The detectives now turned their attention to James Greenacre, and several interesting facts instantly came to light. The people next door said that they had been disturbed on Christmas Eve by the sound of a scuffle in Greenacre's house, and the latter's unexpected removal had caused some talk. Then the tenants who had taken his old house had commented on the smell of brimstone when first looking over it. In their opinion it had been thoroughly fumigated, and this was confirmed by a woman who had seen Mrs. Gale giving the house a most drastic cleaning a few days after Christmas, an unusual devotion to work which had excited remarks.
There was no hurry on the part of the detectives to arrest Greenacre. They believed that he did not know that suspicion had fastened on him. His demeanour was one of unruffled confidence, and the semi-public life he led favoured those whose duty it was to shadow him and rendered it easy for them to carry out their instructions. But Greenacre was fully aware of their designs on his liberty, and with considerable cleverness he nearly succeeded in outwitting them, for the unruffled grocer by day spent his nights preparing for flight, and he was arrested only a few hours before he was on the point of leaving England for America. He had booked his passage, and already some of his luggage was on board the ship, but it was quickly recovered by the police, and a thorough examination was made of his property.
The investigation produced a plentiful crop of clues. Several incriminating articles were found, the principal one being the missing part of the blue cotton frock which had been used to cover the trunk of Hannah Browne's body. In addition to this and other unmistakable evidence, his sudden resolve to leave the country told against him. He was not the man to realize property at a heavy loss and decamp to America without a very strong reason. It was proved that when he had heard of the identification of the body of his victim he had hastily sold his property and his business, binding the purchasers to secrecy so that he might get away unobserved.
Greenacre did not waste time in denying that he was with Hannah Browne on the night she died. He knew that the evidence against him was very strong, and he thought it wiser to concoct a story of an accidental death, due to horseplay—an explanation, which was, of course, instantly rejected. Then he offered another version, which made the woman's death the result of an accidental blow by himself which was never meant to be fatal. This admission gradually led up to the truth, and then the whole story, as told here, was disclosed.
The most remarkable feature of Greenacre's conduct after his arrest was his concern for the woman who had been his mistress as well as his housekeeper. She was the mother of his four-year-old son, but, hitherto, Greenacre had treated neither with especial kindness, and it was her arrest which developed his latent love for her. When he was informed that she, too, had been taken into custody and would be placed in the dock with him to answer the capital charge, he swore that she was entirely innocent. When he was disbelieved he raved and carried on like a madman, expressing his willingness to take all the blame for the crime if the woman was set free; but the authorities were adamant. On no consideration would they agree to release Sarah Gale; the woman was held a prisoner; and when she and Greenacre met again they stood side by side in the dock.
The trial was one-sided, Greenacre's statement concerning the death of Hannah Browne constituting, in reality, a confession. The defence, such as it was, struggled feebly to win the sympathies of the jury. The male prisoner's alleged respectability was dwelt upon by his counsel, who endeavoured to prove that a man of his character and disposition could not have been guilty of such a horrible crime. As Greenacre, however, had admitted that he had dissected and disposed of the body this plea was rejected, for only the most hardened of criminals could have cut a human body up and carted it in sections about London. In the circumstances, he never had a chance of escaping, and the verdict of the jury was everybody's opinion, including that of the presiding judges, Tindal, Coleridge and Coltman.
The woman was found guilty of murder, too, but the law was satisfied with the execution of the actual murderer, and Sarah Gale's punishment was transportation beyond the seas for life. Undoubtedly she took a very prominent part in the crime, and but for her readiness to aid and abet Greenacre the latter would not have murdered the woman who had tried to trick him into marriage and paid for her failure with her life.
James Greenacre was executed publicly on May 2nd, 1837, and a contemporary account of the scene makes it difficult to believe that thirty-one years were to pass before such a spectacle became impossible.
"The Old Bailey and every spot which could command a view of the spot were crowded to excess," wrote an anonymous journalist. "From the hour of twelve on Monday night up to the moment the execution took place, the Old Bailey presented one living mass of human beings. Every house which commanded a view of the spot was filled by well-dressed men and women, who paid from five shillings to ten shillings for a seat. A great number of gentlemen were admitted within the walls of Newgate, by orders of the sheriffs, anxious to witness the last moments of the convict. During the whole of Monday night the area in front of Newgate was a crowded scene of bustle and confusion, and the public-houses and the coffee-shops were never closed. The local officers connected with the watch had plenty of business on their hands in consequence of the thefts that were committed, and the broils and pugilistic encounters of many a nocturnal adventurer. Divers windows were broken and many heads felt the force of a constable's truncheon. The language of the vast multitude was vile in the highest degree, and songs of a libidinous nature were chanted. At one period of the night the mob bid open defiance to the whole posse of watchmen and constables, and not only rescued thieves, but broke the watch-house windows. Vehicles of every description drove up in quick succession. The passengers, seemingly having their curiosity gratified by the gloomy aspect of the walls, retired to make way for another train. Occasionally a carriage full of gentlemen, and, we believe, in some instances accompanied by ladies, mingled for a moment amidst the eager crowd.... All who had procured places in the windows commanding a view of the place of execution made sure of their seats by occupying them several hours before the dismal preparations commenced. There was not at any time of the night less than two thousand persons in the street. Several persons remained all night clinging to the lamp-posts. The occupier of any house that had still a seat undisposed of informed the public of the vacancy by announcing the fact on large placards posted on the walls, and forthwith the rush of competitors was greater than on any former occasion."
Inside the gaol the condemned man was being exhibited to the curiosity-mongers who had sufficient influence with the sheriffs to obtain the right to inspect and torment the convict, and an hour before his death Greenacre was cross-examined by an amateur theologian and caused "great grief" to the company by hinting that Christ was not divine.