them, but was for some moments again interrupted by the renewed shouts
of the populace from without. Silence having been restored, the learned
Judge proceeded. He began by eulogizing the patient and diligent
attention bestowed on their case by the jury, whose verdict was just
recorded; and of that jury he might state, what he often had occasion
to remark of juries in that box, that nothing but the most satisfactory
evidence, and a conviction of the solemn obligation they owed to their
Maker and to their country, could induce them to pronounce a verdict
which was to consign some of their fellow-men to a disgraceful death.
He fully concurred in the verdict they had pronounced, which was
supported by the most conclusive evidence.
The prisoner BISHOP.--By false evidence, my Lord.
The learned RECORDER went on, and addressing himself to the prisoners,
observed, that he would not encroach, by any lengthened remarks, on the
very short time that was to intervene between their sentence and their
appearance in the presence of their Creator. A month had now elapsed
since their first committal for this crime, and he hoped that that time
had been employed by them in looking back on their past lives,--on the
horrible agony which they had inflicted on the feelings of so many
of their fellow-men,--and on the dreadful outrage on human nature of
which they were now convicted. But, however they might have spent the
time past, he earnestly adjured them, by their hopes of mercy, to
lose not an instant of the few hours which yet remained to them, in
constant prayers to Almighty God for pardon through the merits of their
Redeemer. After pointing out to them the spiritual assistance which
would be afforded to them in prison, the learned Judge concluded by
passing upon each of them the sentence of the law, which was, that each
of them be hanged on the following Monday morning, and their bodies be
delivered over for dissection and anatomization.
The prisoners heard their sentence, as they had heard the verdict,
without any visible alteration in their manner. They stood at the bar,
as if expecting that something more would be added. When ordered to
be removed, May raised his voice, and, in a firm tone, said, 'I am a
murdered man, gentlemen, and that man (pointing to Bishop) knows it.'
The prisoner Williams said, 'We are all murdered men.' He then
addressed himself to one or two of the witnesses at the side bar, and
said, that before three months they would suffer for the false evidence
they had given against him.
Bishop made no observation, but retired from the bar even more absorbed
by his awful situation than he had appeared before.
The prisoners were then removed, and in a short time after the crowd
outside the court dispersed.
From a momentary forgetfulness on the part of the Recorder, when
passing sentence of death upon Bishop, Williams, and May, these
wretches nearly escaped the additional judgment of dissection. The
Recorder, in the usual manner, had ordered them to be hanged on the
following Monday, and was passing on to the end of his address, 'and
the Lord have mercy upon your souls,' when Mr. Justice Littledale
whispered to the learned gentleman, who then stopped short in the
concluding sentence, and ordered their bodies to be given up for
dissection.
On Saturday night, when the prisoners were removed each to his cell,
attended by his watchman, the person who was placed over Williams saw
him grow anxious and uneasy; towards midnight his agitation increased,
and the vigilance of his keeper became more marked. Williams observed
it, and said, 'Don't be frightened, sir, I am not going to do anything
wrong, but I wish to ease my mind. Let me see the Governor.' Mr.
Wontner was then called from his bed, and the Rev. Mr. Cotton, the
Ordinary, was also in attendance in a few minutes.
When these gentlemen came into the cell, Williams looking at them
steadfastly for a moment or two, burst into tears and said, 'Gentlemen,
I wish to unburden my mind; I know I am guilty, and I ought to suffer
the utmost punishment of the law; I am a murderer, I confess it, but
the witnesses were all mistaken as to its being the Italian boy.' He
was then urged to relieve his mind as calmly and as coolly as possibly;
and, after a strong effort, during which the mental agony which he
endured was dreadful, he made a statement, of which the following is
the substance:--
On Thursday the 3d of November, he was in the neighbourhood of
Smithfield, when he saw a boy, whom he had often observed before,
assisting in driving cattle to the market. This boy was about fourteen
or fifteen years of age, and exactly corresponded with the description
given of the Italian boy. He enticed him from the cattle, and took
him to the Fortune of War public-house, and sent for Bishop, who was
waiting at another public-house in the neighbourhood for the purpose of
receiving communications from him (Williams) as to anything he might
do. Bishop came, and they took the boy home to Nova Scotia Gardens,
giving him some soup and potatoes by the way. When they got him there,
they set him to play with Bishop's children until near dusk, when they
gave him some rum, and he became stupified. They (Bishop and Williams)
then took him into the garden, and on the way threw him down, and,
pushing his head into the water-barrel, sunk into the ground (as
already described) held him until he was suffocated. They then conveyed
the body back to the house, 'kept it snug' till the next day, when May
was applied to, to assist in disposing of it. May had nothing to do
with the murder of that boy.
Here the statement concluded. Williams seemed greatly relieved after
making his confession, and went to bed and slept soundly.
The Rev. Mr. Williams, according to his promise, also visited Bishop
in his cell. The culprit appeared to be aware of his approaching
dissolution, and though firm as when he appeared at the bar before
the Court at the Old Bailey, yet he appeared to be anxious to make a
communication in favour of May. Bishop observed, that as he had no
hopes of mercy here, he did not wish an innocent man to suffer for his
crimes, and he declared that May was not concerned in the murder of
which he had been convicted. He said he was ready to make a confession
of the murders in which he had participated. After some hesitation, he
admitted that he had been concerned in the commission of three murders,
viz.--that of the Italian boy, the murder of Frances Pigburn, and of
a drover, a boy who had come to London with cattle from Lincolnshire,
which boy the witnesses on his trial had sworn was the Italian boy, to
the best of their belief, though he had disposed of that body before.
[Illustration: Bishop's Cottage]
Bishop entered into a minute description, most horrible in its details,
of the mode by which he had perpetrated the inhuman murders, and then
made the following confession:--
_Newgate, December 4._
'I, John Bishop, do hereby declare and confess, that the boy
supposed to be the Italian boy was a Lincolnshire boy. I and
Williams took him to my house about half-past ten o'clock on the
Thursday night, the 3d of November, from the Bell in Smithfield.
He walked home with us. Williams promised to give him some
work. Williams went with him from the Bell to the Old Bailey
watering-house, whilst I went to the Fortune of War. Williams
came from the Old Bailey watering-house to the Fortune of War for
me, leaving the boy standing at the corner of the court by the
watering-house in the Old Bailey. I went directly with Williams
to the boy, and we walked then all three to Nova Scotia Gardens,
taking a pint of stout at a public-house near Holywell-lane,
Shoreditch, on our way, of which we gave the boy a part; we only
stayed just to drink it, and walked on to my house, where we
arrived at about eleven o'clock. My wife and children, and Mrs.
Williams, were not gone to bed, so we put him in the privy, and
told him to wait there for us. Williams went in and told them to
go to bed, and I stayed in the garden. Williams came out directly,
and we both walked out of the garden a little way, to give time
for the family getting to bed; we returned in about ten minutes
or a quarter of an hour, and listened outside at the window to
ascertain whether the family were gone to bed. All was quiet, and
we then went to the boy in the privy, and took him into the house;
we lighted a candle, and gave the boy some bread and cheese, and
after he had eaten, we gave him a cup full of rum, with about half
a small phial of laudanum in it. (I had bought the rum the same
evening at the Three Tuns, in Smithfield, and the laudanum also in
small quantities at different shops.) There was no water or other
liquid put in the cup with the rum and laudanum. The boy drank
the contents of the cup directly in two draughts, and afterwards
a little beer. In about ten minutes he fell asleep on the chair
on which he sat, and I removed him from the chair to the floor,
and laid him on his side. We then went out and left him there. We
had a quartern of gin and a pint of beer at the Feathers, near
Shoreditch church, and then went home again, having been away
from the boy about twenty minutes. We found him asleep as we had
left him. We took him directly, asleep and insensible, into the
garden, and tied a cord to his feet to enable us to pull him up
by, and I then took him in my arms, and let him slide from them
headlong into the well in the garden, whilst Williams held the
cord to prevent the body going altogether too low in the well.
He was nearly wholly in the water of the well--his feet just
above the surface. Williams fastened the other end of the cord
round the paling to prevent the body getting beyond our reach.
The boy struggled a little with his arms and legs in the water,
and the water bubbled for a minute. We waited till these symptoms
were past, and then went in doors, and afterwards I think we
went out, and walked down Shoreditch to occupy the time, and in
about three-quarters of an hour we returned and took him out of
the well, by pulling him by the cord attached to his feet: we
undressed him in the paved yard, rolled his clothes up, and buried
them where they were found by the witness who produced them. We
carried the boy into the wash-house, laid him on the floor, and
covered him over with a bag. We left him there, and went and
had some coffee in Old-street-road, and then (a little before
two o'clock on the morning of Friday) went back to my house. We
immediately doubled the body up, and put it into a box, which we
corded, so that nobody might open it to see what was in it, and
then went again, and had some more coffee at the same place in
Old-street-road, where we stayed a little while, and then went
home to bed--both in the same house, and to our own beds, as
usual. We slept till about ten o'clock on Friday morning, when we
got up, took breakfast together with the family, and then went
both of us to Smithfield, to the Fortune of War. We had something
to eat and drink there, and after we had been there about half
an hour, May came in. I knew May, but had not seen him for about
a fortnight before. He had some rum with me at the bar, Williams
remaining in the tap-room. May and I went to the door, I had a
smockfrock on, and May asked me where I had bought it; I told
him "in Field-lane;" he said he wanted to buy one, and asked me
to go with him; I went with him to Field-lane, where he bought
a frock at the corner shop; we then went into a clothes-shop in
West-street to buy a pair of breeches, but May could not agree
about the price; May was rather in liquor, and sent out for some
rum, which we and the woman in the shop drank together; May said
he would treat her because he had given her a good deal of trouble
for nothing. We then returned to the Fortune of War, and joined
Williams, and had something more to drink; we waited there a short
time, and then Williams and I went to the west end of the town,
leaving May at the Fortune of War. Williams and I went to Mr.
Tuson's, in Windmill-street, where I saw Mr. Tuson, and offered to
sell him a subject, meaning the boy we had left at home. He said
he had waited so long for a subject which I had before undertaken
to procure, that he had been obliged to buy one the day before. We
went from there to Mr. Carpue's, in Dean-street, and offered it to
him in the lecture-room with other gentlemen; they asked me if it
was fresh; I told them, yes; they told me to wait. I asked them
ten guineas, and, after waiting a little, a gentleman there said
they would give eight guineas, which I agreed to take, and engaged
to carry it there the next morning at ten o'clock. I and Williams
then returned to the Fortune of War; we found May in the tap-room,
this was about a quarter before four o'clock in the afternoon;
we had something to drink again, and I called May out to the
outside of the house, and asked what was the best price given for
"things"--he said he had sold two the day before for ten guineas
each, I think. I told him I had a subject; he asked what sort of
one; I said, a boy about fourteen years old, and that I had been
offered eight guineas for it: he said if it was his, he would not
take it; he could sell it where he sold his for more. I told
him that all he could get above nine guineas he might have for
himself; we agreed to go presently and get a coach. I and May then
went to the bar, had something more to drink; and then, leaving
Williams at the Fortune of War, we went and tried to hire a cab in
the Old Bailey; the cab-man was at tea at the watering-house, and
we went in and spoke to him about a fare, and had also tea there
ourselves. Whilst we were at tea, the cab-driver went away, and
we found him gone from the stand when we came out; we then went
to Bridge-street, Blackfriars, and asked a coachman if he would
take such a fare as we wanted; he refused, and we then went to
Farringdon-street, where we engaged a yellow chariot. I and May
got in, drove to the Fortune of War, and (Williams joining us by
the George, in the Old Bailey, on our way) at the Fortune of War
we drank something again, and then (about six o'clock) we all
three went in the chariot to Nova Scotia Gardens; we went into
the wash-house, where I uncorded the trunk, and showed May the
body. He asked, "How are the teeth?" I said I had not looked at
them. Williams went and fetched a brad-awl from the house, and May
took it and forced the teeth out: it is the constant practice to
take the teeth out first, because, if the body be lost, the teeth
are saved. After the teeth were taken out, we put the body in a
bag and took it to the chariot; May and I carried the body, and
Williams got first into the coach, and assisted in pulling the
body in; we all then drove off to Guy's Hospital, where we saw Mr.
Davis, and offered to sell the body to him; he refused, saying
that he had bought two the day before of May. I asked him to let
us leave it there till the next morning; he consented, and we put
it in a little room, the door of which Mr. Davis locked. Williams
was, during this, left with the chariot: I told Mr. Davis not to
let the subject go to any body unless I was there, for it belonged
to me, and May also told him not to let it go unless he was
present, or else he should be money out of pocket; I understood
this to mean the money paid by May for our teas at the Old Bailey,
(about four shillings) and the coach fare, which we had agreed
with the coachman should be ten shillings. May had no other
interest or right to the money to be obtained for the body, except
for such payment, and for what he could get above nine guineas,
as I had promised him. May paid the coachman ten shillings on
our leaving the hospital, but before we discharged the coach,
May and I ran to Mr. Appleton, at Mr. Grainger's school, leaving
Williams with the coach. We offered the subject to Mr. Appleton,
but he declined to buy it, and May and I then joined Williams,
discharged the coach, and went to a public-house close by, and had
something to drink. After this we got into a coach in the Borough,
and drove again to the Fortune of War, where we had something
more to drink; this was about eight o'clock in the evening. We
all three stayed there about one hour, and then went out, got a
coach in Smithfield, and went towards Old-street-road, stopped in
Golden-lane with the coach and drank something, and then on to
Old-street. At the corner of Old-street (the Star corner) May got
out of the coach and said he was going home, and I and Williams
drove to the corner of Union-street, Kingsland-road, where we
got out and paid the coach-fare out of money lent us by May (he
having advanced to each of us three shillings). We then walked
home, and went to bed that night as usual. We had agreed with May
on his leaving us to meet him at Guy's Hospital at nine o'clock
the next morning (Saturday). I and Williams went at eight o'clock
on Saturday morning to the Fortune of War, where we met Shields,
the porter, and engaged him to go with us over the water to carry
a subject. I asked him to go to St. Bartholomew's Hospital for
a hamper which I had seen there; he refused, and I fetched it
myself. We had a pint of beer there, and I, and Williams, and
Shields, went to Guy's Hospital, Shields carrying the hamper. We
met May there. Williams and Shields went to a public-house, whilst
I and May went to Mr. Appleton, and offered him the subject again.
He again refused to buy it, stating that he did not want it. May
and I then joined Shields and Williams, and had some drink, and
then left them again, crossed the water in a boat to the King's
College, where we inquired of Mr. Hill, the porter, if he wanted a
subject; he said he was not particularly in want, but would speak
to Mr. Partridge, the demonstrator. Mr. Partridge came, and asked
what the subject was. May said, 'a male subject.' Mr. Partridge
asked the price. May said, 'twelve guineas.' Mr. Partridge said
he could not give so much, and went away. Mr. Hill asked us to
stay a few minutes whilst he went after Mr. Partridge, to speak to
him again. Hill returned, and said Mr. Partridge would give nine
guineas. May said, 'he would be d--d if it should go under ten
guineas.' He was in liquor, and on his moving a little way off, I
took the opportunity of saying to Hill, that he should come in at
nine guineas. I told May, directly after, that I had sold it for
nine guineas, and that I would, out of it, pay him what I had of
him, and give him something besides. We then got into a cabriolet,
and went back to Williams and Shields, at the public-house, where
all four had some beef-steaks and beer, and afterwards went to
Guy's Hospital, packed the body in the hamper, and put it on
Shields' head, telling him to take it to the King's College,
where he went, Williams and Shields walking, and I and May riding
part of the way in a cab. On reaching the King's College we
carried the body into the theatre, and then into a little room,
where we took the body out. Mr. Hill looked at it, and asked what
it died of. May answered, that he did not know, and it did not
concern him. Mr. Hill asked how a cut, which was on the forehead,
came. I told him that it was done by May throwing it out of the
sack on the stones, which was the truth. Hill told us to remain
in the other room, and he would bring in the money. We went into
the other room, and waited for some time, when Mr. Partridge came
to us, and showed me a fifty pound note, and said he must go and
get it changed, for he had not sufficient money without; and he
pulled out his purse, and counted three or four sovereigns. I said
he might let us have that, and he could give us the remainder on
Monday. He said no, he would rather pay it altogether, and went
away. We waited some time, when the police-officers came, and took
us into custody.
'JOHN BISHOP.'
'Witness, ROBERT ELLIS.'