opinion.” He moreover said that he was confident of his forgiveness
and acceptance. Bad and base as he had been, he was yet able to look
to his end with confidence and hope.
Peace had always had an objection to having his portrait taken, and it
will be remembered how indignant he became at the Sheffield
Police-court when he fancied that he was being sketched.
At Newgate, though, he had been compelled to submit to the unwelcome
attentions of the prison photographer. This was before he was
identified, and the portrait represents him with his lower jaw very
much protruded.
A copy of the portrait falling into the hands of the London
Stereoscopic Company, it had been multiplied in immense quantities and
circulated all over the country.
This had, somehow or other, come to Peace’s knowledge, and he wrote a
letter to the Governor of Newgate Prison, complaining that he should
have allowed his portrait to have been so made use of.
The power which he possessed of protruding his lower jaw seemed to
have been a comparatively recent accomplishment. About ten months
previously he broke off a couple of teeth.
The jagged stumps bothered him a good deal, and it was whilst working
his jaws about to reduce the stumps to something like a level surface
that he discovered he could so protrude his under jaw as to almost
completely alter the expression of his face.
Upon making this discovery he told his relatives that it would stand
him in good stead if he ever got into trouble, as he should be able to
deceive the police as to his identity.
That he was firmly convinced of this was evident from the fact from
the time of his apprehension at Blackheath until he was identified in
Newgate he protruded his jaw in the manner shown in the photograph.
As soon as he was identified and found that the game was up, he
abandoned this mode of disguise, and his face assumed its normal
expression.
There was no use Mrs. Thompson endeavouring to see Peace, and she
might as well have retired from the hopeless task. The fact was, Peace
did not want to see her.
It might be that he had discovered by this time that she it was who
had first informed the police authorities who it was that Robinson had
apprehended at Blackheath.
During the interview with his relatives he was told that Mrs. Thompson
had caused a letter to be written to the Home Secretary, asking for an
order of admission to see him.
Peace at once replied that he did not wish to see her, and that the
Home Secretary’s permission would be useless, inasmuch as he would
have to be consulted, and that his permission would most certainly not
be given.
The Leeds Central News reporter said:――
“About two o’clock on Friday, Hannah Peace, Wm. Ward, and
Mr. and Mrs. Bolsover obtained permits from the Visiting
Committee to see the condemned man for the last time.
“The nephew, Thomas Neil, also applied for a permit, but he
was refused. On obtaining the orders or permits the party
proceeded in a cab from the Town Hall to Armley Gaol.
“They were accompanied by a clerk of Mr. Alfred Watson,
solicitor, who was to see that certain papers were signed by
Peace. Among the papers in question was a new will and
another deed of gift. The object of the visit was to induce
Peace to make a new settlement of his affairs, and to take
farewell of him. The interview was of nearly three hours’
duration.
“During it Peace gave directions for the disposal of his
affairs, and the conversation was for the most part entirely
connected with private matters.
“A wish was expressed that Peace should not see Mrs.
Thompson, but nothing further was said on that score. The
parties then said good-bye, but the leave-taking could not
be called a sorrowful one. Mrs. Bolsover was the only one
that really appeared deeply affected at saying farewell.
“The relations of Peace subsequently drove to the office of
Mr. Watson, solicitor, in order that he might draw up
certain legal documents defining their respective interests
in the property.”
A Manchester correspondent wrote:――
“Although the police at Manchester are still without any
official information on the subject of Peace’s alleged
confession of the Whalley Range murder, there is no
abatement of the public anxiety in the matter.
“If Peace has really declared himself the murderer, the fact
will be a great relief to a great portion of the public in
the neighbourhood, for there has always been a strong
feeling of doubt about the guilt of young Habron, who is now
undergoing his commuted sentence.
“This feeling was expressed soon after the conviction in two
petitions for a reprieve, one of which was signed by eight
thousand persons, as many signing it probably because of the
doubt there was in the case as on account of the convict’s
youth.
“The report that Peace gave an entertainment in a Wesleyan
School, Hulme Hall-lane, Manchester, in August, 1876, is
officially denied, but there seems to be no doubt that he
was in the city in that month and a series of burglaries
committed in the neighbourhood about that time are now
attributed to him.”
STILL ANOTHER LETTER TO THE CONVICT FROM MRS. THOMPSON.
The Central News reporter at Leeds telegraphed the following
correspondence as having taken place:――
“Leeds Railway Station, G. N.
“9.15 p.m., 20th Feb., 1879.
“To Mrs. Thompson.
“I have been to-day and seen Charles Peace, and he has
expressed a great wish to have your address, so that he can
communicate with you. Will you, therefore, please write to
him at once. I send this to you by ――――, whom I have just
met, and who has promised me to hand it to you.――Yours &c.,
“HY. T. BRION.”
Mrs. Thompson at once forwarded the following letter to Peace:――
“21st February, 1879.
“My Own Dear Jack.――I have received information from Mr.
Brion that you have not altogether forgotten me, and that
you don’t utterly despise and hate your poor Sue. Oh, Jack,
for the love of mercy, as you hope for that mercy which is
given to all those who truly repent, do, my Jack, let me
come to see you, if only once more. You know in your heart
that you ought to see me, your own Sue.
“John, I have not betrayed you. Little do you know how I
have suffered, and how I was threatened and tormented. I was
only obeying that which you have over and over again told
me, to save myself, as I could not do you good. Had I not
have opened my mouth, I should now have been in prison like
you――two of us instead of one――and that could have done you
no good. Darling Jack, do write me asking me to come and see
you. Never mind what the people in this world say.
“I can say many things. Darling, don’t judge me wrongly, as
you know your trouble has made me an altered and different
woman. Oh, do take that to heart. I am living here in
private lodgings so as to be near you. Now darling, I must
and shall be near you. Oh! for all the love you bear me, do
let me see you once more upon this earth. Do write me to my
solicitor, for if I give my address it will get through the
papers, and I am talked about enough I will tell you where I
stay when I see you. God in heaven bless you, and give you
strength, is the every thought now of your unhappy Sue.
John, write me quickly. Good bless you from my
heart.――Yours, SUE.”
“Friday.
“Darling,――Since writing you the enclosed, a letter from Mr.
Brion has been sent to me, telling me that you want to see
me. Oh, John, I am so happy to think this is true. This will
be taken to the gaol by the person who met Mr. Brion at the
station and was kind enough to give me the message. Do, pet,
write at once. The bearer will wait for your letter asking
me to come, and when I receive it shall come at once. I will
tell you where I am staying when I see you.
“Your Own SUE.”
CHAPTER CLXVII.
THE CONVICT’S CONFESSION.
The _Sheffield Daily Telegraph_ gave the following as the full text of
Peace’s confessions to the Rev. Dr. Littlewood, vicar of Darnall:――
When Mr. Littlewood entered the cell he saluted the convict according
to the custom he followed when he was chaplain at Wakefield
Prison――“Well, my old friend Peace, how are you to-day?”
Peace looked up at him with a wistful glance, and replied, “I am only
very poorly, sir,” and then, after averting his face, as if to hide
the emotion upon it, he turned round and added, “but I am exceedingly
pleased to see you.” Mr. Littlewood said, “I should have been much
more gratified, Peace, to have visited you under different
circumstances. This is a very sad errand for me to have to attend upon
you in such an awful position.”
The convict shook his head and slightly moaned. “But I assure you,”
added Mr. Littlewood “that there is at least one person in the world
who has deep sympathy with you.”
Peace seemed a little surprised at this, and after some hesitation he
asked, as Mr. Littlewood paused, “Who is that?” Mr. Littlewood looked
at him intently, and as their eyes met for a moment he added, “It is
myself.”
Peace seemed overpowered, muttered the words “I deeply thank you,” and
burst into tears. He remained sobbing for a considerable time, his
body quivering, his lips moving as if he was muttering something, and
altogether he appeared remarkably moved.
That remark, Mr. Littlewood says, made the criminal as humble as a
child.
“I wanted to see you,” said Peace after a few moments, to unburden my
mind to you. I know I am about to die, and I want to take from my
conscience some things which weigh heavy upon it, but before I begin I
want to ask you――do you believe I am anxious to speak the truth, and
nothing but the truth?” He paused for a minute, and Mr. Littlewood
also waited.
Peace then resumed: “I know, sir, I am about to meet my God. I know
that He will hear all that I now say in my cell, and that He will
require me to give an account not only of what I have done, but of
what I am now telling you. Do you believe me?”
Mr. Littlewood intimated that he would, but Peace did not seem
satisfied with this, and pressing his face as close to the grating as
he could, he said earnestly, “I do assure you, sir, I want to utter
nothing but the truth and the whole truth in everything I say.”
The convict paused again, and repeated the question in a firmer tone,
as if he was determined not to proceed until he was assured that Mr.
Littlewood had thorough confidence that he desired to speak the truth.
Mr. Littlewood looked at him carefully, observed his manner very
closely, and states that from his experience as a prison chaplain in
Wakefield, having had to do with criminals of the deepest dye for many
years, his own conviction was that the convict really was in earnest,
and as sincere as any man could be.
Peace waited during all this trying time until Mr. Littlewood at last
said, “Yes, Peace, I believe you are sincere, and desire to speak the
truth. No matter how bad you are or have been, I cannot conceive it
possible that any human being in your terrible position could
deliberately lie and confirm those lies, knowing that your Creator and
Judge is conscious of all you say, and that you will have to give an
account of all you utter.”
Peace seemed relieved at what Mr. Littlewood said, and after waiting a
little he said, “You know, sir, I have nothing to gain and nothing to
lose in my present position. I know I shall be hanged next Tuesday. I
desire to be hanged. I do not want to linger out my life in penal
servitude. I would rather end my days on Tuesday than have that
dreadful looking forward to all those years, but I do want as far as I
can to atone in some measure for the past by telling all I know to
some one in whom I have confidence,” and he added, looking up
earnestly into Mr. Littlewood’s eyes, “I have perfect confidence in
you.”
Proceeding, Peace said, “I am exceeding grieved and repentant for all
my past life, and if I could only undo anything I have done, or make
amends for it in any possible way I would”――and he spoke very firmly,
“I would suffer my body as I now stand to be cut in pieces inch by
inch.” He then turned again to Mr. Littlewood, evidently to see what
effect his words had upon him, and as the rev. gentleman made no
response he asked him again, sharply and firmly, but yet somewhat
pleadingly, “Do you really think, sir, I am speaking the truth?”
Mr. Littlewood again assured him that he believed him, and then Peace
continued, in lower and mournful tones: “I feel, sir,” and he raised
his hands wearily, “I feel, sir, that I am too bad either to live or
to die, and having this feeling I cannot think that either you or
anyone else will believe me, and that is the reason why I ask you so
much to try and be assured that you do not think I am telling lies. I
call my God to witness that all I am saying and wish to say shall be
the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”
Mr. Littlewood says that at this moment Peace talked with all the
earnestness of a judge, and repeated these words with a deliberate
solemnity which greatly impressed him. As he spoke he turned not only
to Mr. Littlewood, but motioned also towards the warders, as if he
were invoking God in the presence of them as witnesses. He was not at
all excited, but spoke most rationally and coherently.
“Well, now, sir,” said Peace, evidently reassured by Mr. Littlewood’s
belief in him, “in the first place I understand that you have still
the impression that I stole the clock from your day-schools.” He
waited for an answer.
“Well,” said Mr. Littlewood, “I have that impression.”
“I thought you had,” replied Peace, “and this has caused me much grief
and pain, for I can assure you I have so much respect for you
personally that I would rather have given you a clock, and much more
besides, than have taken it.” Then he added, “At the time your clock
was stolen I had reason for suspecting that it was taken by some
colliers whom I knew.”
Peace stopped again. Mr. Littlewood thought he was going to mention
the names of the colliers, but he did not, and as the rev. gentleman
was not disposed to follow that subject up, thinking it was too
trifling compared with the others that were to follow, it was about to
be dropped, when the convict turned to him again sharply, and
earnestly asked, “Do you now believe that I have spoken the truth in
denying that I took your clock, and will you leave me to-day, fully
believing that I am innocent of doing that?”
Mr. Littlewood looked at him again, to confirm his own conclusion, and
paused for some few moments, as if deliberating what he should reply.
The convict watched him keenly all the time, and seemed rather uneasy
at the answer about to be made, but in the end Mr. Littlewood said,
“Peace, I am convinced that you did not take the clock. I cannot
believe that you dare deny it now in your position, if you really
did.”
The convict looked immensely relieved, and burst into tears afresh,
and it was some time before he was able to proceed. He next abruptly
said――
“Now, Mr. Littlewood, about the Bannercross murder. I want first to
say solemnly before you in the sight of these men, and in the hearing
of God, that several witnesses grossly perjured themselves.
Brassington and Mrs. Padmore were two. They have grossly perjured
themselves, but I freely and fully forgive them, and hope to meet them
in Heaven. You may ask me what their perjury was. Well, they swore
that they heard me threaten Mrs. Dyson. That was a lie. I call God to
witness that I never did threaten Mrs. Dyson. I tell you, sir, that
Mrs. Dyson and I were on such intimate terms that I could not have
done so. It would not have suited my purpose to have quarrelled with
or threatened Mrs. Dyson.”
Here the convict made use of language expressive of his familiarities
with Mrs. Dyson which we cannot reproduce in print, but, if true,
confirms all that has been alleged on that delicate subject. Without
another word he then burst out:
“And now about Whalley Range.”
Mr. Littlewood was a little anxious to keep him on the Bannercross
murder for a little time, but Peace would have his own way, and he
went on.
“I was in Manchester in 1876, and I was there to ‘work’ some house. I
went to a place called Whalley Range. I had ‘spotted’ a house there
which I thought I could get into without much trouble. I was always
respectably dressed. I made a point of dressing respectably because I
knew the police never think of suspecting one who appears in good
clothes.
“In this way I have thrown the police off their guard many a time. I
walked through the streets of Manchester, and occasionally went
between policemen who were all the time exercising their brains as to
the burglar who had ‘done’ some houses there. On my way to the house
that night I passed two policemen on the road. I may tell you I did
not go to any house by accident.
“I always went some days, sometimes weeks, before, carefully examining
all the surroundings, and then, having ‘spotted’ a likely house, I
studied the neighbourhood, both as to the means of getting in and as
to getting away. There were some grounds about that house, and my
object was to get into these grounds in the dark, and wait a
convenient time for getting into the house.
“I missed the policemen, and for a moment I thought they had not
suspected me, and had not come my way. I must have been mistaken. I
walked into the grounds through the gate, and before I was able to
begin to ‘work’ I heard a rustling and a step behind me. Looking back
I saw a policeman, whose figure was the same as one of the two I
passed on the road, coming into the grounds. He had evidently seen me,
urned back and followed.
“I saw I could do no work that night, and then doubled to elude him.
For a moment I succeeded, and taking a favourable chance, I
endeavoured to make my escape. As quickly as I could I jumped on the
wall, and as I was dropping down, and had cleared the premises, I
almost fell into the arms of a second policeman, who must have been
planted in the expectation that I would escape that way.
“This policeman――I did not know his name――made a grab at me. My blood
was up, because I was nettled that I had been disturbed, having
‘spotted’ that house for a long time and determined to do it――so I
told him, ‘You stand back, or I’ll shoot you.’ He didn’t stand back,
but came on, and I stepped back a few yards and fired wide at him
purposely to frighten him that I might get away.
“And now, sir, I want to tell you, and I want you to believe me, that
I always made it a rule during the whole of my career never to take
life if I could avoid it.”
The convict said this very earnestly, and looked at Mr. Littlewood as
if he expected a further reassurance of his faith in him on that
score.
“Yes, sir,” he repeated, “whether you believe me or not, I never
wanted to take human life. I never wanted to murder anybody. I only
wanted to do what I came to do and get away, but it does seem odd,
after all, that in the end I should have to be hanged for having taken
life――the very thing I always endeavoured to avoid. I have never
willingly or knowingly hurt a living creature. I would not even hurt
an animal, much less a man.
“That is why I tell you, sir, that I fired wide on him, but the
policeman, like most Manchester policemen, was a determined man. They
are a very obstinate lot, these Manchester policemen. He was no doubt
as determined as I was myself, and you know that when I am put to it I
can do that which very few men can do.
“After I fired wide at him――and it was all the work of a few moments,
sir――I noticed that he had seized his staff, which was in his pocket,
and was rushing at me and about to strike me. I saw I had no time to
lose if I wanted to get away at all that night. I then fired the
second time, and I assure you again that then I had no intention of
killing him.
“All I wanted to do was to disable the arm which carried the staff,
and in order that I might get away. But instead of that he came on to
seize me, and we had a scuffle together. I could not take as careful
an aim as I would have done, and the bullet missed the arm, struck him
in the breast, and he fell. I know no more. I got away, which was all
I wanted.”
Peace then rested for a little, and afterwards proceeded.
“I left Manchester and went to Hull. Some time afterwards I saw it
announced in the papers that certain men had been taken into custody
for the murder of this policeman. This greatly interested me. I always
had a liking to be present at trials, as the public no doubt know by
this time, and I determined to be present at this trial.
“I left Hull for Manchester, not telling my family where I had gone,
and attended the assizes at Manchester for two days, and heard the
youngest of the brothers, as I was told they were, sentenced to death.
The sentence was afterwards commuted to penal servitude for life.
“Now, sir, some people will say that I was a hardened wretch for
allowing an innocent man to suffer for my guilt, for the crime of
which I was guilty, but what man would have given himself up under
such circumstances, knowing as I did that I should certainly be hanged
for the crime?
“But now that I am going to forfeit my own life, and feel that I have
nothing to gain by further secrecy, I think it is right in the sight
of God and man to clear this young man, who is entirely innocent of
the crime.
“That man was sentenced to death the day before I shot Mr. Dyson. I
did not intend――I really did not intend――to kill this policeman, but
only to disable him, and then to get away myself, and I call God to
witness that his life was taken by me unintentionally.
“I came to Sheffield the night after the trial, and went to
Bannercross in the evening. There is a low wall at the back of the
house where the Dysons lived, which is one of the houses in the
terrace called Bannercross-terrace.
“I wanted to see Mrs. Dyson. I stood on the low wall at the back of
the house. I knew the house very well, both front and back, and I knew
that the bedroom was to the back.
“While I was standing I noticed a light in the bedroom. The blind was
up, and I could see plainly Mrs. Dyson carrying a candle and moving
about the room.
“I watched her for some time, and I then saw that she was putting her
boy to bed. I then ‘flipped my fingers’――and the convict imitated the
action to Mr. Littlewood――and gave a sort of subdued whistle to
attract the attention of Mrs. Dyson, as I had often done before at
other places.
“I had not long to wait. Mrs. Dyson came downstairs――she had evidently
heard the signal, and knew I was there――and in response to my call she
came out and passed out to the closet. I then got down off the wall
into the yard, and went towards the closet.
“I was with her there some time. You may ask what I wanted to do with
her there. Well, I did not want to do what people think. I went simply
for the purpose of begging her to induce her husband to withdraw the
warrant which had been issued against me.
“I was tired of being hunted about, not being able to go and come as I
liked. I only wanted the warrant withdrawn. That was my only object,
and if I had got that done I should have gone away again.
“Mrs. Dyson became very noisy and defiant, used fearful language and
threats against me, and I got angry. Taking my revolver out of my
pocket, I held it up in her face, and said, ‘Now, you be careful what
you are saying to me. You know me of old, and know what I can do. You
know that I am not a man to be talked to in that way. If there is one
man who will not be trifled with by you or anybody else, it is Charles
Peace.’
“She did not take warning, but continued to use threats against, me,
and angered me. I tried to keep as cool as I could. While these loud
and angry words were going on Mr. Dyson hastily made his appearance.
As soon as I saw Mr. Dyson I immediately started down the passage
which leads to the main road. I was not sharp enough.
“Mr. Dyson seized me before I could get past him. I told him to stand
back and let me go, but he did not, and I then fired one barrel of my
revolver wide at him to frighten him, expecting that he would then
loose me and that I should get off. I assure you I purposely fired
wide.
“I was so near to him I could have shot him dead at the first shot,
but I purposely fired wide and the bullet hit the gable end of the
house. Mr. Dyson kept his hold of me, struggled with me, and at last
was about to get the better of me. He got hold of the arm to which I
had strapped my revolver, which I always did, and I then knew I had
not a moment to spare.
“I made a desperate effort, wrenched the arm from him, and fired
again.
“It was a life and death struggle, Mr. Littlewood, but even then I did
not intend to shoot Mr. Dyson. This you must remember――my blood was
up. I had been angry at what that woman had said to me.
“I had only come to ask that which I thought I should get, and I would
have gone away and not troubled them again; but, then, with Mr. Dyson
struggling with me, and having fired off one shot, I knew if I was
captured it would mean transportation for life.
“That made me determined to get off somehow. I fired again, as I told
you, but with no intention of killing him. I saw Dyson fall. I did not
know where he was hit, nor had any idea that it was such a wound as
would prove fatal.
“All that was in my head at the time was to get away, and if he had
not so obstinately prevented me I should have got away.
“I assure you, sir, that I never did intend, either there or anywhere
else, to take a man’s life; but I was determined that I should not be
caught at that time, as the result, knowing what I had done before,
would have been worse even than had I stayed under the warrant.
“After firing the first shot I knew then how serious it was; and,
whatever was sworn to at the trial, I tell you that we had a scuffle,
that it was a life and death struggle, and for a time Dyson had the
best of it.
“With my revolver I could have shot him dead at the first, but I did
not do so, and when I next fired I could not calculate my aim owing to
the excitement. If I had been able to do so I should simply have
disabled him and got away.
“After Dyson fell I rushed into the middle of the road, and stood
there for some moments. I hesitated as to what I should do. I felt
disposed at first to go back and assist Dyson up, not thinking that he
was wounded fatally; but I was labouring under great agitation, a
number of people were gathering about. I heard them moving and
rushing, and at last I decided to fly.
“I jumped over the wall on the other side of the road, and as I did so
a packet of letters fell from my pocket just as I was jumping down
over the fence.
“It is not true that I deliberately left these letters as a plot
against Mrs. Dyson.
“They fell from my pocket. It is not likely that I should leave any
letters about to show where I had gone.
“I call God to witness, sir, that I did not kill Mr. Dyson
intentionally, and I most solemnly swear that in shooting at him I did
not intend to murder him.
“Mrs. Dyson committed the grossest perjury in saying that no struggle
between Dyson and myself took place. There was a fearful struggle, and
she saw it.
“I want to be assured, Mr. Littlewood, that you really believe what I
say. I tell you that if anyone thinks he will see that I never
intended murder when I went to Bannercross.
“If I had meant to murder Mr. and Mrs. Dyson, or either of them, I
knew the place well enough. All I had got to do was to go to the door,
walk in, and shoot them both as they were sitting.
“And do you think, sir, if I had gone there to murder Dyson, that I
should have allowed myself to be seen by so many persons? No, I would
have gone about it in another way altogether.
“Of course I took Mr. Dyson’s life as it turned out, but I did not go
there with the intention of doing it.
“It was as unintentional a thing as ever was done, and it would not
have been done if it had not been that I was interrupted in trying to
get Mrs. Dyson to speak to her husband to withdraw that warrant, and
if Mr. Dyson had not been so determined to get me into trouble and to
prevent me getting away.
“Now, sir, will you tell me your candid opinion of Mrs. Dyson? I know
what they say, but I would like to know what you think of her.”
The Rev. Mr. Littlewood was not much disposed to state to the convict,
as probably he would be to anyone, his candid opinion of Mrs. Dyson,
but Peace insisted, and after a good deal of wavering and hesitation
Mr. Littlewood answered him. His answer, of course, has nothing to do
with this story.
Peace seemed slightly assured after hearing what Mr. Littlewood had
said, and a little later, after resting himself, he added:
“During my life I have never once attempted to take life wilfully. I
did not mean to take the life either of the Manchester policeman or of
Mr. Dyson. Instead of taking life my object has been to save life.
“I have fired many a hundred barrels at people to frighten them, and I
did succeed in frightening them, and in getting away after I had done
what I came to do.
“Where they have lost their lives has been when they have roused me,
struggled with me, and prevented me getting away, and even then it has
been in a scuffle and never intentionally. Of course I have used
threats that I would shoot them, but that was only meant to frighten
them also.
“My great mistake, sir, and I can see it now as my end approaches, has
been this――in all my career I have used ball cartridge. I can now see
that in using ball cartridge I did wrong. I ought to have used blank
cartridge; then I would not have taken life.
“If I had been captured after firing with blank cartridge in the face
of anyone, I should have been able to say when I was taken that it was
blank cartridge, and the worst thing that could have been done to me
would only have been penal servitude. If I had to do it again I should
not use ball cartridge.
“Now, sir, I am very anxious that this man who was committed at
Manchester should be set at liberty, for God knows that he is
innocent; and in order to prove that I took that man’s life I want to
tell you something.
“If they will take the bullet which they extracted from his body and
examine it and weigh it they will find it was such a one as I was in
the habit of using, and would fit my revolver.
“I shot him with the same revolver that I shot Mr. Dyson. In both
Dyson’s and the Manchester case one reason why fatal wounds were
inflicted was, I tell you, because of the struggle, not knowing
exactly what I did or the way the bullet would go. My revolver is a
peculiar one.”
Peace proceeded to describe technically as to its being a self-acting
needle revolver, but Mr. Littlewood did not follow him so closely as
to be able to reproduce his description. He gave Mr. Littlewood to
understand that the revolver being self-acting he had no control over
it after the first shot.
“I have drawn plans,” continued Peace, “showing the place where the
murder was done. I have furnished all the full particulars I have
remembered. All this I have done in order that I may clear this
innocent man, and unburden my own conscience of the crime before I go
to the scaffold, when it will be too late. These plans and particulars
I have handed to the governor, and he has told me that he has
forwarded it to the Home Secretary.”
“What was your object, said Mr. Littlewood, “in telling me all about
this murder?”
“Well, sir,” said Peace, “I want you to be an additional witness to my
confession that I am now making to you that I did commit it.”
“Do you want me to take any steps in the matter to bring this man’s
innocence out?”
“No,” replied Peace, “not necessarily. But the fact of my having given
this statement to you may be of some service to the young man when I
am done with. And now, sir, after my poor body is done with I want to
be entirely forgotten by everybody; and after my execution I hope my
name will never again be mentioned.”
“I also beg that you will use your influence in Darnall in preventing
the people from persecuting the dear members of my family. They could
not help anything I have done. They could not prevent it. They had not
the slightest control over me in any possible way. They have no more
to do with all my crimes than the greatest stranger in the land.
“Give my kind remembrances to the different people in Darnall whom I
knew. Say to them, sir, that I hope they will be warned by my fate.
Wish them good-bye, and tell them that Charles Peace, bad as he is,
has still the hope that all of us may meet again in heaven.
“I hope God will give me strength to go like a hero to the scaffold. I
do not say this, sir, in any sort of bravado. I do not mean a hero
such as some persons will understand when they read this. I mean such
a hero as my God might wish me to be. I feel sensible of my position.
I feel penitent for all my crimes. I feel in speaking to you that one
foot is on the scaffold, and I tell you, sir, before God and before
men, that I am deeply grieved for all I have done. I would atone for
it to the utmost of my power, and I shall endeavour to die bravely.”
A long pause took place. Peace seemed somewhat exhausted, and looked
wearied, worn, and anxious.
Mr. Littlewood then touched him upon a very delicate subject which he
had determined to broach before he left Darnall. This was on the point
of disclosing the names of the receivers who had taken his goods.
“I want you,” he said to the convict, “to do me one favour. Will you
grant it?”
“I will grant it if I can,” replied Peace.
“Well,” said Mr. Littlewood, “in the first place, I want you to be
submissive and prepared for your great change. You say that you will
do anything you can to atone to those you have wronged, and to make
reparation for your wasted life.”
“I do say so,” said Peace; “I am most anxious to do so.”
“Well,” said Mr. Littlewood, “I can’t point you out a way in which you
can atone in a great measure to society for what you have done. Your
disclosure about the Manchester murder is an act of justice, but there
is a wider act due to society upon whom you have preyed. It is due to
society still further that you reveal the names of those who have
received your stolen goods.
“I have no hesitation in saying that such a disclosure would be
greatly to your benefit in the sight of God. You could either make it
to me or to anyone you think proper, but it is only your due to
society to do it, and you have the best reason in the world for doing
it, for you may attribute your present position in a great measure to
those persons who have been in the habit of receiving your plunder.”
Mr. Littlewood proceeded, “You know you would not have stolen sealskin
jackets, silver plate, gold watches, diamond rings, and all those
other things if you had not been able to dispose of them. They would
have been really of no value to you unless you could have turned them
into money. You committed a great injustice to society, and now I ask
you to do an act of justice to society, and I ask you to do it as well
for your own sake.”
“Well, but you see, sir,” replied Peace, with great emphasis, “I have
always been a man, and I mean to be a man to the end. You know, sir,
the public generally look on this kind of thing in the same light as
you do. It is quite a mistake. I suppose you mean to say, sir, that if
there were no receivers there would be no stealers?”
“Yes,” said Mr. Littlewood; “that is what I say and what I think.”
“Well, then,” replied Peace, “I assure you, sir, that the impression
is wrong. Supposing I have taken rings, containing diamonds or other
brilliants, directly I have got them in my possession I have taken the
gems from the gold, and then no one can swear to them in any court of
justice.
“I always did that quickly. I sometimes did it on the night I got
possession of the plunder, and before I went to bed. Then I had a
crucible in which I melted down the gold and silver into small ingots,
and disposed of them by simple weight.”
[Sidenote: No. 96.]
[Illustration: MEMORIALS OF THE WHALLEY RANGE MURDER, DRAWN BY PEACE
IN PRISON.]
“Well, but, Peace,” said Mr. Littlewood, “it seems to me your reply is
not a sufficient reason for refusing to give up the names of the
receivers of stolen property. If you would do so it would raise you
considerably in the estimation of all respectable citizens, and confer
an incalculable boon upon this country.”
Peace made no response, and Mr. Littlewood continued: “You know, what
you say about diamonds and gold and silver may be all true. I don’t
dispute with you on that point, but you could not melt down sealskin
jackets and things of that kind.”
Peace still refused to make any response, and the subject eventually
had to be dropped, as he seemed determined on the point.
[The reason Peace did not give the names may be stated here. His
property was believed to be in the hands of receivers, and the law of
felon’s property is now altered. At one time when a felon was hanged
all his property was forfeited to the Crown. The law has since taken a
more merciful view of the convict’s family, and permits the felon to
will his property as he pleases. Of course there will no doubt be
certain restrictions in the event of the property being identified as
the proceeds of burglaries, but a person of Peace’s habits would take
care that his most valuable property was promptly realised and placed
where it could be obtained. It is therefore more than probable that
the reason we have stated is the correct explanation――that in the
event of his disclosing the names of the receivers they would have
cleared out and carried away all the booty, so that the family whom
Peace seems disposed to benefit at the last would have received
nothing.]
Passing from this subject Peace said to Mr. Littlewood, “Now, sir, may
I ask you a favour?”
“Yes,” said Mr. Littlewood, “you may.”
“I want you, sir, to preach a special sermon over my case, but I do
not want it to be preached till after my execution. I want you to hold
me up to the people of Darnall and to the world――to hold me and my
career up as a beacon, that all who see may avoid my example. I want
all who have known me to have me stated exactly as I am, that in the
end my death may not be altogether without service to society.
“You know, sir, that the public of Darnall have nothing to say against
me. They will certify to this fact――that I was respected by them. And
they had no reason to think otherwise. I never did any of them any
harm all the time I was there.”
Mr. Littlewood told him that he could not quite see his way to preach
a special sermon about his case, particularly as he had already
expressed the wish that after he was executed his name should never be
mentioned, but Peace held to this point. Eventually, however, Mr.
Littlewood was enabled to pass on to some other subject.
“Now, sir,” continued Peace, “I think I have told you all I have to
say, and I want before you go that you should do me another thing. I
should like you to hear me pray.”
Mr. Littlewood assented, and Peace, turning to the warders, desired
them to help him out of his chair that he might kneel down by his
bedside. He also commanded them to kneel down. Mr. Littlewood also
knelt close to the grating.
The convict then commenced a long and earnest prayer of nearly twenty
minutes’ duration. He prayed with great fervency and fluency. First of
all he prayed for himself, and asked God for Christ’s sake to blot out
all his trangressions, and implored that his sins might be washed away
in the blood of Jesus, and invoked the Holy Spirit to cleanse and
purify his heart.
He referred to each member of his family, and prayed for them with
equal earnestness.
From thence he went on to pray for those whom he had wronged, and
interjected there a special prayer for Mr. Littlewood and his family,
whom he hoped God would greatly bless and prosper.
He then prayed for society generally, all classes of the community,
and one special part of his prayer powerfully impressed his hearers.
In a lower tone of voice and with subdued earnestness he prayed most
devoutly for those two poor souls he had launched into eternity
without any warning or any time to be prepared for their great change.
He prayed that he might meet them before God, and that God would
forgive him for such a wicked act, that they might meet in His
presence, and he obtain full forgiveness for his crimes, and that thus
meeting and recognising each other they might forgive and forget all
that had happened on earth, and enjoy the fulness of God’s presence
for evermore.
Before Mr. Littlewood left Peace said, “I could like to ask you one
thing, sir. Do you think it would be necessary for my own welfare that
I should see Mrs. Dyson personally, and ask her forgiveness for
shooting her husband?”
Mr. Littlewood had understood that Mrs. Dyson had gone away, although
she really did not leave till the next day, and he told the convict
that Mrs. Dyson had left, adding――
“What you want, Peace, above all things, is the forgiveness not of any
human being, but the forgiveness of your Maker; and to that, with my
last words to you, I want to direct your attention.”
The convict looked perfectly satisfied, and asked Mr. Littlewood to
engage in prayer, which he did Mr. Littlewood’s prayer was frequently
interrupted by fervent responses on the part of Peace.
“Oh, God,” he cried, “answer this prayer! Have mercy upon me.” And he
cried and sobbed incessantly.
Though his face was buried in the bed-clothes, the sound of his
sobbing was painful to hear, while his whole body quivered with
emotion.
The scene was most affecting, and can never be forgotten by Mr.
Littlewood or the warders who were present.
On rising from his knees Mr. Littlewood asked for a Bible and Prayer
Book, which were handed to him by the warders.
Mr. Littlewood reminded Peace that the day of his execution would be
Shrove Tuesday, and the day following that Ash Wednesday, the first
day in Lent. He pointed out the peculiar appropriateness of various
passages in the Prayer Book, particularly the well-known words of the
Communion Service commencing “Let us therefore return unto Him who is
the merciful receiver of all true penitent sinners, assuring ourselves
that He is ready to receive us, and most willing to pardon us, if we
come unto Him with faithful repentance, if we submit ourselves unto
Him,” &c.
He also directed his attention to the introductory sentences of
morning and evening prayer, the Confession and the Absolution, as well
as the seven Penitential Psalms, the beautiful words of which might
almost have been written to meet the case of a great sinner like the
condemned criminal crouching behind his prison bars.
The convict seemed pleased at Mr. Littlewood’s attention, and glad to
have anything to occupy his mind. He asked the reverend gentleman to
turn the leaves down at these passages that he might ponder over them
in his cell.
As Mr. Littlewood was preparing to leave, Peace, with tears in his
eyes, said, “I suppose, sir, we shall never meet again in this world.
I pray God to bless you, and all your family, and I pray we may meet
again in heaven.”
Then taking the left hand of the warder, who, at the same time, took
Mr. Littlewood’s right hand, the two parted, the visitor leaving the
cell deeply affected by the interview, while the miserable being he
had left was lifted wearily back into his bed, where he turned his
face to the wall and wept.
CHAPTER CLXVIII.
AFFECTING FAREWELL LETTERS &C., FROM PEACE TO HIS WIFE AND FAMILY.
Peace, for a criminal, was a voluminous letter-writer, and after he
had been sentenced to death no restriction whatever was placed upon
his writing proclivities, and he indulged them to the full. When weary
of writing himself, he enlisted the assistance of one of his warders,
who penned at his dictation.
More than a week previous to his execution, Peace conceived the notion
of writing a farewell letter to his wife, to each of his children and
relatives, and to some of his friends, and of handing them to the
chaplain when he was on the scaffold that he might post them for him.
He employed his time in writing or dictating these letters, and in a
few days he had sixteen completed. He then handed them to the
chaplain, who posted them as requested.
The following letters were addressed by Peace to his relatives:――
“From C. Peace. H. M. Prison, Leeds, Feb. 25, 1879.
“My Dear Dear Wife I have been A bace bad man to thee for
many years O Dear if I had taken thy advice may years ago
this would not have befallen me I need not ask for thy
forgiveness for I know that thow hast already forgiven me
for all I have done to them and my Dear I do not only
forgive thee but I forgive all Persons for I have not any
ill feeling against any Living Person. O my Dear wife I do
pray to Almighty God for thee and I do hope that he will
prosper thee in all thy doings and bring them to the kingdom
of Heaven at the last where I hope that thou wilt meet me at
the last. So O My Dear Lass do not forget that our next
meeting Place I hope will be in heaven. So do not forget to
Prepare thy self to come.
“My Dear wife I do send you the coppy of some verses that I
made when our Dear little John Died and I was at Woking
Prison (Nov. 26, 1871, John died)
“They told me gently he was dead
My Dar and lovely child
They led me to the lonely grave
Whear lay my Darling boy
When they laid thee in this silent grave
I was A convict bound
But now I am free to meet and pray
On this thy sacred ground
Great God in Pity look on me
And take my life away
And turn my body cold as clay
And lay me with My boy
But hark me thinks I hear a voice
It is my lovely child
Hark me thinks I hear him say
I am not fit to die
Thou chides me well My once loved one
And tells me what I am
I am not to live or die
I am such a wretched man
So lay and Sleep My once Loved one
And I will live and Pray
So fare thee well My Darling boy
I’ll meet thee in the sky
“O My Dear Wife how can I say good bye to thee for ever but
I must say it so.
“Good bye Good bye and may my God bless and bring thee to
heaven at the last. Good bye for I am gone there.”
Later on Peace wrote a second letter to his wife, as follows:――
“From Charles Peace
“H. M. Prison Leeds Tuesday Febe 25, 1879
to My Dear Wife
“I think that this is a true view of how I stand in this
world in the first Place my sentence was Life and with me
having ben three in Penerservitue I could not having got my
freedom aney more so that I should have to die a misserbel
death in Prison at the end. I mite have lived 20 year or
more and have died in Prison at the last So my Dear wife I
do think that me and you and my children hought to think
that it will be for the best of my blessed Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ will hear my Prayers and for give me my sins
and receive my Poor Soul into the Kingdom of Heaven. So
think of this and tray to meet me thear oll you my Dear
frinds I am husband and farther.
“CHARLES PEACE.
“God bless you all.”
On Tuesday morning after the convict had breakfasted he had a few
minutes to spare before being introduced to Marwood, and he employed
them in writing the following letters――the last he wrote:――
“From Leeds.
“H. M. Prison thuesday feb. 25, 1879.
“O my Dear wife and famerly I tel you this Grat Joy that I
could not tel you yesterday for I could not I have not no
fear now for it is all ded up as to ware I am going to I am
going to Heaven or to the place ware the good go to that die
in the Lord to wate in the Place appointed by God for the
good to waite until the resurrection of the dead go do not
forget our meeting Place is in Heaven so do come at the last
and you will find me thear this letter is wrote 25 minits be
fore I do die so I must know say good bye to all so good bye
and God bless you all for I am gon to heaven.
“CHARLES PEACE.
To his wife he also sent a very beautifully illuminated card. In the
centre of a floral wreath was the following:――“The Lord bless thee,
and help thee: The Lord make His face to shine for ever upon thee, and
be gracious unto thee: The Lord lift up His countenance upon thee, and
give thee peace.”
On the back of the card the condemned man wrote:――
“My Dear Wife this was sent to me bye a Lady from Hull and
as she wishes to me I do wish to thee My Dear wife so good
bye for I am gone to Heaven.
“CHARLES PEACE.”
He also sent her a quarto copy of “The Old, Old Story.” It was in two
parts――(1) The Story Wanted; (2) The Story Told; with the author’s
music. On the last page he had written:――
“My Dear Wife, This was sent from London from a Lady at a
prayer meeting, where prayers were offered up for me at
Eaton-square, London, for to bring before thy poor husband’s
face his Saviour, finding him a poor lost sinner, and to
bring him to his fold, where I also hope thou wilt be
brought.
“CHARLES PEACE.”
LETTER, &C., TO HIS DAUGHTER.
The following is a copy of the convict’s letter to his daughter.
“From Charles Peace H M Prison Leeds
“tuesday feb 25 1879
“O My Dear Jane Ann, My Dear child I send thee this letter
from the scaffold, so O my Dear child do act up to it all
through thy Life so that thou may bring thy Soul to the
Kingdom of Heaven at the last ware I hope that thou will
meet Me never to Part from Me no more, So My Dear child do
above all things in this world Pray earnestly and
continually to that only Great and Powerful God who will
bless and Protect thee through Life and bring thee to Heaven
at the last so my Dear Dear child Let me beg of thee not to
fret for me no more then thou can help for it will do no one
any good to fret so.
“My Dear child the Darling of my heart I am now compeled to
say to thee for ever and ever Farewell for in a few moments
time I shall be dead.
“So may the Lord Bless thee and thy baby and prosper you
both and bring you to the Kingdom of Heaven at the last good
bye good bye and God bless you――Your Farther,
“CHARLES PEACE.
“Good bye good bye I am gone to Heaven.”
To Mrs. Bolsover he also sent a photograph, representing the
crucifixion, and underneath, in the same handwriting as on the other
photograph, is the following; “This man has done nothing amiss. He was
wounded for our trangressions.” On the back of the card, Peace
wrote:――
“For Jane Ann.――My dear child, this was sent from London
from a Lady at the prayer meeting in Eaton-square for to
bring before thy poor father’s face his dying Saviour that
died to save him from his sins. And My Dear Child I hope it
will bring thee from thine.――To My Dear Child.
“Good bye, for I am gone.”
LETTER, &C., TO WILLIE WARD.
To his stepson, Willie Ward, Peace sent the following letter. Those
sent to his wife and daughter were in his own handwriting; the first
part of the following letter was written at his dictation:――
“From Charles Peace.
“H.M. Prison, Leeds, Tuesday, Feb. 25, 1879.
“My dear Son,
“I now write to you my last dying wishes and request, that
you will take a warning by poor me, and live happy and
comfortable with your dear mother. I have handed this to my
chaplain when upon the scaffold, and a moment before I die.
Oh, let me beg of you in my last moments to give yourself to
God, to try and walk in the narrow path that leadeth to
eternal life. And may the Great God in His mercy pardon all
your sins. And may we all meet in the end at the Right Hand
in Glory. I have sincerely prayed to the Great and all
powerful God to forgive me all my sins as I freely forgive
all who may have sinned against me that those few lines may
have their desired effect upon you and that we may all meet
in Heaven is the Dying Prayer of your dying father.
“My Dear boy do do all that is wright in the sight of God
and man and do not forgate that we have fixed upon our
meeting place to be Heaven so I must say good bye good bye
and may God bless thee My boy.
“Good bye good bye I am gone.”
To his son he also sent a photograph of a painting representing our
Saviour as the Good Shepherd. He has a crown of thorns on his head; no
shoes on his feet; in His right hand He has the shepherd’s crook, and
on His left shoulder He carries a lamb, with which He is returning
from the wilderness to the fold. Underneath, written in capitals, is
the following:――“The Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which
was lost.” On the back of the card Peace wrote:――
“My Dear Child this was sent from London from a Lady at a Prayer
meeting where Prayers was offered up for me at Eaton-square, London,
for to bring before thy poor father’s face his Saviour finding him a
lost sinner and to bring him to his fold and I also hope my son that
he will bring thee to his fold.
“For William Peace good bye my Dear son for I am gone there.”
LETTERS TO HIS SON-IN-LAW.
The latter part of the following letter only is in the handwriting of
the convict:――
“From Charles Peace.
“H.M. Prison, Leeds, Tuesday, 25th Feb., 1875.
“My dear son Bolsover.――This is my last letter here upon
earth. Let me beg of you to take my dreadful end as a
warning. May it be the cause of your leading a godly,
righteous, and sober life, so that, in the end you may
obtain life everlasting. It is the last advice I can ever
give to you, for when you receive this I shall be dead. This
is handed to the chaplain upon the scaffold for you. May it
have its desired effect upon you. I wish you prosperity. May
you escape all the accidents to which your profession
endangers you. May you live a long and happy life, and at
the last, when you are put in the balance, God grant that
you may not be found wanting, but that we may all meet at
His right hand in glory, there to part no more, is the dying
prayer of your poor father, Charles Peace.
“So I must say Good bye good bye and may God bless thee for
I am gone to Heaven. Good bye.
“CHARLES PEACE.”
LETTER FROM MRS. THOMPSON.
“Tuesday, Feb. 10, 1879.
“Dear Charley,――Why is it, after all my anxiety and trouble
to come to see you after your especial desire to see me, and
your letter yesterday, asking me to come at once, and now
you don’t see me? What have I done to not merit to see you?
You have turned to me in all your troubles since I have
known you. Is it because your relations have been? They had
the first chance. Or were your feelings too much overcome. I
pity you much. I sincerely thank you for your second letter
you sent by the governor to read to me. I do forgive you all
as you ask me, as I hope to be forgiven. I shall for ever
cherish the small scrap of paper torn from your long letter
which the governor so kindly gave me in Armley Gaol. As you
blame me for all that is being done, in regard to letters
and in the papers, let me tell you I am not to blame. How
could I have information that you had written to Hannah and
Bolsover? You know, dearest, they are no friends of mine,
and it is best known to themselves if they were unkindly
treated when they came to my house. Had I have been in their
position, I would not have come; but that is past. You
cannot leave this world without seeing me again. You know I
have been faithful and true to you if I have other faults.
Now one word――clear your conscience of everything before it
is too late.”
Across this letter was written the following lines, said to have been
Peace’s own composition:――
“And while his heart
O can the heart grow cold?
False ones, the tales that in this world are told
Swell in his voice.
He knows not where to end,
Like one discouraging an absent friend.”
On an enclosure addressed to Governor Keene was written “Please give
the enclosed to my poor John.”
The convict, absurd as it seems, was of a poetical turn, and he was
very fond of reading and reciting poetry. Indeed, he had a weakness
for versification, and had in his time written many a jingling rhyme.
One of his favourite compositions that he was wont to declaim began
with the lines:――
“Lion-hearted I’ve lived,
And when my time comes
Lion-hearted I’ll die.”
When news of Peace’s arrest, reached the inmates of the house at 5,
Evelina-road, Peckham, the Dyson letters, so called, were given by
Mrs. Thompson to Willie Ward to burn. Both Hannah Peace and the woman
Thompson were in a terrible flutter, as the house contained things
that would get them into trouble should the police search the
premises. The letters entrusted to Willie Ward were with two or three
exceptions all burned, the women foolishly thinking their existence
might tend to the incrimination of Peace. This fact was well known to
the detectives, it is said. The letters in question destroyed, in
whosoever’s handwriting they were, are stated to have contained
requests for money, and their contents were not such as could have
been written by a pure-minded person.
The Central News special correspondent at Leeds wrote that Mrs.
Thompson had again made her appearance in Leeds. She was seen at the
Post-office. She asserted her faith that she would see Peace before he
died. She again wrote to him, as follows:――
“15th Feb., 1879.
“To the Governor of Armley Gaol.
“Sir,-Will you kindly oblige me by giving the enclosed to
Charles Peace?――Yours, &c., S. THOMPSON.”
The following was the enclosure:――
“To Charles Peace, Armley Gaol, Leeds.
“Saturday, Feb 15, 1879.
“My own dear Jack,――What do you mean by turning against
me――I who have cared for you? What must I believe? Hannah is
admitted to see you as your wife, and you have most solemnly
swore to me that she was not. When you and I went to Hull
you told her you would and should marry me, as I alone
should be your wife, as you could not part with me. Oh, why
am I to suffer like this? It is killing me. I am prevented
from seeing you, and am pointed at in the streets, ‘Here
comes Mrs. Thompson.’ Have I deserved this? You would not
have gone out had you have taken my advice upon the 9th of
October [the date of his arrest.] It is most terrible that I
am not allowed to see you. All your people are doing all
they can to prevent me doing so. The magistrates’ committee
say I cannot unless you ask for me. John, darling, I must
see you once again upon this earth. Darling, remember the
last time I saw you. You turned back a second time to kiss
me. Oh, I do upon my knees implore of you to see me. I am
watched and hunted to death. Is this not fearful? I do not
imagine this, this time eight months ago, that I should have
gained such notoriety in the world’s history. John, do write
me under cover to my solicitor. This is killing me. I have
not a friend to whom I can turn upon earth. I cannot write
more, for my heart is well-nigh broken. What must I, what
shall I do? God bless you.
“Yours SUE.
“Oh, you have spoken harshly to me many times, but, then,
when your temper has cooled down, you have come to me. John,
Charley, let me see you. I freely forgive you what you ask
me in your last letter. I cannot write more. Do ask to see
me, John.
“Your own, SUE.”
A letter was sent by Mrs. Thompson’s solicitor, to the Home Secretary,
on 13th Feb., which after stating the result of Mrs. Thompson’s
application to the Leeds Justices, states certain particulars as a
reason why Mrs. Thompson should be allowed an interview with the
convict. It is understood that the request had been refused by Mr.
Cross.
PEACE AND HIS INVENTION.
The “Central News” special reporter at Leeds said the convict
pointedly denied, that Mr. Brion ever knew or learned anything in
respect of the invention for raising sunken vessels, except what he
(Peace) imparted to him. He charged Mr. Brion with ingratitude in the
matter, and said that when that individual first received a hint of
the plan, he did not rest content until he had got possession of all
the details of the invention. Peace’s method for raising sunken ships
was to close their hatchways, ports, and any large leaks, and to force
air into the hold, a simple trap or valve allowing the water to escape
as the air was forced in. He purchased a small model steamer, and
having taken out the engines and boilers, altered her to suit his
purpose, and attached one of his valves and India-rubber tubing
connnected wiih an air pump to the deck. A wooden tank about 7 feet
long, 3 or 4 feet wide, and the same in depth was made, and this was
filled with water in order to enable Peace to carry on his
experiments. The model boat was also on several occasions sunk to the
bottom of the Thames, and raised again by Peace’s apparatus, a select
party of his own and Mr. Brion’s friends being present to witness
these experiments.
VISIT OF MR. BRION TO THE CONVICT.
The “Central News” special reporter at Leeds telegraphed on Thursday:
Mr. Brion, of 22, Philip-road, Peckham Rye, arrived in Leeds to-day
about two o’clock. He went to the Town Hall, where he was at once
provided with a pass admitting him to see Peace. He immediately took a
cab and drove to the gaol, which he reached about half past two
o’clock. On entering, he saw Mr. Keene, the governor, who took him to
Peace’s cell. The greeting between the two men was not over-cordial.
Mr. Brion told him the object of his visit was to get a renewal of the
statement that he (Brion knew nothing about Peace, the convict’s past
career, or that he was other than what he represented himself to be,
namely, a retired gentleman.) Peace said that such was the case, and
he called those present to witness that Mr. Brion knew nothing about
his doings; and the sole cause of the frequent visits to his house was
in connection with the invention of raising sunken ships. Peace then
asked a number of questions in respect to the Evelina-road house, and
what disposition had been made of the effects therein. Mr. Brion told
him that so far as he knew everything had been carried off and
disposed of, Mrs. Thompson and Hannah having divided the proceeds. He
also expressed himself as willing to turn over to anyone whom Peace
should name all the plans and papers belonging to him in his
possession. This appeared to please Peace, and he became more
communicative. He said he was prepared to meet his fate, and that he
should send letters from the scaffold to many of his relatives and
friends. He professed the greatest esteem for Mr. Brion, and bade him
good bye with a considerable show of feeling, saying that the latter
should hear from him again. Mr. Brion returned to London by the ten
o’clock train.
LETTER TO MR. GOODLAD.
Peace was a staunch friend as well as an implacable enemy. Two of his
oldest friends were Mr. George Goodlad and Mr. Cragg, and he was much
disappointed when he was informed that they could not be permitted to
see him at Armley. He promised to write to them both, and he kept his
word, Amongst the batch of letters handed to the chaplain on Tuesday
morning was the following:――
“From Charles Peace H.M. prison. Leeds, Tuesday,
25th February, 1879.
“My dear friend George Goodlad, I send you this letter from
the scaffold. It is handed to my chaplain when upon the
scaffold to send to you. So I hope you will take A. warning
from my most fearful fate. You and me have known each other
A great number of years, you choose An honest industrious
way through life, but I choose the one of dishonesty,
villainy, and sin. So my dear friend do take a warning by me
for the remainder of your life. I die with the hope that God
as heard my prayers and forgiven my many sins, and that in a
few moments I may be at his right hand in glory, where I
hope we shall all meet at the last Great day. That God may
bless and prosper you and your dear Wife and Son and the
workmen in your shop and all enquiring friends is the dying
prayer of
“Yours CHARLES PEACE.
“Good-bye and bless you all Good bye.
“Mr. George Goodlad, pianist at Milners Concert rooms, and
picture gallery off West-bar, Sheffield.”
PEACE PREPARES HIS OWN FUNERAL CARD.
At the interview that Peace had with his wife he told her he would
prepare a funeral card commemorative of his own death. He said he
would endeavour to have it ready to give her when she paid the final
visit to his cell. He reminded her of the monument at home, made by
himself, and said if she liked she might put it on that.
When he came to do the card he found that his eyesight had failed him;
that his hand had somewhat forgot its cunning; and he was unable to
complete it. It is the half-finished design of a tombstone, with a
floral wreath across the top. In the centre is the following:――
IN
MEMORY
OF
CHARLES PEACE,
WHO WAS EXECUTED IN
ARMLEY PRISON,
TUESDAY, FEB. 25,
1879. AGE 47.
FOR THAT I DON BUT NEVER
INTENDED――
The lettering is in capitals, and occupies about half the card. On the
other half the convict intended to have written some lines, but he was
unable to do so. He gave it to his wife on Monday, with expressions of
regret that he had not been able to complete it.
LETTER TO PEACE FROM AN OLD CONVICT.
The following letter was sent to Peace, and by him handed over to his
family on Monday. The original had the signature of the writer in
full:――
“Saturday morning, ½ past 1 o’clock.
“My Dear Friend,――You will I trust Pardon Me for Breaking in
and Intruding upon you Now at this Most Awfull and Most
Solemn time――Most awfull Because you and Me are about to
Leave――I may if it be the Will of God Leave this Earthly
Tabernacle off before you (this Perishing world for
Ever――Luke 21.33), But we Must Both Stand before the
Judgement Seat of Christ Dear Friend Your position is
fearful Here――But what will it be then. How Shall we appear
Before the Judgement Seat of Christ――For I too Dear Friend
have a fellow Creatures Life then to answere for and it may
be More than One――my Life and yours here as indeed been a
Life of Sin and crime O that it had been Otherwise――But We
Can Do Nothing――or Recall the Past――But Blessed be God He
Has Shewed both you and Me a Way of Escaping all Bitter
torments for the future――Yes only one Way John 14 ch 6 v 3
ch 14 to 18 verses Isaiah 1-18 57 ch 15 v 66 ch 2 verse
Matthew 11.23 Psalm 146.3 verse Matthew 10.23――Ah My Dear
Friend Many there are that Shew a Cold Shoulder to us Now
May God have Compassion and Shew them Mercy for Jesus
Christ’s Sake――Yes our friends or Most of them in the time
of trouble Desert us――But there is a friend that Sticketh
Closer than a Brother Proverbs 18.24 and He that Best of all
Friends has told me and you to call upon Him in the time of
trouble and He will Deliver us――I beg of you Dear Friend to
Listen to the Chaplin May God Reward and Bless his
Endeavours to bring you to understand your Position――these
few Remaining Days I beseach you to Spend in Prayer――and in
the Reading of Gods Most Holy Ward――I have indeed found very
Great Comfort by Reading that Sacred Volume after asking our
Heavenly Fathers forgiveness of the Past――and to open My
Eyes to the Blessed truths Contained therein――and I have
found in times Past in a Prison Cell that Peace which the
World Cannot Give――twenty five years of My Past Life have I
spent in Prison――But to be with you Now Dear Friend I would
very Gladly Spend five years more――Shall I tell you why Dear
Friend Because you and Me are by ourselves Lost――But Jesus
Christ Says I came to Seek and to Save that which was
Lost――only trust Him He will Save you――Have faith in God.
May the Almighty and Merciful God forgive all Our Sins and
Grant You and Me a Place in his Kingdom at the Right Hand of
Jesus Christ our only Mediator and Advocate is the Ernest
Prayer of Your Friend
“W. O.
“Mile End Road London.
“Farewell Dear Friend I do so much want to Me you in Heaven.
Do Come Mercys Door is open for us and Gods hand is
Stretched out Still.”
FROM A LITTLE GIRL.
The following is a copy of another letter sent to Peace, and on it he
wrote, “this was sent to me bye a little girl”:――
“Jesus Christ says He came ‘to seek and to save that which
was lost.’ ‘I came not to call the righteous but _sinners_
to repentance.’ When he was dying he prayed for those who
killed Him. ‘Father forgive them, for they know not what
they do,’ and now Jesus, Our Lord is in Heaven praying to
God for _you_. He died on the cross for _you_, because he
loves you and ‘wills not the death of a sinner but rather
that all should come unto him and have Everlasting Life.
“Oh, don’t think you are too great a sinner for Jesus to
save. He is ready and willing ‘to save to the uttermost
_all_ who come to him.’ He is longing for you _now_ to
believe in Him, and be safe _for ever_. He has promised ‘Him
that cometh unto me I will in _no wise_ cast out,’ and all
you have to do is to repent and ask God to forgive your sins
for Christ’s sake. We have no need of doing that; we have
all sinned and grieved our loving Saviour many times.
“Then think of what follows after this life. _Everlasting_
bliss and happiness with Jesus. But if you refuse to come
and be washed in the Blood of the Lamb it is awful to think
of what follows――an _everlasting_ pain in hell with devils
and damned spirits where ‘the worm dieth not and the fire is
not quenched.’
“Oh, don’t let such an awful fate be yours――_you can_
_prevent it if you will_. When Jesus is ready _now, this
minute_, to save you, why do you delay?
“What keeps you back?
“A man in the Bible wanted to be saved, but he did not know
how to say a long prayer, so he just said, ‘Lord, have mercy
upon me;’ and God heard him and answered his prayer. Oh, may
God help _you_, and may you be able to really believe that
Jesus loves you, and is waiting to save you.
“We will all pray for you that for our Saviour’s sake you
may be saved, and we shall then meet you in heaven with
Jesus.
“February 10th, 1879.”
TELEGRAM FROM IRELAND.
On the 22nd inst. the convict received the following telegram from “M.
J., Londonderry, to Charles Peace, Armley Prison, Leeds. Believe on
the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved. He is able also to
save them to the uttermost that come unto God by Him.”
When the telegram was handed to Peace he read it, and said――“This is
from Kate Dyson’s sister. Her initials are ‘M. J.,’ and I’ll be bound
she has sent it.” The message seemed to give him a good deal of
pleasure; but the impression is that he was wrong as to where it came
from.
CHAPTER CLXIX.
SKETCH OF THE CONVICT’S CAREER.
The life of the hero of this work was, as already indicated, full of
strange incidents, which have been duly chronicled during the progress
of this history. We subjoin a brief epitome of his career:――
“His father, who started in business as a shoemaker, after a wandering
life spent at fairs and wakes, was residing in Nursery-street,
Sheffield, on the 14th of May, 1832, the day when Charles Peace was
born.
“The lad was sent to school in the town, but did not make much
progress, and revealed a strong taste for constructing various
articles rather than for learning.
“On leaving school he went to work at a rolling mill, and was there
crippled in the leg by a piece of heated steel. In 1853, when a young
man, he had gained great proficiency as a performer on the violin, and
in company with a number of amateur theatricals, appeared at Worksop
as ‘The Modern Paganini.’
“At this time, notwithstanding his lameness, he excelled in physical
exercises, and was so courageous that he once seized an enraged
bull-dog, and beat it until the animal was stunned.
“His first robbery was committed at Mount View, in Sheffield, and for
that offence he was sent to gaol for a month. On his liberation he
began to associate with thieves, and soon became notorious as a
portico robber.
“In 1854 he broke into three gentlemen’s residences at Sheffield,
gaining admittance by climbing the portico, and carried off large
quantities of jewellery.
“Caught again, he was tried and sentenced to four years’ penal
servitude. Having served that term, he resumed his old life of
fiddling and thieving, and in the course of his strolling met Hannah
Ward, whom he is alleged to have married.
“Soon after his marriage he went to Manchester, and whilst committing
a burglary at Rusholme, on the 11th of August, 1859, was captured,
after a desperate resistance, and again sentenced to penal servitude,
this time to six years.
“In the summer of 1864, however, he was again free, and commenced
business in Sheffield; but it did not flourish, and he returned to
Manchester, where he got into trouble about another burglary, and was
sent into penal servitude for a further term of ten years.
“In prison he was mixed up in a mutiny, flogged, and then sent to
Gibraltar. But his sentence was commuted to six years, and on the 9th
of August, 1872, he returned once more to Sheffield, where for some
time he worked industriously as a picture-framer, and lived apparently
a most exemplary life, sending his children to the Sunday school.
“About this time his hand was injured by a pistol shot, one of his
fingers being blown off; but the injury did not materially interfere
with his business, which he continued on his removal to Darnall.
“Whilst living in Britannia-road there, he met the Dyson’s; forced
himself upon their society; pryed into their affairs, and made himself
so objectionable that Mr. Dyson wrote on one of his visiting cards,
‘Charles Peace is requested not to interfere with my family,’ and
threw it into Peace’s garden.
“Peace was furious; he sought out Mr. Dyson, tried to trip him up by
the heels, and the same night, confronting Mrs. Dyson, revolver in
hand, threatened to blow out her brains and her husband’s too. A
warrant was taken out against him; he escaped to Hull, but returned to
Sheffield again on the 25th of October, 1876, when he threatened to
annoy Mrs. Dyson ‘wherever she went.’
“On that day the Dysons had removed from Darnall to Bannercross,
specially to escape his disagreeable visits; but Peace followed them
there, and meeting Mr. Dyson near his new abode took out his revolver
with the intention of shooting him at that time if Mr. Dyson had
offered to molest him.
“Peace returned to Hull, and turned his wife and family out of doors
because his daughter ventured to bring up the name of Mrs. Dyson in
conversation. He then wandered to Manchester, and back again to
Sheffield, where, on the night of the 28th of November, 1876, he
alleges that he had another interview with Mrs. Dyson.
“The next morning, the 29th, he visited his mother, and later in the
day had an interview with the Rev. E. Newman, at Ecclesall Vicarage,
to whom he told a most extraordinary story of his wrongs, and accused
the Dysons of destroying his home happiness.
“The same night, shortly after eight o’clock, Peace shot Mr. Dyson. He
concealed himself in the yard behind the house at Bannercross, and
watched Mrs. Dyson go into a closet. When she opened the door he stood
before her with a revolver in his hand, and said, ‘Speak, or I’ll
fire.’
“The woman, greatly terrified, gave a loud shriek, and, stepping back
into the closet, slammed the door, which she closed. Mr. Dyson
immediately came out of the house, and Mrs. Dyson hearing his
footsteps left the closet, and saw her husband follow Peace across the
passage. Suddenly she saw the man turn and fire at her husband.
“Mr. Dyson, a powerful man, 6 feet 6 inches in height, was undeterred
by the shot, and still pursued Peace, who, on reaching the steps at
the end of the passage, again faced round, fired his revolver, and Mr.
Dyson fell, shot in the left temple, the bullet penetrating to the
brain.
“‘Murder! you villain――you have shot my husband!’ shouted Mrs. Dyson,
who was found by the neighbours supporting her husband’s head. Peace
escaped across the fields, and Mr. Dyson died two hours afterwards.
Although not certain as to the result of his firing, Peace felt it
necessary to get out of the way as soon as possible, and, cutting
across the country, he arrived at another suburb of the town.
“In the meantime he slipped an indiarubber band over his head,
confining his long white beard closely under his chin, and, putting on
a muffler, gave himself the appearance of a man with a short beard.
“Taking a cab, he rode into the centre of the town, and, after bidding
good-bye to his mother and a brother, he walked to Attercliffe-road
station and went to Rotherham. From another station he went on to York
the same evening, and a day or two afterwards turned up at Hull, where
his wife was keeping an eating-house.
“No sooner had he entered than the detectives came up to inquire for
him. He hastily ran upstairs, and, getting out of a bedroom window,
climbed up a spout and got upon the roof.
“When the coast was clear he returned and had dinner, but was again
forced to fly to the roof by another visit from the detectives. He
escaped at dark, and then assumed that disguise which first deceived
his relatives and subsequently enabled him to elude the vigilance of
some of the cleverest detectives in the country.
“Finding the police were on his track he left Hull in a roundabout
way, and wandered about the country for nearly six weeks. Once he
travelled with a police-sergeant, and fraternised with him in the
train.
“On another occasion he ostentatiously read to a police officer the
bill offering a reward of £100 for his capture. Early in January he
turned up at Nottingham, and, taking lodgings in a low quarter of the
town, he commenced burglarious operations.
“It was here that he formed the acquaintance of Mrs. Thompson, and
after living with her for a short time in Nottingham they went to
Hull, and lodged in the house of a police sergeant. Whilst in Hull
Peace made considerable stir, and on two occasions was very nearly
caught.
“His first ‘work’ was on a Saturday night. He had broken into a villa
residence, and collected a number of articles of value, when the front
door opened, and two ladies and two gentlemen entered. He hastened to
the first landing, and found to his surprise that the people were
coming upstairs. He took energetic measures.
“Drawing his revolver, he fired over the balustrade into the ceiling,
and the people, frightened out of their wits, fell downstairs, and
Peace escaped through the garden. One of the gentlemen pursued him,
but was fired at by Peace, who got safely away.
“On another occasion Peace was stopped by a policeman as he was
leaving a house with some booty. The constable asked Peace what he was
doing there, and Peace immediately fired at him. The officer fled
precipitately, and Peace again got away. Shortly afterwards, finding a
constable drunk on his beat, Peace entered six houses in one row, and
finished a successful season by a large robbery of plate at the house
of Mr. Ansell, a member of the Town Council.
“Returning to Nottingham, he committed several daring robberies, the
last of which was a most successful silk robbery, and for the
detection of the thief in which case a reward of £50 was offered.
“The police got a clue, and going to the place where he was staying,
found Peace and Mrs. Thompson in bed.
“Peace told the officer that he was a hawker, and offered to show him
his licence if he would go down stairs. No sooner, however, had the
officer left the room than Peace escaped through the window, and
subsequently went back with Mrs. Thompson to Hull.
“Peace next moved to London, and took a miserable room in
Stangate-street, Lambeth. Here he was ostensibly carrying on the
business of a dealer in musical instruments, but it was at this period
that his most successful burglaries were committed.
“Breaking into a villa at Denmark-hill, he found a large safe in one
of the lower rooms, but not being an expert at opening safes, he went
upstairs into the master’s bedroom and took his keys out of his
trousers pockets as they lay on the bed.
“He took from the safe all the family plate, and obtained for it in
Petticoat-lane no less than £250. Soon afterwards he realised £200 by
a burglary at Southampton. The greater part of this was in money and
the remainder in Bank of England notes. Subsequently he removed to
Greenwich, and brought Hannah Peace, his reputed wife, and her son
Willie Ward, to live with him.
“Hannah Peace and Mrs. Thompson soon quarrelled, and the family
removed to Peckham, where they lived in good style at No. 5,
Evalina-road. This was a pretty little villa standing in its own
grounds. There were two entrances to the premises――a small gateway
leading to the front steps and a carriage entrance.
“The front door opened into a moderate-sized hall, and a large
drawing-room communicated by means of folding doors, with a spacious
sitting-room behind. The house was well furnished throughout, and,
indeed, at the time that Peace took it he must have been possessed of
a considerable amount of ready money.
“In the drawing-room were a number of nicknacks, and in the different
rooms there were several good pianos and violins. Peace made a number
of improvements to the outside of the house, and the ‘Thompsons’ came
to be regarded by the residents as their ‘carriage neighbours.’
“Here Peace set up a pony and trap, and in the afternoon he used to
ride out and mark the houses which he thought likely for ‘business.’
At night he would go out and enter the houses, and the pony and trap,
which was waiting for him somewhere in the neighbourhood, was driven
home at a most furious pace, the proceeds of the burglaries being
concealed in the cart.
“It is believed that here he did some good business, but in spite of
the fact that he had two women and a young man living with him very
little is known of his actual operations. He had some trouble with the
women. Mrs. Thompson drank, and Mrs. Peace was jealous, but Peace had
no fear of treachery, and he continued most successfully his
burglarious career.
“He received regular visits from the receiver of stolen goods, who
used to take back good bargains from Evalina-road. At one time Peace
endeavoured to melt down the plate he obtained to render its disposal
more easy, but this attempt he soon gave up as likely to attract the
attention of the neighbours.
“Thus he lived until the 10th October last year, when he was so
pluckily captured by Police-constable Robinson. The officer detected
him in a burglary in the house of Mr. Burness, at St. John’s Park,
Blackheath, and, calling the assistance of two other officers, a most
determined and prompt effort was made to capture the man who had
terrified South East London by his nocturnal robberies, and brought
down a storm of reprobation upon the police.
[Sidenote: No. 97.]
[Illustration: PEACE AFTER HIS INTERVIEW WITH THE REV. MR.
LITTLEWOOD.]
“Robinson saw him leaving the house and chased him across the garden.
Peace drew a revolver and fired five times, the last shot wounding the
officer severely in the elbow, but Robinson stuck to his man, and the
other officers coming he was secured.
“The news of his arrest soon reached his people in Evelina-road, and
the house was stripped of almost everything in a few days. Furniture
was sold, and the proceeds of burglaries were removed to Nottingham
and Sheffield.
“Then Mrs. Thompson, under pressure, informed the police who their
prisoner really was, and whilst the London officers were
congratulating themselves on having caught a most successful burglar,
the Sheffield police were equally satisfied that the Bannercross
murderer was in custody.
“An officer was despatched to America to find Mrs. Dyson, the widow of
the murdered man, and before he returned, Peace, Under the alias of
John Ward, had been sentenced to penal servitude for life for the
attack on Robinson. No time was lost in bringing Peace to trial for
the graver offence, and on the 17th January he was taken to Sheffield
for his preliminary examination.
“He was remanded on this occasion, and he was being taken from
Pentonville to Sheffield on the following Wednesday when he made that
daring attempt to escape or to commit suicide. He was being conveyed
to Sheffield under the charge of two warders, and whilst the train was
running at the rate of fifty miles an hour between Retford and
Sheffield, Peace suddenly jumped out of the window.
“One of the warders dashed forward and seized him by one foot as he
almost flew through the window. He thus had but insecure hold of the
convict, who appeared to be almost mad with rage that his attempt had
been foiled, and struggled wildly to escape from the officer’s grasp.
“With his left leg he savagely kicked the officer’s hands, and with
his manacled hands grasped the footboard and endeavoured to free his
right foot. The other warder, in the meantime, was unable to get to
the window, and Peace’s boot coming off, he fell on the footboard of
the carriage with his head, and bounded off that into the up line.
“The train was stopped after running about a mile, and Peace was found
lying insensible where he fell. He had received a severe wound at the
back of the head, and was so much shaken that he could not be brought
before the magistrates that day, and was remanded.
“On the following day a note was found upon him containing the
words:――‘Bury me at Darnall. God bless you all. C. Peace.’ This, he
said, he wrote in Pentonville, because finding that he could not
escape he had determined to commit suicide.
“He was sent for trial at the Leeds Assizes, and was then sentenced to
death after trial before Mr. Justice Lopes. After his removal to the
condemned cell he had paid great attention to the administrations of
the chaplain, and was described as having been really penitent and
resigned to his fate.
“He also carried on a voluminous correspondence, letters frequently
passing between him and his family and Mrs. Thompson. The latter,
after having handed him over to justice, most persistently sought an
interview with him, but was not allowed by the authorities to see him.
“One of the most extraordinary events in connection with Peace’s
career was his confesssion of the Whalley Range murder. A young man,
named Habron, was then undergoing penal servitude for the crime, which
Peace stated he himself committed.
“The murder occurred on the 1st of August, 1876. It was at the time
when Peace had the Sheffield warrant hanging over him. He had packed
up his housebreaking implements, and left Sheffield for Hull and
Manchester in July.
“Arriving in Manchester he committed several burglaries, and on the
night of the 1st of August, he went to the house of Mr. Gatrix, at
West Point, Whalley Range, to break into it.
“As he was going towards the house he was seen by Mr. Simpson, a law
student, and police-constables Cock and Beanland.
“Peace, followed by Beanland, crossed the grounds, and, jumping over a
wall into the street, alighted close against Police-constable Cock,
who was watching there.
“The officer tried to arrest him, and Peace fired to frighten him; but
Cock endeavoured to apprehend him. Peace then shot the constable in
the chest, and escaped before the arrival of Beanland, who remained in
the grounds seeking the burglar. Three brothers named Habron, who were
employed at a market gardener’s near, were suspected of the murder,
and two of them, John and William, were committed for trial.
“At the Assizes, which took place on the 27th and 28th of Nov.,
William Habron was found guilty, and sentenced to death, but John was
acquitted. A petition was got up on behalf of William Habron, and his
sentence was commuted to penal servitude for life. Not long afterwards
Peace, under a pledge of secrecy, told his relatives what he had done,
and expressed a wish that he could get the young man liberated without
implicating himself.
“A few days after he had been sentenced to death at Leeds for the
murder of Mr. Dyson, he drew plans showing the locality at West Point,
Whalley Range, indicated the spot where the murder was committed, and
also wrote a confession of the crime. His plans and confession were
forwarded to the Home Office. Peace had a final interview with his
brother Daniel and various other relatives on Saturday.
“Though physically prostrate, and suffering much from emotion, the
convict expressed himself as prepared to meet his fate, and earnestly
enjoined his friends to lead religious and virtuous lives.”
As a supplement to the above we add the following details of Peace’s
early crimes.
“Having recovered from the two years’ illness caused by his accident
at Kelham Rolling Mills, he had been in the service of Mr. Edward
Smith, and had after that become, under the tuition of one Bethley, a
player on the violin at public-houses.
“There is a tradition that soon after this, having had a quarrel with
his sister, he slept out, in an empty house, was caught, and got a
month’s imprisonment therefor.
“Whether this be so or not, the next glimpse we get of him is making a
highly promising commencement in his future profession. He was charged
at the Sheffield Sessions on Saturday, Dec. 13, 1851, along with
George Campbell, with breaking into the house of Mrs. Catherine Ward,
Mount View, [the mother of the then Mayor of Sheffield] and stealing
two pistols, a mahogany box, a bullet mould, and other articles. An
entrance had apparently been effected by climbing upon the balcony and
opening the bedroom window.
“The only property missing was a case containing Mrs. Ward’s jewels, a
case containing a brace of rifle pistols, and a silk dress. The
prisoners were afterwards found dealing with the pistols; Campbell was
discharged, while Peace, who received a good character for honesty
from his late employer, got one month’s imprisonment.
“This robbery shows how closely Peace adhered to the _modus operandi_
adopted thus early, and it fixes his then age (19).
“A CROP OF BURGLARIES IN 1854――FOUR YEARS’ PENAL SERVITUDE.
“During the subsequent years 1852-3-4, he was continuing his musical
services at public-houses, and becoming familiar with company no
better than it should be.
“In the autumn of 1854 he was carrying on a daring game of house
robbery, and from a report in the papers it appeared that on the 13th
of October, 1854, Charles Peace, Mary Ann Niel, his sister, and Emma
James were placed in the dock of the Town Hall to answer several
charges of felony.
“James had offered a pair of boots in pledge at the shop of Messrs.
Wright, Westbar, and on her being detained on suspicion, Peace came
forward and claimed the boots, and was given into custody.
“In Peace’s mother’s house in Bailey-field, there was found a large
quantity of jewellery and wearing apparel (including crape shawls,
silk dresses, &c.), the proceeds of robberies effected at the
residences of H. E. Hoole, Esq., Crookes Moor House; R. Stuart, Esq.,
Brincliffe Edge; Mr. G. F. Platt, Priory Villa, Sharrow-lane; and Mr.
Brown, Broomhall-street.
“The houses of all these parties had been robbed by effecting an
entrance through the bedroom windows in the evening before the windows
were closed and fastened for the night. At Mr. Hoole’s the thief had
climbed the portico, and from Mr. Stuart’s a good deal of jewellery
had been stolen.
“The prisoners were clearly proved to have been in possession of this
property. The defence raised does not place in a very amiable light
the affection subsisting between the sister and that brother, who used
to avenge the wrongs she sustained at her husband’s hands. Each
accused the other of being the culprit.
“At the sessions at Doncaster (October, 20, 1854), Peace (who was
undefended) said that a watchmaker named Bethley in Division-street,
had kept his sister (Niel) for some years, and she had had three
children by him. Bethley, not having given her any money lately, sent
the jewellery and a bundle of wearing apparel by him to her, instead
of money. Peace was sentenced to four years’ penal servitude, and the
female prisoners each to six months’ imprisonment.
“Peace was described in the calendar at that time as being twenty-two
years of age. The mention of Bethley’s name will remind our readers
that he was the person who instructed Peace in the art of violin
playing, and Mrs. Niel’s connection with the case does not shed much
lustre on the family annals. She died we may add by way of completing
her history, on the 2nd April, 1859, age 33.
CHAPTER CLXX.
PEACE’S EXTRAORDINARY CAREER.
“There is an old Yorkshire saying, ‘When it is dangerous to speak the
truth, it is wisdom to say nothing,’ and that would appear to have
been the motto which Charles Peace adopted during the last four or
five years of his life.
“We are enabled to continue the narrative, not for the guidance of any
who may read it, but as a warning The fact that Peace has now to
answer the capital charge is of itself sufficient evidence of the
gradations downwards which the pursuit of crime involves.
“The singular episodes in the career of the criminal are stranger even
than many a highly imaginative novelist could have portrayed.
“The police have been acquainted with many of them for months, and
have been puzzled by them.
“The narratives are obtained from a private source of a perfectly
reliable character, and are given accordingly.
“In the course of recent inquiries allusion has been made to certain
letters which were addressed to Mrs. Dyson by the prisoner. These
letters had upon them the Hamburg postmark, showing they had been
posted there.
“From that it was argued that Peace had been living in that town, but
the man never left the country excepting once――when sent to Gibraltar.
He gave the letters to a captain to post in Hamburg, and his
instructions were faithfully carried out.
“That Peace had committed a great number of burglaries and impudent
feats of housebreaking there can be no doubt, but his most daring ones
have certainly been completed in the metropolis, and during recent
years.
“Three-fourths of the thefts which he has committed in this way have
been between six and eight o’clock in the evening, and but very few of
them after midnight.
“Now that he has been found out to have been the sole perpetrator of
some of the robberies, reference to the police books proves the
statement as to the hours when these were done to be correct.
“One night Peace repaired to a house in Greenwich, his object being to
‘borrow’ some jewellery which he knew to be in one of the bedrooms. It
was the dwelling of a rich man, and when he reached the second story
window at the back he for the first time in his life became acquainted
with the use of a patent window fastener. When he had raised the sash
about two inches he found it was prevented from going any further
upwards by two brass nobs which protruded from the woodwork.
“In addition to that there was another apparatus which prevented him
from moving the sash back again――it was locked. He was very much
annoyed with this contrivance, but being of a resolute turn of mind he
repaired to the same house in a night or two afterwards and took
another course, certainly an extraordinarily bold one.
“He took the window frames out bodily, in the same manner as is often
done for the removal of furniture in and out of the houses, and
entered the house that way. The booty he secured on that occasion was
exceedingly valuable.
“There is no doubt that Peace was well prepared for anyone should they
endeavour to effect his capture, and there can be no more ample proof
of this than the reception he gave Police-constable Robinson. It is
believed, however, that had he known there were other members of the
police force about besides Robinson, the latter would have had a sorry
time of it.
“Whatever is stated to the contrary, Peace was undoubtedly a ‘dead
shot’ when he meant it. He has fired over the heads of many people who
have disturbed him in his operations.
“On one occasion, in London, he broken into a gentleman’s house, and
had gathered together a number of valuables.
“This was when the family were at dinner below. To his chagrin, a
lacquey entered the room, stared at him for a moment, and then, as if
divining his purpose, bolted down the stairs.
“Peace got through the window by which he had entered, passed to the
roof of an outbuilding, and dropped into the back yard. But the
footman, for he was no other, had given the alarm to his master, and
the latter, with presence of mind, had run to the kennel and unchaned
a large mastiff dog.
“The animal at once dashed towards Peace, but was shot dead on the
spot by the intruder, the bullet entering its forehead, and the
gentleman and his servant retreated indoors.
“On another occasion lights wore observed through the upper windows of
a house by the police on beat, who suspected that a burglar was at
work in the upper rooms.
“The officers made their dispositions, and were confident that they
had the depredator completely boxed. But the officers had ‘reckoned
without their host.’
“It was not a burglar of the ordinary stamp with whom they had to
deal, but one who had gone through nearly every phase of life which it
is possible for one who follows ‘the profession’ to experience.
“An alarm was raised, when, luckily for Peace, it proved that the
occupants of the house were an old man and woman and the servant.
“He took good care they did not see him, but quickly made his way into
the garret. The constables were admitted after some little demur, and
a thorough search took place, but no intruder could be found. Still
there was the fact that strange lights had been seen in the place, and
the kitchen window had been broken open.
“One of the constables, however, raised the garret window, and on
looking through saw a man sitting on the slates. He seemed determined
to follow, and commenced to do so, but he found that he had no
foothold, for the roof was of pantiles. Peace had slipped off his
boots and left them on the roof.
“In great haste he scrambled away. His left foot came in contact with
one of the broken tiles, and he cut it exceedingly severely. He got on
some outbuilding, dropped into a garden, and escaped. He did not
recover from his injuries, however, for some weeks after.
“On two separate occasions after the murder Peace was within a few
yards of the clutches of the Hull detectives when they were actually
in search of him.
“He had taken up his temporary quarters in a house there, and they
must have suspected that he was lurking somewhere about it, for one
day two detectives entered. He was in the back kitchen; so he quietly
went upstairs and into the garret.
“The lower rooms were looked into, and also the bedrooms, but there
were no suspicious appearances, and the search was not proceeded with.
On that occasion Peace was interrupted whilst in the enjoyment of a
basin of soup.
“Shortly after that the detectives again visited the same place, for
they still thought they might find some clue to him in the town which
he had previously lived in. When they entered the front door Peace was
again in the kitchen half stripped, washing himself at the sink. He
had scarcely time to reach the top of the stairs before they were at
the bottom of them, and he ‘made’ straight for the garret――this time
to the roof also.
“He must have considered himself hardly pressed, for after going along
the slates he got into another house through the window, and explained
his presence in that condition to the wondering woman who occupied the
house, by representing that the police were after him ‘because he had
deserted his family.’
“He said that he had only done it a week or so before through
necessity, but had now got work, and intended to fetch his wife and
the little ones. He was then allowed to remain in the house for the
rest of the day――for this took place at noon.
“The detectives once more retired, after a fruitless search, and
without the slightest knowledge that they had been so near to the one
they wanted. That night had they apprehended a person who was dressed
in female clothing, and who booked from Hull to Manchester, they would
have caught Charles Peace, for it was disguised in this way that he
effected his escape on that occasion from the town.
“From thence he went to Manchester, and afterwards to Nottingham. He
was fruitful in his resources whenever danger was pressing, and, it
will be seen, as cunning as he possibly could be.
“He had ‘nerve,’ however, and a run of good luck in almost all his
proceedings.
“There was no doubt that the police were on a good track when they
watched Hull closely, and though it may seem easy to say, ‘They might
have seen,’ when the secret is known, they were not aware that they
had nearly had the one they sought securely in their hand.”
PEACE’S CAPTOR.
The proposed testimonial to Police-constable Robinson, the officer who
captured Peace, prospered very satisfactorily. Subscriptions were
received at the “Royal Hotel,” Haymarket; the “Star,” High-street; the
“Exchange,” Exchange-street; the “Elephant,” Norfolk-street; “Bull’s
Head,” Sheffield-moor; “Old Star Vaults,” Old Haymarket; “Royal
Hotel,” Highfield; “Little Angel,” Westbar; “Hen and Chickens,”
Castle-greeen; “Queen,” Sheaf-street.
Mr. George Dawson, a local phrenologist, sent the following letter:――
“Those who have or have not had the satisfaction to see
Charles Peace are naturally desirous of seeing the man who
was chiefly instrumental in capturing the great rascal, and
who had so narrow an escape from being murdered by him.
“As many have asked me if I had seen him, the following
brief sketch may be interesting:――Mr. Robinson is a
good-looking, quiet, pleasant genial fellow, not unlike the
Prince of Wales――has his type of features. He is rather
florid, with light brown hair and beard. He is very finely
developed physically, plump and muscular, with sufficient of
adipose tissue to make him round in form and easy in manner.
“The bony and fibrous systems are less high in him than the
vital and muscular. He is about 39 or 40 in. round the
chest, 5 ft. 7½ in. high. He looks only a little man, but I
am told he weighs 13 stone. He has a small head, measuring
21½ about, and his brain is mostly developed in the
practical and observing and the moral faculties.
“He is quite firm and independent, but lacks self-esteem;
has no desire or ability to show off――is very retiring. He
is steady, cool, and rather harmonious, but has only
moderate destructiveness and combativeness. Hence he is
mild, kindly, and genial, the ‘knotty’ and ‘quarrelsome’
points being weak.
“He would hurt even a burglar only in self-defence. He is in
almost every respect――bodily and mentally――the very opposite
of Peace, though this is not the time to give a
phrenological description of that gentleman. Sheffielders
are pleased with the captor of their chief ruffian――and he
is pleased with the heartiness and kindliness of
Sheffielders.”
EXTRAORDINARY COMMUNICATIONS.
Running away from Bannercross on the night of the murder, Peace
accidentally or intentionally dropped a small bundle of notes and
letters.
These were mentioned in the court of the proceedings at the trial, and
they formed the subject of much of Mr. Clegg’s cross-examination in
court. It is contended by Peace thet they were written to him by Mrs.
Dyson. Mrs. Dyson, however, swears positively that they were not
written by her, and that she never saw them until they were shown to
her some time after they were found.
The theory of the prosecution was that the whole of the notes and
letters were written by Peace for his own purpose. What those purposes
were, of course can only be imagined.
It may have been to get Mrs. Dyson into his power. The notes were of
an extraordinary character. Most of them were written in pencil on
scraps of paper. As doubless this correspondence will be read with
considerable interest, we give it in its entirety, following the
spelling and other eccentricities of the writer:――
“Things are very bad for peple told him everything so the say you cat
pick out for D. Do keep quiet, and don’t let anyone see you. Money
send me some.
“Send me a drink. I am nearly dead.
“be quick * * you * * he is out now.
“he is out now so be quick fanny as * * * let us have a look at you.
“Will you send me a shilling or two and a drope and keep very quiet,
be quick.
“Give it to me up in the garret but don’t talk for fear he is not
going only his sister is coming, love to all.
“I will write you a note when I can perhaps to-morrow. You can give me
something as a present if you like but I dont want to be covetous and
take them from your wife and daughter.
“Mrs. Norton is raising hell about what I * * * * Could you settle it
and send me a print that is I have and * * * * her to let me have a
pint.
… he is gone out come now for I must have a drink.
“After he is going out I won’t go if I can help it so see for Janey.
“I have just run out of writing paper excuse the envelope. Many thanks
for my book, don’t mind framing the picture, let them have it without,
as I have nothing to say in the matter. I will thank your wife as soon
as I get a chance to see her for her kind present, tell her so, with
my love. I was very sorry to hear your quarling, hope it is all
settled now――and * * * * having to hear the readings you should be
quiet. You have a good wife, be kind to her. This was written
yesterday, but could not see you.
“He won’t say when he is going. Not to-day anyhow he is not very well.
I will write you when I have a chance and put you in the work * * * *
“He only went for tobacco and he has not been out. I shall tell you
when he does. You must not say I am Dr. when I am not for I don’t
thank you for you form that opinion. I shall go to Ireland if you
don’t be―――― I am washing to-day, so he won’t be out perhaps. Get me
paper. Love.
“If you have a note for me send now while he is out, but you must not
venture for he is watching, and you cant be too careful, hope your
foot is better, he went to Sheffi yesterday but I could not see you
anywhere were you out love to Ja.
“Have you got your handkerchief I lost mine * * pocket hank and gloves
* * * * thanks for this money * * * must be careful and not show
anything or I will let you starve.
“I think I will go by 9 o’clock now, you must not go by train, go by
trem because he will go down with me don’t let him see anything. Meet
me in the Wicker hope nothing will turn up to prevent it. Love to
Janey.
“If you are not at home Janey will give you this do be careful you
will get yourself into trouble about the empty house dont come until I
tell you there is a man over the wall says he will give you hell now I
tell you this as a friend so as you may be on the look out for your
familyes.
“How well you never told that man. I looked at you out of the window.
You left me to find out for myself, and would not put me on my guard,
as I do yo you. Hope you won’t omit again. Don’t talk to Willie much,
or give him any halfpegs. * * * * Don’t be a fool. It looks as if you
want people to know the way you and――――if you are not more careful we
will have to say quits. I have told you not to say anything until * *
* *
“Saturday Afternoon.
“I write you these few lines to thank you for all your
kindness which I shall never forget from you and your wife
she is a very good one does she know you are to give me the
things or not how can you keep them concealed one thing I
would wish you to do is to frame his mothers photo and send
it in with my music book if you please do it when he is in.
Many thanks for your kind advice I hope I shall benefit by
it. I shall try to do right by everyone if I can and shall
always look on you as a friend, good bye I have not much
time, burn this when you read it.
“Dear sir,――Are you at home or not, for I can’t see you. I
looked for you yesterday, when I went to Sheffield, but
could not see you, and don’t like to send if you are not in,
because I know Janey have not seen you all day; but he has
not been out. You are getting very with old Ned; don’t blab
anything to him, for it will be all over. Never speak of me.
I will not send this till I know you are at home. Hope you
are well, and don’t fret; but I will give you the wink when
the coast is clear; but you must not take notice till I tell
you or you will make a mess of it, because he is always on
the look out. Don’t know when he will go out again, but will
sure tell you. Love to G―――― b――――, burn this.
OTHER MURDERS BY PEACE.
The _Sheffield Telegraph_ stated:――“‘Peace has committed many murders;
he has done more than two, yes many!’
“Such were the words which fell from the lips of one who was placed in
close communication with the convict, and who occupies a position
which entitles his utterance to the fullest credence. We may go
further and say that there is ample testimony that Peace has indeed
pursued a career even more bloodstained than has yet been made known
to the public, and that could he have been prevailed upon to state the
whole of the fouler crimes that he has committed, there would indeed
be a category so revolting that the community would scarcely believe
such outrages could have been perpetrated, and the chief actor in them
have escaped so long.
“He has not alone taken human life, in order to escape arrest, but he
has taken it that he might effect robbery. Peace had accomplices in
these deeds. There are those living who know, not only of their
execution, but also of the planning of them, and have had a hand in
the foul transaction.
“A statement like the foregoing is startling, but we have good grounds
for saying that subsequent events will prove the truthfulness of them.
It is also stated on high authority that more than one person is in
prison suffering for the misdeeds of this man.
“We announced on the 11th instant that Peace had told his family on
the previous day that one young man had already served seven years in
penal servitude, having been respited after being condemned to death
for wilful murder.
“We are told that Peace still holds to the statement, and says he will
give such evidence as will clear the man. He gives further a strong
intimation that he himself did the deed. The murder was committed at
the close of 1871 or in 1872.
“We are also informed that on one occasion Peace premeditated a
jewellery robbery in Chelsea, and that in order to carry it out he
associated himself with a female paramour, who obeyed his
instructions. This woman of set purpose sought the friendship of the
jeweller, and became intimate with him, and on the night of the
burglary assisted the chief actor in it.
“The jeweller offered a resistance, and was murdered, no person ever
being convicted of the crime. The authorities are already using every
means at their disposal for the discovery of Peace’s principal
movements during the past three years, and the recovery of some of the
property stolen might lead to results of enormous consequence as
affecting this revelation. There is now proof in hand that it was not
with the bullet alone that Peace sent some of his victims on their
last journey.
“It will be remembered that, when he was finally captured, a large
knife was found in his possession, but on that occasion he never had
the opportunity of using it. However, information has been given that
on another occasion, whilst he was engaged in committing a robbery, he
was surprised by a man, when he drew a knife from the pocket where he
always kept it and stabbed his would-be captor.
“After that he gave the poor fellow a heavy downward blow with the
weapon, and inflicted a wound from which the bowels protruded, and
which ultimately caused the death of the victim. We have ground for
stating also that more than one of his victims has been thrown into
the Thames, although the murders have not taken place on its banks, if
near to them.
“The convict has made use of certain expressions which leave no doubt
that the worst part of his criminal career dates more than ten years
back, probably fifteen, and though he is reticent on this point, it is
believed that one of the greatest reasons for his disquietude of mind
is the knowledge that more than one has suffered innocently because of
his misdeeds.
“He has yet to state, should he carry out the intentions he has
expressed, whether or not anyone has suffered on the gallows for
murder done by him, and from the peculiar manner in which he has dealt
with this subject it is feared that such is the case.
“It is thought also that the convict will throw some light on several
tragedies in which he had not been personally concerned, but of which
he has had a guilty knowledge. Should he do so――and it is a certainty
he can if he likes――more tales of horror will be revealed, and some
who are at liberty now will have to succumb to their merited fate.
“Allusion was made to the fact that Peace had accomplices in his
crimes, and that they had a guilty knowledge of murder and of
robberies which he committed. He has, however, gone even further.
“This week he made use of these extraordinary words: ‘Yes, it was
known what I was doing and what I have done, and before I die I will
tell something and prove it too, which will show who knew.
“‘Before I die I will make a revelation which will show what one man
is, and it will place in the dock a man who occupies a far higher post
than ever Micklejohn or Druscovitoh did. Palmer never did anything
like it.’
“Beyond the facts above recorded, we have further ground for saying
that Peace was concerned in the Portland-street murder, London, when
it will be remembered that a French lady, named Madame Riel, was found
lying in a cupboard in her house having had her brains half knocked
out. The unfortunate woman had also a thick rope entwined round her
neck.
“The murder had been committed in the coal cellar, and the lady had
been dragged upstairs to the cupboard, where her body lay all day,
until it was found by her daughter and others.
“The cook, a Frenchwoman, absconded to Paris with some of Madame
Riel’s diamonds, and was apprehended in St. Denis by Druscovitch, the
London detective, and some of the French gendarmerie.
“It then transpired that she had not committed the murder of her
mistress alone, but was helped by more than one.
“Before the day of his execution, it is confidently believed that he
will make such disclosures as will throw even the above revolting
confessions into the shade.”
The _Manchester Evening News_ is responsible for the following story,
which, whatever may be said of the facts it narrates, either does not
relate to Peace, or is altogether mistaken as to time. Four years ago
Peace, as is perfectly well known, was living in Scotland-street,
whence, in the beginning of 1875, he removed to Darnall.
We have previously stated that when the transference of his
picture-frame making business from Kenyon-alley to West-street proved
a failure, he and his family went to live in Manchester, but that was
in 1866, and he had not been there a fortnight before he was caught
robbing a house, and was sentenced to eight years’ penal servitude:――
“As our readers are well aware, Charles Peace, the man condemned to
death for the Bannercross murder, on more than one occasion plied his
many vocations in Manchester and the neighbourhood. From inquiries
made in Levenshulme, it transpires that the notorious criminal resided
in that pleasant suburb about four years ago.
“He stayed there only three months, and after he left the many freaks
he committed gradually faded from the memory of the local residents.
However, not many days ago a policeman took a photograph of Peace to
the locality, and many tradesmen at once recognised him as the man who
had formerly lived amongst them. In fact, he had for the time been
quite a favourite in the district, and was well known to most of the
inhabitants.
“He rented a small detached house called ‘Olave Cottage,’ in Rushford
Park, which he had fairly well furnished. He gave his name as ‘Mr.
Thompson,’ and he was accompanied by a woman who is supposed to be
Mrs. Peace.
“He was never idle and always had some project on foot. He was
constantly painting his cottage, and he took such trouble with the
work that the neighbours took it for granted that he meant to remain
there at least for some years.
“He was very affable and obliging to everybody, and was, until he
decamped without paying his accounts, a great favourite with the
tradesmen. To ladies he was especially polite and attentive. To every
woman he met in a shop, he said, ‘good morning’ in the most agreeable
tones, but usually accompanied his attentions by a wink at the
shopman. He obtained considerable notoriety by his skill in contorting
his features and assuming the appearance of a cripple. Subsequently he
was known to have been the ‘Burnage Bogie,’ an apparition that had
scared many people in Burnage-lane, and made numerous folks afraid to
use that thoroughfare after nightfall.
At the same time it is somewhat novel to learn that he was never
suspected of committing any robbery, nor has it been proved that he
gave effect to his thieving propensity in the neighbourhood. If he did
carry on any ‘business’ of that nature he certainly was never
mistrusted on that ground, and even now not the slightest accusation
is made against him on that score.
“Ostensibly he earned his livelihood as an acrobat, and was, we are
informed, engaged at the Abbey Hey Grounds. In this capacity he was
considered to be exceedingly clever, and our informant assures us that
he could throw fifty-six pound weights about like pounds of sugar. He
likewise performed publicly on the violin, and was regarded by the
frequenters of the grounds as an able musician.
“As we have said, he was much esteemed whilst he lived as Levenshulme,
owing chiefly to his unbounded spirits and his witticisms. He was
respected as an honest, straightforward man, and no one anticipated
that he would disappear so suddenly without paying sundry bills, and
least of all was it thought that he would turn out to be one of the
most remarkable criminals with which this country has become
acquainted for many years.”
PEACE’S AGE.
One of the most curious things about the personality of Peace is the
conflict between his appearance and his age. He has been almost
invariably spoken of as an old man, and no one seeing him could for a
moment suppose that the age we have previously given, on the authority
of the police notice issued after the Bannercross affair, is the
correct one. That notice spoke of him as then forty-six years of age,
but as looking ten years older. We have reason to believe that he is
even now (two years afterwards) only forty-six, and will not be
forty-seven until May next. He was born on the 14th of May, 1832, and
it may, perhaps, be a convenience if we give the cardinal points of
his career in brief chronological form:――
1832. May 14.――Born in Nursery-street.
1846. ” Injured at Kelham Mills.
” to 1848.――Two years’ illness.
1848 to 1851.――Employed by Mr. Edward Smith and in learning to play
the violin.
1851. Oct. 26.――Robs Mrs. Ward’s house.
” Dec. 13.――Sentenced to one month’s imprisonment; age nineteen.
” to 1854.――Playing the violin at publichouses, &c.
1854. Sep. 7.――Robs Crookesmoor House.
” Sep. 20.――Robs Mr. Stuart’s house, Brincliffe, and many
similar robberies about the same time.
1854. Oct. 20 }
to } Four year’s penal servitude; age 22.
1858. }
1858 or 1859.――Marries Hannah Ward.
1859 Nov. 29 } Daughter, Jane Ann, born.
or 30.}
1859. Aug. 11,}
to } Penal servitude; age 27.
1864, June. }
1864 to 1866.――Picture-frame maker in Kenyon-alley and West-street.
1866. Dec. 3, }
to } Penal servitude; age 34.
1872, Aug. 8. }
1872 to 1875.――Picture-frame maker, in Brocco and Scotland-street.
1875, to Aug.,} Picture-frame maker at Darnall.
1876. }
1876. Aug. to } Provision shopkeeper, in Hull.
Nov. }
1876. Nov. 14.――Leaves Hull suddenly.
1876. Nov. 29.――Shoots Mr. Dyson.
1876 to 1878.――Committing constant robberies at Nottingham, Hull,
Lambeth, Greenwich, and Peckham.
1878. Oct. 10.――Captured by Police-constable Robinson while committing
a burglary; gives name of John Ward.
” Nov. 6.――Identified in Newgate as Charles Peace.
” Nov. 19.――Penal servitude for life; age forty-six.
1879. Jan. 22.――Attempts to commit suicide by leaping from train.
” Jan. 24.――Committed for trial on a charge of wilful murder.
CHAPTER CLXXI.
EVENTS BEFORE THE EXECUTION――LETTER FROM THE HABRONS.
On Monday, February 24th, Mrs. Peace, Willie Ward, and Mr. and Mrs.
Bolsover went to Leeds and had a final interview with Peace in his
condemned cell in Armley Gaol.
It was their intention when they went on Friday to have taken their
leave of him for ever in this world; but he begged of them to come
again on Monday, so that they might be the last of his relatives he
would see before he was executed, and they promised him that they
would do so.
They left Sheffield by the 10.50 train, and on arriving at Leeds they
went to the Town Hall, where they found the orders ready for them to
admit them to Armley. They got there soon after one o’clock, and after
waiting for a short time they were conducted to the cell of the
condemned man.
Peace was up and sitting at his little table writing a letter. He
appeared better and more cheerful than he had been, although he
complained of being very weak, and of suffering much pain, especially
in his head.
When the chief warder conducted the party into the barred portion of
the cell he called out, “Visitors, Peace!” The convict looked round
and gave them a smile of recognition.
The two warders, who were in the cell with him, lifted him up――one
taking hold of each arm, and then his chair was removed so close to
the bars that when Peace was placed in it again he was able to rest
his hand upon them.
Two chairs were then placed for the accommodation of Mrs. Peace and
Mrs. Bolsover, and the two men were allowed to occupy the little seat
that is always there. These were attentions that had not been shown to
visitors on former occasions.
Peace was the first to speak, and beginning with his wife he addressed
each by name, and asked how they were. Seeing that they were scarcely
able to suppress their feelings, and to reply to him, he told them he
hoped they would restrain their grief, or it would upset him. At
present he said he felt very happy, and he did not want to be
disturbed.
He then informed them that Messrs. Ford and Warren, solicitors, had
been instructed to prepare another will and deed of gift, and that
everything necessary had now been done to ensure their obtaining
possession of whatever property he had.
They would now have no difficulty in claiming all he had possessed
wherever they found it.
He next told them that Mr. Brion had been to see him, and had
acknowledged to having in his custody their drawing-room suite, the
model boat and case, cockatoo and cage, and that he would give them up
to whoever might be legally entitled to receive them.
The chaplain and the warders had heard that statement and would
corroborate it if necessary.
The goods were made over to Willie and Mrs. Bolsover, and he told them
what he should like each to have; and how they were to proceed to
recover the things.
While conversing on this point reference was made to Mrs. Thompson,
and Peace said he wished her well, but he was afraid she was going the
wrong road. It was his belief that the best that could be done for her
would be to place her in a prison or a reformatory for a short time,
so as to break her off her intense craving for drink. He was afraid
she would make away with herself.
On one occasion, when living at Peckham, Mrs. Thompson attempted to
strangle herself, and Peace then told her he “would rather die on the
scaffold than live the life they were living.” He now said he little
thought when he made that remark that he should die on the scaffold.
Speaking of the articles he possessed when he was at Peckham, he said
there was his small monument which was missing, the larger monument
they had now at Darnall, the model boat, and his fiddle walking
stick――four of about as well made and curious things as could be seen
anywhere.
The fiddle is a hollow bamboo cane, to which a tail piece, bridge, and
screws can be attached, and then it can be played upon. Peace has
played upon it many a time.
He told his friends if they could collect these four articles and have
them exhibited at some music-hall in Sheffield as curiosities which
had belonged to him, they might make money out of them.
Peace then alluded to the interview he had with the Rev. Mr.
Littlewood, vicar of Darnall, and said he believed he had convinced
that gentleman that it was really not him that stole the clock from
Darnall schoolroom.
Mr. Littlewood had written to him for information about robberies
which had been committed at Darnall and the neighbourhood, and he had
replied to him, telling him that he never did a robbery at Darnall,
Hardsworth, or any other place nearer than Sheffield.
Mr. Brion had asked him to send him a letter from the scaffold, and he
had promised to do so, but he had not then had time to write it.
He said for several days he had done nothing else but write to his
relatives and friends. He had got nearly all the letters ready, and he
intended to take them with him to the scaffold.
“You know,” he said, “my hands will be fastened behind me before I
leave my cell, but I shall hold the letters, and when I reach the
scaffold I shall ask the chaplain to take them out of my hand and to
post them to you.”
At this stage of the interview the sound of men hammering reached the
cell. Peace listened for a moment, and then said, “That’s a noise that
would make some men fall on the floor! I hear they are working at my
own scaffold. I have heard them before this morning.”
The chief warder made answer, “You are mistaken, Peace; it is nothing
of the sort.”
Peace: No I am not. I have not worked so long with wood without
knowing the sound of deals; and they don’t have deals inside a prison
for anything else than for scaffolds. I have heard them knocking the
nails in, and I am sure I am right.
But (continued he), it does not matter much; it makes no difference to
me. I should like to see my own coffin, and my own grave. It would not
make the slightest difference to me, because I am prepared. I only
look upon the scaffold as a short cut to Heaven. Alluding to the
manner in which he would be buried, he said: I shall be thrown into my
grave like a dog; but it won’t matter; it will only be my poor body
that will be there. My soul, I believe, will be in Heaven.
Peace then told his friends that he had received a letter from the
father and mother of young William Habron, who was undergoing a
sentence of penal servitude for life, for the murder of Police-constable
Cock, asking him if he really had made a confession, and whether there
was any probability of their son returning home to them.
Peace said he had written back to them at Manchester telling them that
he had made a full confession of the murder, had drawn plans of the
place where it occurred, and had sent them to the Home Secretary. He
further told them that if their son had justice done to him he would
be set at liberty.
Indeed he had no doubt that he would he restored to them.
He said he had asked the father and mother to forgive him for the
great wrong he had done them, and had begged of them to ask their son
when he came home to forgive him as well. He should be dead then; but
he hoped to have the forgiveness of them all.
Since he had confessed to the crime he had been much happier than he
was before; and he hoped his confession would be believed.
Suddenly arousing himself the convict said, “I have a good thing to
tell you;” and he proceeded to relate the following remarkable
incident:――
He said, “You have often heard ministers and others speak of the value
of a soul and what sacrifices they would make to be the means of the
conversion of one soul. I believe that, base and bad as I am, I have
been the means of the conversion of one man. It occurred when I was
brought down from Pentonville to Sheffield on the first occasion to be
tried.
“There was a traveller to Manchester in the same train, and when we
reached Sheffield he left his carriage and came out of mere curiosity
to see me taken by the warders from the train to the cab.
“He went back to his carriage very much impressed with what he had
seen of me and heard about me, and began to think about his own past
life, and where such a life was likely to lead him. He could not shake
off the feelings that had taken possession of him; he began to pray,
and has since become a Christian.
“He has written to the chaplain, telling him all the story, and
assuring him that through me he had believed, and had found salvation.
He asked the chaplain if the prison rules would allow of it, to bring
his letter and read it to me, and he has done so.
“Who would have thought,” repeated Peace, “that a bad, base man as I
am should have been the means of the conversion of anybody? There is
just that one good thing I have done, at any rate.”
Peace then told them that he had received letters from several persons
whose houses he had robbed, telling him that they forgave him, and
that they were praying for him.
The recollection of such unexpected kindness seemed to quite overpower
the convict, and he displayed more feeling than he had done
throughout.
[Sidenote: No. 98.]
[Illustration: PEACE’S LAST BREAKFAST ON THE MORNING OF EXECUTION.]
Commencing with his daughter, he asked each separately whether there
was anything either wanted to ask him or to say to him. They were too
much overcome to reply to him for a while; but presently Mrs. Peace
said they had plenty to say to him, but not then.
He begged of her not to break down, and reminded her that that was the
last time she would have an opportunity of speaking to him on this
side of the grave.
He again asked her what she wished to say, and she reminded him that
when there before he promised to pray with them when they came that
day. He replied, “So I will.”
The warders assisted him to kneel, and his friends knelt with him, and
more than half an hour he prayed with them. He remembered each of them
separately, and was especially earnest in his petitions for the little
babe that his daughter had with her.
He then prayed for young Habron, and asked that his innocence might be
proved; and he prayed for Habron’s father and mother.