ELIZABETH FENNING. EXECUTED FOR ATTEMPTING TO POISON A FAMILY.

THE extraordinary interest taken by the public in this case at the time of its occurrence induces us to give it at considerable length, in order that its weight and bearings may be justly appreciated and considered. The propriety of the conviction of the unfortunate young woman was much questioned; and upon a careful perusal of its circumstances we think that at the least it must be concluded that the case was attended with considerable doubt.

It appears that Elizabeth Fenning was born in the island of Dominica, in the West Indies, on the 10th of June, 1793. Her father, William Fenning, was a native of Suffolk, and belonged to the first battalion of the 15th regiment of infantry. Her mother was a native of Cork, in Ireland: her parents were respectable, and she was married to Fenning in 1787, in her native town, where the regiment had been quartered. In 1790 they sailed from the Cove of Cork for the island of Barbadoes, and from thence to Dominica.

In 1796 or 1797 the regiment came home, having suffered great mortality, and were quartered in Dublin. In 1802 Fenning solicited and obtained his discharge, with a certificate of his good character, which it appears he merited, as he rose to the rank of a non-commissioned officer; and he then came to London, and entered the service of his brother, a potato-dealer in Red Lion-street, Holborn, with whom he continued for three years, and afterwards lived as servant in a potato-warehouse in Red Lion Passage, where his correct conduct gave satisfaction to three successive proprietors. His wife, for five years, worked for one upholsterer—a sufficient proof of her good conduct. They had ten children, all of whom, except the subject of this narrative, died young. At the age of fourteen, she was placed out in service to obtain her own living; and at the latter end of January, 1815, she was hired as cook in the family of a Mr. Orlibar Turner, at No. 68, Chancery-lane, where she had not been above seven weeks when circumstances unhappily arose which led to the poor creature’s being charged with an attempt to poison her master’s family.

The facts of the case will be best explained by the following report of the trial.

Eliza Fenning was indicted at the Old Bailey, April the 11th, 1815, for that she, on the 21st of March, feloniously and unlawfully did administer to, and cause to be administered to, Orlibar Turner, Robert Gregson Turner, and Charlotte Turner, his wife, certain deadly poison, (to wit, arsenic,) with intent the said persons to kill and murder.

The case was stated by Mr. Gurney; after which—

Mrs. Charlotte Turner deposed—I am the wife of Mr. Robert Gregson Turner, who is a law-stationer in Chancery-lane, in partnership with his father, Mr. Orlibar Turner, who lives at Lambeth. About seven weeks before the accident, the prisoner came into my service as cook; and about three weeks after, I had occasion to reprove her, for I observed her, one night, go into the young men’s room partly undressed. There were two young men, about seventeen or eighteen years old. I reproved her severely next morning for her conduct; and the excuse was, that she went in to fetch the candle. I threatened to discharge her, but on her expressing sorrow for the offence, I forgave her, and she remained in my employment. During the subsequent month, I observed that she failed to pay me that respect which I considered due to me, and she appeared extremely sullen. About a fortnight before the transaction now charged against her, she requested me to permit her to make some yeast dumplings, saying that she was a capital hand at it; and she frequently subsequently repeated the same request. On Monday the 20th of March, she came to me in the dining-room, and again asked me to allow her to make some dumplings, and said that the brewer had brought some yeast; and I said that as that was the case she might make the dumplings the next day, although that was not the way in which I usually had them made, as I generally had the dough from the baker’s. On Tuesday morning I went into the kitchen according to my custom, and I bade the prisoner make a beef-steak pie for the young men before she made the dumplings, and she carried the pie to the baker’s before kneading the dough. I gave her some directions as to the manner in which I liked the dumplings, and then went away. In about half-an-hour, however, I returned into the kitchen, and I then found the dough placed before the fire to rise. I have another servant in my employment named Sarah Peer, but I am certain that she could not have entered the kitchen during the time occupied in the preparation of the dumplings, as she was engaged by my direction in a bedroom mending a counterpane. I was subsequently in and out of the kitchen two or three times, and I observed that the dough did not rise. It was in a singular shape; and it remained heavy all the time. At about three o’clock we sat down to dinner, and there were six dumplings brought to table. I observed to Sarah Peer that they were black and heavy instead of their being white and light. My husband, Robert Gregson Turner, and his father, Orlibar Turner, sat down to dinner with me: I helped them to some dumplings, and took a small piece myself. I found myself affected in a few minutes after I had eaten it. I did not eat a quarter of a dumpling. I felt myself very faint—an excruciating pain, which increased every minute: it came so bad that I was obliged to leave the table—I went up stairs. I ate, beside the dumpling, a piece of rump-steak cooked by Eliza. When I was up stairs I perceived my sickness increased, and I observed my head was swollen extremely. I retched very violently: I was half an hour alone, and wondered they did not come to my assistance. I found my husband and father very ill—both of them. I was very ill from half-past-three until about nine; the violence then abated, but did not cease. My head and my tongue and chest were swollen. We called in a gentleman who was near, and afterwards Mr. Marshall, the surgeon. We applied for the nearest assistance we could get.

Cross-examined by Mr. Alley.—This happened about six weeks after the girl came to live with me. I have heard the prisoner herself was taken very ill.

Orlibar Turner deposed—I am the father of Robert Gregson Turner. On Tuesday, the 21st day of March, I was at my son’s house in Chancery-lane: I dined there. The dinner consisted of yeast dumplings, beef-steaks, and potatoes. After some time Mrs. Turner left the room indisposed. At the time she left the room I did not know she was ill. Sometime after my son left the room, and went down stairs. I followed him very shortly. I met my son in the passage at the foot of the stairs: he told me that he had been very sick, and had brought up his dinner. I found his eyes exceedingly swollen. I said I thought it very extraordinary, and I was taken ill myself in less than three minutes afterwards. The effect was so violent, I had hardly time to go into the back yard before my dinner came up. I felt considerable heat across my stomach and chest, and pain: I never experienced any vomiting before like it, for violence; it was terrible indeed. It was not more than a quarter of an hour when my apprentice, Roger Gadsden, was very ill, in a similar way to myself. While we were sick I was repeatedly in the parlour and the back yard. My son was up and down stairs at intervals; Gadsden, I believe, was in the kitchen below. The prisoner gave no assistance. We were all alarmed: but it was discovered that she did not appear concerned at our situation. I did not observe the prisoner eat any of the dumplings. I had a suspicion of arsenic, and made a search the next morning. I then observed in the pan, in which the dumplings had been mixed, that there was a white powder, unlike flour, and I retained it in my possession until I gave it into the hands of Mr. Marshall. Arsenic had been kept in the drawer in the office, tied up in a paper very tightly, and labelled “Arsenic, poison,” in large characters. I saw the parcel there on the 7th of March, but not since that time. It was missed about a fortnight before the 21st of March. The prisoner may have seen the parcel, as she usually resorted to the drawer for paper to light her fires. After dinner I remarked that the knives with which the dumplings had been cut had changed colour. They turned black and they still remain so. I spoke to the prisoner about the dumplings on the Wednesday, and I asked her how she came to put anything into them so hurtful, but she answered that it was not in anything which she had prepared, but in the milk which Sarah Peer had brought in, and with which her mistress had ordered her to make the sauce. That milk had been used in the sauce only. The dumplings had been mixed with the milk which had been left at breakfast.

Roger Gadsden said, I am an apprentice to Mr. Turner. I remember seeing the packet of arsenic in the drawer, and I missed it a day or two after the 7th of March. On Tuesday, the 21st of March, I went into the kitchen between three and four o’clock, and I observed a plate on the table, on which were a dumpling and a half. I had dined at two o’clock, but I took up a knife and fork, and was going to eat the dumpling, when the prisoner exclaimed, “Gadsden, do not eat that; it is cold and heavy; it will do you no good.” I ate a piece about the size of a walnut, and there being some sauce in the boat, I sopped it up with a piece of bread and ate it. I then went into the office, and Mr. Turner came there in about ten minutes after, and said he was very ill. About ten minutes after that I was taken ill, but not so ill as to vomit. I was sent off for Mr. Turner’s mother. I was very sick going and coming—I thought I should die. The prisoner had made yeast dumplings for supper the night before: I and Peer and the prisoner partook of them: they were quite different from these dumplings in point of colour and weight, and very good.

Margaret Turner sworn.—I was sent for. When I arrived I found my husband, son, and daughter, extremely ill. The prisoner, very soon after I was there, was ill, and vomiting. I exclaimed to her, “Oh, these devilish dumplings!” supposing they had done the mischief. She said, “Not the dumplings, but the milk, madam.” I asked her “What milk?” She said, “The halfpenny-worth of milk that Sally fetched, to make the sauce.” She said my daughter made the sauce. I said, “That cannot be; it could not be the sauce.” She said, “Yes; Gadsden ate a very little bit of dumpling, not bigger than a nut; but licked up three parts of a boat of sauce with a bit of bread.”

Mrs. Turner, jun., being called, said—“The sauce was made with the milk brought by Sarah Peer. I mixed it, and left it for her to make.”

Robert Gregson Turner sworn.—I partook of the dumplings at dinner; I ate none of the sauce whatever. Soon after dinner I was taken ill: I first felt an inclination to be sick; I then felt a strong heat across my chest. I was extremely sick; I was exactly as my father and wife were. I had eaten a dumpling and a half, and I suffered more than any other person. I should presume that the symptoms were such as would be produced by poison.

Sarah Peer sworn.—I have been servant to Mrs. Turner near eleven months. I recollect the warning given to the prisoner some time after she came. After that I heard her say she should not like Mr. or Mrs. Robert Turner any more. On the 21st of March I went for some milk after two o’clock, after I had dined with the prisoner on beef-steak pie. I had no concern whatever in making the dough for the dumplings, or in making the sauce. I was not in the kitchen when the dough was made: I never meddled with it, or put anything to it; I never was in the kitchen after I went up to make the beds, a quarter after eleven, until dinner time. I had permission to go out that afternoon, directly after I took up the dumplings. I went out directly. I came home at nine o’clock exactly. I ate none of the dumplings myself. In eating the beef-steak pie, I ate some of the crust. I was not at all ill. I had eaten some dumplings she had made the night before: I never tasted any better. They were all made out of the same flour. I had no difference with my mistress at any time.

Cross-examined by Mr. Alley.—I had occasionally quarrelled with the prisoner. I went sometimes to visit my friends, but it was generally on Sundays. I never went on a week-day except on this occasion. I know nothing of the drawer in which the arsenic was. The paper which I used for lighting fires was kept in the dining-room. I never went to the drawer in the office, nor did I ever see or hear of any poison being kept there.

An officer of Hatton Garden and the brewer’s man were then successively examined. The first proved that on his apprehending the prisoner, she declared that she thought the poison must have been in the yeast, as she saw a red settlement in it after she had used it, and the second stated that the yeast was good, and that he delivered it to the girl Peer.

Mr. John Marshall, a surgeon, was then sworn, and he stated that on his being called in to Mr. Orlibar Turner’s family he found them all labouring under symptoms of having taken arsenic, and that the prisoner was also ill, and exhibited similar symptoms. On the following day he saw a pan, and on his examining its contents he found them to contain arsenic. He had also examined the yeast which was left and the flour tub, and they were both devoid of arsenic. The poison being cut would blacken the knife.

The case for the prosecution being closed, the prisoner made the following defence:--

“I am truly innocent of the whole charge; I am innocent; indeed I am. I liked my place, and was very comfortable. Gadsden behaved improperly to me; my mistress came and saw me undressed; she said she did not like it; I said ‘Ma’am, it is Gadsden that has taken a liberty with me.’ The next morning I said, ‘I hope you do not think anything of what passed last night.’ She was in a great passion, and said she would not put up with it; I was to go away directly. I did not look upon Mrs. Turner as my mistress, but upon the old lady. In the evening the old lady came to town; I said, ‘I am going away to-night;’ Mrs. Turner said, ‘Do not think any more about it; I don’t.’ She asked Mrs. Robert Turner if she was willing for me to go. She said ‘No, she thought no more about it.’ As to my master saying I did not assist him, I was too ill. I had no concern with that drawer at all; when I wanted a piece of paper I always asked for it.”

The prisoner called five witnesses, who gave her an excellent character for integrity, sobriety, cheerfulness, and humanity. One of them was proceeding to state an accidental conversation which he had with the prisoner two days after she had ordered the yeast, wherein she declared herself happy and contented with her situation, and pleased with her master and mistress; but the recorder stopped him, saying it was not evidence.

Whilst the trial was proceeding, William Fenning, the father of the prisoner, went to a public-house, and got a person (for he was too agitated himself) to write on a slip of paper, that on the 21st of March he went to Mr. Turner’s, his daughter having sent for him in the morning, and that Sarah Peer told him Eliza had gone with a message for her mistress, whilst, at the same time, she was in agonies below-stairs from the effect of having eaten of the dumplings. He then went home, and thought no more about it.

When this note was written, it was handed to Mr. Alley, who, standing upon tiptoe, showed it to the recorder, who leaned over and looked at it, but no further notice was taken of it.

Other efforts were made by the prisoner to produce witnesses, but as they were not in attendance, the court said that it was too late, and that the trial could not be suspended for their coming.

The recorder then proceeded to sum up the case, and the jury in a few minutes brought in a verdict of guilty. The recorder having then passed sentence of death upon her, the miserable girl was carried from the bar convulsed with agony, and uttering frightful screams.

Few cases ever excited greater interest than that of Eliza Fenning; and we are happy in being able to state that her religious principles were correct, and her professions sincere. Through life she was distinguished by a superiority of intellect, and a propriety of deportment, which could hardly be reconciled with the depravity of which she was accused. In person she was short of stature, but of the most perfect symmetry; while her countenance evinced a heart at ease, and a mind at once intellectual and lively. She had been before the fatal transaction betrothed to a young man, to whom she appears to have been sincerely attached.

After the unfortunate girl’s conviction she was induced to apply to the Crown for a remission of the sentence of death, and sent a petition to the prince regent. She next addressed the lord chancellor, to whom she sent a statement of all the exculpatory circumstances of her case. She also sent a letter to Lord Sidmouth, and another to her late master, requesting him to sign a petition in her favour, with which however he refused to comply.

Several gentlemen interested themselves in the fate of the poor girl; and Mr. Montagu, of Lincoln’s Inn, waited on the recorder, offering to produce evidence of a member of Mr. Turner’s family, who was insane, having declared that he would poison the family; but the recorder assured him that the production of such evidence would be wholly useless.

The night before her execution a meeting of gentlemen took place in Mr. Newman’s apartments in Newgate, at which Mr. Gibson, of the house of Corbyn and Co., chemists, No. 300, Holborn, stated that Robert Gregson Turner, in the month of September or October, called at their house in a wild and deranged state, requesting to be put under restraint, otherwise he declared he should destroy himself and wife. Mr. Gibson also stated that it was well known in the family that Robert Turner was occasionally subject to such violent and strange conduct.

With this information Mr. Gibson, accompanied by a clerk from the secretary of state’s office, waited on the recorder, requesting that the unfortunate girl might be respited to admit of investigation; but all was of no avail, and in twelve hours after, Eliza Fenning was executed!

From the moment the poor girl was first charged with the poisoning, however or by whomsoever questioned, she never faltered in her denial of the crime, and rather courted than shunned an investigation of her case. So many circumstances, which had developed themselves subsequently to the trial, had been communicated to the secretary of state by the gentlemen who interested themselves in her favour (among whom were some of great respectability), that a reprieve was confidently expected to the last: and the order for her execution, four months after her conviction, was received with very great surprise.

On Tuesday morning, the 25th July, she took her last farewell of her father, who, by the firmness of his manner, exemplified the courage he wished his child to sustain upon the scaffold: but with her mother the parting scene was heart-rending.

On the fatal morning, the 26th July, 1815, she slept till four o’clock, when she arose, and, after carefully washing herself, and spending some time in prayer, she dressed herself neatly in a white muslin gown and cap. About eight o’clock she walked steadily to the spot where criminals are bound; and, whilst the executioner tied her hands—even whilst he wound the halter round her waist—she stood erect and unmoved, with astonishing fortitude. At this moment a gentleman who had greatly interested himself in her behalf adjured her, in the name of that God in whose presence she was about to appear, if she knew anything of the crime for which she was about to suffer, to make it known; when she replied distinctly and clearly, “Before God then, I die innocent!” The question was again put by the reverend Mr. Vazie, as well as by the ordinary, and finally, by Oldfield, a prisoner who suffered with her, and to each she repeated “I am innocent.” These were her last words; and she died without a struggle, at the age of twenty-one.

Her miserable parents, on application for her body, were not prepared to pay the executioner’s fees of fourteen shillings and sixpence: but having borrowed the money with some difficulty, the remains of their daughter were handed over to them.

We have endeavoured to give the circumstances of this case as clearly and with as little prejudice as possible, but we should not do our duty, if we were not to state that the public mind was much inflamed at the execution of the unhappy prisoner. Thousands of persons, after examining the evidence adduced at the trial, did not hesitate to express their opinions very strongly upon the subject of the case; and many of the lower orders, apparently convinced of the innocence of the sufferer, assembled in front of Mr. Turner’s house, in Chancery-lane, hooting and hissing, and otherwise expressing their indignation, at what they conceived to be their unjust prosecution of their servant. The police were active in their exertions to suppress the tumult; and an affidavit made by Davis, a turnkey in Newgate, was industriously circulated, in which the deponent swore that old Fenning had conjured his daughter, when she went upon the scaffold, to declare her innocence: a counter affidavit of the father of the wretched girl, however, was produced and published, and the assertion of the jailer was at length admitted to have been founded upon a mistaken interpretation of what had really passed. The mob continued to assemble for many days, and it was not until the police had taken very vigorous measures against them, that they were finally dispersed. The public still sympathised with the unhappy parents of Eliza Fenning, and a subscription was entered into for their benefit.