table in his cell. The first contained reasons for his attempt upon his
life, and was as follows:--"What am I better than my fathers? To die is
natural and necessary. Perfectly sensible of this, I fear no more to die
than I did to be born. But the manner of it is something which should,
in my opinion, be decent and manly. I think I have regarded both these
points. Certainly no man has a better right to dispose of a man's life
than himself; and he, not others, should determine how. As for any
indignities offered to my body, or silly reflections on my faith and
morals, they are, as they always were, things indifferent to me. I
think, though contrary to the common way of thinking, I wrong no man by
this, and hope it is not offensive to that eternal Being that formed me
and the world: and as by this I injure no man, no man can be reasonably
offended. I solicitously recommend myself to that eternal and almighty
Being, the God of Nature, if I have done amiss. But perhaps I have not;
and I hope this thing will never be imputed to me. Though I am now
stained by malevolence and suffer by prejudice, I hope to rise fair and
unblemished. My life was not polluted, my morals irreproachable, and my
opinions orthodox. I slept sound till three o'clock, awaked, and then
writ these lines--
Come, pleasing rest! eternal slumbers, fall!
Seal mine, that once must seal the eyes of all.
Calm and composed my soul her journey takes;
No guilt that troubles, and no heart that aches.
Adieu, thou sun! all bright, like her, arise!
Adieu, fair friends, and all that's good and wise!"
The second was in the form of a letter, addressed to a former companion,
and was in the following terms:
"MY DEAR FRIEND,--Before this reaches you, I shall be no more a living
man in this world, though at present in perfect bodily health: but who
can describe the horrors of mind which I suffer at this instant?
Guilt--the guilt of blood shed without any provocation, without any
cause but that of filthy lucre--pierces my conscience with wounds that
give the most poignant pains! 'Tis true the consciousness of my horrid
guilt has given me frequent interruptions in the midst of my business or
pleasures; but yet I have found means to stifle its clamours, and
contrived a momentary remedy for the disturbance it gave me by applying
to the bottle or the bowl, or diversions, or company, or business;
sometimes one, and sometimes the other, as opportunity offered: but now
all these, and all other amusements, are at an end, and I am left
forlorn, helpless, and destitute of every comfort; for I have nothing
now in view but the certain destruction both of my soul and body. My
conscience will now no longer suffer itself to be hoodwinked or
browbeat: it has now got the mastery; it is my accuser, judge, and
executioner: and the sentence it pronounceth against me is more dreadful
than that I heard from the bench, which only condemned my body to the
pains of death, which are soon over; but conscience tells me plainly
that she will summon me before another tribunal, where I shall have
neither power nor means to stifle the evidence she will there bring
against me; and that the sentence which will then be denounced will not
only be irreversible, but will condemn my soul to torments that will
know no end.
"Oh! had I but hearkened to the advice which dear-bought experience has
enabled me to give, I should not now have been plunged into that
dreadful gulf of despair which I find it impossible to extricate myself
from; and therefore my soul is filled with horror inconceivable. I see
both God and man my enemies, and in a few hours shall be exposed a
public spectacle for the world to gaze at. Can you conceive any
condition more horrible than mine? O, no! it cannot be! I am determined,
therefore, to put a short end to trouble I am no longer able to bear,
and prevent the executioner by doing his business with my own hand, and
shall by this means at least prevent the shame and disgrace of a public
exposure, and leave the care of my soul in the hands of eternal mercy.
Wishing you all health, happiness, and prosperity, I am, to the last
moment of my life, yours, with the sincerest regard,
"EUGENE ARAM."
It is impossible to view the circumstances of this remarkable case,
without being struck with the extraordinary conduct of Aram. It is most
singular that a man of his talents and mind should have leagued himself
with a person like Houseman, who appears to have been utterly
uneducated, in the commission of a murder, and with the hope only of
gain; for whatever his declarations after his conviction may have been,
as to his object being revenge only for the supposed injury which had
been done him by his victim in the seduction of his wife, his ready
acquiescence in the plot with another, and his willing acceptance of the
plunder which was obtained, distinctly show that that was not the only
end which he sought to attain. If, indeed, his feelings were outraged,
as he suggested, he would have selected some other mode of obtaining
that satisfaction to which the injury alleged would have entitled him;
and it is hardly to be supposed that he would have obtained the
assistance of another to secure the object which he had in view, more
particularly when it appears that it was he who absolutely committed the
foul act, without the immediate aid of Houseman,--a circumstance which
clearly exemplifies the power which he possessed to dispose of his
victim, and which would seem to show a desire on his part only to obtain
the participation of another in a preconceived act, anticipating
doubtless that some aid would be necessary in appropriating and
disposing of the property which might be procured from the deceased, and
also that some advice would be requisite in the event of suspicion
attaching to him. But while these circumstances cannot but surprise us,
how much more astonishing is the Divine power of Providence, which
disclosed to human eyes, after so long a lapse of time, such evidence as
in the result proved the commission of the crime, and which secured the
seizure of the criminal, who had up to that time remained unsuspected,
and who even then was living in fancied security, free from all fear of
discovery and apprehension! It is said that
"--- Murder! though it have no tongue, will speak
With most miraculous organ:"
and how truly is this observation of the most wonderful of poets
exemplified by nearly every page of these records of crime!
WILLIAM ANDREW HORNE, ESQ.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The short notice which we give of this man exhibits a human being
reduced far below the level of a beast.
The subject of the memoir was the eldest son of a gentleman of fortune
in Nottinghamshire, who in vain strove to instil into the mind of his
son any of those principles of rectitude, without which man cannot be
considered to be humanised. The sports of the field, and all the
dissipation which a country squire could at that time obtain, formed the
amusements of this reckless youth. His passion for women was unbounded;
but his love of gold surpassed all the other bad qualities which so
peculiarly distinguished him. It was while his father yet lived that he
committed that crime for which his life was eventually forfeited; and it
appears to have occurred in the following manner:--
His passion for women led him to commit the most disgusting excesses;
and at length so far had he carried his crimes, that an incestuous
connexion took place between him and his sister, the result of which was
the birth of a boy in the month of February 1724; Horne told his brother
Charles of the circumstance three days afterwards, and at ten o'clock at
night said that he must take a ride with him. He then put the new-born
infant in a bag; and, mounting their horses, they rode to Annesley, in
Nottinghamshire, at the distance of five miles, carrying the child
alternately. On their arrival near the village, William dismounted and
inquired if the child was living; and being answered in the affirmative,
he took it and told his brother to wait till he came back. On his
return, Charles demanded to know how he had disposed of the infant; to
which he said that he had placed it behind a hay-stack, and covered it
with hay.
They then returned home; and it was afterwards learned that the child
died in the course of the night from exposure to the cold; but in a
short time afterwards a quarrel arising between the brothers, the whole
transaction was communicated by Charles to his father. The latter
enjoined him to the strictest secrecy; and this injunction was obeyed up
to the time of the old man's death, which occurred in the year 1747, in
the 102nd year of his age. The real estate of the family, being
entailed, then descended to the eldest son; but the father had
previously made over his personal property by deed of gift to his son
Charles. No sooner had the new squire assumed the government of the
estate than he behaved with the utmost severity towards his brother as
well as his tenants; and at length the former, rendered miserable by his
participation in the horrid act, having some business to transact with
Mr. Cooke, an attorney at Derby, told him of the long-concealed affair,
and asked his advice. The lawyer told him to go to a justice of the
peace and make a full discovery of the whole transaction; and he
accordingly went to a magistrate, and acquainted him with what had
happened. He hesitated to take cognizance of the matter, however, saying
that it might hang half the family; and as it had passed so many years
ago, advised that it might remain a secret.
No further notice of the circumstance was then taken until the year
1754, when Charles being suddenly seized with a severe fit of illness,
called in a Mr. White of Ripley, to whom, in anticipation of his death,
he disclosed all that had occurred. Mr. White declined to interfere; but
his patient almost immediately recovered, declaring that "he had been
better ever since the weight of the transaction had been taken off his
mind by his making the disclosure."
The discovery, however, soon became a matter of notoriety; and William
Horne having a quarrel with a publican named Roe, the latter called him
"an incestuous old dog." A suit in the Ecclesiastical Court at Lichfield
was the consequence; and Roe being unsuccessful, was ordered to pay all
the costs. This circumstance inflamed him with revenge; and having made
such inquiries as persuaded him of the truth of the report which he had
heard, he procured a warrant to be issued for the apprehension of his
late opponent. A constable of Annesley and he in consequence proceeded
to the house of the squire at about eight o'clock in the evening, and
after having experienced considerable difficulty, succeeded in obtaining
admittance. A strict search was then commenced; but it was not until a
long time had elapsed that they discovered the object of their inquiry
concealed in a large box, which had been described as containing clean
linen. He was immediately carried before two justices, who committed him
to take his trial at the following assizes.
On the 10th of August 1759, he was brought to trial before Lord Chief
Baron Parker; and after a hearing of about nine hours, the jury found
him guilty, and sentence of death passed of course.
Horne being convicted on a Saturday, was sentenced to die on the Monday
following; but a number of gentlemen waited on the judge, intimating
that he had been so long hardened in iniquity, that a farther time would
be necessary to prepare him for his awful change, and a respite of a
month was in consequence granted.
When this time was nearly expired, he received a reprieve during his
majesty's pleasure; so that he began to entertain hopes of obtaining a
free pardon: and he employed a considerable part of his time in writing
to his friends to make interest to secure this object. He, however,
confessed the justice of his conviction, but seemed little affected by
the enormity of his crime, and frequently said, "it was d--d hard to
suffer on the evidence of a brother for a crime committed so many years
before."
He gave the following account of the transaction:--He said he had no
design of destroying the infant, but put it in a bag lined with wool,
and made a hole in the bag that it might not be stifled. He added, that
the child was handsomely dressed, and he had intended to have left it at
the door of Mr. Chaworth, of Annesley; but the dogs barking, and there
being a light in the house, he desisted from his first intention, in
the fear of a discovery. After some hesitation, he said, he resolved to
place it under a warm hay-stack, in the hope that, when the servants
came to fodder the cattle in the morning, it would be found.
He acknowledged to a clergyman who assisted him in his devotions that he
forgave all his enemies, even his brother Charles; but made the
following strange addition to his speech: "that if, at the day of
judgment, God Almighty should ask him how his brother behaved, he would
not give him a good character."
The hopes of a pardon which he had entertained soon proved unfounded;
and an order arrived for his execution on the 11th December 1759, on
which day he completed his 74th year, and terminated his life on a
scaffold erected at Nottingham.
LAURENCE, EARL FERRERS.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
Laurence, Earl Ferrers, was a man of singular and most unhappy
disposition. Descended of an ancient and noble family, he was doomed to
expiate a crime, of which he had been guilty, at Tyburn.
It would appear that the royal blood of the Plantagenets flowed in his
veins, and the earl gained his title in the following manner:--The
second baronet of the family, Sir Henry Shirley, married a daughter of
the celebrated Earl of Essex, who was beheaded in the reign of Queen
Elizabeth; and his son, Sir Robert Shirley, died in the Tower, where he
was confined during the Protectorate, for his attachment to the cause of
the Stuarts. Upon the Restoration, the second son of Sir Robert
succeeded to the title and estates; and Charles, anxious to cement the
bonds which attached his friends to him, summoned him to the Upper House
of Parliament by the title of Lord Ferrers of Chartley, as the
descendant of one of the co-heiresses of the Earl of Essex; the title,
which had existed since the reign of Edward III., having been in
abeyance since the death of that unfortunate nobleman. In the year 1711,
Robert, Lord Ferrers, was created by Queen Anne, Viscount Tamworth and
Earl Ferrers; and it appears that although the estates of the family
were very great, they were vastly diminished by the provisions which the
Earl thought proper to make for his numerous progeny, consisting of
fifteen sons and twelve daughters, born to him by his two wives. At the
death of the first earl, his title descended to his second son; but he
dying without issue, it went in succession to the ninth son, who was
childless, and the tenth son, who was the father of the earl, Laurence,
the subject of the present sketch.
This nobleman was united in the year 1752 to the youngest daughter of
Sir William Meredith; but although his general conduct when sober was
not such as to be remarkable, yet his faculties were so much impaired by
drink, that when under the influence of intoxication, he acted with all
the wildness and brutality of a madman. For a time his wife perceived
nothing which induced her to repent the step she had taken in being
united to him; but he subsequently behaved to her with such
unwarrantable cruelty, that she was compelled to quit his protection,
and rejoining her father's family, to apply to Parliament for redress.
An act was in consequence passed, allowing her a separate maintenance
to be raised out of her husband's estate; and trustees being appointed,
the unfortunate Mr. Johnson, who fell a sacrifice to the ungovernable
passions of Lord Ferrers, having been bred up in the family from his
youth, and being distinguished for the regular manner in which he kept
his accounts, and his fidelity as a steward, was proposed as receiver of
the rents for her use. He at first declined the office; but
subsequently, at the desire of the Earl himself, he consented to act,
and continued in this employment for a considerable time.
His lordship at this time lived at Stanton, a seat about two miles from
Ashby de la Zouch, in Leicestershire; and his family consisted of Mrs.
Clifford, a lady who lived with him, and her four natural daughters,
besides five men-servants, exclusive of an old man and a boy, and three
maids.
Mr. Johnson lived at the house belonging to the farm, which he held
under his lordship, called the Lount, about half a mile distant from
Stanton. It appears that it was his custom to visit his noble master
occasionally, to settle the accounts which were placed under his care;
but his lordship gradually conceived a dislike for him, grounded upon
the prejudice raised in his mind on account of his being the receiver of
the countess' portion, and charged him with having combined with the
trustees to prevent his receiving a coal contract. From this time he
spoke of him in opprobrious terms, and said he had conspired with his
enemies to injure him, and that he was a villain; and with these
sentiments he gave him warning to quit an advantageous farm which he
held under his lordship. Finding, however, that the trustees under the
act of separation had already granted him a lease of it, it having been
promised to him by the earl or his relations, he was disappointed, and
probably from that time he meditated a more cruel revenge.
The circumstances immediately attending the transaction, which
terminated in the death of Johnson, are as follow:--
On Sunday the 13th of January 1760, my lord went to the Lount, and after
some discourse with Mr. Johnson, ordered him to come to him at Stanton
on the Friday following, the 18th, at three o'clock in the afternoon.
His lordship's usual dinner-hour was two o'clock; and soon after that
meal was disposed of, on the Friday, he went to Mrs. Clifford, who was
in the still-house, and desired her to take the children for a walk. She
accordingly prepared herself and her daughters, and with the permission
of the earl went to her father's, at a short distance, being directed to
return at half-past five. The men-servants were next despatched on
errands by their master, who was thus left in the house with the three
females only. In a short time afterwards Mr. Johnson came according to
his appointment, and was admitted by one of the maid-servants, named
Elizabeth Burgeland. He proceeded at once to his lordship's apartment,
but was desired to wait in the still-house; and then, after the
expiration of about ten minutes, the earl calling him into his own room,
went in with him and locked the door. Being thus together, the earl
required him first to settle an account, and then charging him with the
villany which he attributed to him, ordered him to kneel down. The
unfortunate man went down on one knee; upon which the earl, in a tone of
voice loud enough to be heard by the maid-servants without, cried, "Down
on your other knee; declare that you have acted against Lord Ferrers;
your time is come--you must die:" and then suddenly drawing a pistol
from his pocket, which was loaded, he
[Illustration: _Lord Ferrers shooting his Steward._]
presented it and immediately fired. The ball entered the body of the
unfortunate man; but he rose up, and entreated that no farther violence
might be done him; and the female servants at that time coming to the
door, being alarmed by the report, his lordship quitted the room. A
messenger was immediately despatched for Mr. Kirkland, a surgeon, who
lived at Ashby de la Zouch; and Johnson being put to bed, his lordship
went to him and asked him how he felt? He answered that he was dying,
and desired that his family might be sent for. Miss Johnson soon after
arrived, and Lord Ferrers immediately followed her into the room where
her father lay. He then pulled down the clothes, and applied a pledget,
dipped in arquebusade water, to the wound, and soon after left him.
From this time it appears that his lordship applied himself to his
favourite amusement, drinking, until he became exceedingly violent (for
at the time of the commission of the murder he is reported to have been
sober), and on the arrival of Mr. Kirkland he told him that he had shot
Johnson, but believed he was more frightened than hurt; that he had
intended to shoot him dead, for that he was a villain and deserved to
die; "but," said he, "now I have spared his life, I desire you would do
what you can for him." His lordship at the same time desired that he
would not suffer him to be seized, and declared, that if any one should
attempt it, he would shoot him. Mr. Kirkland, who wisely determined to
say whatever might keep Lord Ferrers from any further outrages, told him
that he should not be seized, and directly went to the wounded man.
The patient complained of a violent pain in his bowels; and Mr. Kirkland
preparing to search the wound, my lord informed him of the direction of
it, by showing him how he held the pistol when he fired it. Mr. Kirkland
found the ball had lodged in the body; at which his lordship expressed
great surprise, declaring that he had tried that pistol a few days
before, and that it then carried a ball through a deal board near an
inch and a half thick. Mr. Kirkland then went down stairs to prepare
some dressings, and my lord soon after left the room. From this time, in
proportion as the liquor which he continued to drink took effect, his
passions became more tumultuous, and the transient fit of compassion,
mixed with fear for himself, which had excited him, gave way to starts
of rage and the predominance of malice. He went up into the room where
Johnson was dying, and pulled him by the wig, calling him villain, and
threatening to shoot him through the head; and the last time he went to
him he was with great difficulty prevented from tearing the clothes off
the bed, that he might strike him.
A proposal was made to him in the evening by Mrs. Clifford, that Mr.
Johnson should be removed to his own house; but he replied, "He shall
not be removed; I will keep him here to plague the villain." He
afterwards spoke to Miss Johnson about her father, and told her that if
he died, he would take care of her and of the family, provided they did
not prosecute.
When his lordship went to bed, which was between eleven and twelve, he
told Mr. Kirkland that he knew he could, if he would, set the affair in
such a light as to prevent his being seized, desiring that he might see
him before he went away in the morning, and declaring that he would rise
at any hour.
Mr. Kirkland, however, was very solicitous to get Mr. Johnson removed;
and as soon as the earl was gone, he set about carrying his object into
effect. He in consequence went to Lount, and having fitted up an
easy-chair with poles, by way of a sedan, and procured a guard, he
returned at about two o'clock, and carried Mr. Johnson to his house,
where he expired at about nine o'clock on the following morning.