Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image

Complete Story. The Red Barn.

UY DALRYMPLE .1. BELGRAVE.

lu the mouth of October, 1827, there appeared the advertisement of a gentleman “entirely independent, whose disposition was not to be exceeded, who hail lost the chief of his family by the hand of Providence." He further described himself os “ a sociable, kind, and sympathising companion.” He advertised for a wife, and he added that “as the advertiser was in affluence, the lady must have some little property." He hoped, he added, that no one would answer this advertisement from impertinent curiosity. The answers were to be sent to Mr Forster, stationer, Leadenhall-street; and, considering the engaging nature of the advertisement, it is not perhaps surprising that a great many answers were sent. The reply that seems to have most taken the fancy of the entirely independent gentleman was that of a Miss Moore, a young woman, the sister of a tradesman in ClerkenweH. She possessed little, if any, property; but, what was perhaps as good, she was able to add to their income by keeping a school for young ladies, as she was well educated. The independent gentleman's name was Corder; and there is no doubt as to the fact that- the advertisement was so far a true one that he was possessed of some little property. He was quite a young man. only twenty-four years old, but his looks were not much in his favour, for he was a short-sighted, down-look-ing fellow. On the other hand, he had a glib tongue, and was a very wellspoken fellow, though he did not seem to be very anxious to say a great deal about himself.

The marriage took place, and they afterwards settled at Grove-house, Brentford, where Mrs Corder established a school for young ladies. There is no reason to believe that for some time she regretted her marriage, but it is said that there was one thing about her husband which rather alarmed her. He used to groan at night so terribly that he not only used to frighten his wife, but also the boarders. He seemed to have something on his mind. The next day, however, he would say that it was only nightmare, and she probably would think no more about it until it occurred again. Life seems to have gone very smoothly at the girls' school. Grove-house, Brentford, until April 22nd, when, at breakfast time, a Bow-street runner named Janies Lea called there, and asked to see Mr Corder. He wished to see him about a terible discovery that had been made a few days before at the little village of Polstead, in Suffolk. Polstead is a pretty village, about nine miles from Colchester, fifteen miles from Ipswich, and ten from Sudbury. It had then about 1,000 inhabitants, and it seems to have been a well ordered place, for there were two services every Sunday in the parish church, and there was a Sunday school and a day school, both well-attended institutions, which, said a local reporter, were not only a. local but a national blessing. In the parish there were several very substantial farmers, and one of these was a Mr Corder, the father of the gentleman “whose disposition was not to be exceeded. ' Probably Mr Corder would not have given his son such a flattering description, and his neighbours would have agreed with him. for from his boyhood William Corder, who was the youngest of four sons, had had an ill reputation. His nickname at- school was Foxey. Before he had grown up he had borrowed money by using his father's name. His father thought the best thing to do with him was to send him to sea. but the ship's captain to whom he took him did not take a fancy to him, and said that he was too shortsighted to be of any use. So Corder stayed at home, and if his father Mistrusted him, his mother made up for it by always supporting him. for her youngest sou was her especial pet. Corder's character grew worse. There was n village thief and ne'er do-weel, a half-gipsy fellow, called Beauty Smith, who came home after a long stay in gaol. Corder, it is said,

not oirfy made a friend of Beauty Smith, but was suspected of having a hand with him in stealing a poor man's pig. Smith was convicted of this, but Conler did not seem to have been put on trial. “So BiM Corder was with you in this pig stealing job?” said the village constable to Smith after his conviction. “Yes, he was” replied the pig stealer, “ami he will live to be hanged.” It was not, however, for any erime of dishonesty that Corder was destined to come into the hands of the law. There lived at Polstead a respectable labouring man named Martin. He had married twice, and by his first wife had a daughter named Maria. She is said to have been a very pretty girl, of an amiable disposition. She seems, however, to have been of a somewhat, indifferent character, for before she made Corder's acquaintance she had had two illegitimate children, though she was still only a girl. The. result of her acquaintance with Corder was that she had a third child by him. Corder hail promised to marry her. but hud put off doipg so. The child, shortly after its birth, died under somewhat suspicious circumstances. Corder secretly taking the body away and burying it in a field. Maria Martin had another complaint against Corder, namely, that he had on one occasion managed to make away with £5 which had been sent to her by the father or her second child. She had aeeused him of taking away the bread from her and her child. He promised, to make amends, and tn marry her. and this was how matters stood between them on May 14. 1827. tin that day, which was a Sunday, Corder called at the Martins’ house, mid said that on the next day Maria shou'id go with him to Ipswich, and they should be married. Maria agreed to this. He did not come to the cottage again until the Friday. Mrs Martin and Maria were at home when he came. He said that Maria must come with him at once. She said that she did not like to start with him then, as it was tn the middle of the day and there were many people about who know her. Corder then frightened her by saying that he had just seen the parish constable, who had informed him that be had a warrant against Maria. So that the people should not know her when they left the cottage, he said that she could dress in boy's clothes, mid that they could go to a barn in the fields called the Red Barn, where she could change her clothes. After some talk she consented io do this, and he went away, telling her to change her clothes and he would come back in a quarter of an hour. She changed her clothes, put on a coat and trousers ever her petticoat and stays, and she pulled her hair up under a boy’s hat. Then he e.nme back, and they walked away together in the direction of the Red Barn. That evening, when it was dusk, some hours after they' had left. Maria Martin's half-brother, a bov of ten.

saw Corder coming away from the direction of the Red Barn carrying a pickaxe.

The next Sunday Corder called upon the Martins. He saiil that it had been too late for him on the Friday to marry .Maria, and that he had taken her to the house of a Miss Rowlands, the sister of an old schoolfellow of his. and that she would stay' there until they were married or he had found her a place. Mrs Martin said something about their having stayed a long time at the Red Barn. “No,” said Corder, “she had changed her clothes, and we went on at once.” “Why," said Mrs Martin, “my son saw you a long time after that in Thistly-lane.” Corder said that the boy must have mistaken a man named Akers for him. After that he called very often at the Martins': he generally said that he had lately seen Maria. She had taken a place as companion to Miss Rowlands, and was living very comfortably at Yarmouth. There was a good deal of gossip ami talk at Polstead about Maria Martin, but there was not much secret made about the fact that she had left the village with Corder. On some occasions he openly said that he had married her. This story, however, did not seem to meet with much credit, probably because it was inconsistent with the tale he had told the girl’s parents. On one occasion, before several men, he said he woidd bet that he had married her. The bet was taken up. but then Corder got off it by’ saying that it was not a proper matter to l»et about. The opinion of the village was that Maria Martin was not far away, and that Corder was keeping her as his mistress. Corder’s mother, in order to put a stop to this state of

things. asked Mr Chaplin, an influential neighbour, to see her son and talk to him of the wickedness of his conduct.

Mr Chaplin sent for (’order, who listened to all he had to say very respectfully. “I can’t give Maria up. J am too fond of her,” was all he had to say when he had listened to this good advice. There lived at Polstead an old woman named Mrs Stow. She used to talk to ('order aliout Maria. “Where was Maria?” she asked (’order one day. “’She was not far off,” Corder replied. “He could go and see her whenever he liked.” The old woman asked (’order if he was jealous, and whether, if, when he was not with her. he suspected someone else was? “When I am away no one else is with her,” replied Corder. That- summer one of (’order’s brothers died. Corder was at the funeral and so was old Martin, and the latter saw in Corder's hand an umbrella which he recognised as the one which Maria had had in her possession when she left her home. Old Martin asked him how it carhe that he had Maria's umbrella? At first He said that it was not hers. He afterwards said that it was raining the last time he saw her, and that when he went away she lent him her umbrella. When Maria had left she was wearing a yellow silk handkerchief which belonged to her child. Several times old Martin asked Corder to bring thi* d>ack, but he at last said that Maria hail lost it. That year Corder's father and brothei died, and on the death of his father he inherited some property. He then professed to be in very bad health and said that it was' necessary for him to go away for a change of air. He went to the Isle of Wight. For some time Martin heard no more of him, and he wrote him a lettei saying that he had no money to pay for .Maria’s child, and that he would have to apply to the palish authorities. To this he received a reply from Corder, enclosing him a post-office order for £l. He said that he was surprised that Martin had not answered his daughter’s letter to him describing her wedding. They had been married some weeks before at Ipswich. Mr Rowlands had been ‘•daddy.” Miss Rowlands had been bridesmaid. They had after the wedding gone to stay in the Isle of Wight. “My stay in town,” he said, “will be very short, for 1 am anxious to return to her who is now my wife, ami with whom 1 shall be the happiest of men.” Corder afterwards wrote and said that he supposed Maria’s letter had been lost crossing the sea. between Cowes and Portsmouth. But as time went on Martin and his wife began to think that it was very curious that they did not get any more satisfactory tidings from Maria. Mrs Martin, though she was only the girl's stepmother, seems to have been very fond of her and was always thinking about her. and it is perhaps not surprising that she dreamt about that which was so often in her mind. It is not unlikely also that the suspicion of the story which she dreamt had come to her when she was awake. At all events it seemed to be well established that Mrs Martin did, on the night of April I7lh. IS2S. have a vivid dream to the effect that Maria’s body was buried in the red barn, and that she had been murdered there by (’order the day they left. When she awoke she told her husband and insisted upon his going to the place ami making a careful search to find out whether or no there was any truth in her dream. Martin went to the Red Barn the next day. He noticed that at one end of the barn there was a lot of large, loose stones. When he took them up he noticed that the earth under them had been disturbed. He got two men to help him, and they cleared all the stones away and began to dig. Soon they found something which told them that Mrs Martin’s dream, which was probably the reflection of her waking thoughts, had proved to be the true theory of the unfortunate girl’s disappearance. They came across the body of a girl. The clothes on it and the yellow silk handkerchief round the neck—which was the one that had belonged to (he child —made Martin perfectly sure that it was his daughter's body. The remains were removed, and the result of a careful medical examination was that it was found that there was a bullet in her brain, which must have caused death. There was also a mark of a stab on her face.

('order was at once suspected know Maria Martin. I never heard of such a person in my life,” said Corder, when he was told what the nature of the charge against him waa. The

officer informed him that hr must search the house. The result of the search was that several rather important pieces of evidence were found. In a box were found a pair of kid boota, which it was afterwards proved had been worn by Maria Martin on the day she left home with (order. Then the b>?ck velvet reticule which the unfortunate girl had carried, ami some other articles which hail been in her possession that day. were found. There were also found in Corder’s possession two pistols and a curious sci in itershaped knife or dagger, some bullets and a powder flask. The How-street runner, having taken possession of these articles, informed ('order that it would be his duty to take him too. Conler made no attempt to resist being taken into custody. The policeofficer informed (’order that he must come with him. and they left (irovehoiise. On their way they went into the Red Lion at Brentford, where they had some dinner, Corded making a hearty meal, and saying to the officer, “You see you have spoilt niy breakfast. Corder was taken to Ipswich, and asked to be allowed to attend before the coroner's inquest, which was held at the public-house at Polstead. The coroner, however, thought fit not to allow him to be present, for which he was afterwards reprimanded by the judge who tried Corder. The ‘ coroner’s jury found a verdict of wilful murder against Corder, and in the following August he was tried for murder at Bury St. Edmunds. The main evidence against him was that of Mrs Martin and her husband, but there were other important witnesses. A cutler from Ipswich proved that in May (.’order hail taken the dagger to his shop to be sharpened. Corder had said that a cousin of his was going to be married, and that he intended to sit at the head of the table at the wedding breakfast and carve with the dagger. Then there was the evidence of a man named Stow, whose cottage was not far from the Red Barn. He said that Corder had come one day to him in May ami borrowed a spade. The prisoner did not really attempt to struggle against this evidence, I’or his defence practically admitted all the circumstances proved by the prosecution. There, was a difference of opinion between the prisoner and the experienced London solicitor to whom he had ent rusted his defence. Corder suggested the defence that Maria Martin had committed suicide. Mr Humphreys considered that the defence to lie put before the jury should be that, the crime was committed in a passion by Corder during a sudden quarrel, under circumstances that made it amount to manslaughter. It is not easy to say which defence seems to be the most hopeless. The line taken in cross-examina-tion, however, would leave the prisoner. who in those days had to make his own defence, free to choose which he liked, and Corder took the line of the. suicide. The story of the case, he said, illustrated the truth that fact was stranger than fiction. He said that in the barn, while Mari i was changing her clothes, she became very angry with him, saying that he did not treat her so weil as the gentleman who was the father of her chikl had done. lie then said that if she showed such temper before marriage he would know what to expect afterwards, and he would draw back while there was time, lie left the barn with these words, and he had only taken a few steps when he heard the report of a pistol. lie came back and found that she had shot herself, and had used a pistol which she must have taken from him some time before. Seeing the suspicion that there would be against him, he had attempted to hide her death. 'This defence could hardly bear the ordeal of a judge's summing up. and the jury, after little hesitation, found him guilty. After the proceedings had come to a conclusion. Lea, the police officer, applied that he might have the dagger and pistols, which he said ( order had made him a present of. The sheriff, however, had refused to give them up. saying that he would keep them, as they were all that he .as likely to get for his shrievalty. The court refused to interfere in this not very dignified dispute, and history does not say whether the sheriff managed to keep them, or the Bow-street runner, who woidd probably have known how to find a market for them, obtained them, as a perquisite. Corder wai hanged in due course at Bury St. Edmunds.

This article text was automatically generated and may include errors. View the full page to see article in its original form.
Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZGRAP19000922.2.57

Bibliographic details

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXV, Issue XII, 22 September 1900, Page 553

Word Count
3,173

Complete Story. The Red Barn. New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXV, Issue XII, 22 September 1900, Page 553

Complete Story. The Red Barn. New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXV, Issue XII, 22 September 1900, Page 553