Part 5

The murders of the Marrs and the Williamsons were not yet forgotten, when others of a nature equally atrocious and mysterious were committed upon the persons of Mr. Bird, a retired tallow-chandler, who lived at Greenwich, and who was eighty-three years of age, and his housekeeper Mary Simmons, aged forty-four, on the 8th February 1818.

Mr. Bird, it appears, had amassed a considerable fortune by his exertions in trade, and had retired to live on the competency which he had secured for himself at a house at Greenwich, where, his wife having died about two years before, a poor woman named Simmons lived with him in the capacity of housekeeper. The fact of the murder was discovered under circumstances of a curious nature. Mr. Bird and his housekeeper, it appears, had been in the habit of attending Greenwich church regularly, always making it a point to be in their pew before the commencement of the service. On Sunday morning the 9th February, it was remarked that they were not in the church as usual; and at the conclusion of the service, the alarm which had been by this time excited was increased by the discovery of the fact that the house in which they lived had not yet been opened. The beadle of the parish, in consequence, conceived that he was bound to make some inquiries; and having knocked at the door without receiving any answer, he forced an entrance at the back of the premises. On his entering the house, a most shocking spectacle presented itself to his eyes. The body of the housekeeper was found lying in the passage, presenting a most fearful appearance, the skull being frightfully fractured, apparently with a blunt instrument. In a parlour adjoining the passage was found the body of the unfortunate Mr. Bird, lying on the ground, with his arms stretched out, and his skull also fractured in the same manner as that of his housekeeper, and with the same weapon. On the other rooms of the house being examined, it became obvious that plunder was the object of the murderer; and it was found that the pockets of the deceased had been rifled of the keys of the various drawers and boxes, which were found above-stairs marked with blood. Some silver spoons, &c. had been stolen, for it was known that such articles were in the possession of the deceased, but it was unknown what other property had been carried off; although the only money found in the house was 3_l._, which were in a secret drawer, and which had apparently escaped the attention of the murderer. On more minute inquiry being made into the probabilities of the case, it was ascertained that Mr. Bird and his housekeeper were in the habit of retiring to rest at about ten o'clock on every night; but from both of them being dressed, it was obvious that the murders had been effected before that time. Mr. Bird, it appeared, had been reading, as a book was found open on the table, and a pair of spectacles was clenched in his hand as he lay. The murderer, it was supposed, must have obtained admission by the backdoor, as it was known that the front-door was always kept chained, and was found to be still in the same condition.

The horrid discovery created a very great degree of alarm; and Mr. Bicknell, a respectable solicitor of the place, having despatched messengers to Bow-street to communicate the dreadful intelligence, some officers were immediately sent down to the spot to make the necessary inquiries. An inquest was held upon the bodies in the course of the week, but no circumstances were elicited which could lead to the discovery of the perpetrators of the deed; and on the following Sunday the remains of the unfortunate deceased were interred in Greenwich churchyard, in the presence of an immense concourse of spectators.

During the three succeeding weeks several persons were apprehended on suspicion, but nothing material could be alleged against them; but at length a complete discovery took place, and the murderer was pointed out by his own sister. This woman was married to a man named Godwin, and resided with her husband at Peckham. About a week after the murders had been committed, her brother, Charles Hussey, came to her house, and said he was going to see his brother, who resided at Basingstoke. He went to a box of his under a bed and took something out; she supposed it was money, for he had sixty-seven pounds left him four days after the murders were committed, by a sister, who cut her throat, in Queen-street, Cheapside, where she had lived. Hussey told his sister he should return in a week, but he did not do so for nearly a fortnight. She then said to him, "Oh, Charles! I have been so uneasy during your absence! I have had such frightful dreams, and could not think what detained you." He replied, "Why, what could cause you to dream?" and appeared greatly agitated. After he had gone away, Mrs. Godwin said to her husband, "I think there is something in Charles's box there should not be;" his behaviour caused her to say so; and with one of her own keys she opened the box, when the first things that met her eye were a pair of watches, which she and her husband suspected to have belonged to the late Mr. Bird. Their suspicion was confirmed by Hussey not returning according to promise, and, with a detestation of so black a crime which did them infinite honour, they repaired to Greenwich and gave information of the circumstance.

Another box of Hussey's was brought, soon after the murders, to a Mrs. Goddard, who resided at Deptford; and as this woman's suspicions were excited by some inquiries made after Hussey, she opened the box, and found in it property she supposed to have belonged to the late Mr. Bird. Officers were sent for, and on searching the trunk, they found a silver wine-strainer, a soup-spoon, two shirts, three pair of sheets; a white jean jacket, stained with blood in several places, especially about the right-hand pocket; a pair of gaiters made of drab cloth, with blood upon the buttons of them; a piece of new shirting, which was very bloody, and a glazed hat. In the same trunk were found several articles of silver plate, which proved to have been Mr. Bird's property. It was remarkable that this trunk was only corded, not locked, and that Hussey never called to inquire after it from the time it had been deposited with Mrs. Goddard.

From Deptford the officers proceeded to Mrs. Godwin's house, at Peckham, where, in addition to the watches, they found in the box five one-pound Bank of England notes, and two two-pound notes, all marked with Mr. Bird's initials. In the same box they found Hussey's discharge from the East India Company's Service, which contained a description of his person.

In consequence of these discoveries, no doubt remained but that Hussey had been the principal, if not the only, perpetrator of the foul murders. Diligent inquiry was accordingly made after him; but it was found that he had absconded. More than twenty of the most active metropolitan officers were despatched in every direction to look for him, and large rewards were offered for his apprehension; but it was not until after a considerable time had elapsed that he was taken into custody at Deddington, in Oxfordshire, by a publican named Poulton, who had read the advertisement, and on seeing him recognised him as resembling the person described as the murderer. It appears that Poulton had read the advertisement, and his attention was arrested by his seeing the prisoner walk past his house one evening at about nine o'clock, and suspecting that he was the murderer, he called a neighbour, and they followed him. Having walked after him for some distance, they became assured of the truth of their suspicions, and Poulton went up to him, and said he must go with him, as he had strong suspicion he was the man advertised. The prisoner after some hesitation, confessed his name was Charles Hussey; and on his being searched, a watch and a pocket-book, with a ring in it, part of the property stolen from the late Mr. Bird's house, were found. The prisoner denied any knowledge of the murders or robbery, but admitted that the articles found belonged to him.

The magistrate told the prisoner it would be necessary for him to account for being possessed of the things which had been stolen; and the prisoner said, that between four and five o'clock on the Sunday afternoon after the murders, he saw a man get over a wall into Mr. Smith's grounds, at Greenwich, and run. He followed him, and saw him put down a bundle against a large tree, and leave it there, and then run again. Curiosity induced him to go to the spot, and on his opening the bundle he saw two watches, and a silver soup-ladle. He, however, left the bundle and walked away, but on the following Saturday, happening to go past the same spot, he found the bundle in the same position, and then on examining its contents, he found them to consist of three watches, a silver soup-ladle, a wine-strainer, four sheets, six or eight shirts, six rings, some old coins, two two-pound bank-notes, and three one-pound notes. He took them away with him, and he subsequently absconded because he was ashamed of coming forward, having such things in his possession. He declined saying any thing in reference to the specific charges made against him, and he was committed to Maidstone jail to await his trial.

On the 31st of July 1818, Hussey was indicted at the Maidstone assizes for the wilful murder of Mr. Bird and his housekeeper. The dreadful deed was fully brought home by evidence the most satisfactory and conclusive. It was proved that the hammer with which the murders were committed had been taken from a cooper several days before, and that it was afterwards found in a pond, into which the assassin had thrown it. With this cooper Hussey had been intimate, and was almost daily at the house, where he kept his trunk until subsequent to the murders, when he had it removed to his cousin's, Mrs. Goddard, at Deptford. It was also proved that Hussey belonged to a "Society of Odd Fellows," and that he did not join them on the night of the murders until near ten o'clock. The proprietor of the house where the Odd Fellows met, being asked whether Hussey appeared any way agitated when he saw him, replied, "He might, but I did not observe him, for he is the last man in the world, from his general character and habits, whom I should suspect of either dishonesty or murder."

It was further proved that the prisoner had been originally a sailor in the East India Company's service, from which he was discharged, and that he then became a servant, and lived in that capacity with a Mr. Stevens at Greenwich, not far from the house of Mr. Bird. Previous, however, to the murders, he had been discharged, and he was, at that time, out of place. The remainder of the evidence only confirmed the facts we have already narrated, and the case for the prosecution having closed, Hussey was called on for his defence.

He declared his innocence, and gave a confused account of the manner in which he was employed on the night of the murder; but his criminality was too plain to be doubted, and he was found guilty.

He suffered August 3, 1818, on Pennenden Heath, near Maidstone, the usual place of execution for the county of Kent. He made no confession except that when asked by the Rev. Mr. Argles if he knew who did the deed, he replied with eagerness, "I do, I do."

In person, the unfortunate prisoner was tall, his hands and feet remarkably large, and his countenance pallid, mild, and humane. His appearance was apparently that of a person above his rank in life.

SAMUEL DICK.

CONVICTED OF ABDUCTION AND RAPE.

This was a case of revolting indelicacy and deep-laid villany. We shall give it in the words of the counsel retained to prosecute the accused at the Carrickfergus assizes, March the 21st, 1818.

"The prisoner, Samuel Dick (said he) stands indicted for the forcible abduction and subsequent defilement of Elizabeth Crockatt, the prosecutrix. She is a young woman of respectable family in Derry; and upon the death of her father she became possessed of about two thousand six hundred pounds: this property, her youth, being scarcely seventeen, and her personal attractions, have been the causes of two different atrocious outrages, for the purpose of obtaining possession of them. In August last, upon the Sabbath day, while returning from the meeting, she was forcibly carried off, and taken to Ballymena, where she was rescued by her brother and her uncle. On their return home, her mother, alarmed for her safety, sent her for some time to reside within a few miles of Stewartstown, with a Mr. Matthew Fairservice. On the night of the 3rd of November, Mr. Fairservice's family were invited to spend the evening at Mr. Henry's, where the prosecutrix met Miss Jane Dick, sister to the prisoner, and who is related to the prosecutrix. The prosecutrix, with Mr. Robert Fairservice, his sister, and Miss Dick, then went from Mr. Henry's upon the car to a ball at a Mr. Park's, where she danced the greater part of the night. While at Mr. Park's, Miss Dick invited prosecutrix to Stewartstown, which she declined. When they had got on the car, Robert Fairservice drove rapidly towards Stewartstown, without paying any attention to the remonstrances of the prosecutrix; when in Stewartstown they drove to the prisoner's house, where she saw the prisoner: after breakfast Miss Dick asked Miss Fairservice and the prosecutrix to go to Dungannon with her, as she wished to make some purchases. She was prevailed upon, and did go into Dungannon; remained shopping there until the evening; returned to Stewartstown, dined in the prisoner's house; and about nine or ten o'clock the prosecutrix was asked by Miss Dick to go out to the next door to assist her in purchasing some thread; and the distance being so trifling, she did not think even of putting on her bonnet. When out of the halldoor, she was forcibly seized by some person, and put into a chaise in which was the prisoner, who caught her by the arm; when in the carriage she found her cloak and bonnet had been previously placed there, which was sufficient proof of the pre-concerted plan. The prosecutrix, the prisoner, with Miss Dick, and the other person, were driven to Lurgan, a distance of twenty miles, before day-light in the morning, the prisoner Dick guarding the prosecutrix with a pistol! After some time she was again put into the chaise, and driven to the house of a person named Swayne, where, after having wept and fasted the whole day, she was prevailed upon to go to bed with Miss Dick. From the fatigue she had suffered the two preceding nights, joined to the anxiety of mind she had undergone, she fell asleep; and found on awaking, that in place of Miss Dick being her bedfellow, the prisoner at the bar was. The next morning the prisoner attempted to soothe the prosecutrix by promises of marriage, and went to Dr. Cupples, of Lisburn, to procure a licence, leaving his sister and the other person to watch over her till his return; in spite of them, she contrived to escape to the house of a Mr. English, where she was protected until delivered into the hands of her uncle."

This statement being supported by the evidence, the jury without hesitation found the prisoner Guilty--and he was sentenced to death.

ROBERT JOHNSTON.

EXECUTED FOR ROBBERY.

The extraordinary circumstances attending the execution of this unfortunate man give his case a melancholy interest. Our readers, doubtless, recollect the singular conduct of the Edinburgh mob, at the execution of Porteous. A scene, if possible more disgraceful, occurred on the present occasion.

Robert Johnston was a native of Edinburgh, where he spent the first part of his life without reproach. His parents were poor, and Robert was employed as a carter. In his twenty-fourth year he got into bad company, and was engaged in the robbery of a chandler in Edinburgh, and being apprehended he was brought to trial with two others, and found guilty. His companions had their sentence commuted to transportation for life, but on Johnston the law was ordered to be put in force.

The execution was directed to take place on the 30th December 1818, and on that day, the judgment of the law was carried out, but under circumstances of a most extraordinary nature. A platform was erected in the customary manner with a drop in the Lawnmarket, and an immense crowd having assembled, the unfortunate culprit was brought from the lock-up house at about twenty minutes before three o'clock, attended by two of the magistrates, the Reverend Mr. Tait, and the usual other functionaries. The customary devotions took place, and the unhappy wretch, with an air of the most undaunted boldness, gave the necessary signal. Nearly a minute elapsed, however, before the drop could be forced down, and then it was found that the toes of the wretched culprit were still touching the surface, so that he remained half suspended, and struggling in the most frightful manner. It is impossible to find words to express the horror which pervaded the crowd, while one or two persons were at work with axes beneath the scaffold, in the vain attempt to hew down a part of it beneath the feet of the criminal. The cries of horror from the populace continued to increase with indescribable vehemence; and it is hard to say how long this horrible scene might have lasted, had not a person near the scaffold, who was struck by a policeman, while pressing onward, cried out 'Murder!' Those who were not aware of the real cause of the cry imagined that it came from the convict, and a shower of stones, gathered from the loose pavement of the street, compelled the magistrates and police immediately to retire. A cry of "Cut him down--he is alive," then instantly burst from the crowd, and a person of genteel exterior jumped upon the scaffold, cut the rope, and the culprit fell down in a reclining position, after having hung during about five minutes only. A number of the mob now gained the scaffold, and taking the ropes from the neck and arms of the prisoner, they removed the cap from his head and loosening his clothes, carried him, still alive, towards High Street; while another party tore the coffin prepared to receive his body into fragments, and endeavoured unsuccessfully to demolish the fatal gallows. Many of the police were beaten in this riot; and the executioner, who was for some time in the hands of the mob, was severely injured. In the meantime the police-officers rallied in augmented force, and re-took the criminal from the mob, at the head of the Advocates' Close. The unhappy man, half alive, stripped of part of his clothes, and with his shirt turned up, so that the whole of his naked back and the upper part of his body were exhibited, lay extended on the ground in the middle of the street, in front of the police-office. At last, after a considerable interval, some of the police-officers laying hold of him, dragged him trailing along the ground, for about twenty paces, into the office, where he remained upwards of half an hour, while he was attended by a surgeon, bled in both arms, and in the temporal vein, by which suspended animation was restored; but the unfortunate man did not utter a word. In the meantime a military force arrived from the Castle under the direction of a magistrate, and the soldiers were drawn up in the street surrounding the police-office and place of execution.

Johnston was then carried again to the scaffold. His clothes were thrown about him in such a way, that he seemed half naked, and while a number of men were about him, holding him up on the table, and fastening the rope again about his neck, his clothes fell down in a manner shocking to decency. While they were adjusting his clothes, the unhappy man was left vibrating, upheld partly by the rope about his neck, and partly by his feet on the table. At last the table was removed from beneath him, when, to the indescribable horror of every spectator, he was seen suspended, with his face uncovered, and one of his hands broke loose from the cords with which it should have been tied, and with his fingers convulsively twisting in the noose. Dreadful cries were now heard from every quarter. A chair was brought, and the executioner having mounted upon it, disengaged by force the hand of the dying man from the rope. He then descended, leaving the man's face still uncovered, and exhibiting a dreadful spectacle. At length a napkin was thrown over his face amidst shouts of "Murder," and "Shame, shame," from the crowd. The unhappy wretch was observed to struggle very much, but his sufferings were at an end in a few minutes. The soldiers remained on the spot till the body was cut down; and, as it was then near dusk, the crowd gradually dispersed.

The following is a remarkable instance of a similar scene which occurred in France in the year 1828.

Peter Hebard, who had been confined in the prison at Abbey, in France, for five months, expecting the final order for his punishment, having been convicted of a murder, committed under aggravated circumstances, and who had been allowed to indulge in hopes of a reprieve, was told to prepare for death in the afternoon. For nearly five years an execution had not taken place at Abbey, and the consequence was that an immense crowd assembled, which could with difficulty be kept in proper order by a large body of gendarmes. The prisoner was bound to the board laid across the scaffold; and upon the usual signal, his head was placed between the _lunette_ in the guillotine. The knife fell with a trembling motion, but did not touch the criminal. A cry of horror arose from the crowd. The knife was again lifted--it fell a second time, but without reaching the criminal's neck. A volley of stones was discharged at the executioner and his two assistants. For the third time the instrument was let down, but it only inflicted a slight wound. The executioners then quitted the scaffold for fear of the stones, and the criminal's head continued for some minutes bound to the block. The chief executioner again mounted the scaffold, and the knife fell twice more without success. The excitement in the crowd became indescribable. The executioner fled, the criminal lifted his head up, and was greeted with cries of "Bravo!" but he could not get away from the cords. One of the executioners then got on the scaffold, told the unhappy man to turn his head, and at the same time seized him by the neck, and gave him several wounds with a shoemaker's knife. Hebard's head, nearly half off, hung on his shoulder; the spectacle was so horrible, and the spectators so enraged at the executioner, that he was obliged to make his escape amongst the gendarmes. Hebard, who was found standing up to the block, still breathed, and remained for two hours in that situation, during which time he frequently opened his mouth. It appears that the scaffold had been intentionally damaged by a person who acted as assistant to the executioner on account of a grudge. A question might arise, whether the executioner's assistant had a right to stab the criminal, and so alter his punishment, which was to die by the guillotine.

HENRY HUNT.

IMPRISONED FOR A MISDEMEANOR.

The name of Mr. Hunt is too well known to require it to be introduced to our readers with any long explanation of the particular character which he filled up to the time at which he underwent an imprisonment for a misdemeanor against the government. He was probably the most popular demagogue of the day, with the exception of Wilkes; and, like his prototype, he appears to have been totally undeserving the confidence or the applause of the people. Like Wilkes, too, he was the occasion of several deluded people losing their lives, while he himself escaped with a comparatively trifling punishment.