When, at four o’clock in the afternoon of Thursday, the 14th of July, 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?”