The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1875-12-25 00:00:00

THE WHITECHAPEL TRAGEDY.

EXECUTION OF HENRY WAINWRIGHT.

On Tuesday Lorniug, Henry Wainwright suffered
t'is extreme penalty of the law, within the walls of
N.wgate. On the previous day the wretched man
maintained his firmness and self-possession in a re-
markable manner. He had, indeed, been wonderfully
ealected sitce the last inteLview with his re-
latives. On Sunday he was 'allowed to select
tl'e hymns for service in the prison chapel;
r 11,1 while the one which preceded the sermon,
in. the morning, was being sung, Wainwright
for nnce lost control over his feelings, and had to be led
back to his cell. In the afternoon he had recovered
himself sufficiently to sit out the whole of the service.
His appetite seldom left him; and the sleeplessness
which wore him down more than any temporary absti-
nence from food, had latterly decreased, so that for a
few of the last nights he spent on earth he enjoyed
repose.—The Echo gives the following account of the
execution :

"Arriving near Newgate I could discern but few
signs of the coming legal tragedy, and even the Old
Bailey—that thoroughfare of grim memories, in which
was wont to congregate a ribald and seething mass
of humanity—was now almost deserted. Two or threes
policemen patrolled quietly on the pavement; little
knots of people stood about conversing in a quiet
tone, whilst such as were pursuing their accustomed
avocations passed by with a glance at the frown-
ing walls of the prison itself, and at those, who, from
puTient curioity, were discussing the event so fear-
fully near at hand. These were scanning with eager
curiosity the upper windows of the Governor's real-
deal, where, through the interstices of the Venetian
blinds, a light was seen to be burning, as if they might
find something to appease their morbid appetite.
When the deep-mouthed hell of St. Sepulchre's tolled
half-past seven a dense crowd of professional gentle-
men arrived with the, official orders of admission,
and blocked up the narrow staircase leading to the
ironbound wicket-gate, which yields access to the
Feak vestibule of the prison. Only two or three were
admitted at once on presenting the talismanic docu-
ment, and as these arrived within the precincts, keen
offic,ial eyes scrutinised their authenticity. Leaving
umbrellas at the inner Cafe, I, with others passed
through a series of low-roofed passages, lighted with
gas, and traversing the eastern quadrangle we were
admitted into a small square, in one corner of which
was a shed containing the dread instrument of the
law—the drop being attached by a few links of a stout
iron cable to a massive cross beam, resting upon
two uprights. Only the upper half of the shed,
disclosing about five feet of the scaffold, ss as open to
view, the reaaitder being concealed by the losvergates
of the shed, which were shut. The spectators were
ranged about fifteen feet from the scaffold, their
distance being defined by a barrier of wooden
pales drawn across the flagged courtyard. Inside
this line of demarcation were half--dozen policemen
placed at regular intervals from each other. As the
dreadful hour drew near the state of high tension to
which the nerves of the spectators were evidently sub-
jected was manifest in thv cold shivering which aeismedto
steal over most of those present. Looking around
nothing could be seen but the gaunt prison walls; with
their closely barred windows. 'Ere long the execution
bell pealed forth upon the morning air, and did not
cease until the ghastly business was finished. As the
bells of the prison and St. Sepulchre's proclaimed
eight o'clock, and sounded the knell of the dying man,
the mournful procession emerged from the con-
demned cell, and reached the courtyard, the outer
door bring only a few feet from the scaffold. The
on-lookers instantly uncovezd, and all eyes were
strained to observe the culprit, who was pre-
ceded by a warder and accompanied by the hangman
—an elderly, decent looking man. The countenance
of the doomed wretch was but little more haggard
thas,sin the occasion of his last appearance in Court.
It was, however, marked by a deathly, pallor, and
traces of red around his bloodshot eyes. told of the
mental anguish he had undergone during the last
three weeks. Oh taking his place on the scaffold
the executioner at once strapped the legs of the
prisoner, who stood with his eyes steadily fixed
downwards. The Governor took up a position in
front of Wainwright, as if superintending the opera-
tion, and the other gentlemen present on the scaffold
were Alderman and Sheriff Knight and Under-
Sheriff Crawford. Whilst the brief preparations were
being made, the Ordinary read in a loud and impressive
voice, a portion of the Burial Service of the Church of
England.
- -

-
" ' Man that is horn of woman bath but a short time
to live, and is full of misery. He cometh up and is
cut down like a flower; he fleeth as it were a shadow,
and never continueth in one stay.'

-
- "
In the midst of life we are in death; of whom
may we seek for succour, but of Thee, 0, Lord, who
for our sins art justly displeased.'
"Having firmly secured the culprit's legs—his arms
had been already pinioned when he was led forth
--the executioner drew the white cap over his
head, and then placed around his neck the
fatal hempen noose. Nicely adjusting the knot
under the chin, he immediately stepped aside—in an
instant the bolt was drawn, the treacherous plat-
form gave way with a sharp bang, and the
murder of Harriet Lane was avenged. Wainwright
fell three feet, and death must have been almost in-
stantaneous. Nothing could be seen except the slight
swaying to and fro of the rope, and in a few minutes
the spectators dispersed, each feeling a sensation of
relief that the terrible penalty of the law had at length
been enacted. Outside, the completion of the sentence
was announced to a large crowd by the hoisting of the
black fiag."

The Globe of Tuesday gives the following account of
the execution :

"If public cnriosity about theelast moments of a con-
demned malefactor is justifiable Trder any circumstances, it
surely was so in the case of the wretched man who paid the
last penalty of the law this morning. Apart from the
dramatic incidents surrounding the discovery of the crime,
the fact that Henry Wainwright was found guilty on purely
circumstantial evidence caused a wide-spread idea to
prevail that when the last moment arrived he would
make sifsme explanatory statement. Certain details
connected with the tragedy: remained shrouded in semi-
obscurity, owing to the want of direct testimony for their
elucidation. For instance, it is indisputable that the evi-
dence given at the trial altegether failed to assign any
adequate motive for the murder of Harriet Lane by Henry
Wainwright. Mary hypotheses, more or less ingenious, were
advanced to account for the commission of the crime, hut
mere supposition formed the foundation of all alike. Not
a single theory possessed any other basis than the imagination
of its author, and a clue to the real reasortfor the murder
therefore remained the one unsatisfactory point in the case.
To a great extent the public desire for information about the
doomed man proceeded from a hope that this mystery would
be cleared up before the murderer's voice was hushed for
ever' A. vague expectation got abroad immediately after the
trial, increasing in strength day after day, that the last
moments of Henry Wainwright would witness some startling
disclosures. Considerable diversity of opinion existed as to
the form these would take. By some a full confession was
looked for, although the criminal's antecedents arid his
character for indomitable firmness militated agatust this
supposition. Others believed he would deny his guilt
to the very last while not a few expected some mit of
accusation more or less direct, implicating some person lee:
previously suspecte I of complicity in the murder. Theee
various surmises nalurally served to keel pubic interest
alive as to what would fall Irom the murderr clueing his
last moments on torch. In the ease of Muller, who Hire
Wainwriget, was condemned on purely circurns.antini
evidence a confession of guilt vial elieet el on The scaffold.
"I alone did—" whisteet the wietcl el man in German
to ti e mlssionery by his side, just before the re
was adinsted ou tis neck. This precedent being still fresh
in the public memory, it was by no menus a mere morbid
desire for horrifying details that has caused such a general
desire for information as to how Wainwright Would conduct
himself when the fatal bell of St. Sepuldfre tolled for coming
death. Even if the resolute man preserved_ absolute silence,
exe could scarcer, be wanting some ind &atone suggestive of
litltocence Or corrvbomtive of guilt. Facia expression, do-
nietinotil, gait, and nerves are not altogether under control
even, of the most. determined nt such crucial vuothente, and:
It Ives therefore possible that Henry Wainwright blight tin-
consciously betray more than his tongue chose to tell,
,1 whether in assertion of qualified innocence or of unqualified
crime,

"The morning broke ia r and cloudless 'after a boisterous
night. The damp warmth which had been in the atmospherd
for the last few days gave place to a wholesome freshness,
and there was a frosty nip in the air just before daybreak. '
Before the quick coming dawn had obliterated the clear out-
line of the crescent moos London was astir, especially along
its mln Arteries of communication with the country. For
Christm.Lts is at hand and among the millions of inhabitants,
perhaps, there was but nne man who did not make some
prep Lrations for the coming feast. From all points of the
compass come lumbering along great wains 1 Lden
with bright-berried holly and sombre evergreens, while here
and there the more precious mistletoe is borne swiftly
to market in light carts. With many a rough Jest the
drivers lounge by the side of their waggons, cracking their
whips smartly, and speaking cheerily to their elephantine
horses. Along the banks of the silently flowing river, lights
glimmer at intervals, and barges drift noiselessly- under the
dark arches of Blackfrians Bridge. On every side ther., is a,
sense of freshened life, to everything animate the atmos-
pheric change seems to have given increased vitality.
Even the yawning shop-boys pulling down shutters ex-
hibit signs of unwonted liveliness: while itinerant coffee
vendors in the streets cheerily pass the compliments, of
the season to their customers. A beautiful morning, srith
only three days intervening between it and Christialis,
and every sign of seasonable wt ether to make that
great festival pass off well. Newgatte, however, knows
nothing of Christmas. Stony-faced, pitiless, the granite
sphinx seems to be ceaselessly asking why civilisation has not
toned some better way of turning Littman beings away from
sin and crime than by incarcerating them within stone wails.
St. Sepulchre, gazing down in all the glory of its renovation
on this impassive neighbour, tolls a mournful response,
and as the dismal sound atrikes upon the ear, all
the freshness goes out of the air, and the merry