PHILIP NICHOLSON EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

THE case of this unfortunate wretch is one of a peculiarly distressing character, presenting a crime of a most fearful nature, committed without the most remote cause of provocation, and apparently also without motive.

It appears that the malefactor was a footman in the employment of Mr. and Mrs. Bonar, an aged and respectable couple, who resided at a mansion called Camden Place, situated in the village of Chiselhurst, in Kent. The establishment consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Bonar, two female domestics, who slept in an apartment at the rear of the house, a groom and coachman, who slept in a room over the stable, and the wretched man Nicholson, who had his bed in the hall, and who was the only man-servant who slept in the house.

On the night of Sunday, the 30th of May, 1813, Mr. Bonar retired to rest, at his usual hour, twelve o’clock, and his lady followed at about two o’clock, having been undressed in the ante-room to the bed-room by her maid.

During the night no noise or disturbance of any kind was heard by the servants, and at half-past six o’clock in the morning one of the garden labourers called up Nicholson and remarked to him that the hall door and window-shutters were open, a circumstance of which he declared he was unaware. At seven o’clock the servant-women got up, and one of them on going into the ante-room of her mistress’s bed-room observed foot-marks of blood plainly visible on the floor. In great agitation she communicated what she had seen to her fellow-servants, and on their all going up to ascertain the truth of what they had been told, they became alarmed lest murder had been committed, and determined to ascertain the truth of their surmises. Upon their entering Mr. Bonar’s apartment, they found their master and mistress lying dead, the former on the floor, literally swimming with blood, while the latter lay on the bed, in a similar condition. A kitchen poker, the instrument with which the murders had evidently been committed, lay on the floor, and the state of the room exhibited the utmost confusion. Nicholson was amongst those who entered the room, and he was observed to be much agitated, and to be very active in moving the bed-clothes, by which, if by no other means, his own attire became stained with blood. One of the servant-women having swooned, he roused her, and told her to attend to her mistress, who still breathed, and upon examination this proved to be the case, and he directly insisted that he should go to town for a surgeon.

On the road he was seen to drink copiously of brandy, and a little after eight o’clock he arrived at the house of Mr. Astley Cooper, who instantly set off for Camden Place, in the hope of affording surgical assistance to the murdered lady. Nicholson went next to the Red Lion, near Bedlam, where he saw a man named Dale, who had been only a few weeks discharged for improper conduct from Mr. Bonar’s service; and to whom he used this remarkable expression: “The deed is done, and you are suspected; but you are not in it.” He then proceeded to the office at Bow-street, in a state of intoxication, to give information of the murder, and having mentioned his interview with Dale, that person was brought to the office; but he established a most satisfactory alibi, and was discharged. Three officers immediately set off for Chiselhurst, and Mr. Cooper arrived with all possible despatch at Camden Place, but was too late; the wound was mortal, and Mrs. Bonar expired at eleven minutes past one o’clock, having been through the whole previous time insensible, and having only once uttered the exclamation of “Oh dear!”

“We never witnessed,” says one who saw it, “such a scene of horror as the bed-room presented. Almost the first object which met the eye on entering was the dead body of Mr. Bonar, with the head and hands steeped in blood: the skull was literally broken into fragments in two or three places; and there was a dreadful laceration across the nose, as if effected by the edge of a poker. His hands were mangled in several places, apparently by the same instrument: there was also a severe wound on the right knee. From the numerous wounds on the body of Mr. Bonar, the swollen state of his mouth, and the convulsive contraction of his hands and knees, it is clear that he had struggled with all his force against his horrid murderer. The most shocking circumstance connected with this spectacle was the appearance of the night-cap, which lay a few paces from the head, drenched in blood, with a lock of grey hair sticking to it, which seemed to have been struck from the skull by the violence of the blow of the poker. The pillows of his bed lay at his feet, completely dyed in blood. The manly athletic person of Mr. Bonar—for, though advanced in life, he seems to have been a powerful man—gave an increase of horror to this afflicting sight. The view of Mrs. Bonar, though equally distressing, excited more pity than terror: though her head had been fractured in a dreadful manner, yet there was a calm softness in her countenance, more resembling a healthy sleep than a violent death; it might have been supposed that her life had parted from her without one painful effort. The linen and pillow of the bed in which she lay were covered with blood, as was also the bed of Mr. Bonar. They slept in small separate beds, but placed so close together that there was scarce room for a person to pass between them. The interval of floor between the beds was almost a stream of blood. No slight additional horror arose from the contrast of the spacious handsome apartment in which this scene of death was exhibited. The most heart-moving spectacle yet remained. About seven o’clock in the evening, Mr. Bonar, jun., arrived from Faversham, where he was on duty as Colonel of the Kent local militia. In spite of the efforts of Mr. Angerstein, jun., and some other gentlemen, he rushed up stairs exclaiming, ‘Let me see my father! indeed I must see him.’ It was impossible to detain him: he burst into the bed-chamber, and immediately locked the door after him. Apprehensions were entertained for his safety, and the door was broken open, when he was seen kneeling with clasped hands over the body of his father. His friends bore him away, and hurried him, tottering and fainting, into an adjoining chamber.”

The officers proceeded, immediately on their arrival, to investigate all the circumstances attending this horrid deed, and an examination of the house clearly exhibited the fact that no stranger had been guilty of the murder. They were at a loss to know on whom to fix their suspicions; when the discovery of a pair of shoes belonging to Nicholson, marked with blood, and which corresponded with the bloody footprints in the ante room, tended to produce a belief that he was the guilty man. He had not returned to his master’s house since he had first quitted it in search of surgical aid; and Forrester, one of the City officers, was in consequence despatched in quest of him. After a lengthy and diligent inquiry, he was traced to Whitechapel, and he was there found drinking at the door of the Three Nuns Inn. He was immediately seized, and in spite of great resistance was conveyed in custody to Giltspur-street Compter; but he persisted in denying all knowledge of the murder. On the Tuesday he was sent down to Chiselhurst, where the coroner’s inquest sat on the bodies of the unhappy deceased lady and gentleman, and the evidence being gone through before the coroner, Mr. Martyr, he was reading over the depositions of the several witnesses for their assent and signature, when an alarm was given that Nicholson had attempted his own life. He had been in custody of two officers, and requested leave to go into the yard, which was refused; but he was permitted to enter a water-closet in the passage leading to the servants’ hall; while there he cut his throat with a razor, which, it appeared, he had concealed in the front of his breeches. The gash was so deep, and it bled so profusely, that it was supposed he could not live many minutes. The head seemed almost severed from his body. Two surgeons from Bromley being fortunately present, they took the necessary steps to prevent his death, and after a short time he was sufficiently recovered to speak; but he persisted in declaring his innocence.

In the course of the evening, the coroner’s jury returned a verdict of “Wilful Murder against Philip Nicholson,” and he was committed to the custody of proper officers. He was subsequently visited by many persons of distinction, whose attention was attracted by the horrible and atrocious nature of the murder; and on Monday the 7th June, in consequence of the annoyance and pain to which he was subjected, his wound began bleeding afresh. In a few minutes the hæmorrhage increased to a most alarming extent, and fears being entertained for his life, Mr. Astley Cooper was sent for. The wretched prisoner became alarmed, believing that he was at the point of death; and he, in consequence, sent for Mr. Bonar, junior, to whom he made an ample confession of his guilt, but assigned no reason for the commission of the diabolical act. In consequence of the statement he made the garden was searched, and concealed in a laurel bush was found his body linen deeply stained with blood, the neck and front of his shirt being much torn, in consequence, evidently, of the resistance made by the victims to his attack.

The wretched prisoner subsequently conducted himself more calmly than he had hitherto done; he declared his repentance for the attempt which he had committed upon his life, and, as much apprehension was entertained of his death, everything that could disturb him was studiously kept out of his way.

In consequence of the great care which was paid to him, he was at length pronounced out of danger, and was then committed to the house of correction, Coldbath-fields, where he remained until the 17th of August, on which day he was conveyed to Maidstone jail for trial.

On the 20th of the same month he was arraigned upon the indictment preferred against him, to which he pleaded not guilty. The case was fully made out against him; and the prisoner declared that he had only traversed the allegations in the indictment because he had been advised to do so by his friends. The jury therefore found him guilty, and he was immediately sentenced to death by Mr. Justice Heath in the usual form.

Immediately after the sentence, the prisoner put in a paper, and desired it to be read. The judge said that this was irregular, but looked at the paper, and told the jury that it contained a confession of crime, which was imputed to excessive drinking.

The paper which he put in and desired to be read was as follows:—

“I acknowledge with the deepest contrition the justice of the sentence unto death which has been just passed upon me. My crimes are, indeed, most heavy; I feel their weight, but I do not despair; nay, I humbly hope for mercy, through the infinite mercy of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, who bled and died for me. In order to have a well-grounded hope in him, my all-merciful Redeemer, I know that it is my bounden duty not only to grieve from my heart for my dire offences, but also to do my utmost to make satisfaction for them. Yet, alas! what satisfaction can I make to the afflicted family of my master and mistress, whom without any provocation I so barbarously murdered? I can make none beyond the declaration of my guilt and horror of soul that I could perpetrate deeds so shocking to human nature, and so agonising to the feelings of that worthy family. I implore their forgiveness, for God’s sake; and fully sensible of their great goodness, I do hope that, for His sake, they will forgive me. I freely give up my life as a just forfeit to my country, whose laws I have scandalously outraged. Departing this tribunal, I shall soon appear before another tribunal, where an eternal sentence will be passed upon me. With this dread sentence full in my view, I do most solemnly declare, and I desire this declaration to be taken as my dying words, that I alone was the base and cruel murderer of my master and mistress; that I had no accomplice; that no one knew or possibly could suspect that I intended to perpetrate those barbarities; that I myself had no intention of committing those horrid deeds, save for a short time, so short as scarcely to be computed, before I actually committed them; that booty was not the motive of my fatal cruelties; I am sure the idea of plunder never presented itself to my mind: I can attribute those unnatural murders to no other cause than, at the time of their commission, a temporary fury from excessive drinking; and before that time to the habitual forgetfulness, for many years, of the great God and his judgments, and the too natural consequence of such forgetfulness, the habitual yielding to the worst passions of corrupted nature; so that the evil that I was tempted to do, that I did: the Lord in his mercy has, nevertheless, spared until now my life—that life which I, in an agony of horror and despair, once most wickedly attempted to destroy: He has most graciously allowed me time for repentance; an humble and contrite heart must be His gift; that gift I hope He has granted to my most ardent supplications: in that hope, and bearing in mind His promise that an humble and contrite heart He will not despise, I, freely offering up to Him my sufferings, and my life itself, look forward, through his most precious blood, to the pardon of all my crimes, my manifold and most enormous crimes, and most humbly trust that the same mercy which He showed to the penitent thief who was crucified with him He will show to me: thus meekly confiding in thee, O Jesus! into thy hands I commend my spirit. Amen.

“Philip Nicholson.

“This 20th August, 1813.”

The signature was in Nicholson’s own hand-writing: the rest appeared written by another hand.

After sentence of death was passed, the wretched culprit was placed in the condemned cell, which in the Maidstone jail is underground. In this cell Mr. Bonar had an interview with him, at half-past five on Monday morning, 22nd August, the day fixed for his execution. On his approaching the cell, he found Nicholson on his knees at prayer.

At about twelve o’clock, the preparations for the removal of the prisoner being nearly completed, Mr. Bonar, accompanied by his brother, and Mr. Bramston, the Catholic clergyman, had another interview with the unfortunate man, soon after which, the hurdle or sledge, which was in the shape of a shallow box, about six feet by three, was drawn up to the jail door; at each end was a seat just capable of holding two persons. Nicholson, double ironed, was first placed in it, with his back to the horses; he was also pinioned with ropes, and round his shoulders was coiled the fatal cord; by his side sat the executioner; opposite to the prisoner the Rev. Mr. Bramston took his seat, and by his side sat one of the Maidstone jailors with a loaded blunderbuss. Everything being in readiness, the procession advanced at a very slow pace towards Pennenden Heath, which is distant from Maidstone nearly a mile and a half, on which was erected a temporary drop, which had a platform raised seven feet from the ground, and was large enough to contain about a dozen persons. A little before two o’clock the hurdle arrived, and stopped immediately under the gallows, when Mr. Bramston and Nicholson knelt down on it, and remained for a while in prayer. Some time previous to this, Mr. Bonar arrived on the ground in a post-chaise, and took his stand within twelve yards of the fatal spot, with the front windows full on the gallows, which he kept open during the whole time; but each of the side windows was closed by blinds. So anxious was Mr. Bonar to get from the unfortunate wretch his very dying words, as to whether he had either motive or accomplice, that a person was deputed to ascend the platform after the cord was round the prisoner’s neck, and to ask him questions upon the subject of the murder. The wretched being repeatedly declared that he had no accomplice in the diabolical deed; and in answer to the last question put to him,—“Had you any antipathy to either your master or mistress before you committed the horrid murder?”—clasping his hands together as well as his close bonds would permit him, he answered, “As God is in heaven it was a momentary thought, as I have repeatedly declared before.”

The above were the last words of this unhappy man; and in a few minutes after they were uttered, the bottom of the platform was let fall, and Nicholson was launched into eternity. He died unusually hard, being greatly convulsed. It appeared from the account he gave of himself, that he was a native of Ireland, and had been discharged from the thirteenth dragoons in consequence of a broken wrist. He subsequently lived three years with the city remembrancer, and had been only three weeks in the employ of his late master, Mr. Bonar. Among the servants at Camden Place he was looked upon as a man of harmless disposition and good nature, with no discernible failing but one, drunkenness, to which he was so greatly addicted, that he was seldom sober when he could procure any spirits.

The sensation which the murder produced throughout the country was amazing.