Part 89

Allen's evidence was as follows:--"I live at Wilson's Cottage, Pocock's Fields, Islington. I know the cottage in which the deceased lived. I have known the prisoner about twelve months; he has lodged at my house several times, and he came to lodge there seven nights before this occurrence took place. I remember the 16th of March; and at that time, from circumstances that occurred, I am confident that he had no money. On that day the prisoner went out between eight and nine o'clock without having any breakfast. He had on a pair of shoes which I sold him, and they had nails in them. The prisoner wore them constantly. He returned home about three o'clock in the morning, and he immediately went into his room. My wife said to him, 'Richard, is it early, or late?' and he replied, 'It is early.' The prisoner got up between eight and nine o'clock the next morning, and came into my sitting-room, and passed through into the wash-house, which leads to the privy. He staid out from five-and-twenty minutes to half-an-hour, when he returned into the house and went out at the front door. I did not observe anything unusual in his appearance. The prisoner returned home about seven o'clock in the evening, and in the mean time I had heard of the murder of Mr. Templeman, and I told him of it. The prisoner said it was a shocking thing, and he asked me if I considered Mr. Templeman could have done it himself. I said, 'Richard, how can a man bind his own hands and eyes?' The prisoner then appeared agitated, and said his inside was out of order, and he went into the yard, and remained for a few minutes. My attention had been attracted to the prisoner having a new pair of shoes on, and I had a suspicion. I asked him about them, and he said that his cousin had given them to him. He then asked me to get him some bacon and beer for his supper, and I fetched it for him. He gave me a shilling to pay for it. I asked him where he had been so late on the night before. He said he had been at the Rainbow, and had stopped there until twelve o'clock at night, and when he came out he met some friends, who detained him. Before this time I had a piece of wood in my possession, which was about a foot and a half long. The prisoner went to bed about nine o'clock, and I bolted him in and gave information to the police. He accounted to me for the possession of the money by saying that it had been given to him by his relations.

Mrs. Allen's evidence was to the same effect; but she proved in addition, that a stocking in which the money was found concealed belonged to the prisoner.

The evidence otherwise was of a very general description, and although many expressions of a very suspicious character were attributed to the prisoner by the witnesses, none of them amounted to an admission by him of his guilt. The jury, after having received the customary charge from the learned Judge, returned a verdict of acquittal.

During the whole of the time occupied by this investigation, the avenues of the court, as well as the court itself, were crowded to excess by persons anxious to obtain early information as to its result. The verdict of the jury appeared to excite considerable dissatisfaction in the minds of many persons; and so great was the anger exhibited by a great portion of the populace, that the prisoner deemed it prudent to accept an offer of protection which was made to him by the sheriffs, and to remain in the Compter prison until the popular clamour should have in some degree subsided.

While there, a very great degree of commiseration appears to have been unjustly excited in his behalf. Mr. Alderman Pirie, a gentleman for whose humane feelings and intentions every one must give him the highest praise, offered to Gould that he should quit this country, and that he should proceed in a vessel of his own, on the point of sailing to Sydney, to that colony; and the wretched culprit, conscious of his guilt and of the dangerous position in which he stood, at once accepted the offer which was so liberally held out to him. A few days sufficed to show how far the humanity of the worthy alderman was misapplied. A man was committed to the Compter from the Mansion-house, upon a charge of stealing from his employers a quantity of tea, entrusted to him for delivery. His answer to the allegations made against him was unsatisfactory; and in the Compter he was imprisoned in the same ward in which Gould was suffered to remain. Upon his second examination he started a line of defence, which it was thought would afford him a moderate chance of escape. He imputed to two men, that they had met him in the street, and having given him a shilling to go on an errand for them, had run off with his tea. The men whom he pointed out were eventually taken into custody, and they proved to be two of the persons who had given evidence upon Gould's trial, and whose false impeachment this fellow had basely procured for the purpose of revenging himself upon them for their having stated that which was undoubtedly true. The two men were fortunately able satisfactorily to prove that they were elsewhere at the time of the supposed robbery; and the other prisoner was conveyed to Newgate to await his trial.

In the mean time, Gould, exulting in what he then supposed to be the success of his scheme, had been removed on board the Elizabeth, the vessel in which he was to be conveyed to Sydney, and which lay at Gravesend. She was on the point of sailing, when the government, hitherto supine in its exertions to secure the discovery of the perpetrators of this most diabolical murder offered a reward of 200_l._ for their apprehension. An idea was entertained that for the reward Gould would disclose all he knew upon the subject, for that he knew something was obvious, and Otway, a police serjeant, was despatched to communicate with him upon the subject. A long conversation took place, in the course of which the reward was hinted at, and Gould expressed his willingness to open a communication, provided some portion of the booty sufficient to satisfy him for the loss of his passage were guaranteed to him; but on the next day, he was surprised at finding that he had again got into the custody of the police, a warrant having been executed upon him, in which he was charged with being a party to the robbery which had been committed in the house of Mr. Templeman, on the night of the murder.

He was carried to London loudly complaining of the breach of good faith on the part of serjeant Otway, and on being conveyed to Bow-street, he repeatedly expressed his willingness to disclose all he knew upon his being liberated. This condition, however, was refused to be acceded to, and in the hope of obtaining the reward, on the 11th of May he made a statement to the following effect.

He said, that "the robbery of Mr. Templeman's house had been talked over for some time, by himself, Jarvis, and his wife, but it was not finally agreed upon until the morning before that on which it took place. He was then at Jarvis' house but he did no remain long, as Jarvis expected his brother, but before he went away, Jarvis went into the garden and got a piece of wood used as a dibber, and bored a hole in the handle and passed a piece of string through it so as to hang it on his arm. He then went to the Rainbow public-house and got drunk and went to bed at his lodgings. He was to have gone to Jarvis' on the next morning, but he lay in bed so late that Mrs. Jarvis came to fetch him. Jarvis had given her a message how it was to be done, and he (Gould) was not to go near the place until after the public-houses were closed. Mrs. Jarvis told him that she had prepared breakfast and that there was no fear of being noticed, but he went again to the Rainbow, and remained there until twelve o'clock at night. At that hour he went to Jarvis' house, and in a few minutes they went to Mr. Templeman's together, Mrs. Jarvis standing at the door of her own cottage to give an alarm in case of necessity. He (Gould) removed a piece of paper which was pasted over the window, and introducing his hand opened the door, and then he and Jarvis went in. He broke open a box which was in the sitting-room, and found some silver, and Jarvis went into the bed-room. Jarvis now suggested, that as the notes had not been found they must be under the old man's head, and that they might quiet him and fasten him. They had brought a cord with them, and Jarvis directly struck the old man with the dibber. He jumped out of bed as if to resist their attack, but the blows being repeated he was overpowered and his hands tied. They then continued their search for the notes, and they were found in the drawer in the box from which they had taken the silver, but upon their looking at them they found that they were useless, for they were barbers' notes upon 'the bank of fashion.' The deceased by this time had in some degree recovered, and exclaimed 'I know you,' upon which Jarvis declared, that he had rather finish him than be found out, and went into the bed-room. He (Gould) ran out of the house and was presently followed by Jarvis, and they went together to the house of the latter. Mrs. Jarvis was still standing on the look-out. He wanted to divide the money, but Jarvis said 'No, you had better plant (conceal) it, for the cottages here will all be frisked (searched).' He then took the dibber away and threw it into the New River, and he also threw the dark lantern which they had used into a pond in Pocock's Fields. Before he went away he agreed to meet Mrs. Jarvis the next morning at the Three Goats' Heads, Wandsworth-road, and when he quitted them he said that he would then show himself as quickly as he could. He went accordingly to a coffee-shop near the Angel, at Islington, and remained there for an hour and half, and when he returned home it was two o'clock. He went to bed, and on the next morning he placed all the money with the exception of 9_s._ in an old stocking, and put it where it had been found. He then proceeded to the Three Goats' Heads, and soon after he was joined by Mrs. Jarvis, who had her child with her. They went to Lambeth together, and he bought a pair of boots for 7_s._ 6_d._, and he sold his old ones in the New Cut. They subsequently went towards home, Mrs. Jarvis on quitting him desiring him not to go near her cottage that night, as there was a rare 'stink' about it."

The villany and falsehood of this declaration, except as regarded his own guilt, was soon clearly proved, for on the very same day on which it was made it was contradicted by the prisoner, but while as regarded Mr. and Mrs. Jarvis it was distinctly shown to be false, the prisoner had told so much of the truth as to enable the police to trace out so many new proofs as to leave the most conclusive evidence against him.

He had already been acquitted of the murder, and it was impossible that he should be tried upon any fresh indictment upon that charge; but it still remained open to the friends of the deceased to prefer against him a charge of burglary, subjecting him to a penalty of transportation for life. The statement of facts with regard to the dark lantern, and the purchase of the pair of shoes made by the prisoner, was plainly corroborated by investigation; and while he had unsuccessfully endeavoured to procure the new implication of Jarvis in the murder, he had unwittingly afforded evidence that he had himself committed the burglary with which he now stood accused.

Upon this latter charge he was indicted at the sessions of the Central Criminal Court, on the 22nd of June, and the same evidence which had been before adduced having been again brought forward, together with proof of those additional facts admitted in his own confession, he was found "Guilty."

Mr. Baron Parke, in addressing the prisoner, declared that there could be no possible doubt that he had been guilty of the murder of the unhappy deceased, and that he was justly brought to punishment. He sentenced him to be transported for life.

The prisoner, during his confinement in Newgate upon this new charge, made a most desperate attempt to escape, in company with a fellow-prisoner; but their schemes being discovered by the ever-watchful and most excellent governor of the jail, Mr. Cope, and frustrated, he became much impressed with the dreadful situation in which he had placed himself. At his trial he conducted himself with much firmness, cross-examining the witnesses with considerable tact--and subsequently addressing the jury and court upon the case, with boldness and effect; but upon his hearing the verdict of "Guilty," which was returned, he lost his presence of mind, and became deeply agitated. During the period occupied by the learned judge in passing sentence, he recovered his self-possession, and at the conclusion of the address, he skipped away from the bar with great alacrity.

The terms of his sentence of transportation were subsequently carried out; but the prisoner was not removed from this country without having made a fresh effort to secure his escape.

FRANÇOIS BENJAMIN COURVOISIER.

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

For a considerable number of years scarcely any circumstance occurred in the metropolis which created a greater degree of consternation and interest than the tragical event which it now becomes our duty to record. At an early hour on the morning of Wednesday the 6th of May, 1840, Lord William Russell, an aged and most esteemed member of the illustrious house of Bedford, was discovered to have been barbarously murdered in his bed, at his house No. 14, Norfolk-street, Park-lane. The noble deceased was the posthumous child of Francis, Marquis of Tavistock, eldest son of the fourth Duke of Bedford, by Lady Elizabeth Keppel, daughter of the second Earl of Albemarle. He was the third and youngest brother of the two late Dukes of Bedford, and uncle of the existing duke, who was the seventh of the family who had succeeded to the title. He was uncle also to the noble and highly talented Lord John Russell, who at the time of this most melancholy catastrophe held the office of Secretary of State for Colonial Affairs. By his marriage with Lady Charlotte Villiers, eldest daughter of the fourth Earl of Jersey, his lordship had seven children, several of whom were still alive and were married into other noble families; but at the time of his death he was a widower, his wife having died in the year 1806. His lordship having been born in August, 1767, was consequently in the seventy-third year of his age.

Allied as the noble lord was to so many of the families of the nobility, the horrible event of his murder, it may be presumed, created the most extraordinary degree of alarm; and inquiries the most eager and the most scrutinizing were immediately set on foot, with a view to the discovery of the person by whose hand the dreadful deed had been committed. The result of the preliminary investigations which took place, tended to fix strong suspicion upon the valet of the unfortunate nobleman, François Benjamin Courvoisier, which, however, was so little supported by positive evidence, as to leave his guilt of the crime a matter of the greatest doubt, and it was not until the second day of his trial for the murder, that circumstances were discovered, in a manner, which appeared to denote the presence of the hand of the Almighty, by which his conviction was secured.

The first discovery of the murder, as we have already said, took place upon the morning of the 6th of May; but, in order to render what then took place more intelligible, we shall first describe the family of his lordship, and the proceedings of the day preceding this most diabolical outrage. Lord William Russell resided, attended only by his servants, at the house in Norfolk-street, Park-lane. At the age at which he had arrived, it is not to be supposed that he was unaffected by indisposition or weakness; but although he suffered slightly from deafness and bodily infirmity, his health was sufficiently good to enable him to enjoy life with comparative comfort. His family consisted of two female servants; a housemaid, Sarah Mancer, and a cook, Mary Hannell, besides his valet, Courvoisier, and a coachman and groom, all of whom lived in the house, with the exception of the two latter individuals. The house was small, and consisted of only two rooms on a floor. On the basement story were the kitchen, and the usual offices, and a room used by Courvoisier as a pantry. On the ground floor were two parlours, used as dining-rooms; on the first floor were the drawing-room and library; on the second floor were the bed-room and dressing-room of his lordship; and in the story above were the sleeping apartments of the servants. His lordship was a member of Brookes's Club, in St. James's-street, and usually spent a considerable portion of the day there; but he generally dined at home, and then having passed several hours in reading, commonly retired to rest at about twelve o'clock. The valet had been in his lordship's service during a period of five weeks only; and in the course of that time had been heard by his fellow servants to express himself in terms of dislike to his master, whom he described as testy and dissatisfied, and to declare that if he only had his money, he should soon return to Switzerland of which country he was a native. Upon the 5th of May, his lordship rose at nine o'clock, and breakfasted at the usual hour; and at about noon he went out, proposing to go to Brookes's, in accordance with his usual habit. Before he quitted the house, however, he called his valet, and gave him several messages to deliver, amongst which was one to the coachman, to prepare his carriage and to be in readiness to take him home from his club at five o'clock. Upon Courvoisier going into the kitchen after this, he declared his fears that he should forget some of his errands; and in recounting them, he omitted that to the coachman. At half-past five his lordship returned home to dinner, in a cab, and showed some dissatisfaction at the neglect of his servant; but it does not appear that he exhibited any such anger as could well excite a feeling of hatred or ill will. Dinner was served at about seven o'clock; tea and coffee were subsequently handed to his lordship, and at about nine o'clock he retired to his library. At this time, the three house servants only were at home. Some other persons had called in the course of the day, but they had all left; and Courvoisier, Sarah Mancer, and Mary Hannell, only were in the house. Hannell had been out, but upon her return Courvoisier admitted her, and it was observed that he locked and chained the street door after her entrance. Supper was, at about ten o'clock, prepared in the kitchen, and some beer was fetched by Courvoisier; but he quitted the house, and returned by way of the area, and the gate and kitchen door were fastened by Hannell upon his re-admission. The means of access to the house, from the street, therefore, were closed, and the only entrance from the back, on the basement story, was through the pantry.

At about half-past ten, the women-servants went to bed, leaving Courvoisier to attend upon his master, and it was not until half-past twelve o'clock that his lordship rang his bell for him to assist him in retiring to his apartment. It was the custom of his lordship to have his bed warmed, and it was the duty of the valet to perform this duty for him, and then to return the warming-pan to the kitchen. The bed appears to have been warmed as usual on this occasion; but as the subsequent events of this dreadful night remained in mystery until after the discovery of the murder and the conviction of its perpetrator, we shall abstain from describing them at present, in order that they may be laid before our readers in the words which Courvoisier himself employed in recounting them.

On the following morning, at about half-past six o'clock, Sarah Mancer, the housemaid, rose from her bed, and, having dressed herself, quitted her bed-room. As she passed the door of the prisoner's room she knocked, in order to awake him, and then proceeded down-stairs. The first circumstance which she remarked was, that the warming-pan had been left at her master's bed-room door, as if indicating that the valet had gone to rest immediately after having attended upon his master, without subsequently going below; but, upon her proceeding to the lower floors of the house, she found everything in such a state of confusion, as to excite a suspicion in her mind that thieves had entered the house with a view to the commission of a robbery. She hurried through the drawing-room, the parlour, and the passage on the ground-floor, and there she found the furniture strewed about, the drawers and boxes open, a bundle lying on the ground, as if ready packed up to be carried off, while the street-door had been unfastened, and was only upon the latch. A momentary examination of these matters was sufficient to excite alarm in her mind, and, hurrying up-stairs again, she repaired to the cook to inform her of what she had seen, by whose directions she at once proceeded to the apartment of the valet. Ten minutes had scarcely elapsed since she had before knocked at his door, and half-an-hour was ordinarily occupied by him in dressing, but, to her surprise, she now found him dressed and ready to descend. Hastily informing him of what she had witnessed below, he accompanied her down stairs; and, upon his seeing the state in which the lower part of the house appeared to be, he exclaimed, "Oh, God! somebody has robbed us." Mancer now suggested the propriety of their ascertaining whether anything had occurred to his lordship, and they went together to his bedroom.