The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1849-08-28 00:00:00

LIVERPOOL STANPARIL

when he first rose to address the court, by the clamour of
an unruly, ill-guided, and vicious multitude. Let him
do his duty at all events. What if it had been bruited

about that if the prisoner were let loose in Liverpool,
there would be no necessity for the hangman. What if
people assembled there that day could not restrain their
conduct within the bounds which ordinary decency would
require. What, if this had been the case to-day, what
would the case be to-morrow, if it had not been that he
gladly acquiesced in an arrangement by which he hoped
they would be saved tumult and excitement, which ought
to be far from such a case as this ? He asked each of
them was there a human being whom they loved or knew—
their wives or daughters, who had not prejudged the pri-
soner in their hearing, and spoke of it as a dead case in
which there was no hope of acquittal, and in which the
party who came forward to aid and assist the prisoner
would be guilty of a crime. He knew the kind indul-

Bence of the 'jury would be given him under such
circumstances. He had enlisted against him every manly
feeling. If a man were struck down in open conflict,
there was a just resentment. If he had recourse to more

crafty means, and poisoned his enemy, he was the object
of hatred ; and when the victim was a woman—and he

was not going to conceal from them that it was said two

women and taco children had fallen by the hand of the
prisoner, human nature shuddered at such a monster.

The learned gentleman then proceeded to denounce the
conduct of Mr. Clough, the superintendent of the detec-
tive police, for subjecting the prisoner to a cross-exami-
natior, charging him with doing what no man in the
presence of her Majesty's Judge dared to have attempted.
and suggested that when such had been Mr. Clough's
conduct, there was a possibility of the evidence being
doctored. The first point to be decided was the question
of identity. His learned friend, Mr. Sergeant Wilkins,
had referred in his opening statement to a deposition

which afterwards they could not prove, and the jury was
bound to reject that altogether as not in the evidence by
which they were sworn to try the prihoner. Be he the

most accursed murderer that ever hung from the fatal tree,
they must discard from their mind all which his (Mr.
Pollock's) learned friend had not been able to prove.

Was it proved that the prisoner was the murderer ? There

was no 'distinct evidence. The evidence was circumstan-

tial ; and touched the prisoner particularly only on the
testimony of one or two witnesses. Those witnesses

were M`bermott and Kearney. But parties were likely
to be mistaken in the identity of parties. How often did
they find four or five witnesses swearing to the identity of

a prisoner, when it was proved by subsequent evidence
that they must have been mistaken : and he asked the jury

was it possible that the same man could be seen at the lime
it was said he was seen at the figure of 8 pit, in Toxteth7

park, and that afterwards he was seen at the time stated
in London:road, and previously at the corner of Leveson-

street. AlUbe times mentioneci were within five minutes of

each other—ten minutes was the utmost extent given ; and if
the prisoner were the individual who was seen washing
himself at the figure of eight pit, how was it at all reason-
able that he 'could be in London-road in something less
than ten minutes after he was seen there ? It was all but

impossible. The possession of the stolen property, it
might be said, proved the prisoner to be the man who
committed the murders. When was the property stolen ?
They had no particular evidence before them of when it
was safe; and on Wednesday morning they did not know
whether the watch was worn by Mrs. Henrichson or not.
There was no pr3of that it was taken from her person
after the murder.

His LORDSHIP interrupted Mr. Pollock, and said the
last witness had stated that she saw the watch in the pos-
session of the deceased on the Tuesday evening.
Mr. POLLOCK continued.—lf it could be shown that

the watch had been taken from the person of Mrs. Hen-
richson, there would be a strong presumption against the
prisoner; but possession of stolen property did not of
necessity compel . him to be the murderer. But if they
considered the prisoner to be the man who committed
the murder, there was another consideration, and that
was, what was the responsibility, and what was the mind
and intellect of this man ? And here again he (Mr.
Pollock) knew he had the greatest difficulty to contend
with in attempting to prove to the jury that the prisoner
must not be in a state of mind in which, in reality, he

was capable of knowing right from wrong,' as a rational
being accountable for marring God's works. He
prayed their attention to the facts adduced by the pro-
secution, pregnant with meaning, and from which he pro-
posed to show that the man who committed those mur-
ders, as they were committed, was not a rational or re-
sponsible being. Let them ask what was the motive, and
whether the motive be adequate to induce a sane man to
commit such crimes, and whether they could reconcile
the conduct of the pursuer with the prisoner, supposing
him to be the man, as that of a man with a rational mind,
who was responsible for the exercise of that reason which
would alone render him amenable to the law. What was
the motive? His learned friend would say that plunder
was the motive. He would show to the jury that it could
not have been the motive. They would have the boxes
laid before them. They would see the value of their con-
tents. They would know that they had been broken
open, and their contents rejected, and this negatived the
assertion that the motive was plunder. The property in
those boxes consisted of silver spoons, trinkets, and other
valuables, easily convertible into money, and yet nothing
was taken. if he had committed the murder for the sake
of plunder, what did he take? Nothing. The murder of
the servant might be accounted for by supposing the ob-

ject of the perpetrator to be plunder; but what could be the
motive for the murder of the children ? At the time the
murders were committed was there a man in the box who
did not say that the murderer must have been mad ? It
might be said that this first impression had been since re-
moved. First impressions were sometimes correct, as
well as they were sometimes incorrect. Did they ever
hear of such a murder as this ? Did they ever hear of
thirty wounds being inflicted on an unfortunate person?
Did they ever hear of a baby's head being stove into
mummy by a sane and rational man ? No, a sane man
calculated the amount of violence necessary to effect his
object,—he did not exhibit that savage brutality, that un-
accountable ferocity, that arose from an uncontrolled in-
tellect, or an irrational being. The learned gentleman

then referred to the state in which the weapons used by
the murderer were found, and referred to the indiserimi-

nate use of the fire-irons, and the perpetration of the
murders, as an undoubted evidence of insanity. He asked
the jury was not the brutal and savage ferocity exhibited
more like the act of a madman than that of a rational

being. The learned gentleman then referred to the con-
duct of the prisoner, his exhibiting the watch, and, as it
were, courting detection; his going from shop to shop,
and from place to place, without attempting concealment.
if he were the murderer, this was evidence of insanity at
the particular time, though insanity might not now exist,
or at least of an unconsciousness of crime, arising from a
diseased mind. After referring to the suspicion which
always attached to the defence of insanity, the learned
gentleman referred to the facts of the case generally, and
called on the jury, if they had any doubt on their minds
as to whether the prisoner were the murderer, from the
evidence produced, that he was entitled to the benefit of
that doubt.

His LORDSHIP then proceeded to sum up. He said he
trusted the jury would judge of the case entirely on the
evidence adduced that day, and put out of their mind
everything which they had heard in connexion with the
case. In a case of this kind, where it was not merely the
death of one particular individual, but the death of two
women and two children, one could not be sur-
prised that every person who heard of such a tragedy
should have his feelings a good deal excited in the first
instance, and exhibit his strong abhorrence of the crime
—of course none of those feelings ought to weigh with
them in considering whether the charge was brought home

to the prisoner at the bar. That a bitrbarous murder had
been committed there could be no doubt. The sole ques-
tion was, whether it had been brought home to the pri-
soner at the bar, and under such circumstances as that he
ought to be found guilty of the murder and was answer-
able for the consequences. But if there was any doubt
on their minds the prisoner was entitled to the benefit of
that doubt. With respect to the eonduct of persons in
court, there had been on one or two occasions in the
course of the trial expressions of feeling which ought not
to have taken place. His Lordship then proceeded to
read and comment briefly on the evidence; and after he
had gone through it in an extremely clear, succint, and
impartial manner, he continued to observe—from this
evidence you have to judge whether the prisoner is the
man who did the murder. If you are satisfied that he is,
there can be no question as to his sanity. I do not think
(said his Lordship, with great energy) there is the slight-
est possible evidence of insanity. I am obliged to state
so openly, because really, if, on account of the ferocity
and brutality of the offence, a jury were to be told to pre-
sume a man to be insane, you might as well have no law
or justice in society at all. This was really frightful, and
he believed this was the first instance in which insanity
was attempted to be set up from the brutality and ferocity
that characterized the deed. There must be something to
satisfy the minds of the jury that the prisoner was insane.
But what was there here ? There was nothing at all
in particular, excepting the mere ferocity of it, from
which I do not think that any one would draw the con-
clusion tbat the man did not know right from wrong. As
to his not having such a motive as would induce a reason-
able man to commit such a horrible murder, why, a rea-
sonable man would not commit a murder at all. It
was not a question whether a man had his right senses
or reason in that sense that he could not control his pas-
sion. A man might commit a murder whilst labouring
under a sudden fit of passion, or to gratify revenge; but
it was not for that reason that a jury was to say that a
man was insane. A reasonable and well-judging man
would not strike at all ; and if we see from the evidence
of a case that a man was really out of his mind, and did
not know whether he was doing wrong or not; that his
mind was entirely beyond his control ; that he was not
aware that what he did was wrong in the sight of God or
man; then, in considering your verdict, such a man could
not be answerable for his actions; but this really is the
first time I have ever heard this sort of defence carried to
the extravagant extent, that because the thing is so very
ferocious, the man who committed it must be insane.
The prisoner, who had throughout the trial appeared to
retain his self-possession, and to be perfectly unconcerned,
paid very great attention to his Lordship's charge; and
when reference was made to his supposed insanity, and
his Lordship expressed so strong an opinion against the
existence of insanity, or rather against the jury being led
to draw the conclusion that the murderer must be insane
from the evidence adduced, he evidently lost that self-
possession which characterised him, and showed great
uneasiness.
The Jury were then desired to consider their verdict,
and after consulting for somewhat less than five minutes,
without leaving the box, the issue paper was handed in.
The Clerk of the Crown—How say you, gentlemen, is
the prisoner at the bar guilty or not guilty ?
The Foreman, in a distinct and emphatic voice, replied
" Guilty."
During the time the jury were engaged considering their
verdict, the most breathless anxiety prevailed, though few
doubted what their verdict would be. The slightest
movement was perfectly audible throughout the court, and

all eyes were turned on the prisoner, who had his gaze
fixed steadily on the jury-box. When the verdict was
announced a slight murmur of approbation was audible,
but it was instantly suppressed, and the prisoner heard the
verdict with great composure. When the sentence had
been recorded,
The Clerk of the Crown addressed the prisoner in the
usual form, and asked him what he had to say why sen-
tence of death should not be pronounced upon him ?
The prisoner now, for the first time gave vent to his
feelings. His utterance, whether from emotion or pas.
sion, it is impossible to say, was very imperfect and inco-
herent. He was certainly moved to tears, but there was
a vehemence in his manner that at times completely
stopped his utterance. As we understood him, he spoke
to the following effect:—" I have got one thing to say,
my Lord, that you will remember this night when sentence
is passed on me for death, and one day perhaps you would
find out who was guilty."
His LORDSHIP, who heard this sentence very imper-
fectly, understood it, we believe, to be intended as a
threat, and he asked what the prisoner said.
Mr. Brett, one of the counsel for the prosecution,
repeated the substance of what the prisoner had said to
his Lordship; but did not give the latter portion of the
sentence in the words used by the prisoner. His inter-
pretation was that the prisoner said his Lordship would
one day find that he (the prisoner) was not guilty.
The prisoner continued, though his utterance was
becoming more unintelligible and incoherent as his ex-
citement increased, "The man that sends a human being
brought in guilty,—innocent to the world, because I had
a watch claimed to belong to parties who are dead and
gone,—but to say to be brought in as a criminal standing
here—innocent before the world—one day, my Lord,
perhaps it will be proved before the Almighty God—
perhaps those who brought me in guilty will be judged
another day. I leave them to God, and I pray to God
from my heart to pardon them, and I'll die manfully
foment the world."

This last expression was uttered with great energy, and
somewhat of braggadocia.
His LORDSHIP, who had put on the black cap, inter-
rupted the prisoner, who seemed inclined to say something
more, and proceeded to address him.—Anything you have
to say, I shall be glad to hear, but you had better not
proceed in the manner in which you have done.

The Prisoner continued to utter incoherent sentences
about his innocence, and being exposed as a poor criminal
now condemned to death.

He was at length silenced, and
His LORDSHIP, in passing sentence, addressed him
thus :—John Gleeson Wilson, you have been tried, and
you have had a very patient and attentive and calm trial.
The facts have been brought forward, and have been given
in evidence in a manner which is very rarely the case—
that everything in connexion being so clearly traced as it
has been on this occasion, no man living who has heard
this trial can have the slightest doubt that those unfortu-
nate persons fell by your hands. You have been tried for
the murder of Mary Parr, and it is quite clear you killed
not only her, but Mrs. Henrichson, and her two unoffend-
ing children. There is no doubt about it. Nobody can
have the slightest doubt who heard the evidence.
The Prisoner here began to be very much excited, and
interrupted his Lordship—when silence was restored,
His LORDSHIP continued : You had better not conduct
yourself in the way in which you were just now doing, but
attend to what I say. Your days are numbered ; there is
no hope for you of mercy at all on this side of the grave.
You must suffer, the extreme penalty of the law for the
very sad and atrocious offence which you have committel
You have sent four persons out of the world, all of a sud-
den ; two of them grown up persons, with all their sins,
if they had any, upon their heads, and two of them little
innocents. hardly old enough—one of them certainly not
old enough—to have committed a sin. It is for you now
to apply yourself, for the short remaining period of your
life, with all such assistance as 1 am sure will be most
kindly given to you in the gaol by the chaplain, to prepare
yourself to meet your God. (The prisoner again became
restive, and seemed desirous of speaking, but was re-
strained.) Ido not pretend to say you may not have
mercy. I cannot look at your heart, nor can I tell whether
there will be sincere repentance there at all, or whether
you will appeal to Him for pardon through the merits of
the Saviour or not. I can only earnestly implore you to
do so, for there is no possibility, as far as I can see, that
your life can be spared. If such an offence as this were
not to be punished with the extreme severity of the law,
there would be no security whatever for the lives of her
Majesty's subjects. And the laws of this land have dis-
tinctly provided that persons who are guilty of murder
shall be punished, and it is not in the power of the judge,
who, after all, is but the instrument of the law—it is not
in my power to hold out to you any possibility of your not
suffering that extreme punishment; and, therefore, I once
more earnestly exhort you that you will employ the few
remaining weeks or days of your life in seeking for that
pardon at the hands of the Almighty which human laws
cannot afford you. It only remains that I shall pass on
you the awful sentence of the law, which is that you be
taken from hence to the place from whence you came,
and that you be there hanged by the neck until you are
dead, and that your body be buried within the precincts
of the prison ; and I pray God to have mercy on your
soul. _ _

The Prisoner, in a loud and confident tone, exclaimed,
"He has mercy already my lord." He was then removed
from the bar: A rush was then made from the crowded
court, and the result of the trial was made known outside
the court, where an immense concourse of people had
congregated. When it was known that sentence of death
had been recorded against Wilson a loud shout rent the
air, and must have grated harshly on the ears of the con-
vict, as he passed through the dock. The Court was
deserted in a few minutes, and as Mr. Justice Patteson
got into his carriage and was driven to his lodgings he
was loudly cheered by those who had assembled outside
the court.
The trial terminated at nine o'clock.

During the progress of the trial, the little trinket box
belonging to Mrs. Henrichson, which had been broken
open and ransacked, was produced. In it was found a
locket with a miniature of Capt. Henrichson. This locket
was inspected by a number of persons in the court.
The conduct of the prisoner throughout the trial was
quite in character with that which he has displayed since
his apprehension. In his calmer moments he looked un-
concernedly about him, there being apparently a total
absence of all feeling. When excited he puts on a look
of great fury. That he is a man of strong and ungovern-
able passions his public displays in court leave little doubt.
He was greatly excited when the crowd hissed him as lie
turned to leave the dock during the temporary absence of
the Judge; but it seems to have been a transient feeling,
for, on going below stairs, he greedily devoured two large
pieces of bread of nearly a pound weight each. When
placed at the bar again, he was finishing his meal, and
wiped his mouth with his handkerchief. The observation
of the witness Moore, " handsome men have many ad-
mirers," created a laugh in court, in which the prisoner
heartily joined, covering his month with his hand to con-
ceal the smile. A remark by another of the witnesses,
that his trousers were once white, appeared also to tickle
the fancy of the prisoner, as he laughed at this. When
Mr. Oswin, the shoemaker, said he could identify the
boots, if he saw them, which the prisoner bought from
him, it was stated that the prisoner had the boots then on
his feet. He was ordered to take them off. It is, perhaps,

not generally known that this piece of evidence ^was ob-
tained after the committal of the prisoner, and that he
could not be aware it would be produced against him.
When he was before the coroner it was stated that when
he was seen leaving Leveson-street, he had on Wellington
boots. The coroner desired him to show what kind of
boots he had then on, and the prisoner seemed very
anxious that all in the court should see the boots he had
on were only half boots. The evidence of the sale of the
Wellington boots and the purchase of the short ones, was
therefore calculated to annoy him, and before he consented
to take off his boots, as directed, he leant over the dock

and asked Mr. Pollock, his counsel, if he should do so.
Mr. Pollock, replied,—" You had better do as you are
told." He then took off his boot and handed it to the
counsel, put it on again, and again took it off when re-
quired, at the same time winking to a person who stood
on the opposite side of the court. When a witness
talked of the pint of gin at Mr. Samuel's shop,
the prisoner also laughed, and whilst the Judge was
delivering his charge, he refreshed himself with a draught
of water, which was handed to him in a large white jug,
upon which the officer kept an eye whilst it was in the
hand of the prisoner. On leaving the Sessions'-house,
the prisoner was again taken through the bridewell and
passed along the tunnel to High-street, where a car was
in waiting to convey him back to Kirkdale gaol. Whilst
he remained in the police office, he remarked that he did
not care for being hung, seeing that he was innocent, and
he spoke very lightly of the position in which he was
placed.

CONDUCT OF THE PRISONER SINCE HIS CONVICTION. I
On Wednesday night, as the murderer was being re-
moved from the dock to the Bridewell by the subterraneous
communication that exists, after sentence of death had
been pronounced upon him, he heard the cheering of the
mob outside, and appeared very much annoyed and
excited by it; " tl—n them," he exclaimed. " I wish I
was amongst them !" He kept reiterating to the officers
in attendance that he had been innocently condemned,
but said be did not care for death. He assumes an
apparent levity in prison, but exhibits the most peaceable
demeanour. On Thursday evening, he expressed a wish
to have his original clothes restored to him. The wish
was complied with, and Wright, one of the turnkeys of
the gaol, obtained them at the central office, signing a
receipt for them in the usual form. The trousers, whichstill bear light stains of blood, are said particularly to
please him ; and, he remarked, with grim jocularity, to
one of his attendants, that it was a great pity he could
not wear out such nice articles. He is kept, of course, in
the condemned cell, and a turnkey is present with him
day and night. Oa Wednesday night, he took up a
prayer-book which was lying in his cell, and then cast it
down again, with an exclamation that he "did not care
a d—n for life."
At his request, a letter, dictated by him, has been
written to his father. It acquaints him with the sen-
tence, and protests that he is perfectly innocent of the
murders for which he is doomed to suffer. He pleads to
the turnkeys, too, his innocence, and says that the autho-
rities have got the wrong man 1
The day of execution is not yet fixed : if the usual
course be followed, it will not take place till Saturday
fortnight. A rumour was prevalent in town, on Friday,
that the prisoner had made an attempt upon his life ;
there is no foundation whatever for the statement.
Many parties have been to the gaol, very anxiously beg-
ging permission to see the prisoner ; but, of course, none
of these have been admitted.
We have, on a former occasion, given the prisoner's
biography, or, at all events, detailed the leading circum-
stances of his life. His real name is Maurice Gleeson.
He is the son of a blacksmith, and was born at a place
calla d Brurie, about nine miles from Limerick. David
Gleeson, his father, is a drunken, dissipated character,
and that vice is said to have characterised all the mem-

hers of his family. The prisoner was brought up as a
blacksmith, with his father, but left home about two
years ar.d a half ago, being then charged with a robbery.
He was subsequently employed as a striker at a foundry
in Plymouth, lived afterwards in London, and reached
this town, the sad scene of his atrocities, about fifteen
months ago. He was never known to work whilst here,
but married a female who kept a lodging-house in
Sparling-street. His brutality was such, however, that
they were soon separated, through the intervention of her
parents. The sad sequel of his history is, unfortunately,
but too well known.

CAPTAIN HENITICHSON.-It is generally known that
Captain Henrichson, the husband of the late Mrs. Hen-
richson, is in the employ of Messrs. James Aikin and
Son; and, at the time of the committal of the atrocious
act, he was on a voyage, as master of the Duncan, to the
East Indies. Arrangements had been made, upon the
Duncan entering the river, to communicate to Captain
Henrichson that he must be prepared to expect, upon his
arrival, to hear domestic news of a painfully distressing
nature, not, however, stating any of the circumstances
relative to the late tragedy. With this object, the Rev.
William Pollock, of whose congregation, we believe,
Captain Henrichson and his late lady were members,
wrote a letter in which religious consolation suitable to
the occasion was contained. Of this letter twelve copies
were made, which were given to as many pilots, to be
handed, by whoever should board the Duncan, to Captain
Henrichson. From the captain of a vessel which arrived
at this port the other day, and who, on his way, put in at
St. Helena, we learn that the Liverpool papers had con-
veyed the whole of the particulars of the murder to that
island, and that the atrocities of it were the topic of
general conversation. At the time this captain left
there, nothing had been heard of the Duncau ; but she
will in all likelihood call there, and there doubtlessly will
Captain Henrichson learn the sad tidings which so deeply
affect himself.