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ENGLISH ITEMS.

Wo clip the following from papers brought by last mail. EXECUTION' OF THE ALTON MURDERER. At eight o’clock on Tuesday morning, Frederick Baker was hanged at Winchester gaol for the murder of Fanny Adams. The crime was one of shocking atrocity. On an afternoon in August he took away one of three little girls playing near a hop garden at Alton, and not only cruelly murdered her, but afterwards dismembered and cut the body about in a most horrible manner. Public indignation was so strongly aroused by the reports of the murder, that on the trial of Baker, his own counsel, while endeavouring to free the minds of the jury from prejudice, ventured to say that were his client at liberty at that moment the people themselves would commit murder by tearing him to pieces. He was a lawyer’s clerk .twentynine years of age, but from the absence of beard, looked younger. Notwithstanding the circumstances of the case might be supposed to appeal more strongly than usual to that morbid curiosity which attracts spectators to the sight of public executions, the counterbalance of a damp and raw December morning proved too strong for the million. Some hundreds of the working classes of Winchester, as many by early trains from Southampton and Portsmouth,j a lew shopkeepers, a large proportion of women, and a small sprinkling of nondescript made by a concourse of less than five thousand persons, who stood in the grey dawn gazing at the hideous machine which overtopped the noble and massive portals of the country jail. It was a most orderly crowd. In the condemned cell of the prison the convict had, as is most strangely usual with men on the eve of execution, slept all night and taken his regular meals in the morning. He was attended by the Rev. Foster Rogers, the chaplain, to whose ministrations he has, ever since his conviction, lent an attentive ear. At the hour fixed he was brought out and conducted along the corridors and accross the court-yard to the pinioning room. He wore a well-brushed black hat, and had evidently been rather attentive to his dressing. He walked steadily enough, and while somewhat pensive, did not manifest any particular emotion. Guarded by warders, and followed by the hangman and those of the officials who where obliged to be present, he went unassisted up the stairs to a room where he was pinioned while sitting in a chair. From thence he went without help to the scaffold, and took his place under the beam. At this, the first time whenhe became visible to those assembled in the road in front of the prison, there arose from the crowd no more manifestation of feeling than the movement and subdued noise which is due to the endeavours just then made by everybody to get a look at the criminal. The feeling of execration so strongly shown at various times seemed to be forgetton'in the presence of death; but on the other hand, there were none of those expressions of sympathy which women are apt to make when the nature of the crime admits of sorrow for the murderer. Baker stood on the drop until the hangman had covered his face and secured the rope- Then, while left alone for several terrible moments to allow the Rev. Chaplin to finish theservice the wretched man quivered from head to foot. The warders stretched out their hands to support him, but as they did so the bolt was drawn, and the miserable culprit soon ceased to exist. During the time Baker has been in the condemned cell he has read religious books and pamphlets, and attended to religious duties. With those about him he conversed coherently and sensibly, showing a degree of intellectual power which, properly applied, might have made him a useful member of society He admitted his guilt, and wrote a contrite letter to the father of the poor little girl whom he killed, askin'*- for such forgiveness as might be afforded him. The father returned him a consolatory message. It is said that he wished to be visited by a young woman to whom he at one time paid his addresses, but he was advised not to see anybody. None of his relatives or former acquaintances saw him in the cell. lie himself declined to be visited by his father, because, as he said, it would kill the old man. While he fully confessed the murder, he denied that he committed any other crime than that on the person of his victim. He said he left the office at half-past one, and went across the Flood meadow to the first stile at the hollow. He was followed by the children, and they ran up and down the hollow for halfpence, which he gave them. Then two of them said they must go home; and they went of their own will, not by his request. He than took Fanny Adams in his arms into the hop-ground. He handled her improperly, when she struggled and screamed, and one of the screams was heard by Minnie Warren and Mrs White. He therefore took out his penknife and cut her throat with his left hand. He then took the poor child’s eyes out and partially dismembered the body. He carried the eyes away in his hand. He went by the front of Chalcraft’s house and in passing through the churchyard he opened a gate for a witness who spoke to that circumstance. His hands were then bloody, and he was surprised she did not see the blood. He went to the bridge in Flood-meadow, and there dropped the eyes and washed his bands. He then went by a back wav to his office. He denies most emphatically that be ever used any other knife than the small one he had about him. Three days before, the knife being out of order,

he sharpened it for the purpose of making an erasure. After he returned to the office he went to the pump and washed the knife. He took great pains to clean it inside and out, and he oiled it with a feather. Nevertbless, it will be remembered that Dr Taylor, while believing- that the dismemberment had been done with a larger instrument, found a single spot on the knife. Dr Leslie, the Alton surgeon, thought the child’s body might possibly have been cut up with that knife, Baker said he made it very sharp. In the evening, at ten minutes past five, he went round to the hopgarden again, and it was then he dis-

membered the arm and foot. He was not more than ten minutes in doing that The foot was taken off in two minutes. While he was leaning- over the style in Hollow-lane, with the foot in his hand, he thought he heard some one coming, and he threw it away. He has not himself, attributed the crime to insanity, but has said be was maddened by drink when be did it.

A ROMANCE AND AN ELOPEMENT. An elopement ot a singular and romantic character has just taken place in a villiage situate a few miles from Wolverhampton, the circumstances of which are these: —There lived in the villiage a young man, a carpenter by trade, who was possessed of good looks, and by some means or other he contrived to attract the attention of the daughter of the clergyman. An attachment sprang up between them, and an elopement took place. The runaways resorted to a villiage on the borders of Shropshire, and preparations were made for the marriage. The friends of the young lady, who, is extremely good-looking, and possessed of considerable means, discovered their retreat, and by dint of much argument persuaded her to forsake her lover. Instead of taking the matter to heart, the gay Lothario returned to his native villiage, the inhabitants of which believed him to be cured of bis romantic ideas. This notion, however, proved to be erroneous, for he as once more quitted the locality, and with him has disappeared a younglady, the daughter of a wealthy widow lady residing in the same place. Inquiries were set on foot, hut, unfortunately, too late to prevent the match, intelligence having- been received that the pair have been married at, Derby. It seems that they became acquainted by the practice of singing- together in the villiage church, where the would-be Benedict seized the opportunity of pouring his tale of love into the willingears of tho fair one. The bride is possessed of some thousands, and the happy bridegroom as we have already intimated, follows the occupation of a carpenter.

CONVICTION OF AN ATROCIOUS VILLAIN. On Thursday, Thomas Howard, a tailor, was indicted at the Old Baily foxrape. This was an extraordinary case, and almost unpax-alleled in the annals of crime. It appeared that the prosecutrix, a fine young- woman, named Lucy Strutt, who had been for some time in the services of Mr. Long-, of Munster-street, Regent-Street, was visited by Martha Davis, a cousin, also a servant girl, and under the idea that she was going to a situation where there would he less work, obtained leave on the evening of the 19th of October to absent herself from her mistress’s house, and she and Daws went out together. Outside the prisoners was waiting for them, and Davis then introduced him as her intended husband,, who, she said, was the person requiring the servant. The prosecutrix, not suspecting that anything was amiss, consented to walk with the prisoner and her cousin, and then they invited her to his house, in Newton-street. High Holborn, which Davis said would be her future home. It proved to be a house of ill-fiime, the prisoner being the keeper of it. He began to take liberties with Strutt, who became alarmed, and cried for help, but Davis,[instead of interfering in her behalf, laughed at her, pursuaded her to submit to the man’s importunities, and actually held her while he violated her person. The girl, greatly terrified, promised, on his importunity, to reiurn and live with him, and by this pretext regained her liberty, and Davis accompanied her to the house of her mistress, in order that she might take away her clothes at once; but the girl told her mistress what had occurred, and the police were immediately communicated with. Davis was apprehended, and at the last sessions of the Central Criminal court was convicted as an accessory, and sentenced to two years’ impi'isonraent. The prisoner absconded, and was not taken into custody till recently, when he was tound in apartments in Carlisle-street, on information communicated to the police by a man named Kelly, a private inquiry agent. The prosecutrix gave her evidence with remarkable propriety, and was not in the least shaken by thecross-examination. The jury retired to consider their verdict, and after an absence of half an hour returned with a verdict of “ Guilty.” The police crncerned in the case described the prisoner as having for some time lived entirely on the earnings of young girls, whom he kept for the purposes of prostitution. Two years ago he was sentenced to two years’ imprisonment on a charge of abduction, but owing to a point of law being raised in his favour he was liberated soon afterwards, In the treatment of his victims he often resortec o cruelty; using American “knuckle-dusters.” "Cries of “Murder had been frequently heard from his house, and particularly from a “ cafe ” that he kept, and on many occasions the police had burst open the door and rescued young xvomen who had been decoyed thex-e. He had brought

charges of robbery against girls whom he had seduced—the names of more than fifty of whom the police said they were able to give—until Mr. Knox, the magistrate, would hear them no longer.—The prisoner, who affected to shed tears, said he was a poor, unfortunate fellow and begged for mercy.—The common-serjeant sentenced him to fifteen years penal servitude. LIBERTY OF THE PRESS. —IMPORTANT DECISION. All newspaper folk must, of course, be glad that an action which Mr Rigby Wason brought against the u Times ” for its having faithfully reported a debate in the House of Lords, has failed. The Wason-Kelly story itself is a little curious. Years ago, Mr Kelly, afterwards Sir Fitzroy, and now Lord Chief Baron, beat Mr Wason in an election contest. Mr Wason petitioned, and during the hearing Mr Kelly made a statement which was accepted by the committee, but which Mr Wason declared to be untrue. The belief was certainly ratner general that Mr Kelly’s memory had not been quite true to him, but the affair passed over, Mr Kelly won honour, and esteem, and place, and at length was raised to the Bench. Then Mr Wason, who had cherished all his old feelings, brought up the subject again, and in a debate in the Lords was very freely castigated. It was for publishing the debate in which this occurred that he sued the “ Times,” and for some comments, hut Sir Alexander Cockburn ruled that the ‘Times’ had a right to publish and the verdict was for the defendant. It ought not to be necessary for a paper to defend itself for doing what is demanded of it by the public. Allen’s FAREWELL TO HIS SWEET-

HEART. We (“ Manchester Examiner”) publish the annexed communication of what were probably the very last written words of the convict William Phillip Allen, because the}’’ are an interesting-contribu-tion to the public estimate of the writer’s character. As the result of personal inquiries, we have a satisfactory assurance that the composition is authentic. The name of Miss has been suppressed by ourselves, from motives which will be appreciated;—

“To Miss Mary , Oh, my love, I am parting from you ; pray that we may meet in heaven. May God, in his mercy protect you. I cannot write much today, Mary dear. We must thiniv of the other World. May Heaven be your bed Mary, The Holy Cross be your guide, Oh, remember your dear William, - And don’t throw him aside. Oh, Mary dear, we have to part, No more I’Jl walk on Erin’s shore, Still let me rest in your fond heart For now and evermore. I did not see yon, Mary, Since I was condemned to die, Oh ! you’ll not forget me, Mary, But for me you will not sigh. Oh ! Mary, if I had your heart, I would clasp it to ray breast, And from me it would not part Until I was laid to rest.

When I am dead and gone, Think that I am all alone ; Eemember, still, my heart was won By yen when we were far from home. “ Good bye for evermore, and may God protect you. These are the dyingwishes of your trre lover, —W. P. Allen.” DEATH FROM STARVATION. On Thursday, December 6, an inquest was held in Devons-road, Bromley, on the body of George Henry Pritchard, aged 4-3 years. The deceased was formerly in a good position, but through losses became reduced to a dreadful state of destitution. The family, including five children, have often been without food, and at best had only a scanty allowance of bread. On Sunday, Dec. 1, deceased fell forward on his face on the floor, and the other members of the family were so gone in starvation that he remained unnoticed until Monday morning, and he saw the deceased lying on his face on the floor. Four little children were lying on the floor; they were aged 13,11, 7, and 6 years respectively, and there was a baby of thirteen months. There was a bundle in the middle of the floor, and he was going to step on it to reach the deceased, when the boy said, “ That’s my mother.” She was the most deplorable object he had ever seen. She was all but dead. The husband was dead and cold, There was neither fire, nor food, nor furniture in the house. Dr H. V. German saidhefound the man dead and stiff. The mother was nearly dead. Deceased had died from inflamation of the lungs consequent on the want of the necessaries of life. If Mr Ellis had not acted with promptitude, the wife would not have lived an hour. She was so ill that she could not be told of the death of her husband. A little it was stated, was now delirious, and in her delirium she spoke of nothing but her previous misery. It was pitiful to hear her say, “It is the last bit of bread! Keep it for the baby!” The jury returned a verdict of “ Death from pleuro pneumonia, accelerated by want of food and necessary clothing.”

Permanent link to this item
Hononga pūmau ki tēnei tūemi

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WAIST18680307.2.20

Bibliographic details
Ngā taipitopito pukapuka

Wairarapa Standard, Volume II, Issue 62, 7 March 1868, Page 4

Word count
Tapeke kupu
2,790

ENGLISH ITEMS. Wairarapa Standard, Volume II, Issue 62, 7 March 1868, Page 4

ENGLISH ITEMS. Wairarapa Standard, Volume II, Issue 62, 7 March 1868, Page 4

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