Part 7

The executioner commenced his mournful duties by taking from the unhappy prisoner his cravat and collar. To obviate all difficulty in this stage of the proceedings, Thurtell flung back his head and neck, and so gave the executioner an opportunity of immediately divesting him of that part of his dress. After tying the rope round Thurtell's neck, the executioner drew a white cotton cap over his countenance, which did not, however, conceal the contour of his face, or deprive him entirely of the view of surrounding objects.

At that moment the clock sounded the last stroke of twelve. During the whole of this appalling ceremony, there was not the slightest symptom of emotion discernible in his features; his demeanour was perfectly calm and tranquil, and he behaved like a man acquainted with the dreadful ordeal he was about to pass, but not unprepared to meet it. Though his fortitude was thus conspicuous, it was evident from his appearance that in the interval between his conviction and his execution he must have suffered much. He looked careworn; his countenance had assumed a cadaverous hue, and there was a haggardness and lankness about his cheeks and mouth, which could not fail to attract the notice of every spectator.

The executioner next proceeded to adjust the noose by which Thurtell was to be attached to the scaffold. After he had fastened it in such a manner as to satisfy his own mind, Thurtell looked up at it, and examined it with great attention. He then desired the executioner to let him have fall enough. The rope at this moment seemed as if it would only give a fall of two or three feet The executioner assured him that the fall was quite sufficient. The principal turnkey then went up to Thurtell, shook hands with him, and turned away in tears. Mr Wilson, the governor of the gaol, next approached him. Thurtell laid to him, "Do you think, Mr Wilson, I have got enough fall?" Mr Wilson replied, "I think you have, Sir. Yes, quite enough." Mr Wilson then took hold of his hand, shook it, and said, "Good bye, Mr Thurtell, may God Almighty bless you." Thurtell instantly replied, "God bless _you_, Mr Wilson, God bless _you_." Mr Wilson next asked him whether he considered that the laws of his country had been dealt to him justly and fairly, upon which he said, "I admit that justice has been done me--I am perfectly satisfied."

A few seconds then elapsed, during which every person seemed to be engaged in examining narrowly Thurtell's deportment His features, as well as they could be discerned, appeared to remain unmoved, and his hands, which were extremely prominent, continued perfectly steady, and were not affected by the slightest tremulous motion.

Exactly at two minutes past twelve the Under-Sheriff, with his wand, gave the dreadful signal--the drop suddenly and silently fell--and

JOHN THURTELL WAS LAUNCHED INTO ETERNITY.

On the 10th of September, 1824, Henry Fauntleroy, of the firm of Marsh, Stracey, Fauntleroy, and Graham, bankers, in Berners-street, was apprehended in consequence of its being discovered that in September, 1820, £10,000 3 per cent stock, standing in the names of himself, J. D. Hume, and John Goodchild, as trustees of Francis William Bellis, had been sold out under a power of attorney, to which the names of his co-trustees and some of the subscribing witnesses were forged. It was soon ascertained that the extent to which this practice had been carried was enormous, no less than £170,000 stock having been sold out in 1814 and 1815 by the same fraudulent means.

Every exertion was used by Mr. Fauntleroy's counsel, his case being twice argued before the Judges, but both decisions were against him; and on the 30th of November, 1824, his execution took place. The number of persons assembled was estimated at nearly 100,000.

The station in society of this unfortunate man, and the long-established respectability of the banking-house, in which he was the most active partner, with the vast extent of the forgeries committed, gave to his case an intensity of interest which has scarcely ever been equalled, and during the whole time it was pending afforded plenty of work for the printers and vendors of street literature. Catnach's advanced position, which was now far beyond all his compeers, caused him to get the lion's share. Every incident in the man's character, history, and actions was taken advantage of. The sheets, almost wet from the press, were read by high and low; by those who lived and revelled in marble halls and gilded saloons, as well as by those who thronged our large towns and centres of industry.

The parliamentary election of 1826, for the county of Northumberland, the principal seat of which was at Alnwick, gave early promise of being severely contested. There were four candidates in the field, namely, Henry Thomas Liddell, afterwards first Earl of Ravensworth, of Ravensworth Castle, county Durham; Mr. Matthew Bell, of Woolsingham, Northumberland; Mr. Thomas Wentworth Beaumont, and Lord Howick, afterwards Henry the third Earl Grey, K.G. The nomination of the candidates took place on Tuesday, June 20th, 1826, and the polling continued till July 6th, when the result was as follows:--

Liddell 1562 Bell 1380 Beaumont 1335 Howick 997

This contest was the greatest political event in the history of the county. It is estimated that it cost the candidates little short of £250,000.

Now, as we have before observed, Mr. Mark Smith--who till the time of his death, on the 18th of May, 1881, aged 87--carried on the business of printer and bookseller at Alnwick--and James Catnach, were fellow apprentices, both being bound to learn the art of printing to the elder Catnach on the same day. This early-formed acquaintanceship continued throughout the remaining portion of Catnach's life, and whenever Mr. Mark Smith came to London in after years, he always visited Jemmy's house.

It was in consequence of the continued friendship existing between Mr. Mark Smith and Jemmy Catnach that the latter had often expressed a desire to serve his fellow-apprentice, should circumstances occur to render it necessary. The Alnwick election of 1826 promised to be a good one as regarded printing, and Mr. Smith anticipating a difficulty in getting through his work, applied to Catnach to know if he could render him any assistance. The result was that Jemmy at once proffered to go to Alnwick and take with him a small hand-press. After his arrival he seldom went out of the house, as all hands worked early and late, for, besides addresses, squibs, &c., they had to get out the state of the poll every afternoon, shortly after four o'clock. The number of addresses and squibs, in prose and verse, during this memorable election was enormous. The whole, when collected together, forms four good-sized volumes. The principal printers in Alnwick at this time, and who were engaged by the candidates, were Smith, Davison, and Graham. But there was a great deal of printing done at Newcastle, Gateshead, North Shields, Morpeth, and other towns.

There can be but little doubt that all who were professionally engaged at this election made a good thing out of it. The money spent upon printing alone must have been very great. And nearly all the public-houses in Alnwick were made "open houses," as well as most of those in the principal towns throughout the county. Old people talk to this day, with a degree of pride of "those good old times" that existed at the Parliamentary elections previous to the passing of the Reform Bill of 1832. As far as Catnach was concerned, he merely went to help to pay off a deep debt of gratitude owing by him to the Smith family for many past favours to his own family when they were in dire distress in _auld lang syne_. Besides, Jemmy was now getting towards that state known as being "comfortably well-to-do," and the trip was a change of air--a bit of a holiday, and a visit to the town of his birth. And as he had buried his mother in London during the early part of the year, he took the opportunity to erect in the parish churchyard, that which at once stands as a cenotaph and a tombstone, bearing the following inscription:--

"JOHN, Son of JOHN CATNACH, Printer, died August 27th, 1794, Aged 5 years & 7 months. JOHN CATNACH died in LONDON, 1813, Aged 44. MARY, his wife died Jany. 24th, 1826, Aged 60 years, Also John, Margaret, and Jane Catnach, lie here."[9]

During Catnach's absence from London on the Alnwick election, his old rivals--the Pitts family--were, as usual, concocting false reports, and exhibiting lampoons, after the following manner:--

"Poor Jemmy with the son of Old Nick, Down to Northumberland he's gone; To take up his freedom at Alnwick, The why or the wherefore's known to none.

"Before he went, he washed in soap and sud, The Alnwick folks they found the fiddle; Then they dragged poor Jemmy through the mud, Two foot above his middle.

The above was in allusion to the old ceremony of being dragged through the dirty pool to be made a Freeman of the town of Alnwick. But, as far as Catnach was concerned, there is no truth whatever in the matter, it was simply "a weak invention of the enemy." It was in the latter part of June and the beginning of July in the same year, that Catnach was at Alnwick, and the ceremony of making freemen always took place on St. Mark's Day, April 25th, or at least two months earlier.

Thus the statement of the Pitts' party was--

"As false As air, as water, as wind, as sandy earth, As fox to lamb, as wolf to heifer's calf, Pard to the hind, or step-dame to her son."

Catnach, as the high priest of the literature of the streets, surrounded by trade rivals, "stood like a man at a mark with a whole army shooting at him," but he was as firm as a rock and with the strength of a giant, and, as Hyperion to a Satyr, defied them all.

The destruction of the Royal Brunswick Theatre, Well-street, Wellclose-square, East London, on the 29th of February, 1828, by the falling in of the walls, in consequence of too much weight being attached to the heavy cast-iron roof, made a rare nine-day's wonder for the workers of street-papers. Fortunately the catastrophe happened in the day-time, during the rehearsal of "Guy Mannering," and only fifteen persons perished, viz:--

Mr. D. S. Maurice, a master printer, of Fenchurch-street, one of the Proprietors,

Mr. J. Evans _Bristol Observer_ Miss Mary A. Feron _Actress_, Miss Freeman _Corps de ballet_, Mr. E. Gilbert _Comedian_, Mr. J. Blamire _Property Man_, Mr. G. Penfold _Doorkeeper_, Miss Jane Wall _Visitor_, Mr. J. Purdy _Blacksmith_, Messrs. J. Miles, W. Leader, A. W. Davidson, M. Miles, and J. Abbott _Carpenters_, J. Levy, _A Clothesman_ (accidentally passing).

"Oh yes, sir! I remember well the falling of the Brunswick Theatre, out Whitechapel way. It was a rare good thing for all the running and standing patterers in and about ten miles of London. Every day we all killed more and more people--in our "Latest Particulars." One day there was twenty persons killed, the next day thirty or forty, until it got at last to be worked up to about a hundred, and all killed. Then we killed all sorts of people, Duke of Wellington, and all the Dukes and Duchesses, Bishops, swell nobs and snobs we could think of at the moment."

Four years after the Thurtell and Weare affair, namely, in the month of April, 1828, another "sensational" murder was discovered--that of Maria Marten, by William Corder, in the Red Barn, at Polstead, in the county of Suffolk. The circumstances that led to the discovery of this most atrocious murder, were of an extraordinary and romantic nature, and manifest an almost special interposition of Providence in marking out the offender. As the mother of the girl had on three several nights dreamt that her daughter was murdered and buried in Corder's Red Barn, and as this proved to be the case, an additional "charm" was given to the circumstance. The "Catnach Press" was again set working both day and night, to meet the great demand for the "Full Particulars." In due course came the gratifying announcement of the apprehension of the murderer! and the sale continued unabatingly in both town and country, every "Flying Stationer" making great profits by the sale.

The trial of Corder took place at Bury St. Edmonds, on the 7th of August, 1828, before the Lord Chief Baron (Anderson). The prisoner pleaded "_Not Guilty_," and the trial proceeded. On being called on for his defence, Corder read a manuscript paper. He declared that he deeply deplored the death of the unfortunate deceased, and he urged the jury to dismiss from their minds all that prejudice which must necessarily have been excited against him by the public press, &c. Having concluded his address, the Lord Chief Baron summed up, and a verdict of "_Guilty_" was returned. The Last Dying Speech and Confession had an enormous sale--estimated at 1,166,000, a _fac-simile_ copy of which with the "Lamentable Verses," said to have been written by Old Jemmy Catnach will be found on the next page.

CONFESSION AND EXECUTION OF WILLIAM CORDER, THE MURDERER OF MARIA MARTEN.

Since the tragical affair between Thurtell and Weare, no event has occurred connected with the criminal annals of our country which has excited so much interest as the trial of Corder, who was justly convicted of the murder of Maria Marten on Friday last.

THE CONFESSION.

"Bury Gaol, August 10th, 1828.--Condemned cell. "Sunday evening, half-past Eleven.

"I acknowledge being guilty of the death of poor Maria Marten, by shooting her with a pistol. The particulars are as follows:--When we left her father's house, we began quarrelling about the burial of the child: she apprehended the place wherein it was deposited would be found out. The quarrel continued about three quarters of an hour upon this sad and about other subjects. A scuffle ensued, and during the scuffle, and at the time I think that she had hold of me, I took the pistol from the side pocket of my velveteen jacket and fired. She fell, and died in an instant. I never saw her even struggle. I was overwhelmed with agitation and dismay:--the body fell near the front doors on the floor of the barn. A vast quantity of blood issued from the wound, and ran on to the floor and through the crevices. Having determined to bury the body in the barn (about two hours after she was dead). I went and borrowed a spade of Mrs Stow, but before I went there I dragged the body from the barn into the chaff-house, and locked the barn. I returned again to the barn, and began to dig a hole, but the spade being a bad one, and the earth firm and hard, I was obliged to go home for a pickaxe and a better spade, with which I dug the hole, and then buried the body. I think I dragged the body by the handkerchief that 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-floor. I declare to Almighty God I had no sharp instrument about me, and no other wound but the one made by the pistol was inflicted by me. I have been guilty of great idleness, and at times led a dissolute life, but I hope through the mercy of God to be forgiven. WILLIAM CORDER."

Witness to the signing by the said William Corder,

JOHN ORRIDGE.

Condemned cell, Eleven o'clock, Monday morning, August 11th, 1828.

The above confession was read over carefully to the prisoner in our presence, who stated most solemnly it was true, and that he had nothing to add to or retract from it--W. STOCKING, chaplain; TIMOTHY R. HOLMES, Under-Sheriff.

THE EXECUTION.

At ten minutes before twelve o'clock the prisoner was brought from his cell and pinioned by the hangman, who was brought from London for the purpose. He appeared resigned, but was so weak as to be unable to stand without support; when his cravat was removed he groaned heavily, and appeared to be labouring under great mental agony. When his wrists and arms were made fast, he was led round towards the scaffold, and as he passed the different yards in which the prisoners were confined, he shook hands with them, and speaking to two of them by name, he said, "Good bye, God bless you." They appeared considerably affected by the wretched appearance which he made, and "God bless you!" "May God receive your soul!" were frequently uttered as he passed along. The chaplain walked before the prisoner, reading the usual Burial Service, and the Governor and Officers walking immediately after him. Tho prisoner was supported to the steps which led to the scaffold; he looked somewhat wildly around, and a constable was obliged to support him while the hangman was adjusting the fatal cord. There was a barrier to keep off the crowd, amounting to upwards of 7,000 persons, who at this time had stationed themselves in the adjoining fields, on the hedges, the tops of houses, and at every point from which a view of the execution could be best obtained. The prisoner, a few moments before the drop fell, groaned heavily, and would have fallen, had not a second constable caught hold of him. Everything having been made ready, the signal was given, the fatal drop fell, and the unfortunate man was launched into eternity. Just before he was turned off, he said in a feeble tone, "I am justly sentenced, and may God forgive me."

The Murder of Maria Marten.

BY W. CORDER.

Come all you thoughtless young men, a warning take by me, And think upon my unhappy fate to be hanged upon a tree; My name is William Corder, to you I do declare, I courted Maria Marten, most beautiful and fair.

I promised I would marry her upon a certain day, Instead of that, I was resolved to take her life away. I went into her father's house the 18th day of May, Saying, my dear Maria, we will fix the wedding day.

If you will meet me at the Red-barn, as sure as I have life, I will take you to Ipswich town, and there make you my wife; I then went home and fetched my gun, my pickaxe and my spade, I went into the Red-barn, and there I dug her grave.

With heart so light, she thought no harm, to meet him she did go He murdered her all in the barn, and laid her body low; After the horrible deed was done, she lay weltering in her gore, Her bleeding mangled body he buried beneath the Red-barn floor.

Now all things being silent, her spirit could not rest, She appeared onto 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

"Oh, she lives snug in the Holy Land, Right, tight, and merry in the Holy Land, Search the globe round, none can be found So _accommodating!_ as Old Mother Cummins--of the Holy Land."

Catnach, like many others connected with the getting up of news broadsides and fly-sheets, did not always keep clear of the law. The golden rule is a very fine one, but, unfortunately, it is not always read aright; in some cases injured innocence flies at extremes. Jemmy Catnach for a long time had been living upon unfriendly terms with a party connected with the management of one of Mother Cummins's lodging-house establishments in the immediate neighbourhood, so out of spite printed a pamphlet, purporting to be the "Life and Adventures of Old Mother Cummins." Here Catnach had reckoned without his host, by reason of his not taking into consideration the extensive aristocratic and legal connection Mother Cummins had for her friends and patrons. The moment she was made acquainted with the "_dirty parjury_" that Jemmy Catnach had printed and caused to be publicly circulated, she immediately gave instructions to _her_ Attorney General to prosecute the _varmint_, when a warrant was applied for and obtained to search the premises of the Seven Dials printer. But Catnach got the news of the intended visit of the Bow Street Runners, and naturally became alarmed from having a vivid recollection of the punishment and costs in the case of the Drury-lane sausage makers, so the forme containing the libellous matter was at once broken up--"pied," that is, the type was jumbled together and left to be properly distributed on a future occasion. What stock of the pamphlets remained were hastily packed up and carried off to the "other side of the water" by John Morgan, one of Catnach's poets! while another forme, consisting of a Christmas-sheet, entitled "The Sun of Righteousness," was hurriedly got to press, and all hands were working away full of assumed innocence when the officers from Bow Street arrived at Monmouth-court, when, after a diligent search, they had very reluctantly to come to the conclusion that they were "a day behind the fair," and that the printer had been a little too sharp for them this time. But Mother Cummins did not mean to be so checkmated by Catnach and Co., and vowed to pursue him and his dirty blackguards to the end of the world and back again, and instructed her lawyers to serve him with several notices of action for libel, defamation of character, and, more particular, as she expressed it, for "_parjury_." Then Catnach became somewhat alarmed by her known vindictive disposition and long purse, that he consulted his own solicitor in the matter, who took "counsel's opinion" when an instant compromise at all costs, together with an ample apology, was recommended as the only safe way out of the dilemma; a course which was ultimately agreed to by both sides. An apology was drawn up and approved of, with the understanding that Catnach was, after paying all costs incurred to print the apology and publish the same on three several places in front of his business premises in Monmouth Court for fourteen clear days. All this--and more--Jemmy promised steadfastly to observe. Yet in effect, he evaded the conditions by printing the apology in small pica type and sticking the three copies so high up on the premises, that it would have required Sam Weller's "pair of double million magnifying gas microscopes of hextra power" to have been able to read the same.