was proved to have pawned a pair of shoes which had also been stolen
from Mr. Campion's. Upon their examination before the magistrates at
Bow-street, Banks' participation in both burglaries was clearly proved,
and he was committed for trial. Both Mr. and Mrs. Warrington identified
him as one of the persons who had entered their house, but pointed him
out as having acted with some degree of humanity, strongly protesting
against the exercise of any cruelty by his companions.
Banks alone was committed for trial upon the charge of burglary at Mr.
Warrington's, the evidence against the other prisoners not being
sufficiently conclusive to warrant their being indicted, and was found
guilty, and sentenced to death at the succeeding Surrey assizes.
After his conviction, he professed himself to be perfectly willing to
meet his fate, as he knew nothing of a state hereafter, declaring that
all he cared about being hanged was for the pain it would cause him. He
refused to receive any consolation from the chaplain, and was perfectly
unmoved up to the time of his being pinioned.
He was hanged at Horsemonger-lane jail on the 11th of January, 1830.
ROBERT EMOND.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The crime which subjected this criminal to condign punishment was that
of the murder of an aged widow and her daughter, to whom he was related
by the ties of marriage.
Mr. Franks, at the time of the murders lately deceased, was gamekeeper
to the late Lord Elcho; and when age, and consequently frailty, rendered
him incompetent to the prompt discharge of his duties, his lordship made
such arrangements as enabled his old and respected servant to subsist in
an humble but comfortable independence. On the 26th of July, 1829, Mr.
Franks was consigned to the grave, and he left the hapless subjects of
this notice--a widow, nearly fifty, and a daughter of fifteen years of
age--to lament his death.
On Sunday, the 25th of October, according to custom, they attended the
Rev. Mr. Hogg's chapel, and, no doubt, they had very little suspicion
that it was for the last time. The house in which they resided near
Haddington was about one hundred yards from the village of Abbey, in
East Lothian, and with the garden was enclosed by a wall above six feet
in height. The village youth never once thought of stealing fruit from
people so warmly beloved, and consequently the garden-door stood always
open. On that night they were brutally murdered. His plans carefully
matured, the murderer deliberately fastened the garden-door, so that the
escape of the intended victims, and any attempts at resistance, were
rendered exceedingly difficult. He then scaled the wall, and proceeded
to the awful work of homicide. His first attempt to gain admittance was
at a window in front of the house. He broke two panes of glass; but the
inside shutters were too securely fastened to yield to his efforts.
Baffled and disappointed, he had recourse to another window in the same
room; and after breaking two panes of glass, and using great exertion,
the keeper gave way, and the monster obtained admission. He passed
deliberately through the room, through a sinuous passage, through the
kitchen, and then burst into the bedroom of Mrs. Franks and her
daughter. The unfortunate ladies had been alarmed by the noise the
villain made in breaking into their sanctuary. The mother had time to
throw her gown over a petticoat; but the daughter, a stranger to the
crimes of the world, and naturally possessing a more tranquil mind, and
being more soundly asleep, had barely time to clothe herself with the
gown she had on at church, ere she was in the grasp of her ruthless
murderer. Dread, desperation, and the potent instinct of
self-preservation naturally incited a resolute resistance; but the
well-prepared and determined murderer prevailed. In the vain and
delusive hope of escape the wretched mother fled from the appalling
scene of death, and ran to the garden-door, expecting to reach the
village; but there she was stopped by the cool and fiendish deliberation
of her destroyer. Having despatched the daughter, he followed the
mother, seized her at the garden-door, and with one of her own
table-knives, ended her life, by nearly severing the head from her body.
He then threw the bleeding corpse into a hogsty, which was only ten
yards distant; and the marks of the ruffian's gory hands were observable
on the entry-door. The bloody tragedy being finished, the scarcely less
important consideration next came--that of plunder. He coolly locked the
kitchen-door inside, turned out the contents of the drawers, and
ransacked all the repositories; indeed, so minute and persevering was
the search, that a considerable breadth of plaster was torn from the
roof of a room in the attic story, where there had previously been a
small aperture, in expectation, no doubt, that money was concealed in
that unusual place. The rings were torn from the ears of Mrs. Franks;
three gold rings, it is said, were taken from her finger, which were
carried off, along with a silver watch. Having completed his unhallowed
undertaking, and secured all the plunder that suited his purpose, the
ruffian retired, as he had entered, by the window.
Neither on the Monday nor Tuesday following was Mrs. Franks or her
daughter observed; but this excited no surprise, as it was concluded by
those by whom they were missed, that they were absent on a friendly
visit to the sister of the former at North Berwick. On Wednesday
morning, a woman requested a young man to make his way over the
garden-wall, and ascertain if a pig that belonged to Mrs. Franks had any
provision. He promptly obeyed; and on looking into the hogsty, was
horrified by the sight of the widow's mangled remains. He gave an
involuntary but vehement scream, and his employer, Mr. Dudgeon, a
miller, and a number more, promptly repaired to the spot. The body was
taken out, and, to their inexpressible horror, they discovered that the
throat was cut from ear to ear. Alarming suspicions flashed across their
minds; they instantly ran to the house, and having obtained an entrance,
they discovered the daughter--pale, dead, lying amidst a quantity of
blood, and the brain protruding from her skull.
Suspicions of the guilt of Emond from circumstances which became known
to the authorities were at once excited; and efforts were made to secure
his apprehension. He had resided for some time at North Berwick, and was
married to that very sister of Mrs. Franks, whom it was supposed she had
gone to visit; and repeated expressions of dislike on his part towards
his sister-in-law, and of threatened revenge for her interference in his
family quarrels, were deemed sufficient to justify the course which was
taken. In the course of a few days he was apprehended; but it was not
until the 8th of February 1830 that he was brought to trial. The
investigation took place before the High Court of Justiciary at
Edinburgh, and the wretched criminal was pronounced guilty amidst a
tumultuous burst of execration, and was ordered for execution on the
17th of March.
Immediately after his trial the convict confessed that he had committed
the dreadful crimes imputed to him, under the circumstances which we
have narrated. He appeared, however, to view his murder of Mrs. Franks
as an act which her previous conduct towards him justified; but when he
alluded to the death of her daughter, he appeared struck with remorse
and despair, exclaiming wildly, "Innocent blood calls for vengeance."
On the appointed day the prisoner underwent the punishment due to his
crimes, at the end of Libberton's Wynd. On the Friday before his death
he was visited by his wife, for the first time during his imprisonment.
On being informed she was come, he exclaimed, "Oh, God, how can I meet
her--how can I see her!" She refused to proceed farther than the cell
door, and on seeing her husband, said, "Oh, Robert, Robert, you see what
you have brought yourself to!" He used some soothing expressions, and
going as far as his chains would permit, said, "Mary, will you not shake
hands with me?" but she shrunk back, saying, "Oh, no, no; how can I
touch you?" However, by the persuasion of the clergyman, she did shake
hands with him. He then wished to impress on her, that he always loved
her affectionately; but she replied, "Oh, Robert, ye ken your conduct
didna look like that." They were beginning to recriminate, when it was
thought best to finish the interview. She was again asked to shake hands
at parting, but at first refused, exclaiming, "Oh, no, no--I cannot
touch him;" but being advised to extend her hand, which he held firmly,
she shuddered and shrieked out, "Oh that hand, that hand!" On being told
that a Mrs. Cron was with his wife, he said, "I would to God that
infernal woman had been in place of the girl (meaning Magdalene Franks).
Were I as free as ever, I would be hanged this night, this instant, if I
had her here, and had my revenge." The criminal accused this woman of
fomenting differences between him and his wife.
At six o'clock in the morning of the day fixed for the execution, the
Rev. Mr. Porteous, who had been unwearied in his attentions to the
unhappy man, arrived and performed the religious exercises. About seven
o'clock, he was pinioned in the usual form.
The morning was cloudy and drizzling; but at an early hour the crowd
began to collect from all quarters, and a perfect stream of people
passed up the High-street for nearly two hours. The street, windows,
terraces, and chimney-tops, were densely peopled. Some hundreds of
persons from Haddington, North Berwick, and the adjacent villages
attended.
A few minutes past eight the culprit ascended the scaffold. His
appearance elicited a huzza from the boys among the crowd, but no
grown-up person joined in the unseemly and appalling shout. He was
attended by his brother, who joined him with the reverend gentleman, in
psalm-singing and prayer. The unhappy man remained firm and composed
throughout, but changed colour frequently when the executioner proceeded
to do his duty. He then shook hands with his brother, and the official
attendants said he was now ready, and bade them all farewell. After a
few moments in private prayer, the signal was dropped, and the platform
instantly fell. His struggles were unusually long and violent, and it
was apparently four or five minutes before the vital spark had fled.
Emond was a man of short stature, with ill-proportioned features, and
had, on the whole, a very unprepossessing look. After hanging the usual
time, the body was lowered down into the shell, and conveyed to the
Lock-up House, whence it was afterwards taken to the College for public
dissection.
CAPTAIN WILLIAM MOIR.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
This unhappy gentleman was a native of Forfarshire, in Scotland, where
he was born of a family of the highest respectability, in the year 1794.
At the age of nineteen he entered the British army; and during a period
of seventeen years served with great credit in the fourteenth,
thirty-seventh, and fortieth regiments of foot, in France, Spain, and
America. In the course of his sojourn in the latter country, (in the
year 1816,) he was united to a young lady of exceedingly amiable
disposition, who at that time had only reached her fourteenth year; and
upon his return to England, he resided with his wife in the vicinity of
London. Here he became acquainted with many families of high standing in
society; but tired of an idle life, he determined to devote his time to
the occupation of farming, and at Michaelmas 1829 he entered on the
possession of Shell-haven Farm, consisting of about four hundred acres
of land, and situated near Stanford-le-Hope, in the vicinity of Barking,
in Essex. At this time he had three children, respectively of the ages
of twelve, ten, and seven years, and there appeared every prospect of a
continuance of that happiness which he had so long enjoyed with his
family, when by an act, attributable rather to passion or insanity than
to preconceived deliberation, he subjected himself to the infliction of
the severest penalty of the law.
It would appear that Captain Moir was in the habit of pursuing a strict
line of discipline with regard to trespassers upon his farm, and was
considerably annoyed by the constant appearance of fishermen upon his
lands, who resorted thither for the purpose of dragging a portion of the
river which passed through them, and which was supposed to contain an
abundance of fish of a superior quality and size.
On Wednesday, the 24th of March, 1830, a poor man named Malcolm,
residing at Hammersmith, quitted home, in a boat, accompanied by his
apprentice, and a brother fisherman, named Duke, for the purpose of
fishing. They proceeded to Shell-haven Creek, where Malcolm threw out
his nets. In a short time Captain Moir made his appearance, armed with a
knife, and accompanied by a servant named Raven, and ordered the nets to
be removed. Malcolm offered some observations of abuse towards him, and
reluctantly retired; but he was proceeding across Captain Moir's
meadows, intending to go to the house of a man named Baker, when he was
called back, and ordered to go round by the sea-wall. He directed some
further abuse towards the captain, and took off his jacket, as if to
fight him, but at length he went away. Captain Moir then returned to his
house, and Malcolm and his assistants went to Baker's cottage; but they
had not been there more than an hour and a half, when they went back to
the Creek, where Malcolm's boat was lying. At this time Malcolm had a
boat-hook over his shoulder, to which was suspended a basket of
potatoes, which he had obtained from Davis, and the party was again
crossing Captain Moir's premises, Malcolm being about seven yards in
advance, when the captain and his servant were seen riding furiously
towards them. The former exclaimed that he thought he had ordered them
not to trespass upon his lands; and Malcolm answered that he would go,
or that he might go and be d--d, the precise observation not having been
distinctly heard; and then Captain Moir suddenly presenting a pistol,
discharged it at him. Malcolm exclaimed, that his arm was broken, and
dropped his boat-hook; and the captain threatened his companions, to
serve them in the same manner, if they did not instantly retire.
Malcolm was soon afterwards carried back to Davis' cottage, where he was
attended by Mr. Dodd, a surgeon, at the direction of Captain Moir, and
was found to be in a position of so great danger as to render his
immediate removal necessary. The poor man was subsequently attacked with
lock-jaw, and died after the lapse of two or three days. A conversation
took place between Captain Moir and Mr. Dodd upon the subject, upon the
day of the occurrence, when the former justified his conduct, declared
that his land was his castle, and that he would do the same again on the
next day, under similar circumstances.
A coroner's inquest having been held upon the body of the deceased
fisherman, a verdict of Wilful Murder was returned, and Captain Moir was
committed to Chelmsford jail, to take his trial at the ensuing assizes.
The case came on for investigation at Chelmsford before Lord Tenterden,
on Friday the 30th July, when every exertion was used on behalf of the
accused, but to no purpose, and a verdict of Guilty was returned upon
the capital charge. The prisoner urged the absence of all malice on his
part towards the deceased, and alleged that he had been compelled to
retain loaded pistols constantly in his house, in consequence of the
desperate characters by which his neighbourhood was surrounded. All,
however, was of no avail, and sentence of death was passed in the usual
terms.
After his conviction, a strong and urgent appeal was made on his behalf
to the government, founded upon the suggestion that there was little
doubt that the act on the part of the unhappy man had been dictated by
insanity. It was declared, however, that it was too late to hope for
mercy upon any such grounds, which ought to have been made the subject
of inquiry at the trial, where, had they proved well founded, they would
have relieved the prisoner from all criminal responsibility. To this
answer the obstinacy of the unfortunate gentleman, who refused to offer
any extenuating circumstances in his own favour to the jury, which
should subject him to perpetual imprisonment, was replied, but all was
of no avail, and the sentence of the law was directed to take its
course.
In the mean time, the wretched prisoner, unconscious of the measures
which were taken by his friends with a view to secure his safety,
diligently applied himself to the only duty remaining for him to perform
on earth,--that of making his peace with the Almighty. He attended
divine service in the chapel of the jail on Sunday, and was afterwards
visited by his wife, then only twenty-eight years of age, his mother,
his sister, and some friends, of whom he took a most affectionate
farewell. At about seven o'clock on Monday morning he received the
sacrament, and expressed himself perfectly resigned to his fate,
declaring at the same moment, that he had not the smallest degree of
animosity against the ill-fated man whose death he had caused, and whom
he had had no intention to kill. Throughout the dreadful concluding
scene of his life, he conducted himself in the calmest manner. He
ascended the scaffold, declaring that he was at peace with all mankind,
and repeatedly denied that he had had any feeling of unkindness towards
Malcolm. At nine o'clock, the fatal bolt was drawn, and the ill-fated
gentleman died instantaneously. His body was subsequently delivered over
to the surgeons for dissection; but after such an anatomical process as
was sufficient to fulfil the terms of the sentence, it was humanely sent
to his disconsolate widow for interment.
Captain Moir at the time of his execution, which it will be seen took
place on the 2nd of August, 1830, was only thirty-six years of age. He
was a remarkably fine man, and stood upwards of six feet in height. He
was brother-in-law to Sir James G. Baird (a near relative to the gallant
Sir David Baird), and was first-cousin to Sir William Rae, at the time
of his execution the Lord Advocate for Scotland. He was descended on his
grandmother's side from the heroic Bruce, and was also connected with
the distinguished families of Blair of Blair, the Stewarts, and the
Butes.
The unfortunate man who was the victim of his crime was of the same age
with himself, and left a wife and six children. He had long been known
upon the Essex coast as a fisherman, and had frequented the spot for
several years where he unfortunately met his death.
JOHN SMITH, _alias_ WILLIAM SAPWELL.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF A POLICEMAN.
The cold-blooded and atrocious murder of which this man was convicted,
showed him to merit most fully the awful punishment which befel him.
The object of the dreadful crime of which he was guilty, was a constable
of the G division of the Metropolitan Police Force, then only recently
established in London and its vicinity; and in laying before our readers
the circumstances of this case, it will not perhaps be considered out of
place if we shortly recite the manner in which that most admirable body
was first called into existence and operation.
The necessity of some improvement in the police of the metropolis had
long been felt; and the utter inadequacy of the few Bow-street patrol
hitherto employed to guard the streets of London by day, and of the
watchmen, upon whom the same duty devolved by night, had for a
considerable time attracted the attention of the public and of
parliament. Committees of the House of Commons sat for the purpose of
receiving evidence upon the subject, and a vast number of suggestions
were thrown out upon the subject of the proper measures which should be
taken with a view to obviate the existing difficulty. Statements were
published in many of the newspapers, in which the faults of the system
were pointed out, and partial remedies suggested; but it was universally
felt that no amendment of the plan then in operation could be sufficient
to secure the object in view, and that a general and complete alteration
and re-organisation of the whole police of the metropolis was
requisite. A plan of this description was long and ably advocated in a
weekly journal of large sale (Bell's Life in London), the Editor of
which had turned a great portion of his attention to a subject so nearly
connected with the most minute interests of the community. A series of
articles appeared in that newspaper, upon which there can be no doubt
that the new police system, now so deservedly popular for its competency
and for its admirable effects in securing our common safety, was
founded. Mr. Peel, at that time Secretary of State for the Home
Department, in the session of parliament of the year 1829, introduced a
bill to the House of Commons, founded upon principles directly in
consonance with those supported in the journal in question--principles
which were eventually adopted with the almost unanimous consent of the
legislature. The general scheme which was put forth as being most
desirable to be carried into effect, was that of making a police
throughout England, the centre and focus of which was to be fixed in
London, while the great towns throughout the kingdom would act as
corresponding agents for the diffusion of that intelligence, the rapid
and regular transmission of which was properly looked upon as so
important to the success of any system of this description. In London,
again, a smaller focus was to be formed under a board of commissioners,
who would have daily communication with every division of the metropolis
in which the police should be established, as well as with those country
districts to which we have already alluded.