Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks) (206 page)

THE OLD BAILEY

    THE sessions of the Central Criminal Court
commenced.
    The street of the Old Bailey was covered with straw; and the
pavement in the neighbourhood of the doors of the court on one side, and of the
public-houses on the other, was crowded with policemen, the touters of the
barristers and attornies practising criminal law, and the friends of the
prisoners whose trials were expected to come on that day.
    The press-yard, which is situate between the solid granite
wall of Newgate and the Court-house, was also flooded with living waves, which
rolled onwards from the street to the flight of steps leading into the gallery
of the Old Court. In former times, prisoners who refused to plead, were pressed
beneath immense weights, until they would consent to declare themselves guilty
or not guilty. This odious punishment was inflicted in that enclosure : hence
its name of the press-yard.
    It cannot be necessary to describe the court-house, with its
dark sombre walls, and its huge ventilator at the top. Alas! the golden bowl of
hope has been broken within those walls, and the knell of many a miserable
wretch has been rung upon its tribunals from the lips of the judge!
    The street of the Old Bailey presents quite an animated
appearance during the sessions ;- but it is horrible to reflect that numbers of
the policemen who throng in that thoroughfare upon those occasions, have trumped
up the charges for which prisoners have been committed for trial, in order to
obtain a holiday, and extort from the county the expenses of attending as
witnesses.
    At the time of which our tale treats, the sheriffs were
accustomed to provide two dinners for the judges every day ; one at three, and
the other at five o'clock, so that those who could not attend the first, were
enabled to take their seats at the second. Marrow puddings, beef-steaks, and
boiled rounds of beef, invariably formed the staple commodities of these
repasts ; and it was the duty of the ordinary chaplains of Newgate to act as
vice-presidents at both meals. This ceremony was always performed by those
reverend gentlemen the ecclesiastical gourmands contrived, during sessions, to
eat two dinners every day, and wash each down with a very tolerable allowance
of wine.
    We said that the Sessions commenced. On the Monday and
Tuesday, the Recorder in the Old Court, and the Common Sergeant in the New,
tried those prisoners who were charged with minor offences: on the Wednesday
the Judges upon the
rota
 
took their seats on the bench of
the Old Court.
    Richard Markham's name stood first for trial upon the list
on that day. He was conducted from Newgate by means of a subterraneous passage,
running under the Press-yard, into the dock of the Court.
    The Hall was crowded to excess, for the case had produced a
profound sensation. The moment Markham appeared in the dock, every eye was
fixed upon him. His countenance was very pale; but his demeanour was firm. He
cast one glance around, and then looked only towards the twelve men who were to
decide upon his fate. Close by the dock stood Mr. Monroe : Whittingham was in
the gallery ;- the Baronet, Chichester, and Talbot lounged together near the reporters'
box.
    The Jury were sworn, and the counsel for the prosecution
stated the case. He observed that the prisoner at the bar was a young man who,
upon his
 
majority, would become possessed of a considerable fortune; but
that in the mean time he had no doubt fallen into bad company, for it would be
proved that he was arrested by the police at a common gambling house in the
evening of the very same day on which he had committed the offence with which
he was now charged. it was but natural to presume that this young man had
imbibed the habit of gaming, and, having thereby involved himself in pecuniary
embarrassments, had adopted the desperate and fatal expedient of obtaining
money by means of forged Bank-notes, rather than communicate his situation to
his guardian. Where he procured these forged notes, it was impossible to say it
would, however, be satisfactorily proved to the jury that he passed a forged
note for five hundred pounds at the banking-house of Messrs —, and that when he
was arrested a second note for fifty pounds was found upon his person. Several
concurrent circumstances established the guilt of the prisoner. On the evening
previous to his arrest, the prisoner dined with Sir Rupert Harborough, Mr.
Chichester, and Mr. Talbot; and when these gentlemen proposed a walk after
dessert, the prisoner requested them to accompany him to a common gaming-house
in the Quadrant. They refused ; but finding him determined to visit that den,
they agreed to go with him, with the friendly intention of taking care that he
was not plundered of his money, he being considerably excited by the wine he
had been drinking. Ere he set out, the prisoner enquired if either of his
companions could change him a fifty pound note; but neither gentleman had
sufficient gold to afford the accommodation required. Now was it not fair to
presume that the prisoner intended to pass off upon one of his friends the very
forged fifty-pound note subsequently found upon him ! On the following day, the
prisoner - the moment he was released from custody on the charge of being found
in a common gaming-house - hurried home, and ordered his servants to prepare
for his immediate departure for the continent. He moreover wrote two letters,
which would be read to the jury, - one to a lady, and the other to his
guardian, - and both containing unequivocal admission of his guilt. The learned
counsel then read the letters, and commented upon their contents at some length
There were several expressions (he said) which clearly tended to
self-crimination.- "
Circumstances of a very peculiar nature, and which
I cannot at present explain, compel me
 
to
 
quit London thus abruptly.
" "
I could not have
remained in London another minute with safety to myself.
" "
I
conceive it to
 
be
 
my duty - in consequence of
rumours which may shortly reach you concerning me - to inform you that I have
this moment only awoke to the fearful perils of the career in which I have for
some weeks past been blindly hurrying along, till at length yesterday— 
 
." "
I am penitent, deeply penitent: let this
statement induce you to defend and protect my reputation.
"
 
The last paragraph but one which concluded so abruptly with the
words, "
till at length yesterday —
" clearly pointed to the
crime with which the prisoner was now charged and the last paragraph of all
undeniably implored Mr. Monroe, the young man's guardian, to hush up the matter
the moment it should reach his ears.
    The clerk at the banking-house, who changed the five hundred
pound note for the prisoner, then gave his evidence.
    At length Sir Rupert Harborough was called into the
witness-box; and he deposed that the prisoner had dined with him on the evening
previous to his arrest; that he very pressingly solicited him (Sir Rupert), and
Mr. Chichester, and Mr. Talbot, to accompany him to the gambling-house; and
that he moreover, enquired if either of them could accommodate him with change
for a fifty pound note.
    Mr. Chichester was called next. He stated the line of
defence adopted by the prisoner at Bow-street, and positively denied having
ever given the prisoner any notes to change for him.
    Markham's counsel cross-examined this witness with great
severity.
    "What are you, sir?"
    "A private gentleman."
    "What are your means of subsistence?"
    "I receive an allowance from my father."
    "Who is your father? Now, take care, sir,, how you
answer that question."
    "He is a commercial man, sir."
    "Is he not a tradesman?"
    "Well, - he is a tradesman, then - if you like
it."
    "Yes, - I do like it. Now - upon your oath - is he not
a pawnbroker in Brick-lane, Bethnal Green?"
    "He is a goldsmith in a large way of business, and
lends money occasionally
 
—
"
    "Ha!" complacently observed the counsel for the
defence. "Go on, sir:
 
lends money occasionally
 
—
"
    "Upon real security, I suppose," added Chichester,
taken considerably aback by these questions.
    "Upon deposits; let us give things their proper names.
He lends money upon flannel petticoats - watches - flat-irons, &c."
observed the barrister, with withering sarcasm. "But I have not done with
you yet, sir. Was your father - this very respectable pawnbroker - ever
elevated to the peerage?"
    "He was not, sir."
    "Then how come you by the distinction of
 
Honourable
 
prefixed to your name?"
    Mr. Chichester hung down his head, and made no reply. The
counsel for the prisoner repeated the question in a deliberate and emphatic
matter. At length, Mr. Chichester was fairly bullied into a humble
acknowledgment "that he had no right to the distinction, but that he had
assumed it as a convenient West-End appendage." The cross examination then
proceeded.
    "Did you not travel under the name of Winchester?"
    "I did - in Germany."
    "With what motive did you assume a false name?"
   
 
"I had no particular
motive."
    "Did you not leave England in debt? and were you not
afraid of your bills of exchange following you abroad?"
    "There is some truth in that; but the most honourable
men are frequently involved in pecuniary difficulties."
    "Answer my questions, sir, and make no observations.
You will leave me to do that, if you please. Now sir - tell the jury whether
you were not accompanied by a valet or coachman in your German trip?"
    "I am always accustomed to travel with a
domestic."
    "A man who runs away from his creditors should have
more delicacy than to waste his money in such a manner. When you were at
Baden-baden, were you not involved in some gambling transactions which
compelled you to quit the Grand-Duchy abruptly?"
   
"I certainly had a dispute
with a gentleman at cards: and I left the town next morning."
    "Yes - and you left your clothes and your servant
behind you - and your bill unpaid at the hotel?"
    "But I have since met my servant, and paid him more
than double the wages then due."
    "You may stand down, sir," said the counsel for
the defence - a permission of which the witness availed himself with surprising
alacrity.
    The counsel for the prosecution now called Mr. Whittingham.
The poor butler ascended the witness-box with a rueful countenance; and, after
an immense amount of badgering and baiting, admitted that his young master had
meditated a sudden and abrupt departure from England, the very day upon which
he was arrested, in his cross-examination he declared that the motives of the journey
were founded upon certain regrets which Richard entertained at having permitted
himself to be led away by Messrs. Chichester and Talbot, and Sir Rupert
Harborough.
    "And, my Lords," ejaculated the old domestic,
elevating his voice, "Master Richard is no more guilty of this here
circumwention than either one of your Lordships; but the man, that did it all
is that there Chichester, which bilked his wally-de-shamble, and that wulgar
fellow, Talbot, which called me
 
a
 
tulip
.
"
    This piece of eloquence was delivered with much feeling; and
the Judges smiled -  for they appreciated the motives of the honest old
domestic.
    The officer who arrested Markham, proved that he found upon
his person, when he searched him at Bow Street, a pocket-book, containing
between thirty and forty pounds. in notes and gold, together with a note for
fifty pounds.
    A clerk from the Bank of England proved that both the note
for five hundred pounds changed at the bankers, and the one for fifty just
alluded to, were forgeries.
    The case for the prosecution here closed; and the Judges
retired to partake of some refreshment.
    Markham had leisure to think over the proceedings of the
morning. He was literally astounded when he contemplated the diabolical perjury
committed by Sir Rupert Harborough and Mr. Chichester; but he entertained the
most sanguine hope that the discredit thrown upon the character of the latter
would render his testimony worthless. He shuddered when he reflected how
ingeniously the counsel for the prosecution had grouped together those
circumstances which told against him; and then again a ray of satisfaction
animated his countenance, when he remembered that his counsel would speedily
show those circumstances in a new light.
    The Judges returned: silence prevailed throughout the hall;
and the prisoner's counsel rose for the defence. Richard seated himself in the
dock, and prepared to listen with the greatest attention to the speech of his
advocate
 
;
 
and Whittingham placed his hand
in a curved position behind his ear, in order to assist that organ on the
present important occasion.
    The counsel for the defence began by giving some account of
the family and social position of the prisoner, who was born of parents
accustomed to move in the first rank of life, and who was the heir to a fortune
of no inconsiderable amount. During his minority, his guardian, who was then
present, had promised to allow the prisoner six hundred rounds a-year. With
these pecuniary advantages it was absurd to suppose that young man of education
- a young man whose noble and honourable feelings had been the object of remark
on the part of all his friends, and who had only to express a want to his
guardian, in order to receive its immediate gratification - it was absurd to
imagine that such an individual would either enter into a conspiracy with
others, or plan by himself, for the purpose of raising money upon forged notes.
No -  this young man was one of a most generous and confiding disposition;
and, as he had seen but little of the world, he was totally unacquainted with
its wiles and artifices. Thus was he made the dupe of some designing villains,
at his very outset upon life. The whole history of the present transaction was
to be summed up in a few words. A gang of conspirators had hit upon the
desperate mode of passing forged notes, in order to retrieve their ruined
fortunes. Not as magnanimous as the highwayman who perils his own existence
while he perpetrates a crime, these men required a tool of whom they might make
use, and who could be at any time sacrificed to save them. This instrument -
this scapegoat, was the prisoner at the bar. The witness, whose real name was
Chichester. but who, by his own confession, had travelled on the Continent
under another denomination, was not a person on whom the Jury could place any
reliance. He had assumed a distinction to which he was by no means entitled -
he had affected all the arrogance and importance of a man of rank and fashion,
- whereas he was the son of a pawnbroker in the refined locality of Brick-Lane,
Bethnal Green! Endowed with much impudence, clever in imitating the manners of
his superiors, and well versed in all the intricacies and subtleties of the
world, this possessor of assumed distinctions - this swaggering imitator of a
class far above him - this adventurer, with fascinating conversation, ready
wit, amusing anecdote, and fashionable attire,-  this