| MR. GURNEY’S NEW STEAM-CARRIAGE AS IT APPEARED IN THE REGENT’S PARK ON THURSDAY, DEC. 6, 1827. FROM THE ‘OBSERVER,’ DEC. 9, 1827. |
Mr. Gordon took out a patent for a steam-coach in 1822, and constructed two different machines. One had its wheels surrounded by cogs, or projecting teeth. This engine was to be placed within a large rolling drum, about nine feet in diameter and five feet wide, the inside of which should be fitted with circular rack-rails fitting the wheels of the steam-engine. Thus the motion of the engine would cause the drum to roll forward, on the same principle that a squirrel causes a cylindrical cage to revolve; and the rolling of the drum was to move a carriage connected with it. The other machine had two long propellers or legs, intended to obviate the supposed tendency of wheels to slip when ascending a slope.
The Thames Tunnel, which was begun in 1825 by Mr. Brunel, was on more than one occasion threatened with destruction by irruptions of water. On Jan. 12, 1828, six workmen perished by a sudden rush of water into the workings, and on the 20th the Observer published an engraving representing the catastrophe. On the 9th of June appeared ‘A correct view of Ascot Heath Race Course, taken by an eminent artist on Thursday last.’ This ‘eminent artist’ was William Harvey, and the cut bears the names of Jackson and Smith as the engravers. A sheet containing a selection of comic sketches from Bell’s Life was issued with the Observer of July 20, 1828, accompanied by a statement that the sketches (twenty-seven in number) cost one hundred and forty-two pounds, drawing and engraving. This sounds very trivial when contrasted with the large sums now paid by illustrated newspapers.
In 1827 another exciting murder was committed, and the Observer, undeterred by former censures, published a portrait of the criminal and a view of the scene of his crime, but did not on this occasion deal with the case in the elaborate way in which the murder of Mr. Weare was treated. The story of the Red Barn is well known to provincial playgoers in the Eastern Counties, where it still sometimes figures in theatrical programmes on Saturday nights. William Corder was a farmer’s son residing not far from Ipswich. He had for some time carried on an intrigue with a country girl named Maria Marten, whom he at last enticed into a barn not far from her father’s cottage, and there murdered her, and buried her body under the floor of the barn. After this he continued to visit her father’s cottage, and by various falsehoods accounted for the girl’s continued absence. Months went by, and Corder wrote several letters to the girl’s parents, in which he told plausible stories about her being at the seaside with relatives of his own. The girl’s mother, however, had had her suspicions aroused by several circumstances, and at length she dreamed three times that her daughter had been murdered and her body hid under the floor in the Red Barn. The woman’s mind was so worked upon by the recurrence of this dream that she induced her husband to search under the floor of the barn, and there, sure enough, the murdered body of the girl was found. In the meantime Corder had advertised for a wife in the Morning Herald in the following terms:—‘A private gentleman, aged twenty-four, entirely independent, whose disposition is not to be exceeded, has lately lost chief of his family by the hand of Providence, which has occasioned discord among the remainder, under circumstances the most disagreeable to relate. To any female of respectability, who would study for domestic comfort, and is willing to confide her future happiness to one in every way qualified to render the marriage state desirable, as the advertiser is in affluence. Many happy marriages have taken place through means similar to this now resorted to. It is hoped no one will answer this through impertinent curiosity; but should this meet the eye of any agreeable lady, who feels desirous of meeting with a sociable, tender, kind, and sympathising companion, they will find this advertisement worthy of notice. Honour and secrecy may be relied on. As some little security against idle application, it is requisite that letters may be addressed, post-paid, A. Z., care of Mr. Foster, stationer, 68 Leadenhall Street, with real name and address, which will meet with most respectful attention.’
| WILLIAM CORDER. FROM THE ‘OBSERVER,’ AUG. 10, 1823. |
Through this advertisement Corder became acquainted with a lady who kept the Grove House Academy at Ealing, near London. They were married, and he went to reside with his wife at Grove House, where he was arrested one morning in the spring of 1828. Various circumstances pointed to him as the murderer of Maria Marten, and he was tried for the crime at Bury St. Edmunds on Aug. 6, 1828. The crowd was so great that the counsel and officers of the court had to fight their way to their places. Corder appeared at the bar dressed in a new suit of black, and with his hair combed over his forehead. He wore a pair of blue French spectacles, through which he eyed the witnesses smilingly. Being called on for his defence, he read a statement which amounted to charging Maria Marten with having committed suicide. He said that in consequence of a quarrel they had in the Red Barn she shot herself with one of two pistols which he had with him:—‘The instant the mischief happened, I thought to have made it public; but this would have added to the suspicion, and I then resolved to conceal her death. I then buried her in the best way I could. I tried to conceal the fact as well as I could, giving sometimes one reason for her absence, and sometimes another.’ He was found guilty and sentenced to death, and the night before his execution he made the following confession:—‘I acknowledge being guilty of the death of poor Maria Marten, by shooting her with a pistol. The particulars are as follows: When we left her father’s house, we began quarrelling about the burial of the child, she apprehending that the place wherein it was deposited would be found out. The quarrel continued for about three quarters of an hour upon this and about other subjects. A scuffle ensued, and during the scuffle, and at the time I think that she had hold of me, I took the pistol from the side pocket of my shooting-coat.... I have been guilty of great idleness, and at times led a dissolute life, but I hope through the mercy of God to be forgiven.—W. Corder.’
This murder excited great and marked interest, not only in Suffolk, but through the whole country. On Aug. 10, 1828, the day before the execution, the Observer published a portrait of Corder and a view of the Red Barn, which are here copied. The excitement showed itself in the streets, where puppet shows represented the scene of the crime, and Methodist preachers held forth in the fields near the barn to thousands of attentive listeners. The Red Barn itself was nearly pulled to pieces by curiosity seekers.
| THE RED BARN. FROM THE ‘OBSERVER,’ AUG. 10, 1828. |
On the Monday of the execution all the workmen in Bury struck work in order to see the murderer hanged, and persons came from long distances for the same purpose. One man was pestered by every one he met on his return by inquiries whether Corder had really been hung that morning. This was repeated so often that he became quite weary of the constantly recurring question, ‘Is Corder executed?’ In the evening, in order to get rid of the gloomy feelings created by what he had witnessed, he went to the theatre, where he arrived somewhat late. The play (‘Macbeth’) had advanced to the fourth scene of the first act as he seated himself in the pit. The newcomer, who was better acquainted with the details of the murder in the Red Barn than with the plays of Shakespeare, was not a little astonished when King Duncan entered, and, fixing his eye upon him, repeated what he thought was the same question that had been so often addressed to him that day, ‘Is execution done on Cawdor?’
| THE SIAMESE TWINS. FROM THE ‘OBSERVER,’ NOVEMBER 22, 1829. |