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.