"Prisoners at the bar, you have been tried by a most attentive and

extremely humane jury; and I may say of them, as I have been frequently

called upon to say before of juries in that box, that nothing but the

most painful feelings of duty, imposed on them under a solemn obligation

to their Maker and the public, could have induced them to pronounce a

verdict against fellow-creatures, which sentenced them to die. That they

have formed a just conclusion--[Here Williams exclaimed, "It is false

evidence!"]--every man of common understanding must allow. I shall not

detain you long by the few observations which I have to make,

considering that your hours are numbered, and that there will be but a

very short time between the present moment and that when you will have

to appear in the presence of your Creator, to answer for the crime which

has this day been proved against you. You have each of you been

committed to jail for nearly a month; and I hope that you have employed

that time in looking back upon the course of your guilty lives--for most

guilty they have been--violating the laws of your country, and harrowing

up the feelings of every relation that may have lost one that was dear

to him. I hope from the time you have been in the jail,

conscience-stricken as you must have been, you have turned your thoughts

to the only source that remained for you--that of diligently seeking

that mercy which you may even yet hope for by sincere repentance, and

ardent and constant prayers to the Almighty. But if you have lost those

precious moments, let me at all events exhort you not to lose another

instant of that short period which the laws of society still leave you.

The inhumanity and cruelty with which you have committed this crime,

have spread a degree of horror through the metropolis, and indeed, I may

say, through the whole country. But deeply as you have injured society,

and perilously violated the laws, those laws, which are always

administered with charity, have provided that in your awful situation

you shall have the most zealous assistance of a pious and excellent

clergyman of the Church of England, or of any other church to which you

may belong; and I hope you will not neglect the solemn warnings and kind

admonitions which you will receive from that quarter. I will not

trespass on you by making any further observations, but now confine

myself to the last painful duty which the law requires of the Court,

viz., to pass the awful and dreadful sentence of the law; and that is,

that you, John Bishop, you Thomas Williams, and you James May, be taken

from this bar to the place from whence you came, and from thence, on

Monday morning next, you be taken to the place of execution, and there

each of you be hanged by the neck till each of you be dead, after which

your bodies are to be given to the surgeons for dissection; and may the

Lord God Almighty, the father of all mercies, have mercy on your

miserable souls."

The prisoners scarcely gave any intimation, by their outward appearance,

of the awful situation in which they were placed. They were immediately

removed from the bar; but before they quitted the court, May exclaimed,

"I am a murdered man;" and Williams leaned over the front of the bar,

and muttering and pointing at some of the witnesses, declared that they

were all murdered men, and that the witnesses would suffer for the false

evidence they had given.

During the period which intervened between the conviction of the

prisoners and the execution of Bishop and Williams (who only underwent

the extreme penalty of the law), the most earnest exhortations were

employed to induce a full confession of their guilt. The Rev. Mr.

Cotton, the ordinary, remained in constant attendance on the prisoners,

and by his exertions evidently produced considerable impression on their

minds. On the nights of Friday and Saturday, two men sat up with each of

the convicts, and the little sleep which they were able to procure was

frequently disturbed.

On Sunday the usual sermon was preached in the jail chapel, and after

that the prisoners Bishop and Williams, being placed in the same cell,

were visited by the ordinary and under sheriffs, to whom they made the

following confessions.

We give these statements as they were delivered by the prisoners, but

serious doubts, even amounting to positive belief, are entertained that

they were not full declarations of the crimes of which the wretched

malefactors had been guilty.

"Newgate, December 4, 1831.

"I, John Bishop, do hereby declare and confess that the boy

supposed to be the Italian boy was a Lincolnshire boy. I and

Williams took him to my house about half-past ten o'clock on

Thursday night, the 3rd of November, from the Bell, in Smithfield.

He walked home with us. Williams promised to give him some work.

Williams went with him from the Bell to the Old Bailey

watering-house, whilst I went to the Fortune-of-War. Williams came

from the Old Bailey watering-house to the Fortune-of-War for me,

leaving the boy standing at the corner of the court by the

watering-house in the Old Bailey. I went directly with Williams to

the boy, and we then walked all three to the Nova Scotia-gardens,

taking a pint of stout at a public-house near Holywell-lane,

Shoreditch, on our way, of which we gave the boy a part; we only

staid just to drink it, and walked on to my house, where we arrived

at about eleven o'clock. My wife and children and Mrs. Williams

were not gone to bed, so we put him in the privy, and told him to

wait there for us. Williams went in and told them to go to bed, and

I remained in the garden. Williams came out directly and we both

walked out of the garden a little way to give time for the family

getting to bed; we returned in about ten minutes or a quarter of an

hour, and listened outside the window to ascertain whether the

family were gone to bed. All was quiet; and we then went to the boy

in the privy, and took him into the house; we lighted a candle, and

gave the boy some bread-and-cheese; and after he had eaten, we gave

him a cup full of rum, with about half a small phial of laudanum in

it. I had bought the rum the same evening in Smithfield, and the

laudanum also in small quantities at different shops. There was no

water or other liquid put into the cup with the rum and laudanum.

The boy drank the contents of the cup directly in two draughts, and

afterwards a little beer. In about ten minutes he fell asleep in

the chair on which he sat, and I removed him from the chair to the

floor and laid him on his side. We then went out and left him

there. We had a quartern of gin and a pint of beer at the Feathers,

near Shoreditch Church, and then went home again, having been away

from the boy about twenty minutes. We found him asleep as we had

left him. We took him directly, asleep and insensible, into the

garden, and tied a cord to his feet, to enable us to pull him up

by; and I then took him in my arms, and let him slide from them

headlong into the well in the garden; whilst Williams held the cord

to prevent the body going altogether too low in the well. He was

nearly wholly in the water, his feet being just above the surface.

Williams fastened the other end of the cord round the paling, to

prevent the body getting beyond our reach. The boy struggled a

little with his arms and legs in the water, and the water bubbled a

minute. We waited till these symptoms were passed, and then went

indoors, and afterwards I think we went out and walked down

Shoreditch to occupy the time; and in three quarters of an hour we

returned, and took him out of the well, by pulling him by the cord

attached to his feet. We undressed him in the paved yard, rolled

his clothes up, and buried them where they were found by the

witness who produced them. We carried the boy into the wash-house,

laid him on the floor, and covered him over with a bag. We left him

there, and went and had some coffee in Old-street-road, and then (a

little before two in the morning of Friday) went back to my house.

We immediately doubled the body up, and put it into a box, which we

corded so that nobody might open it to see what it was, and then

went again and had some more coffee at the same place in the

Old-Street-road, where we staid a little while, and then went home

to bed--both in the same house, and to our own beds, as usual. We

slept till about ten o'clock on Friday morning, when we got up,

took breakfast together with the family, and went both of us to the

Fortune-of-War in Smithfield. We had something to eat and drink

there; and after we had been there about half-an-hour, May came in.

I knew May, but had not seen him for a fortnight before. He had

some rum with me at the bar, Williams remaining in the tap-room.

May and I went to the door. I had a smock frock on, and May asked

where I had bought it? I told him, in Field-lane. He said he wanted

to buy one, and asked me to go with him; I went with him to

Field-lane, where he bought a frock at the corner shop. We then

went into a clothes' shop in West-street to buy a pair of breeches,

but May could not agree about the price; he was rather in liquor,

and sent out for some rum, which we and the woman in the shop drank

together. May said he would treat her, because he had given her a

good deal of trouble for nothing. We then returned to the

Fortune-of-War, and joined Williams, and had something more to

drink; we waited there a short time, and then Williams and I went

to the West-end of the town, leaving May at the Fortune-of-War.

Williams and I went to Mr. Tuson's, in Windmill-street, where I saw

Mr. Tuson, and offered to sell him a subject, meaning the boy we

had left at home. He said he had waited so long for a subject which

I had before undertaken to procure him, that he had been obliged to

buy one the day before. We went from thence to Mr. Carpue's in

Dean-street, and offered it to him in the lecture-room with other

gentlemen. They asked me if it was fresh; I told them, 'Yes,' and

they told me to wait. I asked them ten guineas; and after waiting a

little, a gentleman there said they would give eight guineas, which

I agreed to take, and engaged to carry it there the next morning at

ten o'clock. I and Williams then returned to the Fortune-of-War; we

found May in the tap-room; this was about a quarter before four

o'clock in the afternoon; we had something to drink again, and I

called May out to the outside of the house, and asked what was the

best price given for 'things?' He said he had sold two the day

before for ten guineas each, I think. I told him I had a subject;

he asked what sort of one; I said, a boy about fourteen years old,

and that I had been offered eight guineas for it. He said, if it

was his, he would not take it; he could take it where he sold his

for more. I told him all he could get above nine guineas he might

have for himself, and we agreed to go presently and get a coach. I

and May then went to the bar and had something more to drink, and

then, leaving Williams at the Fortune-of-War, we went and tried to

hire a cab in the Old Bailey. The cabman was at tea at the

watering-house, and we went in and spoke to him about a fare, and

had tea also there ourselves. Whilst we were at tea, the cabman

went away, and we found him gone from the stand when we came out.

We then went to Bridge-street, Blackfriars, and asked a coachman

whether he would take such a fare as we wanted; he refused, and we

then went to Farringdon-street, where we engaged a yellow chariot.

I and May got in, drove to the Fortune-of-War, and (Williams having

joined us at the George, in the Old Bailey) we then drank something

again; and then, at about six o'clock, we all three went in the

chariot to Nova Scotia-gardens. We went into the wash-house, where

I uncorded the box and showed the body to May. He asked, 'How are

the teeth?' I said I had not looked at them. Williams went and

fetched a brad-awl from the house, and May took it and forced the

teeth out. It is a constant practice to take the teeth out first;

because, if the body be lost, the teeth are saved. After the teeth

were taken out, we put the body in a bag and took it to the

chariot. May and I carried the body, and Williams got first into

the coach, and then assisted in pulling the body in. We all then

drove off to Guy's Hospital, where we saw Mr. Davis, and offered to

sell the body to him. He refused, saying that he bought two the day

before of May. I asked him to let us leave it there until the next

morning; he consented, and we put it into a little room, the door

of which Mr. Davis locked. Williams was during this left in the

chariot. I told Mr. Davis not to let the subject go to anybody

unless I was there, for it belonged to me; and May also told him

not to let it go unless he was present, or else he should be money

out of pocket. I understood this to mean the money paid by May for

our tea at the Old Bailey (about 4_s._), and the coach-fair, which

we had agreed with the coachman should be 10_s._ May had no other

interest in, or right to the money to be obtained for the body,

except for such payments, and for what he could get above nine

guineas, as I had promised him. May paid the coachman 10_s._ on our

leaving the hospital; but, before we discharged the coach, May and

I ran to Mr. Appleton, at Mr. Grainger's school, leaving Williams

with the coach. We offered the subject to Mr. Appleton, but he

declined to buy it; and then May and I joined Williams, discharged

the coach, and went to a public-house close by to have something to

drink. After this we got into a coach in the Borough, and drove

again to the Fortune-of-War, where we had something more to drink:

this was about eight o'clock in the evening. We all three staid

there about an hour, and then went out, got a coach in Smithfield,

and went towards Old-street-road--stopped in Golden-lane with the

coach, and drank something, and then on to Old-street. At the

corner of Union-street--the Star corner--May got out of the coach

and said he was going home, and I and Williams drove to the corner

of Old-street and Kingsland-road, where we got out and paid the

coach-fare out of the money lent us by May, he having advanced each

of us 3_s._ We then walked home, and went to bed that night as

usual. We had agreed with May, on his leaving us, to meet him at

Guy's Hospital at nine o'clock the next morning (Saturday). I and

Williams went at eight o'clock on Saturday morning to the

Fortune-of-War, where we met Shields, the porter, and engaged with

him to go with us over the water to carry a subject. I wished him

to go to Bartholomew's Hospital for a hamper I had seen there; but

he refused, and I fetched it myself. We had a pint of beer, and I,

and Williams, and Shields, went to Guy's Hospital, Shields carrying

the hamper. We met May there. Williams and Shields went to a

public-house, whilst I and May went to Mr. Appleton and offered him

the subject again. He again refused to buy it, saying he did not

want it. May and I then joined Shields and Williams, and had some

drink, and then left them again; crossed the water in a boat to the

King's College, where we inquired of Mr. Hill, the porter, whether

he wanted a subject? He said he was not particularly in want, but

would speak to Mr. Partridge, the demonstrator. Mr. Partridge came,

and asked what the subject was? May said, 'A male subject.' Mr.

Partridge asked the price. May said twelve guineas. Mr. Partridge

said he could not give so much, and went away. Mr. Hill asked us to

stay a few minutes while he went after Mr. Partridge, to speak to

him again. Hill returned, and said Mr. Partridge would give nine

guineas. May said, 'he would be d--d if it should go in under ten

guineas.' He was in liquor, and, on his moving a little way off, I

took the opportunity of saying to Hill that it should come in at

nine guineas. I told May directly after, that I had sold it for

nine guineas, and that I would out of it pay him what I had of him,

and give him something besides. We then got into a cabriolet, and

went back to Williams and Shields at the public-house, where all

four of us had some beefsteaks and beer; and afterwards we went to

Guy's Hospital, packed the body in the hamper, and put it on

Shields' head, telling him to take it to the King's College, where

we went, Williams and Shields walking, and I and May riding part of

the way in a cab. On reaching the King's College, we carried the

body into the theatre, and then into a little room, where we took

the body out. Mr. Hill looked at it, and asked what it died of? May

answered he did not know, and it did not concern him. Mr. Hill

asked us how a cut which was on the forehead came? I answered, that

it was done by May throwing the body out of the sack on the stones,

which was the truth. Hill told us to remain in the other room, and

he would bring us the money. We went into the other room, and

waited for some time, when Mr. Partridge came to us and showed me a

50_l._ note, and said he must go and get it changed, as he had not

sufficient money without, and he pulled out his purse and counted

three or four sovereigns. I said he might let us have that, and

give us the remainder on Monday; but he said, 'No--he would rather

pay it altogether,' and went away. We waited some time, when the

police-officers came and took us into custody.

(_Signed_) "JOHN BISHOP.

"_Witness_, ROBERT ELLIS, Under-Sheriff."

The Chronicles of Crime or The New Newgate Calendar. v. 2/2 being a series of memoirs and anecdotes of notorious characters who have outraged the laws of Great Britain from the earliest period to 1841 · 第 41 / 90 段