Part 28

Amongst the other peculiarities of the present cases, we may remark that such acts of savage atrocity are rather out of place in so civilized a community as that in which we live. They are not in unison with the moral tone of society. Crimes of violence are generally supposed to be the natural product of barbarism. They grow up to frightful maturity in that congenial soil; and all savage communities are accordingly distinguished by cruelty, and the most profligate indifference to human life. As mankind improve, and as knowledge is diffused, those crimes disappear, and are succeeded by others sufficiently odious, no doubt, but still of a less atrocious nature. The same process by which we cultivate the intellectual faculties, would seem also to open the heart to more humane sentiments, and to more kindly feelings. But however we may improve society and diffuse instruction, there is still a vast expanse of ignorance, poverty, and vice, which we may lessen by active efforts, but which we cannot altogether remove; and it is in this intellectual desert, if we may so speak, where nothing that is humane, enlightened, or moral ever springs up to refresh the eye, that crimes are produced. Under the influence of ignorance, all the best affections of the human heart wither and lie dead; and it is chiefly from those who are within its sphere that the ranks of crime are recruited, and that occasionally such wretches arise as Burke, Bishop, Williams, and Cook, who distance all competitors in iniquity, and shock the feelings of the age by their enormous crimes. It will generally be found that these criminals are not only wicked and immoral, but that they are uneducated and ignorant, living, no doubt, in a civilized community, and with certain habits of civilization, scarcely, if at all, raised above the level of savages. Hence the vast importance to society of the diffusion of knowledge, of bringing all ranks under some process of mental tuition, and of establishing schools where instruction and morality--for they go together--are retailed at a cheap rate. It is only in this way that we can insure the decrease of crimes, and more especially of such atrocious crimes as have been recently perpetrated.

It may appear paradoxical, but it is nevertheless true, that in proportion as civilization has advanced in this country, crime has risen in its enormity. The philosopher is at a loss to account for the existence of this anomaly; for if an effect be in direct opposition to the principles of the cause, there must be either something deficient in that cause, or that it has been erroneously selected as the means requisite to produce the desired end. The cosmopolite looks into the history of other nations, and comparing the extent of crime which took place whilst they were in a state of barbarism and ignorance, with that which is exhibited when they have emerged from their savage state, and the light of science and of learning has been diffused around them, he is struck with astonishment at the difference which is displayed, and is thence apt to draw his conclusion, that it would have been better for the interests of society if man had remained in his rude, uncultivated state, than, by enjoying the supposed advantages of civilization, have progressed in crime and villainy.

In regard to the principle that it is only the uneducated and the ignorant who are the perpetrators of the greatest crimes, our daily experience flatly contradicts it. May was by no means an uneducated man. And if we take a still further retrospective view, and investigate the character and condition of Burke, we are led still more decidedly to adhere to the opinion that the quantum of crime does not depend upon the extent or the deficiency of education. In fact, such is the strong tendency of mankind to revolt from the idea of such unnatural enormities being committed in aught of human shape, that when the system of traffic which had been practised by Burke and his associates first flashed in full disclosure on men's understandings, not a few were inclined to search, in some extenuating circumstances of this kind, for a cause of palliation of this unparalleled wretch's iniquity. It was at least not an impossible supposition that the wretched man might have been labouring under a total insensibility of moral and even of intellectual feeling, arising from an entire want of education, from a mind dull and inert in its perceptions, originally, and not only in after life allowed to lie waste, but rendered still more callous and impassive every day by a constant contact with scenes of infamy. Could we, indeed, imagine that Burke had been left to have his character formed under an accumulation of influences fatal and awful to contemplate as these are,--that his life had been always spent in profligate habits and dissolute haunts,--that he had been born with a ferocious and indocile nature, and bred in situations which barred all progressive movements to good,--that, in short, he never had any ideas poured into his intellect, or any human feelings generated in his bosom,--then, perhaps, it might furnish matter of curious investigation to the metaphysician, whether he were not, after all, a case which called for deep sympathy. But a sufficiency of the history of this extraordinary man has transpired to show that he at least was not placed in any such deplorable predicament. His education and rank of life, instead of having been by any means of the lowest order, were such as, in the judgment of the world, and on the authority of experience, are held of necessity to humanize and inform the mind, and to communicate perfectly just conceptions of moral distinctions. It must also appear singular that the mind of Burke was by no means closed against the truths of religion. He was brought up in the Roman Catholic faith; but as a Catholic, he was considered wonderfully free from prejudice, frankly entering into discussions upon the doctrines of his church, or those of other sects, with whose tenets he showed some acquaintance. He read the Scriptures, particularly the New Testament, and other religious books, and discussed their merits. On a Sabbath especially, although he never attended a place of worship, he was seldom to be seen without a Bible, or some book of devotion in his hands. He attended the prayer meetings which were held on the Sunday evenings in the Grass-market, Edinburgh, and was for some time remarked as one of its most regular and intelligent members. He never omitted one of its meetings, and expressed much regret when they were discontinued. In addition to this, many people hold it to have been made out that Burke was a man of strong mind, and of an understanding much superior to his condition. When, therefore, he stood convicted before his country as one who, for his livelihood, had been a wholesale dealer in human slaughter, he stood without the benefit of one single mitigating circumstance to weaken the profound sense of horror and indignation which pervaded all hearts.

We have touched upon this trait in the character of Burke, for the purpose of establishing the negative, that even religion is not sufficient to deter men from the commission of the most horrid crimes. We have recently had an instance in the case of Holloway, in whose mind the principles of religion were inculcated at an early period, and who professed to adhere to those principles whilst standing on the scaffold, that they were in themselves incompetent to deter him from the commission of one of the most horrid murders recorded in the annals of the country. If, therefore, neither education, civilization, nor religion be sufficient to effect the prevention of crime, to what other power are we to have recourse in order to bring about such a desirable benefit for the human race? We despair of giving a satisfactory answer to that question. The penal laws of the country have been found insufficient; in fact, notwithstanding their unexampled severity, and which is stigmatized as a national disgrace, the most heinous crimes continue to be perpetrated, as if there were no laws existing by which the criminal could be punished for his misdeeds.

It would occupy too much of our pages to enter here into any disquisition on the effect of capital punishments on the morals of the people; but we cannot forbear expressing our opinion that the legislators of this country appear to be the most ignorant of any of those nations professing to be civilized, in all matters on which the prevention of crime depends; and whilst they have before them such a splendid example of human wisdom as the code of Napoleon, they will still adhere to the customs of their forefathers, which assimilate not with the present state of society, and which have been found to be, and are declared wholly inefficacious as a remedy for the evil which they pretend to cure.

As a female, Mrs. Cook may be considered as one of the most atrocious murderers of the age in which she lived, or of any preceding one. Essentially, and in her real character, an ignoble, base, meanspirited wretch, this wholesale assassin, by the mere extinction or obliteration of every moral principle and feeling of her nature, now stands out in strong relief from the long and black catalogue of those who have most signalized themselves by their daring violation of the laws both of God and man. Ordinary homicides slay from passion or revenge; the murders they commit are the product of an ungovernable and overmastering impulse which hurls reason from her seat, and in the wild conflict of guilty passion, precipitates them into the commission of acts, which are no sooner done, than they would perhaps give the universe if they were undone. But Cook and her criminal predecessors possess the horrid and anomalous distinction of having, without the palliation of passion, or of any other motive which a just view of human infirmity can admit in extenuation, and from a base and sordid love of gain, and of acquiring the means of rioting in drunkenness, profligacy and iniquity of every sort, established a traffic in blood, upon principles of cool calculation, and an utter recklessness of either God or man, which would have done no discredit to Mammon himself. Hence it is that Bishop, Williams, and the others convicted of the horrid crime of Burking, are perhaps the only criminals who have died on the scaffold, not only without exciting an emotion of pity in a human bosom, but amidst the curses, both loud and deep, of the assembled thousands who witnessed the ignominious termination of their guilty career. The wild shouts of exultation which saluted them upon their appearance on the scaffold, and which rung in their ears with still fiercer acclamations when the world was closing on them for ever, must have appalled even the hearts of ice within their worthless bosoms, and sounded as the knell of a judgment to come, where the spirits of the slain would rise up before them, to demand a just retribution.

Were we to select any of the most atrocious cases which are recorded in the Newgate Calendar, we could not perhaps select one more appropriate to warn the juvenile offender from the horrid vice of drunkenness, than the case which is now before us of Mrs. Cook. To her inordinate love of spirits may be traced almost all the crimes which she committed. Her first step, after obtaining possession of her ill-gotten wealth, was to the gin-shop; where, having drank to excess, she would take home with her an additional quantity, wherewith to plunge herself in all the loathsomeness of drunkenness.

Would that we could here read a warning lesson to those who indulge themselves in the horrid vice of drunkenness, as the certain precursor of their final ruin, and the destruction of all their earthly hopes. There is scarcely any vice which entails more complicated misery upon the unhappy wretch that is a slave to it, than intoxication. It gradually undermines the strength and vigour both of body and mind. We every day see the most deplorable effects of this most shameful vice in the ruined health, constitution, and fortune of vast numbers of our fellow-creatures. How many ingenious and industrious persons has this vice rendered useless and worthless! How many happy families does it daily reduce to beggary and indigence! How many innocent sufferers does it involve in its deplorable consequences! How many have we known who began life creditably and reputably, with a basis on which, through industry and virtue, to rear the structure of an ample fortune, by contracting these fatal and cursed habits, have ruined themselves and their families for ever; for of all vices, there is no one so incurable as this, when it is once contracted. Other vices leave us with age; this fixes its roots deeper, and acquires strength and firmness with declining years. It kindles an infernal spark, which is absolutely inextinguishable.

It was, however, against the juvenile part of the community that Mrs. Cook directed her thieving propensities, in order to supply herself with the daily means of satisfying her desire for spirits. It was about two years ago that she decoyed a little boy from his home, by telling him that she would take him to see his aunt. She conducted him through several courts and alleys, from East Smithfield to Goodman's-yard; and then, having enticed him into one of the dark corners, took from him a quartern loaf, and the change of half-a-crown. She even took the frill off the child's neck, and then told him to stay until she returned. It is, however, surprising with what acuteness some boys are apt to watch the motions of others; and on this occasion all the actions of Mrs. Cook were strictly watched by a youth, as if a suspicion had taken root in his juvenile mind that some nefarious action was about to be perpetrated. He followed Mrs. Cook and her youthful victim to Goodman's-yard, and after having watched her departure, he joined the little dupe, who was anxiously awaiting the return of the 'good old lady,' and immediately took him home to his father, a jeweller, of the name of Harris, in East Smithfield, who made the boy a present of a silver medal for his good and meritorious conduct.

When Mrs. Cook was brought before the magistrates at Lambeth-street office, charged with the murder of Mrs. Walsh, she was identified as the person who had committed the theft on the unsuspicious boy. She, however, did not deny the charge, thinking it perhaps of minor importance, and seemed to treat it as a mere trifle, and wholly unworthy of her consideration. This, however, was by no means the only case which has come to our knowledge, in which this female fiend committed her depredations on the young and the helpless. About eight months ago, she was observed by a gentleman of the name of Chapman, from his back window in Prescott-street, which looks upon the Tenter-ground, playing with two children, and giving them cakes and apples. This lasted for about half an hour, when she ultimately succeeded in enticing them out of the ground. Mr. Chapman suspected that the woman had some evil design in view towards the children, as he judged, from the style of their dress, that they did not belong to her, and went into Prescott-street, for the avowed purpose of meeting her with the children. On coming up to her, he inquired if the children belonged to her; to which she answered, that, although they did not belong to her, she knew them very well, and was going to take them home; giving him at the same time to understand, that it would be as well if some people would attend to their own business, and not interfere with that which does not concern them. Mr. Chapman, however, was not to be daunted by the rude and insolent conduct of the wretch; and on further inquiry he found that everything which she had said was false, and done with the intent to deceive him. Her real design was to decoy the children to her home, and there either to rob them of their apparel, and turn them shivering into the streets, or secretly to make away with them, to replenish her funds towards the support of her drunken habits. During the time that she was confined at Lambeth-street office, under the charge of the murder of Mrs. Walsh, Mr. Chapman came to the office, and identified her as the same woman from whose devices he had rescued the two children.

Mr. Lea informs us, that he is acquainted with five persons whom Mrs. Cook had attempted to entice to her lodgings to sleep, but who were saved by the suspicious nature of her proceedings, and the infamy of her character, which was so well known throughout the whole of the neighbourhood where she resided. One circumstance, however, deserves particular mention, as it will display the art and cunning with which this wretch carried on her nefarious practices, and against which the most wary could not be always upon their guard. There was an old woman, whom Mrs. Cook had selected as one of her victims, and into whose good graces she had tried, though in vain, to ingratiate herself. She had pertinaciously refused to accept of her frequent invitations to drink a cup of coffee with her, and to spend a _social_ hour, as both of them had a great deal of time upon their hands, which might be agreeably passed over a cup of coffee; and perhaps she would be able to raise a sufficiency to purchase a quartern of gin wherewith to regale themselves before parting. Mrs. Cook soon found, that although no immediate attraction existed for the old woman in a cup of coffee, yet that there was something which could not be resisted in the glass of gin. She therefore began by throwing herself in the way of the old woman, who hesitated not to accept the invitation to enter the first gin-shop which presented itself; and Mrs. Cook began to rise many degrees in her good opinion, on account of the kind and liberal manner in which she treated her with her favourite beverage. Mrs. Cook soon perceived that the suspicions of the old woman were beginning to be lulled; and she at last admitted Mrs. Cook so far into her confidence, as to inform her of her place of residence; and it ultimately turned out, when almost in a state of complete intoxication, that the old woman confessed that she had for some time gained a precarious livelihood by robbing little children of their apparel, or any valuables that might be about them. Mrs. Cook was, however, too much upon her guard to make the same disclosure; but she saw in the confession of the old woman a certain instrument of accomplishing the purpose which she had in view. She was therefore determined to watch the motions of the old woman more narrowly, not doubting that she should soon succeed in entrapping her in one of her petty thefts, and then the remainder of her plan was easy of execution. The opportunity was not long in presenting itself; for having once detected her in taking a coral necklace from the neck of a child, she quietly betook herself home, and in a few hours afterwards she repaired, apparently in the greatest bustle, to the lodgings of the old thief, informing her that the police officers were in search of an old woman, answering in every particular her description, who was accused of having stolen a coral necklace from a little girl; and although she did not mean to say that the theft had been actually committed by her, yet as it was by no means improbable, she considered that it was but acting the part of the friend, supposing her to be guilty, to warn her of the danger which impended over her; and in what manner could she show her regard more strongly than by offering her an asylum in her lodgings until the officers had slackened in their pursuit, or had wholly relinquished it as a fruitless task. The snare was deeply laid; but in this instance it was cunning arrayed against cunning, and the victim escaped by removing herself from the neighbourhood altogether; but she was afterwards detected in her thefts in another part of the town, and sentenced to six months imprisonment, and hard labour in the House of Correction.

In regard to the manner in which Mrs. Cook disposed of the bodies, a considerable degree of light was thrown upon it by an anonymous letter, received by the Hon. G. C. Norton, of Lambeth police-office, in which letter some dark insinuations were thrown out respecting a medical gentleman, who was in the habit of giving lectures within four hundred yards of Mrs. Cook's house. It was also stated in this letter that Mr. J----y was very fond of cheap subjects; and, in fact, intimating that his house was the receptacle of dead bodies, no matter by what means they were procured. In consequence of the receipt of this letter, Mr. Lea requested Mr. J----y to attend before Mr. Norton, as it was natural to suppose that some information might be elicited from him, which might supply some links that were wanting in the chain of evidence against Mrs. Cook; for it was not improbable that the body of Mrs. Walsh might be actually traced into his possession. Mr. J----y, however, when before the magistrate, positively denied all knowledge of the body of Mrs. Walsh; and further, that he never knew the prisoner under the name of Cook, but under that of Ross; and that was merely from attending her in his professional capacity. At the time when she was under examination in the name of Cook, Mr. J----y almost took upon himself the character of her advocate; and he endeavoured very much to draw Mr. Norton's attention from the statement of young Cook, and even to discredit it altogether. He alluded particularly to that part of the statement which touched upon Mrs. Walsh having taken coffee with Mrs. Cook; as it was not to be supposed that a person of her character was not better acquainted with the anti-narcotic power of coffee, than to administer it to the person whose life she contemplated; and consequently the taking of the coffee would go in some degree to defeat the measure which she had in view. He himself, he said, always took coffee to keep him awake, whenever he had any nocturnal cases in hand; and there was no proof adduced that any soporific medicine had been administered to Mrs. Walsh, which, in all probability, would have been the case, had she committed the murder with which she was charged. He then proceeded to remark on the impossibility of the death of the old woman having taken place, according to young Cook's statement, without the most violent struggle; and further, that it almost amounted to an impossibility for Mrs. Cook to have committed the murder by her own individual power, without the assistance of some other person; nor was it likely that the father of the boy should be standing all the time that the work of death was going on, near the fireside, and withhold his assistance towards the accomplishment of the murder.

There is an old adage, which says, an injudicious friend is a dangerous enemy; and in this instance the warm and indiscreet manner in which Mr. J----y espoused the cause of Mrs. Cook, only aggravated the suspicions against her, at the same time that neither the private nor the professional character of the individual himself was exalted by the measure.

On leaving the office, Mr. J----y said to Lea, 'Some one will be let in for this by and bye;' an insinuation which had at the time its various interpretations; but the one to which the greatest probability was attached, was, that it had some reference to the collusion which existed between himself and the accused parties, relative to some previous transactions in the disposal of dead bodies, all of which were supposed to find their way to the lecture-room of Mr. J----y.