November 29, 1890.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 263
THE MODERN HERO;
Or, Sow to Discourage Crime.
Henby Labbiktn, who was recently convicted and sentenced to
death for the murder of a nursemaid and infant on Shooter's Hill,
is now confined in-Gaol, and is reported to be in excellent
spirits. He passes his time in illuminating texts, which he presents
to the Governor and Warders, and some of which have been disposed
of for enormous sums. A petition has been circulated, and exten-
sively signed, praying for a remission of his sentence, on the ground
of provocation, it having since transpired that the infant put out
its tongue in passing. Several Jurymen have said, that had this
fact been brought before them at the trial, they would, have returned
a very different verdict. Much sympathy is expressed with Laebikin,
who is quite a young man. He expresses himself as sanguine of a
reprieve.
Centbal News Telegeam.—Latee Intelligence.
Monday.—Laebikin was informed this afternoon, by the Governor
of the Gaol, that the Home Secretary saw no grounds for inter-
fering with the course of the Law, and that the sentence would
consequently be carried out on Friday next. Two of the Warders,
with whom Laebikin is a great favourite, on account of the
affability and singular modesty of his demeanour, were deeply
affected, but the prisoner himself bore the news with extraordinary
fortitude and composure. His sole comment upon the intelligence
was, that it was "just his blooming luck." By special favour of
the Authorities he is allowed to see the comments of the Press upon
his case, in which he takes the keenest interest. A statement that
he had on one occasion been introduced to the nursemaid, through
whom his career has been so tragically cut short, has caused him
the deepest irritation. He wishes it to be distinctly understood
that both she and her infant charge were absolute strangers to him.
Latee Telegeam.
Wednesday Morning.—Laebikin continues wonderfully calm.
He is writing his Memoirs, which he has already disposed of to a
Newspaper Syndicate for a handsome consideration. Those who
have been piivileged to see the manuscript report that it reveals
traces of unsuspected literary talent, and is marked in places by a
genial and genuine humour. Laebikin's great regret is that he
will be unable to have an opportunity of perusing the press-notices
and reviews of this his first essay in authorship, for which he expects
a wide popularity.
Feom a Special Cobeespondent.
Thursday.—To-day Laebikin received a visit from an old friend,
who was visibly moved during the interview, in spite of the
prisoner's efforts to console him. " There's nothing to snivel about,
old man," he said repeatedly, with a tranquil smile. He then in-
quired if it was true that there were portraits of him in several of
the papers, and was anxious to know if they were like him. He has
executed his will, leaving the copyright of his manuscript, his sole
assets, to his father, who has been in a comparatively humble
position of life, but who will now be raised to a condition of
affluence. The father has been interviewed, and stated to a reporter
thit he has been much gratified by the expressions of sympathy
which have been showered upon his son from all sides. This morning
a local florist sent Laebikln a beautiful wreath, in which the
prisoner's initials and those of his victims were tastefully inter-
twined in violets. Laebikin was much touched, and his eyes filled
with tears, which, however, he succeeded in repressing by a strong
effort. His self-control and courage are the admiration of the
officials, by whom he will be greatly missed. All day he has been
busy packing up the furniture with which, by special permission,
his little cell has been provided_ by his many admirers, and the in-
terior has already lost much of its late dainty and cosy appearance.
Laebikin has been whistling a good deal,—though, as the day wore
on, the tunes he executed became of a less lively character. Towards
evening, however, he recovered his ordinary high spirits, and even
danced a "cellar-flap" for the entertainment of his Warders. A
telegram has just been handed to him from an anonymous sender,
who is understood to be a person of some eminence in bird-Btnffing
circles, which contained these words—" You are to be hung on my
Aunt's silver-wedding day. Keep your pecker up." On reading this
message, Laebikin came more near to breaking down than he has
done hitherto. He has selected the clothes he is to wear on his last
semi-public appearance; they consist of a plain black Angora three-
button lounge coat, a purple velvet waistcoat, soft doeskin trousers,
a lay-down striped collar and dickey, and a light-blue necktie with
a glass pin. He has presented his only other jewellery—an oroide ring,
set with Bristol diamonds—to the Warder who has been most atten-
tive and devoted to him during his stay in gaol. He is said to have
stated that he freely forgave the infant whose insulting conduct pro-
voked his outburst, as he did the nursemaid for not restraining her
charge's vivacity. This intimation, at his express desire, will be
conveyed to the parents of the deceased, and will doubtless afford
them the highest consolation.
THE COUNTRY HOUSE.
(What Our Architect has to put up with.)
Fair Client. " I want it to be nice and babonial, Queen Anne
and Elizabethan, and all that ; kind of quaint and Nurem-
bergy, you know—regt7lab Old english. with french windows
opening to the lawn, and venitian blinds, and sobt of swiss
Balconies, and a Loggia. But I'm sure you know what I mean 1"
Thursday Night, Later.—Laebikin is sleeping peacefully. His
features—refined by the mental anxiety, and the almost monastic
seclusion to which he has been lately subjected—are extremely
pleasing, and even handsome, set-off as they are by the clean collar
which he has put on in anticipation of his approaching doom.
Before sinking into childlike slumber, he listened with evident
pleasure to a banjo which was being played outside a public-house
m the vicinity of the gaol. The banjoist is now being interviewed,
and believes that the air he must have been performing at the time
was " The Lost Chord." The scaffold on which the unfortunate
Laebikin is to expiate his imprudent act is now being erected, but
the workmen's hammers have been consideratelv covered with felt
to avoid disturbing the slumberer.
Friday Morning, 9 a.m.—All is now over. The prisoner rose
early and made a hearty breakfast, and plainly enjoyed the cigar
which he smoked afterwards with his friend the Governor, who
seemed to regard the entrance of the executioner as an untimely
interruption to the conversation. "You'll have to wait a bit for
the rest of that story, Governor," was Laebikin's light-hearted
comment. The unhappy man then—'- (Details follow which we
prefer to leave to the reader's imagination—he will find them all in
the very next special description of such a scene). Laebikin was
most anxious that it should be widely known that, in his own words,
" he was true to himself and the public, and game to the last."
Several reporters were present in the prison-yard, and also a
number of persons of distinction, who were only admitted as a great
favour. It is said that the prison Authorities were compelled to
disappoint thousands who had applied for permission to view the
last sad scene.
Labbikin's melancholy end will doubtless operate as a warning
and an example to many romantic youths, who are only too easily
led away by the morbid desire for notoriety, which is so prevalent
nowadays, and which is so difficult either to account for, or dis-
courage.— (Special Descriptive Meport.)
THE MODERN HERO;
Or, Sow to Discourage Crime.
Henby Labbiktn, who was recently convicted and sentenced to
death for the murder of a nursemaid and infant on Shooter's Hill,
is now confined in-Gaol, and is reported to be in excellent
spirits. He passes his time in illuminating texts, which he presents
to the Governor and Warders, and some of which have been disposed
of for enormous sums. A petition has been circulated, and exten-
sively signed, praying for a remission of his sentence, on the ground
of provocation, it having since transpired that the infant put out
its tongue in passing. Several Jurymen have said, that had this
fact been brought before them at the trial, they would, have returned
a very different verdict. Much sympathy is expressed with Laebikin,
who is quite a young man. He expresses himself as sanguine of a
reprieve.
Centbal News Telegeam.—Latee Intelligence.
Monday.—Laebikin was informed this afternoon, by the Governor
of the Gaol, that the Home Secretary saw no grounds for inter-
fering with the course of the Law, and that the sentence would
consequently be carried out on Friday next. Two of the Warders,
with whom Laebikin is a great favourite, on account of the
affability and singular modesty of his demeanour, were deeply
affected, but the prisoner himself bore the news with extraordinary
fortitude and composure. His sole comment upon the intelligence
was, that it was "just his blooming luck." By special favour of
the Authorities he is allowed to see the comments of the Press upon
his case, in which he takes the keenest interest. A statement that
he had on one occasion been introduced to the nursemaid, through
whom his career has been so tragically cut short, has caused him
the deepest irritation. He wishes it to be distinctly understood
that both she and her infant charge were absolute strangers to him.
Latee Telegeam.
Wednesday Morning.—Laebikin continues wonderfully calm.
He is writing his Memoirs, which he has already disposed of to a
Newspaper Syndicate for a handsome consideration. Those who
have been piivileged to see the manuscript report that it reveals
traces of unsuspected literary talent, and is marked in places by a
genial and genuine humour. Laebikin's great regret is that he
will be unable to have an opportunity of perusing the press-notices
and reviews of this his first essay in authorship, for which he expects
a wide popularity.
Feom a Special Cobeespondent.
Thursday.—To-day Laebikin received a visit from an old friend,
who was visibly moved during the interview, in spite of the
prisoner's efforts to console him. " There's nothing to snivel about,
old man," he said repeatedly, with a tranquil smile. He then in-
quired if it was true that there were portraits of him in several of
the papers, and was anxious to know if they were like him. He has
executed his will, leaving the copyright of his manuscript, his sole
assets, to his father, who has been in a comparatively humble
position of life, but who will now be raised to a condition of
affluence. The father has been interviewed, and stated to a reporter
thit he has been much gratified by the expressions of sympathy
which have been showered upon his son from all sides. This morning
a local florist sent Laebikln a beautiful wreath, in which the
prisoner's initials and those of his victims were tastefully inter-
twined in violets. Laebikin was much touched, and his eyes filled
with tears, which, however, he succeeded in repressing by a strong
effort. His self-control and courage are the admiration of the
officials, by whom he will be greatly missed. All day he has been
busy packing up the furniture with which, by special permission,
his little cell has been provided_ by his many admirers, and the in-
terior has already lost much of its late dainty and cosy appearance.
Laebikin has been whistling a good deal,—though, as the day wore
on, the tunes he executed became of a less lively character. Towards
evening, however, he recovered his ordinary high spirits, and even
danced a "cellar-flap" for the entertainment of his Warders. A
telegram has just been handed to him from an anonymous sender,
who is understood to be a person of some eminence in bird-Btnffing
circles, which contained these words—" You are to be hung on my
Aunt's silver-wedding day. Keep your pecker up." On reading this
message, Laebikin came more near to breaking down than he has
done hitherto. He has selected the clothes he is to wear on his last
semi-public appearance; they consist of a plain black Angora three-
button lounge coat, a purple velvet waistcoat, soft doeskin trousers,
a lay-down striped collar and dickey, and a light-blue necktie with
a glass pin. He has presented his only other jewellery—an oroide ring,
set with Bristol diamonds—to the Warder who has been most atten-
tive and devoted to him during his stay in gaol. He is said to have
stated that he freely forgave the infant whose insulting conduct pro-
voked his outburst, as he did the nursemaid for not restraining her
charge's vivacity. This intimation, at his express desire, will be
conveyed to the parents of the deceased, and will doubtless afford
them the highest consolation.
THE COUNTRY HOUSE.
(What Our Architect has to put up with.)
Fair Client. " I want it to be nice and babonial, Queen Anne
and Elizabethan, and all that ; kind of quaint and Nurem-
bergy, you know—regt7lab Old english. with french windows
opening to the lawn, and venitian blinds, and sobt of swiss
Balconies, and a Loggia. But I'm sure you know what I mean 1"
Thursday Night, Later.—Laebikin is sleeping peacefully. His
features—refined by the mental anxiety, and the almost monastic
seclusion to which he has been lately subjected—are extremely
pleasing, and even handsome, set-off as they are by the clean collar
which he has put on in anticipation of his approaching doom.
Before sinking into childlike slumber, he listened with evident
pleasure to a banjo which was being played outside a public-house
m the vicinity of the gaol. The banjoist is now being interviewed,
and believes that the air he must have been performing at the time
was " The Lost Chord." The scaffold on which the unfortunate
Laebikin is to expiate his imprudent act is now being erected, but
the workmen's hammers have been consideratelv covered with felt
to avoid disturbing the slumberer.
Friday Morning, 9 a.m.—All is now over. The prisoner rose
early and made a hearty breakfast, and plainly enjoyed the cigar
which he smoked afterwards with his friend the Governor, who
seemed to regard the entrance of the executioner as an untimely
interruption to the conversation. "You'll have to wait a bit for
the rest of that story, Governor," was Laebikin's light-hearted
comment. The unhappy man then—'- (Details follow which we
prefer to leave to the reader's imagination—he will find them all in
the very next special description of such a scene). Laebikin was
most anxious that it should be widely known that, in his own words,
" he was true to himself and the public, and game to the last."
Several reporters were present in the prison-yard, and also a
number of persons of distinction, who were only admitted as a great
favour. It is said that the prison Authorities were compelled to
disappoint thousands who had applied for permission to view the
last sad scene.
Labbikin's melancholy end will doubtless operate as a warning
and an example to many romantic youths, who are only too easily
led away by the morbid desire for notoriety, which is so prevalent
nowadays, and which is so difficult either to account for, or dis-
courage.— (Special Descriptive Meport.)
Werk/Gegenstand/Objekt
Titel
Titel/Objekt
Punch
Weitere Titel/Paralleltitel
Serientitel
Punch
Sachbegriff/Objekttyp
Inschrift/Wasserzeichen
Aufbewahrung/Standort
Aufbewahrungsort/Standort (GND)
Inv. Nr./Signatur
H 634-3 Folio
Objektbeschreibung
Maß-/Formatangaben
Auflage/Druckzustand
Werktitel/Werkverzeichnis
Herstellung/Entstehung
Künstler/Urheber/Hersteller (GND)
Entstehungsdatum
um 1890
Entstehungsdatum (normiert)
1880 - 1900
Entstehungsort (GND)
Auftrag
Publikation
Fund/Ausgrabung
Provenienz
Restaurierung
Sammlung Eingang
Ausstellung
Bearbeitung/Umgestaltung
Thema/Bildinhalt
Thema/Bildinhalt (GND)
Literaturangabe
Rechte am Objekt
Aufnahmen/Reproduktionen
Künstler/Urheber (GND)
Reproduktionstyp
Digitales Bild
Rechtsstatus
Public Domain Mark 1.0
Creditline
Punch, 99.1890, November 29, 1890, S. 263
Beziehungen
Erschließung
Lizenz
CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication
Rechteinhaber
Universitätsbibliothek Heidelberg