himself of this means of escape, without much thought about his
saviour. Few men under the like circumstances would have acted otherwise
than he did. It is only in such cases as a ship on fire at sea that
heroism, which is ordinarily slow in its manifestations, rises to the
height of that generosity which seeks the preservation of another rather
than oneself. Trade does not, perhaps, tend to bring out the finest
qualities of our nature. Domestic affections are the most rapid in
generating a spirit of self-denial or self-sacrifice. Brother may yield
the boon or privilege of life to his brother, the husband to his wife,
or the mother to her child; but strangers, or casual acquaintances, are
not given to the manifestation of those sublime virtues, self-abnegation
and self-sacrifice.
Perhaps, however, Mr. Phillimore might not have parted with the first
chance of extrication from the now rapidly consuming flames, if he had
not been enabled, by professional sagacity and long training, to
ascertain that his own best means of self-preservation really lie
through the preservation, in the first instance, of his companion. He
had a better chance of extrication when Mr. Newton had reached the cool
earth below, than while he remained in the upper story dreading every
moment that most horrible of all fates--death by fire. When the one man
most liable to panic had been removed from peril, the other would have
entire command, as he saw, of such agencies as were then within the
equal control of both.
Mr. Phillimore converted one of the sashes into a sort of windlass, or
made it at least serve the purpose of a pulley, and by a process that
requires no description he lowered the frightened man to within a yard
or two of the ground, the rope being not quite long enough to permit of
his feet touching.
While dangling in this position, the crowd below shrieked and shouted,
and were palsied and confused. One or two, however, had sufficient
presence of mind to understand the crisis, and they instantly flew to a
neighbouring builder's yard, from which a ladder was procured tall
enough to reach the height at which Mr. Albert Newton was suspended.
The flames at this moment were just beginning to shed their vivid light
through an adjacent window on the ground-floor at this angle of the
building when the last means of escape arrived. It was the work of a
moment to plant the ladder against the wall. One cool-headed fellow
ascended the steps, placed his arm round the waist of his suspended and
now almost lifeless master, disengaged him from the rope, and brought
him down in safety amid the shouts of the crowd beneath.
Meanwhile second thoughts had entered the head of Mr. Phillimore, whose
danger had been of course greatly increased during the space of time
covered by the incidents I have just narrated. He ran about the floor in
search of further rope, perceiving for the first time, perhaps, that he
would require a greater length to effect his own deliverance. Happily,
in a packing-case he discovered some other pieces of cord, not so
reliable in quality as that which had completed a work of mercy in his
hands; but of course he had to use such material as he could, and to
trust the contingencies of its strength and tension. He had spliced the
pieces of rope he last discovered, which were of short lengths and
unequal thickness the one to the other, when his attention was again
aroused by the voice of the crowd below, shouting to warn him that the
flames were beginning to burst from every opening at the end of the
building beneath his feet; while, it may be observed, the fire had also
just begun to reach the third story at the end where it commenced.
Newton had before this been released, and the further extremity of the
rope which had encircled his body had itself began to catch fire.
The coolness and discrimination of Mr. Phillimore began to desert him.
He told me that he became sensible of giddiness or approaching vertigo.
By a strong effort of will he conquered the present most serious danger,
and his judgment and prudence rose again with the extremity of his
peril.
He joined all the rope together--that which he had last found to that
which had been used in the deliverance of Newton--and fastening one end
of the cord round his body, he slowly and cautiously lowered himself
until he began to feel the scorching flames about his extremities.
The cord was not quite long enough!
Another awful sensation of approximate death overtook him; and he
afterwards informed me that he knows not how he contrived to complete
the work of his own deliverance.
In truth, however, as I afterwards learned from two of the bystanders,
with, it seemed to them, wonderful regularity, although with
extraordinary speed, he continued to lower himself right through a mass
of belching flame. When he landed on the ground, it was seen that his
coat-tails were ignited, and that his face was terribly scorched. He
must have closed his eyes, or he would inevitably have been blinded.
Happily the fire had not consumed the wall nor the floor, and it was
possible for three or four of the most daring spectators to rush
forward, seize the now swooning and senseless man, and carry him off to
a surgeon's hard by. Here he received immediate attention, and he was
afterwards removed to an hotel, where he lay delirious for several days;
but at length his reason was restored, his wounds dressed, and he was
enabled to proceed to his residence in London. Under the skilful
treatment of an eminent surgeon, he thoroughly recovered. Although a
trace or two of the flames were indelibly marked upon his countenance,
they were but faint or slight traces.
Nothing effectual could be done for the preservation of the building.
The fire for some time pursued its devastating course altogether without
let or hindrance. At length an engine from the town-hall arrived, and
began to throw a feeble jet of water among the flames. It seemed,
however, to produce not the slightest possible effect, and its operation
looked very like a satire or mockery. The entire of the building was
gutted; the whole of the stock, materials, &c., of the factory were
consumed; the machinery was rendered useless, and not much less than
20,000_l._ damage was altogether perpetrated; but this included the
injury to the old premises, which were insured by the landlord.
I cannot tell how it happened that very imperfect reports of this fire
reached London, or were circulated in the newspapers of the district.
Perhaps it was, as I have been told, because the local reporter was a
man of inferior descriptive power, and unable to give didactic interest
or picturesqueness to the narrative he wrote, without which, it is
needless to inform the reader, no account of any thing is palatable to
the reading public, and with which comparatively small matters can be
made interesting, or even sensational. Perhaps it was because Mr.
Newton's brother and co-partner did not want to invest the case with
more importance than he could possibly help, and was indeed rather
anxious that no more noise should be made about it than was inevitable.
I have heard it stated that he knew the only representative of the local
press in the town, and sought him out, or was sought out by him, and
that he dictated or inspired the feeble and uninteresting narrative that
was published of the event.
These circumstances or rumours are just of sufficient importance to the
developments of the case I am about to describe to justify my stating
them.
I should mention that Mr. Henry Newton, the other proprietor of the
manufactory, was absent at Birmingham. He was indeed travelling on
behalf of the firm of which he was a member, and knew nothing of the
catastrophe until informed of it by a telegram, when he of course
repaired homewards with all possible speed.
The cause of this fire was never certainly ascertained; but a likely
hypothesis, which a jury might believe, was that it arose out of the
negligence of the gas-fitters. These men went to dinner at the same time
as the ordinary work-people of the factory; and on doing so, stopped by
a wooden plug one end of a gas-pipe that was connected to the metre, and
enveloped an unfinished joint, also near to the metre, in white lead and
tow. The gas at this time was not turned on at the metre, or so it was
thought; and the most mysterious feature of the case is, how it was
afterwards turned on. This point, however, could not be cleared up, and
the _onus_ of so doing did not, of course, rest upon the insured.
In due course a claim was made upon the company. It was investigated;
and although suspicions were entertained in the neighbourhood of the
Mansion House, where their office was situate, that the calamity was the
work of an incendiary, the fact could not be proved, and the amount of
the insurance was ultimately paid.
Messrs. Newton contended that the sum they obtained from the fire-office
was insufficient to cover the value of their machinery, stock, fixtures,
&c. They further alleged that they had sustained considerable loss by
the suspension of their trade, and they accordingly brought an action
against the gas company who supplied the town, and who had undertaken to
lay the pipes in the premises.
This action was defended up to the day of trial, and stood high on the
special-jury list at Guildhall one morning. The cause immediately
preceding it had nearly terminated. The judge was summing up in that
cause. A rather numerous body of spectators (among whom I might have
been seen) were awaiting, with various degrees of interest, the case of
"Newton _v._ the H---- Gas Company."
At this stage of the case, a consultation across the bar took place
between Sergeant Bustle and Mr. Quicke, Q.C., the principal learned
counsel or "leaders" for the plaintiff and for the defendant, which
ended in their suggesting to his Lordship (Mr. Baron Snapwell) that an
arrangement might probably be effected between the parties, if his
Lordship would kindly permit the case to stand over until to-morrow. His
Lordship, with a show of reluctance, but I believe with perfect
willingness to get rid of a long and intricate case, consented to the
request, and all I have further to tell the reader about it is, that the
anticipations of these learned gentlemen were realised.
A compromise was effected. Messrs. Newton Brothers obtained a rather
liberal sum by way of further compensation for their injuries and loss
through the conflagration.
Another extraordinary and suspicious circumstance was the death shortly
afterwards of Mr. Paterson, the late proprietor of this establishment,
to whom Newton Brothers were indebted in a considerable sum. This
happened about four months after the fire, and under these
circumstances. He was living in the town, not having yet determined
into what fresh business he would embark, and not, it is believed,
having received all the consideration he had bargained for from the firm
to whom he had transferred his business.
The Newtons and Mr. Paterson had been passing an evening at the Dove
Hotel, and had taken rather more brandy-and-water than any rational idea
of temperance would sanction. Mr. Paterson left the Dove before the
Newtons.
His way lay across a canal, and in the morning he was found drowned. He
had tumbled, as it appeared, somehow over the low parapet into the
water. The Newtons left the house after him, and found their way home to
their beds in safety. A coroner's inquest sat upon the body of the
deceased, and returned an open verdict of "Found drowned." Some people
in the town and neighbourhood, among whom were the Newtons, professed
much grief at the calamity. The new firm said, indeed, it appeared as if
the place and all connected with it were under a spell or a brand. They
declared that it seemed as if Providence had resolved nothing should
prosper in connexion with this particular manufactory. How, or for what
reason, they could not tell; but here was the death, it might be by
accident, or it might be by suicide, in a state of drunkenness, of their
predecessor, not long after they had lost every thing (as they in the
freedom of their language said they had) through a fire on the premises.
The insurance company heard of the death of Mr. Paterson, and the
secretary got it into his head that the Newtons were incendiaries and
murderers--that they had killed this man for some evil reason best
known to themselves. He consulted the solicitors of the company, and
they employed me to sift the mystery, and, if it turned out that the
secretary's suspicions were justifiable, to spare no trouble or expense
in obtaining evidence upon which to prosecute the alleged miscreants.
I went down secretly, and investigated all the circumstances as far as I
could. I collected a variety of little scraps of fact, which left no
doubt in my mind that the secretary was right. I came, indeed, to the
conclusion that these Newtons were the vilest wretches who had for a
long time been permitted to escape the hangman. Yet, frankly let me say,
I could not gather enough information on which to rest an indictment
with the likelihood of securing a conviction.
I need hardly point out to the reader how very complete my evidence must
have been before I could have recommended the company to incur the risk
of a prosecution. If, for instance, they failed in conclusively
establishing the guilt of the insurers, the institution would be
irreparably damaged in public estimation. Popular opinion, and newspaper
commentators, would say the company set up this odious defence in order
to escape payment of a just claim. The accused would be elevated into
the ranks of martyrdom. The company would have to pay all that was
demanded from them, with costs, and they might almost as well afterwards
give up business, or set the lawyers to work to liquidate the affairs of
their institution in Chancery. So that after laying my statement in
detail before the solicitors of the company (who paid me handsomely for
my services), they drew up a report with their comments and opinions
upon my facts; the matter was considered by the board of directors, and
there for the time it dropped.
It was not exactly dropped either. I was employed to keep my eye upon
the Newtons without intermission for a couple of years, if I felt it
necessary to prolong the scrutiny so far--which instructions I had no
unwillingness to obey.
Through the medium of several of my assistants, who were changed from
time to time, the subsequent career of these persons was noted down with
a degree of accuracy which afterwards proved very useful to the
interests of metropolitan insurance companies in particular, and to the
interests of society and the cause of justice in general.
Among the persons in the town where the dismantled factory was situate
whose acquaintance I made, and whose confidence I thought I had gained,
was the widow of the drowned late proprietor. She grieved over the
premature loss of her husband, but had no apparent suspicion, or at
least disclosed to me no suspicion, that he had met his death by foul
play. I, among other expedients, condoled with her, discoursed about the
lamentable effects of intoxication, eulogised the memory of her husband,
lightly and softly touching the subject of that peculiar weakness for
the bottle which had led to his untimely death. But none of these
conversations elicited from her any suggestion that he had been murdered
by the Newtons.
Not long after the money had been paid I discovered that, clever as I
thought I had been, I had been outwitted; but not by the Newtons, about
whom let there be no further mystery with the reader. They were what the
secretary had thought, and what I had become convinced--they were vile
wretches, fit for the hangman, and rotten-ripe for the gallows. I had
been outwitted by a woman's ingenuity. No one suspected me or my mission
in the town (as it afterwards turned out) except the widow Paterson. She
had somehow got to know my name and real character, and had been fencing
with me or humbugging me, and was prepared, when occasion or opportunity
arose, to use me. At the risk of losing some of my _prestige_ with the
reader, I am frank enough to fairly admit this.
Shortly after Messrs. Newton Brothers had received the reward of their
villany from the fears of the insurance company, and, so to speak,
through the broken links in the evidence of their rascality and
scoundrelism, an anonymous letter was received by me, the substance of
which I may communicate to the reader. It was a statement in effect that
the insurance company had been robbed by the Newtons, who had set fire
to their own factory in order to achieve their ends; and that the writer
was, under proper guarantees, disposed to put me on the track of a
successful investigation into the mystery of the crime. The writer
required that I should answer the letter, in the first place, by an
advertisement in the second column of the _Times_, on the morning of the
third day after receipt of the letter. The form of that advertisement
was given me, which I was only to insert if I consented to the terms,
could give the required guarantees, and was prepared to follow up the
clue to be communicated to me.
I saw the solicitors of the company, and with them saw the secretary,
when it was arranged that I should accept the terms, see the writer,
give the guarantee, and follow up the investigation as it might seem to
me expedient, drawing from the company such expenses and remuneration as
I might think necessary to incur. After the advertisement, and one or
two preliminary letters, I met the writer of the first letter at an
appointed place. The writer of that letter was the widow Paterson. She
was a remarkable woman, that Mrs. Paterson; by no means handsome or
beautiful, yet by no means decidedly the reverse of either. She was not
masculine, and she had certainly none of the delicacies of her sex. She
was an unscrupulous, designing, wicked woman, cherishing and respecting
her own comfort and material welfare more than any thing else. I believe
she was sorry to lose her husband, but anxious to make the best use of
her misfortune, and chiefly disappointed when she ascertained that his
loss also involved the loss of money due to him which she expected to
have had the enjoyment of in connexion with him.
When we met we were a little embarrassed. She was startled by the
success of her former _ruse_ and concealment. I was disconcerted, if not
somewhat humbled, by the then evident truth that I had been all along
known to her while I had been, as I thought, pumping her. This
embarrassment, however, soon yielded to business. She gave me an
insight into a plot of which I had hitherto not had a complete idea.
She could not positively assert that her husband had been murdered. On
that head she had her suspicions, as others had. All she could say
distinctly was, that the Newtons had burned down their house. The fact
was, that her husband had been embarrassed. The Newtons had seen this,
and proposed to him an elaborate scheme for defrauding the insurance
company. The same means would also enable him to get time from his
creditors, who might afterwards be arranged with, or "satisfied" by a
bankruptcy, as thereafter should seem desirable. Meanwhile the Newtons
and he were to take parts in the great scheme of fraud. They settled
between them the extension of the premises and the burning of the
manufactory, the claim upon the company, and the division of the spoil.
All these arrangements had been carried out, as the reader is aware,
except the last part of the programme, which was the subject of another
fraud, illustrating a truth I have so frequently insisted upon--that
there is no honour among thieves.
Newtons might or might not have overtaken Paterson after he left the
Dove, who, being drunk, could not walk towards his home very quickly.
They might or might not have pitched him over the canal-bridge into the
water; but it was clear that they conceived his death gave an
opportunity for cheating him, or rather his widow, out of his share of
the proceeds of their joint crime. Mrs. Paterson was in her husband's
confidence about the destruction of his premises. This was a little
circumstance the Newtons were unacquainted with. On the other hand,
Paterson had often told them that he did not let his wife know every
thing, and had so frequently spoken in disrespectful terms of the gentle
sex (especially on the score of speech or intrigue), that he led them to
believe his wife knew nothing about the conspiracy; but in point of fact
she had been informed all about it. She had held her peace, since
Paterson's death, to see how Messrs. Newton would behave when they got
the insurance money, secretly having resolved all the while that if they
played her false, or did not hand over to her what she considered her
fair share, or what it was arranged her husband should have, she would
"let the cat out of the bag," and assist the officers of justice in
raising that firm to the level of a platform outside the county gaol,
where Mr. Jack Ketch had previously been known to perform in a few
dismal tragedies. When the Newtons got the money she boldly made her
demand upon them. They affected to be indignant, and they menaced her
with a criminal information for slander, which raised her fears a
little, for she did not clearly see how she was to establish her case
against them. She was lawyer enough to know that in any criminal
proceedings against her, her mouth would be shut, by the forms of that
branch of English jurisprudence. It required not much self-possession on
her part to hold her tongue a while longer, to simulate, if not
satisfaction, at least resignation, at the loss of her share of the
plunder. She however determined to place herself in communication with
me, in the full reliance that I could with her aid, overtake the
villains, who had not been true to their compact of rascality, and get
them punished, as they deserved to be, if not for their original crimes,
for their want of honour to the confederate.
I listened to her story, and noted all the circumstances she could
relate. I made another report, that went through the same ordeal or
ceremonial which my former report was submitted to, and with about the
like result. This woman's evidence was tainted. She did not indeed want
to be brought forward. She trembled under the fear of being murdered by
some other confederates of the Newtons, if she were the ostensible and
avowed agent of their punishment. She wanted "the thing done without
using her." It appeared to me, and to the other adviser of the insurance
company, that with her evidence a prosecution of the Newtons was not a
perfectly safe experiment; and that without such support an indictment
was an exceedingly dangerous expedient for the company.
It is needless to observe that the disclosures of this woman rendered
the fact of the Newtons' crime doubly certain to _us_; but all that
could still be done was to watch and wait another opportunity for
bringing these wretches to justice.