.ressions, my conntenance sunk; I was afraid to look up, because I might see some
of those foreigners who crowd the Court;\{for fear I shonld see
any of thos.e individuals, and the disgust whlich mllst have
necessarily imanifested itself when they heard such slander on
the part of an English advocate. A Let us maintain the character of England, high and noble as it stahds; but do not'let
us seek to uphold it at the expense and the. sacrifice of other
nations. Mr. Adolphus is a historian, and history ou ht to
have taught him that such an assertion was not grounded in
truth-history ought to have taught him that the people. of




THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL.    341
Courvoisier's country could not be denominated murderers
and robbers. If there be a country in the world free from
crime, it is that country. Switzerland, of which he is a native.
Cast your eyes back, and I ask if you can see or point out a
single instance of a murder in Switzerland?'They murder,'
lie says,'and they rob when they murder.' A man arguing
in this case should not have endeavored to instil into your
minds such poison, as that because a mall is a foreigner he is
also a murderer. But, gentlemen, I have had' the experience
of some days of the way in which you attend to the case, and
the various circumstances connected with it; and I do believe,
from my heart and soul, that the attempt to excite prejudice
in your mind, on any such grounds, will be entirely frustrated.
Let me beseech of you to suppose such a case as this-that you:
were in a criminal court of justice in Paris, or in Madrid, and
that you saw an unhappy fellow countryman on trial for lhis
life, and let me imagine that you saw an advocate rise, whose
bounden duty it was to state facts calmly and dispassionately
-let me suppose that in so doing, he had said,' Gentlemen,
this man comles from the country of Patch, and of Greenacre,
and of Thurtell, and Englishmen murder and rob, without even
a motive.' Gentlemen, let me suppose that all this had occurred; with what indignation would your hearts have been
filled, to hear such a foul calumnny upon your native country?
And such, gentlemen, is what the Swiss have to endure here,
when Mr. Adolphus tells a sworn jury, that they always
murder and rob, without a motive.
But, gentlemen,.let us pass fidm this monstrous assertion to
another, which is equally unfair in the. present case, and infinitely tnore absurd.  [e etold us, forsooth, that it was not necessa ry for a man to have a motive f,'r the commission of crime.
Hbe knows thiat if he were to ransack his ingenuity of thirty or
forty years' experience, lie could not point out a single case
where a man had ominitted either murder or robbery without
a motive, and if he ransacked it to the quick, he could impute
no motive to Courvoisier for committing the murder, -for
which he is now arraigined. But Mr. Ad,lphus was addressing mien of reasoning minds, and who well knew that the most
trifling action of hlfman life had its origin in some motive or
other. He did not attribute anXy motive to Courvoisier; but
said that the crime of murder might be committed without




343                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
one. Wllat motive had the man who the other day fired at
the Queen? I( trust it will appear that he is a maniac; I believe he is so; for.would any man in liis senses, for mere notoriety, have committed sullch a.n act?' I believe that lie would
not.'Would a,iy manin his senses raise lis hand, containing
a de:;tructive instrument, against the life of the Queen of England — against youth, innocence, and beauty, and talent —
against thle life of her who not only sits on the throneo'of state,
but in thle hearts of all her people? Could it have been done
by any man who was not mhad, or on thle very verge of Iiiadness.? Gentlemen, in this circumstance Mr. Adolphlns has found
a very bad illustration.  I krow that tlhere are motives for the
commission of crime.  I could not be so long a member of the
prfcssionr to whicl  I hllae the lhonor tobelong, without being
convinced of it. lThere are motives ofjcal'ousy which instigate
men to the clnmission'of murder. -there are motives of hatred
and revelge. which induce men to perpetrate that dreadfiul
cn.ime —and tlhere are nmotives of avarice -and plunder which
may instigate men to other' deeds of wickedness; but as to
Courvoisier, what motive had lie of hatred?  None whlatever.
I-le was livi(ng with'a Inmlster wlho loved  irn, and whloin he
loved —was C',nfidentially in lhis service, and accompanied hliltl
inl hisjotirrneeys —saw him t,, his repose at night, and was entrulsted \vitli his keys.'Was there in'-snch a case any eaase
for hlatredl? Was there' any iltive of jealousy? None. Iihere
Colild l;ot exist tile Irltive of revenge, where lie had been
treated witli so much'kindness: and as to the motive of plunder —-gond Gd I! whly should he commit  tile murder fromn motives o(f avarice? I c'an fancy the'midnight depredator getting
into,, the hlouse, and being alarmed in his prlogress at the fear
of discvery.  I can fncy tlhat a manl for hlis own individn'aI.safety m ay have committed the terrible act, to screen llimself
from  cletectionz.Was it necessary for Courvoisier to break
lnto tie hlouse of which he was an inmate, and when he had
hol i ly an oppllrtunity of comninitting plunddr. j Was it necessary fbr hliitl to hlave murdered his master in order to conceal
his plunlider?  He had daily an opportunity of escaping with
that plunder, six or eight hours before it (,ould have been
missed, and to hilve carried it, perhaps, at hunldred miles,'with
every certainty of effectingl an! escape.  Nay, more, if lie was
the man whio committed the offence, do you think that he was




THE MURDER 00F LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL.           343
in his senses?'Do you think'he could be in his senses, and remain in that house a'ter the commission of the deed, with thle
certainty of being detected.?  Whlen a man commits the most
trifling crirne:in the street-setting aside thle crime of mnurder
-wlhat does instinct prompt, nay, conpel hllin to do"? Wliy, to
fly-to fly while there is'a cwhance for hiln.  He may- not be
detected —lle may outstrip hlis pursuers-and, possibly, lie may
not be pursued at all; but here is a man cornmrlitting, according to them, a crime of the -most serious nature, affecting hlis
life, and yet h-e remains in the.-house alter having committed
it; and having done so without a motive, he did -not seek to
avail hirnself of the opportunity to escap)e.
~Gentlenmen, this is a case in which you have no clear proof
befo,.e you —it is, as yoil have been truly to'ld, a,case of ci'rcagmstances alone; and it will be myqainful dllty, perlhaps, to
trouble yol,  with somne remai.ks upon the evidenlce which has
been adduced against the prisoner.-  Btut, gentlemen, it is nlot
my case which is before you; in it is illvolved a question. of
the gravest nature known'to our law; and ~ thank God, that
not upon my fleeting breath dei.eltdls t.lie irrevocable dootn of
a fellow-creature! But, gentlelmeln, it will be your dtlty not
to let any circumstance, however trifling, escle —not to think
any hour tediously employed when in,'es:ligting.the circmtimstances connected with the case, in su;.i' a maninler as to lead
you' to a just conclusion.' Gentleinlen, I have now demonstrated
to you that which,the cOiunsel for the prosecution has been
obliged to admit -lnaely, that hle cnld as.ign no"  motive for
the cormllission of the act. Therefore, the first thing you will
have to consider is, whether or not the prisoler had ony motive folr perpetrating such a deed.  A motive has been sonu.'ht
after, but not fo:nlld, and conisequently counsel have been.
driven to the declaration that there is no occasion for a motive for the commission of crime. Now, gentlemlnen, I believe
that I have no occasion to entreat that, wllichli has' thronglhollt
-these proceedings been voluntarily vouchsafed, namely, the
kinid attention of the learned judges; and I say that it will be
laid down as a doctrine. not to be controverted by those learned
judges, that it will b)e the. duty of the prosecution to bring
homne, without a single, doubt, the cornmission'of the crime to
the prisoner at the bar. It is not for:ne to do so. Such is the.task they have undertaken-they must prove that the murder




344               BEMARKABLE TRIALS.
has been. committed by that man, and unless they do so, he
must be acquitted   I am not called upon to rend asunder the
dark inantle of the night, and throw light upon this deed of
darkness. They are bound to show to you, not by argument
such as has been used, but to prove to you, to downright palpable demonstration, that Courvoisier has been guilty of its
perpetlration. Let us see how they seek to do so.
In the first place, Mr. Adolphus called a woman named
Sarall Mancell. But let me do myself justice, and others justice, by now stating, that in the whole course of the narrative
with which I must trouble you, I must beg that you will not
suppose that I a:m in the least decree seeking to impute crime
to any of the witnesses. God forbid that any breath of mine
should send persons depending on the public for their subsistence into the world with a tainted character; such is not necessary for the support of my case —the God above alone knows
who is guilty of the terrible act of which the prisoner stands
accused. Now, tle first imllputation cast upon this man was
the agitation he displayed. Let us try this by the test of our
own' hearts and consciences. Here he is, having seen his master, perhaps in a state of repose, and in the morning lie is
alarmed by the housemaid, who was up before hlim, withli an
outcry of"' robbery," and some dark, mysterious suggestions
of murder having been committed.  "Let us go," said she,'"and see where my lord is."  Gentlemen, I must confess that
that expression struck me as very extraordinary. If she had
said, " Let us go anrd tell my lord that the house is plundered,"
it would have appeared different.  But why should  she
suspect that anything had happened to his lordship? She saw
no stains of bllo d about the liouse, and, why, tlerefore should
she suspect that his lordship was not safe  Courvoisier and
all the other inlnates of the house were safe, and why should
she have suspected that her master had been injured? Courvoisier did as he was desired. He was the first person to
enter the bed-room, and he very naturally proceeded to open
the shutters; tile housemrnaid sees the spot of blood on the pillow, and runs out screaming. Was not agitation displayed by
the woman, rather than the prisoner?  Mr. Adolphus llas
said that he will allow me to use every deposition, and that
he will not insist on the right of reply. I trust the learned
judges will look carefully into the depositions that were taken,




THE MURDER OF LO1RD WILLIAM RUSSELL.    345
1Wefore tihe coroner-that they will consider it their duty to ascertain if what the different witnesses sworejwhen they were
examined before the coroneris the same as what they swore
when they were examined before this court. I think it necessary and proper, in the discharge of my duty to the lPrisoner,
to throw out this suggestion. I asked, it will be remembered,
the witness Mancell whether she saw a spot of blood on the
pillow, and if that was the first thing ~he saw. She replied she
did. Bef'ore the coroner, she said that the first thing she saw
was his lordship lying murdered- in his bed. I will, however,
pass that by, and come now to what took place afterwards.
The windows were thrown open, and daylight was let in upon
thle dreadful spectacle. Was it' to be expected that any man
would rermain unmoved at the dreadful exhibition that then
presented itself? An aged nobleman, one who was universally
respected and beloved, was found lying on his bed with
his throat cut, weltering il his blood; and because the prisoner was  agitated  at the  awfil sight, Mr. Adolphus
wished that to be taken as a proof of his guilt. What, I should
like to know, would Mr. Adolphus have inferred from it, if
the prisoner's nerves had remained unshakenl? what would have
been thought of the prisoner, if, on seeing the state of his master, he had remained firm, cool, collected, undisturbed  WThy,
that a man who could so adt was capable  of contemplating or
even committing the dreadful deed that had just been perpetrated. It, however, would be a gross libel on human nature
to suppose that any man could look on such a scene unmoved.
But Mr. Adolphus talksof the prisoner's agitation beirng a proof
of his guilt; let me remind him that, the female servants, his
own witnesses, were in tile same state of agitation,-ind I think
the better of them for it, for I Ilold that in such a case, agitation,
so far fi'om being a proof of guilt, is a proof of innocence. ---
haplpenled accidentally to be passing through the park at the
timrre when the late outrageous attack was made upon oulr gracious Queen. I wish Mr. Adolphus — who affects to consider
agitation as a proof of guilt-had been there at that moment,
and lhad watched the conlutenances of the bystanders; he would
have seen that men of the stoutest hearts were completely
appalled by the event-that their limbs trembled-that they
were agitated and dlsmrlayed; and if agitation is to be taken as
a proof of guilt, I should say that there was not a man in the




3 46                REMARKABLE TTIALS.
park at that moment.who might not lhav.e been convicted of
an atteml)t to nriurde r the Queen.  I say:that no man could
lookl0 upon sucll an appfal-ing scene as that )which presented itself wheli tle shutters of his ordshlip's bed-roo:a were thrown
open., without beingr agitated.  But -tlen it is said tile prisoner.did not rellder any assistance.  Gentlemen, the fact is not so;
that assertion has been disproved by tile witnesses for -the
prosecul tio(,l.  It was proved that tle pisoner, as soon as lis
agitation had in somlle degree subsided, offered all the assistanee ill his power.  But couldlle be expected to assist at a
moment when!his 1nerv.es were unstruing by the dreadfll siglht
before hlirnm?-Conld lie properly be called upon to assist on
the instarnt?  But as soon as lie recovered himself. fro:n thle
slhock whlicth lie hlad sustained, what did he do?' Wly,  that
which was most natural for him.or any other mllan to do. under
~suchl cilrchlstalnces~ lie sat down for th.e purpose of.writing
a letter to the son of lis' deceased nm:ister, in order to apprise
the representative of the family of the dreadful deed that had
been perpetrated, and wllle lhe was so engaged thle housemanid
came up to'hin, and imade use of this extraordinary exlpre3sion,-' Why, what the dev'l are you. doing there?.' Well,
what did thle prisoner do the moment after he had written tle
letter? Why, lie ran out of tile house and gave it to a mllail
he met in the'street, with a request that lie would convey it
to AMr. Russell's' house immediatel.r The ho.lsernaid, *on witnessinrg what he did, said, whylv do yo  send such a man as
that with the letter: as if it was of a,,y,consequence by wllom
the letter was conveyed; l,ut wliatever the unfortunate prisoner did, be was thwarted in by somebody.'   The housemtaid
suggested that lie should have mounted a horse and rode off
to SLf. Russell, with thle melanch,ly intelligence.
And here let me ask] you whethler, if the'prisoner bad been
guilty of the crilme alleged against-hinm, he would -not have
gladly availed himself -of the means of escape which was suoggested to lintll.r the housemaid? Would be not have mounlted
a horse, and, under the pretence of going to the llouse of Mr.
Russell, soon got beyond tlle'reatch of all pursuit?  Is,iot that
the coulrse, which, in all llhunl:in probability, a guilt'y man.vould have adopted. But to return to thle statement that the
prisoner did not render assistance. It was clear that lie could
render none to the unfortunate deceased, and those who coin




THE,3URD.ER OF LORD WILLIAM  RUSSEL L. 
plnained thit lte did- nothling would perlhaps point out what hIIJ
could have done, uTlder the cirlcumstances.  IInstead, however,
of escaping from the house, as he inight,have dene, lie relllain1ed
in it; lhe answered every questioil that was put to hlim1 by the
i:umerous policemen, and others by wlomi he was s; rroanllded.
Of the conduct of the. police on th]e OCcLsiol, I s!all have to say
a word orl txwo presently.  A multiplicity of qu stions were put
to tle priisoler, every one of which lie answered' truly, and
without hesitation or delay; his replies to each question were
prompt, and, whlat is of more ihnportance, they were also true.
I implore the jury not to fo,rret that.  In assertilg. tllhat the
prisoner's replies were true, I do no'  tate that whllich callnoT
and, in fact, has not been proved.  Froin the lnoment wh}en lie
was first confironted with the police, lie was subjected to the
strictest scrutiny.  Attempts were mIade to intimidate himn.
The inost tortluring iterrQgatories were put to himn,  and one
of the police went so far mis to say to him,'Dare ycu look me
in the face.' Under the circ'lnstances in which the unfortunate prisoner was pllaced, every answer lie aavre to the numerons questions that were put to liln increa!sed and aggravated
the suspicion agailnst hlirn  in thle minds of tho e by wlioin
those questions were put; and because lie told the tlruth, hla
was thle mnore suspected.  At tliis time lie was no niore in custo~ly than any of the otlfer servants in the house; but at
length a locket was found, and thle prisoner was questioned respecting it, and what was Iis reply?  Whlly, that the locket
was his own.  His assertion was disbelieved by thle iolice,
and Ellis was called in, whlo very fairly said he could not
swear to thle locket as lhaving been thle property of lis lordship.
WVell, after.all the suspicion that had been so unjustly excited
agnainst the prisonter, what was the fact? Why, his lordshilp's
locket was founid, and the account given by thle prlisoner was
proved to be true.  But I implore you, gentlemen of tile jury,
to consider what would have been the consequence had his
l!ordship's locket not been found. Would it not have been said
that the one found on the prisoner was his lordship's property?
And the fict was, that lie was nodt taken, into custod(y until the
finding of a locket in his possesslon, which afterwards tlrned
out to be his own.  Gentlemen, there is another circunmstance
to which I w-ish to call your attention, by way of proving tllhat
the replies given to the qluestions put to him were true.




348                REMARKABLE'TRIALS.
You will recollect that there was an impression of a seal
-found upon him, and that was alleged as a proof of his guilt.
He was questioned respecting it, and whlat did he say? Why
this-it was given to me by Mr. Russell.  Send for hlim, and
he will prove that what I have stated is true.  But -no, Mr.
Russell was not sent for.  The solicitor for the prosecutionl
did not think proper to mnake this inquiry, even in a c:lse whlere
the life of a fellow-creature was at stake. Mr. Wing, however,
the solicitor to the Russell family, much to his honor, did lnake
the inquiry suggested by the prisoner, and found that his statemerit was true.  Tliat was the second instance in which what
the prisonler said was alleged to be false, yet afterwards proved
to be true.  When asked to identify tlhe property, he did so;
not tardily, but promptly; and I contend that that circumstance
is anothler proof of lis innocence.  It was insinuated that
thougll a book was found oil a table by his lordship's bedside,
the candle was not near enougll to enable Iiimii to read it. Tllat
has been disproved.  The prisoner's trunk was searched, and
because notlling suspicious was fobnd in it, Mr. Adolplhus said
that was l!ot surprising,, as the prisoner would have been a fool
to have Ilaced there any evidence of Iiis guilt.  Thle trnnkwas
searched on thle 6th, and nothing tound.  It was searched
again on the 8tll, and wliy? It was searched again on the
13th, wlien lie sent his uncle for a cliange of linen fiom  that
very trunk.  Would lie lhave done so, if tllere hlad been anything suspicious in that trunk? When the trunk llad been
once searchled, it ouglht to llave been locked and placed in
safe custody, but instead of that it was left open, ill a rooml to
which every one in thle liouse had access; wlelre any villain,
tempted by the offer of 4501. reAard, might put anytlling lihe
pleased in it, to be af:erwards produlced as evidence  of the
prisoner's guilt.  Tlie whole galng of police had access to that
trunk. Did he not know tlhat inl tlhat very trunk some evidence
of murder would be found? Tllat evidence of glilt hrlich was
found on the 13tll of May, was not there on the -6th.'I unfolded the slirts,' says Inspector Tediiian,' on the 6th, and
could see nothing;' but when 1Mr. Policemlan Collier subsequently exa;liiued the sllilrts,'I unfolded themn,' says lie,' and
out drpllped tlhe pair of bloody gloves' Who put thetn tllere?
My learned friend (MAlr. Adolplllus) asks, who mnurIdered lhis
lordship?.  I ask wl:)o put the bloody gloves and tile bloody




THE M3URDER OF LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL.        349
handlkerclliefs in the box of the prisoner?  I say openly and
fearlessly, that those articles were placed there by some of the
police, for reasons best known to tllernselves.  Now, I beg you
to call to mind what Inspector Tedinan said. I-e told us that
he minutely examined the trunk on the 6th of May, and not-.withstanding, all his vigilance, neither gloves nor handkerchiefs
were founrd. The contents of the trunk were actually ransacked
over and over to find evidence against the prlisoner, and yet Mr.
Collier, the constable, tells us that he found the two bloody
handkerchiefs on the very top of the trunk; and, adds Mr. Collier, in order to make the assurance doubly sure, and to add to
the weight of guilt which attached to the unhappy man at the
bar-Mr. Collier says, that the handkerchiefs must belong to the
unfortunate prisoner, because his initials were on them.  But
the trunk had been examined, not only once, but three times
before Mr. Collier says he found the gloves and handkerchiefs
in it.  Butwhy, I would ask, was it necessary to repeat the
searches so often?  Why should those policemen go to the prisoner's trunk days after the unfortunate man was sent to a gloomy
-dungeon, at least three miles distant, for the purpose of doing
what?-of producing evidence against him which was not existing before.  I will suppose for a moment that the gloves
might have been overlooked on the 6th and' 12th of May, but
what can be said about the handkerchiefs, and how did it happen that they should be placed on the very top of the very
articles which had been previously turned over and ransacked
again and again?  Now I ask this question —who put these
things in the tfrunk, and for what purpose were they placed
there?  The prisoner Courvoisier conld not have placed them
there, even if we could for a moment suppose that he would
have risked his neck by so doing. But why, after the first
search of the trunk —why, when Inspector Tedrnan had
searched it so minutely, was it not corded and sealed up to prevent the liossibility of any villain tampering with it in order to
fasten guilt upon the wretched -man at the bar?  I ask, is this
fair play towards a man placed in this awful position?  I say
that the finding of these things in the trunk of the prisoner is a
circumstance of deep suspicion, not against him, but against,
others who have sought to make him the victim of their foul
machinations.  It is clear, beyond a doubt, that the handkerchiefs were placed in the trunk after Courvoisier was sent to his




350               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
dreary dungeon, and 1 suppose that no man will charge me with
going too far when I say -that a strong suspicion exists against
some one respecting it.
But I leave this part of the subject, and shall turn now to the
conduct'of Mr. Inspector Pearce-that merciful and exemplar
officer who would not, of course, attempt to intimidate a prisoner once within his fangs, or extort a confession from him by
threats.. Now let us see what was the conduct of this man.
After finding, the things in the pantry, lie takes them up to the
pa-rlor, and places' themn before the prisoner's face. Now, if the
prisoner had been guilty' of this crime-had he one particle of
guilt upon-his conscience-would. he not have shrunk back;a
fear and horror on beholding these silent proofs, dug from  the
earth as it were on purpose to confront him, and call to his
mind the dreadful crime he had committed? But what was
the conduct of the prisoner a   Did he shrink back in conscious
guilt and betray his agitation a No: his mainner exhibited
proofs that he was an innocent man. But what was the conduct of Mr. Pearce \when he produced the tliings?'?Look
here, sir,' said lhe to the prisoner,'dare you now look me in
the face?' Merciful God, gentlemen, was this an expression
to be used by an officer of justice to tin unfortunate mnan likeo
tile pris,)ner?  But he did look Mr.: Pearce in the face, and
told him,'I am  innoceilt, my conscience is clear. I know
nothling of these things.'  My learned friend (Mr. Clarkson)
asked Pearce,'Upoll your oattl, sir, did you not use that expression to the prisoner for the purpose of extorting a confessi,,n firodn him?'' 011 no,' replies Mr. Pearce,'I merely-asked
the question in pur ualnce of my duty as an officer;' and after
fencing with  my learned friend for sone tihne, then he at
length declares positively that he did iot use the words for
the purpose of intimidating the prisoner and inducing him  to
confess..Now I will ask,-Is tlhere any perCson in this court
who believed him when he said so? Aind let it nlot be forgotten, gentlemen of the jury, that Mr. Malne, the commlnissioner,
was present at the time, and knew that Mr. Pearce was about
to show the articles to the: prisoner. I will not say that Mir.
Mayne, the commissioner, directed Pearce to act as lie hlas
done, but it is very strarnge that Mr. MNayne, who, wve are told,
is a Inagristrate, should have permitted such condu:t in one of
his (fficers.  Mr. iHobler was also in the house at -the time,




THE MURDER: OF' LORD WILLIAM'RUSSELL.    351'
but notwithstanding the presence both of that gentleman'and
IMr. Mlaylne this fellow Pearce was suffered by them to go upstairs to the prisoner and exhibit the things before: him; and JT
would ask you now, as mlen of sense and men of the worlddo you not believe tlhat the olbject of Pearce was; to get,a con-,
fession from the prisonler' Would it not have been more prudent and' more just to tlle prisoner to have merely placed these
things before hlim, and tlen said,' These things were fonlld in
youlr pantry, have you  inything to say aboult them n' But no,
that conurse would nlot suit: M1r. Pearce, who was anxions,:oif
cou'se in pursu;.nce of his duty merely, to get a confession
fromn the prisoner.'Was it-right of Mr. Mayne, the Cirnmissioner- of Police, and a mtagistrate to boot, to send thlis inquisitoridl ruffianl Pe-lrce. to a l)'ivate-r)orn with tile prisoner, in,
order to browbeat and frigllten himl into ani admnission of' his
guilt.? Of course, Mr. l'earce was not-at all- influenced by thle
reward of 4501. But Itorgot: —lie had the candoui' to adiljit
that he expected to receive sorne- portion of the reward.  Yes,
geltlemen of the. july, tlle mlloncy is to be divided upon the
coffin of my unfortunate client, sliould you pronounce himn
guilty, and Mr. Inspector Pearce and- the rest of the police
myrmnidoons will, wlhen they receiv-e their. respecive shares,
w'iite the receipt in- tle blood of tie prisoner. I. had hoped,
gentlemen of the jury, that the days of blood-mnoney had
passed away. I thougiht tlie atrlocious systerll lhad been put ai
end to by the praisewortliy interference of an alderman of the:
city of Londoon; but I atn afraid that. I am mistaken, and that
tlh6 system is  about to be revived again.  You will bear in
Ilindi that thle rewad of 4501. is not to be paid unless tlhe priso.ier is con'victed,  wllen the money will be silared. upoin hiis
coffin. It-is1certadiinly very strange that we should' not lhave
heur'd,a-wordlil of reward being offered for the discovery of the
murlder of Mr. Tetlpl-ellnan. until, a. nobleman lost his life by
tihe hland of ian assussin.
Now, gentlemene, allow me to ask you,;do you remember Mir.
Baldwin.; thle constable, and how he gave his: evidence?  When
1 asked. hirn- about'the reward; do you not re'collect the manner
in-l.whieh he- attempted to baffle my question. Poor man! lhe
did:, not inowhow  to read,- and  he never lieard' anything about~a -reward.- a-nd yet that miscreant bloodhound was obliged: afterwards -to admit to me, that he had heard  the placard offering.




352              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
the reward read at the station-house over and over again.
Now, I will tell the Commissioners of Police, and I tell the
Government from this place-I tell them with the freedom and
independence of a man who has nothing either to fear or expect
from them —that they are acting upon a bad and vicious system in offering rewards to their men for hunting out the blood
of their fellow-creatures. I shall not mention what the consequences were of offering a reward for the discovery of the murderer of the deceased Mr. T'empleman, because I do not wish
by any observations of mine to prejudice a case which is likely
to be tried here shortly. There is another expression of the
prisoner which is supposed to operate to his prejudice.  But,
to my mind, there is not anything more natural than the expression to which I am going to refer; and I would remind the
jury that they are not to canvass too strictly the expressions
of a foreigner. The expression to which I allude is this-' It
would not go so hard against me if those things were not found
in my pantry.' Then came the question, whlo hid them there?
-But is not the fact of these things being found in the pantry
a proof that they were not put there by the prisoner?  What!
he who, if the statement made be correct, was up all night
roaming about the house-who had bed-rooms and passages,
and other places, to conceal those things in —could he be supposed to be the person to go and place these things in his own
pantry?  Could he have selected this place in particular in
order that he might the more securely place a rope about -his
own neck? Who hid the handkerchiefs? Who hid the gloves? 
The pantry, you will recollect, was open to every one, and was
it not the very place where every one wishing to place the
crime at the prisoner's door would hide the things which were
found there? These matters may be trifling in their nature,
and they may appear to my mind of greater importance than
they do to yours; but of this I am sure, that they ought to be
considered with the greatest care by you, and that they will be
I have not the smallest doubt.
Another expression of the prisoner's has been caught at with
a view to his prejudice-they can find no trace of actions, and
so they are obliged to fly to words. The prisoner is reported
to have said-' If I had as much money as my master, I would
not remain any longer in this country.'  This expression he
used in the presence of the two female servants; so they want




THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM  RUSSELL            353
to say that the prisoner premeditated robbery and murder, and
that he did so in the presence of two witnesses, and those wit.
nesses his fellow-servants. I will do the witnesses the justice
to admit that the prisoner did make use of these words.  But
unless you can believe him to be insane, you cannot suppose
that in using them he was influenced by any improper or base
motive. But these were perfectly consistent with the views and
feelings of an innocent man. You, gentlemen, are fond of the
-land that gave you birth.  But supposing you were far from
that land, toiling with industry and zeal for your existence, but
away from all those whom you loved most dear, and anxiously
desiring to return home to the land th'at you loved, the friends
of your youth, and the companions of your childhood-what
more natural for you than to exclaim, if you saw a rich man
passing,' I wish I had that man's money, and I would not remain longer in this country!' And recollect who the prisoner
is! lie is not only a foreigner but a Switzer, who love their
native land with an intensity amounting to enthusiasm! Although the land is barren, and its mountains rugged and bare,
still, not all the enchantments of creation, not all the splendour
of scenery which may adorn and decorate the face of nature in
other countries, can wean a Swiss from  the love and affection
which he bears Ihis native land, or destroy that desire which
burns within him. again to behold it upon the first opportunity
that presents itself.
"Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms,
And dear that hill that lifts him to the storms,:And as a child by scaring sounds oppress'd,
Clings close and closer to its mother's breast,
So the rude whirlwind and the torrent's roar
But bind him to his native mountains more."
So it was with the prisoner; and it was this feeling that no
doubt prompted the expression which the prosecutors in this
case caught at with:so much avidity.  And this circumstance
has been alluded to as confirmatory of the prisoner's guiltnamely, the possession of a five pound note, which originally
belonged to the late Lord Russell. Why, surely the prisoner
must have known that, if he came improperly by that note, it
could be traced to be his master's, and that in such an event it
would be highly prejudicial to him. But he kept this 51. in his
pocket, and he fairly accounts for its possession. The prisoner
23




3"54              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
was also asked if tile late Lord W. Russell was in the habit of
keeping money about him, and he answered that he knew lle
had a 101. and a 51. note in his possession. Now surely, if the
prisoner was guilty of the crime imputed to him, he was, by
making.this statement, fixing the guilt upon himself in the mnost
marked manner.  But was it at all likely that, if the prisoner
were really guilty, he would have made this statement?  But
is there no evidence of contrivance on the part of other persons,
A with the view of affecting the character of the prisoner. What!
were valuable things left behind, and a woman's thimble,
worth eighteenpence, sto'en! The gold watch was left, behind
-the plate and spoons wbre neglected, but the servant's eighteenpenny thimble was amongst the articles which were to be
carefully carried away. They were asked to find the prisoner
guilty of the crime imputed to him upon circumstantial evidence.
Are there, thlen, no circumnstances against other parties iin connection with this case? You are to recollect that, if you find
this nman guilty, you doom him to death upon mere circumstantial evidence.
I stiall be able to show you by-and-bye, that you can, without putting your own souls to any hazard, find him  guilty of
tile offence by which he will be liable to punishmrient little
short of that to which he would be consigned if he were found
guilty of the dreadful crime of murder, and this you may do
without lhazarding your own salvation. Look at the way in
which the prosecution is supported. It suits those who have
come forward against the prisoner to imnpute criminality to
every cirlculstance connected with hill; and tlhus it was that
the housemaid talked of the ale which the prisoner gave her
to drink on the night the murder was committed. She said,' After drinking the ale I became drowsy, and a sleepy sensation caine over me."  Now, what was the inference that waIs
evidently intended to be drawn firom this statement?' Why,
that the prisoner had drugged the ale. Do you not believe
that this was the object which she had in. view in giving this
tes:imony; and yet she says upon her oath that she liad no intention of suggesting that the ale was drugged. Now, could
they believe this assertion? This was what was said before
the police-magistrate, but the point was afterwards given up.
I think I can point to the individual who advised that this
evidence.should not be relied upon. I think I can put my fin21




THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM  RUSSELL.    355
ger upon him. Yes, this gentleman pointed out the absurdity
of relying on evidence of this kind, f(or, no doubt, he said,
" Don't you see that, if you make this a part of the case, tle
counsel on the opposite side will start up and ask yon, if tile
prisoner did not hinmself partake of this very ale?"  Yes, the
prisoner, who had such a mighty work before litii as was imputed to llim, did drink of the same ale which had caused
drowsiness in the housemaid; and this fact liavinrg been mtade
known to the gentleman to whom he lhad adverted, he at once,
no doui t, observed upon the absurdity- of resting any part
of the prosecution upon the assertion that lher drowsiness was
intended to be caused by the ale, which was equally partaken
of by all parties. So much, then, for the statement that the
housemaid became sleepy or drowsy firomn that cause. Tlien:again, it was asunmed, because of the stain of blood upon the
white gloves. that therefore tllc prisoner had be(n guilty of
mnurder? What! was it usual tor a man to colmmit the trime
of murder in white gloves. Then, again, a part of a slhirt M as
discovered in the prisoner's trunk, and this circumstance is
fixed upon as operating to his prejudice. What! a man commit
murder, and because spots of blood miglht appear upon a part of
his shirt, he was so to econormise liis linen that lie would throw
one portion of it away, and keep another, and then, in order
that he might give every celance against hliiliself, he was to
place the reserved part in hlis own trunk, where it was sure to
be found by any person looking over it?  Why, the thing was
absurd. And then let it be recollected, that tile part preserved
was the breast of the shirt-that part most likely to hlave a
stain upon it, if it were stained at all.
It was said that no person could get into the premises in
Norfo k street without the police seeing them.  But ale you
satisfied of this?  Is their vigilance so remarkable?  Are. the
late cireurnstances which have transpired in this town proof of
the vigilance of the police?  And are you. nl)on the facts
stated in reference to the gloves and to this shirt front, to imlpute to the'prisoner the crime of murderS  Was any blood
observed upon his person? Where were the stains under the
finger nails, which, like the spdt on Lady Macbeth, no water
could wash out?  And then, gentlemlen, you are to recollect
that all these discoveries are made on the fourteenth of May,
eight or nine days after the commission of the murder, and




356               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
-when the prisoner was away from the premises where his
trunks were deposited, and while he was confined within the
walls of a prison. There is a matter which I wish here to draw
your attention to, and that is the relative situation of the female
servant's room  to that in which Colrvoisier slept.'I wish,
gentlemen, that you had seen the house, but I must admit
the witnesses have pretty fairly described it to you. Now what
I am going to say is this —Why have n6t the prosecutors
placed before you, in the model on the table, that part of the
house in which the servants slept? What was the reason that
the exact situation of these rooms was not presented to you?
There was only a thin lath-and-plaster wall between the room
of the female servants and that in which Conrvoisier slept.
It appeared by the evidence that the female servants leard
the prisoner going to bed-at least they -heard him chain the
door. I beg also to draw your attention to the circumstance
that the housemaid swears, lwhen she got up the cook was
asleep, whereas the cook'swears she was awake. Was it not
extraordinary that during the whole of the night not a breath
was heard by either of these witnesses from Courvoisier's room,
which surely must have been the case, if he had been up and
engaged in the commission of the.crime with which he is
charged?
I have now gone through all that part -of the case which was
blought against the prisoner before the mnagistrates, and which
my learned friend and myself were prepared to meet on the
first day. I now come to that part of the ease of which I think
we have a right to comlplain. 1 allude to tile evidence which
was adduced ag.ninst the prisoner for the first time yesterday.
Is it not most extraordinlary that, after this case has been before
the public for such a leigth of time — fter it has been fre.
quently brought under the consideration of the police magistlrate, that, for the first time on'-Thursday last, we heard of the
additional evidence which was adduced yesterday  I complain
that we were not made acquainted with the name of the party
who was to give this evidence, in time to enable us to make
inquiries relative to her character. But let us examine the evidence given by this Mrs. Plolaine, and if it should be found
that she is not worthy of credit, then all the corroboration
which she may have received will go fornothing. Well-where:does this witness live? In a hotel in Leicester place —a foreign




THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL.    357
hotel in Leicester place-where a billiard-table is kept. The
jury were probably aware of what sort solt of places these
foreign hotels in Leicester place are. Then here was this Mrs.
Piolaine-who heard of Lord William  Ltussell's murder-who
had hler husband always near her-but who never once thinks
of looking into the parcel left her, as she says, by the prisoner,
until the day previous to that on which she is made a witness.
Genellemen, on this part of the case let us examin'e a little more.
Both my learned friend and myself have been taken quite
aback, and well we may. It was not sprung on us until the
end of the first night of this investigation, and was it not an
odd time for such a discovery to have been made? They kept
it to themselves all night, and then sprung upon us in the morning, when every moment of ours was engaged with the other
part of the proceedings. A French paper, forsooth, was translated to the lady, and I beg the particular attention of your
lordships and the jury to this circumstance:-Courvoisier was
never known in that house by the name of Courvoisier —he was
known by the name of" John," and how therefore could a
French paper hlave directed Mrs. Piolaine to him?  There is
no proof that she had heard he was in the service of Lord Williamn Russell; and it is mighty odd, therefore, that at the
eleventh hour this should have been found out behind our
backs, and that still the proof has been left thus imperfect.
This most important part of the case depends on the testimony
of one woman. Except through her they don't trace it to Courvoisier. She says it was Courvoisier who brought the parcel a
week or a fortnight befor'e the nmurder; she remembered so
little about the man that she. did nlot know him; and she says
that in a day or two after the trial i)egan, she opened the parcel
in the presence of some half-dozen of persons, who signed a sort
of round-robin, as an inventory of what it contained. This is
all very well, but how has it been proved that is was Courlvoisier who brought it hel 2 They told you that'they could identify the clothes whiclh the parcel contained, and they produced
-the housemlaid, and the man Ellis, neither of whom could
swear that the jacket belonged to Courvoisier. But they also
produced his washerwoman, whose testimony was to this effect
-" Upon trmy oath, no sock of Courvoisier's that I ever washed
— and I,have washed many-was ever marked in the heel as
this is; his are marked on the top, and the letter upon them is




358                REMRIRKABLE- TRIALS.
not in the way-evert if tile place was the same-in wlich' he
marked tlhemn.  Ile did not mark them  with a C, as t]his is
marked, but witll the letters B C."  Why, this is disproof, if
anything, of thle fact which they wished to establish.  Now, if
even the stolen property had been traced to Courvoisier, is it
conclusive that he hbad comnmitted the murder?  Gentlemen,
tlhat is a question upon wlhich the learned judge on the bench
will give you his,umost valuable opiijon. It may be conclelsive of
the rohlber.v, and of tile theft the prisoner may heleaftel be con
victed, and transported for thle term of lhis natural life to one of
our.penal colonies.  But gentlemlen, the fact of tle mnurder has
not been proved against thie prisoner, and it is not ulpon suspicionl or upon any moral doubt, that a mnan is to be found guilty
of suchl a crillle.  He is lial)le to a terrible penalty if he should
be fund guilty of having comlnitted tle robbery; but better,
far better, will it be if of that ct'ime only lie is guilty, than that
lie sllouild be guilty of the foul crime of murder, which, for thle
sake of his eternal soul, I hl,,pt  he is not.  In suc)h a case it
would be better, lfar better, for him to be allowed to atone for
tlhe del, in tfle solitude whlicli he must necessarily undergo,
under suclh Cirl'Clumstances, than you shiould send hin, on thell
dawn (,fl is nanllhiood, to an ignonminious deatli.  I say tlht
the p)'o,,f acdduced is not conclusive of the murderl, thoulgh  it
mavy be of dishlonesty on tie part of the prisoner, with which
latter crime lie d,,es nIot at present stand cllarged.
And lnow, gentlemen, having travelled tllrough this case of
mystery llnd darlkness, my anxious and paint'ul task is ended.
But, gentlemen, youlrs is about to colnmlnece, and I can oily
say, mnay Almirlhty God guide you to a just conclusion! The
issues oft life and death are in your hands.  To you it gives to
consign that minn once more to the enjoyments of existence aid
tle dignity of freedom, or to send hiln to -n ignonlinious death,
and to brantdl pon his grave tile awful epitlhet of a murderer.
Gentlemeni, mi,)e  has been a painful and  an  awful task;
but  still  more  awful is the  responsibility  attached  to
tlme decision upon the general facts or circumstances of the
cmse.- To violate. thle living tem!iple which the Lord hath made
— to q iench thle lire within a mnuan's breast, is anr awful and a
terrile responsibility, and the decision of " Guilty," once pronounctd, let nme remindl you, is irrevocable.  Speak not that
word lightly-speak it not on suspicion, however strong —upon




THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL.    359
moral conviction, however apparently well-grounded —upon b.ference —upon doubt —or upn anything but the broad, clear,
irresistible noonday conviction of the truth of what is alleged.
I speak to you thus irl no hostile feeling: I speak to you as
a br,)ther and a fellt.w Cllristian. I thus remind you of your
awfll responsibility.  I tell you that, it you condemn that man
lightly, or upon mere suspicion consign him  to an ignominous
death, the recollection of tile deed will never die within you.
If you should pronounce your verdict without a deep and irresistible conviction of his guilt, your crime will be present to you
during the rest of your lives —it will pursue you with remorse,
like a shadow, in your crowded walks- it will render your deathbed one of horror-and, taking tl-e form of that man's spirit, it
will condemn and sink you before the judgment-seat of your
God! So, beware, I say, beware what you do!
The effect this speech had on the jury was to make them hesitate on their verdict for a full hour and a half; and considering
that the confession of the culpiit had set at rest all question of
his guilt, it is painful to reflect how the permission to prisoners to address juries by counsel may be made the means of
violating the stern demands of justice.
The inlfluence of the learned gentleman's address was very
visible on almost every person -in the court; it was less visible
upon the prisoner, perhaps, than up n others. He stood at
the bar with great firmlnless, and his cheek did not appear to.
be in'the least degree blanched.
Several witnesses were then called for the defence, wiho testified to the prisoner's good character.
This having closed the evidence, the court adjourned for a
quarter of an hour, and on tile learned judges resuming- their
seats, Lord Chief-Justice Tindal proce eded to sulm up the evidence, which he did at great le:ngth. Tile jury'retired at twenty
minutes after 4, and at half past 6 returned a verdict of OuIrTY.
After the lapse of a minute, the Lord Ciief-Justice T yndal,
having put on the black cap, said:' Francois Beniamin Courvoisier, you hlave been found guilty, by an intelligent, p)atient,
and impartial jury, of tile crime of wilful murder.  Tllat crime
has been established against you, not, indeed, by the testimony
of eye-witnesses as to the fact, but by a chain of circumstances




360                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
no less unerring, which have left no doubt of your- guilt in the
minds of the jiary and all those who heard the trial. It is ordained by Divine authority that the murderer shall not escape
justice; and this ordination has been exemplified in your case,
in the course of this trial, by the disclosure of evidence which
has brought the facts to bear against you in a conclusive manner. Tile murder, although committed in the dark and silent
hour of night, has nevertheless been brought clearly to lighlt by
Divine interposition.  You felt no compassion for your helpless victim, whose infirmities ought to have found a protector
in you, who was his servant; but you felt no regard for the tie
that should bind a servant to his master, you felt no regard for
that sacred duty; but, in the dead hour of night, you cruelly
murdered an aged, amiable, and unoffending nobleman, and
destroyed for a period the domestic happiness and comfort of
the noble family with which he was allied, by a shock almost
unparralled in the history  of crime.  Tlhe precise motive
which induced you to commit this guilty act can only be
known to your own conscience; and it only remains for ltue to
recommend you most earnestly to employ the short time you
have to live, in prayer and repentance, and endeavoring to
make your peace Fwith that Alniighty Being whose law you
have broken, and before whom you must shortly appear.":
The le,rned judge, in delivering the sentence, was so affected that his voice at times was scarcely andible. The prisoner
heard his fate pronounced without evincing  the slightest
emotion.
PREVIOUS TO THE EXECUTION -THE CONDEMNED SERMON, ETC.
On Sunday, July 5th, 1840, PIev. Ir. Carver, the ordinary of
Newoate, preached what is called the condemned serltimnl in
the cllapel of Newgate. The sheriffs, in c-onsequence of the
innumerable applications made to theinm f;r admissionl to the
chapel, determined to open once more the gallery which had
been cl-sed since the execution of Fauntleroy, and to issue
cards. Althougih the service was not to colnmence till lilf
past 10 o'clock, the avenues to the -comrnon door of entrance
to thle prison, as well as to the door of the governor's hlolle,
were completely blocked up before 9 o'clock by those to whom




THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM  RUSSELL.   331I
thle governor had given the privilege. The arrangements
were, however, so judiciously made by the authorities, that not
the slightest inconvience was sustained by the numerous congregation.
Immediately before the service commenced, Courvoisier
entered the chapel attended by two of the turnkeys, and sat
on a bench before the pulpit. He appeared to be quite aware
of the situation in which he was placed, and never once raised
his eyes during the service. In tact, his looks denoted extreme
sorrow and contrition, and lie seemed to suffer great inward
agitation when the ordinary particularly alluded to the crime
fobr the perpetration of which he stood condemned. IIe was
as attentive as possible to the service, and held the Book of
Common Prayer with a steady hand.
The ordinary took his text from Job, chap. 34, ver. 21, 22:: For his eyes- are upon the ways of manl, and he seeth all his
goings. There is no darkness nor shadow of death where the
workers of iniquity may hide themselves."
The following are the passages which referred to the wretched criminal more especially. The preceding portions of the
sermon illustrated, from  the Old and New Testaments, the
omniscience of God:
How awfully true must the lesson and illustrations of our
text appear to one amongst us this morning, and how fearfullyand dreadfully appropriate the adaptation of its language.to
his special and almost unparalleled case! "The eyes of' the
Omniscient were indeed upon his ways, and he saw all his goings."  There was no darkness nor shadow of death v here lie
could hide him'self.
"Yes, and that special deed of darkness which has subjected
you, t;le midnight assassin of an aged, amiable, and unoffending master, to prison and to death, has yet, and in a few hours
too, to be judged th by Hiim'whose eye is upon your heart (as
well as upon your ways), and who sees all your thoughts as Iol
saw all your goings.
"In the solitude of your confinement, far more appropriate
for serious reflection on your part, and profitable ministration
on mine, than on this exaiting occasion, before a large and
public assembly —in tliat retired cell I have daily endeavored,
in simplicity and fidelity, as tile minister of God, to prepare
you to meet 11lm, urging the duty and necessity of penitence,




362               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
abiding, abje'ct, abundant sorrow, godly sorrow, for your dreadful sin, which ignomniniously closes your earthly career, and
ushers you to your eternal destiny. With other matters, in
which I have sought to be faithfuil and serviceable, for lly
owsn anld public scatisfactioi, I have.pressed upon you tile necessityT, as well as propriety of evincing the sincerity of your
repentance, and mraking some small compensatiol, and small
indeed it is, to outraged society, by a voluntary, ample(, and
explicit confession of all the circumstances connected with this
unprecedented deed of darkness. The enormous crime itself
has been by you tardily, though I trust penitentially acknowledged; but tile evasions, subterfuges, and inconsistencies,
which have appeared in your recorded verbal statements
on minor details, have very naturally induced the fear that
your'heart is not right in the sight of God.' You had almost
reached the very verge of a triumph that would have included
thle deepest sorrow to the guiltless, at almost the eleventh
hour.  So strong was the impression of your innocence, firom
your long-el-tablished character for mildness and probity, that
a ilortal stab was sabout to be inflicted upon the reputation of
your fellow domestics and other innocent persons. You reposed in quiescent security of' acquittal.  At the critical juncture, God, in the wonderful workings of his providence, by a
marvellous cliain of circumstantial evidence, with unerring certainty fixed upon you the guilt of murdering one whom every
tie of relig-ion and morality bound you to love, reverence, and
respect —yea, to peril your own life, if necessary, to save that
of your master from the assassin's blow. All who reflect upon
this wondrous event cannot but exclaim,' Verily this is the finger of God; verily there is a God that judgeth the earth.'
God has vindicated his attributes of omniscience, justice, and
mercy, and with an eloquent tongue speaks to you, and to all
who indulee in secret sin-'Be sure your sin will find you
out.' The Book before me, fioom which alone I derive authority to preach glad tidings of' a free and full salvation to lost
and perislling sinners, througll faith in the all-cleansirg blood
and righteousness of the Lamb of God, says indeed,'Blessed is
lie who-e transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered;' and
again,'Blessed is the man unto whom the Lord imputeth not
iniquity.' But it adds, and I cannot but press the important
context on your mind-' and in whose spirit there is no guile.'




THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM  RUSSELL             3  3
"In  that chlarity which believeth all things, hopeth all
things, I trust that your confessions (thoulgh I would they lia(l
been:nlore explicit and faithful from the first, and less marred
with at least alpparent incorngruities and inconsistencies) are
sincere and hlonest, that your professed rel)entance is heartfelt,
and that with the eye of faith you are looking on that blessed
Saviour vwhllom you lhave pierced.  If not, your blo-od, and tlle
blood of your aged, helpless, injured, and unoffendilng nmaster,
whom you hurried into the eternal world withiut a inotlenlt's
warning, be upon yourown head!- I have faithiillly and
affectionately warned you not to deceive jourself.  But if, as
I would yet believe and hope, you do feel the l)urden (,f your
sin, humbly confessing it, and keeping yourself hllumlle,; concealing no circumstance, however minute, in the llollid arld
loathsome detail of it, it becomes me, as a,iinister of truth as
it is in Jesus, as the ambassador of God, to announce exvenl to
you that there is a fountain opened for sin (all sinl) —olr uncleanness (all uncleanness)-and that though your sins be as
scarlet, they may be made whllite as snow; though red like
crimson, tlley may be as woo(l."
T!ie prisoner so,)n after ertered into conversation with
the gentlemen who manifested interest in his eternal welfare.
Being of a taciturn habit and contemplative turn of thlouglht,
he appeared more at his ease when left with no othier plerson
than the turnkeys, olle of whom was his constant colnpanion
by day and by niglht, and with whoml'he sometimes colversed,
always rationally, and sonletimnes cheerfully.  Froin  first to
last he devoted a good deal of his time to reading, for which
hle appears to have had a natllral predilection, and he was
amnply supplied, beyond the Bible and Common Prayer Book,
with publications calculated both to beguile his tedious hours,
and instruct his mind. During the days of his trial out' reporter conversed with several persons who had known him
ever since his arrival in Enlgland, and they all concurred in.
expressing their surprise that a person with a mind so constituted as his appeared to be, could on a sudden swerve from
the path of moral rectitude and becol-ne a murderer.
On the Saturday before the conderlaned sermon Courvoisier
passed a very restless night, and frequently Cave way to
paroxysms of grief and despair. His appetite hlad left hiln, and
le scarcely partook of anwy food. lie dwelt with uinch anguish




364              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
on the disgrace and dishonor he had brought on his family and
country.
Soon after he left the chapel he was visited in his cell by
the Swiss Consul, who handed to him a letter from his mother,
conveying her forgiveness, her blessing, and her farewell. He'
wrote with a steady hand a few lines in answer to the letter,
and received a promise from the Consul that it should be delivered.  The answer was an attempt to console the unhappy
parent for the misery and  disgrace which his crime had
brought upon his family.
lie wtls subsequently visited by a Sowiss clergyman who had
been fiequently to see him since his conviction.
The Sheriffs and others remained in prison with him  until
after eight o'clock in the evening, when they retired to their
homes, and left the unhappy object of their solicitude to
his meditations. The prisoner was spared one pang which
native culprits have to undergo, namnely, a separation or last
farewell firom those who are endeared by the ties of kin or consanguinity. We have heard many convicts similarly situated
declare that when that was over,' the bitterness of death was
past.' Courvoisier was far fiom being deficient-of filial affection, for he always alluded to his far distant relatives in terms
of ardent affection.
THE EXECUTION.
The following account of the execution is taken from a leading newspaper of that date:
At an early hour on Monday, July 6, the Rev. Mr. Carver
and other divines arrived at the gaol, and proceeded to the
room which was occupied by the prisoner during his confinement. Ite entered without reserve into conversation, and expressed his reliance on pardon and'mercy. Notwithstanding
that he appeared resigned to his fate, yet there was a quivering of the flesh —and no wonder, as natural instinct [reason
apart] has implanted in man a clinging to life. The Reverend
Ordinary prayed with him some time, and put several questions to him, as to. whlether he was fully penitent, and whether
he believed in the atondmerit of Jesus Christ. He replied in
the affirmative in whispers barely audible, accompanied by an
expression of countenance p)lainly indicating the deep anguish
of his soul. He wrung his hands, and, as far as the ropes




THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL.    365
With which they were bound would admit of, raised them up.
wards.
The Sheriffs, Under-Sheriffs, and other of the municipal authorities, &c., entered the prison by way of the Justice Hall
between seven and eight o'clock, and on visiting the convict he
made his grateful acknowledgments to them for the kind
attentions they had paid him during his confinement; indeed,
lie seemed grateful to every onie, and hlis steady conduct almost
banished from the minds of those who kept watch and ward
over him, that he was a convicted murderer.
At a quarter to eight o'clock a great numlber of reporters
were admitted to the Chapel-yard, contiguous to the room ill
which the convict was with his spiritual advisers, and with
whom he had partaken of the Sacrament. The Sheriffs entered
about the same tinme, attended by many of the Aldermen,
Lord Powerscourt and several other nobleimen, and numerous
gentlemen. Mr. Kean, the actor, was also present. His father,
the celebrated Edmund Kean, witnessed the execution of'Thistlewood, with a view, as he himself said, to his professional
studies.  The executioner having  pinioned his arms and
wrists, and divested his neck of his satin stock, to which
dreadful prelilninaries the culprit nubmitted' with his wonted
amenity of manner, repaired to the platform in readiness to
receive the prisoner. As the clock struck eight, the Sheriffs
proceeded to the condemned room, attended by their Under
Sheriffs and several persons of distinction,  Then followed the
Reverend Ordinary, and on his appearance in the yard the
prison bell commenced tolling, which was a signal to the
dense crowd outside the prison, and caused loud vociferations
of'hats off;' which could be distinctly heard in the prison
yard. The prisoner then made his appearance, walking with
a firm step; he looked downcast, but not despondingly. Immediately that he passed the wicket to the avenue of the prison, leading to the winding passage, there was a general rush
made by those present, whereby some of the Aldermen were
prevented from gaining admission: confusion ensued, and cries
of' Shame! shame!' were loudly uttered. The Reverend Ordinary at length commenced reading that portion of the burial
service beginning with' Man that is born of a woman bath but
a short time to live, and is full of misery: he cometh up like a
flower, and never continueth in one stay.'




a3c fi8          BREMARKABLE TRIALS.
Tlhe malefactor mounted the steps leading, to the scaffold
with a firln step, and took a circuitous gaze of tle vast crowd
who had assembled to witness his exit.  At this moment there
were considerable hootings, hissings, yells, and whistling  from
the crowd, and some very coarse expressions were uttered.
The executioner having placed the cap on the prisoner's t:(ad,
and the rope round his neck, the Ordinary proceeded to read a
further portion of the liturgy, and he speedily gave the signall,'
when the sustaining bolt of the platform was witlldrawn, and
after a few severe struggles, the wretched murderer ceased to
live, move, or have being.  HI-s hands were slighrlly convulsed
and hlis legs considerably bent and drawn upwards, until
pulled down by the executioner from below in order to shorten
his sufferings.
The crowd outside the prison was greater than was ever
known on any former occasion, and there were preserit a vast
num~ber of livery servants of noblemen, &c. As early as six
o'clock tlhere were as lmany present as generally assemble on
ordinary occasions, and before seven the spacious area was
completely filled, so tlhat it was iiiipossible to pass one way or
the otlier. Every window, as far as the eye could reaclh, htdl
its numerous occupants, and the roofs of some of the lonuses
were crowded.  Soon after the platform  fell, tlle assembled
multitude sought egress by the two principal entrances, bat
they were m\et by a rushing counter-crowd, which can -ed a
good deal of strngzling, and the loss of divers hats, slioes, &c.
9ne of the principal barriers gave way, but nothing serious
occurred  in  consequence; nor was there  any  accident,
excepting that of a well dressed woman falling froin a firstfloor.window upon tlle shoulders of the persons below, but
without any great damage or bodily harmbeing done to any
party.
Daring the hour the cllprit was suspended there Was a. continulal influx of new comers, so that the crowd lost but (ittle of
its density. Somie of the spectators whlo had hlired apartments
lhad occupied them fironl eleven o'cloclk on the previouls evening, and appeared to rhave been well supplied \with cigars  r and
potations.  There were several persons in a state of great exlhastiro  from hlaving stood for five hours pressc d against the
barriers, but retreat was impossible.
When the clock struck nine, the body was cut down and




THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL.    367
taken to tne dead-room, where some artists were in attendance
to take a cast preparatory to its interment, which took place in
the evening, in the usual burying-ground, within the walls of
the prison.
An immense crowd being anticipated, the Sheriffs and civic
authorities caused additional ranges of barriers to be placed in
thie area in front of the prison, so that extreme pressure mig!it
be avoided, and a recurrence of the catastrophe which occurred
at the execution of Holloway and Haggerty prevented-an
event the most tragical that ever occurred within the purlieus
of Newgate.
Even at an early period of the previous week, housekeepers
who reside in front of the prison were applied to with the view
of obtaining an eligible and cheap seat at one of the windows
of their respective houses.  Many asked extravagant pricesand, to use a Smitthfield term,'overstood their market;' nevertlieless, every window had its occupant, as had also the para1pets and roots of the dwellings.  In some houses the windows
and frames were altogethller removed, in order to give a view
to a greater number. We were informed that five pounds
were bidden for the attic story of the Lamb coffee-shop, and
we know to a certainty that a member of the press paid two
pounds for one window on the first floor, for the accommodation of his literary and anxious friends. At the George
public-house, to the south of the drop, Sir W. W. Wynn, Bart.,
had hired a room, which, with a party of fiiends, he occupied
previously to and during tile execution; and Lord Alfred Paget,
with several friends occupied a window in the adjoining house,
an undertaker's. It is with extreme regret that we noticed one
circumstance which derogates from the alleged sensitiveness of
the fair daughters of Eve. It is lamentable to behold the matrons and maidens, subjects of an amiable British Queen, mingling with tile crowd on such an occasion, because, to say the
least, it is' unfeminine' for such to gratify a morbid curiosity
by witnessing the last writhing struggles of a dying man!
THE CONFESSION OF COURVOISIER.
After the verdict had been returned, it was generally reported that the prisoner had made a full confession of his guilt;
whlich, on inquiry, was found to be strictly correct.




368             REMARKABLE TRIALS.
The confession was taken down in writing, and on the following day, Tuesday, June 22d, transmitted to the HIome Office.
It is as follows:" NEWGATE, June 22, 18S14
" On the Friday before the murder was committed, I began
two or three times not to like my place. I did not know what
to do; I thought, if I gave warning, none of my friends would
take notice of me again, and I thought by making it appear a
kind of robbery, he would discharge me; and on the Sacturday
before I took this plate to Leicester-place. I had a mind to rob
the house on Monday, and after I had forced the door down
stairs I thought it was not right, and went to bed-nothing
further happened on the Monday.  On Tuesday night, when
his lordship went to bed (he had been rather cross with me
about the carriage), he gave me two letters, one for the post,
and told me rather angrily, that le was obliged to write those
letters in consequence of my forgetting the carriage; this wvas
in the drawing-room, about 11 o'clock at night. I then went
down stairs into the kitchen, and stood reading a book for some
time. About 12 o'clock he rang the bell; I went up to him
and took the lamp out. After that I thought he had gone upstairs to his bed-room; and when he rang his bed-room  bell I
thought it was to warmn his bed, and I took the warming-pan
up with coals in it just as usual, and he began to grumble because I did not go up to see what he wanted instead of taking
up the warming-pan.  I told him he always used to ring the
bell for the warming-pan, and that it was for that purpose he
had rung; and he said that I ought always to go to answer the
bell first, to see what he wanted. He took off his clotles, and
I caine down stairs again with the warming-pan, and I waited
there until about twenty minutes past 12. He rang again for
me to warm his bed. lie told me rather crossly that I should
take more notice of what I was doing, and what he was telling
me, and pay him more attention.
"1 did not answer at all, as I was very cross.  I went down
stairs, and put everything in the state it was found in the morning. As I was in the dining-room with a light, he came down
stairs to the water-closet; he had his wax-light; I was in the
dining-room, but as he had his slippers on I did not hear
him come down. He opened the dining-room door, and saw me.
I could not escape his sight.  He was quite struck, and said,'What are you doing here?-you have no good intentions in
doing this; you must quit my service to-morrow morning, and
I shall acquaint your friends with it.'  I made him no answer.
Hte went to the water-closet, and I went out of the dining



rIIE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL         369
roorn down stars  I-Ie was about ten minutes in the water.
close', and I waited to see what he would do after he came out.
While he was in the waterecloset, I put some of the things to
rilghts again in the dining-rooln. When he left the water closet,
he went into the dinin-roomn where he staved about a minute
or two. I was on the corner of the stairs that goes fiom  the
dining room to the kitchen. I watched him up-stairs. I stopped
perlhaps an hour in the kitchen, not knowing what I should do
As I was coming up stairs from the kitchen, I thought it was
all up with me, my character was gone, and I thought it w:,s
the only way 1 could cover inmy faults by murdering him. This
was the first moment of any idea of the sort entering into nmy
head. I went into the dining-room, and took a knife from tile
side-board. I don't remember whether it was a carving-knift
or not. I then went up stairs. I opened his bed-room door and
heard him snoring in his sleep; there was a rushlight in his
room burning at this tilne. I went near the bed by the side
of the window, and then I murdered him; he just moved his
arm a little, he never spoke a word. I took a towel which was
on the back of the chair, and wiped my hands and the knife;
after that I took his key and opened the Russia leather box,
and put it in the state it was found in the morning, and I took
all the things that were found down stairs-the towel I put
over his face; I took a purse; I also took a 101. note from a
note-case, which I put in the purse, and put them in a basket
in the back scullery; the day after I thought it would be better to put it behind the skirting-board.   - had before I went
to IR chmond lost a shilling behind the skirting-board,, so I
thought that would be a good place to put it.
9" While at Richmond Lord William's locket dropped firom
his coat while I was brushing it. I peiked it up, and put it inll
my trousers pocket, but had not the least idea of taking it. I intended to have returned it to his Lordship while I dressed him
in the morning. I put my hand in my pocket at that time,
but found I had changed inmy trousers; this was on the morning
we left Richllmond for Camden-hill. I did not put tle trousers
on again while we were at Camden-nhill.  I did not recollect
the trousers being different, and thoughllt I had lost the locket.
I then thought it best to say nothing about it. On the Friday
morning I was looking at some of my old clothes; the policeman who had cut his chin was watching me, and in taking the
trousers out of the drawer in the pantry the locket fell out of
the pocket: it was wrapped up in a piece of brown paper; the
policeman opened the paper, aind looked at it and said,' What's
that?' I said to llim it was a locket; but in the position in
which I was, I didl not like to say that it was Lord William's
locket, as if I told the truth I should not be believed; the policeman then returned it to me, and I put it'in my trousers pocket.




370              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
The watch and seal were in my jacket pocket which I had on
until the Friday morning, and then I undid the ribbon, and
took the seal off; it was the day the sweeps were in the house,
which was either the Thursday or Friday; having the watch
in my pocket, the glass came out, I did not know what to do
with it, as the police were watching me, so I took the watch
from my pocket and put it in between the lining of my jacket,
and twisted the pocket until I smashed the glass; after that I
dropped some of the pieces about the dining-room, and at different times put the larlge pieces in my mouth, and afterwards,
hlaving broken them with ily teeth, spat theml in the fire-place.
The watch I had by me until Friday morning. I then burned
the ribbon, and put the watch under the lead in the sink. I
kept the seal in my pocket until they came into the diningroom to show me the ring they had found behind the skirtingboard. When I was called to go down to the pantry I let the
seal fall and put my foot upon it, and afterwards put it behind
the water pipe in the scullery.  Beresford and Cronin, the
two masons, were there at the time taking the drain up, but did
not see me do it. The watch, the seal, and the locket, together
with two sovereigns, I had about me until the Friday. and if
they had searched me they must have found them; but they
did not do so until Friday, after I was taken into custody in my
bed-room. The two sovereigns I afterwards (on the Friday,
when I-slipped the locket under the hearth-stone) also slipped
down near the wall under the flooring.  There is no truth in
saving I put anything in the ale or beer, for all that time I had
no idea of committing the deed. I had scarcely had any beer
ail the week, and the ale that I had drunk that night, together
with the wine, and some more I took after the cook went to
bed, affected me. The gloves were never placed in the shirt
by me or to my knowledge. When I left Mlr. Fector's, I gave
all my white gloves to the coachman. The handkerchiefs that
were found,in my portmanteau were never put there by me,
They were -in my drawer where I used to keep my dirty linen.
or in my bag with my dirty linen in the pantry.  If there is
blood upon:them, it must have been from my nose, as it sometimes bled. I know nothing whatever of the shirt-front. I
turned up the coat and shirt-sleeves of my right hand -when I
committed the murder. I did not use the pillow at all.
After I had committed the murder, I undressed and went to
bed as usual. I made the marks on the door on the outside,
none:of them from the inside, for the purpose of having it believed that thieves had broken in. I never made use of the
chisel or the fire-irons. I placed the things about the house to
give the appearance of robbery. It is not true that the bottom
bolt was never used to secure the door, it was bolted that night,
I took the jewellery after I had committed the deed.-All the




THE MURDER OF LORD WILLIAM RUSSELL.        371
marks on the door were made from the outside on the Mondayv
night, for I got out of the pantry-window and broke in at the
door, and while getting out of the pantry-window made a little
mark on the wall outside, near the water-pipe, which the witness Young saw, and mentioned in his evidence.  I did not
wash my hands or the knife in the bedit in his lordship's bedroom. Sarah Mancell knew nothing about it. Neither did the
cook, or any of the other servants. I am the only person who
is at all guilty.' FRANCOIS BENJAMIN COURVOISIER.
" 22nd June, 1840.
" Witnesses,
"Thomas Flower,
"William Wadham Cope."
The following is a verbatim copy of the confession made to
Sheriff Evans on the following day, as it was taken down on
paper by the sheriff:"After I had warmed his lordship's bed, I went down-stairs,
and waited about an hlour, during which time I placed the different articles as they were found by the police. I afterwards
went to the dining-room and took one of the knives from the
sideboard. I then entered his bed-room, and found him asleep.
I went to the side of the bed, and drew the knife across his
throat. He appeared to die instantly.' FRANOOIS BENJAMIN COURVOISIER."
"PRISON OF NEWGATE, June 23, 1840O
"This declaration was mn,de before me this twenty-third day
of June, 1840.
" WILLIAM  EVANS,
" Sheriff."
On the Saturday before his execution the prisoner wrote
another long confession, and delivered it to Mr Carver, the
Ordinary, and Mr. Baud, Minister of the French Protestant
chapel in Threadneedle street, who afterwards read it over to
him, and asked him if there was anything that he wished to
add to it, and he replied nothing whatever. The confession is
written in the French language, with a slight mixture of Swiss.
The man's discrepancy is in his denying his former statement,




372               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
that Lord Russell came down-stairs, and caught him in the act
of plundering the house.  lie said he first made this assertion,
thinking that the less the crime appeared premeditated, the less
obloquy would attach to him; but, on the solicitation of his
uncle, he had determined to tell the whole truth.
THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN BY
HER HUSBAIND.
FULL PARTICULARS OF THE TRAGEDY.-DOMESTIC DIFFICULTIES IN
THE FAMILY.-THE MURDER.-EXAMINATION OF THE ACCUSED AND
OF MADEMOISELLE DE LUIZY DESPORTES7 THE GOVERNESS,-ELOQUENT LETTERS, IMPRESSIONS AND DIARY OF THE DUCHESS.CAUSES ASSIGNED FOR THE DEED.-SUICIDE OF THE DUE. —EFFEC'TS OF THE CRIME ON THE PEOPLE OF FRANCE, &C.
No bloodier, or more inexcusable murder is recorded in the pages
of history than that of the Duchess of Praslin by her husband-the
Duke de Choiseul-Praslin. No event of its terrible character had
ever, perhaps, such sad results, or exercised such powerful influences. History has traced it as being one of the principal causes of
the French Revolution of 1848, even-the upsetting of the monarchy
itself, in consequence of the fact that the Praslin and Bourbon
family were related. Every vice of the time was traced to the
aristocracy. The people, but a few years before merging from a
revolution of blood and terror, looked upon the nobility as the
cause of all their troubles. They believed that the immoralities
and tyrannies of an idle nobility had hurled destruction upon their
country, and they now watched with suspicion every act of this
class which tended to recklessness or immorality.  The nation was
in this state when the Duke of Praslin murdered his loving wife.
That this lady loved him with an ardent attachment, there seems
to be no question. That she was a woman of the most excellent
accomplishme'nts, wartm1 disposition,- and possessed of all the virtues
which should adorn the wife and the mother, her eloquent letters




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.             373
must incontestibly establish. It is then no wonder that the assassination of such a woman sent a thrill of horror, not alone throughodt France, but throughout the whole civilized community, where
the details were published.
To the American reader the recital at this time must prove of
great interest. The governess in the Praslin family- Mademoiselle
Deluzy Desportes, at the time of the tragedy — left Paris
some time after the  murderm\ and is at present residing  in
the City of New York. We anhex her examination before the
French court, together with that of the Duke of Praslin.  We also
print a number of the eloquent letters of the Duchess. From  the
most authentic sources we have obtained the history of this tragedy, and we will now: proceed to relate the facts, as detailed shortly
after the occurrence.
TuE family of Choiseul-Praslin is of origin almost coeval
with the sovereign line of Bourbon itself. The old blood-royal
of France flows in its veins. Raynard Sieur de Choiseul, Count
de Langres, married, in 1182, Alix de Dreux, grand-daughter
of King Louis VI. Their descendants have been great for ages.
Charles de Choiseul, Marshal of France, died in 1 626, after having, in his country's service, commanded nine different armies,
assisted at forty-seven engagements, and received thirty-six
wounds. Stephen Francis de Choiseul, Duke of Choiseul and
of Amboise, who died in 1785, was successively ambassador at
Rome, at Vienna, Minister of Foreign Affairs, Minister of War,
and Minister of Marine. His influence for good or evil had
much to do with the destinies of France: for he it was who
first subjected Corsica, the land of Napoleon, to French dominion, and who counseled the assistance given by King Louis to
the colonies of America, when achieving their independence
under Washington. To this Duke de Choiseul the French navy
owes its rise into importance. The duke, who died in 1817,
wrote a celebrated, and, in its results, very effective, work on
the emancipation of Greece. This then was the house, upon
which its representative, Charles Laure Hugo Theobald, Duke
of Choiseul-PraSlin, was to cast a stain of the blackest dye for
ever. Despite of all antecedent glories, the name of Praslin
cannot be mentioned in future without bringing remembrance
of one of the mo-t wicked and cruel, the most heartless and
cowardly murders that bring additional disgrace to the annals
of crime.
But the story needs no comment. The simple facts, as gath



374               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
ered from the various pieces of evidence adduced, are terrible
and startling enough in themselves.  To begin the narrative
with the conjugal position of the duke. He was born in 1805,
and, in 1825, he married Fanny, daughter of the late Count
Frances Horace Sebastiani, a distinguished French general,
since a peer and Marshal of Fralnce, by his wife Frances Jane
de Coigny, sister of that Mdlle/ de Coigny who inspired the
unfortunate, poet, Andrew Clienier, (already of record in this
volume), her fellow prisoner in St. Lazarus, with his touching
elegy of" La Jeune Captive."'
The Duke and Duchess of Praslin had by this union three
sons (of whom Gaston Louis Phillipe, born the 7th August,
1834, is the present dukle), and six daughters.  At the period
when the dreadful tragedy happened, the two eldest of these
children, who were daughters, were inarried. The one next in
seniority, also a daughter, was in her eighteenth year.  The
youngest child, a bloy, was eight years old. Fanny, Duchess of
Praslin, was at this time in her forty-first year, some two years
younger than her husband. She was born in 1807, at Constantinople, during the embassy of General Horace Sebastiani, her
father, to the Ottoman Porte.
A short time after her birth, Mdlle. Fanny Sebastiani lost
her mother, whose in-urned heart, according to custom, was
transported to Olmetta, in Corsica, the home of the Sebastiani
family: the motherless'child was brought up by her aunt.
When her marriage was arranged, Baron Pasquier, since a Duke
and Chancellor of France, was the Duke of Praslin's first witness at the signing of the matrimonial contract; lihe afterwards
sat as judge upon the murder. The husband inherited the
honors of his house in 1841, on the death of the Duke of Praslin, his father, formerly Chamberlain to the Empress Josephine,
and colonel of the National Guard, in 1814. 7By this succession
he became chief of the third branch of the ducal house of Choiseul; and he was a made a member of the Chamlber of Peers
on the 6th of April, 1847.
From the time of the death of the old dulke his father, he and
his duchess and family lived at their Clhateau of Vaux-Praslin,
near Melun, in the department of the Seine and Marne.  This
Chateau of Vaux had once been one of the most sumptuous of
the residences of Fouquet, the princely but unfortunate minister of Louis XIV.  The duke and duchess were latterly not




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.   375
happy in their union. Grave discord had arisen between them.
Their dissensions had become matter of public notoriety both in
town and country. One serious cause of quarrel was said to be
tile influence which the governess of his daughters, a Mdlle.
Henrietta Deluzy-Desportes, had gained over the duke. Baut
differences had crept in as far back as 1837, long prior
to tile entrance of the governess into the Family.  The
duchess objected to the continuance of this lady in the family,
and particularly complained of her estranging from her the affections of her daughters,  This subject of discord increased
with years, and eventually grew to such a height, that at last
Mdlle. Deluzy had to quit. She did not, however, leave France,
as the duchess expected, but went to reside in a boarding-school
near Paris. Here the duke visited her, and here she was about
to get an appointment as instructress; but the principal of the
establishment required a prior letter of recommendation firoi
the Duchess of Praslin. Such a letter, therefore, became vital
to Mdlle. Deluzy, and the duke undertook to procure it. He
was to have obtained it the very morning the duchess was found
murdered.  The departure of MIdlle. Deluzy from the Praslin
family took place at Paris, the 18th July, 1847, just about a
month before the occurrence of the fatal catastrophe. The
duke and duchess were then apparently reconciled, and thley
went from Paris to their country chateau together with their
children. The people, assembled at Melun for the celebration
of thle patron festival of St. Ambrose, saw them  there together
arm in arm, and were glad in consequence, for the family of
Praslin was popular with them; it was believed that they had
become perfect friends for the future.
The duchess herself was much and generally beloved for her
active charity and benevolence; the peasantry about her surnamed her " the good lady of Praslin."  This semblance of d-oncord between the duke and duchess was, however, a mere
shadow; she still had her sorrows; she would often feel and ex.
press -a kind of presentiment of her approaching end. One day
the duke requested her to descend into the funeral vault at Vaux,
which had recently been repaired; she refused, saying, "Shall
I not soon go into it for ever." It was under this state of circumstances that on the 17th of August, 1847, all the Praslin
family left their chlteau, and came to their superb residence in
Paris, in the Rue du Faubourg St. TIonorle, No. 55, at 8 o'clock
in the evening, by the Corbeil Railway. After their arrival




376                 REMARKABLE TRIALS.
the duke, with three of his danughters, and the youngest of his
sons, went to Mad. Lemaire's. the mistress of a boarding-house
mentioned, to visit Mdlle. de Lnzy Desportes; he saw her about
tlle letter, and left her at ten o'clock; he arrived at his house
a little before eleven, then conducted thle youlg ladies to their
apalrtment, and immediately retired to his own.
While the duke was out, the duchess with her two eldest
sons took a hackney-coach, drove to a bookseller's in the Rue
Coq-Saint-Honor4, and after staying a short time there, returned
home at half-past nine; the duchess then retired to ler sleeping
apartment, where she put on her night-apparel, ordered and
took some orgeat, laid herself down tranquilly, and beginning
to read in bed, dismissed her maid wvith a desire that she would
call her at six o'clock the next morning.  The maid never saw
her alive again: at live o'clock on that morning the duchess
had ceased to exist. Her body, thrown down near tle clhimney,
with the head and back against a sofa, there she lay deluged in
her blood, and pierced with more than forty wounds. The news
spread like wildfire, and all Paris was excited. An investigation instantly began. According to the opinion of the experts
called in, three kinds of weapons must have been used in the
perpetration of this crime; one a cutting, one a pointed, and
one a bruising weapon; or at least they said, the assassin made
use of ani arm which had at the same time a point, a blade, and
a stout handle, like a yatigan.
The blood had spurted on all sides. It formed itself into
pools, gutters, drops, amd various stains. It was -seen upon the
bed, upon the curtails, on the bell-rope-  and indeed upon
almost all the furniture in the room.
Everything proved that the duchess had attempted to escape
from her assassin, either by rushing towards the doors to get
out of the bed-room, or by endeavoring to pull the bell-ropes
that her domestics Inight come to her aid,-also by running
from one piece of furniture to another, thlat she might lnake a
rampart of them. It was thought the first blows were given her
while in bed, and that she made her most desperate efforts at
the chimney.
The murdorer, necessarily covered with blood, must have left
traces of it on his way; and that stained way was found to be
towards the apartment of her husband, the Duke ofi Praslin.
Drops and marks of blood were visible from the door of tle
duchess's cabinet to the door of the duke's bed-room,




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.  377
These indications at once put justice on the scent. Its further
enlightenment is detailed in the following portions and summaries of the interrogatories and other evidence. The first declaration was that of the Duke of Praslin, which was'lade on
18th of August, the day of the murder, to the magistrates
charged with the earliest investigations. It was as follows:"This morning at break of day," said the duke,' I was awakened by cries, when I caught up a pistol and descended into the
chamber of Madame de Praslin.,  I found the duchess
seated on the floor, her head against a couch. Hier face was
covered with blood. I had scarcely attempted to afford her
aid, when I heard a knocking at the door communicating with
the saloon. I went and unbolted it, and found there my valet,
my poi'ter, and other people of the house, coming also to tile
assistance of the duchess. In attending to my wife, I had
stained myself with blood. My head was quite gone; I returned to my chamber and washed my hands. I endeavored
to clear off with water the blood-stains upon my breast and
my dressing-gown; I did so that I might' not alarm my children,
to whom I wished to communicate what had befallen their
mother, but I had not the courage to tell them.  Very soon
after the General Viscount Sebastiani, the uncle of the duchess,
came, and he was still with me when M. Bruzelin, the commissary of police, also arrived.  My first care had been to order
that the commissary and a physician should be sent for.."
In consequence of this declaration, and other information already collected, the magistrates put various questions to the
Dlike of Praslin, which they set down, (as follows), in the minl
utes, together with the answers received.
"We asked the duke what use lie made of the pistol with
which he had armed himself.  He replied that at the moment
of his attempting to help the duchess, he let it fall near the
body; but that afterwards in his agitation, he had picked it up
again, struck it against the ground, and left it, lie no longer recollected where.
" We asked the duke how it happened that the fragments of a
silk handkerchief were found in his chimney? HIe replied,' I
took this handkerchief to bind abont my head; but finding it
in a very bad state, I flung it into the chimney, where there was
a great quantity of papers. This morning I threw a match into




378              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
the chimney, which I used, I know not for what purpose, and
the things took fire.'
"We asked the duke whence came a piece of green cord, such
as for a bell-pull, found under his braces? He replied that the
cord belonged to a pounce-box, but he could not explain why
he had it on him, and under his braces.  (The bell-pull over
the duchess's pillow, it should be observed, was cut off beyond
her reach.)
"We asked the duke whence came five ends of rope, and one
end of white cord, stained with blood, found in his dressirggown? He replied, that he knew not how the cords could have
fallen into his pocket; as to the stain upon the white cord, he
might have caused it by touching the cord with his bloodmarked hands.
" We Inade the duke observe that the pistol left by him in
the duchess's chamber had blood upon the barrel and the rainrod; that hair, and a small piece of skin, were sticking to the
butt-end, glued to it by blood; that these were circumstances
which raised against him the gravest suspicions.  The duke
hung down his head, and held it between his hands, while the
Procureur du Roi earnestly exhorted him to reply with frank.
ness. IIe ended by saying,'I formally deny having struck
Madame de Praslin with that or any other weapon. As to the
sticking of hair and flesh upon the butt-end of the pistol, it is
impossible for me to explain it.'"
The next deposition wa's that of Augustus Charpentier, the
duke's valet-de chanmbre. It ran thus:
"On the 18th of August, 1847, towards five o'clock in the
morning, I was awakened by an extraordinary sound of bellringing from the chamber of the duchess. She rang at the
same time for the valet-de-chambre, Maxime, who was'not inl
the hotel, and for her lady's maid, Madame Leclerc. I descended hastily, and with the key that hung upon a nail, unlocked the door of the duchess's ante-room, but could not get
in; the door, contrary to custom, being bolted inside. At the
same time piercing shrieks issued from the duchess, and I heard
a-confused noise, as if there was a running about the room. I
kicked the door violently with my foot, but could not burst it
open. The lady's maid now came, and we both ruslied round,
to enter by the grand saloon; but here also the door was held




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.  379
fast by a bolt on the inside. This door I pushed against with
violence, in hopes of breaking it in, but without success. At
intervals, my ear caught the death-rattles of my unfortunate
mistress. I flew to the garden. I knocked in vain at the window of the bed-room, and at that of the boudoir. On arriving,
however, at the south-west end of the house, I found open the
door of-the wooden staircase which leads to the ante-room between the duke's chamber and that of the duchess. The door
of the dressing-room, and the two doors communicating from
this cabinet to the duchess's sleeping- apartments, were quite
open. By this way I got as far as the entrance of tile latter.
All the shutters were closed; the darkness was complete; I did
not hear the least sound. I thought I experienced a smell of
powder and blood. I was alarmed, and retraced my steps. I
rejoined the lady's maid, and flew to MIerville, with whom 1
came back again, with a lamp and sword. At the moment of
turning round the south-west corner of the hlouse, we perceived that
the Venetian blinds of the ante-room were open. I did not stop,
however; Merville followed; we percived no one. The second
time I reached, the entrance of the duchess's bed-room; and
there, by the help of my lamp, I saw her stretched upon the
floor, and weltering in her blood. We instantly alarmed the
whole house. While repassing the yard, I remarked a considerable quantity of smoke issuing from the chimney of the duke's
chlamber, and 1 mentioned the circumstance to Merville.
"Our call brought the porter, also Ma.dame Merville, and
many other persons. We were about to pass through the great
saloon, to make the circuit I had before made, when the duke
opened the door communicating from this room to the duchess's
bedroom. We were not at the moment knocking there, as we
knew it was bolted within. The duke said,'Does she live still?
Run, and fetch amedical man.' I hastened to fetch Dr. Simon.
"This morning when General Viscount Sebastiani arrived, he
expressed himself as feeling suddenly unwell. I went to the
duke's room to beg a glass of water for him, but the duke replied he had none. In fact there was no water in the duke's
ewer, but the pitcher was in the middle of the room, and I
wanted to take some water from it, when he told me not to
touch it, for it was stale. This pitcher he took and ea.mptied
into the garden. A minute afterwards I was arrested cand confined in my room; when I saw them act so with me, I said




380               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
they would do much better to go and examine the duke's chamber."  This witness also testified as to the reported intimacy
which existed between Mille. Deluzy and the duke.
The depositions of Margaret Leclerc, ]ady's maid to the
duchess, of the porter, and also of Merville, the Duchess -of Orlean's valet-de-chambre, alluded to the reported adulterous intercourse of Mile. Deluzy with the duke, and agreed with
those of Charpentier, but were less long in detail.
Euphemia Merville, wife of the valet of the Duchess of Orleans, was more minute in her-evidence. When they rushed
into the room, crying out that the duchess had been assassinated,
that her dying groans could be heard, she replied, " We cannot
let her die without help;" and she instantly flew to the fatal
room. The porter was with her. To the best of her belief the
murdered lady breathed her remaining life away in her arms,
while she was laving her face with water.  At this moment the
witness saw the duke, and exclaimed, "Ah! my God! what a
misfortune!" when lie replied, striking her on the shoulder,' Good God! Euphenia, what will become ofus?" He beat
his hands against the wall, but she did not see him make any
attempt to aid his wife.
The evidence of the porter's wife somewhat deviated from
this. According to lier, the duke, on seeing the dead body of
his wife, exclaimed, " My wife! my poor wife! —the poor marshal! the poor children! —who will tell theln of this?"
Charpentier was a second time examined, and gave these
further answers.
Q. Do you recollect what the duke said on learning that
you had seen the body of the duchess?
A. He asked me, pressing his head between his hands,
"Who first entered the room.?" Upon my replying that it was
I, he demanded what I had seen; and when I said only the
duchess, lie asked what she had said. I told him she was dead,
and could say nothing when I entered. It was then he exclaiined, "Who could lhave done such a deed?  VWhat will becomlne of us-and tile poor children?"
Tile next important evidence was the examination of Mille.
Delazy Desportes, tlhirty-five years old, the governess of the
duke's children, formerly acting in the samle capacity to Lady
Hisiop. in Englanld. According to Mile. Deluzy's declaration,
she had always paid due respect to the duchless, and done notliing to alienate fiom her the affection of her children. When




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.   381
shle entered the family, " matters were," she said, " already on
a very bad footing." The duchess wished to superintend the
education of her children; but after three months, the duke,
lnot approving of this, expressed hlis dissatisfaction, whereupon,
for the future, shle abstained from  all interference.  The fillowing is a portion of the interrogation of Mdlle. Deluzy:Q. What were the causes of the dissensions between the
duke and duchess?
A. On the part of the duchess it was a desire to rule the
children, and, above all, ler Lusband; on that of the duke, it
was a fixed spirit of resistance, accompanlied, however, with
much gentleness.,Q. Is it not certain tlhat the duchess, and more particulary
during the last three mointlhs, believed that wroncg relations
existed between yourself and her llusband?
A. The duchess never hinted at anythilng of the kind to me;
she may have done so to others.  Two years ago, in consequence of a libellons article in the newspapers, I wished to
quit my situation, but 1Marslhal Sebastiani, in whose house we
were then living, in Corsica, was the first to oppose it at the
time.  The duchess treated me with much coldness upon my
consent to stay, but since then she has beenr exceedingly kind
to me. I was overwhelmed, therefore, when, about two months
since, I was informed, through the Abbe Gallard, tllat my
presence was' the cause of trouble in the house, and that I
must not stay.
Q. We have here a letter, without a da;te or signature, which
appears to have been addressed to yoau  at no relmote date, by
the duchess, wherein she says, "If it is forbidden to go to rest
without being reconciled to one's neighbor, it seems to me
that a new year is a still more cegent reason for putting an end
to all dissensions, and forgetting all complaints."  She adds
that it is with true good will shle offers you lier hand, and calls
upon you to forget the past as s]he hIas done, in order that for
the future you may live in good understanding with her.  At
that epoch, tlen, there still existed grounds of complaint
against you?
A. Tlhis letter was written to me in 1846, and witll it the
duchess sent a bracelet for a new year's gift.  Before this time
she had treated inle with tnuchi coldness, though without any
reason.  During last winter. onl the contrary, she was far




382              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
kinder. Every time she went to the play, she offered me a
place in her box; and whenever she went out on a party of
pleasure with the young ladies, I was invited to take a part..
From further questions it appeared that Mademoiselle IDeluzy had been visited three times by the duke after slie hlad
quitted his service. Upon one of these occasions Madame
Lernaire, with whom she was then staying, informed t]he duke
of her wish to give {Mademoiselle Deluzy a situation in her
house, but that on account of the evil reports in circulation
she could not do so without a letter from the duchless contradicting them. It was in consequence agreed that Mademoiselle Deluzy should call upon the duchess the next day to solicit such a letter.
The judge next demanded where she had slept on the night
of the 17th of Aungnst, to which she replied, at Madame Le
maire's; and to further inquiries she answerled that I)O one had
slept in her chamber, but that she was so surrounded by persons
near, that the least stir she made would have been heard by
themn.
Q. How did you learn the dreadful event that occurred yesterday?
A. I learnt it fiomn M. Remy, professor of 4iterature to the
young ladies. He took me with him to his house, where I
remained till eight o'clock, when an agent of the police came
for me.
Q. Why did you leave Mme. Lemaire at such a time, without saying where you were going?
A. M. and Mme. Remy seeing me so distressed would have
me go with them. I gave M. Remy's address to Mme. Lemaire,
who told it to the police agents. I cannot say why the police
remained at Mme. Lemaire's door without cominng where they
were to find me.
When the examination touched upon the duke's guilt, Mademoiselle Deluzy evinced the greatest- emotion, falling upon
her knees with clasped hands, declaring that it was impossible,
and exclaiming: —"Tell me not that there are presumptions
against him-say not that they are strong.  My conscience assures me that he has not done it. But if he have-great God!
it is I, it is I who am the guilty party, I who so loved the children, I who adored them-I was a coward, I could not resign




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.  383
myself to my fate; I wrote letters to them-letters which you
can see. 1 told them that I could no longer live, that I was a
poor deserted creature, without other support than an old
grandfather who threatened to suspend the little lie was doing
for me. I was terrified at my futlure prospects. O how wrong
I was! I oulght to have told them that I submitted to my fate,
that I could be happy in my little chamber-I should have told
them to forget me, and love their mother. But I did nothing of
the kind. When I quitted tile house, I was driven to such despair that I wished to die. I had a vial of laudanuzmn. 1
drank it.  Unfortunzately they recalled nme to life, and life was
to mne so very sad!  For six years I had been so happy in that
house in the midst of those children, who loved me, and whom
I loved more than life, for without them it is insupportable.
HIe must have demanded this fatal letter of recommendation,
she must have refused, and then-'tis I,'tis I that am  the
guilty one."
Q. It seems impossible that this excitement slhould merely
belong to such feelings as might exist between you and tile
children. Was it to tile children only that you addressed the
despairing letters of which you spoke?
A. You are wrong, sir; excitement can belong to every
feeling; do you not know that it can? But I will not say that,
as I constantly saw the duke so kind, so generous to me, there
may not have mingled with my affection for the children a
tenderness-a vivid tenderness-for the father; but never did
I bring into that house sin and disorder; I would not fiom regard to the children. I should hlave thought I had sullied
those whom I called my own dauglhters if I had embraced
them after I had become guilty. Can it not be understood
that one may love with honor? I feel that I am wrong to use
the words, my daughtern —words that I have used only since I
wrote to them. I have sometimes said, "my children," when
speaking to the whole of this youthful family.
Q. Did the duke participate in this state of sentiment and
excitement that you exhibit?
At No; but the children were unhappy; they suffered in
their health; their mother used themn harshly.
Q. But supposing the duke to have committed this crime,
one could never believe he did it to protect his children
against the ill-treatment of their mother?




384              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
A. No; such could not have been the cause. That which
excited and set him beside hlimself was the dread of a divorce,
with which the duchess incessantly threatened him.
Q. This leads us far away fron the conclusions that seem to
follow froin your first answers as to the causes which alienated
the duchess from you. It is no longer a question of jealous
suspicions, dissipated as soon as they arose, leaving no feelings
behind.  It is now, according to you, a case of serious dissension-the inevitable result to be a divorce. Your quitting
was not caused by a first manifestation of jealousy; you were
upheld by the husband against the wife; Marshal Sebastiani's
interference became requisite.
A. These resentments were not mnalnifested till the last motnent; I am ignorant to what degree they were carried.  The
duke never showed any feelings for me but friendship and
esteem, and I protest —to speak out plainly-he never was my
lover.
Q. Nevertlleless, it is one month since you left the house.
In that interval are penned the letters, which you admit you
did wrong in wliting. In that interval occur many visits paid
to you by tile duke, three at least. To-day you were told
to present yourself at the house, to request a letter of the
duchess, and it was yesterday that she fe11 by the hand of the
assassin.
A. I can only persist in tile answers already given. Nothing
wrong passed between me and the duke, nor xwas any future
wrong meditated.  Had thle duchess died natlrally, I would
not for the sake of tile children have consented to a qn.2saltiance, tlle consequences of which mnight have fallen upon
them. I had just as little idea of any other wrong. If the
duke had loved me, I might have been capable of sacrificing
nmy reputation and nly lifte for hlim; but I never could have
wished that it should cost lhis wife a lock of her hair. I speak
the truth; you ought to believe me, gentlemen.  HIas not nature a tone which carries a conviction with it? You ought to
feel that.
Q. The four beginnings of letters which we now show you,
are they not yours?
A. Yes, sil.
Q. One of these has an unfinislhed sentence.  " You say
nothing of your fatther. I hope that he is well, and continues




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.  3 85
to keep up his spirits. It seems to me I should be less unhappy, if I were sure to suffer."-Will you complete the sentence?
A. It is probable I meant to terminate the phrase with the
word alone, or perhaps with the words for you all. I know
not why I broke off; it may be that I thought it better not to
speak to the young ladies of their father.
Q. You did right; and precisely so, because the letter
contained  the expression of a community of feeling to
which it was not fit the young ladies should be made a
party.
The examination of the duke before the Chancellor Pasquier,
President of the Chamber of Peers, was opened by an earnest
adjuration on the judge's part that the duke should relieve his
mind by a frank confession of his crime, and when he pleaded
weakness as a reason for not entering into details, the jutdge
replied that nothing was more requisite than yes or no. Still
he urged his state- of feebleness, but to various questions of detail he replied with sufficient readiness. From these it appeared
that he had been wakened, as he thought, by shrieks in the
house, and that he hurried into the chamber of the duchess, a
recollection that seemed so much to overpower him  that he
begged of them to spare his life, to desist from questions. The
judge, however, proceeded.
Q. When you were in the duchess's chamber, you could not
be ignorant that every mode of egress was closed, and that you
alone could enter?
A. I was not aware of it.
Q. You went several times in the course of the morning into
the bedroom; was she in bed the first time that you went
there?
A. No; unfortunately she was stretched upon the floor.
Q. Was she not lying in the place where you struck her for
last time?
A. How can you ask me such a question?
Q. Because you did not answer me at once. Whence come
the scratches that I see on your hands?
A. I got them while occupied packing up with the duchess
the evening I left Pr'aslin.




386                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
Q. I see a bite on your thumb; how did that happen?
A. It is not a bite.
Q. The surgeons have declared that it is.
A, Spare me; my weakness is excessive.
Q. You must have experienced a painful moment when, upon
returning to your room, you found yourself covered with thle
blood you had spilt, which you tried to wash out?
A. This has been wrongly interpreted; I did not like ap.
pearing before my children with the blood of their mother.
Q. You are very unfortunate in having committed this
crime.
The accused made no reply, but seemed lost in thought.
Q. Were you not urged to this crime by evil counsel?
A. I have had no counsel; people do not counsel to such
things.
Q. Are you not devoured by remorse? and would it not be a
sort of consolation to you if you told the truth?
A. My strength completely fails me to-day.
Q. You are always speaking of your weakness. I asked you
just now to say yes or no.
A. If any one would feel my pulse, he must be sensible of my
weakness.
Q. You have had sufficient strength to answer a tolerable
number of questions in detail; you were not too feeble for
that.
The accused made no reply.
Q. Your silence gives the answer for you, that you are
guilty.
A. You have come here with a conviction of my guilt; I
cannot change your opinions.
Q. You can do so if you give us reasons for a contrary belief-if you can explain otherwise that which seems explicable
only by the supposition of your guilt.
A. I do not think myself able to change this conviction of your
minds.
Q. And why do you think so?
After a pause, the accused declared it was beyond his strength
to go on.
Q. When you committed this awful crime, did you think ot
your children 




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.  387
A. Crime! I have committed no crime; as to the children,
they are always in my thoughts.
Q. Do you dare to affirm that you have not committed this
crime?
The accused sank his head within his hands, and for a few
minutes remained without speaking. He then said, "I cannot
reply to such a question."
Q. Monsieur de Praslin, you are in a state of torture, and, as I
said to you just now, you may lessen this agony by giving me an
answer.
The accused makes no reply, but begs, in mercy, that his further
examination may be postponed till another day. This was assented to, and the investigation terminated.
A second examination of Mdlle. Deluzy now took place, and
thistime before the Chancellor Pasquier. Her statements would
make it appear that the duchess had little intercourse with her
children; for while the family remained at Paris she went out
a great deal, and lived much at her father's; in the country she
spent much of her time in her own room. Mdlle. Deluzy, according to her own showing, frequently wished to come to some
understanding with her as to the education of the children, but
her constant reply was that she did not approve of the duke's
system, but that she had given him her word not to interfere
with their education.
The judge then asked Mdlle. Deluzy if she did not think this
isolation very painful to the duchess, and a cause of dissension
between her and the duke? To this she replied, " Quite the reverse. I believe, upon my soul and conscience, Madame de Praslin was more occupied at that time with her feelings about her
husband than about her children, whom she scarcely ever saw,
and whom. she sent away, when their father was present, in order to be alone with him. When he was no longer there, she
voluntarily kept herself at a distance from the children, in
order that she might use it as a weapon against him in her reproaches touching his way of managing their household. In the
early part of my residence Madame de Praslin would never
walk out in company with her children while we were in the
country; since then she has changed. When the Duke de
Praslin, while playing with the children, would happen to answer abruptly the questions the duchess incessantly addressed to




388               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
him to divert his attention from them to herself, she would invariably quit the room with the liveliest expressions of jealous
irritation. This was soon perceived by the, children; who, with
the innocent malice of their age, affected to brave this feeling by showing yet more attachment for their father, and by being perpetually about him. I perceived the evil arising from this
sort of struggle, but I had not always the power to prevent the
results. At a later period, the yet greater affection I felt for my
pupils prevented me from being quite impartial in these dailyrenewed disputes."
At this answer the judge rebuked the woman for endeavoring to turn all the blame upon the duchess, and for not having
used the influence she had over the children in restoring their
affections to their mother. To this MIlle. Deluzy replied that
they had asked for the truth, and she therefore felt obliged to
tell it without reserve; and added that the irritable, unbending
character of the duchess made her totally unfit for bringing up
the children. The examination then took another turn. She
was asked if she had never felt that she was a cause of dissension-a stumbling-block in the way of the duke and the duchess? To this she replied that she thought but little at first of
the estrangement of Madame de Praslin from  herself, as the
duchess evinced the same feelings towards every one who approached her husband. At a later period, when evil reports began to circulate, she had expostulated with the duchess, who,
however, treated it as nothing more than vanity and self-love on
the part of one who held a situation so beneath her own and
her husband's rank.
Q. You have said that the Duke de Praslin ended by living
chiefly with you and the children?
A. The Duke de Praslin did not live chiefly with me and
the children; but, hi country and in town, the habits of the
duchess, who never left her father's saloon, except to mlix in gay
society, were the cause that in the hours of recreation during
summer, as well as in long winter evenings, the duke walked
with us, or passed some time in the school-room. The children
were admitted for a lew moments only into the house of their
grandfather. Madame de Praslin never did desire us to pass
the evenings in her drawing-room.
The judge again commented severely upon the evident desire
of the witness to throw all the blame upon MlIadame de Praslin.




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.    389
To this she replied, almost as she had done before, that, being
interrogated, she felt bound to make her explanations as clear
as possible; adding, " the conduct of Madame de Praslin was
the same towards those whom she loved best; it was very unequal, and often quite incomprehensible. At one time she would
grievously wound my feelings and self-esteem; at other times
she would treat me with sympathy and kindness. Often in the
space of an hour, after having charged me with my influence
over the family, she would request me to use it for the accomnllishment of some fancy she might have; often, after having
inflicted some cruel anguish on me, she would make me a handsome present; even during the last days of my remaining with
her, when she had refused to sit at the same table with me,
when in the eyes of the whole house I was rather expelled than
honorably dismissed, Madalne de Praslin, meeting me by chance,
showed herself all at once as kind: as in our best days, and,
more than that, actually sent me some books to amuse me."
The judge could see in this another proof of the duchess'
goodness, while MBlle. Deluzy inferred from it that the duchess,
displeasure must have proceeded from an irritability, which she
could not control, rather than from any sense of wrongs done to
her. The judge again objected to her evident desire to lay all
the blame upon the deceased, to which she replied as before,
but with considerable emotion, that she only endeavored to give
the desired explanations, and that she would gladly die to bring
the duchess back to life.
Q. In the last visit that the Duke de Praslin paid you with
his three daughters, and his youngest son, what passed between
him, you and them?
A. When the duke arrived with the children, the latter were
much affected; at first there was nothing but tears and embraces.
At length, embarrassed by tile presence of the children, I said to
the duke, in general terms only, that Mime. Lemaire, the directress of the establishment where I had been for a month, was
willing to employ me; but that reports, unfavorable to my reputation, having reached her, she wished that Madame de Praslin
would write her a letter, that might serve as a testimony of my
character. The duke then saw Madame Lenlaire. When he
returned from the interview, I told him. that it was not requisite
~for him to trouble himself much about this request, Madame Lemaire perhaps attaching more importance to it only to make me




9 0             REMARKABLE TRIALS.
accept conditions that I did not feel disposed to comply with. A
few moments afterwards the duke left me in haste, to save the
children from the reproaches of their mother, on account of the
visit they had paid me, and our last words were, " Farewell till
to-morrow;" for we were all to meet again at noon, and it was
agreed that at two o'clock I should respectfully seek a reconciliation with the duchess.
Q. Did the Duke de Praslin give you any assurance or hope
of obtaining from the duchess the letter you required in your
favor?
A. He told Madame Lem'aire that he did not apprehend any
difficulty, the duchess was anxious that I should pass into the
employ of another.
Q. When the duke quitted you, did you observe any extraordinary excitement in him?
A.: _No, sir; he only said, " I am sorry for you. I play a vexatious part in this business." But he appeared calm.
Q. At what hour did he leave you?
A. A little before ten.
Q. Did he go away in a hackney-coach?
A. In a hackney-coach with his children.
Q. Did you hear anything fall from the lips of the Duke de
Praslin that might lead you to think he was in a temper to proceed to extremities with the duchess?
A. B3y all that I hold in life most sacred, never! never! I
know not whether it is allowable for me to mention here some
facts that I alone know, and which prove that the violence was
not on the Duke de Praslin's side. Often did I hear the duchess
threaten to attempt her own life. Once at Yaudreuil, she wanted
to stab herself, and the duke, in disarming her, wounded his
hand; another time, at Dieppe, at the end of an explanation
between herself and her husband, of which I was not actually a
witness, but which the children and myself heard from theroom
where we were-she rushed into the street, threatening to fling
herself into the sea; yet with that strong inconsistency of character already mentioned as belonging to her, the duke found
her in a shop, making purchases, and quite calm.
Such was the sum and substance of this Mdlle. Deluzy's explanations. It is for the reader to form his own judgment of
them. Not much more light was thrown on the horrible event.
Its conclusion came abruptly.




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.   391
The Court of Peers had been convoked by royal ordinance,
issued on the 18th of August.  The Procureur-General, M. Delangle, had immediately prepared the affair for the chamber;
the Chancellor of France had forthwith associated to himself
Messieurs Decazes, de Pontecoulant, de St. Aulaire, cousin,
Laplague-Barris, and Vincens St. Laurent, to take the preliminary proceedings. He had, as already shown, gone through the
examination of Mdlle. Deluzy Desportes, and of the duke. The
court was now prepared to sit on the trial of the accused, and
society awaited a great judicial example.
Suddenly a report spread that the duke was poisoned-that
he was-dying -that he was dead. The effect of this news upon
the public is beyond description. The Duke de Praslin expired
in the Luxemburg, whither he had been transferred in the darkness of night, to avoid the fury of the populace. In consequence
of his death, the chancellor made the following report to the
peers:
" An account is due to you of how we used the powers committed to us, for investigating the murder of the Duchess of
Praslin. The inquiry was conducted upon the presumption,
which proved too well founded, that her husband, the Duke of
Praslin, was the actual criminal. The time the duke was under
your jurisdiction was of no long duration. At five o'clock on the
morning of Saturday, he was committed to the prison of the
Luxemburg, in virtue of an order that I had given on Friday,
but which could not sooner be.put into execution. He lived
four days only from the date of his entering the prison, having,
a few hours after the murder, taken a powerful dose, of arsenic.
On Tuesday, the 24th, at half-past four in the evening, he died,
just seven days and a half after the perpetration of the atrocious
deed. This short period, however, sufficed for bringing to light
the truth in all its details. It is probable that the duke took
the poison when he saw his plans defeated of hiding the murder,
expecting its effects would be much more rapid than it actually
was. At all events, he poisoned himself in the course of Wednesday, a little sooner, or a little later, and vomitings commenced
at ten o'clock at night. These ceased with the end of Thursday,
and were succeeded with great weakness, but the surgeon could
detect no symptoms of poisoning, and imagined it was an attack




392               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
of the cholera. After a few struggles the duke grew better, and
at ten o'clock on Friday night it was decided by the medical
attandant that lie might be removed to the prison of the Luxemburg without inconvenience. Although the accused could not be
brought to an actual confession of his crime, yet the absence of
of all denial, even when the choice was formally given him between yes and no, may well be received as such.' The conclusions drawn from the proces verbal, and the after minutes, bear
that the poisoning of the duke, effected by himself, must have
occurred in the middle of Wednesday, a few hours only after
the commission of the murder. It appears also from the minutes, that all the results which followed, the intervals elapsing
between them, and the duration of his state terminated by
death, were the natural and habitual consequences of this kind
of poisoning. As regards the duke all then is made plain, all
is accomplished, the justice of man has no longer any power over
him. lBut at the commencement of the preliminary inquiries,
the ordinary judges did not hesitate to arrest Mdlle. Deluzy
under suspicion of having been a party to the crime. For six
years she had been a governess to the duke's children, and only
left the house and her situation on the 18th of July last. I have
continued this arrest, by issuing against her an order of imprisonment, in virtue of which she is still detained in the Conciergerie."
Mdlle. Deluzy was soon after set at liberty.
The duke's remains were buried at night, and in secresy.
The people were so enraged against him, and were so incensed
at the impunity he had obtained in the eyes of the world by
dying, that many refused to believe he was really dead. Some
there were who maintained that the noble families, interested
in stifling the details of the scandal, had procured' the governmnent's connivance at the evasion of the miscreant. Those who
had too much sense to credit so absurd a supposition, declaimed
not less loudly against the system of tolerance, consideration
and insufficient restraint allowed him, which enabled him to
escape from the merited disgrace of a public execution.
The letters which the duchess wrote to the duke during the
period of discord caused by the presence of Mlle. Deluzy, have




TIE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.  393
obtained quite a literary fame from the purity and goodness
of mind, and the energy of feeling they display. The correspondence minutely details and painfully lays bare the long agony
the unfortunate wife must have endured. We give a number
of these letters, impressions and diary addressed to her husband,
and three letters to Mademoiselle Deluzy, together with other
correspondence of the'parties connected with this melancholy
affair.
Some of those letters were found in the desk of the Duke of
Praslin; others in the Duchess' chamber.  Shortly after the
assassination they were published in pamphlet form, and were
the subject of considerable comment and eulogy. Had they
been written by a person in humble circlRmstances they would
not probably have obtained a general notoriety. But the writer
was one of the first ladies of France, a Duchess, and daughter
of a Marshal. Meeting with so tragical an end, her impressions and writings must necessarily be read with a good deal
of interest. Their intrinsic merit as literary productions must
also highly recommend them to the community.
LETTERS, IMPRESSIONS, AND  DIARY  OF  THE
DUCHESS DE  PRASLIN.
Letter of the Duchess de Praslin, found in the -Desk of the
Dukee, at Paris.
" May 21, 1840.
"Do not be astonished, my dear Theobald, at my fear of being alone with you. We are separated forever —you said so; a
sad recollection will ever be attached to yesterday. You must
have perceived yesterday that I felt its full weight, when in the
presence of persons who have caused this separation, nothing betrayed that it had taken place. You will never have occasion




:394             REMARBABLE TRIALS.
to complain of me before the world-my conduct yesterday if
proof sufficient. As long as I nourished hopes of a reconciliation-and latterly I had many-I was hovering between joy and
fear, and gave way to fits of temper; but now that sacrifice is
done, you need not fear. Before the children and the world,
nothing will lead to the supposition that you have destroyed
my peace. When I say' you,' it is not you that my heart accuses,
but to be alone with you would be too much for me. I must
weep in solitude, and endeavor to gain sufficient strength to
hide my misfortune from the world; my illusions are still too
fresh, my love of too late a date, to assume at once toward you
that cold reserve which my future position imposes upon me.
My heart would overflow; it will need time to calm its movements. Then, mon anrd, instead of avoiding you, I shall seek
your presence; but at the present moment I love you too well.
My future life will be one of mourning; my feelings will be
always the same, but time will have softened down their form.
Do not be angry with me, then, mon ami, if I avoid your society; I do so not to embitter your life. In the presence of a
third I' shall feel, more at my ease, for then I can appear affectionate towards you, and those will be my only happy moments
— and I hope that the occasion will often present itself. Surely
after what passed between us in the morning, yesterday evening could only be a source of grief to me; and yet I appeared
gay, and almost was so, for I thought that if. we were reconciled I should have to act in such and such a manner, and I
acted accordingly; but it was only an illusion.  Alone with
you, I must always be on my guard in presence of the sad
reality. We are separated, and although it is now nearly
three years that we have lived as if we were so, there still was
hope; but that vanished yesterday.
" To act towards you for the future as I ought, I must endeavor to forget my past hopes. Time and habit can alone
teach me to draw a line between Theobald and M. de Praslin.
If I could but think that you would be happy at the price of
all my sufferings, present and to come, it would be a consolation to me. Farewell! What pain is in that word: pain that
I never dreamt of before.  -Farewell! and yet you loved me!
We shall meet in heaven: refuse not this last prayer, the only
meeting place I may now designate. May the thought sometimes cross your mind that I still love you."




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.    395
Letter from the Duchess to her husbaxnd, written in Jiune, 1841.
" Wherefore, my beloved, do you refuse to let me share
your afflictions?  You deprive our life of all the charms of
affection.  Do you then believe, or rather, do you wish to persuade yourself that independence consists in solitude? You
say that I am  exigeante, because I desire to share your sorrows. You do not like me to remark that you have any. Do
you then wish to become quite a stranger to me, and for that
would it not be requisite for me to become entirely indifferent
to you?  And how could I become indifferent to the person I
love best on earth? Do you think it possible? —would not my
heart break long before?  You yourself are sorrowful to see
me sad, and you know the reason of my sadness; you know
how it is in your power to console me, and yet you withhold
those consolations. I, on the contrary, see that you are sad: I
feel within my heart a source of the deepest love, sufficient to
calm and sooth all your sorrows, and you discard me. Am I
not your wife, the partner of your life, she whose duty it is to
share equally your pleasures and your sorrows a If you were
ill, it is not my hand that should smooth thy pillow? And are
not sorrows diseases of the mind —of the spirit? Wherefore,
then, reject me?..   You have a heart to appreciate the
joys, the wants of a loving heart, in which to place full confidence and find relief for your sorrows. It is the violence of
my manners that prevents you placing that confidence in me.
Believe me, Theobald, four months of sorrow and repentance
have chastened me: it is to love and console you, and not to
torment you, that I seek your confidence. I give you my word
never to try to gain an ascendancy over you; I am  fully
aware of your superior character and mind; I only wish to
share your life, to embellish it, and pour balm upon yonur
wounds. You left my room because you thought that I wished
to gain an ascendancy over you. My friend, I swear unto you
in the name of my love, in the name of yours, by all that I
hold most sacred and most dear, I only seek your love and
your confidence as Jyou have mrine. I will blindly obey youI will no longer torment you by jealousy —I shall never give
you a word of reproach or of counsel. My repentance is too
sincere: I have suffered too much to return to my past faults.




396                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
We are both very young, Theobald. Do not condemn us both
to solitude. How we love each other-we are both of us pure
-and shall we live apart from each other both in body and
mind? Do not let your heart be a, sufferer from  a little feeling of amour propre; I swear unto you that I only seek your
affection and your confidence; I shall be tile loving and obedient partner of your life.  My friend, confidence is the marriage of souls-their mutual confessions are their caresses, and
union, happiness and virtue are their fruits.  Believe me, I
shall never abuse your confidence: your confessions will be
received in my bosom with the same mystery and affection
as thy caresses. Take again your own Fanny.:i Try her but
for a short time with love and affection, and you will find that
you will be much happier than living in solitude. You seek a
change, but are you really happya Oh no, you are not, with
a heart like yours, and the'life we are leading. The only happiness of your wife consists in your love and support. Turn
not, then, a deaf ear unto her entreaties-unto her vows-to
her repentance; for she loves you, and her whole life will be
passed in love and gratitude towards you. You have driven
her fromr your bed and from your heart; could you do more if
she was false?  She spends her days and nights in tears; she
waits outside your door, but dares not enter for fear you should
reproach her for it on the morrow..Mon ami, in the name of
the many dear remnembrances which you bid me invoke, should
I ever have offended you, hearken to me; give me again your
confidence and your love, and open your heart to the woman
whose life is devoted-to you. Oh, I will never abuse it. O1h,
how have I offended you, my beloved, except by my.suspicions and by my temper, and when did a kind word fail to
sooth me a Give not vent to your anger-be not inexorable.
My heart is breaking. Theobald, pity! pity on her who loves
you.l Trust your happiness to my keeping, as I trust mine to
yours....  Do not break the heart that is beating only
for you.  You who once loved me so much, forgive me.
When you confess to me your sorrows —your head upon nmy
breast, your hands in mine, my lip upon your forehead-do
you not think that they will be less than if pent up: your
own breast?  Do not sacrifice our mutual happiness to an
empty fear that I will abuse your goodness; no, no, I will only
share and console you in all your sorrows. But will you,be




THE MURDFR OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.    397
the less a mall to have a loving woman to share your pleasures
and your sorrows?  Let this union of our hearts be a sweet
mystery of love between us. Oh, we could be so happy if you
would but try it. You would always be met with a happy and
smiling countenance, ready to follow yotl wherever you liked.
Perhaps, after all, you are the more jealous of the two. G(od
knows what suspicionl you many nourish in your breast, for I
am at a loss now to interpret your secret sorrows.  If you
knew what I suffered, my beloved! It is still in our power to
be so happy. I cannot think that you wish to abandon me
thus for ever, to deprive us of mutual happiness-life is so
short, my beloved, and we have been separated already so
long. Soon I shall not dare to make proposals-always refused, like my caresses. It is not in your character to make
the first a(lvances, and from customl your wife will fear you
too much to make further attempts, and life will then pass by,
and you will be unhappy, and your wife will die of grief.
Oh, return, return unto her!"
The following are -extracts from a diary, with a lock to it,
found in the chamber of the duchess at the Chateau de Praslin. On the first leaf the following words are writtenFor myy Iasband, the Duke of P~raslin; for himn alone.
" Jan. 13, 1842. —Twice have the pages of this book been
covered with the outpourings of a broken spirit.  I burned
them in a moment of despair, to efface all marks of my sufferings, and only show you my happy thoughts at'your return.
Two years have passed, and my hopes are destroyed for ever;
but I feel the want of expressing to you all the tenderness and
love I have felt for you.
"You have taken my children from me. My children! do
you think me capable of corrupting tlhem?  I loved you too
well not to love my children, and you have now taken thein
from me, to place tlhem under the care of a giddy young person, without any religion, and whlom you only know firom an
eight months' acquaintance. Theobald, Theobald, was it not
sufficient to abandon me, without depriving me of the affee




398              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
tion and the esteem of my children l  For five years, nearly,
my pillow has been wet with my tears, and my health has suffered fromn it."
Jan. 24, 1842.-The duchess again complains bitterly of
being deprived of her children:
"Each day adds additional sorrow to my existence. I have
been calumniated, and perhaps you think me guilty; otherwise you would never have deprived me of my children, to
place them under the care of a stranger who has usurped my
place in your house, and yet, before God, I swear I never
loved any one but you.  Oh, if I was not certain that your
heart is for ever closed to me, I would make a last attempt. I
would throw myself at your feet, and entreat you, in the name
of your father, of your old days, of our children, of our first
love, to have pityon her who has never ceased to love you.
What an existence-what a future! With a husband and children, to be condemned to live and die alone!"
"April 23.
"It is long since I have written, and my position has since
become more and more painfuli You seem to have changed,
and put aside all external appearances. Mademoiselle I)Dreigns absolute. Never was a governess seen to assume so
scaudalous a position. Believe me that it is a great misfortune, a great evil; for all this intimate and familiar conduct
with you, this authority over the whole household, shows that
she is a person who believes that she has a right to put herself
above all propriety. With her all this is vanity, love of rule,
domination and pleasure. Reflect that a fraternal intimacy
between you andlher, looking at your age and her position, is
out of all consistency.  What an example to give to young
persons, to give to them, as a thing of course, a woman, aged
only twenty-eight, going and coming at all hours, and in any
state of costume, to and from the chamber of a man no more
than thirty-seven, receiving him in her own chamber, being
tete-a-tete with him for whole evenings, ordering furniture,
directing journeys, parties of pleasure, etc.  She has broken




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.    399
with her female friends in order to bring herself into greater
relief, and thus engrosses you entirely to herself, always finding means to get rid of the children.  zHas she not had the
effrontery to say to me,'I regret, madame, that it is not possible to act as mediator between you and M:. de Praslin; but,
for your own interest, I recommend you - to pay attention to
your manner of conducting yourself towards me.  I conceive
that it would be painful for you to be separated from  your
children; but, after the positive resolution come to by M.
de Praslin in this respect, I am sensible that he has reasons too
well founded for coming to such a decision, for me not to feel
it to be an important duty to conform  to it.'  Is it possible
that yqur wife, who has ever been so pure, who has never loved
but your children and yourself above all things, shall be constrained to hear herself insulted by her whom you entrust to
bring up our children, whom you have known only a few
months, and of whom you spoke ill to me in the first part of
that time? You are afraid that I should corrupt your children
-and yet you abandon them to a person Nvho makes a mockery of all the decencies of life, trampling them under her feet,
who regards as superstitious all the exercises of religion! You
despise me so much that I dare not repeat the expressions you made use of in telling me so, because I blamed her
manners and her arrogance.
It would be better for me to approve of that which is blameable, in order to obtain her permission for you to treat me better. Then, indeed, should I render myself despicable, when I
submitted to purchase pleasure, even happiness, by baseness
so vile. You are in such a state of irritation that you will not
listen to me, and cannot comprehend me.  I do not mean, as
you always seem to conceive, that Mademoiselle D — is your
mistress in the full force of the expression.  This supposition,
on account of your children, is revolting to you, and you do
not perceive that, in the eyes of all, her familiar relations with
you, her absolute empire over the house, my isolation, are as
fully established as if she were so openly.  You have often
concluded from appearances much less decisive, that there
were criminal relations between others.  Cannot you, therefore, conceive my grief at seeing my children torn from their
mother, to be abandoned completely to a person who has no
conception that good conduct and virtue have their own eternal




400              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
forms, and ought never to adopt those of vice? I-Iow can 1
help being afflicted when I see them inl the hands of a person
who has avowed her contempt for me by what [ have repeated
to you above, and who establishes her empire by making you
hate and despise me? You have always said to me,'When
there are saspicions they should always be cleared up.'  But
do you not find that she daily engrlosses your time, and abuses
her power over you by'using it to aggravate our differences,
and alienate us more and more fiom each other?  The best
weapon, if I take it into my hand, is sure to turn upon and
wound me. To-day, feeling disgust at seeing you come from a
tgte-d-tete with Mademoiselle D —, I thoughIlt I was making a
master-stroke by flying without say ilg a word; thinking by
this to avoid a scene, and mark imy disapprobation mildly and
without risk.  Good God   I was far finom  exl:)ecting the
frightful rage into which my unfortunate mildness threw youl 
Certainly, no violence I could have used could have excited
you further than to pursue me on the staircase with abusive
language, uttered with loud voice and insulting gestures; and
then, after retiring for a few minutes into your own room,
coming into mine and breaking my Saxon vase, my silver-gilt
ewer (a'iguiere), or rather that of Horace, and taking away
two presents to which I was much attached, for you gave them
me when I thought you loved so much-my little rose plateau
and my small gilt vases. I trust you have not given them
to her or to another. The other day, to punish me for having
forced myself into your room, which she can enter whenever
she pleases, you came and broke all nmy onzbrelles. To-day,
because I fled in silence to avoid a scene, you destroyed things
most precious to me, and rob me of the memorials of a love
which has been my entire happiness. You have alrealy
burned those letters which were the sole remaininl testimonies
of that tenderness; you have torn from me my children, you
have condemned me to all the miseries of life for the present,
without leaving any hope of happiness for the fiuture, and now
you deprive me of the memorials of the past.
"Oh, my God! I have loved him  too much —you have
struck true. I could have lost all with courage, with resignation, with joy, so long as iris affection and that of his children
had been left to me. Now I have no longer his esteem. In
the bitterness of my grief I feel a proof of thy love for me by




THE MURDER OF THE DUCEESS OF PRASLIN.    401
the magnitude of the trial. I feel in the bottom of my heart
that each new grief is a new promise, oh! my God, of being
again one day reunited to them  in thy bosonm.  Strike!
strike! oh! God, and deign to grant my prayer; give me
strength in this world to support all that Thou art pleased to
inflict. Often do I ask myself whether he loves me still;
whether he is attracted by hel, or whether simply by the
children;- and whether, under false ideas, he has placed himself upon such an improper footing with her. I cannot help
believing that, at the bottom, there is much of the spirit of
teazing and tormenting in all this that he does.  What were
his habits and connexions? Of what nature have they been
for years past?  Is it for her that he has renounced them?
Frequently, and at this very moment (half-past one o'clock in
the morning), I cannot help figuring to myself that she is perhaps with him in his chamber, gossiping with him, in defiance
of propriety, without being what is called his mistress. How
is it that he does not comprehend that there are many things
wounding to the affections? -All is not concentrated in one
animal action, as regards the pains of the heart.  I am convinced tliat, if we were separated, he would soon feel the necessity of observing strictly the proprieties of society with tile
governess of his daughters.  Can it be true, my God, that he
despises me; that he loves me no longTer! Sometimes I entertain doubts, and fancy that it is only a plan to correct mne.
But, on reflection, I cannot but remenmber that for five years
lie has daily broken more and more with me; that I aml no
longer: anything to him; that he has deprived me of my rights
as a niother, as mistress of his house; that, on all occasions,
my place is assigned to her by him.  It is a lure he has held
out to me, intimating that if I support all the severe privations
he imposes upon me without uttering a complaint, he will restore to me all my desires! Does he imagine that he can, if he
wishes to do so?  Does he desire it? I often thinJk he does.
Could he then? This I very much doubt. Mademoiselle Dwould bring forward the bargain between them, and he would
not dare decide in my favor.  And I well conceive that she
has real advantages as a governess, but he thinks her superior
to what she really is. He would see me submissive, and believe me content; lie would think that the change would not




402              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
be worth while, and in truth it is too certain that he has a very
bad opinion of me. I have great faults, and I suffer too much
fiom them to be ignorant of them; but I am convinced he believes I have vices that I am not guilty of. This morning, in
conversing, Madame de Dolonien, before this friglhtful scene,
said to me,'Your husband has an entire and tender devotion
to you, has he not?' I avoided the question, for I could not
take it upon myself to say a thing I did not think, which I
knew too well I could no longer boast of.  He loves me no
more! But, my God, to whom I have said,' Deprive me, if
so it must be, of his love, that only joy of my life-that life of
my heart-but let him be saved, that we may one day be reunited with our children in Thy bosom, as the reward of this
sacrifice.' O 1 tell me, my God, that he will love me again
when he knows this-that he will not curse my memory, and
my prayer will be granted. It is so new to nme to see him give
himself up to these violent fits of passion, and to which mine
have never approached, that I frequently cannot help thinking
that this violence is feigned, inasmuch as in general he does
not break things to pieces until after he has reflected.  God
grant that this may be so! for if he be so anxious to correct
me as to purchase my cure at the price of extravagances, with
an air almost of sangfroid, then he still loves me: and yet,
what horrible expressions of disgust! They cannot come from
a feigned anger! But he did not say to me the other, day, in
the presence of Berthe, and throwing to me all he had broken
in my absence, that he would do the same every time that I
broke something in his apartment a This is a singular idea,
since I never intentionally broke anything belonging to him.
I only wished to force open the door of his chamber at the
moment ble was bolting it. He afterwards told me coolly that
he would do the same whenever I happened to repeat the
breaking. This, then, is a plan, a.calculated resolution
come to in advance. Why, then, should I take it for a real
act of passion   To-day, however, I have neither said nor
broken anything. Truly, this is paying dear for a silent mark
of dissatisfaction. I cannot help thinking that it must cost
Theobald dear to commit such follies as to break, like an untoward boy, things which belong to me.  It is so little his
character. He thinks he punishes me severely, and I confess
that I do not suffer much at seeing him give way to a conduct




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.    403
so ridiculous, if it be not admirable from a design to correct
me. He knows not, however, to what point material objects
are in themselves indifferent to me since I have lost his affection, and the hope of bringing him back to my apartment, for
I have never regarded my most precious objects other than as
ornaments of the place to receive him. He has no conception
of the love I bear him. At the bottom of my heart I feel that,
were he but to return to me, I should love him -as much, perhaps more, than ever. I suffer so much from my isolation. I
should be so happy to see it brought to an end. But the will
of God be done. I cannot conceive how matters will be arranged. I know not how to help thinking that a separation
would be best. Things are becoming more and more envenomed. I wish to promote his happiness; but, as his life is
now arranged, instead of contributing to it, I destroy it. I am
suffering a thousand martyrdoms. If I were to go quite alone
to Pretot, under the pretence of sea-bathing, he would have
titne to learn whether he is really more happy with the life
he has arranged with Maidemoiselle D — and the children,
without having me as his wife, or whether it would be more
agreeable to him to commence a new life together with me.
Three months may be sufficient for his experiment, and I could
resign myself with the greater facility to live alone down
there, than to remain here in the position in which I find myself. I know that, as things are now, my absence would be
rather a relief than a privation.'Remember, most holy Virgin Mary, that it has never been heard that any of those who
have had recourse to thy protection, who have implored thy
succour, and demanded thy intercession, have been abandoned.
Animated with this confidence, O Virgin of Virgins! I fly
to thee; and, groaning under the weight of my sins, I prostrate myself at thy feet! O Mother of the Word, despise not
my prayers, hearken unto my petition, and deign to grant it.'
-St. Bernard."
Undated Letter found in the Duke's Bureau.
"You have proved in so many ways that you have no esteem
nor friendship for me, that you desire my children to partake
your sentiments, I wish only to leave you to enjoy in peace




404              RE~MARKABLE TRIALS.
the life you lhave selected, without my being perforce a spectatress. I suffer too much here, deprived of all in the place
I love, and in the midst of those I cherish, and whoni an intrigante tears from me. I do not understand why my sorrowful
life should serve as a seasoning to your pleasure.  Do what
you will, but for pity do not force me to be a witness. If the
baths are ordered for Aline, trust me to take her there. Ah!
if you will allow me to consecrate my life to those of my
children who give you the least delight, to whom nature has
been least kind, it would be enough for me."
Also  undated.
" You will not be surprised, sir, that after such an insult I
can never consent that the person to whose ill conduct I owe
it should remain under the same roof with me. You are completely blinded towards me, and towards yourself. You are,
doubtless, free to do what suits you; but you are not free to
have my daughters brought up by a person whorn I despise as
her shameful conduct deserves. For a long time I have
sought an explanation with you  I have done what I could to
obtain it, but you refuse it. I demand, then, that you authorize me to travel, to avoid greater scandals.  During that time
you will reflect on the course it will be suitable for you to
adopt. The day will come, Theobald, when you will return
to yourself, and will perceive how unjust and cruel you have
been to the mother of your children, in order to please a crackbrain who respects nothing."
"May 1, 1842.
"It is evident that Theobald makes towards me what is for
him great advances; he has ever shown me real tenderness,
and a sincere desire to change our manner of life. But does
he truly wish, as he tells me, to adopt, if I land myself to it
(thlese are his expressions) a life of intimacy, and to restore me
to my natural position as a wife and a mother; do we compre



THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.    405
hend each other in this respect? Does he clearly understand
that I cannot be happy unless I possess his unlimited confidence, nor content myself unless I am restored to the possession of my position as mistress of the house, and piarticularly
to the surveillance and direction of my children? Will he ever
admit that?  Will he ever dare to signify such a thing to
Mademoiselle D-?-  I doubt it, for she will put the case
to him,'Choose between her and me,' and she will carry her
point. My defects and the qualities of Mademoiselle D
he regards at the same time through the same magnifying
glass; I fear that he will cause himself a complete illusion;
that he will imagine that, whilst I shall be mild, his affection
and his reconciliation will suffice for mle, and that I relinquish
with a good grace all my rights as a wife and a mother: but
he deceives himself, for it is for me a serious and a positive
duty, as it is desirable, to return to the enjoyment of my
rights towards my children. Under these circurnstances, my
rights are duties, and of the most sacred kind. He has, unfortunately, ideas the most false and the most dangerous in the
relations which he ought to have with governesses, and on
their position in a house. He forgets that nothing in thle relations, the position, and the conduct of a governess, should be
capable of giving rise to unpleasant interpretation; he trusts
too much to the purity of his intentions.  Faults consist in bad
actions, but scandal arises from appearances; for one can only
judge from what one sees, and sctadal is a great evil, particularly on a question so delicate for a man of his age, with so
young a governess, and whose natural character is firivolous,
inconsistent, familiar, impertinent, coquettish, without tact,
without a solid religious foundation, and overruling. He treats
governesses as certain persons treat nurses —they spoil them
until they become odious.  With all that, he has not returned
the china he took from  me.  What has he done with it? has
he them still? At the bottom I believe it; will he return
them to me? there is a world of ifs on that subject. He has
not expressed regret as to what he has broken for me-he
smiles when I speak to him of it. I am  inclined to believe
that he felt a slightest degree of anger on that point.  It is
very evident that he ha;d a mind to our being reconciled.
Never have I so strongly believed in his inclination in this
respect. Will they let him do it?  I much fear that he may




406               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
yet be impelled to do many things, against which I shall not
know how to confine myself to a quiet regret.  I strongly feel
that, in spite of my affection for himn I cannot be happy if I
do not occupy, in a complete and irrevocable manner, the same
apartment with him, so as to return to that intimacy which
naturally and alone brings about that pouring of the soul, that
unlimited confidence, that double existence, which is the happiness of marriage; neither can I be so unless I participate in
all his cares for my children and their society. But, my God!
snatch from me, if it be necessary, every happiness, the affection of all those that I love, and reunite us one day in your
bosom. Save us, my God! Give us eternal happiness, and do
with us what seemneth fit to you in this life.  My God, thou
knowest that this is from the bottom of my heart. I wish for
what seemeth fit for you; but give me strength and resignation to support it."
Paper found in the.Duchess de Praslin's Secretary,
" PRASLIN, Sept. 14. 1842.
"You are, Theobald, I am convinced, far from suspecting
your harshness towards me, and how much it makes me suffer.
It is a very slow but a very painful death, I assure you, to die
of grief. Oh. Theobald, how much I loved you! how much I
loved your children! I have no longer anything in this world.
Of our union nothing remains for me but your name. I live
alone, forsaken, despised, and I have a husband and nine children; another, before my eyes, enjoys all these blessings! and
you would have me think that natural! Well, I do say, and
truly, that of all tortures, the most cruel that could be imposed
on me is the life I lead. My God! what crime would not be
expiated by such anguish! you no longer love me! you abandon
me! though of all pains this is the most acute for me, who
have never ceased to love you with so much ardor. I understand it; but, to deprive me of my children, Oh! no, you have
no right to do that, Theobald. Can you be so weak and so
blind as to abandon my children to a brainless woman-a
woman without shame, without principles, without tact?"




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.    407
Extract from a Letter without Date, found in the Duchess de
Praslin's Secretarfy at ]Paris.
"I go, my dear Theobald, for I confess I no longer know what
conduct to adopt; I thought I yesterday acted very well in
quitting in silence, in order to avoid thie bitterness with which
you reproach me whenever I open my mouth. This new plan
so badly succeeded with me, that I require time to collect my
ideas as to what course I shall pursue. You have frequently
repeated that you despise me; you have for so long a time
proved it to me, that I unfortunately can no longer doubt it;
but I admit that I do not well understand it. Besides, you
sadly misunderstand me; you always suppose that I fix all my
ideas on one guilty act, and I comprehend that that idea revolts
you, particularly under these circumstances. It is not only
this which is blameable and painful to affection; certainly to
see you prefer the society of another, to give her all my rights
to your fiiendship, to your confidence, to your intimacy, all
those which I had over my children; these are real and profound subjects of grief. Add to this the pain of seeing my
children in the hands of a person, who, because she commits
no fault, takes upon herself to be inconsistent and famniliar; to
employ her influence to direct you, and take possession of all
the house: who looks upon the usage of society as absurdities
-candidly there is enough in this to cause unhappiness, sorrow,
and anger. To continue life in that way is impossible. Call
to mind that before all things I wish for happiness; but I cannot
secure it to the price of my conscience. If I remain
I will propose an arrangement to you-reflect. If you are
willing I will get my-physician to order me sea-bathing, and
will go alone to Carteret. I will stay three months; if the life
you lead with Mademoiselle D- and our children suits you for
a permanency, without having the trouble of a woman who
wants to be the companion of her husband, and the mother of
her children-if, in short, you prefer being a widower, tell me
frankly, and I will stay there; if, on the contrary, after three
months, you remember that you have a loving wife, and if you
feel the want of a friend who will devote her life to you, then
you will tell me so, and I should arrive very happy, very
grateful. Do not accuse me.of thoughtlessness in offering you




408               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
this alternative. I wish you to be happy; I know that my
presence is a burden, that my absence will be no privation, as
I am of no use to anybody for anything, as things have gone
on for some time past."
This letter is addressed, "M. le Duc."
Letter, without Date, found at Praslin.
" When I arrived here I hoped to have some moments of
amusement and truce: but the illusion has not lasted long:
the steps of the carriage had not been put down, before I saw
in your icy, disdainful, and discontented air, in the constrained
expression of the looks of my children, in the little green eyes
which appeared behind your shoulder, that I was about to be
subjected to the most humiliating treatment, to the most pain
ful life, to support the spectacle of tile most improper things,
not to Wake use of a more appropriate phrase. Believe it,
Theobald, if I still strugzle, it is because I am firmly collscientious-because it is my duty not to renounce the struggle
to obtain a factitious peace and tranquility, not to give by my
silence an appearance of tacit consent to a state of things
which concerns my children, and which I strongly disapprove,
and because I firmly believe it to be detestable, grievous fdr
the present: pernicious, dangerous in the future!  You may
do all that you will, 1 am still the mother of those children
whom you. give to the first corner. I know very well that you
are the master, that you can do all you will with hne: but
there is one thing in which the rights of a wife are almost
equal to those of a husband-you. entirely forget that. Do
you know, then, that the laws, if I were to invoke therm, would
decide in Ily favor?  You know that I shall never do that;
but;s that a reason for making a bad use of it'? You believe
yourself obliged to cede in all things in order to preserve
Mademoiselle D-, at every cost. You believe that it would
be possible to replace her near you, near my children.
"But why do you, who believe it so simple, so easy to replace a mother, think it so prodigiously impossible to replace a
governess? If you had desired it, she might have been a good
governess, but you have changed her functions, her position-_




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.    409
and those who shine in the second rank are cast into the shade
in the first. How is.it possible that her head should not be
turned when your conduct says to her every day, still more
clearly than your words,'I have a wife, but I prefer your society, your attentions.  My children have a mother, but,
though J scarcely know you, and you are younger, I have more
confidence in your principles, your experience, your attentions,
your devotedness, your manners, your judgment, your tenderness, to be everything to them. Take, then, the place-cornmand, ordain; she who must be the mother of my children
must be sovereign in my house'.... When I had the
wealkness, by excess of love for you, to make you an immense
sacrifice in abandoning my children to iou, picturing to myself, ii a guilty blindness, that this sacrifice, on account of its
greatness, would most certainly restore me your affection.
Persuaded by your promises in this respect, I comrmitted, I
admit, a great fault-I ought to have died sooner than have
made this sacrifice.  And I made a very false calculation, for
this sacrifice made to my love gave you a bad opinion of my
principles, my judgment, my heart. At present you have
established a complete separation between us-we are nothing
more than strangers one to another. Things cannot endure
in their present state. Therefore, reflect: remember that I
supplicate you to give me at least a becoming position, and an
interest in life. Oh, but you are weak. You have arrived at
such a point that you dare no longer go out with your wife and
children without being accompanied by that person for whom
you have taken from me what you gave me in the first days of
our marriage. You are so much under her yoke that you dare
undertake nothing without her. You would consider it wrong
to leave her for a moment, and your wife, the mother of your
children, must live and die alone."
Letter, without Date, found in the Secretary of the Duchess de
Praslin.
"I cannot understand what are your views as to the future
of our children, nor by what principles you direct your conduct, nor what is the nature of- your sentiments with respect to
me. You will not under any pretext read my letters, nor
26




410               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
accord me a serious conversation, nor any explanation of any
kind. If it be the dread of an explanation on your private
conduct, you are wrong to fear that I will enter on that subject. I for a long while expected, hoped for that moment
almost as much as I desired it, but it is now an illusion completely destroyed. You have too clearly proved that you no
longer love me, and that all relations must cease between us,
for mne to be absurd enough to expect from yon any mark of
affection. I therefore only demand of you, I swear it, that
which is not refused to any woman, unless she be a monster of
corruption: and that is, the permission to do my duty towards
my children, and to enjoy the consolation that I can find in the
midst of them alone, ih the services that I might render them
and in their tenderness, to soften the bitter regrets that wring
mny heart at having lost your affection; I would have given. all
my blood to regain your tenderness, to enjoy it again for some
moments, and then to die; but I have been cowardly, selfish,
guilty, I admit it, in abandoning to you all my share of
rights over our children, having pictured to myself that this
sacrifice, greater a hundred times than that of my life, would
touch you, that you would return to me, and that you would
give yourself to me a second time.
" B.ut I take Heaven to witness, I would never have made a
similar concession for any motive, if I had not been convinced
that you would put them in respectable hands, and that only for
their instruction. Never, never would I have willingly consented to be deprived of all relations with my children, to no
longer occupy myself with their health, with their comfort. But
that was not the case. Never have I been sufficiently unnatural, sufficiently infamous, to renounce the care of my children,
notto live with them, and to exercise no moral influence over
them. You must be very blind not to see that you are in the
hands of an intrigante. Yes, the person who is capable of
profiting by the dissensions which she remarked between us on
her arrival, in order to increase her authority, which has completely separated us, which has totally separated a mother from
her children, is profoundly immoral, and unworthy of the confidence which you place in her. A woman who accepts such a
false position is the most dangerous example for young girls;
she purchases authority at the price of her reputation. Women
who make such bargains-have only another step to take to lose




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.    411
themselves in fact as they have already lost themselves in appearance. Having had the misfortune to thrust herself into a
very false position, Mademoiselle D  ought, if she had the
sentiment of modesty, or the least tact, to have reserved manners, to act becomingly towards you; instead of which, by her
conduct, shameless towards you, arrogant in the house, scandalous to me, she puts herself forward in a scandalous manner.
" You will admit that I lead a shocking life, that you yourself
would not support it. You say that it only depends on me to
change it. Eh! mon Dieu! I know very well that, if I would
consent to find everthing that IMdlle. D-  does charming, to
close my eyes on what I find wrong, to appear not to perceive
all that there is suspicious in the mysteries which surround you,
to renounce the right of having a fixed opinion on certain principles, and on what is proper; I doubt not that, if I would say'amen!' to all that I blame, my life would be quite different in
appearance; that is to say, that you would consent to speak to
me more graciously, as would also Mademoiselle D ——; that I
should sometimes be admitted to promenades and parties of
pleasure; that you would consent to talk to me from time to
time as you talk to anybody else; that you would come to see
me some moments if I should be unwell; that you appear to
take some interest in my health or my pleasures; that you would
perhaps have some attentions for me, some presents to offer
me."
Letter from  the Du)chess to Xademoiselle de Luzy, when at
Turin  with her eldest Daughter.
"PRASLIN, August 25, 1846.
" I wish not to delay a moment, my dear Mademoiselle, in
thanking you for your kind letter, which gave a lively pleasure,
and which, so far from thinking long, I could have wished to
be double. I got it this evening, and I will not deny that it
was time that letters had reached me, for my-head and my heart
were much excited by the long silence. I am Lappy, as you
may guess, to hear all you tell me of Isabella's happiness, but I
am much astonished that you find no change in her manners.




4 1 2             REMARKABLE TRIALS.
there is a very marked one in her letters. I thank you a thousand times for the details you have given me. *  *  *  You
say that Louise and Berthe speak of me often with Isabella. It
is, perhaps, to give me pleasure that you write this; in any case
you have completely succeeded, for I wept with joy. Once
more, my dear Mademoiselle, I thank you a thousand times
from the bottom of my heart for your letter, which I truly hope
will not be the last.
" SEBASTIANI PRASLIN."
To the Same, woritten apparently on January 1, 1847,found in
the Residence of Kademoiselle de Luzy-Desportes.
"-It is forbidden us to retire to rest without being reconciled
with our neighbors; much, more, it appears to me, ought the
new year to put an end to all dissensions and obliterate all disputes. It is then heartily that I offer you my hand, AMademoiselle, anld ask you to forget, in order that we may live well together henceforth, all the moiments of pain that I have caused
you; and I promise you, also, to pass the sponge over' all the
circumstances which, in mortifying me, have excited me to occasion them. Every one has his faults in this world, and I am
induced to believe it is too happy. This ought to render us
mutually more indulgent, and to facilitate reconciliation. I
am truly convinced of your sincere and tender attachment to
my children, and, believe me, that- no one is more disposed
than I am to show gratitude and affection to those who have
been devoted to them, if I am not wounded to the heart by
the thought that they are estranging tllem from  me. You
know as well as I do, that it is custom  which causes attachment, especially with clhildren. Not seeing their mother, she
loses lier place in their hlearts, as in their life they end by
doubting  her love, happy if at a late period their esteenm and
their confidence are not shaken. Certainly this was not your
object; for you must have known that it would be as pernicious to the children as sorrowful to the mother to destroy
bonds so sacred.  From one trifle to another, one comes to do
thingi  which at first one was far from conceiving.  If, instead
of irr-itatingr oneself about faults which are mutually confessed,




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.    413
we reciprocally overlook them, I believe that every one in this
world would make a good bargain. It requires only to be a
good driver, and go round the stone heaps instead of over
thern. For my part, I confess that I often come into collision.
I had long intended to write to you to renew all our acquaintance with the year. It is, therefore, with double pleasure
that I have received your charming work this evening, because
it proves that you are also willing to put an end to a state of
things which I am convinced cannot fail to be hurtful to the
children, to place yourself often in a disagreeable and false
position, and place me in one very cruel to me, who live isolated for so long a time from those dear affections in the midst
of which I was so happy. I anticipate with great ardor the
time when my daughters will be grown up, and I confess I
Buffer much in seeing them what they are towards me. But I
am.taking a long time to say that we ought to try to abandon
a wrong course, to take another, and to beg you to receive and
take up this gage of a new alliance, to which I hope you will
consent."
To the Duke de Praslin.
[Written in pencil —no date.]
"You have a rare and precious talent at poisoning every
thing. While your conduct influenced only the happiness of
my life, it was my duty to be silent, and I was so. It' you
imagine, with your muttered words and your threats, to make
people understand that I no more approve in public than in
private the iconduct of a person whom I despise, and who does
not merit your confidence nor mine, yotl are right: for I think
it a scandalous shame to allow the presence near young people of a woman who has proclaimed herself as she has done.
I know well enough that you have other liaisons, and that it
is not with her that your life is occupied, but she assumes the
attitude. It is this which I have the right to blame. I do not
pretend to busy myself with your private conduct and affections, but neither menaces nor ill treatment will prevent my
repeating, as I have a right to do, that you deceive yourself in




414              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
putting your children into the hands of a woman who has no
care for her reputation, and has ceased to respect herself."
Another Letter found in the Secretary of the Duke de Praslin,
at Praslin.
" PARIS, June 15, 1847.
" My dear Theobald —I have waited until this moment for
the result of the promises that you renewed to me, on my return from Italy, to change the organization of our home. You
appear to have forgotten them, and I find myself obliged to
tell you that I do not think I ought to return to Praslin, without it be to re-enter on the exercise of my rights, and to fulfil
my duties of mother and of mistress of the household in their
fullest extent. The system of governesses has always succeeded badly with us, and it is time, for the welfare of our children
and the dignity of our home, to abandon it. So long as my
daughters shall not be married, I will reside everywhere
among them, I will be present at all their occupations, I will
accompany them everywhere. All my plans are formed, and
when you shall have reflected, you will certainly find as many
motives for confidence in the education of our daughters under
the care of a mother as under that of a governess. Masters
will supply as easily at Praslin as at Paris the lessons of a
governess, who has always stood in need of their assistance. I
have foreseen everything, and all will be esasily arranged. My
father, I know, has offered to Mademoiselle D   - an honorable pension for life. In going with it to Eugland, her talents
and her patrons will procure her a becoming position more
easily than at Paris. You would be wrong to be disquieted
with the grief that our daughters would feel; it would be much
shorter and much less profound than you imagine-I have certuin reasons for not doubting that. For a long time back you
have expressed yourself with respect to the conduct of Mademoiselle D - in a manner to leave no doubt that you have
opened your eyes to a great part at least of its grave impropriety. What would secure her retirement in an honorable
manner would be a pension from  my father, guaranteed by
me, and her journey to England, which would explain away




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF'PRASLIN.    415
favorably a sudden departure. By delicacy I first sought a
supporter in your family in order to open your eyes; after
hlaving waited for the result in vain for years, I must at length
submit to the legitimate desire of my father to speak to you in
the name of the veritable interests of our children. When you,
mly natural supporter, fail me, I must let myself be guided by
my father. I dco not doubt that, when the first ennui shall
have passed away, you will rejoice at a crisis which will reestablish natural order in our home. If it enters into your
arrangements that Mademoiselle D   -- shall return to Praslin
to seek her things, I will wait until she shall return before going there: if they must simply be sent to her at Paris, I will
start as soon as you please for Praslin. After all the rumors
which have been current, 1 have shown hlel sufficient kindness
to restore her kindness, as you pointed out to me, in so far as
it depended on me, in order to make her leave with honor. I
have fulfilled my task: the welfare of my children, that of
their establishment, will not permit me to prolong by resignation a state of things pernicious to all. Let not the fear of recrimination on these painful matters torment you. It enters
into my views as much as it does into yours not to return to
them. ]My silence on previous circumstances almost the same
is a sure guarantee of this to you. The first condition of family life is peace and a good understanding.  That is my object,
and it will be easily obtained when no attempts shall any
longer be made to separate children from their mother, and to
reign by division. It is not without serious reflection, nor
without the assurance that I follow the opinion of my father,
that I have determined to adopt such a serious resolution.  It
would have obtained, I am sure, the approval of my uncle de
Coigny, who is to ime the representative of my nmother, if' I had
not avoided till now to speak to him of these sad details. My
wishes are that everything shall be arranged between my father,
you, and myself, without the intervention of other advisers.
You have often expressed to me, my dear Theobald, the desire
to see things take another face, because you really feel the discomfort of our home; but you always draw back. I now count
on your co-operation, as in everything which concerns the happinessof our children.
"FANNY SEBASTIANI PRASLIN."




416                  REMARKABLE TRIALS.
Impressions.
Friday, June 17, 1847.-I must repeat hourly to myself that
I have accomplished a sacred duty towards my daughters, in
consenting to join my efforts to those of my father to send away
this woman. It caused me a great deal of pain. I hate eclat,
but every one told me, as well as my own conscience, that it was
my duty! -My God! what will be the filture?  How  he is incensed.  One would think he was not the guilty one.  He says
he loves his children, and distrusts their mother, and makes his
mistresses their governesses!  What a life he is leading!  He
is losing all his energy.  May God guide my children.
Letter of Du9chess de Praslin to Jlademoiselle de Luzy, a copy
of which was found on Augg. 20, 1817, in the Duke's
Secrctary at Paris.
"June 19, 1847.
" Mdlle. —I regret exceedingly that you are unwell, and that
in such a state you have taken the trouble to write to me* for a
matter which your attention to my children rendered  so nat* Letterfrom lMdlle. de Luzy to the Duchess de Praslin on the 17th or 18th
of June, 1847.
" Madame la Duchess,-I should have liked to express to you in person the
sentiments which animate me, but I feel that under present circumstances it
would be a task above my strength. Permit me to postpone to a more calm
and more happy period the thanks which I desire to express to you with my
own lips for the generosity with which you remunerate my feeble services.
At the moment of quitting children to whom I have devoted the most lively
tenderness. I find in the testimony of your satisfaction a powerful consolation, I accept with gratitude the offers of recommendation which you have
the goodness to make, and I shall hasten, Madame, to avail myself of them as
soon as circumstance will render it advisable for me to do so. The ill health
of my grandfather, exceedingly precarious for several months past, imposes on
me the duty of being with him at present. I shall demand permission to
inform you at a later period of the steps which I shall think advisable to take
and I pray you, Madame, to accept the assurance of my profound regret.
"H. DE Luz-Y."




THE MURDER OF TIE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.    417
ural. If circumstances important for their interests have precipitated an event which I regarded, only a few days back, as being
still distant, do not doubt that I shall in consequence seek out
with greater zeal all occasions to be useful to you, and that I
shall be well pleased if you point me out the way. I have
heard it said that you wish to go and see Lady Ilislop; if that
be the case, I can offer you a letter to Lady Tankerville, who, I
am certain, will earnestly second Lady Hislop in all her endeavors to forward'your plans. If you thought fit to have letters for Mde. Flahaut and Miss Elphinstone, dispose of me
freely.  I remember you asked me to lend you a book on ar.
riving at Praslin; I hope you will not refuse to accept that 1-ittle
souvenir, which I have great pleasure in offering to you. I am
anxious to repeat to you, Mademoiselle, that I shall seize with
eagerness on all occasions that occur, and such as you may be
pleased to afford me, to be of use to you.
" S. PRABSL."
Documentfound at Paris, in the Duchess's Secretaire, sn a
sealed Envelope, also entitled "I'nmpressions."
"July 18, 1847.
"It is long since I have written -anything, and nievertheless
nothing has changed in the interval.  She will leave, they say,
when we go to Praslin; and in the meanltirne the empire she
holds is most absolute. Father and children, she retains tlhemr
all as in a special bond. I understand her galne well enough,
if she has really swallowed all shame; but for him, I cannot
explain his conduct. He complains of calumny: btlt he confesses that appearanlces are bad, and l.e makes these appearances every day worse, and gives more grounds for all the
scandalous interpretations. He pretends that their relations ar!e
misinterpretedS, and yet he publicly proclaims the rupture with
my fLther on her account.*  Hie breaks with us, and does not
* Letter from Marshal Sebastiani to the Duke de Praslin, found in the desk
of the Duke de Preeslin.
" Monsier le Duke,-You have caused me great pain. You have attributed
to want of feeling my closing my house to you and your children. You are
obliged to render me justice, I did all that was in my power to avoid this




418                    REMARKABLE TRIALS.
leave her.  No character can be more enigmatical. Is it excess
of corruption? or is it excess of weakness?  Were it excess of
weakness, could that go to the length of making him so trample
on the interests of his children?  What, could he have so much
fear of this woman as not to dare, while she is in the house, to
leave his children with their mother, or show regard to his wife?
What has given her this empire over him? —it is not natural.
She must have some means by which she makes her threats
powerful over him.  Poor man, I sincerely grieve for him.
What a life he leads!  What a future he is preparing for himself!  If he allows himself to be thus domineered over and
browbeaten by intrigantes at forty-two, what v will he be when
he grows old! And yet, how I love him! He must have been
sadly changed.by all these bad habits; for, on seeing what he
is now, I cannot say what inspired in me this love so impassioned.  He is no longer the same man; how  dull is' his spirit,
how harrowed his heart-how much he -has grown suspicious,
ennuied, and irritable.  Nothing animates him, nothing interests him, nothing exalts him.  No generous, impassioned, or enthusiastic sentiment seen-is to vibrate in his heart or mind. He
had rank, fortune- all that could render his existence useful,
brilliant, happy and honorable.  All is galvanized; he interests
himself in nothing either for his country or for his children.
He keeps company with governesses; he is their cavalier servante till he becomes their slave.  Truly, I believe that he only
wishes to keep Mdlle. D. (whom he has not loved for this eighteen months or two years), because he fears, if once removed
separation which you feel so much. I took upon myself the odious task of
pretending to be ignorant of what all Paris and the journals spoke of, and for
this generous conduct you address me in a letter of violent and undeserved
reproaches. I never mentioned the name of Mdlle. de Luzy to any one. I am
ready to say anything that may favor her interests, but be considerate, and
do not ask what is impossible. I do not see my daughter for fear of prepossessing you against her. You were the first to deprive me of the pleasure of
seeing my grandchildren. I do not deserve such treatment. You should
consult the interests of those young people. Did I ever act towards you in
such a manner as to deserve this treatment? But you are not yourself, and I
excuse you. You have a good heart, listen to its impulses, and you will render me justice.
"IH. SEBASTIANI.
"When you are as old as I am, you will reproach yourself with having
scted harshly toward me."




THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.        419
hence, she would make life too hard for him. My God! what
an existence! What is curious is that I am sane. He firmly
believes that it is on account of jealousy that I wish the departure of Mdlle. D. lie will not comprehend that my moving
principle is, and will henceforth ever be, my children. He believes that it is my jealous love for him, and this flatters him. It
is singular; but I do not doubt that, if he had not believed my
love inextinguishable, he would have treated me less unworthily.
What an illusion-what an excess of self-love! Yet it would
perhaps have been possible to preserve, at the bottom of one's
heart, love for a man who has treated you as he has treated me;
if, on the other hand, this man excites our admiration, and elevates himself in our eyes by grand actions and great works.
But a grovelling and an ordinary man, one loves only if he is
just, if he is good, if he is conscientious, if he renders your life
happy. It is not necessary that he should do great things, but
he must know how to appreciate them. I cannot tell how far
this contempt and enmi'at all things, this total impossibility of
taking a lively interest in anything, has completely cooled my
feelings towNards him. I thought him so different. Oh, he must
have been so; I could never have loved him if he had been
always what he is! Certainly, there was stuff in his heart, in
his understanding; but the want of firm principles of,morality
and religion, and his idleness of mind, have caused him to succumb to sensual passions. And -with all this, he wishes to educate his daughters! How completely has he isolated himself.
IXe has not one real, serious friend. He has no connexions but
those which have sprung from his pleasures, and which have become chains from his weakness when he wished to detach himself from them. How frightful it is! He drags after him, like
a dog, the exigencies of women. with whom he has been connected. And yet how bizarre are men. He has always sacrificed, oppressed, wounded, humiliated, ill-treated, and abandoned me, for persons he did not love. For my part, 1 have
loved only him, and with a passion inexpressible-an ardor
which astonishes me; and now I know not but that, at the bottom of his heart he, perhaps, prefers me to those women whom
he despises and fears; and I — I am well disenchanted with
him. He will be always unkind to me now; he is too well
aware of the extent of his wrongs, and cannot comprehend that
I can forgive and forget. My merit would not be so great as he




420               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
thinls. I cannot be jealous except when I love, and then I can
easily forgive: and since my sentiments are changed I can have
no further feelings towards him but on account of the wrongs he
does my children. Our position is very strange and very sad.
While he has run after pleasure, I have been secluded from it.
He has had. enjoyments and no love-love for me has been extinguished in tears, and I have not.....  But what hag been
worn out by one has perhaps been preserved by the other, and
reciprocally.....  How will all this end? I do not believe that
this can ever be by a complete reconciliation, as would be, desirable for our children. He will always avoid me, because he
is conscious of his wrong, and I shall never seek him but from
duty to my children. A feeling of shame will always prevent
my making advances to a man, even though my husband, when
I doubt my love for him, and when i feel that other ideas, repressed for so many years, have, rather than my affection, urged
me tobhis arms.
"M Iy God! you alone know what privations of the affections
and all other kinds I have suffered. If I have not yielded to
temptation, the glory be thine, 0 Lord! 0 abandon me not now,
for without.thee I shall sink! My God! My God! support me,
direct me; I fear the future, the threats he has made to me,
the difficulties which arise daily-but thou wilt be there, my
God, and in that is mny trust that thou wilt support the poor
mother to whomn thou hast given strength to strive for her children. Lord, help me!"
The exquisite tenderness and eloquence of these epistles have
become world-wide in reputation. We regret that our limited
space in this volume will not permit the publication of all tlie
letters. In those which we furnish may be found an exhibition
of that burning love and deep devotion which animated the
duchess through life towards her husband.  How much
strength of feeling and melancholy do they not display! Itow
much of the mother, tile wife, and the woman! Nothing in
language has ever more prominently portrayed the anguish of
a bleeding heart, struck, as she believed it, by the neglect and
inconstancy of her hlusband. Often in the silence of her chainm



THE MURDER OF THE DUCHESS OF PRASLIN.  421
ber, with the lamp dimly burning, alone with her thoughts,
did she sit and pen the beautiful effusions which were in after
years to bring tears of sympathy to the eyes of the reader, and
raise up thousands of mourners over her unhappy fate. At midn i ght
when all the household was buried in sleep, and the poor lady
heard nothing but the beating of her own heart, would sh-e
draw over to her table and indite these touchincg impressions
and diary which we have just printed. The duchIess found
relief in writing in this strain. When the heart is overflowing
and the mind almost mad with meditation, the patient finds
satisfaction in pouring forth on paper words of sorrow.  It was
thus with Madame la Dtchesse. Thlere is little doubt but that
her domestic sufferinios were intense. An amiable and se'lsitive
lady she must hlave been. Those who knew her intimately,
have spoken of her as one in whom was centred all the virtues
and religious enthusiasm peculiar to the French Christian. No
wonder then that her writings should express vividly the interior terrible agitation of the wonman. When she appealed to the
honor of her husbandl, begged and beseeched of him to return
and once more become rle-united, words can scarcely be expressed more pathetically, or with more force.  Her very soul
seemed to gush forth at the pen's point, and the throblbing of her
blmken heart to have kept time with its nimble motion,. as it
traced on paper the history of her life and sufferings. Her
words were writtenSo softly, that like flakes of feathered snow
They melted as they fell.
An official cop) of the trial, together with the letters, impressions, and diary of the duchess, and other matters connected
with the tragedy, was published in Ptaris in the year 1847, by
M. Crapelet. There is a copy of this work now extant in this
city. From it and other volumes the foregoing details are
compiled. Many who read this history will drop a tear to the
memory of the unfortunate duchess. All will feel a sympathy
for her terrrible fate.
Her memory will ever be revered by history, wlhile the unfortunate Duke who was the perpetrator of this deed of blood,
will be remembered with detestation. In his disposition, the
Duke was described as a man rather moody and reserved.
Some went so far as to assert that the Inmurder was committed




422              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
while the culprit labored under a fit of insanity.  This is certainly a most charitable view to take of the matter. Itis difficult to imaginre, that a man possessed of so amiable a wife
could be guilty of her murder, and that murder committed in
such a horrible manner, as to shock the sensibilites of the most
hardened. Surely he must have been influenced by some
powerful incentive.  What that incentive could be, does not
appear very clear. Some facts have appeared to prove that
the murder was premeditated.  Others point to the conclusion,
that a serious wordy warfare ensued between the Duke and
Duchess, relative to the letter which Madame Lemaire required
in refutation ef the reports, as to Mille. Deluzy's character.
On the examination it was proved that the unfortunate lady
received thirty wounds. Her struggles must have been very
severe, blood being scattered over all the apartment and furniture. A map of the room pointing out the spots of blood, thle
bed, the furniture and different positions of the parties, is annexed to M. Crapelet's official account of the various examinations. A glance at the map clearly conveys how terrible
must have been the struggle between the dying wife and her
murderer.
EARL FERRERS' MURDER OF HIS STEW APRD.
HIS TRIAL, CONVICTION AND EXECUTION.
Lawrence Earl Ferrers, who lived during the reign of
George II., was an English nobleman of a violent spirit, wlio
had committed many outrages, and, in the opinion of all who




EARL FERRERS' MURDER OF HIS STEWARD.         423
knew him, given manifold proofs of insanity. He at length,
in the year 1760, perpetrated a murder, which subjected him
to tile cognizance of justice. His deportment to his lady was
so brutal, that application had been made to the Htouse of
Peers, and a separation effected. Trustees were nominated; and
one Mr. Johnson, who had, during tile best part of his life,
been employed in the family, was now appointed receiver of
the estates, at the earl's own request. The conduct of this man,
in: the course of his stewardship, gave umnbrage to Lord Ferrers, whose disposition was equally jealous and vindictive.
lie imagined all his own family had conspired against his interest, and that Johnson was one of their accomplices; that he
had been instrumental in obtaining the act of parliament,
which his lordship considered as a grievous hardship; that he
had disapproved himn in regard to a certain contract about
coal-mines; in a word, that there was a collusion between
Johnson and the earl's adversaries.  Fired with these suppositions, he first expressed his sentiments, by giving Johnson
notice to quit the farin which he possessed on the estate; but,
finding the trustees had confirmed the lease, he determined to
gratity his revelnge by assassination, and laid his plan accordingly. On Sunday, the 13th of January, he appointed this unhappy man to come to his house oil the Fri4y foloowiing  in
order to peruse some papers,'or settle his accounts; and Jollnson went thither without the least suspicion of what was prepared for hlis reception; for, although he was no stranger to
his lordsllip's dangerous disposition, and knew he had some
time before incurred Ihis displeasure, yet he had imagined hlis
resentment had; entirely subsided, as the earl had of late behlaved to lim  with remarkable complacency. He therefore,
at the titme appointed, repaired to his lordship's house at
Stanton, in Leicesterslilre, at the distance of a short mile from
his own habitation, and was admitted by a maid-servant. The
earl had dismissed every person in the house, upon various
pretences, except three women, who were left in the kitellen.
Johnson, advancing to the door of his apartment, was received
by his lordship, who desired him to walk into another room,
where he joined him in a few minutes, and then the door was
locked on the inside. After a great deal of warmI expostulation, the earl insisted upon his subscribing a paper, acknoxledging himnself a villain; and, on his refusing to comply with




424               REMIARKABL;E TRIALS.
this demand, he declared lie would put him  to death. In
vain the unfortunate lman remlonstrated against this cruel injustice, and deprecated the indignation of this furious noblemlan. He relllained deaf to all llis intreaties, drew forth a pistol, which lhe had loaded for the purpose, and, commanding
him to implore heaven's mnercy on his knees, shot him through
the body, while he remained in the supplicating attitude.
The consequence of this violence was not'immediate death;
but his lordship, seeing the wretched victim  still alive and
sellsible, though agonized with pain, felt a momentary motion
of pity. He ordered hIis servants to convey Mr. Johnson up
stairs to a bed, to send for a surgeon, and give immediate
notice of the accident to the wounded man's family.' When
Mr. Johnson's daughter came to tle house, she was met by the
earl, who told her lie had shot her father on purpose, and with
deliberation. The salme declaration he made to the surgteon,
on his arrival. I-He stood by  inm  while he examined the
wound, described the manner in which the ball had penetrated,
and seelned surprised that it should be lodged within the body.
When he demanded tlme surgeon's opinion of the wound, the
operator thought proper to temporize, for his own safety as
well as for the sake of thle public, lest the earl should take some
otfler desperate step, or endeavor to escape.  He supported
his spirits by immodelrate drinking, after having retired to
another apartment with the surgeon, whom he desired to take all
possible care of his patient. He declared, however, that he did
inot repent of what he had done; that Johnson was a villain, whoe
deserved to die; that, in case of his death, he (the earl) would
surr~endelr himself to- the House of Peers and take his tria]).
lie said lhe could justify the action to hlis own conscience, and
owned Iiis intention was to have killed Johnson outright; but,
as he still survived, and was in pain, he desired that all possible means may be used for hlis recovery.  Nor did lhe seem
altogether neglectful of his own safety; he endeavored to tamper with the surgeon, and sugoest -what evidence he should
give, when called befotre a court of justice. He continued to
dril)k hilnself into a state of intoxication, and all thle cruelty
of his lhate seemed to return. tie would not allow the wounded
man to be removed to his own house; saying, hle wonld keep him
under his own roof, that he might plague the villain.  He returned to the chamber where Johnson lay, insulted him  with




EARL FERRERS' MURDER OF HIS STEWARD          425
the most opprobrious language, threatened to shoot him
through the head, and could hardly be restrained from  committing farther acts of violence on the poor man, who was already in extremity.  After lie retired to bed, the surgeon procured a sufficient number of assistants, who conveyed TMr.
Johlnson in an easy chair to his own house, where he expired
that same morning in great agonies. The same surgeon assembled a number of armed men to seize the murderer, who at
first threatened resistance, but was soon apprehended, endeavoring to make his escape, and committed to the county prison.
From thence he was conveyed to London- by the gaoler of
Leicester, and conducted by the usher of the black-rod and
his deputy into the House of Lords, where the coroner's inquest, and the affidavit touching the murder, being read, the
goaler delivered up his prisoner to the care of the black-rod,
and he was immediately commnitted to the Tower.  He appeared very calm, comnposed, and unconcerned, from the time
of his being apprellended; conversed coolly on the subject of
h]is inpl)risoninent; made very pertinerlt remarks upon the nature of the habeas corpus (ct of parliament, of which lie hoped
to'avail lhimseltf; and when they withdrew  from  the House
ofPeers, desired he might not be visited by any of his relations or acquaintances.  His understanding, which was
naturally good, had been well cultivated; his arguments were
rationsl, but his conduct was frantic.
The lord-keeper Henley was appointed lord high-steward for
the trial of Earl Ferrers, and sat in state with all the peers
and jud-es in W estmlinster HIall, which was for this purpose
converted into a very august tribunal. On the 16th day of
April, the delinquent was tried, in the midst of an infinite
concourse of people, including many foreigners, who seemed
wonderfully struck with the magnificence and solemnity of the
tribunal.  The murder was fully proved; but the earl pleaded
insanity of mind; and, in order to establish this plea, called
many witnesses to attest his lunacy in a variety of instances,,
which seemed too plainly to indicate a disordered imagination;
Infoundell jealousy of plots and conspiracies, unconnected
ravings, fits of musing, incoherent ejaculations, sudden starts
of fury, denunciations of unprovoked revenge, frantic gesticula.
tions, and a strange caprice of temper, were proved to have
distinguished his conduct and deportment. It appeared that




426               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
lunacy had been a family taint, and affected divers of his lordship's relations; that a solicitor of reputation had renounced
his busin.ess on the full persuasion of his being disordered in his
brain'; that, long before'this unhappy event, his nearest relations had deliberated upon the expediency of taking out a cornmission of lunacy against hbim, and were prevented by no other
reason than the apprehension of being convicted of scancdalum
magnatum, should the jury find his lordship compos m,entis; a
circumstance, which, in all probability, would have happened,
inasmuch as the earl's mIadness did not appear in his conversation, but in his conduct. A physician of eminence, whose
practice was confined to persons laboring'ander this infirmity,
declared, that the particulars of the earl's deportment and personal behavior seemed to indicate lunacy. Indeed, all his
neighbors and acquaintances had long considered him as a
madman; and a certain noble lord declared in the House of
Peers, when the bill of separation. was on the carpet, that he
looked upon him in the liight of a maniac; and that, if some
effectual step was not taken to divest him of the power of doing
misclhief, he did not doubt that one day they should have
occasion to try him for murder. The lawyers who managed
the prosecution  in behalf of the crown, endeavored to invalidate the proofs of his lunllacy, by observing, that his lordship was never so much deprived of his reason but that he
conld distinguish between good and evil: that the murder he
lhad comnmitted was the effect of revenge for a conceived injury
of some standing; that the malice was deliberate, and the plan
artfully conducted; that, immediately after the deed was perpetrated, the: earl's conversation and reasoning were cool and
consistent, until he drank himself into a state of intoxication;
that, in the opinion of the greatest lawyers, no criminal can
avail himself of the plea of lunacy, provided the crime be conimitted duriIg a lucid interval; but his lordship, far from exhibiting any marks of insanity, had, in the course of his trial,
displayed uncommon understanding and sagacity in examining
the witnesses, and making many shrewd and pertinent obse.rvations on tlme evidence which was given. These sentirnents were conformable to the opinion-of the Peers, who
nanimnously declared him guilty.
The trial lasted for two days; and on the third the.lord
steward, after having made a short speech touching the heinous




EARL FERREfRSS MURDER OF HIS STEWARD.    4-27
nature of the offence, pronounced the same sentence of death
upon the earl which the malefactors of the lowest class undergo:
that from the Tower, in which he was imprisoned, he should'
on the Mlornday following, be led to the common place of executioln, there to be h.anged by the neck, and his body to be afterward dissected and anatomized. This last part of the sentence
seemed to shock the criminal extremely; he changed color, his
jaw quivered, and he appeared to be in great agitation; but
during the remaining part of his life he behaved with surprising, composure, alid even unconcern.  After he had received sentence, the lords, llis judges, by virtue of a power
vested in them, respited his execution for one month, that he
might have time to settle his temporal and spiritual concerns.
Before sentence was passed, the earl read a paper, in whicl he
begged pardon of their lordships for the trouble he had given,
as well as for having, against his own inclination, pleaded
lunacy at the request of his fiiends. He thanked them for the
candid trial with which he had been indulged, and intreated
their lordships to reconmmnend him to the king for mercy. He
afterwards sent a letter to his majesty, remonstrating that he
was the representative of a very ancient and honorable fanimily, which had been allied to the crown; and requesting that,
if he could not be favored with the species of death which in
cases of treason distingushes the nobleman from the plebeian,
lie might at least, out of consideration for his family, be allowed
to suffer in tile Tower, rather thlan at the common place of execution; but this indulgence was refused. From his return to
the Tower to the day of his execution, he betrayed no mark
of apprehension or imnpatience; but regulated his affairs with
precision, and conversed without concern or restraint.
On the 5tlh day of May, his body being demanded by the
sheriffs at the Tower-gate, in consequence of a writ under the
great seal of England, directed to the lieutenant of the Tower,
his lordship desired pernmission to go in his own landau; and
appeared gayiy dressed in a light-colored suit of clothes, embroidered with silver. He was attended in the landau by one
of the sheriffs and the chaplain of the Tower, followed by the.
chariots of the sheriffs, a nmourning coach and six filled with
his friends, and' a hearse for the conveyance of his body. He
was guarded by a posse of constables, a party of horse-grenadiers, and a detachment of infantry; and in. this manner the
27




428               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
procession moved from the Tower, through an infinite concourse of people, to Tybur-l, where the gallows, and the scaffold
erected under it, appeared covered with black baize. The earl
behaved with great composure to Mr. Sheriff Vaillant, who attended him in the landau: lie observed, that the gayety of his
apparel might seem odd on such an occasion, but that he had
particular reasons for wearing that suit of clothes; he took
notice of the. vast multitude  which crowded around him,
blougllt thither, he supposed, by curiosity, to see a nobleman
hanged; he told the sheriff he had applied to the king by
letter, that he nmigllt be permitted to die in the Tower, where
tlhe Earl of Essex, onle of his. ancestors, had been beheaded ia
the reign of Queen Elizabeth; an application which, he said,
he had made with the more confidence, as he had the honor to
quarter part of his majesty's arms, He expressed some displeasure at being executed as a commnon felon, exposed to the
eyes of sich a mnultitude. The chaplain, who had never been
admlitted to himn before, hlinting that some account of his lordship's sentiments on religion would be expected by the public,
made answer that lie did not think himself accountable to the
public for hlis private sentiments: that lie had always adored
one God, the creator of the universe; and with respect to any
particular opinion of' his own, he had never propagated them,
or endeavQred to make proselytes, because he thougilt it was
criininial to disturb the established religion of his country, as'
Lord Bolinrgbroke  had done by the publication of his writings.
Wlien he aplproaclled the place of execution, he expressed an
earniest deidre to see and take leave of a certain person who
waited in a coach, a personl for whom he entertained the most
s'incere regard and affectionl; but the sheriff prudently observing tlhat sucil an interview miglht shock him, at a time when he
lhad occasinll tor all his fortit.ude and recollection, lie acquiesced
in tile justiess of tlle remnark, and delivered to him a pocketbook, a ring, and a purse, desiring they might be given to tllat
person, whoin hie now declined seeing.  On his arrival at Tyburn, he calne out of the landau, anld ascended the scaffold
withl a firm step' and undaunted countenance.  ite refused to
join the cliaplain. ii. his devotions; but kneeling with him onl
black cushlions, he repeated the Lord's prayer, which he said
lie had always admllired; and added with great erjery, " 0
Lord, forgive me all my errors, pardon all my sins."  After




THE RED BARN TRAGEDY.                 429
this exercise, he presented his watch to Mr. Sheriff Vaillant;
thanked him and the other gentlemen for all their civilities;
and signified llis desire of being buried at Breden, or Stanton,
in Leicestershire.  Finally, he gratified the executioner with a
purse of money; then, tile halter being adjusted to his neck,
he stepped upon a little stage, erected upon springs, on the
middle scaffold; and the cap being pulled over his eyes, the
sheriff made a sigrnal, at which the stage fell from under his
seet, and lie was left suspended.  His boldy, having hung an
hour and five minutes, was cut down, placed in the hearse, and
conveyed to the public theatre for' dissection; where, being
opened, and lying for some days as the subject of a public lecture, at length it was carried off and privately interred.
THE RED BARN TRAGEDY.
MURDER OF MARIA MARTEN. —TRIAL, CONVICTION AND EXECUTIOI
OF THE ASSSSIN, WILLIAM CORDER.
The murder for which this criminal underwent condign punisllment equalled in cold-llooled atrocity any of tile murders
that are recorded in this work.
Maria -Malrten, the victim, was born in Julvy, 1801, and was
the daughter of a mole catcher, at Polstead, in Suffolk, England,
throughll wh(om shle received an education far superior, to her
situation in life. Possessed of more than ordinary personal advantages, she was beset by adnirers, and tile result was that she
lost her character as a virtuous young woman; a second act of
imprudence with a gentleman of fortunle, residing at no great
distance from her father's cottage, resulted in the birth of a
cllild; and about tile year' 1826 she formed an improper connexion with Corder, the son of a respectable farmer at Polstead,
who afterwards became iher in urderer.




430               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
The conseqluence of this intercourse between Maria Marten
and him was that she again became pregnant, and from  that
time lie professed to have become much attached to her, and
was a frequent.visitor at lier father's house.  The child which
she bore died within a short period of its birth, and, from  the
fact of its having died'without any known previous illness,
and of Corder having disposed of the body in a manner which
he never would explains, a suspicion was current that it had
come unfairly by its death. However much this notion may
have prevailed after the subsequent apprehension of Corder,
it does not appear that any evidence was ever produced to support it; but it transpired that the unhappy girl made use of
the circumstance as a means of endeavoring to coerce Corder
to fulnil a promise which he had made, that he would marry
her.
On the 18th of iMay, 1827, Corder called at the house of old
Marten, expressed his willingness that the ceremony should
be performied and added that, to save time, and to keel) the
marriage us l)rivate as possible, he had made up his mind to
have it celebrated by license. The next day was appointed
for the wedding, and he persuaded the young woman to attire
hlerself in a suit of his clothes, so as to secure the greatest
se(.resy, and to accompany him to a part of his premises called
the Red Barn, where she could exchange them for her own,
and firom whence lie would convey her in a gig, which he had
in readiness, to a church at Ipswich. She having consented
to this singular proposition, Corder quitted the house, and was
soon after followed by his intended victim, who carried with
lier the clothes in which she expected to appear at church.
In the course of a conversation between Corder and the mother,
before going away, he repeatedly declared his intention to
make the g rl his wife, and he urged as a reason why the wredding should take place at once, that he knew a warrant had
been issued against her for her illegitimate children. Within
a few minutes after Corder had quitted the house, he was seen
by Maria's brother walking in the direction of the Red Barn
with a pick-axe over his shoulder; but from this time nothing
was heard of the young woman, execpt through Corder himself,
who remained for some time at his mother's house at Polstead.
The return of Maria Ma-ten had been expected by her parents
in a day or two, but as she had, on former visits to Corder,




TEE RED BARN TRAGEDY.               431
been absent for uncertain periods, little anxiety was felt at
her non-appearance, more especially as he had stated that he
should procure a temporary lodging for her.  A fortnight,
however, having elapsed, her mother began to question Corder, who assured lier that lier daughter was quite safe and
well, but that he had placed lier at some distance, lest his friends
should discover the fact of his marriage, of which all parties
knew they would not approve. Having thus from time to time
evaded the inquiries niade of him, he, avowing himself to be
in ill health, in September departed from  suffolk, with the
professed object of visiting( the continent; but, before quitting
Pol-tead lhe had taken good care that the Red Barn should be
amply stored. II- took with him about ~400 in Inoney; and
the several letters which were transmitted by him  to his
widowed mother, as well as those which he sent to tlhe Martens,
were dated from tle Isle of Wight, in Iwhich place he informed
the latter their daughter was living with him. It Was noticed,
however, that these letters, though so dated, always bore the
London postmark; and as no communication was received
from the daughter herself, the Miartens, who had already had
strong suspicions regarding their daughter's saety, became exceedingly uneasy and dissatisfied.  The circumstances which
eventually led to the discovery of Corder's atrocity are of so
extraordinary and marvellouls a character, as almost to manifest an especial interposition of Providence in bringing to light
the offence and the offender. In the month of March of the
following year (1828), Mrs. Marten dreamed, on three successive niglits, that her daughter lad been murdered and buried
in the Red Barn!! Terrified at the three-fold repetition of
the vision, an undefined su!spicion took full possession of her
mind; and so convinced did she become of the truth of the
augary, that on Saturday, the 19th of April, she persuaded her
husband to apply for permission to examine the Red Barn.
The grain which had been there deposited bad by this time
been removed, and old Marten, permission being given, proceeded in his search. He applied himself to the spot pointed
out to his wife in her dream, and there he speedily turned up
a piece of the shawl which he knew his daughter had with her
when she quitted home. Prosecuting his search, he found at
the depth of eighteen inches part of a human body. Horrorstricken, lie staggered from the spot; but, on subsequently re



432                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
neswing his painful labor, he felt convinced that his wife's surmises were well fotlnded, and that the remains which' he had
thus discovered were indeed those of his long-lost child.  The
body was in an advanced state of decomposition, but tlhe dress
and some peculiarities in the teeth afforded sufficient proofs of
its identity.
Thle whole neighborhood was, of course, thrown into dismay
at this most extraordinary discovery, and informatiorl of' the
fact was forwarded to thle coroner.  The body underwent a
s-llgical examination by Mlr. John Lawden, who proved to the
jllry assembled to investigate the circumnstances, that there
wvere sufficient appearances yet remaining to indicate that the
dece.lsed had met with a violent death.  HIe said that there
were visible signs of blood on the face and clotlhes, and also on
a handkerchief round the neck of the deceased.-that the
lhandkerchief appeared to have been tied extrlemely tight, and
bIeneath the folds a wound was visible in hler throat, evidently
inflicted by some sharp instrument.  There was also a wound
in the orbit of the right eye, and it seemed as if something
had been thrust in which had fractured the small bones, and
penetrated the briain.  The body, when found, was partly envelped in a sack, and had on a shift, flannel petticoat, stays,
stockings, anld shoes.
As may be supposed, all eyes were at once directed to Corder as thle murderer, and information having been dispatched
to Llondon, Lea, a police officer, commenced an active pursuit
of' lhim.  Ii the meanwhile, as it afterwards transpired. Corder
had married a most respectable female,  with whom  lhe had
Ibecomle acquainttcd by means of advertising in the newspapers.
Revolting as this mode of procuring a matritnonial alliance
macy appear to the delicate-minded, it is nevertheless a fact
that hlis advertisement proclured hundreds of answers, a vast
proprtion of which retmained ulnopened in the hands of the
respectable stationer in the city of London, wllo had been indl ced to receive them, long after Colder had made his election in favor of the lady who, so unhappily for herself, had
bleiided lier fortunles with his. Lea, the officer, traced Corder
fi',n.llplace to place, and at length learnled that he resided at
Glove House, Ealinlg Lane, near Brentford, where, in conjunction with his wife, he wazs carrying on a school for yoinn(/
ladies. It was necessary to emnploy some dey-ree of stratagem




THE RED BARN TRAGEDY.               433
to obtain admission to the house-and Lea, on presentinghimself, stated that he had a daughter whom he wished to place in
the school.'He was invited into the parlor, and there found
the object of his search at breakfast with four ladies. He was
in his dressing-gown, and had his watch before him, as he was
boiling some eggs. Lea called him aside, and, after telling
him that lhe had,a serious charge against him, asked if he was
net acquainted with Maria Marten, of Polstead 8  Corder replied in the negative, saying also that he never heard of such
a person, even by name. He was then secured, and -the house
searched, when a brace of pistols, a powder-flask, and some
balls were found in a velvet bag, which, on being shown to
Mrs. Marten, was identified as having been in the possession
of her daughter when she last quitted home. A sharp-pointed
dagger was also -found, and this was identified by aperson
namned Offord, a cutler, as one which he had ground for the
prisoner a few days before the murder.,Corder was conducted
to Polstead to undergo an examination before the coroner, and
the greatest anxiety was evinced by the vast crowds assembled
to catch a glimpse of him. He was dreadfully agitated, and
the circumstances which we have described having been deposed to by various witnesses, a verdict of "Wilful murder"
was the result.
The prisoner was thereupon committed to the county gaol to
await his trial; but he had hardly been lodged within its walls
before a new charge, namely, that of forgery upon the Manningtree Bank, was laid against him.  It appears, however,
that through the intervel tion of his friends this was eventually
com-p:~romised.  His wife, upon his first apprehension, was under an impression that the offence imputed to him was that of
bigamy, but shle was soon informed of the real nature of the
allegations. Previous ti his trial, she visited him nearly every
day, and she continued to declare her belief that the statements in the papers were untrue, and that he would eventually
be relieved by a jury ol his countrymen from the foul calumnies which were publislled against him.
Thursday, the 7th of August following, was appointed for
the trial, and the desire to witness the proceedings, or to obtain early information relating thereto, was manifested by the
hundreds of well-dressed persons of both sexes assembled about
the court-house.




434               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
Nor was public curiosity confined to the court-llouse. A
multitude had early gathered round the door of the gaol, and
along the road leading thence to the Shire Hall, to get a view
of the accused. He was conducted from the gaol at a quarter
betSre nine o'clock, being attired in a new suit of black, which
he had put on with much care, and having his hair combed
over his forehead, which lie lad previously worn bruslhed up in
front. Upon being called from his cell, lie made some inquiries as to the number of witnesses to be called against him, and
also as to the judges by whom he was to be tried; and his que
ries having been answered, he exclaitiied, ", Well, whatever may
be my fate, I shall meet it with fortitude."  He was removed
in a chaise-cart from the gaol to tile place of trial, and,although
he hlung down his head' all the way, he seemed little affected
by the shouting and groanillg with which he was assailed on all
sides. On being taken to the felon's room, beneath the building, lhe remarked to Mr. Orridge, the governor of the prisoni
" What a great number of persons! I scarcely ever saw such a
crowld."  At a quarter past ten o'clock, the prisoner was placed
at the bar. For a few moments he conversed with his solicitor,
bnt then lie looked up to the bench, and bowed respectfully.
On account of the number of clhallenges made by the prisoner,
it was some time before a jury was etnpannelled.  At length,
hlowever, tlme prisoner was arraigned.  T:,e indictment contained ten counts. In the first the,murder was alleged to have
been committed by the prisoner on the 18th of May, 1827, by
discharging a pistol, loaded with powder and shot, upon Maria
ZMarten, and thereby giving her a mortal wound on the left
side of the face; and that by those means, wilfully, feloniousiy, and of lhis malice aforethought, he caused the death of the
said Maria Marten. The second count laid the offence as having been committed by striking the deceased withl a sword upol) tile left side of the body, between the fifth and sixth ribs,
and thereby giving her a mortal wound, of which shlie instantly
died; the third count stated that the murder was committed
by striking the deceased with a sword on the left side of the face;
the f:urthll, that it was done by sticking and stabbing her with a
sword on the right side of the nleck; tile fifth, that the prisoner fastened a handkerchief alround her neck, and thereby choked
her; tlhe sixth, that lhe killed her by discharging a gun, 1,aded
with powder and shot, on the left side of i er face; the




THE RED BARN TRAGEDY.                435
seventh, that he pushed and thrust her into a hole made in the
floor of a barn, and, by covering her with large quantities o0
earth and gravel, suffocated and choked her; the eighth was
only tecllnically different from the preceding one; the ninth
laid the offence,to have been committed by the joint means ot
sticking the deceased with a sword on the left side, and fastening a handkerchief round her neck; tJhe tenth described it as
being done by the joint force of all the felonious acts laid in
the whole of the preceding counts —recapitulating the wounds,
stabbing, sllooting, strangulation, and smothering, as the cause
of the death of the deceased.
The prisoner having pleaded "Not Guilty," in a firm  and
distinct voice, the trial coinmenced.  The evidence developed
the circumstances as we hlave detailed theml.  The first and
sixth counts of the indictment were sustained by proving that
at the title of the discovery of' cilhe body marks were distinctly
visible, which showed that she had xeceived a wound from  a
pistol or a gun-shot, and it was also proved by the brother of
the deceased, that the prisoner, at the tirne of quitting the
house of old Marten, on the day of the murder, carried a gun.
A number of letters, written to the deceased's father by the
prisorler, in reference  to  his intended  marriage with his
daughter, were also put in.
On  beivng called upon for his defence, Corder read a manuscript paper in a low and tremulous tone. He declared' that
he deeply deplored the death of the, unfortunate deceased;
and lhe urged the jury to dismiss frorm their minds all that
prejudice which Inust necessarily have been excited against
him, by the foul imputations of the public press. IHe admitted
that the evidence was fraught with suspicion against him; but
he trusted iii being able to give such an explanation of the circumstances as would develop, to their satisfaction, the real facts
of tile case. He then proceeded to say " No ma;ln regrets more
sincerely than I do the death of the unfortunate Maria, the circumstatices attendingi, which I am  now abolit to state; and
much have I to re:ret that I for a moment concealed thetn,
but I did so becau-tse I was stupefied and horror-struck at the
time, and knew not how to act.  You have heard of the nature
of mny connection with the unfortunate Maria; that connection
was contrary to the W ill of my mother, and to conceal her situation, I took lodgings for her at Sadbury, where she was con



436              REMARKABLE TRIALS.
fined. In the usual time she returned to her father's house;
in a fortnight after which thle infant died; not, as has been intirmated, by violence, but a. natural death. Being anxious to
conceal the circumstances fron my friends and neighbors, it
was agreed between her father, and mother, and myself, that
Mlaria and I should bury the child in the fields, and we took it
away for that purpose. After this Maria returned to my house
at Polestead; and by means of a private staircase I took her to
my own room, where she remained concealed for two days.
The pistols which have been spoken of were hanging up in the
room, loaded. I had before that shown her the use of them,
and on returning to her f'ather's, she, by some means unknown
to me, contrived to get the pistols into her possession. It is
well known that at that period Maria was much depressed in
spirits, and was anxious that I should marry her, although I
had reason to suspect that she was at the time in correspondence with a gentleman in London by whom she had had a child.
My friends objected to the nmatch, and I declined it at that
time. But although poor Maria's conduct was not altogether
free from blame, I was much attached to her, and at length
agreed to her wishes; and it was arranged that we should go
to Ipswich and obtain a license for that purpose  Whether I
did or did not say anything about a:warrant having been issued
by the parish officers for her apprehension, I cannot now pretend to say; but if I did, it must have been because such a
report was abroad at the time:It was agreed that Maria should
go in male attire to the Red Barn so often mentioned in the
course of the trial. Yot have heard from the mother of the
unfortunate Maria, that she and I bad had words. As we
proceeded to the barn she was in tears. To that barn we
had often repaired before, and frequently passed the night
there. When we reached the barn, words arose, and Maria
flew into a passion. I told her that, if we were to be married,
and to live together, she must not. go on so. Much conversation ellsued, and on changing her dress, she at length told me,
that if we were married we should never be happy togetherthat I was too proud to marry her and take her to my mother's,
and that she did not regard me. I was highly irritated, and
asked ler, if she was to go on this way before marriage, what
was I to expect after? She again upbraided me, and being in
a passion, I told her that I would not marry her, and turned




THE RED BARN TRAGEDY.              437
from the barn, but I had scarcely reached the gate when a repout of a pistol reached my ears. I returned to the barn, and
with horrlor beheld the unfortunate girl extended on the floor,
apparently dead: I was for a short time stupefied with hon'or,
and knew not what to do. It struck me to run for a surgeon;
and well would it have been for me had I done so. But I
raised the unfortunate girl, in order, if possible, to afford her
some assistance; but I found her altogether lifeless; and, to
my horror, I discovered that the dreadful act had been corn
mitted by one of my own pistols, and that I was the only
person in existence who could tell how the fatal act took place.
The sudden alarm which seized me suspended my faculties,
and it was some time before I could perceive the awful situation in which I was placed, and- the suspicions which must naturally arise from  my having delayed to make the circumstances instantly known. I, at length, thought that concealment
was: the only means by which I could rescue myself from the
horrid imputation; and I resolved to: bury the body as well as
I was able. Having done so, I subsequently accounted for her
absence in the manner described by the witnesses, saying sonwetimes one thing to one person, and at other times other things
to another. I may be asked why, if innocent of the crime imputed to nle, I felt it necessary to give those answers?  To
which I answer, that some persons are driven to do acts from
fear which others do from guilt, which is precisely the case
with inc in this instance. It may be asked, too, why I have
not called evidence to prove the facts [ have stated; but, gentlemen, I put it to you whether things do not sometimes take
place which are only known to the parties between whom they
happen; and what direct proof can I give when the only
person: who knew of these facts is no more? I can for the
same reason give no direct proof of the unhappy woman's having
got possession of my pistols. I say pistols, because I found
the other.- loaded pistol in the unfortunate Maria's reticule.
As to the stabs and other wounds described by the witnesses,
I can only say that no stab or cut was given by Maria or
myself; and I firmly believe that the surgeon would never
have sworn to them, were it not for the circumstances of a
sword havming been- found in the room in which I was arrested.
If any stab did appear upon the body, it must have been done
with the instruments used in disinterring it."




438               REMA.RKABLE TRIALS.
Numerous witnesses were then called. who spoke to the prisoner's general good character. The judge summed up, and a
verdict of Guilty was returned.  At this awful crisis the prisoner was first observed to raise his handkerchief to hlis eyes;
and during the subsequent passing of the sentence of death he:
was dreadfully affected.  On his return to the gwaol he apparently recovered his spirits, but his only desire which hle expressed was, that lie should be permitted to see his wife.  To
this request an immediate assent was given, and at two o'clock
on the next day shle was admitted.  The meneting was of a
most distressing character, and it lasted nearly an hour. During that evening Corder was constantly attended by the reverend chaplain, but he showed no inclination to confess. On
the following day, [Sunday] he attended the chapel in the
customary manner, and during the performance of the service
appeared deeply affected. On his return to his cell, he threw
himnself upon his bed and wept bitterly for a considerable time.
In the course of the afternoon, it was hinted to him that his defence coul.d never be credited; but he replied to the effect that
" Confession to God was all that was necessary, and that confession to man was what he called popedo-m or poprey, and he
never would do it.' It was subsequently suggested to himn
that he must hve hve had great nerve to dig the grave while the
body lay in his sight, when his reply wa.s,, "Nobody knows
that the body lay in the barn and in sight, whilst I dug the
hole;" but tlhen, suddenly checking himself, he exclaimed, " 
God! nobody will dig my grave.' In the course of the afternoon, he had a second and last interview  with his wife, and
the scene Was truly heartreniing.  He expressed the most
anxious fears' with.regard to the manner in which she would
in future be looked upon by the wo.ld; and implored her,
should she ever marry again, to be cautious how she accepted
a proposition reaching her throllgh a public advertiselnen-t.
The parting scene was most dreadful, and the wretched woman
was carried away from the cell in a state of stupor. After
Mrs. Corder had finally departed, the governor made the
strongest efforts to induce Corder to confess, pointing out to
him  the great aggravation of his crilne, should he quit the
world still denying his guilt. Corder at length exclaimed,
" O, sir, I wish 1 had made a confidant of you before; I often
wished to have done it, but you know, sir, it was of no use to




THE RED BARN TRAGEDY.                439
employ a legal adviser and then not follow his advice."  The
governor assented to the propriety of his advice, and his acting
on it up to the time of conviction, but that now all eartllly consideration should cease.  The wretched prisoner then exclaimed, " I am a guilty man," and immediately afterwards
made the following contession:"Bury Gaol, August 10, 1828, in Condemned Cell,
Sunday Evening, half-prast 11.
" I acknowledge being guilty of the death of poor Maria, by
shooting her with a pistol. The particulars are as follows:
When we left her fatther's house, we began quarrelling about
the burial of the child, she apprehending that the place
wherein it was deposited mould be found out. The quarrel
continued for about three quarters of an hour, upon this and
about other subjects- A scuffle ensued, and during tlle scuffle,
and at thle timne I think tlhat she had hold of me, I tok te;a
pistol fiom the side-pocket of my velveteen jacket, and fired.
She fell, and died in an instant. I nev'er saw even a strulggle.
1 was overwhelmed with acitatio(n and dismay-the body fell
near the front doors oni the floor of the barn. A vast quantity
of blood issued fiom  the wound, and ran on to the floor and
through the crevices. Having determined to bur. tle body
in the barn (about two hours after she was dead), I wenlt antld
borrowed thie spade of Mrs. Stowe; but befo:re I went there, I
dragged the body fiomn tile barn into the chlaff-house, and
locked up tile barn. I returned agaiI: to the barn, and bergan
to dig the hole; but the spade being a bad one, and thle earth
firm and hard, I was obliged to go home for a pick-axe and a
better spade, with wlhich I dug tile hole, and then buried thle
body. I think I dragged the body by the handkelrchllief tllat
was tied round her neck  It was dark when I finished covering up the body. I went the next day and washed the blood
from off the barn door. I declare to Allnighty God 1 had no
sharp instrument about me, and that no other wound but tlle
one made by the pistol was inflicted by me. I have beell
guilty of great idleness, and at times led a dissolute' life, but I
hope through the mercy of God to be forgiven.
"W. CORDER.
" Witness to the signing by the said William Corder,' JOHN ORRIDGE."
On the next morning the confession was read over to the
prisoner, and he further said, in answer to a question put to
him by the under-sheriff, that he thought the ball entered the
right eye.




440               REMARIABLE TRIALS.
He subsequently appeared much easier in his mind, and attended divine service in the chapel immediately before his
being carried out for execution. As allusions were made in
the prayers to his unhappy situation, he appeared convulsed
with' agony; although he appeared calm, his limbs gaver up
their office, and he was obliged to be carried to his cell.
At a few minutes before twelve o'clock he was removed
from his dungeon, and conveyed to the press-room, where he
was pinioned in the usual way. He was so weak as to be unable to stand without support. On his cravat being removed
he groaned heavily, and appeared to be laboring under great
mental agony. When his wrists and arms were made fast, he
was led round towards the scaffold; and as he passed the dif;
ferent yards in which the prisoners were confined, he shook
hands with most, and speaking to two of them by name, he
said, "Good bye, God bless you!" They were considerably
affected at the wretched appearance which he made; and
"God bless you!"  "MIay God receive your soul!" were
frequently uttered. The prisoner was supported up the steps
which led to the scaffold; he looked somewhat wildly around,
and a constable was obliged to support him while the hanginan
was adjusting the fatal cord. A few seconds before the drop
fell he groaned heavily, and would have fallen, had not a second constable caught hold of him. After the drop had fallen
lhe did not struggle; but he raised his hands once or twice, as
as if in prayer; the hangman pulled his legs, and he was in a
moment motionless. In about nine minutes, however, his
shoulders appeared to raise in a convulsive movement; but
life was said to have long left him. Just before he was turned
off, he uttered, in a f-eeble tone, " I am justly sentenced, and
may God forgive rie."  Mr. Orridge then informed the crowd
that the prisoner acknowledged the justice of his sentence,
and died in peace with all men.
The mob collected on this occasion amounted to many thousands, and occupied every spot of ground from which a
g!i'mpse could be obtained. A considerable portion consisted
of w,men; and as soon as the execution was over, vast num
bers proceeded to the Shire Hall, to obtain a view of the body,
which, it was understood, would be exhibited.
Accordingly, at two o'clock, the body was exposed on a;
table in the centre of the hall; it was naked from the navel




THE RED B:ARN TRAGEDY.                441
upwards. The crucial operation had been performed, and the
skin of the breast and stomaclh turned back on each side. Tile
body measured, as it lay, five feet five inches in length, and
presented a very muscular appearance. The face and throat
were somewhat swollen and discolored, the right eye was open,
and the: left partially so; the mouth was also open sufficiently
to show the teeth. These are the ordinary appearances of
those who have died by execution. On the next day the body
was delivered to the hospital for dissection, in pursuance of
the sentence.
After the execution a spirited bidding took place for the
rolpe, and as much as five dollars an inch was obtained for it!
Large sums were offered for the pistols and dagger used in the
murder; but the sheriff, they being his perquisites, very properly refused to part with them in such a way. A piece of the
skin of the wretched malefa ctor, which had been tanned, was
exhibited for a long time afterwards at the shop of a leatherseller in Oxford street!
In conclusion, we are bound to say tlhlt little credit was attached to the confession made on the night before the execution; fbir, looking at all the facts, there can be little doubt that
the murder was the result of premeditation. No one can doubt
the purpose of his carrying pistols on the supposed day of his
nuptials, l(oaded as they were. That Maria Marten was enticed
to the Red Barn for the sole purpose of being there murdered,
is too clearly evidenced by this one fact. Frightful, however,
as was his crime, and awful the treachery hy which he accomplished it, it w.s hardly less premeditated and wicked than
the proceeding by which he succeeded in inducing a virtuous
worman to ally her destinies to a man known, at all events, to
his own conscience, as a murderer.
The following is a copy of the advertisement through which
Corder obtained hlis wife4' A private gentleman, aged twenty-four, entirely independent, whiose disposition is not to be exceeded, has lately lost
the chief of his family by the hand of Providence, which has
occasioned amongst the remainder circumstances the most disagreeable to relate.  To any female of respectability, who
would study for domestic comnfort, and who is willing to confide hier future happiness to one in every way qualified to render the marriage state desirable, as the advertiser is in affiu



442                REMARKABLE TRIALS.'ence. Many,lappy marriaires have taken l)l]tce through means
similar to this now resorted to. It is ]hoped none vwiil answer
th-ougll impertinent curiosity; but should this 2neet the eye
of any agreeable lady who feels desirous of npeeting with a sociable, tentder, kind and -symlpathising companion, she will filld
this advertisement worthy of notice.  H(jnor and secrecy may
be depended on.  As some little security against idle application, it is requested that letters may be addressed [post paid,]
A. Z., care of Mr. Foster, stationer, 68 Leadenhall street, with
re~al n;ame and address. which will meet with most respectful
attentioln."
The following conversation in reference to this marriage is
said to have taken place after the conviction"Attendant-Pray, Mr. Colder, may I ask whether it is true
that it was by advertisement that you were first introduced to
Mrs. Corder?  Corder-It is perfectly trule.
"Did youll receive any answers to it?-I received no less
than forty-fi e answers, and some of them from ladies in their
carriages.
" Really! Well, that surprises mre.-It may well surprise
you, as it did myself, but I missed of a good clhance.
" Pray how was that?-I will tell you. In one of the answers which I received it was requested that I slhould attend a
partictllar churcll on an appointed day, dressed in a particular
way, and I should there nimeet a lady wearing a certain dress,
anld both understanding what we caine about, no further intro.
duction -would be necessary.
"But how could yon know  the particular lady, as there
lnight be another dressed in the same way? —Oh, to guard
against any mistake, the lady desired that I should wear
a black handkerchief, and have my left arm in a sling; and in
case I sllould not observe her, she should discover me, and introdulce therself:
" And did vou meet her? —I did not. I went to the church,
but nlot in time, as the semrvice was over when I got there.
"Then, as you did not imeet her, how could you tell that she
was a respectable woman?-Because the pew-opener told me
that such a lady was inquiringr for a gentleman of my description, and that she had comle in an elegant carriage, and was a
young woman of fortune.
" Then you iever saw hler afterwards?  No, never; but I
fiound out where she lived, and who, shle was, and would have
had an interview with her were it not thlat I was introduced
to Mrs. Corder, and we never parted nntil we were married.
"Pray, sir, was that long? —About a week.




MURDER OF A MLLER BY HIS WIFE AND CHILDREN. 4413
MURDER OF A MILLER BY HIS WIFE A.ND CHILDREN.
IN a narrow valley between the mountains in a region of
Germany (IVI. Fenerback, from whom are derived the materials
for this account, says, that important reasons compel him to
conceal the locality and the real names of the parties), about
340 paces from the last house of the neighboring village, lies
the Black Mill. In this lived, until the ninth of August, 1817,
the master miller, Frederick Kleinschrot, a hale hearty man of
sixty years of age. His business was profitable; his capital, in
money, amounted to between thirteen and fourteen thousand
florins. He had lived in wedlock with his wife, Barbara, thirty
years, and had had twelve children with her, five of whom, at
the tinme above-mentioned, were still living. His eldest son was
settled in another place; under the paternal roof were still the
second son, Conrad, then twenty-eight years of age, who had
the care of the mill; and two daughters-Margaret, twentythree years of age, and Kunigunda, approaching her eighth
year, who discharged the duties of a maid servant in her fatller's
house. Within the curtilage of the mill stood a separate cot or
building, tenanted by a day laborer named Wagner, and his
wife. A lad of thirteen, who slept in a stable, completed the
establishment. On the ninth of August, 1817, the miller suddenly disappeared, and had never been heard of since. On the
eleventh of October, in the same year, his wife notified the fact
of his disappearance to the magistrate of thle district, bv whose
direction some inquiries were instituted, but in vain. About a
year afterwards, a report was circulated that the miller had
been murdered in his mill. This report was clearly traceable




444:         REMARKABLE TRIALS.
to some words uttered by the day laborer Wagner, to one of his
fellow laborers, to the effect that the family at the mill was
completely in his power, and that whenever he wanted money,
they must give it him. This report derived strength from the
bad terms on which the miller was known- to have lived with
his family. It of course reached the ears of the magistrate, but
after a few examinations the inquiry was dropped, and a three
years' silence on the subject took place.,At the end of that
period, the magistrate was dismissed for misconduct, and a
functionary empowered, according to custom, -to deliver over
the office to the successor.  Scarcely had this functionary
entered upon the discharge of his duties, when a fire broke
out in the judicial registry, by which many of the documents there collected were destroyed.  It was suspected
that the late magistrate had some hand in bringing about
this conflagration, with the view  of rentdering his  own
malversations mnore difficult of detection.. Be this as it may,
the fire led to an active search for documents to supply those
that were missing or constumed, and amongst others a bundle
of papers relating to the missing miller came to light, and the
circumstances of suspicion detailed in these papers were such
as to make it evident that the late magistrate must have been
bribed to secresy. A fresh investigation was accordingly insti.
tuted, and at the first examination Wagner and his wife confessed that the miller had been murdered by his sons, with
his (Wagrner's) assistance, the wife and daughters being privy
to the crime. The body, they added, was buried in a fissure
of the rocks, near one of the fields of the deceased. The tyianny of tile deceased was stated as the only motive to the
deed, so far as the famnily were concerned. A  search immediately took place, and the remains of a man were found in
the place indicated by Wagner. At such a distance of time
the olly malk by which they could be directly identified was
the beauty of the teeth, for which the deceased had been re.
markable. The family were taken one by one to the grave,
and examined as to their knowledge of the remains. Conrad,
the elder of the two sons, the nlotnent he saw thie bommes,
exclaimed, without waiting to beqalestioned, " Aye, that is'mny
father!" and after a pause added, " but I amtn not the murderer."
Frederick, the other son, looked at them without any symnptom
of confusion, and replied, "What is this? well, what may this




"'JRDER OF A MILLER BY HIS WIFE AND CHILDREN. 44;
be? they are bones, but whether they be the bones of a man
or a beast, I know not; I know nothing of either."  The
youngest daughter, when she was conducted to the spot, cried
out: "I know nothing of it; I know that of my father; but
of this up here I know nothing; I am innocent, wholly innocent." When the eldest daughter's turn came, she also exclaimed: "Iam innocent of the deed-I am innocent. I knew
nothing of the matter till my father began to cry out fearfully;
but it was then too late. I have not had a quiet hour since.
Oh, God, what will become of us?'l
This of course rendered all further concealment nugatory,
and full confessions were soon after made by the criminals.
The recitals are affecting in the extreme. The wife and chil-dren were described by all who knew them  as kind, gentle
and amiable; whilst the father's character appears to have
been that rather of a demon than of a man. Vicious in every
relation of life, a bad son, a bad father, an unfaithfiul husband,
and a tyrannical master-he was proved to have beaten and
ill-treated his own father, when living, to such a degree as to
make it necessary for the old man to guard himself by bolts
and locks of more than ordinary strength: to have got his
maid-servant (with whom his own children were permitted to
see him in bed) with child, and then given her drugs to procure abortion; besides having several other bastard children,
whom he supported, whilst his legitimate family were kept in
the lowest state of want; and to have frequently beaten his
wife and children,. in a manner that left them maimed and mutilated for weeks. Thus, one of the day-laborers states, that
" the old miller suffered not a day to pass without falling either
upon his wife or his sons, availing himself for that purpose of
the first weapon that came to hand. He once struck his wife
such a blow with a hatchet, that she was obliged to carry her
arm in a sling for a fortnight." The daughter, Margaret, stated,
that her mother was deprived of half her reason, in consequence
of a blow on the head, received from her father fifteen years
before. As to servants, hardly any could be got to stay with
him at all, and he was constantly changing them. " Such a
monster (says the' youngest son, Frederick) was our father.
Alas! so long as we have been in this world, we have never
known either peace or jovy. Before our father's death we were
tormented by him, and since his death, tormented by our own




446               RPEMARKABLE TRIALS.
consciences." They applied to thle courts of law, but were told
that there was neither help nor counsel for them  there.  At
length the idea of being their own deliverers stole upon thein,
and they endeavored to get rid of their own oppression by a
chai'm. A pair of the miller's stockings were delivered to
Wagner's wife, who was to hang theml up in thle smoke, whereupon thle miller was expected to pine away and die.  After
waiting for some weeks the result of thlis experiment, more decisive means were resolved upon, and Wagner, on being
applied to, agreed to dispatch his master for 2.0 florils.  It
appears to be doubtful who first suggested the plan; Colwlad
accused his mother, but the mother herself asserted that it was
first suggested by the sons. It met at any rate witIl general
assen:; and Wagner undertook the colnmission with readiness.
Arming himself with a hatchet, he one nighlt took hlis post ill
the kitchen, throughl which the miller would be obliged to
pass in leaving Chis bed-chamber, and the sons agreed to set the
mnill goillg, tle noise of which wolld nlecessarily induce their
father to come out. The result was exactly as they lhad anticipated, and immediately on the miller's entering the kitcllen,
Wagner aliied a blow at his hlead with the hatchet, but missed
his head, and struck himn sornewhlere else.  Up:on titis the miller raised a horrible cry, and endeavored to fly back into his
bed-chain her, when  Wagner, throwing away the hatchet,
grappled witli him, and a violent and for sorie time doubtful
strigg'le took place, until Wagner bethought hiin of Iiis knife,
wlhichl, witihout letting go his liold, he m-lanaged to draw from
his waistcoat pocket, opened it by pressing it against his side,
and therI thrtlst the blade into the mniller's body.  Cornrad, the
eldest somi, uponl hearing the cry, rall into the kitchen.  HIis
ftther l:id already received the stab, but still kept hjis feet and
groaned.  Seeing tllis, Conrad took a billet of wood from  a
heap lying inl the kitchen, reached it fro;n bellind Wagner, and
then ran out again into tile street to see it' ail was safe.  Wager, whllo had let fall lhis knife, then struck the miller a blow
upon tle head Kwith the billet of wood, and knocked him d'own;
but as tlhe groans still'continued, he caught lip a stone that
was lyinig upon thle heartlh, and dashed it ag;inst the imiller's
head withl all his might, until tlhe stone broke to pieces.  And
now, for tile first timte, the groaning and moaning of tIle millei
was hlushled. The soins came into the kitcllen immll diately




MURDER OF A MILLER BY HIS WIFE AND CHILDREN. 447
afterwards, and assisted Wa(ner to carry the body into the
bed-roon.  Thlis being done, Wagner retired, it is said, to rest
himself after his job:  whil-t Conrad went up to his mother,
wailing and exclaitnilg: " Oh, mother, if it were but undone,
it should never be done at all."  She, herself, according to her
own confession, shed no tears for her husband, and entertained
a thoroughll conviction that God hianself must have inspired
lifelself and childre  n with the design of murdering her husband.
tWe almost fancy we helar her saying, like Beatrice, to her
judges:"What! will human lawsRather will ye, who are their ministersBar all access to retribution first,
And then, when Heaven doth interpose to do
What ye neglect, arming familiar things
To the redress of an unwonted crime,
Blake ye the victims who demanded it.
Culprits?'Tis ye are culprits! That poor wretch,
Who stands so pale and trembling and amazed,
If it be true he murdered Cenci, was
A sword in the right hand of justest God."
Tlhe sons had not attained to so comforting a conviction.
They aided Wagner to bury their father's body; the younger
even stamped the loose earth upon his grave; but the day before they had repaired together to a neighboring mountain,
faiilen upon their knees, bitterly repented them of the deed,
and prayed God to have mercy on their sills. The sentences
were as follows:-Wagner and Conrad to imprisonment in
irons for life, with civil death; Frederick to fifteen years' imprisonment in a penitentiary; the mnother to eight years' imprisonrnent in a penitentiary.  The daughters were acquitted.




448               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
THE  MARCHIONESS  OF  BRINVILLIERS, THE
POISONER.
There are few persons who have walked the thoroughfares
of London, who have not had their attention called to a small,
delicate, plump, little hand, dimpled and beautiful, exhibited
in the plaster-cast shops, for sale to artists as a model. Any
one taking it in his hand would be almost charmed into a be-lief that he was pressinlg that of a beautiful and amiable wo-mal. How would his feelings recoil, upon asking the question
to whom the original belonged, when told that it was Madame
de Brinvilliers, the famou.s poisoner!
The following account of this extraordinary and unfortunate
woman-we mnay surely speak of her as unfortunate, since it
is hardly possible to think of her as lhaving been moved by anything short of some inexplicable insanity to the commission of
those enormities of which she was guilty!-is compiled. from
the biographical dictionaries, wfth the addition of Madame
de Sevigne's lively notices of the affair, as it proceeded at
Paris. These greatly add to the interest of the narrative.
Marguerite d'Aubrai, Marchioness Brinvilliers, was born
at Paris in 1651, being the daughter of d'Aubrai, lieutenant civil of Paris, who married her to N. Gobelin, Marquis
of Brinvilliers. Although possessed of attractions to captivate lovers, she was for some time much attached to her husband; but at length became madly in love with a Gascon offi



THE MARCHIONESS OF BRINVILLIERS.        449
cer named Goder St. Croix, who had been introduced by the
Marquis, then the adjutant of the reciment of Normandy.
Her father being informed of this affair, imnplisoned the officer, who was altogether an adventurer, in the Bastile, where
he was detained for a year-a circumstance which induced
the Marchlioness to be more outwardly circumspect, but at the
same time to nourish the most implacable hatred to her father
and her whole family. While in the Bastile, St. Croix learned
from an Italian named Elixi, the art of composing the most
subtle and mortal poisons, and the result, on his release, was
the destruction, by this means, in concurrence with his mistress, of her father, sister, two brothers, and one of her own
children —all of whom  were poisoned the same year, 1760.
During all this time the Marchioness was visiting the hospital,
outwardly as a devotee, but, as afterwards strongly suspected,
really in order to try on the patients the effects of the poison
produced by her paramour.
The discovery of these monstrous criminals was made in a
very extraordinary manner.  While at work in distilling poison, St. Croix accidentally dropped the glass mask which he
wore to prevent inhaling the noxious vapor, and the consequence was his instant death. Nobody claiming his effects,
they fell into the hands of government; and the Marchioness
had the imprudence to lay claim to a casket, and appeared so
anxious to obtain it, that the authorities ordered it to be
opened; when it was found to be full of packets of poisons,
with ticketed descriptions of the effects they would produce.
Informed of the opening of the casket, the execrable woman
escaped to England, whence she passed to Liege, where she
was arrested and conducted to Paris.  Being tried, she was
convicted of the murder of her father, sister, and brothers, and
condemned to be beheaded and(i burnt.  In this dreadful situation, she evinced extraordinary courage, amounting almost to
nonchalance. On entering the chamber in which she was to
be put to the question, by the torture of swallowing water, she
observed three bucketsfull prepared, and exclaimed, "It is
surely intended to drown me, for it is absurd to suppose that a
person of my dimensions can swallow all that."  She listened
to her sentence without exhibiting either weakness or alarm,
and showed no other weakness on:her way to execution than
to request that she might be so placed as not to see the officer




450                REMARKABLE TRIALS.
who had apprelhended her. She also ascended, unaided and
barefoot, the ladder to the seaffold. Strange to say, she always
possessed some sense of religion:  she went regularly to confession, and when arrested at Liege a sort of general form was
found in her possession, which sffieciently alluded to her criminality. to form a s-trong presumption against her. What' adds
to the atrocity of her cliaracter, she was proved to have had
on,rnections with many persns suspected of the same crimes,
ad to have provided poisons tfor the u-se of others. Many
personrs of rank lost their lives-about the time shle was pursuing
hler horrible career; and the investigation seemed likely to
lead to the discovery of so mueh guilt in this way, that it was,
as a matter of policy, stopped, It was supposed that the indifforenece of the Ma;rquis of Brinyvilliers to hlis wife's conduct
induced her to spare one so much in her power. She suffered
on! the 17t'h of July, 1676.
Madame de Sevigne: thus describes the state of mind which
characterized this monster of a woman while in prison, as well
as the frightfully depraved state of feeling which she must
have possessed from chiklhood:"PARIS, Wednesday, April 29th, 1676.
c'Madame de Brinvilliers is not so much at her e.-se as I:
Olhe is imn prison. Sihe etndeavorts to pass her time thlere as
pleasantly as she can, and desired yesterday to play at piquet,
becaiuse she was very dull, They have found her confession;
sh}e infrnrms us that at the age of seven years she ceased to
be a virgin, and that she hald ever since went on't the same
rate; that she had poisoned her father, her brothers, one of her
children and herseif'; but the last was only to make trial of an,antidote.  Medea has less of this guilty skill. She has ownled
this confession to be'her own writing: it wvas an unaccountable
folly;  but she says she was it a:high fever when she writ it;
that it is a freizy, an extra-vagance, which does not deserve to
be read:eriously."
" PRIs, Friday, May 1st, 1676.
"Nothing is tallked of here bit he tr-ansaetions and behaviork of Madamie de -Binmvillm.  Co6uld one ever have thongth
of her forgetti-ng the -nmurder of her fathebr at eonfession? Mind!
then the peccadilloes that she was afraid of forgetting were




THE MARCHIONESS OF BRINVILLIERS.              451
admirable.  She was in love, it seems, with this same Sainte
Croix; she h ranted to marry himn, and for that purpose gave
her hustband poison two or three different times. Sainte Croix,
who did no't care to have a wife as wicked as himself; gave the
good mllan a dlse of counlter-poison; so that, after being bandied aibo-ut between theni, soletimes poisoned,  sometim,,es nnpoisoifed again, he at last is actually making intercessioul for
h1is dear.  Oh, there is no end to somle people's follies!"
Froim tlie folllowing, it seems that she was not satisfied with
the crimnes she had already committed, but was resolved to
involve innocent persons in her own just and well merited
" PARIs, Friday, July 10, 1676.
"'Penaautier has been confronted with La Brinvilliers..  It
was a very melancholy intervi,w; tlley were wont to 1lmeet on
more <greeable terms. She hasi so repeatedly declared, that if
she was to die shie would make min ny others die with'her, that
it is hlardly to be doubted that shie will draw this poor wretch
in to be a Tslarer of hler tate-; or, at least, to be put t, the 0qtestion., which is a dreadful thing.  The man has a prodigious
nuDlmber of friends; and those of great consequence, whom  he
has formerly had opportunities of obliging, whlile lie was in
possess;ionl ill his two places.  They leave no stone untturned
to serve hilm, alid money flies about in qtulJtities lupon the occasiorn; but if hle sllould be cast, nothing can possibly save
The following is -the account of the closing scene of the
tragedy:"PARTs, Friday, July 17, 1676
At At lenrith it is all over: La Brinvilliers is in the air; after
her execution, her poor little body was thrown ilnto a greaot fire,;rld  Ier  asl'es dispersed  lby thie wind, so that whenever we
blreath,'we shall draw  in soiie particles of her, and by the
cm~n~ii~c~tin oof tile minlite spirits, we may be all intected
w itih,an- itch for poisoning, to: our no small sturprise.  Shle was
c'(Irdle'd fti ll,esterday; and this morning her nt;enllce was read
to hler, which was to performn the amende honorable in the
cihilMch of Notre Dalie; and, after that, to have her head sever'ed frotxi her body, hIer' body burnt, and her ashes thrown into
the' air. They were for put ting' helr to the torture;'but she t old
tleini there Was no occasiotn for tlat, she would confess everyt~ilei~ri ~or-.ti~ts ho cc'i~io f~ti  ~la




452-              REMARKAILE TRALS.
thing. Acrorldingly, she was till five o'clock in the evening relating the passages of her life, which has been more shocking
than was ever imagined. She has poisoned her father ino less
than ten times running, but without being able to destroy him;
as likewise her brother, and several others; and all was under
the appearance of the greatest love and confidence. She has
said nothing against Penautier. Notwitlhstanding this confession, they gave her the question, ordinary and extraordinary,
next mIornling; but this extorted nothing more from her. She
desired to speak with the procurator-general; no one as yet
knows the subject of this conversation. At six o'clock she was
carried in a- cart, stripped to her shift, with a cord about her
neck, to the church of Notre Dame, to perform the amende
honorable; after that was over, she was put again into the same
cart, where I saw her lying at her length, on a truss of straw,
only lier shift and a suit of plain head clothes, with a confessor
on one side and a hangman on the other; indeed, my dear, the
sight made me shudder. Those who saw the execution say
that she mounted the scaffold with great courage. As for me,
I was on the bridge of Notre Dame, with god d'Esears; never,
sure, was there such a concourse of people seen, nor the attention of the whole city so fixed upon any one event."
In a subsequent letter Madame de Sevigne says:" Let me entertain you with a little more of the history of
La Brinvilliers. Shle died as she lived, that is to say, very resolutely. Slhe entered the place where she expected to be put
to the torture; and on seeing the preparations, she said,' they
certainly intend to drown me; for, considering the smallness
of my size, they can never pretend to make me dr-ink so much.'
She heard her sentence read to her without the least token of
fear or weakness; only towards the latter end of it, she desired
them to begin it again, tellhiag them that the circumstance of
the' cart had struck her, and made her lose her attention to the
rest.
"On the way to the execution, she desired her confessor to
place the executioner before her, that she might not, as she said,
have the sight of that rascal Desgrais, who had taken her. He
was before the cart on horseback; her confessor reproved her
for that sentiment, upon which she asked pardon, and submitted
to endure that disagreeable sight. She mounted the ladder and
the scaffold alone, and with her iaked feet; and the executioner
was a quarter of an hour in dressing, shaving, and ordering her
for the execution, in an abusive manner, which caused a great
murmur among the crowd, and was reckoned a great cruelty.
The next day her bones were gathered up, as relics, by the peo



A VICTIM OF JUDICIAL MURDER.           453
pile, who said she was a saint. She had two confessors, one of
which told her that she ought to reveal everything; the other,
that she ought not; she laughed at this diversity of opinion between the learned fathers, and said she believed she might very
conscientiously do which of the two she pleased, and it pleased
her to reveal nothing.  By this means Penautier is come off a
little whiter than snow; however, the public is not contented,
and seems still to entertain some slight suspicion. But see the
misfortune of it: this creature refused to reveal what they
wanted to know, and told what nobody demanded of her. For
example, she said that M. F —  had sent Glaser, the apothecary
they employed in preparing their poisons, into Italy to procure
an herb, which is, it seems, a choice ingr'edient in their mysterious compositions, and that she had heard of this pious pilgrimage of his from Sainte Croix. You see what pains is taken to
load this miserable wretch with crimes, and to finish his ruin;
but the truth of this information is much suspected."
A VICTIM OF JUDICIAL -MURDER.
A Maltese judge of the last century, named Cambo, who was
an early riser, having left his bed one morning before sunrise,
hearing the footsteps of people running violently in the street,
was led by curiosity to see what occasioned it at that unusual
hour. Most of the -houses in Valletta are furnished with balconies, covered and glazed, which, when provided with curtains,
permit the inhabitants, if inclined, to observe what is going on
in the street, without being themselves discovered. The judge,
from one of these, though it was not yet daylight, perceived a
man running in great terror froml another, who followed him
close behind. Directly under the judge's window the pursuer
overtook the flyer, and stabbed him; the wounded man reeled
and fell; in the act of striking, it is to be remarked, the assas.




454               REM'ARKABLE TRIALS.
sin's cap came off, so that the judge had an opportunity of
viewing his features in the increasing daylight; hastily recovering it he instantly took to flight. A few paces further on, he
threw away the sheath of his stiletto, and turllned iilto another
street; tile judge consequently lost sight of him.
Scarcely had he witnessed this extraordinary spectacle, than
a baker, with his basket of bread for the daily consumption of
his customers, made his appearance. As he walked leisurely
along, the sheath of the stiletto, which lay in.his path, caught
his eye; he stooped, took it up, and, after examininig it a little,
put it in his pocket and continued his course. Just then a patrol of police, either by accident or drawn by the noise which
had attracted the attention of the judge, entered the same
street. In the meantime the baker, a little lower, came to the
body just assassinated; the police took the same direction, and
the poor man at this instant perceived them behind him; terrified at the sight of the corpse, and fearful of being suspected
and arrested, he lost-all presence of mind, and hid himself in
the entrance of a gentleman's house near the spot; but he had
not escaped the quick eye of the officers; they had seen a figure,
which disappeared suddenly near the murdered person, whom
they also now discovered, and very naturally conjecturing it
was the assassin, began to search for him carefully on all sides,
as they  knew he had not run off. It was not long before they
detected the unfortunate baker-in his hiding-place; his incoherent and confused replies created suspicion; on searching him
they found the sheath. on his person; the stiletto had fallen
from the wound, and lay near the body; on applying it to the
sheath, they foulnd it corresponded exactly, and less than all
these circumstances would have warranted the arrest of the
poor baker. He was accordingly carried to prison, and public
report gave out that he was undoubtedly the murderer; nor
was this prepossession any way contradicted or removed by the
judge, who, though he had witnessed the whole occurrence, kept
it a profound secret in his own breast. Official report was made
to him within an hour after the event-?still he communicated
the fact to no one. The only way of accounting for his extraoredinary conduct is, that he presided in the criminal court, and
that there was a doubt in the existing jurisprudence, how far a
judge ought to act fiom his own private knowledge of a case,
and whether he ought not altogether to limit himself to the




A VICTIM ~@F JUDICIAL MURDER.           455
disposition of witnesses and o-ther evidence brought forward on.the trial, without any reference to information l!e might have,casually received from other sources.'The dull and. heavy intellect of Cainbio, unable to distign-lish between the rule and
the exception, embraced.this opinion.  The unhappy baker
was, in due time, brought to trial,.  Circumstances were certainly against him; the stupid judge, who knew his innocence,
particularly listened to, and punctually noted all, tile apparent
proofs of his guilt.  Te at le.ngth, to do him justice, perceived
with satisfaction that the evidence was not altogether suHficiently conclusive for condetnnlation; but determined to proceed with all due formality, and not to deviate an iota from
the ordinary routine of the court, according to tile established
plractice of the Maltese Code of:te day, which, in cases of
8em,i-prova, or senmi-proof, preposterously endeavored to supply
-the deficiencies of evidence by the forced confession of the
criminal himself, he:ordered the wretched man to be put to
the question. Imagining in his infatuation, by this proceeding
to reconcile wlhat he esteemed his dulty with his coniscience;
lie conceived t-hat the prisoner, being really innocent, would
persist in asserting him-self to be so, and thus afford him  an
opportunity of declaring the proof of his crimne not sufficiently
made out.  3unt he was mistaken: relaxing nothing from  tlhe
ordinary procedure of the court, the torture, which was that
of the cord, was so cruelly and unmercifully applied, that, at
the second fall, the wretched creature, yielding to the pain
caused by the complete dislocation of' both shoulders, called
out loudly that lie was guilty.'So terrified was he by the
apprehension of a continuation or renewal of his suffering, that
when taken down to receive condemnation, as convicted, he
durst not retract his forced and false confession. No alternative was now, in his own opinion, left to the scrupulous and
undeviating Ca mbo. There was a. person accused, tried, and
convicted, all in due form; if he was not guilty in fact, he was
so in law, and ought to have been so in reality.  Perhaps the
sagacious judge found that he had let matters go too far to retract at the last stage; be that as it may, the hapless wretch
was condemnted to death, and, h]orrible to relate, soon after
underwent the sentence of the law.
It was not long before the dreadful truth was brought to light:
the real murderer, arrested, brought to trial,'and condemned to




456               REM1ARKABLE TRIALS.
death for another crime, among other offenses confessed himself guilty of that for which the poor baker had so unjustly suffered, and appealed to Cambo himself for the truth of his assertion. In the very act of plunging his knife into the body of his
victim, he had caught the judge's eye, as he stood at the window; he described his dress at the time, and mentioned the
circumstance of his cap falling, when he was so near the balcony, that the judge must have necessarily remarked his features. Indeed, he had given himself up for lost, and was astonished at finding the unfortunate baker arrested, condemned,
and executed in his stead, the reasons for which strange proceeding on the part of the judge he had never been able to
account for.
The circumstance coming to the ears of the grand master, he
sent for Carnbo, and soon elicited the whole fact from that precise and straightforward functionary, who still maintained that
he had only fulfilled his duty, and acted up to the letter of the
law, in consigning an innocent man to a cruel and ignominious
death, because it utifortunately happened that the only witness
in Itis favor was his judge. Tile grand master, it seems, was of
a different opinion, for he not only degraded and dismissed
Cambo from  all his employments, but obliged him to provide handsolnely, from his private fortune, for the family of
this victim of judicial murder.
WRONGFUL EXECUTION OF A FATHER FOR THE
MURDER OF HIS DAUGHTER.
There are many curious and interesting cases of circumstantial evidence, or presumptive proof; upon record-cases in
which, as it has subsequently been demonstrated innocent persons have suffered for tile guilty; and the following may be
placed amlngst the most curious of these.  Poor Shaw was,




WRONGFUL'EXECUTION.               457
in all probability, an austere father, and his daughter as probably a wilful and vindictive child; but they should not be
considered as less the objects of pity on that account, and especially when it is called to mind, under what circumstances they
are likely to have been brought up.
William  Shlaw  was an upholsterer at Edinburgh, in the
year 1721. He had a daughter, Catherine Shaw, who lived
with him.  She encouraged the addresses of John Lawson,
a jeweller, to whom William Shaw declared the most insuperable objections, alleging him to be- a profligate young man,
addicted to every kind of dissipation. He was forbidden the
house; but the daughter continuing to see him clandestinely,
the father, on the discovery, kept her strictly confined.
William Shaw had, for some time, pressed his daughter to
receive the addresses of a son of Alexander Robertson, a friend
and neighbor; and one evening, being very urgent with her
thereon, she peremptorily refused, declaring that she preferred
death to being young Robertson's wife. The father grew enraged, and the daughter more positive; so that the most passionate expressions arose on both sides, and the words, barbarity, cruelty, and death, were frequently pronounced by the
daughter! At length lie left her, locking the door after him.
The greater part of the buildings in Edinburgh are formed
on the plan of chambers in English inns of court, so that many
families inhabit rooms on the same floor, having all one cornmon staircase. William Shaw dwelt in one of these, and a
single partition only divided his room from that of James
Morrison, a watch-case-maker.  This Inan had indistinctly
overheard the conversation and quarrel between Catherine
Shaw and her father, but was particularly struck with the repetition of the above words, she having pronounced them loudly
and emphatically! For some little time after the father was
gone out, all was silent, but presently Morrison heard several
groans frioln the daughter. Alarmed, he ran to some of his neighbors unldelr the same roof. These, entering Morrison's room,
and listening attentively, not only heard the groans, but distinctly. heard Catherine Shaw faintly exclaim: " Cruel father,
thou art tile cause of iny death!"  Struck with this, they flew
to the door of Shaw's apartment; they knocked —no answer
was given. Tile knocking was still repeated-still no answer.
Suspicions had before arisen against the father; they were




458                  REMARKABLE TRIALS.
now confirmed: a constable was procured, an entrance forced;
Cathlerine was fund weltering in her blood, anld tile fatal
ktllife by her. side!  She was alive, but speechless; but, oil
questioning her as to owing lher daeath to her father, she w as
just able to make a motion with her head, apparently in the
affirmative, and expired.
Just at the critical moment, William'Shaw returns and
enters the room.  All eyes are on him! He sees his neighbors
and a constable in ids apartiment, and seems much disordered
thereat; but, at the sigllt of his daughter, he turlls pale,
trernmbles, and is ready to sink.'IThe first surprise and the succeeding ho rrorle eve little d oubt of his guilt in the breasts of
the beholders; -and evert that little is done away on the cons:able discover-mn  theat the shirt of William Shaw is bloody.
He was instantly Ilurried before a -magistrate, and upon the
depositiols of all thtle parties, c.mllmitted to prison on suspici on.  lHe was slortly after brought to trial, Uhen, in his defence, lie acklowledged tile llaving confined his daulghter to
prevent her intercours( with Lawsonl; that he had frequently
insisted otl her nmarr-ying Rolbertson; and that he quarrelled
with her on the subject tile eveling she was found  lurde-red,
as the witness, Morris)on, hlad deposed: but he averred, that:he
left lis daughllter unlLarmied and u-ntouched; and that the
blood ft-und upon his shlirt was there in consequence of his
having bled h.imself some days before, and the bandage becorning untied. These assertions did znot weigh a feather with the
jury, when opposed to the stl0rong cilcumstantial evidence of
the daughter's expressions, of " barbarity, cruelty, death,"and of " eruel father thu art the cause of mIy death," —togetller
with that apparlentlyt affirmative motion with her head, and of
the blood so seemingly pryovidelntially discovered on the fatlhe-r's
shirt-. On these several conlcurring circulnstances, was William
Shlaw found guilt-y, was executed, and was hanged in chains,
at Leith Walk, iln November, 17 1.
There was not a person in Edinburgh who believed the,father guiltless, notwitllhstanding his latest words were, " I am
innocent of my daughter's murderl."  Butt in August, 1722, as
a man, who had becmeo possessr;of the late William  Shlaw's
apartments, was runmlnaging by cihance in the chamber where
Catherine Shaw died, lhe accidentally perceived a paper fallen
into a cavity on one side of the chimney.  It was folded as




THOMAS GEDDELY.                   459
a letter, which, on ol)ening,contained the following:-" B3arbarons father, your cruelty in having put it out of my power ever
to join my faite to that of the only manl I could love, and tyrannically-insisting upon ty)y marryifig one whom I always
hlated, hias made me form a resolution to put an end to an existence which is becornme a burilthen to me. I doubt not I shall
find mercy in another world; for sure no benevolent being
can require that I should any longer live in torment to myself
in this! My death I lay to your charge,: when you read ttis,
consider yourself as the inhuman wretch that plunged the
murderous knife into the bosom of the unhappy-Catherine
Shaw."
This letter being shown, the handwriting was recognised
and avowed to be Catherine Shaw's by many of her relatiols
and friends. It became tlte public talk; and the magistracy
of Edinburgh, on a, scrutiny, being convinced of its authenticity, ordered the boly of William Shaw to be taken from the
gibbet, and given to his family, for interment; and as the only
reparation to his memory anld the honor of his surviving re.
lations, they caused a pair of colors to be w.aved over his grave,
in token of his innocence.
THOMAS GEDDELY WHO WAS EXECUTED ON ACCO-UNT OF HIS' RESEMBLANCE TO ANOTHER.
Thomas Geddely lived as a waiter with Mrs. Hannah Williams, who kept a public house at York, England.  It being a
house of much business, and the mistress very assiduous
therein, she was dee(med in wealthy circumstances. One
morning her scrutoire was found broken open and robbed, and
Thomas Geddely disalpearing at the same time, no doubt
was entertained as to the robber.  About a twelve month atter, a man calling himself James Crow came to Yolk, and
worked a few days for a precarious subsistence, in carrying
goods as a porter. Many accosted him  as Thomas Geddely.
He declared he did not know them, that his name was Jamnes




460               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
Crow, and tlhat he never was at York- before.  But this was
held as merely a trick to save himself from the circumstances
of the robbery committed in the house of Mrs. Williams, when
he lived with her as waiter.
His mistress was sent for, and in the midst of many people instantly singled him out, called him by his name (Thomas
Geddely), and charged him with his unfaithfulness and ingratitude in robbing her. He was directly hurried before a
justice of the peace, but on his examination absolutely affirmed
that he was not Thomas Geddely, that he knew no such person,
that he never was at York before, and that his name was
James Crow. Not, however, giving a good account of himself,
but rather admitting that he was a vagabond and petty rogue,
and Mrs. Williams and another person swearing positively to
his person, he was committed to York Castle for trial at the
next assizes.
On arraignment, he pleaded not guilty, still denying that
he was the person he was taken for: but Mrs. Williams and
some others made oath that he was the identical Thomas Geddely who lived with her when she was robbed; and a servant
girl deposed that she had seen him, on the very morning of
the robbery, in the room where the scrutoire was'broken open,
with a poker in his hand. The prisoner, being unable to prove
an alibi, was found guilty of the robbery. He was soon after
executed, but persisted to his latest breath in affirming that
he was not Thomas Geddely and that his name was James
Crow.
And so it proved! Some time after, the true Thomas Geddely, who on robbing his mistress had fled from York to Ireland, was taken up in Dublin for a crime of the same stamp,
and then condemned and executed. Between his conviction
and execution, and again at the fatal tree, he confessed himself to be the very Thomas Geddely who had committed the
robbery at York, for which the unfortunate James Crow had
been executed.
We must add, that a gentleman, an inhabitant of York, happening to be in Dublin at the time of Geddely's trial and execution, and who knew him whien lie lived with Mrs. Williams,
declared that the resemblance between the two men was so exceedingly great, that it was next to impossible to distinguish
their persons asunder.




SAWNEY BEANE.                  461
SAWNEY BEANE.
SCOTTISH ROBBER, MURDERER,  D CANNIBAL.
History contains no parallel to the horrible cruelties and
robberies that were committed by one Sawney Beane, a Scotchman, in the reign of King James the First, before he came to
the crown of England, by the demise of Queen Elizabeth.
Sawney Beane was born about eight or nine miles eastward
of the city of Edinburgh, in the county of East Lothian, of parents who went a hedging and ditching for their daily bread
and who brought up this, their bloody-minded child, to the
same occupation; but as he grew up, his disposition to idleness not permitting hdim to follow an honorable employment,
he, left his father and mother, and ran into the country; where,
following a most wicked course of life, and taking up with a
woman as vicious as himself, instead of living in ally city, town,
or village, they took up, their lodging in a rock by the sea-side,
on the shore of Shire Galloway, where they lived for upwards
of twenty-five years, having both children and grandchildren
in that time, whom they brought up so wickedly that they never separated, kept no other company but themselves, and supported themselves entirely by robbing; and, what was worse,
they never committed a robbery without a murder.
They never frequented any market for provisions, but as soon
as they had murdered any man, woman, or child, they did not
leave the carcass behind, but carried it to their den, where, cutting it into quarters, they would pickle them, and live upon
human flesh, till they got another prey of the same kind! Bat
they had generally a superfluity, insomuch that they oftentimes,
in the night-time, but at a great distance from their sanguinary
mansion, threw legs and arms of some they had killed into the
sea, which the tide frequently cast up at several parts of the
country, to the great astonishment of the beholders. Persons
who went about their lawful occupations fell often into the
hands of these merciless cannibals, and never returned home




462                REMARKI BL,E TRIALS.
again.  This raised a general outcry amongst their friends and
relations; insomuch that the whole country was alarmed at
such a common loss of people, which frequently happened il
travelling into the west of Scotland, and private spies were sent
out into all plarts, to find out, if possible, how these melancholy
events happened.  Fog a length of tirme their strictest searches
and inquiries were to no purposes. tHowever, several honest
travellers were taken up upon suspicion, and wronrgfully hanged
upon bare circumstances, besides several innocent inln-keepers, who were- al's:, execitfed, for no other reasion, than tlhat persons who had been thus lost were known to have lain: in their
houses, and were supposed to have been robbed land murdered
by them, and their bo(dies privately buried in obscure places,
to prevent a discovery.  To such an extent was this carried,
that several innkeepers, on the western road of Scotland, left
off their business- for fear of being made the like examples, and
followed other employmenlts; so that travellers again.were put
to tmany inconveniences for want of accommlodation.
hIowever,: after several had been executed, and no one made
anyV confession at Lhe gallows, but declared that they were innocent of the crime for wlhich they died, this rigorouis way: of
proceeding was given up, and thle finding out of the inmurderers
left' wholly to God.
Sawney Beane, with his wife, children, and grandchildren,
still pursued theiir ),arbarouis actions with inplpnnity; anld, being
somewlhat numerolus, they would attack four, five, or six mern
togethe.r, if they were on:foot. As for horsemen., two were the
niost they would ever set or)n, and then with such caution, that
an a)nbuscade was laid to secure them, ridle which way they
would, provided one or both mnade their escape from the first
assailants.  Thus,, whose foltu-ne soever it was to fall into their
barbarous halards, he or she never caine off with. tlleir lives.
The place was solitatry where they inhabited; and, wllel, the
tide came up, the water went for near two lhunldled yards into
their subterranteous habitation, which reached aln-ost a mile
under ground; so that if they were ever seen therealouts by any
person, it was niot in the least sllspected tl)at anythling hatuman
resided in such a dismal place of perpetual horror and darkness.
The nulnber of people they had killed was not exactly known';
but it was reckoned, that in the twenty-five years they had
reigned in these inhumnran slaughters~ they had washed their'




SAWNEY BEANEI                   4(03
hands in the blood of above one thousand mien, women, and
children I At length, the discovery of the cannibals was tlllls
made.
A man, and his wife, who was behind him on the same horse,
comning one evening from a fair, and falling into the ambuscade of these merciless wretches, they fell upon them in a most
farious manner: the man, to save himself aswell as he could,
fiught it bravely against them with sword and pistol, riding
so-le of them down by main torce of his horse, from which his
wite in the conflict fell off, and was presently murdered before
the husband's face; for the ifenaie can-nibals forthwith cut her
throat, sucking her blood with as great a gusto as if it had been
wine, ripped up her belly,.and pulled out all her entrails;
which unparalleled barbarity mnade the poor man make the
mlore ob-stinate resistance, as expecting the same fate if he fell
inito their impious hands. It pleased Providence that twenty
ir thirty passengers were riding that way from  the same fair
that lhe h id been at, and Sawftley Beane and his blood-thirsty
clan withdrew, mnade the best of their way through a solitary
wo(odl, and so retired to:their den.
Tile man, -who was the first that ever came off alive after falling into their hands, told thle passengers what had happened,
aird showed themn the bloodly spectacle of his wife, whom the
murderers had dragged some distance off, which struck them
all with stupefaction and amazement. They carried him with
tlhem to (Glasgow, and, relating the matter to the provcst of
thiat city, he' immediately sent to the king about it, wlho in
three or four days cainme in person thither, being'desirous to see
the apprehending of this villain, who for so' many years had
been the pest of the western part of his; kingdom.
A body of about four hundred men, well armed, set out on
horseback with the kitng, whl, had several bloodhounds with
hirme and went with the man to thle wood by which he was attacked, but fouhd no sign of any habitation all over it.  They
then went tllrough it, which led down to the sea-side, when the
tide beinlg out, and going along the shore they passed by the
cave of Sawney Beane, witlout taking any notice of it as a
place of habitation, until some of the blood-hounds, running into it, and setting up a most hideous barking, howling, and yelping, the king and his attendants- calne back, and looked into it
blit seeing nothing for darkness, they could not tell what to
think of it, but nevertheless imagined something more than a



464               REMARKABLE TRIALS.
dinary by the blood-hounds making such a noise there, going
quite out of sight, and appealing quite unwilling to come
out. Torches were sent for, and a great many men ventured
into it: though there were several intricate turnings
and windings in this private recess from mankind, yet they
at last came to the apartments of Sawney Beane, where, to
their great surprise, they beheld the legs, arms, thighs, hands,
and feet of men, women, and children, hung up like dried beet;,
and some limbs lying in pickle, a great mass of money, both
gold and siver watches, rings, swords, pistols, and a great
quantity of clothes, both linen and woolen, and infinite other
tlhings, which they had taken from those they had murdered.
All these they seized, took what human flesh they found
there, and buried it-in the sands, and brought out Sawney
Beane and his murdering family, which, besides himself, consisted of his wife, eight sons, six daughters, eighteen grandsons, and fourteen granddaughters, begotten in incest. They
were all pinioned and carried to Edinburgh; all the country,
as they passed along, flocked in multitudes to see this cursed
tribe, who were no sooner come to their journey's end, than
they were put into the Tolbooth for one night, whence' the
next day, being conducted under a strong guard to Leith, the
men, without process or any manner of trial, had their hands
and legs cut off, by which amputation they bled in some hours
to death: all this torture being justly inflicted upon them in
sight of the wife, daughters, and grandchildren. They were
then all burned in three several fires, all dying, like the men,
without repentance, but cursing and venting dire imprecations
to the last gasp of life.