THE OLD BAILEY.
The sessions of the Central Criminal Court commenced.
The street of the Old Bailey was covered with straw; and the pavement in
the neighbourhood of the doors of the court on one side, and of the
public-houses on the other, was crowded with policemen, the touters of
the barristers and attornies practising criminal law, and the friends of
the prisoners whose trials were expected to come on that day.
The press-yard, which is situate between the solid granite wall of
Newgate and the Court-house, was also flooded with living waves, which
rolled onwards from the street to the flight of steps leading into the
gallery of the Old Court. In former times, prisoners who refused to
plead, were pressed beneath immense weights, until they would consent to
declare themselves guilty or not guilty. This odious punishment was
inflicted in that enclosure: hence its name of the press-yard.
It cannot be necessary to describe the court-house, with its dark sombre
walls, and its huge ventilator at the top. Alas! the golden bowl of hope
has been broken within those walls, and the knell of many a miserable
wretch has been rung upon its tribunals from the lips of the judge!
The street of the Old Bailey presents quite an animated appearance
during the sessions;--but it is horrible to reflect that numbers of the
policemen who throng in that thoroughfare upon those occasions, have
trumped up the charges for which prisoners have been committed for
trial, in order to obtain a holiday, and extort from the county the
expenses of attending as witnesses.
At the time of which our tale treats, the sheriffs were accustomed to
provide two dinners for the judges every day; one at three, and the
other at five o'clock, so that those who could not attend the first,
were enabled to take their seats at the second. Marrow puddings,
beef-steaks, and boiled rounds of beef, invariably formed the staple
commodities of these repasts; and it was the duty of the ordinary
chaplains of Newgate to act as vice-presidents at both meals. This
ceremony was always performed by those reverend gentlemen: the
ecclesiastical gourmands contrived, during sessions, to eat two dinners
every day, and wash each down with a very tolerable allowance of wine.
We said that the Sessions commenced. On the Monday and Tuesday, the
Recorder in the Old Court, and the Common Sergeant in the New, tried
those prisoners who were charged with minor offences: on the Wednesday
the Judges upon the _rota_ took their seats on the bench of the Old
Court.
Richard Markham's name stood first for trial upon the list on that day.
He was conducted from Newgate by means of a subterraneous passage,
running under the Press-yard, into the dock of the Court.
The Hall was crowded to excess, for the case had produced a profound
sensation. The moment Markham appeared in the dock, every eye was fixed
upon him. His countenance was very pale; but his demeanour was firm. He
cast one glance around, and then looked only towards the twelve men who
were to decide upon his fate. Close by the dock stood Mr. Monroe:
Whittingham was in the gallery;--the Baronet, Chichester, and Talbot
lounged together near the reporters' box.
The Jury were sworn, and the counsel for the prosecution stated the
case. He observed that the prisoner at the bar was a young man who, upon
his majority, would become possessed of a considerable fortune; but
that in the mean time he had no doubt fallen into bad company, for it
would be proved that he was arrested by the police at a common gambling
house in the evening of the very same day on which he had committed the
offence with which he was now charged. It was but natural to presume
that this young man had imbibed the habit of gaming, and, having thereby
involved himself in pecuniary embarrassments, had adopted the desperate
and fatal expedient of obtaining money by means of forged Bank-notes,
rather than communicate his situation to his guardian. Where he procured
these forged notes, it was impossible to say: it would, however, be
satisfactorily proved to the jury that he passed a forged note for five
hundred pounds at the banking-house of Messrs. ----, and that when he was
arrested a second note for fifty pounds was found upon his person.
Several concurrent circumstances established the guilt of the prisoner.
On the evening previous to his arrest, the prisoner dined with Sir
Rupert Harborough, Mr. Chichester, and Mr. Talbot; and when these
gentlemen proposed a walk after dessert, the prisoner requested them to
accompany him to a common gaming-house in the Quadrant. They refused;
but finding him determined to visit that den, they agreed to go with
him, with the friendly intention of taking care that he was not
plundered of his money, he being considerably excited by the wine he had
been drinking. Ere he set out, the prisoner enquired if either of his
companions could change him a fifty pound note; but neither gentleman
had sufficient gold to afford the accommodation required. Now was it not
fair to presume that the prisoner intended to pass off upon one of his
friends the very forged fifty-pound note subsequently found upon him? On
the following day, the prisoner--the moment he was released from custody
on the charge of being found in a common gaming-house--hurried home, and
ordered his servants to prepare for his immediate departure for the
continent. He moreover wrote two letters, which would be read to the
jury,--one to a lady, and the other to his guardian,--and both
containing unequivocal admission of his guilt. The learned counsel then
read the letters, and commented upon their contents at some length.
There were several expressions (he said) which clearly tended to
self-crimination.--"_Circumstances of a very peculiar nature, and which
I cannot at present explain, compel me to quit London thus abruptly._"
"_I could not have remained in London another minute with safely to
myself._" "_I conceive it to be my duty--in consequence of rumours which
may shortly reach you concerning me--to inform you that I have this
moment only awoke to the fearful perils of the career in which I have
for some weeks past been blindly hurrying along, till at length
yesterday----._" "_I am penitent, deeply penitent: let this statement
induce you to defend and protect my reputation._" The last paragraph but
one, which concluded so abruptly with the words, "_till at length
yesterday---- _" clearly pointed to the crime with which the prisoner
was now charged; and the last paragraph of all undeniably implored Mr.
Monroe, the young man's guardian, to hush up the matter the moment it
should reach his ears.
The clerk at the banking-house, who changed the five hundred pound note
for the prisoner, then gave his evidence.
At length Sir Rupert Harborough was called into the witness-box; and he
deposed that the prisoner had dined with him on the evening previous to
his arrest; that he very pressingly solicited him (Sir Rupert), and Mr.
Chichester, and Mr. Talbot, to accompany him to the gambling-house; and
that he moreover, enquired if either of them could accommodate him with
change for a fifty pound note.
Mr. Chichester was called next. He stated the line of defence adopted by
the prisoner at Bow-street, and positively denied having ever given the
prisoner any notes to change for him.
Markham's counsel cross-examined this witness with great severity.
"What are you, sir?"
"A private gentleman."
"What are your means of subsistence?"
"I receive an allowance from my father."
"Who is your father? Now, take care, sir, how you answer that question."
"He is a commercial man, sir."
"Is he not a tradesman?"
"Well,--he is a tradesman, then--if you like it."
"Yes,--I do like it. Now--upon your oath--is he not a pawnbroker in
Brick-lane, Bethnal Green?"
"He is a goldsmith in a large way of business, and lends money
occasionally----"
"Ha!" complacently observed the counsel for the defence. "Go on, sir:
_lends money occasionally_--"
"Upon real security, I suppose," added Chichester, taken considerably
aback by these questions.
"Upon deposits; let us give things their proper names. He lends money
upon flannel petticoat--watches--flat-irons, &c.," observed the
barrister, with withering sarcasm. "But I have not done with you yet,
sir. Was your father--this very respectable pawnbroker--ever elevated to
the peerage?"
"He was not, sir."
"Then how come you by the distinction of _Honourable_ prefixed to your
name?"
Mr. Chichester hung down his head, and made no reply. The counsel for
the prisoner repeated the question in a deliberate and emphatic matter.
At length, Mr. Chichester was fairly bullied into a humble
acknowledgment "that he had no right to the distinction, but that he had
assumed it as a convenient West-End appendage." The cross examination
then proceeded.
"Did you not travel under the name of Winchester?"
"I did--in Germany."
"With what motive did you assume a false name?"
"I had no particular motive."
"Did you not leave England in debt? and were you not afraid of your
bills of exchange following you abroad?"
"There is some truth in that; but the most honourable men are frequently
involved in pecuniary difficulties."
"Answer my questions, sir, and make no observations. You will leave me
to do that, if you please. Now sir--tell the jury whether you were not
accompanied by a valet or coachman in your German trip?"
"I am always accustomed to travel with a domestic."
"A man who runs away from his creditors, should have more delicacy than
to waste his money in such a manner. When you were at Baden-baden, were
you not involved in some gambling transactions which compelled you to
quit the Grand-Duchy abruptly?"
"I certainly had a dispute with a gentleman at cards: and I left the
town next morning."
"Yes--and you left your clothes and your servant behind you--and your
bill unpaid at the hotel?"
"But I have since met my servant, and paid him more than double the
wages then due."
"You may stand down, sir," said the counsel for the defence--a
permission of which the witness availed himself with surprising
alacrity.
The counsel for the prosecution now called Mr. Whittingham. The poor
butler ascended the witness-box with a rueful countenance; and, after an
immense amount of badgering and baiting, admitted that his young master
had meditated a sudden and abrupt departure from England, the very day
upon which he was arrested. In his cross-examination he declared that
the motives of the journey were founded upon certain regrets which
Richard entertained at having permitted himself to be led away by
Messrs. Chichester and Talbot, and Sir Rupert Harborough.
"And, my Lords," ejaculated the old domestic, elevating his voice,
"Master Richard is no more guilty of this here circumwention than either
one of your Lordships; but the man that did it all is that there
Chichester, which bilked his wally-de-shamble, and that wulgar fellow,
Talbot, which called me _a tulip_."
This piece of eloquence was delivered with much feeling; and the Judges
smiled--for, they appreciated the motives of the honest old domestic.
The officer who arrested Markham, proved that he found upon his person,
when he searched him at Bow Street, a pocket-book, containing between
thirty and forty pounds, in notes and gold, together with a note for
fifty pounds.
A clerk from the Bank of England proved that both the note for five
hundred pounds changed at the bankers, and the one for fifty just
alluded to, were forgeries.
The case for the prosecution here closed; and the Judges retired to
partake of some refreshment.
Markham had leisure to think over the proceedings of the morning. He was
literally astounded when he contemplated the diabolical perjury
committed by Sir Rupert Harborough and Mr. Chichester; but he
entertained the most sanguine hope that the discredit thrown upon the
character of the latter would render his testimony worthless. He
shuddered when he reflected how ingeniously the counsel for the
prosecution had grouped together those circumstances which told against
him; and then again a ray of satisfaction animated his countenance, when
he remembered that his counsel would speedily show those circumstances
in a new light.
The Judges returned: silence prevailed throughout the hall; and the
prisoner's counsel rose for the defence. Richard seated himself in the
dock, and prepared to listen with the greatest attention to the speech
of his advocate; and Whittingham placed his hand in a curved position
behind his ear, in order to assist that organ on the present important
occasion.
The counsel for the defence began by giving some account of the family
and social position of the prisoner, who was born of parents accustomed
to move in the first rank of life, and who was the heir to a fortune of
no inconsiderable amount. During his minority, his guardian, who was
then present, had promised to allow the prisoner six hundred pounds
a-year. With these pecuniary advantages, it was absurd to suppose that a
young man of education--a young man whose noble and honourable feelings
had been the object of remark on the part of all his friends, and who
had only to express a want to his guardian, in order to receive its
immediate gratification--it was absurd to imagine that such an
individual would either enter into a conspiracy with others, or plan by
himself, for the purpose of raising money upon forged notes. No--this
young man was one of a most generous and confiding disposition; and, as
he had seen but little of the world, he was totally unacquainted with
its wiles and artifices. Thus was he made the dupe of some designing
villains, at his very outset upon life. The whole history of the present
transaction was to be summed up in a few words. A gang of conspirators
had hit upon the desperate mode of passing forged notes, in order to
retrieve their ruined fortunes. Not as magnanimous as the highwayman who
perils his own existence while he perpetrates a crime, these men
required a tool of whom they might make use, and who could be at any
time sacrificed to save them. This instrument--this scapegoat, was the
prisoner at the bar. The witness, whose real name was Chichester, but
who, by his own confession, had travelled on the Continent under another
denomination, was not a person on whom the Jury could place any
reliance. He had assumed a distinction to which he was by no means
entitled--he had affected all the arrogance and importance of a man of
rank and fashion,--whereas he was the son of a pawnbroker in the refined
locality of Brick-Lane, Bethnal Green! Endowed with much impudence,
clever in imitating the manners of his superiors, and well versed in all
the intricacies and subtleties of the world, this possessor of assumed
distinctions--this swaggering imitator of a class far above him--this
adventurer, with fascinating conversation, ready wit, amusing anecdote,
and fashionable attire,--this _roué_ of the present day, with jewellery
about his person, and gold in his pocket--allowing ever an engaging
smile to play upon his lips, and professing unmitigated disgust at the
slightest appearance of vulgarity in another,--this individual--this Mr.
Chichester was the principal witness whom the counsel for the
prosecution had brought forward. But no English Jury would condemn a
fellow creature upon such testimony--the testimony of one who was
compelled to fly ignominiously and precipitately from Baden, on account
of some rascality at cards, and who left his domestic in a strange land,
pennyless, ignorant of the language, and surrounded by the odium which
also attached itself to the name of his master. The prisoner had no
motive in passing forged notes, because he was wealthy;--but Mr.
Chichester had a motive, because he evidently lived far beyond the means
which his father could allow him.
The learned counsel here related the manner in which Richard had been
induced to change the larger note, and had become possessed of the
smaller.
[Illustration]
He then proceeded to observe, that the letters addressed to Mrs.
Arlington and Mr. Monroe related to the fact that the prisoner's eyes
had been suddenly opened to the characters of his associates, and to the
career of dissipation in which they were leading him. The phrase upon
which so much stress had been laid--"_till at length yesterday_----"
alluded to the suicide of a young officer, which had taken place while
the prisoner was at the gambling-house, whither he had been inveigled
instead of inveigling others. "_He could not have remained in London
another minute with safety to himself._" And why? because these
associates whom he had accidently picked up, would not leave him quiet.
They regularly beset him. "_He was penitent_;" and he hoped that Mr.
Monroe would "_defend and protect his reputation_." Yes--when the
newspaper reports conveyed to the knowledge of that gentleman the fact
that his ward had been arrested in a common gambling-house, and fined
for being there. The letters were written hurriedly, and were ambiguous:
thus they were susceptible of more than one interpretation. Let the jury
interpret them in favour of the prisoner. It was better to send a dozen
guilty men back again into society, terrible as that evil would be, than
to condemn _one_ innocent person. Then, with regard to the precipitate
departure: the witness Whittingham had shown, in his cross-examination,
that the prisoner's object was to escape from the three men whose
characters were suddenly unveiled to him. It was said, that the prisoner
had requested those three individuals to accompany him to the
gaming-house, and that they at first refused. Oh! amazing
fastidiousness--especially on the part of Chichester, who had been
compelled to decamp from Baden, for cheating at cards! Then it was
stated that the prisoner asked for change for a fifty-pound note; and it
was said, that he would have availed himself of that accommodation to
pass a forged note. Why--he (the learned counsel) had already explained
how that fifty-pound note came into the prisoner's possession--his own
gold having been transferred by Mr. Chichester to Sir Rupert
Harborough's writing-desk! The learned counsel concluded, by asking how
it happened that no other forged Bank of England notes--no copper-plates
to print them with--no materials for such a fraud, were found at the
prisoner's house? Could it be supposed that a young man with his
prospects would risk his reputation and his safety for a few hundreds of
pounds? The idea was preposterous. The prisoner's counsel entered into a
few minute points of the evidence which told in favour of his client,
and wound up with a powerful appeal to the jury in his behalf.
Richard followed, with absorbing interest, the able defence made for him
by his counsel; and his soul was filled with hope as each fact and
argument in his favour was divested of all mystery, and lucidly
exhibited to the consideration of the court.
Mr. Monroe was summoned to the witness box, and he proved the statements
made by the prisoner's counsel relative to the pecuniary position of his
ward. Snoggles, the ostler, followed, and very freely stated all the
particulars of his late master's precipitate decampment from Baden.
Thus terminated the case for the defence.
The counsel of the prosecution--according to that odious right which
gives the accusing party the last word in those instances where the
defendant has called witnesses--rose to reply. He stated that neither
the wealth nor the social position of an individual afforded a certain
guarantee against crime. Besides, the law must not always be swayed by
the apparent absence of motives; because some of the most extraordinary
deeds of turpitude upon record had never been traced to a source which
could satisfactorily account for their origin. The _perpetration_ was
the object which the jury had to keep in view; and the use of evidence
was to prove or deny that perpetration by some particular individual. A
forgery had been committed, and money obtained by the prisoner at the
bar through the agency of that forgery. The defence had not attempted to
deny that the prisoner was the individual who had thus obtained the
money. The point to be considered was, whether the prisoner knew the
note to be a forged one; and he (the learned counsel) considered that an
assemblage of circumstances of a most unequivocal nature stamped the
prisoner with that guilt. Mr. Chichester's evidence went to show that he
himself never gave any notes to the prisoner. Even if Chichester were
proved to be a disreputable person, there was nothing beyond the
prisoner's mere assertion (made through his counsel) to prove that he
had received the two notes from Chichester. Mr. Chichester had certainly
assumed another name during his German tour, but it was for the purpose
of avoiding arrest in a foreign land upon bills of exchange which might
have been sent from England after him. He had, moreover, assumed the
distinction of _Honourable_--a foolish vanity, but by no means a crime;
for half the Englishmen who were called _Captain_, were no more captains
than he (the learned counsel) was.
The senior judge now summoned up the evidence to the jury; and the most
profound interest was still manifested by all present in the
proceedings. The learned judge occupied nearly two hours in his charge
to the jury, whom he put in possession of all the points of the case
which it was necessary to consider.
The jury retired, and debated for a considerable time upon their
verdict.
This was the dread interval of suspense. Richard's countenance was
deadly pale; and his lips were firmly compressed in order to prevent any
sudden ebullition of feeling--a weakness to which he seemed for a moment
inclined to yield. Mr. Monroe did not entertain much hope; the summing
up of the judge had been unfavourable to Markham. As for Whittingham, he
shook his head dolefully from time to time, and murmured, loud enough to
be heard by those near him, "Oh! Master Richard, Master Richard! who
would ever have propulgated an opinion that you would have been brought
into such a fixture as this? It's all along of them fellers which call
butlers _tulips_!"
How singularly reckless is the mind of man with regard to the destinies
of those to whom he is not connected by any ties of blood or friendship!
While the jury were absent, discussing their verdict, the various
barristers, assembled round the table, began chattering together, and
laughing, and telling pleasant anecdotes, as if the fate of a
fellow-creature was by no means compromised at that moment. The counsel
for the prosecution, who had done his duty by exerting all his talents,
all his energies, and all his eloquence, to obtain the conviction of a
youth who had never injured him, and whom he had never seen before,
coolly took up a newspaper and perused it with evident gratification;
while, at a little distance from him, stood the individual whom he had
so zealously and earnestly sought to render miserable for life!
How strange!--how horribly depraved and vitiated must be that state of
society in which hundreds of talented men are constantly employed, with
large recompense, in procuring the condemnation of their
fellow-creatures to the scaffold, the hulks, or eternal banishment! And
what an idea must we entertain of our vaunted condition of consummate
civilization, when we behold these learned men calling to their aid
every miserable chicanery, every artificial technicality, and every
possible exaggeration, to pursue the accused prisoner either to the
platform of the gibbet, to loathsome dungeons, or to the horrors of
Norfolk Island. Does society avenge?--or does it merely make examples of
the wicked to warn others from sin? If the enquirer who asks himself or
us these questions, would only attend the Central Criminal Court, he
would hear the barristers for the prosecution imploring, coaxing, and
commanding the jury to return such a verdict as will either condemn a
human being to the scaffold, or separate him for ever from home, wife,
children, kindred, and friends! He would find men straining every nerve,
availing themselves of every miserable legal quirk and quibble,
torturing their imaginations to find arguments, calling subtlety and
mystification to their aid, shamefully exaggerating trivial incidents
into important facts, dealing in misrepresentation and false deduction,
substituting and dovetailing facts to suit their purposes, omitting
others which tell against their own case, almost falling upon their
knees to the jury, and staking their very reputation on the
results,--and all these dishonourable, disgraceful, vile, and inhuman
means and efforts exerted and called into action for the sake of sending
a fellow-creature to the scaffold, or separating him for ever from the
family that is dependant upon him, and that will starve without him!
O God! is it possible that man can have been made for such sad purposes?
is it possible that the being _whom thou hast created after thine own
image_, should be so demon-like in heart?
Oh! if the prisoner standing in the dock had inflicted some terrible
injury upon the honour or the family of the barrister who holds a brief
against him, then were it easy to comprehend that profound anxiety on
the part of this barrister, to send the trembling criminal to the
gallows! But, no--that barrister has no revenge to gratify--no hatred to
assuage--no malignity to appease; he toils to take away that man's life,
with all his strength, with all his talent, and with all his energy,
because he has received gold to do his best to obtain a conviction!
Ah! what a hideous traffic in flesh and blood!
And if any one were to say to that barrister, "Thou art a blood-thirsty
and merciless wretch," he would answer coolly and confidently, "No: on
the other hand, I subscribe to philanthropic institutions!"
The jury returned; and the feeling uppermost in their minds was
satisfaction at the prospect of being so speedily dismissed, to their
respective homes, where they would pursue their efforts after wealth,
and speedily forget the youth whom they had condemned to punishment, and
whose prospects they had blasted.
For their verdict was _Guilty_!
And the judges hastened to terminate the proceedings.
Richard was commanded to rise, and receive the sentence of the court. He
obeyed with a kind of mechanical precision--for his mental energies were
entirely prostrated. The voice of the judge addressing him rang like the
chimes of distant bells in his ears;--the numerous persons whom he
beheld around, appeared to be all moving and agitating like an immense
crowd assembled to witness an execution.
He stood up as he was commanded; and the Judge proceeded to pass
sentence upon him. He said that the court took his youth into
consideration, and that there were circumstances which would render a
very lenient sentence satisfactory to that society which had been
outraged. The court accordingly condemned him to two years' imprisonment
in the Giltspur Street Compter, without hard labour.
"That's all!" said the spectators to each other; and they appeared
disappointed!
The audience then separated.