Holloway took his wife from her lodgings, they went straight to the
house, No. 11, Donkey-row, which he had hired expressly for the
commission of the murder; and to which he had, just before, taken her
things. On Holloway opening the street-door, his wife first entered, and
was going up stairs (which were immediately opposite to, and very near
the door), when he called out to her to stop a moment, on which she sat
down upon one of the stairs a little way up. She was in this situation
when, without fastening the door, he approached her, as though he was
going to kiss her, and, suddenly tying a cord about her neck, threw
himself upon her body, and exerted all his force to strangle her. The
poor creature, in resisting, fell to the bottom of the stairs, where she
continued struggling; Holloway, with an end of the cord in each hand,
stretching it, with fiend-like energy, to extinguish life. Feeling
unequal to, or wishing to make a quicker work of the murderous task, he
demanded aid. It was then that the resistance of the victim was speedily
overcome, and her destruction, together with that of the infant in her
womb, was effectually accomplished!
The only blood which came from the deceased before her death, was from
her nose; it fell upon the stairs, and Holloway scraped part of it away
with a knife.
After having committed the murder, the next question was, what was to be
done with the body? Holloway's first idea was, to cut it up at once, and
then remove it piecemeal. This design was, however, postponed, to allow
the blood to congeal! He then dragged the body by the cord, with which
he had effected the strangulation, to a closet beneath the stairs, where
he hung it on a nail for the night. [The high constable subsequently
examined the closet, and discovered the nail and several stains of
blood.] And the clothes of the deceased--which had been sorted before
her arrival, the articles fit for the pawnbroker's shop being separated
from those which were not--were carried home, the same evening, to his
lodgings.
The next day Holloway went to the house, and, having taken down the body
and laid it on the floor, cut off the head (the blood appearing like a
jelly), then the legs, and afterwards (for the convenience of packing
the trunk in the box) the arms and thighs. He then emptied the chaff out
of the ticking, and put the head, arms, and legs, into it, so that it
formed a bag. It was then arranged that he should go first with his bag
to the privy in Margaret-street, Kennard following, to see if any blood
oozed out. The first attempt, he said, failed. They returned to
Donkey-row, and put the head and limbs into a small box, and then into
the ticking, and he carried them away, Kennard following him.
Holloway said, that when he took away the box containing the trunk and
thighs on the Saturday night, Kennard followed the barrow with a
pick-axe and shovel, done up as a parcel, under her arm. On reaching the
Hare and Hounds, they turned to the left, leading to New England Farm,
and went across the field to the copse, on arriving at which it was so
dark that he could not see to dig the grave; so that they hid the box,
and the pick-axe and shovel, in the bushes, and returned home with the
empty barrow. By daylight on the following morning (the Sabbath day!)
they were again at the spot. He had great difficulty in penetrating the
earth, by reason of the roots of trees, which spread beneath the surface
in all directions. Time rapidly advanced, and he had made but little
progress. After an hour's labour, he had not dug a hole half large
enough to admit the box. He threw down the implements in despair,
uncorded the box, took out the body and the thighs, and deposited them
in the ground the best way he could. He broke the box into pieces,
concealing them in different places near the spot; and, with Kennard,
got back to his lodgings before anybody was stirring.
Holloway, while making his confession, was frequently interrupted by
Kennard. Whenever he introduced her name at critical periods of the
dreadful tale, she threw herself into paroxyms of rage, and loaded him
with execrations. "The Devil's at your elbow;" "The Devil's in your
eyes;" were expressions which she frequently used. Her violence did not
incense Holloway, who looked upon her only with an eye of pity. There
was a seriousness of manner and of tone in the man, which, united with
the fearful import of his language, inspired those present (Kennard
alone excepted) with feelings bordering on awe. It was a scene in real
life, compared with which, the most finished dramatic exhibition would
sink into insipidity.
During the subsequent period of his confinement, previously to his
trial, Holloway conducted himself in jail with a degree of hardihood and
even ferocity, which was surprising, after the confessions which he had
made. He endeavoured to excite some of his fellow-prisoners to murder
the governor of the jail, in order that they might effect their escape,
and otherwise behaved in a most outrageous manner.
At his trial, which took place at Lewes, on Wednesday, the 14th of
December, 1831, he was even more remarkable for the brutality of his
demeanour, than he had been during his imprisonment. Upon his being
arraigned, his manner was such as to be fully in accordance with the
atrocious nature of his crime. The court was excessively crowded, and
upon the names of the prisoners being called by the Clerk of the
Arraigns, a thrill of horror ran through the assembled crowd, which was
audibly expressed, in a murmur which gave much solemnity to the scene.
Kennard, upon her name being called, burst into tears and fainted; but
Holloway stood boldly forward, and seemed to beard the court with a look
of defiance.
Upon the indictment being read, Holloway appeared confounded by the
verbose and technical forms of expression. He at length exclaimed, "Read
all that again, I don't understand a word of it."
The indictment was again read. At another point he exclaimed, with
evident surprise, "What! does that mean me?"
On the prisoner being asked whether he was "Guilty?" he fiercely
exclaimed, "I am not guilty of all that that paper charges me with."
By the Court: Do you plead "Guilty," or "Not guilty?"
Holloway (with the utmost ferocity): "By the laws of my country I am not
guilty till you can prove me so."
By the Court: Well, you plead "Not guilty." Remove the prisoners from
the bar.
The female Kennard was almost lifted from the bar. She seemed unable to
stand. Holloway again looked ferociously round the court, and retired
with a firm bold step.
Upon the prisoners being again brought up, their demeanour was scarcely
altered. Mr. Justice Patteson presided on the bench.
Mr. Long and Mr. Dowling conducted the case for the prosecution, and the
trial then proceeded. The whole of the evidence having been gone
through, the learned judge expressed an opinion, that the female
prisoner was not sufficiently affected to be liable as a principal, and
she was directed to be acquitted, and the confession of Holloway was
then put in and read, in the following terms. Such portions of it as
affected Kennard could not, of course, be received as evidence against
her:--
"Anne Kennard knew nothing of this circumstance going to happen until I
had got the whole of Celia's clothes in that house. I went home and had
her down to the house, and then I acquainted her with what I was going
to do; she said I had better not do it for fear of being discovered; I
told her I would trust to that if she would assist me; she said 'Yes,
she would,' and then, as I had got the clothes, we knew not at first
hardly how to dispose of them. I said we would pledge some and burn what
would not pledge, and we immediately lotted out what would pledge, and
Kennard took them, and I believe pledged them, and I then went and
fetched Celia. Celia came with me to the south end of North Steyne-row;
I left Celia there, and told her to wait till I came for her, or called
her. I went into this house in North Steyne-row. I told Anne she was
just by there, and it was agreed that she should conceal herself in the
cupboard. She did conceal herself in the cupboard; I then went and
called Celia; when she was in the house I shut the door; I told her I
wanted to wait a little while, because my partner lived up stairs, and
he was in bed, and I must wait until he got up; and with that pretence I
kept her in conversation for some time, and at last I asked her to sit
down on the stairs, and then, on a pretence of kissing her, I passed a
line round her neck and strangled her. As soon as I passed the line
round her neck, I found it was rather more than I could manage myself,
and I called Anne, and God knows she assisted me, by taking hold of each
end of the rope with me, and she held the rope with me until the poor
girl dropped, and then I held the cord for a time myself; and Anne made
use of this expression--'Do not let your heart fail you.' When I thought
she was dead, or nearly dead, I dragged her into a cupboard or coal-hole
under the stairs, and under the stairs there is some nails. I did not
remove the cord, but took an over-handed knot, and I made the ends fast
to the nails, so that she was then hanging by the neck; I proposed then
cutting her. Anne Kennard told me to wait until the blood was settled;
then, I believe, the next thing we did was to burn the things, the
bonnets particularly; the people who went into the house after we left
must have seen the wire in the grate, which I took notice of being
there, either that or the next night, I cannot call to mind which, that
we proceeded to cut the body. I emptied the chaff out of the bed, to
have the tick to carry part of the body away in, and then I cut off the
head first, and I think the arms I carried with the head. Anne Kennard
was present; I never went to the house to do anything with the body, but
what I took Anne Kennard with me, and the day that I brought the head
and the other part away, she was to walk behind me to see if any blood
came through; the first attempt we made would not answer, because the
blood came through the tick. Anne told me of it, and we went back and
put it into a little box, and then into the tick; that night after dark
Anne came down with me, and we brought a small tub with us; I went and
got a light, and then some water in the tub, and after we had placed the
body in the box, Anne washed the kitchen to clear it of the blood, and
the next day I borrowed a wheel-barrow, and took it down to the house,
and then I borrowed a pick and shovel, and that night Anne and me went
down to the house, and we took the box the body was in (I did) on the
wheel-barrow. I wheeled the barrow, and Anne Kennard was to follow me
with a pick and shovel. She did not know where I was going to. She kept
at a small distance from me until we got near the Hare and Hounds. We
turned up the hill and then down the footpath, that leads to where the
body was found. I made an attempt to dig a hole that night, but I found
it too dark; we just put the box under some bushes near the spot, and
also the pick-axe and shovel; Anne Kennard was with me all the time. We
then took the wheelbarrow home. We went down again in the morning as
soon as it was light, and I dug a hole with an intent to bury the box
and all; but I found that would take up too much of my time, because of
the roots of the trees. I took the body out, and threw it into the hole.
I healed the body up, and then broke the box up, and hid away the pick
and shovel, and Anne Kennard and me went and fetched them away the next
night; I had been round once since the body had been buried, to see if
everything was right, and I sent Anne Kennard twice, and she told me she
went; I think the people where we lodged must well remember she went
away with me when I went away with the wheel-barrow. She did not go the
same road as I did; she went one road, and I went another; and I think
the people must remember Anne went out early the next morning; we both
went out early, but returned early, before the people, Leavers, were up.
A man of the name of Watts, in North Steyne-row, must remember Anne
Kennard being there several times with me, and one time in particular,
when we were going away, and Anne had then got a bundle of some kind to
take away from the house; and a woman that was talking to either Master
Watts or his wife abused me very much, told me that was not my wife that
I was with, and said that she had got a bundle then to pawn (meaning the
bundle she had got with her). I forget the person's name that I spoke
of, but her husband is a bricklayer. I declare I do not disclose this
out of any envy or malice, and I have done the best I could ever since I
have been confined to conceal it, but I find it impossible; I simply do
it to convince the world at large who are the guilty and who are the
innocent. I likewise declare before God and you, gentlemen, that I feel,
if it was my own father, it is out of my own power to conceal it.
(Signed)
"JOHN WILLIAM HOLLOWAY.
"Saturday, Sept. 3, 1831."
The reading of this confession produced a terrific impression in the
court; and the prisoner, notwithstanding his efforts to appear
undisturbed, was evidently labouring under extreme mental excitement.
Upon his being called upon for his defence, he declared that he had no
wish to screen himself from the punishment of death, which he knew
awaited him; but he urged that cases had occurred where, although the
evidence had been more conclusive than in this, the persons charged had
escaped.
The jury immediately returned a verdict of "Guilty," and the learned
judge sentenced the prisoner to be executed on the following Friday, and
directed his body to be given up to be anatomised. During the passing of
the sentence the wretched man endeavoured again to assume a firm
demeanour, but his manner was embarrassed; the blood forsook his cheeks;
and although at the conclusion of the address of the learned judge he
pronounced the word "Amen" pretty firmly, he was evidently sensibly
affected.
On his return to his cell, he threw himself on his bed in an agony of
pain; and his cries for pardon from the Almighty, and his petitions that
he might be saved from everlasting damnation, were distinctly audible
through the prison-yard. On the following day he was visited by a
gentleman named Nate, who had formerly been his employer, and to whom he
re-asserted the truth of the confession which he had made. He also
stated that he had seduced several women, whom he had forsaken; and that
he had attempted to violate two others. His account of one of these
attempts was as follows:--He had induced her to promise to accompany him
in an excursion out to sea. "She was true to her appointment," he said.
"The morning was foggy, but I took the boat right out, and I kept
pulling as hard as I could long after we had lost sight of the shore.
She became alarmed at last; and on my attempting to take advantage of
her, I found out my mistake, for she told me boldly that before she
would comply with my wishes she would leap overboard. Her determined
spirit so confounded me, that I could not look her in the face, and I
rowed her back and took leave of her."
On Friday morning he continued his devotions till nine o'clock, when he
adverted, for the last time, to his _forced_ marriage, and railed
against the overseers of the parish of Ardingly. He had written, he
said, an account of the whole affair, which he hoped would be a warning
to overseers not to destroy the happiness of young persons as they had
done his.
At twelve o'clock he mounted the scaffold with a firm step. There was a
strong expression of disgust among the spectators. He fell on his knees
and prayed for a short time, after which the rope was placed round his
neck, and the cap drawn over his eyes. He then advanced to the front of
the scaffold, and in a firm voice spoke as follows:--
"Now, my dear friends, I need not tell you that sin has brought me to
this untimely end. As sin has brought me to this untimely end, I would
entreat you to be aware that there is not one among you who, if he
follows a life of sin and folly, may not be brought to the same
condition: for when you trifle with sin, you know not where it will end.
I know I suffer justly: I have spilt innocent blood; but, however deep
my guilt, I hope in the mercy of that God who has said to the penitent,
all your sins and blasphemies shall be forgiven you. Therefore turn from
your sins, and the Lord will forgive you. After such a warning as this
you now witness, you will have none to blame but yourselves if any of
you should be overtaken in sin, and follow courses which lead to certain
destruction. Consider seriously what I say, for in a short time the eye
that now sees you will see you no more, and in a few years you will be
in eternity. May the Lord bless you and keep you from sin, by which I am
brought to this dreadful end; and may God Almighty, through the Lord
Jesus Christ, receive my spirit!"
After he had finished his speech, he retired back on the platform, and
the drop fell. The struggles of the culprit continued for some minutes.
At one o'clock the body was cut down, and having been placed in an
oblong box, was delivered to a young surgeon connected with Brighton
Infirmary, to which place it was instantly conveyed; where a public
exhibition of the body of the murderer afterwards took place.
Holloway at the time of his execution was only 26 years of age, and was
a remarkably small man, scarcely reaching five feet in height. Among his
confessions in jail, was one also that he had robbed a man of his watch
in a barn some years before; and that he had been tried for the robbery,
but acquitted.
His execution took place on Friday, the 16th of December 1831.
The woman Kennard was at the following assizes tried as an accessory to
the murder of Mrs. Holloway, the previous determination of her case
having been prevented by her being confined with a child, the offspring
of her guilty paramour; but after a long and patient inquiry, a verdict
of Not Guilty was returned.
JOHN BISHOP, AND THOMAS WILLIAMS.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF AN ITALIAN BOY.
The universal horror which had been produced by the dreadful disclosures
which were the result of the case of Burke and Hare, had not yet
subsided when the atrocious crimes of these monsters were discovered and
brought to light. Frequent mysterious disappearances of persons in a
humble sphere of life are alleged to have taken place previously to this
melancholy proof of the continuance of the system shown to have been
carried on by Burke and his associates; and the police were on the
watch, anxiously waiting for any clue which might lead to the discovery
of the causes of these events, or which might tend to exhibit the
existence of the practices in London which were so much apprehended. The
opportunity which they sought was at length given to them in the case of
these miscreants; which, while it afforded positive evidence of the
horrible crimes which had been committed, delivered into their hands the
men who had been their perpetrators.
We have already alluded to the evils of the absence of legislative
provisions for the supply of subjects for dissection to the medical
schools of the large cities through this empire, and it will not be
necessary to enter now at large upon that question. It is, however,
worthy of remark, that although the crimes committed in the Scottish
metropolis were insufficient to awaken the attention of Parliament to
the importance of some enactment in reference to this most distressing
subject, the excitement produced throughout every grade of society by
the discovery of this new blow to the general safety and welfare of
mankind had that effect. A measure which had been before recommended to
Parliament to render the anatomisation of dead bodies legal, and to
regulate the supply of subjects to the medical schools, now received
universal attention; and some objectionable provisions having been
struck out, and replaced by others of a less questionable character, it
received the assent of the legislature.
It was on Saturday, the 5th of November, 1831, that these persons were
apprehended for the crime of which they were subsequently found guilty,
and for which they were executed. They were immediately conveyed to the
station-house of the F division of police, in Covent-garden, and on the
same night were taken in custody before Mr. Minshull, the sitting
magistrate at Bow-street Police-office. Bishop and Williams, however,
were not the only persons then charged; but James May and James Shields
were also in custody, an allegation of suspicion of murder being made
against them all generally. At this period little more than a mere
declaration that they were suspected to have been concerned in the
murder of a boy about fourteen years of age whose body they had offered
for sale at King's College was made, and the prisoners were remanded to
await the result of the inquest which was directed to be held upon the
body of the deceased.
On Tuesday the 8th of November, a coroner's jury sat upon the remains of
the unfortunate boy; the prisoners being in attendance to hear the
evidence adduced, and to give their account of the transaction.