DOI Heft:
January to June, 1845
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16521#0147
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. I«
LIBERAL REWARD.
=™™=szQ BVAED, Karl of Ellen-
borough, has pre-
sented a fine sword
to Sir Charles
Napier, Governor
of Scinde, Sir
Charles's own
weapon being, no
doubt, worn out in
cutting down the
enemy at Hyder-
abad and Meeanee.
As Edward,
Earl of Ellen-
BORoran, thus ge-
nerously rewards
the officer who
pained his Lord-
ship's victories in
India, let us hope
he will pay a compliment to those who fought his battles at home.
Lord Brougham is looking out for something handsome.
THE HANGMAN'S ' MORAL LESSONS."
The world has a great loss in the early execution of Tawell.
That world which, day after day, has looked for " the Salt-Hill mur-
der " with an interest and curiosity scarcely awakened by the
chronicler of the Court Circular; which has not felt itself quite at ease
until assured of the kind of night passed by the assassin ; whether
he slept much or little ; and whether, on rising for the day, he par- j dusted for to-morrows service.'
tion " of his guilt. The more we know of the pettiest doings of a
murderer, the greater our horror of murder ! Our virtue is marvel-
lously strengthened by the gossip of the condemned cell.
It would not accord with the " ends of justice," or the wounded
dignity of human nature, to cast a veil over the miserable homicide
from the moment of his conviction until the final expiation of his
crime. Gh, no ! we must have the daily chit-chat of the gaol. Such
knowledge is a tonic to the world's goodness. And when the exe-
cution comes, certain worthy people, like the Gravesend piigrims
noticed in our last, travel to the gallows, that their virtue may be
further sweetened by the dying breath of the murderer.
The crime, too, in proportion to its fiend-like wickedness, casts a
peculiar interest about the evil-doer. Murder may be a poor, small,
sneak-up crime, almost unworthy of the quill of the penny-a-liner.
It may, too, assume a dignity and importance that, in his inspiration,
shall astonish even him with new eloquence ; now breathing words
of fire, and now dropping syllables of honey.
We are told that, in the case of Tawell, the governor of the
gaol refused the proffered assistance of several convicts, desirous of
trying their " 'prentice hand " on the culprit at Aylesbury, and
resolved—
" Contrary to his original intention, upon having the assistance of Calcraft, il
order that no unjorlunate occurrence shall attend the exit of one lo whom public
attention is so earnestly and generally directed."
Had Tawell been a small, very plebeian murderer, he might
have been consigned to an amateur Jack Ketch. But no ; the great-
ness of his atrocity had secured him a right to the very best pro-
fessional assistance, although in the end the poor wretch was cruelly
dealt with by the dullards in authority.
The writer, whom we have just quoted, next dilates upon the
gallows itself—eloquently, tenderly :
" The gallows, which has not been in requisition since one Thomas Bate was hung
f. r murder on the 3lst of March, 1S37, needs but little fitting and adjustment. Its huge
black members have been brought from their obscure resting-place, and examined and
took of breakfast with his wonted gusto, or delicately dallied with
his tea and toast; whether his dinner was served him from an Ayles-
bury inn, or the prison kitchen ; whether he read or wrote ; whether
he spoke much, or was taciturn ; whether his spirits were placid and
hopeful; or whether, in sooth, they desponded to the death.
The world, we say, has been too suddenly deprived of a subject of
absorbing and most humanising interest, by the mortal manipulation
of hangman Calcraft. The murderer, yet living, was made by
the industry and benevolence of the press, a dainty daily dish to set
before a most thinking public. L'appetit vient en mangeant. Every
day brought with it a new relish to all matters, real and apocryphal,
associated with the blood-shedder. For how many weeks have cer-
tain ingenious, industrious scribes, like the king of old, lived on
poison ! How have certain artists, to create and meet the public
appetite, tried to paint the moral Ethiop a still deeper black ; how
have old iniquities, done by certain unknown somebodies, been
sought out, and for a time been very confidently tried upon Tawell,
as assuredly belonging to him ; and then ingenuously cast aside, con-
fessed to be misfits ? For a time, he was a sort of criminal dummy,
on which any imagined wickedness might be hung. His first wife
and sons died suddenly : they must have been poisoned by the hus-
band and father ! Oh no ! their illness was lingering, and was
watched by the most skilful physicians. Some years ago, a rogue in
Quaker's drab cheated somebody in Cornwall: no doubt the rogue
was Tawell. The somebody having, by the grace of the Pictorial
Times, seen Tawell's portrait—travels, it may be from the Land's-
End, to confront the original at Aylesbury. No : again a mistake.
Tawell is not to be seen ; but it is proved that the Cornish rascal
wrote a large, bold hand ; whereas the murderer's calligraphy is
small and delicate, and he is therefore judged to be not the man.
All this, however, is of no matter. The blacking of yesterday is
rubbed off, only to admit of new blacking to-day. It is necessary,
for a great moral purpose, that the homicide should be kept continu-
ally in the world's eye ; the world expects it, and naturally looks
for some new particulars : every morning yearns for such relish
with its breakfast bacon.
And after such fashion are we taught a horror of blood-shedding !
We are called into the cell of the assassin ; we are required to give
earnest attention to his every look—his every syllable—to note down
the cut and colour of his clothes ; to chronicle in our memory what
he sats and what he drinks,—that we may, with all our heart and all
otu soul, the more intensely loathe and abominate the " deep damna-
It is a great satisfaction—a great relief to an enlightened public,
wrought beyond itself by a most laudable curiosity, to know that the
gallows " is dusted !" We doubt not there are many enthusiast*
who would treasure the duster, enriched with such interesting
particles !
The gallows chronicler proceeds : —
" Two upright beams slip into iron fastenings at each end, and a cross-beam connects
them. Upon the surface of this sturdy rail are three indentations, made by the ropes
by which former malefactors have been hung. The equal distances between these bruises
on the wood were regulated by chalk-marks, which still remain. The centre inequality
on the face of the gallows-tree was made many years ago by a man of enormous weight,
who was hung for sheep-stealing."
It is something for the world to know all this. They are savoury
tit-bits of gossip, that whet and give a zest to the public appetite,
hungry for a hanging. The world, however, has been well supplied
of late with the great moral examples said to blossom on the
gallows. Sir James Grahaji, with a benevolence that endears him
to the country, and will hallow his name in its history, especially
chooses the day of a great Christian holiday for an execution. On
the two past Easter Mondays has he hanged a man, doubtless, with
the excellent intention of awakening in the minds of holiday-makers
a seriousness that shall healthfully act against the temptations of the
season. First Newgate, and then Greenwich Fair and Stepney !
The Times' reporter, speaking of the execution of Tapping, says—
"The large majority seemed to have made their pilgrimage to New-
gate the opening of a day's holiday ! " Excellent Sir James ! He
never neglects the pleasures of the people ! Turning the Times'
page, we next light upon two striking evidences of the great moral
example of hanging : for, at Guildhall, a lad, named Richard Lee,
is arraigned for stealing a silk handkerchief " while looking at the
hanging corpse;" and Jacob Lazams, aged 26', is charged with
filching an eye-glass " under the same circumstances." Truly, we
think such pilfering shows the hangman to be a great moral teacher.
Tawell was, it seems, executed in his Quaker dress. It has been
said that the body of Friends petitioned against his assumption of
their garb upon the scaffold. If true, we think they betrayed a sen-
sitiveness unworthy of their high and simple character. Whilst,
however, we do all honour to their many noble and virtuous qualities,
we do not wholly sympathise with that alacrity which prompts them
to the renunciation of an erring brother. A sect obtains a reputa-
tion for goodness somewhat cheaply, if it inexorably cuts off every
J transgression; member.
LIBERAL REWARD.
=™™=szQ BVAED, Karl of Ellen-
borough, has pre-
sented a fine sword
to Sir Charles
Napier, Governor
of Scinde, Sir
Charles's own
weapon being, no
doubt, worn out in
cutting down the
enemy at Hyder-
abad and Meeanee.
As Edward,
Earl of Ellen-
BORoran, thus ge-
nerously rewards
the officer who
pained his Lord-
ship's victories in
India, let us hope
he will pay a compliment to those who fought his battles at home.
Lord Brougham is looking out for something handsome.
THE HANGMAN'S ' MORAL LESSONS."
The world has a great loss in the early execution of Tawell.
That world which, day after day, has looked for " the Salt-Hill mur-
der " with an interest and curiosity scarcely awakened by the
chronicler of the Court Circular; which has not felt itself quite at ease
until assured of the kind of night passed by the assassin ; whether
he slept much or little ; and whether, on rising for the day, he par- j dusted for to-morrows service.'
tion " of his guilt. The more we know of the pettiest doings of a
murderer, the greater our horror of murder ! Our virtue is marvel-
lously strengthened by the gossip of the condemned cell.
It would not accord with the " ends of justice," or the wounded
dignity of human nature, to cast a veil over the miserable homicide
from the moment of his conviction until the final expiation of his
crime. Gh, no ! we must have the daily chit-chat of the gaol. Such
knowledge is a tonic to the world's goodness. And when the exe-
cution comes, certain worthy people, like the Gravesend piigrims
noticed in our last, travel to the gallows, that their virtue may be
further sweetened by the dying breath of the murderer.
The crime, too, in proportion to its fiend-like wickedness, casts a
peculiar interest about the evil-doer. Murder may be a poor, small,
sneak-up crime, almost unworthy of the quill of the penny-a-liner.
It may, too, assume a dignity and importance that, in his inspiration,
shall astonish even him with new eloquence ; now breathing words
of fire, and now dropping syllables of honey.
We are told that, in the case of Tawell, the governor of the
gaol refused the proffered assistance of several convicts, desirous of
trying their " 'prentice hand " on the culprit at Aylesbury, and
resolved—
" Contrary to his original intention, upon having the assistance of Calcraft, il
order that no unjorlunate occurrence shall attend the exit of one lo whom public
attention is so earnestly and generally directed."
Had Tawell been a small, very plebeian murderer, he might
have been consigned to an amateur Jack Ketch. But no ; the great-
ness of his atrocity had secured him a right to the very best pro-
fessional assistance, although in the end the poor wretch was cruelly
dealt with by the dullards in authority.
The writer, whom we have just quoted, next dilates upon the
gallows itself—eloquently, tenderly :
" The gallows, which has not been in requisition since one Thomas Bate was hung
f. r murder on the 3lst of March, 1S37, needs but little fitting and adjustment. Its huge
black members have been brought from their obscure resting-place, and examined and
took of breakfast with his wonted gusto, or delicately dallied with
his tea and toast; whether his dinner was served him from an Ayles-
bury inn, or the prison kitchen ; whether he read or wrote ; whether
he spoke much, or was taciturn ; whether his spirits were placid and
hopeful; or whether, in sooth, they desponded to the death.
The world, we say, has been too suddenly deprived of a subject of
absorbing and most humanising interest, by the mortal manipulation
of hangman Calcraft. The murderer, yet living, was made by
the industry and benevolence of the press, a dainty daily dish to set
before a most thinking public. L'appetit vient en mangeant. Every
day brought with it a new relish to all matters, real and apocryphal,
associated with the blood-shedder. For how many weeks have cer-
tain ingenious, industrious scribes, like the king of old, lived on
poison ! How have certain artists, to create and meet the public
appetite, tried to paint the moral Ethiop a still deeper black ; how
have old iniquities, done by certain unknown somebodies, been
sought out, and for a time been very confidently tried upon Tawell,
as assuredly belonging to him ; and then ingenuously cast aside, con-
fessed to be misfits ? For a time, he was a sort of criminal dummy,
on which any imagined wickedness might be hung. His first wife
and sons died suddenly : they must have been poisoned by the hus-
band and father ! Oh no ! their illness was lingering, and was
watched by the most skilful physicians. Some years ago, a rogue in
Quaker's drab cheated somebody in Cornwall: no doubt the rogue
was Tawell. The somebody having, by the grace of the Pictorial
Times, seen Tawell's portrait—travels, it may be from the Land's-
End, to confront the original at Aylesbury. No : again a mistake.
Tawell is not to be seen ; but it is proved that the Cornish rascal
wrote a large, bold hand ; whereas the murderer's calligraphy is
small and delicate, and he is therefore judged to be not the man.
All this, however, is of no matter. The blacking of yesterday is
rubbed off, only to admit of new blacking to-day. It is necessary,
for a great moral purpose, that the homicide should be kept continu-
ally in the world's eye ; the world expects it, and naturally looks
for some new particulars : every morning yearns for such relish
with its breakfast bacon.
And after such fashion are we taught a horror of blood-shedding !
We are called into the cell of the assassin ; we are required to give
earnest attention to his every look—his every syllable—to note down
the cut and colour of his clothes ; to chronicle in our memory what
he sats and what he drinks,—that we may, with all our heart and all
otu soul, the more intensely loathe and abominate the " deep damna-
It is a great satisfaction—a great relief to an enlightened public,
wrought beyond itself by a most laudable curiosity, to know that the
gallows " is dusted !" We doubt not there are many enthusiast*
who would treasure the duster, enriched with such interesting
particles !
The gallows chronicler proceeds : —
" Two upright beams slip into iron fastenings at each end, and a cross-beam connects
them. Upon the surface of this sturdy rail are three indentations, made by the ropes
by which former malefactors have been hung. The equal distances between these bruises
on the wood were regulated by chalk-marks, which still remain. The centre inequality
on the face of the gallows-tree was made many years ago by a man of enormous weight,
who was hung for sheep-stealing."
It is something for the world to know all this. They are savoury
tit-bits of gossip, that whet and give a zest to the public appetite,
hungry for a hanging. The world, however, has been well supplied
of late with the great moral examples said to blossom on the
gallows. Sir James Grahaji, with a benevolence that endears him
to the country, and will hallow his name in its history, especially
chooses the day of a great Christian holiday for an execution. On
the two past Easter Mondays has he hanged a man, doubtless, with
the excellent intention of awakening in the minds of holiday-makers
a seriousness that shall healthfully act against the temptations of the
season. First Newgate, and then Greenwich Fair and Stepney !
The Times' reporter, speaking of the execution of Tapping, says—
"The large majority seemed to have made their pilgrimage to New-
gate the opening of a day's holiday ! " Excellent Sir James ! He
never neglects the pleasures of the people ! Turning the Times'
page, we next light upon two striking evidences of the great moral
example of hanging : for, at Guildhall, a lad, named Richard Lee,
is arraigned for stealing a silk handkerchief " while looking at the
hanging corpse;" and Jacob Lazams, aged 26', is charged with
filching an eye-glass " under the same circumstances." Truly, we
think such pilfering shows the hangman to be a great moral teacher.
Tawell was, it seems, executed in his Quaker dress. It has been
said that the body of Friends petitioned against his assumption of
their garb upon the scaffold. If true, we think they betrayed a sen-
sitiveness unworthy of their high and simple character. Whilst,
however, we do all honour to their many noble and virtuous qualities,
we do not wholly sympathise with that alacrity which prompts them
to the renunciation of an erring brother. A sect obtains a reputa-
tion for goodness somewhat cheaply, if it inexorably cuts off every
J transgression; member.