Part 91

Other evidence, by which the stockings were proved to have belonged to the prisoner by his washerwoman, and by which the brown paper in which the parcel was wrapped was proved to have been sent to Lord William Russell, around a framed print of the "Vision of Ezekiel," from the shop of Mr. Molteno, a printseller in Pall Mall, was then produced, and the trial was again adjourned to Saturday.

On that morning, Mr. C. Phillips addressed the jury at very great length on the part of the prisoner, contending with great talent, that the evidence was that of suspicion only; but Chief Justice Tindal having summed up, a verdict of "Guilty" was returned.

The learned judge then proceeded to pass upon the prisoner the sentence of death. He said, that he had been found guilty by an intelligent, patient, and impartial jury of the crime of wilful murder. His guilt had been established beyond the possibility of doubt. The circumstances which surrounded the case were not of an ordinary description. It was ordered by the holiness of God that this crime should not go unpunished; and his power was exemplified in no common manner in the course and progress of the investigation. It was ordained that that which was hid in darkness should be brought to light, and that an offence of the greatest magnitude and the most hateful in the sight of God should not remain concealed. He (the prisoner) had felt no compunction at his conduct; he entertained no regard for the sacred duties which bound a servant to his master; but under his own roof he had committed upon him, aged and unprotected as he was, the awful crime of murder. By this horrid act, domestic and social society received a shock; and in order to prevent the perpetration of such offences by others, it was necessary that the law in this instance should take its course. He could hold out no hope to him in this world, and he earnestly entreated him to prepare to undergo the last sentence of the law. It was necessary that he should receive that punishment, in order that others should take warning, and abstain from a breach of the law. What had inclined him to commit the horrid act did not appear. The love of lucre first induced him to break the law, and that might have led to the commission of this offence. The learned judge again earnestly entreated him to make the best use of his time, and endeavour to make his peace with the Almighty; and his lordship then passed the ordinary sentence of death upon the convict.

Throughout the whole of the three days occupied by this trial, the court was crowded to excess with persons who most anxiously watched every change of evidence affecting the prisoner. Courvoisier during the first day appeared confident, and surveyed the court with much apparent courage and coolness; but upon the following morning, his altered position was clearly exhibited by the anxious expression of his countenance, and the melancholy hopelessness by which his whole conduct seemed to be characterised. On the last day his demeanour even more plainly exhibited how little he expected to escape from the punishment due to his crime; and he received the last sentence pronounced upon him by the learned judge with little apparent feeling.

Upon his being conveyed from the court to the interior of the jail, he made no hesitation in at once admitting to the governor, Mr. Cope, that he had been justly convicted; and he expressed his greatest anxiety, that the female servants should be relieved from all suspicion. He subsequently became sullen and reserved, and seizing an opportunity when the jailer had quitted him for a few moments, he endeavoured to choke himself by cramming a towel down his throat. This attempt was, however, frustrated by the vigilance of the turnkey; and he became more communicative after he had received spiritual consolation from Mr. Carver, the ordinary of the jail, and from M. Baup, the minister of the French church in Threadneedle-street.

On the following day, the wretched man made the annexed confession, in the presence of Mr. Flower, his attorney, and Mr. Cope.

"Newgate, June 22, 1840.

"On the Friday before the murder was committed I began two or three times not to like my place. I did not know what to do; I thought if I gave warning none of my friends would take notice of me again, and I thought by making it appear a kind of robbery he would discharge me; and on the Saturday before I took this plate to Leicester-place. I had a mind to rob the house on Monday, and after I had forced the door down stairs I thought it was not right and went to bed--nothing further happened on the Monday. On Tuesday night, when his lordship went to bed (he had been rather cross with me before about the carriage) he gave me two letters, one for the post, and told me rather angrily, that he was obliged to write those letters in consequence of my forgetting the carriage; this was in the drawing-room, about eleven o'clock at night. I then went down stairs into the kitchen, and stood reading a book for some time. About twelve o'clock he rang the bell. I went up to him and took the lamp out. After that I thought he had gone up stairs to his bedroom; and when he rung his bedroom bell, I thought it was to warm his bed, and I took the warming-pan up with coals in just as usual, and he began to grumble because I did not go up to see what he wanted, instead of taking up the warming-pan. I told him he always used to ring the bell for the warming-pan, and that it was for that purpose he had rung; and he said that I ought always to go and answer the bell first, to see what he wanted. He took off his clothes, and I came down stairs again with the warming-pan, and I waited there until about twenty minutes past twelve. He rang again for me to warm his bed. He told me, rather crossly, that I should take more notice of what I was doing, and what he was telling me, and pay him more attention.

"I did not answer at all, as I was very cross. I went down stairs, and put everything in the state it was found in the morning. As I was in the dining-room with a light, he came down stairs to the water-closet: he had his wax-light. I was in the dining-room, but as he had his slippers on, I did not hear him come down. He opened the dining-room door, and saw me. I could not escape his sight. He was quite struck, and said, 'What are you doing here?--you have no good intentions in doing this; you must quit my service to-morrow morning; and I shall acquaint your friends with it.' I made no answer. He went to the water-closet, and I went out of the dining-room down stairs. He was about ten minutes in the water-closet, and I waited to see what he would do after he came out. While he was in the water-closet I put some of the things to rights again in the dining-room. When he left the water-closet, he went into the dining-room, where he staid about a minute or two. I was on the corner of the stairs that goes from the dining-room to the kitchen. I watched him up stairs. I stopped perhaps an hour in the kitchen, not knowing what I should do. As I was coming up stairs from the kitchen, I thought it was all up with me, my character was gone, and I thought it was the only way I could cover my faults by murdering him. This was the first moment of any idea of the sort entering into my head. I went into the dining-room and took a knife from the side-board. I do not remember whether it was a carving-knife or not. I then went up stairs. I opened his bed-room door and heard him snoring in his sleep; there was a rushlight in his room burning at this time. I went near the bed by the side of the window, and then I murdered him; he just moved his arm a little; he never spoke a word. I took a towel which was on the back of the chair, and wiped my hand and the knife; after that I took his key and opened the Russia leather box, and put it in the state it was found in the morning, and I took all the things that were found down stairs-- the towel I put over his face; I took a purse, I also took a 10_l._ note from a note case, which I put in the purse, and put them in a basket in the back scullery; the day after I thought it would be better to put it behind the skirting board. I had, before I went to Richmond, lost a shilling behind the skirting board, so I thought that would be a good place to put it.

"While at Richmond Lord William's locket dropped from his coat while I was brushing it. I picked it up, and put it in my trowsers pocket, but had not the least idea of taking it. I intended to have returned it to his lordship, while I dressed him in the morning. I put my hand in my pocket at that time, but found I had changed my trowsers; this was on the morning we left Richmond for Camden-hill. I did not put the trowsers on again while we were at Camden-hill. I did not recollect the trousers being different, and thought I had lost the locket. I then thought it best to say nothing about it. On the Friday morning I was looking at some of my old clothes, the policeman who had cut his chin was watching me, and in taking the trousers out of the drawer in the pantry the locket fell out of the pocket; it was wrapped up in a piece of brown paper; the policeman opened the paper and looked at it, and said, 'What's that?' I said to him it was a locket; but in the position in which I was, I did not like to say that it was Lord William's locket, as if I told the truth I should not be believed; the policeman then returned it to me, and I put it in my trousers pocket. The watch and seal were in my jacket pocket, which I had on until the Friday morning; and then I undid the ribbon, and took the seal off; it was the day the sweeps were in the house, which was either the Thursday or Friday; having the watch in my pocket the glass came out; I did not know what to do with it, as the police were watching me, so I took the watch from my pocket, and put it in between the lining of my jacket, and twisted the pocket until I smashed the glass; after that I dropped some of the pieces about the dining-room; and, at different times, put the large pieces in my mouth, and afterwards, having broken them with my teeth, spat them in the fire-place. The watch I had by me until Friday morning. I then burnt the ribbon, and put the watch under the lead in the sink. I kept the seal in my pocket until they came into the dining-room to show me the ring they had found behind the skirting board. When I was called to go down to the pantry, I let the seal fall and put my foot upon it, and afterwards put it behind the water-pipe in the scullery. Beresford and Cronin, and two masons, were there at the time taking the drain up, but did not see me do it. The watch, the seal, and the locket, together with two sovereigns, I had about me until the Friday, and if they had searched me they must have found them; but they did not do so until Friday, after I was taken into custody in my bed-room. The two sovereigns I afterwards (on the Friday, when I slipped the locket under the hearth stone) also slipped down near the wall under the flooring. I had scarcely had any beer all the week, and the ale that I had drunk that night, together with the wine, and some more I took after the cook went to bed, affected me. I turned up my coat and shirt sleeve of my right hand when I committed the murder. I did not use the pillow at all.

"After I had committed the murder I undressed and went to bed as usual. I made the marks on the door on the outside, none of them from the inside, for the purpose of having it believed that thieves had broken in. I never made use of the chisel or the fire-irons. I placed the things about the house to give the appearance of robbery. It is not true that the bottom bolt was never used to secure the door; it was bolted that night. I took the jewellery after I had committed the deed. All the marks on the door were made from the outside on the Monday night, for I got out of the pantry window and broke in at the door, and while getting out of the pantry window made a little mark on the wall outside, near the water-pipe, which the witness Young saw, and mentioned in his evidence. I went to bed about two o'clock. I burned nothing. Sarah Mancer knew nothing about it. Neither did the cook, or any of the other servants. I am the only person who is at all guilty.

"FRANÇOIS BENJAMIN COURVOISIER.

"Witness, THOMAS FLOWE.

"WILLIAM WADHAM COPE. "22nd June, 1840."

On the 23rd of the same month, however, he made a short confession, in which he contradicted the statement of the master having threatened to discharge him, and which was in the following terms:--

"After I had warmed his lordship's bed, I went down stairs and waited about an hour, during which time I placed the different articles as they were found by the police. I afterwards went to the dining-room, and took one of the knives from the side-board. I then entered the bed-room, and found him asleep. I went to the side of the bed, and drew the knife across his throat. He appeared to die instantly."

"Prison of Newgate, June 23.

"This declaration was made before me this 23rd of June, 1840.

"WILLIAM EVANS. Sheriff."

His subsequent admissions tend very materially to show that a considerable portion of his confession, even as amended, was untrue, and the frequent alterations which he made in his statements, leave room for much doubt as to many of the circumstances related by him.

On the 3rd of July he added another document to those which he had already written. It was headed thus:--"François Benjamin Courvoisier gives some account of the short duration of his life, which is to terminate on the 6th day of July, 1840." It was written in French; and the following is a faithful translation from the original:--

"I was born of very pious parents, who have neglected nothing on their part for my education and religious instruction, on the contrary, they have done all in their power; and if I am not so well informed as I should be, it is my own fault. It has been my evil habit to have always had a falsehood in my mouth ready to excuse what I did wrong, or what I omitted to do. I fancied that it was more disgraceful to have a bad memory than to be a liar. At the age of twelve, when I was very religious, I loved God and my parents, I was kind to my sisters, and took pleasure in doing what was good and right before God; but unhappily the schoolmaster did not remain in my village, and his successor was not so religiously disposed. I soon forgot all the good I had been taught, and again became such as I was before. It is true that I was not immoral, but I had no longer those holy inclinations in my heart. I confirmed my baptismal vow at the age of sixteen, and afterwards received for the first time the Holy Communion. I now began to be righteous in the sight of men only, and I thought that this was the highest duty of a Christian, and that if I gave satisfaction to men I did so to God also. My parents had a peculiar affection for me, and placed much confidence in my good conduct; they thought that I was the one in their family who was most anxious to reward the pains they had taken in my youth. I fancied that I loved my parents as myself; but if I had indeed so loved them, I should not have acted as I have done. It is true that I considered myself a good Christian. I cannot say that I often thought of God, for then I should not have sinned as I have done; all who knew me believed that I acted uprightly, and I thought so too. I had already acted unjustly towards Mrs. Fector, at the time of leaving her. I know that I should not have dared to act thus a year before. This proves that I had already begun to forget God, and that Satan had already some power over me. After I left Mrs. Fector, and went to my last unfortunate place, I felt confident in my own strength, and began to say within myself, 'Next year I will do such and such things,' but never did I say, 'If it pleases God.' During the first part of the time I was with Lord William Russell, I was tolerably comfortable until we went to Richmond, when Lord William always appearing dissatisfied, especially towards the latter part of the time, I fancied that I should not be able to remain with him, and having heard the other servants speak of different scenes (towns, villages, country-houses), I began to desire an employment which would enable me to travel through England. I afterwards formed an idea that I should be able to travel on foot from city to city for six months. I then intended to endeavour to procure a place or return to Switzerland. I thought I should be able to make my friends believe that I was in place during these six months. This was the beginning of my misfortunes, for I soon commenced to harbour still worse designs. I thought that I could go to a town, take a lodging, and after remaining five or six days I would depart without payment. I thought that 10_l._ or 12_l._ would suffice for this excursion, and began to seek an opportunity for departure. But this was not enough. I began to premeditate the seizure of what this venerable victim had with him in gold, bank notes, and his watch; but this did not satisfy me. Satan, who knew that he had my heart in his power, began to persuade me that it was not enough only to rob my master, and that if suspicion rested upon me the world would be ready to believe it: and as during the time I was at Camden Hill I read a book containing the history of thieves and murderers, being under the dominion of Satan I read it with pleasure, I did not think that it would be a great sin to place myself among them. On the contrary, I admired their skill and their valour. I was particularly struck with the history of a young man who was born of very respectable parents, and who had spent his property in gaming and debauchery, and afterwards went from place to place stealing all he could. I admired his cunning, instead of feeling horrified at it; and now I reap but too well the fruit of those papers and books which I had too long suffered to supplant devotional works; and this book--yes, this book--was read by me with more attention than the holy Bible. Why so? Because my heart was under the dominion of Satan, and I had forgotten for more than a month to pray to God, or to read his word, and perhaps I had not prayed to this Divine Saviour sincerely and from the bottom of my heart for twelve months. 'Thou honourest me with thy lips while thy heart is far from me, wherefore thou honourest me in vain, and thy words condemn thee instead of justifying thee.' But all I have just said did not satisfy the wicked desires of my heart. I have not been contented with robbing my master, having satisfied the devil, whose slave I was. My master thought me the guardian and the protector of his property. Oh, what a Judas I have been!--of what sins have I not been guilty? If I ask myself what commandment have I transgressed? my conscience tells me, all. Alas, I know well that I have taken Satan as my God; this is contrary to the 1st commandment. 2nd.--I have adored the riches and the pleasures of this world, and I have loved them more than God. 3d.--I have often taken the name of the Lord in vain. 4th.--I have made the day of the Lord my day of pleasure and amusement. 5th.--I have disobeyed my parents. 6th.--I have murdered. 7th.--I have been in company with notorious debauchees. 8th.--I have robbed. 9th.--I have spoken ill of my neighbour. 10th.--I have desired the wealth of others. God says, however, that he who transgresses only one of his commands shall be excluded from the kingdom of heaven. He says that neither hypocrites, nor liars, nor thieves, nor murderers, shall enter the kingdom of God. I am, however, guilty of all these; and the good actions that I have done during my short life will not weigh as much in the balance of the justice of God as the wicked thoughts of my heart. If the transgression of a single commandment causes me to be condemned to death by the hand of man, what do I deserve at the hand of God after having disobeyed all the law, which is the commandment of God? What punishment do I now deserve? If, when I enjoyed a good character in the eyes of men, I was an abomination in the sight of God, what am I now before the Eternal? If I am the greatest of sinners in the eyes of my fellow-creatures, how shall I appear in the eyes of Him who knows all my actions, my words, and my thoughts? Condemnation and eternal sufferings are the portion I deserve."

During the time which intervened between the conviction and the execution of the wretched prisoner, he was once or twice visited by his uncle, a respectable servant in the service of Sir George Beaumont, to whom he made a statement, the substance of which was afterwards reduced to writing, and will be found to be subjoined. His general demeanour was befitting his awful situation, and he received with much attention the pious exhortations of the clergymen, by whom he was attended.

On Saturday the 4th of July, two days before his execution, he addressed his final confession to Mr. Carver and M. Baup. It explains several circumstances upon which the public had hitherto been left in the dark.

"Newgate Prison, July 4th.