The ensuing morning, about ten, the officers conducted me to Bow-street, where Mr. Justice Graham presided. On being put to the bar, I observed Mr. Bilger, senior, and the perfidious pawnbroker, in waiting; the former viewed me with attention, and seemed immediately convinced of my identity, of which he informed the magistrate. Having then stated the particulars of his charge, against me, (which I need not here repeat,) the pawnbroker produced the fatal ring, stating that he received it from a woman, whom I afterwards acknowledged to be my wife; he also produced a pearl and amethyst broach, set in gold, which he deposed to purchasing from me among some other articles of the like nature. Mr. Bilger swore that he believed the former to be his property, and the working jeweller, who had supplied the three rings for my inspection, swore positively to its being one of them; as to the broach, Mr. Bilger would not positively swear, but fully believed it to be the one he lost. In this, however, he was mistaken; for I have already stated that I kept that broach for my own wear, and it was at this moment in pledge for one pound in the Borough; but I had, a few days previous to my robbing Mr. Bilger, purloined, among other trinkets, from a shop in the city, a broach so exactly similar, that on comparing the two together, I was in doubt which to retain; but the pearls, in Bilger’s, being rather larger, I preferred the latter, and disposed of the other to Turner, as he had truly said. When asked if I had any defence to offer, I merely answered that I was not the person, having never seen Mr. Bilger or his shop in my life. Mr. Graham observed, the case was so clear that he should immediately commit me; but having understood that many jewellers, &c., who had been robbed, were in attendance to identify me, he inquired for them; the officers, however, stated that none were present, except a shopman of Mr. Chandler in Leicester-fields, who had been a considerable sufferer; but on this young man viewing me, he declared I was not the person who had been at his master’s shop; in which, by-the-by, he was egregiously mistaken. The magistrate then committed me for trial, on Mr. Bilger’s charge; and ordered that I should be brought up again on that day se’ennight, (the 8th of February,) in order that the different shopkeepers might have notice to attend. I was now conveyed to Tothill-fields Bridewell, where I continued a week. My first object was to establish a communication with my wife; but I was afraid of suffering her to visit me, lest she might have been detained as an accomplice. She, however, sent her sister to me daily, who brought me every needful requisite for my use and comfort in the prison; and among the rest, a change of apparel of a very different kind from that in which I was apprehended. Having put on these clothes, I sent the others back by the bearer; and the same day, a barber attending, whom I had sent for to shave me, I requested him to cut off my whiskers, and to crop my hair close. He did so, and I now cut so different a figure, that no person could possibly identify me, unless intimately acquainted with my features. Had I been enabled to take these measures before I appeared at Bow-street, it is probable Mr. Bilger would not have ventured to swear to me; but unfortunately they were adopted too late to render me any essential service. When the officers came to the prison, and saw the metamorphose I had undergone, they were, however, highly enraged; charged the turnkeys with gross neglect of duty, and want of vigilance in suffering the means to be admitted, and threatened to represent the circumstances to the magistrate. I laughed heartily at their chagrin, and said all I could to heighten their vexation. On the day appointed, I was brought up for re-examination; but it seemed the tradesmen who were expected, had not thought it worth their while to attend, for none made their appearance. Mr. Graham viewed me with evident surprise, demanding why I was so differently dressed, and what I had done with my whiskers[48]. I answered, that I wore whatever I found most convenient to myself, and as to whiskers, I never had any. His Worship stared at this assertion, and declared, that when he first examined me, I had very large whiskers, and my hair dressed in the fashionable mode. “However,” added he, “I see through your design; but it has been executed too late, and this stratagem will not now serve your turn.” I was then finally committed to Newgate, as the Session was to commence on that day week (the 15th). My unhappy wife was waiting the issue of my examination, in the neighbourhood of the public office, and on learning the result, took coach, and was at the door of Newgate as soon as myself. The officers who escorted me having retired, both my wife and I were very kindly received by the principal turnkey, who instantly recognised us as Mr. and Mrs. Hardy, and expressed his concern at my so soon becoming again an inmate of Newgate. He then ordered me to have a light iron put on; and requesting to know what ward I wished to go into, I chose the same I had before been a member of, and to this room my wife accompanied me. After receiving the compliments of such of the prisoners as were before my fellow-lodgers, (among whom were the two brothers,) all of whom vied with each other in contributing to our accommodation, we partook of some tea; and having been a fortnight separated from my beloved wife, I would not suffer her to quit me until the next morning.
I had now but a few days to prepare for my approaching trial; and though I entertained no hopes of escaping conviction, I determined to employ a counsel; and who so proper (thought I,) as my good friend Mr. Knapp, who had so adroitly brought me off on a late occasion. I, therefore, drew a brief, in which I dwelt strongly on some particular points both of law and fact, and enclosed it, with the customary fee, in a letter to that gentleman, reminding him of my being his client in November session, and trusting he would do all in his power to extricate me from my present embarrassment. Mr. Knapp assured my wife that I might depend on his best exertions, and I now waited with patience for the event. My affectionate partner was unremitting in her attention to me, being never absent but when she had occasion to look into our affairs at home and her sister having undertaken the care of our house till my fate was determined, she slept with me every night, as I had reason to fear I should soon be removed to a place where I could not have this indulgence. It was something singular that my poor friend Bromley, whom I had not seen for two months before, was brought into Newgate the very day after myself, being committed on a capital charge of house-breaking. Being, however, unable to pay the fees required on the master’s side, where I was situated, he was obliged to put up with the common side, as it is termed; but the two yards being contiguous, I had an opportunity of seeing him every day.
On Wednesday the 15th of February, 1809, I was taken down to the sessions-house for trial; and four persons having been successively tried for capital offences, all of whom were convicted, I was next put to the bar, and stood indicted “for feloniously stealing, on the 9th of December, &c., a double-rowed brilliant half-hoop ring, value 16l. 16s.; a diamond ring for hair, value 9l. 9s.; a rose diamond and ruby ring, with serpent-chased shank, value 6l. 6s.; and a pearl and amethyst broach, value 2l. 2s., the goods of Matthias Bilger the elder, and Matthias Bilger the younger, privately in their shop.” The reader will observe that I was here indicted upon a certain act of parliament, which makes it a capital offence to steal “goods, wares, or merchandise, to the value of five shillings, privately in a shop.” My indictment having been read over, I looked round for Mr. Knapp, whom I expected to have found prepared with his brief; but not observing him among the other counsellors, I inquired of the turnkeys near me, who informed me that he was not in court. I then requested of the judge that my trial might be deferred, on account of the absence of my counsel. The court inquiring who was my counsel, I answered, Mr. Knapp; upon which Mr. Gurney, another counsellor, rising from his seat, said, “My lord, I am authorized to plead for Mr. Knapp.” This satisfied me, not doubting but Mr. Gurney had my brief, and would do all in his power; and I suffered the trial to proceed. The indictment having been read as I have before described, to my no small surprise, Mr. Raine, the counsellor who had been retained by my prosecutors, rose, and proceeded to state the case to the jury; in doing which, according to custom, he gave so clear a view of the facts attending my offence, and so artfully and eloquently coloured the whole, that I saw the jury had more than half convicted me already, and would only listen to the subsequent evidence as a requisite matter of form. The counsel concluded his statement with this observation; “If, gentlemen, these facts are clearly proved to you in evidence, (as I persuade myself they will be,) no doubt can remain in your minds as to the verdict you will give.” He then proceeded to examine the witnesses. Mr. Bilger, senior, deposed what the reader is already in possession of, with these additions; that, a few minutes after my quitting the shop, he missed the articles named in the indictment; and that having, on my second visit, received my final instructions for a ring, and the address I have before mentioned, he went himself next day to Curzon-street, and found No. 13 to be an empty house! Mr. Bilger having concluded, and Mr. Gurney not offering to cross-examine him, conformable to the suggestions in my brief, and as I fully expected he would, I was extremely surprised, and was soon afterwards convinced that he had not received any brief at all, or had any grounds to plead upon. I, therefore, requested to ask Mr. Bilger a question, namely, “Why he did not apprehend me on the Tuesday night, on which he swears I came the second time to his shop, after having missed the property on the preceding Friday, and suspected me for it?” Ans. “My lord, he had so much the appearance of a gentleman that I thought I might be mistaken. He was very differently dressed then from what he is now. He wore whiskers, and an eye-glass, and was very nicely powdered[49]. My son went to the door in order to get a constable, but he observed an accomplice.” (What Mr. Bilger meant by this last assertion, or what he would deduce from it, I have no idea.) The next evidence was that of Turner the pawnbroker; and I had in my brief given such hints, that I hoped Mr. Knapp would have effectually put this fellow out of countenance, by making him confess that he had, at his own request, repeatedly bought such things of me. But here Mr. Gurney was still silent, and I saw that it would be useless for me to ask Turner any questions. The working-jeweller was then called to depose to the ring, which he did in the strongest terms. Mr. Gurney barely asked him, if he could undertake to swear that he had not made rings exactly similar for other shops? He replied, that he was positive it was one of the three which he sent to Mr. Bilger on the 9th of December. Next came the scoundrel who took me, George Donaldson, a constable of St. Martin’s parish; who stated that himself and Smith, one of the Bow-street patrole, from information they had received, apprehended me at the Butchers’ Arms in Clare-market, in company with a great many notorious thieves. The evidence for the prosecution being now closed, Mr. Gurney inquired of Mr. Bilger, senior, how many partners he had; who answered none but his son. Then, what other persons were in the shop, (meaning assistants,) besides his son and himself, when he lost his property? Ans. “Only a porter, who was cleaning some plate at the further end of the counter, at some distance from where the prisoner stood.” All that Mr. Gurney, therefore, said or asked, any other person might have said without reference to a brief; and having put these simple questions, or at least put them in a simple and careless manner, Mr. Gurney sat himself down. The last question, indeed, was of a most important nature, and if properly handled, and enforced with becoming spirit, would, I have little doubt, have rendered me the most essential service. To explain my meaning, I must briefly expound a point of law, with which nine readers out of ten may be unacquainted. The Act, under which I was indicted, provides, or is interpreted to mean, that where there are two or more persons employed as shopmen, &c., it is not sufficient for one alone to attend upon the prisoner’s trial; but that every one, if there was a dozen, must personally appear, to swear that he or she did not see or suspect the prisoner to commit the act of robbery; because the law (always favourable to the culprit,) presumes, that if one person out of the whole number is absent, that very person might possibly have suspected the prisoner; and then such suspicion, however slight, if confessed, proves that the robbery was not effected so privately as to come within the meaning of the Act; consequently, there is an end of the capital part of the charge, and the prisoner can only be transported for seven years. The reader will see, in the next Chapter, my reason for being thus particular in this explanation. The judge now summed up the evidence, and what was most extraordinary, I was not even called on for my defence; so much were the court prejudiced against me, from the eloquent opening of the learned counsel, the clear and decisive evidence of the witnesses; and, perhaps, (above all,) from some little private intimation they had received of my real character and past life. However, as I felt that no defence I could make, was likely to prevent my conviction, I was not much concerned on the occasion; and the jury after two minutes’ consideration returned the fatal verdict of “Guilty.” This verdict was no sooner pronounced, than the villain Donaldson, standing up in the witness-box, said, “My lord, I think it my duty to inform the court what I know of the prisoner at the bar. I have been given to understand that he is a very old offender, and that he has been but a few months returned from Botany-Bay!” At this malicious address, there was a general murmur of indignation throughout the whole court; and Mr. Gurney (to do him justice,) rose with much warmth, saying, “Mr. Donaldson, you ought to be ashamed of yourself for having made such a disclosure; you acknowledge you only have this circumstance from hearsay, and had you known it to be true, after the prisoner being capitally convicted, it is most shameful and unmanly conduct of you to mention it.” The malicious rascal was justly confounded at this rebuff, and sneaked away amidst the execrations of the auditors.
After my conviction I was double-ironed, and detained in the dock until the evening, my trial having occupied about two hours; and at eight o’clock, I was escorted to the press-yard, and locked up in one of the condemned cells. My poor wife remained in the ward of the prison, to which I belonged, until she saw me pass by, and I had only time to console her in a few words through the bars of the window, and take leave of her till the morning.
CHAPTER IX.
Account of my Companion and Fellow-sufferer in the condemned Cells.—His unhappy Fate.—I receive Sentence of Death.—Am reprieved, and soon afterwards sent on board the Hulks.—Some Account of those Receptacles of human Misery.
Besides the four men convicted the same day as myself, there were in the cells several others who had been cast for death the preceding session; and, the recorder’s report not having yet been made, they still remained under sentence, ignorant of the fate which awaited them, but they were in expectation of its being decided every succeeding levee-day. It is customary to confine two condemned prisoners in each cell, and I was destined to be the companion of a man named Nicholls, his former bed-fellow having suffered about a week previous to my conviction. On the turnkeys, who attended me, opening the door of his cell, the unhappy man (Nicholls,) was discovered on his knees, with a book in his hand, and evidently a prey to doubt and terror. My conductors apologized for disturbing him, saying, they had only brought him a companion, and hoped he would find consolation in my society. Poor Nicholls answered in broken accents, “My God! I was a little alarmed,—I heard the keys coming,—I thought it was the report.—What?—do you expect it to-night?” The turnkeys replied, that from the lateness of the hour, it was not probable; but begged him to compose himself, and hope for the best. They then re-locked the doors, and left us. This unfortunate person had been convicted of selling forged bank-notes, through the treachery of a man, who, to save himself, had given information, and betrayed him by a signal to the police-officers, at the moment of the negotiation taking place. As he was known to have carried on this illegal and dangerous traffic to a great extent in the town of Birmingham, where he resided, the Bank were determined to make an example of him; particularly as he had obstinately refused to save his own life by disclosing, as he could have done, most important information on the subject, so as to lead to the detection of the fabricators. This being the case of Nicholls, he had no hope of mercy being extended to him; and was consequently in hourly dread of the awful fiat which was to seal his doom, and consign him to a shameful and premature death. On being left alone with him, I forgot for a moment my own situation, and feeling for that of my ill-fated companion, whose case I already knew, I exerted myself to console and sooth him; not by raising in him hopes for which I knew there was no foundation, but by exhorting him to look forward to “another and a better world;” to comfort himself with the reflection that his crime, (though punished with death on account of its injurious tendency in a commercial country,) was not in a moral sense, or in the eye of God, of so black a nature as to preclude him from the hope of mercy at that awful tribunal “before which the judges of this world must themselves be tried.” By these and the like suggestions, I so far succeeded as to compose him pretty much; and having undressed ourselves, we went to bed. He then requested me to read a few chapters to him, and earnestly asked my opinion on some particular passages in the New Testament, which applied to his situation, and of the real meaning of which he anxiously wished to be resolved. We had read and reasoned on these topics until St. Paul’s clock struck ten, and were on the point of composing ourselves to sleep, that “balm of hurt minds,” when we were alarmed by the rattling of keys, and the sound of voices. I endeavoured to calm the agitation of Mr. Nicholls, by supposing that another unhappy man had been convicted, and was about to be introduced to the cells; but he declared it must be the report, and fell on his knees before the cell-door. The footsteps approaching, our door was slowly unlocked, and the distressing agony of my companion was now indescribable. Mr. Newman, the jailor, entered as quietly as possible, and taking Nicholls by the hand, while he himself was evidently affected, he said, “Mr. Nicholls,—the report has been made, and—(here he would fain have paused,) I am sorry to inform you it has been unfavourable.” Nicholls. “Lord, have mercy on me! God’s will be done! I expected it, Mr. Newman,—it is no more than I expected.—When is it,—to suffer, Mr. Newman?” The latter replied, “on Wednesday next.” Nicholls. “I could have wished, Mr. Newman, for a little longer time,—I’m not prepared to die,—I have some worldly affairs to settle,—but,—God help me!—I hope for more mercy from Him than the gentlemen of the bank have shewn me.” Mr. Newman then assuring him of every attention in his power, commended him to my care, and took a tender leave of us both, promising to see Nicholls again in the morning. The reader will easily perceive I had not the prospect of a very agreeable night before me; my own situation was deplorable enough, but the distress of my unfortunate bed-fellow overpowered every other consideration but that of pity and grief for him. I had now my task to go through again, and to enforce all I repeated with greater energy and stronger assurances. At length, exhausted by contending passions, poor Nicholls fell asleep, and I had then recourse to my philosophy for self-consolation.
The next day, Mr. Newman requested, as a favour, that I would continue to bear the unfortunate Nicholls company during the week he had to live, and in this request the latter also joined; so that I could not without inhumanity refuse to comply, and in this melancholy interval I omitted no opportunity of contributing to his comfort. The night before his execution, I also, by his own desire, sat up with him: a very worthy and devout man, of his acquaintance, accompanied by two other friends, also attended him; and the greater part of the night was passed in reading, exhortation, and singing hymns. Poor Nicholls was, however, in a very low and desponding state, and evidently dreaded the approach of death. About three o’clock he was advised to lie down, and sunk into a slumber from which he did not wake till summoned by the keeper about six to descend to the press-yard, the sheriffs, &c., being shortly expected. I now took a solemn farewell of him, and was removed to another cell. At eight o’clock the doleful sound of the tolling bell announced the awful ceremony, and he was a few minutes afterwards launched into eternity; a woman named Margaret Barrington, for forging and uttering a seaman’s will, suffering with him. The fate of this unhappy man, who was of a most inoffensive and gentle disposition, and left a numerous family to bewail his loss, affected me much.
I had now a new companion assigned me, a young man about my own age, who was convicted the day after myself, under what is called “Lord Ellenborough’s Act.” His crime was shooting at a person who had attempted to apprehend him in the act of robbery; but his pistol flashed in the pan, and no injury whatever had taken place. However, the nature of the offence excluded him also from any hopes of mercy, so that I had the fortune to be placed in a second unpleasant situation, and probably for a number of weeks. As to myself, I had no reason to doubt of being reprieved, very few persons suffering death at that time of day, except for most heinous crimes, or robbery attended with acts of violence. This young man, ’tis true, was a much more tolerable companion than his predecessor; he was always chearful and easy; declaring (although he expected to suffer,) that, as he had never seriously injured man, woman, or child, he was not afraid to die; but rather happy at the prospect of being released from a troublesome world. He had formerly been transported, but made his escape from the hulks; and the miseries he had witnessed and endured onboard those horrid receptacles, he asserted to be such that he preferred death to a reprieve, which might subject him to years of similar suffering.