Part 1

Transcribed from the 1830 Hatchard and Son edition by David Price, email [email protected]

AN ACCOUNT OF THE DEATH OF PHILIP JOLIN, WHO WAS EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF HIS FATHER, IN THE ISLAND OF JERSEY, OCTOBER 3, 1829.

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BY FRANCIS CUNNINGHAM, A. M. RECTOR OF PAKEFIELD.

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LONDON: HATCHARD AND SON, PICCADILLY; SEELEY AND SONS, FLEET STREET; AND J. NESBITT, BERNERS STREET.

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1830.

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LONDON: IBOTSON AND PALMER, PRINTERS, SAVOY STREET, STRAND.

ADVERTISEMENT.

To determine the real state of mind in a criminal manifesting, for the first time, when under sentence of death, signs of repentance, is plainly a work of much difficulty. If ever dissimulation may be expected, it must be in the case of a person probably long habituated, and, in his present circumstances, additionally excited to it by the fear of death: and the experience of every minister of religion conversant in such cases, must teach him that professions of religion, under such circumstances, are far oftener the language of alarm, than of real conversion. Every one, therefore, would earnestly covet, with Mr. Newton, to know rather how the man lived, than how he had died. But here the life and the death may offer the most conflicting evidence. How difficult it is then so to decide as not, on the one hand, to make “the heart of the righteous sad, whom God has not made sad;” upon the other, to say “peace” to the soul, “when there is no peace.”

Most of the cases of religious communication with dying criminals, recorded in the public prints, are in the highest degree painful. The chaplain goes through the forms of instruction, the sermon is preached, and then, without one proof being assigned of the fitness of the criminal for that solemn ordinance of religion, the sacrament is administered. All the requisitions of our church, as to “those who come to the Lord’s supper,” are passed by. The deep workings of repentance, and longing for amendment, the exercise of a lively faith in Christ, the thankful remembrance of his death, the feeling of universal charity so difficult in such circumstances; in short, every evidence of an awakened and converted heart is neglected, and the man forced upon a hypocritical avowal of truth, to which he is in reality utterly a stranger. He dies, in fact, with “a lie in his right hand”—a lie, the guilt of which is surely divided between himself and the minister who urges him to the rash reception of the sacrament.

It is under the deepest conviction of the difficulty of such cases, that the present tract, recording the events of the last eleven days in the life of a criminal is presented to the public. His crimes had been great, but hypocrisy was not amongst their number. His faculties were not such as to give him any peculiar facility in adopting the truths presented to him. He had received no previous religious instruction. He had no uncommon power of utterance. Let the reader judge whether the words and conduct, both before and after conviction, as recorded in these pages, do not supply an evidence of the power of God to reclaim the wanderer even in the eleventh hour; and are not calculated, in the highest degree, to encourage the often disconsolate visitor of the sick, the dying, and the criminal. The facts here recorded have been collected partly by personal communication, partly from letters to the writer from the Rev. W. C. Hall, and partly from a printed account of the Rev. E. Durell. The substance of the statement was first inserted in the Christian Observer, and it is now submitted, with some alteration, to the public, and with an earnest desire that its perusal may, through the Divine blessing, tend to the glory of that compassionate Saviour, to whose service it is dedicated.

THE LAST DAYS OF PHILIP JOLIN, LATELY EXECUTED AT ST. HELENS, FOR THE MURDER OF HIS FATHER.

THE particulars of the crime of this unfortunate young man may be stated in a few words. He had long been known in the neighbourhood where he lived, as an object of disgrace, and the cause of perpetual disturbance. Not indeed that he was more profligate in character than those with whom he was immediately connected. His father, as well as his mother-in-law, lived in habits of drunkenness. She died eight months before the son committed the crime for which he suffered. Jolin was, with his father, by trade a blacksmith. His business brought with it some temptation to drinking; and, in Jersey, where spirits are cheaper even than in England, this disposition was most easily gratified. So that, with the example of his parents, and his own circumstances, it is not a matter of astonishment that he fell into the course of sin which led to his ruin. The progress of vice was, it is to be presumed, in his case, like that of other drunkards. The liquor, at first taken as a bodily relief, unguarded by any restraint, was soon resorted to as an indulgence; till at last he was enlisted in the number of those of whom the prophet speaks, “who rise up in the morning that they may follow their drink, and continue till night, till wine inflames them.” But the abominable tendency of this particular sin is illustrated almost equally by the conduct of the father and son.

It appeared on the trial of Jolin, that he had been exposed to the greatest cruelties on the part of his father. One person deposed, that he had often seen him beat his son with a hammer, or any thing else, which might happen to come under his hand, and almost always about the head; and the scars from these wounds were seen on his head when he was committed to prison. Another, that she had once heard the prisoner’s mother cry out for help. She went in, and saw the son down, and the father striking him with an iron bar, saying at the same time, that he was going to kill him. Very often he would not give him any food. Another witness testified, that, going into the house of the father, he saw him put down a flat iron bar, with which he had just been striking his son on the head, and his head was covered with blood. He was laid on his bed, but his father refused to allow any assistance to be tendered to him. This witness had seen the father kick his son about several parts of the body. What a contrast is all this to that scene which the psalmist describes of a household where the Spirit of God dwells—“Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity, for there the Lord commandeth his blessing.” These facts are introduced, not only in explanation of the subject, but that some light may be thrown on the appeal which Jolin afterwards made to his judge on his own behalf.

On the morning on which the last crime was committed, as Jolin confessed to one who attended upon him in prison, he had drank to excess, and become completely intoxicated. In this state he returned to his own home—a home of which, he added, “no one knew the wretchedness.” It was dinner time, but he found no food prepared, and from his father he met with only that reception which he might expect from such a parent; more especially when he himself was overcome with drunkenness. He went into the garden to gather a pear, and about this the fatal quarrel ensued. The father had come behind, and caught him by the cape of the jacket, and kicked him about the back and legs. He tore himself from his father, and was soon seen running out of the house crying, and the father in the act of pursuing, as if with the intention of striking him. The father said that he would “settle him when he returned.” The son replied, that he would “settle him (the father) also.” The son then ran to a heap of bricks which lay in the street, and taking one which he appears to have broken in two pieces, he returned to be revenged on his father. He was remonstrated with by a neighbour, but in vain. In his rage he threw the brickbats at his father. One of the pieces struck him on the head, and he immediately fell to the ground. The wretched sufferer swooned from the violence of the blow and the loss of blood. In this state he appears to have remained, with very little change, for about an hour, when he died. It is not stated whether he was enabled to cry for mercy to that God, into whose presence he was thus awfully hurried; or whether he had time to reflect upon the state of his son, and his probable punishment. How awful must have been the change to this wretched man, when he found himself in a moment lifting up his eyes before the Judge of quick and dead!

Meanwhile, the son, utterly unconscious of what he had done, or feeling only satisfaction at what he thought was the suitable punishment for his father, went out again, and finding his way into a neighbour’s shop, told the keeper of it that his father had beaten him, and that he had knocked him down. Here he fell asleep, and slept probably till his fit of intoxication had passed away. On rising he was about quietly and unsuspectingly to return to the scene of his crime, when he was arrested and brought to prison. When, on the way to the prison, he was told that his conduct might possibly bring him to the gallows, he showed his first symptom of alarm. He remained in prison till Thursday, September 24, when he was submitted to his first public examination. The trial, according to the laws of that country, was repeated on Monday the 28th. The judges, and two juries, in number together thirty-seven, after the fullest investigation of the facts, and after hearing the able defence of his advocate, Mr. Hammond, pronounced his crime to be murder, and condemned him to death. The court refused even to make application for the mitigation of punishment, whereupon he was delivered to the execution of his sentence, which he underwent on Saturday, Oct. 3d.

There were many particulars in this case, in addition to the remarkable nature of the crime, and indeed the rareness of any crime of such magnitude in the small district in which it occurred, that made it a subject of very general notice. One leading circumstance was the manifest alteration which took place in Jolin’s mind during the period of his imprisonment. Upon this point there was an entire agreement of opinion amongst all persons who had any acquaintance with the real state of the case. Not only ministers, both of the church and the Dissenters, but persons of other classes, bore testimony to the reality of _a_ change; the _nature_ of which, however, not so many persons could detect, as its very striking effects. The newspaper spoke of an “alteration” which took place in him, of his “confession, in the most humble terms, of his own sinfulness;” of “his forcible admonitions to others to abstain from evil, and to practise the duties of religion and morality;” but of the change of heart which this case exhibited, the editor of the paper seems to have had no real understanding. The case of Jolin, convinced of his sin, however, is that of a man, not merely convinced of his guilt in one instance, and anxious to warn others not converted by the Holy Ghost, acknowledging his total alienation of heart from God, and persuaded that all his repentance, all his good resolutions, could never expiate his past sins; but that, as he himself said, “Christ was his only hope; for HE had paid his ransom, and He would receive him into glory.”

The greater part of persons who have had much experience in visiting the dying sick, or condemned criminals, have, in general, little confidence in a repentance which only springs up under the apprehension of immediate death, whatever flights of sentiment may be exhibited. They have seen in the backsliding of men who promised every thing in the time of sickness, how vain, generally speaking, are the convictions of their sincerity. In the greater part of these cases, there is a want of completeness in the work of repentance and faith, which the experienced pastoral visitor is often able to detect; too little of real contrition, or too much of profession and confidence. But in the case in question, those who visited Jolin confess themselves to have been impressed, as they might conceive the spectators to be affected by the case of the thief on the cross. One and all were led to say, “this is the finger of God.” Under such circumstances, it cannot surely be wrong to gather together a few particulars of this history, which will be interesting to those, at least, who have experienced the power of divine grace in their own change of heart, and who rejoice in every display of it in the sinner that repenteth.

Jolin appears in early life to have been sent to school, although he said, that such had been the irregularity of his father’s house, and such the hindrances thrown in his way, that he had been more impeded than encouraged by his parents, in any attempt to attend upon the public means of religious instruction. How tremendous is the responsibility of such a father and mother; culpable in their neglect, but awfully so in their example! And what a case is here presented of the retributive justice of God! The father trained his child in habits of intoxication, and treated him with cruel violence; and the son, in a fit of intoxication, by an act of violence, hurried his father headlong to the bar of God’s judgment. We are not able, often, so clearly to trace the workings of Almighty wrath; nor is it to be expected, that, placed as we are in a state in which we must look for our rewards or punishments beyond the grave, we should here see any proportionate recompense of crime. Still we know, that “as a man sows so he shall also reap,” if not in this world, to bring him to repentance, yet certainly, and how much more awfully! in that world where a place for repentance is no where found.

This young man, on some occasions previous to his committal to prison, had read the Bible; for he remarked to one of his attendants, that when at sea, during his watch, he had done so; but he added, “I then read it as a sealed book. I had neither eyes given me to see, nor ears to hear, and this was a just judgment upon me for my sins.” His mode of life had, indeed, been one of complete dissoluteness. He went to sea, because he was too bad to remain on land; and he returned to shore, probably because he was wearied of the restraints at sea. The relations of the family, disgusted at the scenes of vice in his father’s house, abandoned them. So that it is not easy to conceive a state of lower degradation than this young man had reached. No one, as he himself said, could describe the misery of this state as he had experienced it. What situation could indeed more completely tend to brutalize the mind, to deaden every feeling of conscience, to leave the man long habituated to it “without hope,” and indeed “without God in the world?” The nature of the crime for which Jolin was committed to prison, was such as to increase the general horror against him. This was exhibited by the crowd, in the streets, on the occasion of his trial; so that his various crimes had made him an outcast from the pity and compassion of his fellow-creatures. It is true, there were particular circumstances in his case, which, if generally known, would have lessened the public indignation, and which might have been a source of secret satisfaction to himself. These were the exceeding badness of his education, the brutality of his father, the continual discord of his family, the state of intoxication in which he was when he unintentionally committed the crime; but these points, although once alluded to in his appeal to his judges, were scarcely mentioned by him in his private conversations, so completely was the conviction established in his mind, that he had fallen into sin by the wilfulness of his own heart, that he had destroyed himself; and that to a greater depth of transgression he could scarcely have reached.

After Jolin had been lodged in gaol, he was visited by a very respectable relative, Mr. Pinel, a member of the Methodist church. He made this visit, as he himself testified, without the hope of any spiritual benefit. He, however, desired to relieve his temporal necessities, and to afford him all the comfort in his power. He found the poor culprit in a most pitiable state. Overwhelmed and stunned by his situation, he was lying on a heap of straw, and appeared like one who had no hope to look to in this world, or the next. Mr. Pinel said to him, “Young man, I think both your body and your soul are in great danger.” Jolin did not answer, but sobbed excessively. He then procured for him a bed, and some comfortable clothing, and put into his hands a French Testament. Soon after, as there was at that time no chaplain regularly appointed to the gaol, Jolin was visited by the curate of the parish, M. Falle. After some days, M. Falle’s great occupation in his ministry led him to transfer this important and interesting charge to the Rev. W. C. Hall, a young clergyman residing in the island, who took the more immediate care of him, watched over, instructed, and finally attended him through the dark valley of the shadow of death, till he reached, as I doubt not, the portal of the heavenly abode. Meanwhile the Testament was not neglected by Jolin. He read it nearly through; but, in the first instance, it would seem, without understanding the nature of the message which it was designed to convey. His mind, however, was no doubt gradually preparing by the Holy Spirit to receive the instruction about to be more fully imparted. On the 22d of September, about ten days before his execution, Jolin was visited by Mr. Hall and another clergyman. He was then sitting in his bed, and looking as wretched as might be expected under the circumstances in which he was placed; as Mr. Pinel had stated, “without hope for this world, or the next.” They immediately entered upon the object of their visit, and spoke to him of the nature of his offence; of the sin of murder, as condemned by the law of God, and aggravated in his case, because committed against a parent; of its sentence in the judgment of men, and its heinousness in the sight of God. They pointed out to him, that, awful as is man’s sentence against this crime, little consideration was due to this in comparison with the condemnation which the law of God pronounced; and that this condemnation had passed upon him, and that the execution of its sentence of eternal death would be inflicted if he did not repent, and seek help and pardon through Jesus Christ. All this was manifest, for it was written in the word of God, that murderers should have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone (Rev. xxi. 8;) that drunkards should not inherit the kingdom of God, (1 Cor. vi. 10:) and this condemnation, it was also pointed out, extended not only to these crimes, but to that of the general sin of the heart, and was the necessary consequence of its separation and alienation from God. That this condemnation would come upon all sinners was evident, for it is written, “The wages of sin is death,” (Rom. vi. 23.) One point appeared particularly to produce the deepest sensation of pain in this young man’s mind; this was the representation of the conduct of God towards him in reference to his father; that whilst that unhappy man had been cut off, and sent almost without warning, with all his sins upon him, before the Judge who will deal with every man according to his works, he, the murderer, had been spared, and brought into a prison, where he had opportunity given him to reflect upon his state, to seek for pardon, and where salvation was offered to him, if he would turn and seek it. The cry of, “Oh my father, my poor father!” mingled with his sobs on that occasion.

Although Jolin’s crime was so palpable, and was confessed by him in the fullest, yet as it was committed unconsciously, and he had seen no traces of it, except in what others told him, the whole seemed like a dream; and the deed itself, with its appalling circumstances, were not likely to fasten themselves on his mind as if it had been premeditated, or as if he had been in full possession of his understanding, or as if he, which he himself wished, had seen his father’s murdered corpse. However, this circumstance afterwards appeared to turn out to his advantage. It prevented him from fixing his thoughts exclusively on a particular sin; and he was thus less hindered in discovering the sinfulness of his nature and of his general habits, and learning the lesson it is often so difficult to comprehend, that we are not less condemned by the law of God for our general alienation from him, than for any one or more scandalous offences which we may have committed. Not that this state of mind in Jolin prevented him from coming to the deepest sense of his own particular offence; for as he learned more thoroughly to understand the nature of sin in general, his feeling for his peculiar crime more deeply penetrated his soul. One other subject seemed to produce in him the same intense state of feeling which the mention of his father had done; this was the sin of intemperance, which had, as I have before remarked, been the immediate cause of his crime. Mr. Hall, thinking that he might be suffering from the cold, confined as he was in a large stone-chamber, of which the window was usually open, guarded him against seeking a refuge from his sufferings from drinking. At the mention of this, he went off again into expressions of horror at the supposed possibility of such an offence in his tremendous circumstances, and declared that nothing should again tempt him thus to transgress. Yet, as Mr. Hall observes, were his resolutions expressed rather as if smarting under the penalty of his crime, than as if conscious of his own inability to keep the engagement which he was entering into. He spoke as a man strong in his own strength, and as yet unacquainted with the perfect weakness of resolution not formed in dependence upon the power of God.

On the point of again falling into the sins of which he seemed to have repented, three distinct states were noticed in Jolin’s case before his execution. At first, as at this visit, he was fully confident that, if he were once more to be set at liberty, he should never again become intoxicated. Afterwards, when he came to discover the exceeding weakness of his nature, he even dreaded the possibility of his life being accorded to him, lest he should again fall into temptation. And, lastly, he learned to believe, that having cast himself entirely upon Divine grace, and, therefore, using those means of watchfulness and prayer which the word of God prescribes, he needed not fear, if he were called again to life, the temptation even to those vices to which he had been most habituated. On the occasion of this visit, the fifty-first Psalm was pointed out to him. It was in the Prayer-book version, as there was no Bible at hand. This Psalm, so remarkably calculated to meet the experience of a man feeling deeply his sins, and more particularly of one implicated as he was in such a variety of vice, struck his attention very deeply; and the more so when, the next day, it was read to him in the Bible translation, and its chief points expounded to him. He learned a great part of this Psalm by heart; it was nearly the last portion of Scripture that he repeated; and it became one of the subjects of his meditation during the long nights in which he was shut up alone.