Part 11

Now all things being silent, her spirit could not rest, She appeared unto her mother, who suckled her at her breast, For many a long month or more, her mind being sore oppress'd, Neither night or day she could not take any rest.

Her mother's mind being so disturbed, she dreamt three nights o'er, Her daughter she lay murdered beneath the Red-barn floor; She sent the father to the barn, when he the ground did thrust, And there he found his daughter mingling with the dust.

My trial is hard, I could not stand, most woeful was the sight, When her jaw-bone was brought to prove, which pierced my heart quite; Her aged father standing by, likewise his loving wife, And in her grief her hair she tore, she scarcely could keep life.

Adieu, adieu, my loving friends, my glass is almost run, On Monday next will be my last, when I am to be hang'd, So you, young men, who do pass by, with pity look on me, For murdering Maria Marten, I was hang'd upon the tree.

Printed by J. Catnach, 2 and 3, Monmouth Court.--Cards, &c., Printed Cheap.

LIFE, TRIAL, CONFESSION, & EXECUTION OF JAMES GREENACRE, FOR THE EDGEWARE ROAD MURDER.

On the 22nd of April, James Greenacre was found guilty of the wilful murder of Hannah Brown, and Sarah Gale with being accessary after the fact. A long and connected chain of evidence was produced, which showed, that the sack in which the body was found was the property of Mr. Ward; that is was usually deposited in a part of the premises which led to the workshop, and could without observation have been carried away by him; that the said sack contained several fragments of shavings of mahogany, such as were made in the course of business by Ward; and that it contained some pieces of linen cloth, which had been patched with nankeen; that this linen cloth matched exactly with a frock which was found on Greenacre's premises, and which belonged to the female prisoner. Feltham, a police-officer, deposed, that on the 26th of March he apprehended the prisoners at the lodgings of Greenacre; that on searching the trowsers pockets of that person, he took therefrom a pawnbroker's duplicate for two silk gowns, and from the fingers of the female prisoner two rings, and also a similar duplicate for two veils, and an old-fashioned silver watch, which she was endeavouring to conceal; and it was further proved that these articles were pledged by the prisoners, and that they had been the property of the deceased woman.--Two surgeons were examined, whose evidence was most important, and whose depositions were of the greatest consequence in throwing a clear light on the manner in which the female, Hannah Brown, met with her death. Mr. Birtwhistle deposed, that he had carefully examined the head; that the right eye had been knocked out by a blow inflicted while the person was living; there was also a cut on the cheek, and the jaw was fractured, these two last wounds were, in his opinion, produced after death; there was also a bruise on the head, which had occurred after death; the head had been separated by cutting, and the bone sawed nearly _through_, and then broken off; there were the marks of a saw, which fitted with a saw which was found in Greenacre's box. Mr. Girdwood, a surgeon, very minutely and skilfully described the appearances presented on the head, and showed incontestibly, that the head had been severed from the body _while the person was yet alive_; that this was proved by the retraction, or drawing back, of the muscles at the parts where they were separated by the knife, and further, by the blood-vessels being empty, the body was drained of blood. This part of the evidence produced a thrill of horror throughout the court, but Greenacre remained quite unmoved.

After a most impressive and impartial summing up by the learned Judge, the jury retired, and, after the absence of a quarter of an hour, returned into court, and pronounced a verdict of "Guilty" against both the prisoners.

The prisoners heard the verdict without evincing the least emotion, or the slightest change of countenance. After an awful silence of a few minutes, the Lord Chief Justice said they might retire, as they would be remanded until the end of the session.

They were then conducted from the bar, and on going down the steps, the unfortunate female prisoner kissed Greenacre with every mark of tenderness and affection.

The crowd outside the court on this day was even greater than on either of the preceding; and when the result of the trial was made known in the street, a sudden and general shout succeeded, and continued huzzas were heard for several minutes.

THE EXECUTION.

At half past seven the sheriff arrived in his carriage, and in a short time the press-yard was thronged with gentlemen who had been admitted by tickets. The unhappy convict was now led from his cell. When he arrived in the press-yard, his whole appearance pourtrayed the utmost misery and spirit-broken dejection; his countenance haggard, and his whole frame agitated; all that self-possession and fortitude which he displayed in the early part of his imprisonment, had utterly forsaken him, and had left him a victim of hopelessness and despair. He requested the executioner to give him as little pain as possible in the process of pinioning his arms and wrists; he uttered not a word in allusion to his crime; neither did he make any dying request, except that his spectacles might be given to Sarah Gale; he exhibited no sign of hope; he showed no symptom of reconciliation with his offended God! When the venerable ordinary preceded him in the solemn procession through the vaulted passage to the fatal drop, he was so overcome and unmanned, that he could not support himself without the aid of the assistant executioner. At the moment he ascended the faithless floor, from which he was to be launched into eternity, the most terrific yells, groans, and cheers were vociferated by the immense multitude surrounding the place of execution. Greenacre bowed to the sheriff, and begged he might not be allowed to remain long in the concourse; and almost immediately the fatal bolt was withdrawn, and, without a struggle, he became a lifeless corse.--Thus ended the days of Greenacre, a man endowed with more than ordinary talents, respectably connected, and desirably placed in society; but a want of probity, an absolute dearth of principle, led him on from one crime to another, until at length he perpetrated the sanguinary deed which brought his career to an awful and disgraceful period, and which has enrolled his name among the most notorious of those who have expiated their crime on the gallows.

On hearing the death-bell toll, Gale became dreadfully agitated; and when she heard the brutal shouts of the crowd of spectators, she fainted, and remained in a state of alternate mental agony and insensibility throughout the whole day.

After having been suspended the usual time, his body was cut down, and buried in a hole dug in one of the passages of the prison, near the spot where Thistlewood and his associates were deposited.

J. Catnach, Printer, 2 and 3, Monmouth Court.

The following is a fac-simile of the "Execution Paper," from the press of Paul and Co.,--successors of Catnach.

TRIAL, SENTENCE, CONFESSION, & EXECUTION OF F. B. COURVOISIER, FOR THE Murder of Lord Wm. Russell.

THE VERDICT.

Old Bailey, Saturday Evening, _June 20th, 1840_.

After the jury had been absent for an hour and twenty minutes, they returned into court, and the prisoner was again placed at the bar.

The names of the jury were then called over, and the clerk of the court said--"How say you, gentlemen, have you agreed on your verdict? Do you find the prisoner Guilty or Not Guilty of the felony of murder with which he stands charged?"

The foreman of the jury, in a low voice, said--"We find him GUILTY!"

The Clerk of the Court then said: Francois Benjamin Courvoisier, you have been found Guilty of the wilful murder of William Russell, Esq., commonly called Lord William Russell; what have you to say why the court should not give you sentence to die according to law?

The prisoner made no reply. The usual proclamation for silence was then made.

SENTENCE.

The LORD CHIEF JUSTICE TINDAL, having put on the black cap, said: Francois Benjamin Courvoisier, you have been found guilty by an intelligent, patient, and impartial jury of the crime of wilful murder. That crime has been established against you, not indeed by the testimony of eye-witnesses as to the fact, but by a chain of circumstances no less unerring, which have left no doubt of your guilt in the minds of the jury, 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. The murder, although committed in the dark and silent hour of night, has nevertheless been brought clearly to light by Divine interposition. The precise motive which induced you to commit this guilty act can only be known to your own conscience; but it now only remains for me to recommend you most earnestly to employ the short time you have to live in prayer and repentance, and in endeavouring to make your peace with that Almighty Being whose law you have broken, and before whom you must shortly appear. The Learned Judge then passed sentence on the prisoner in the usual form.

The court was very much crowded to the last.

THE CONFESSION OF THE CONVICT.

After the Learned Judge had passed sentence on the convict, he was removed from the bar, and immediately made a full confession of his guilt.

THE EXECUTION.

At eight o'clock this morning, Courvoisier ascended the steps leading to the gallows, and advanced, without looking round him, to the centre of the platform, followed by the executioner and the ordinary of the prison, the Rev. Mr Carver. On his appearance a few yells of execration escaped from a portion of the crowd, but the general body of the people, great as must have been their abhorrence of his atrocious crime, remained silent spectators of the scene which was passing before their eyes. The prisoner's manner was marked by an extraordinary appearance of firmness. His step was steady and collected, and his movements free from the slightest agitation or indecision. His countenance indeed was pale, and bore the trace of much dejection, but it was at the same time calm and unmoved. While the executioner was placing him on the drop he slightly moved his hands (which were tied in front of him, and strongly clasped one within the other) up and down two or three times, and this was the only visible symptom of any emotion or mental anguish which the wretched man endured. His face was then covered with the cap, fitting so closely as not to conceal the outlines of his countenance, the noose was then adjusted. During this operation he lifted up his head and raised his hands to his breast, as if in the action of fervent prayer. In a moment the fatal bolt was withdrawn, the drop fell, and in this attitude the murderer perished. He died without any violent struggle. In two minutes after he had fallen his legs were twice slightly convulsed, but no further motion was observable, excepting that his raised arms, gradually losing their vitality, sank down from their own lifeless weight.

After hanging one hour, the body was cut down and removed within the prison.

AFFECTING COPY OF VERSES.

Attention give, both old and young, Of high and low degree, Think while this mournful tale is sung, Of my sad misery. I've slain a master good and kind, To me has been a friend, For which I must my life resign, My time is near an end.

Oh hark! what means that dreadful sound? It sinks deep in my soul; It is the bell that sounds my knell, How solemn is the toll. See thousands are assembled Around the fatal place, To gaze on my approaching, And witness my disgrace.

There many sympathising hearts, Who feel another's woe, Even now appears in sorrow, For my sad overthrow. Think of the aged man I slew, Then pity's at an end, I robb'd him of property and life, And the poor man of a friend.

Let pilfering passions not intrude, For to lead you astray, From step to step it will delude, And bring you to dismay. Think of the wretched Courvoisier, Who thus dies on a tree, A death of shame, I've nought to blame, But my own dishonesty.

Mercy on earth I'll not implore, To crave it would be vain, My hands are dyed with human gore, None can wash off the stain. But the merits of a Saviour, Whose mercy alone I crave; Good Christians pray, as thus I die, I may his pardon have.

Paul & Co., Printers, 2, 3, Monmouth Court, Seven Dials.

But the gallows was not always a fruit-bearing tree, and a "stunning good murder" did not happen every day. Nevertheless the street patterer must live, and lest the increase of public virtue should condemn him to starvation, the "Seven Dials Press," stepped forward to his aid, and considerately supplied him with a species of street-literature well known to the trade as "Cocks," and which are defined in "Hotton's Slang Dictionary" thus:--

COCKS, fictitious narratives, in verse or prose, of murders, fires and terrible accidents, sold in the streets as true accounts. The man who hawks them, a patterer, often changes the scene of the awful event to suit the taste of the neighbourhood he is trying to delude. Possibly a corruption of _cook_--a cooked statement, or may be "the story of a cock and bull" may have had something to do with the term. Improvements in newspapers, especially in those published in the evening, and increased scepticism on the part of the public have destroyed this branch of a once-flourishing business.

The late Mr. Albert Smith, the humourist and novelist, has very happily hit off this style of thing in "The Man in the Moon," one of the many rivals to "Punch," and edited by that very promising son of genius, the late Angus B. Reach, 1832-56. It is entitled--

A COPY OF VERSES

_Found among the Papers of Mr. Catnach, the spirited Publisher of Seven Dials; originally intended to have been "printed and published at the Toy and Marble Warehouse, 2 and 3, Monmouth Court, Seven Dials."_

DEDICATED TO THE AUTHOR OF "LUCRETIA."

I.

_The Hero claims the attention of virtuous persons, and leads them to anticipate a painful disclosure._

Draw hither now good people all And let my story warn, For I will tell to you a tale, What will wrend them breasts of yourn.

II.

_He names the place and hour of the disgraceful penalty he is about to undergo._

I am condemn'd all for to die A death of scorn and horror; In front of Horsemonger-lane Gaol, At eight o'clock to-morrer.

III.

_He hints at his atrocity; and the ebullition produced by the mere recollection of it._

The crime of which I was found guilty, Oh! it was shocking vile; The very thoughts of the cruel deed Now makes my blood to bile.

IV.

_He speaks of the happy hours of Childhood, never more to return._

In Somersetshire I was born'd, And my little sister dear Didn't think then that my sad end Would be like unto this here.

V.

_The revelation of his name and profession; and subsequent avowal of his guilt._

James Guffin is my hated name, And a footman I'm by trade; And I do confess that I did slay My poor fellow-servant maid.

VI.

_He acknowledges the justice of his sentence._

And well I do deserve, I own, My fate which is so bitter: For 'twas most wicked for to kill So innicent a critter.

VII.

_And pictures what might have taken place but for the interference of Destiny._

Her maiden name was Sarey Leigh, And was to have been Guffin; For we was to have been marri-ed, But Fate brought that to nuffin.

VIII.

_He is particular as to the date of the occurrence._

All on a Wednesday afternoon, On the ninth of Janivary, Eighteen hundred and forty-four, Oh! I did kill my Sarey.

IX.

_And narrates the means employed, and the circumstances which led him to destroy his betrothed._

With arsenic her I did destroy, How could I be so vicious! But of my young master I was jealous, And so was my old Missus.

X.

_He is led away by bad passions._

I thought Sarey Leigh warn't true to me, So all pity then despising, Sure I was tempted by the Devil To give to her some p'ison.

XI.

_His bosom is torn by conflicting resolutions; but he is at last decided._

Long--long I brooded on the deed, 'Til one morning of a sudden, I did determine for to put It in a beef-steak puddin.

XII.

_The victim falls into the snare._

Of the fatal pudding she did partake, Most fearful for to see, And an hour arter was to it a martyr, Launch'd into eternity.

XIII.

_He feels that his perception comes too late._

Ah! had I then but viewed things in The light that I now does 'em, I never should have know'd the grief As burns in this here buzum.

XIV.

_He commits his secret to the earth._

So when I seed what I had done, In hopes of justice retarding, I took and buried poor Sarey Leigh Out in the kitching garding.

XV.

_But the earth refuses to keep it._

But it did haunt me, so I felt As of a load deliver'd, When three weeks after the fatal deed, The body was diskiver'd.

XVI.

_Remorse and self examination._

O! why did I form of Sarey Leigh Such cruel unjust opinions, When my young master did her find Beneath the bed of inions.

XVII.

_His countrymen form a just estimate of his delinquency._

Afore twelve jurymen I was tried, And condemned the perpetrator Of this here awful Tragedy, As shocks one's human natur.

XVIII.

_He conjures up a painful image._

But the bell is tolling for my end; How shocking for to see A footman gay, in the prime of life, Die on the fatal tree.

XIX.

_His last words convey a moral lesson._

THE MORAL!!!

Take warning, then, all ye as would Not die like malefactors; Never the company for to keep Of them with bad characters.

Little Boys and Girls will find At CATNACH'S something to their mind; From great variety may choose, What will instruct them and amuse. The prettiest plates that you can find, To please at once the eye and mind.

One class of literature which the late Jemmy Catnach made almost his own, was children's farthing and halfpenny books. Among the great many that he published we select, from our own private collection, the following as a fair sample:--"The Tragical Death of an Apple Pie," "The House that Jack Built," "Jumping Joan," "The Butterflies Ball and Grasshoppers' Feast," "Jerry Diddle and his Fiddle," "Nurse Love-Child's Gift," "The Death and Burial of Cock Robin," "The Cries of London," "Simple Simon," "Jacky Jingle and Suky Shingle," and--"Here you have just prin--ted and pub--lish--ed, and a--dor--ned with eight beau--ti--ful and ele--gantly engraved embellish--ments, and for the low charge of one _farden_--Yes! one _farden_ buys."

NURSERY RHYMES.

See-saw, sacradown, Which is the way to London town? One foot up, and the other down, And that is the way to London town.

Hey diddle, the cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon, The little dog laughed to see the sport, And the dish ran away with the spoon.

Ding, dong bell! Pussy's in the well. Who put her in? Little Johnny Green. Who pulled her out? Little Johnny Snout. What a naughty boy was that, To drown poor pussy cat, Who never did him any harm, And kill'd the mice in his father's barn.

Jack and Jill went up the hill, To get a pail of water; Jack fell down and broke his crown, And Jill came tumbling after.

Cock a doodle do, The dame has lost her shoe, And master's lost his fiddle stick And don't know what to do.

I had a little husband, No bigger than my thumb. I put him in a quart pot, And there I bid him drum.

Who's there? A Grenadier! What do you want? A pot of beer. Where's your money? Oh, I forgot, Then get you gone, you drunken sot.

Hush-a-bye, baby, on the tree top, When the wind blows the cradle will rock, When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, Down comes the baby, cradle and all.

There was an old woman that lived in a shoe, She had so many children she knew not what to do; She gave them some broth without any bread, Then she beat them all well, and sent them to bed.

My mother and your mother Went over the way; Said my mother to your mother, It's chop-a-nose day!

J. Catnach, Printer, 2, Monmouth Court, 7 Dials.

THE CRIES OF LONDON.

_Cherries._

Here's round and sound, Black and white heart cherries, Two-pence a pound.

_Oranges._

Here's oranges nice, At a very small price, I sell them all two for a penny. Ripe, juicy, and sweet, Just fit for to eat, So customers buy a good many.

_Milk below._

Rain, frost, or snow, or hot or cold, I travel up and down, The cream and milk you buy of me Is best in all the town. For custards, puddings, or for tea, There's none like those you buy of me.

_Crumpling Codlings._

Come buy my Crumpling Codlings, Buy all my Crumplings. Some of them you may eat raw, Of the rest make dumplings, Or pies, or puddings, which you please.

_Filberts._

Come buy my filberts ripe and brown, They are the best in all the town, I sell them for a groat a pound, And warrant them all good and sound, You're welcome for to crack and try, They are so good, I'm sure you'll buy.

_Clothes Pegs, Props, or Lines._

Come, maids, and buy my pegs and props, Or lines to dry your clothes, And when they are dry they'll smell as sweet As any damask rose. Come buy and save your clothes from dirt, They'll save you washing many a shirt.

_Sweep._

Sweep, chimney sweep, Is the common cry I keep, If you rightly understand me; With my brush, broom, and my rake, Such cleanly work I make, There's few can go beyond me.

_Peas and Beans._

Four pence a peck, green Hastings! And fine garden beans. They are all morning gathered, Come hither, my queens. Come buy my Windsor beans and peas, You'll see no more this year like these.

_Young Lambs to Sell._