covered by a protective shield.
RHYNWICK WILLIAMS THE NEWGATE MONSTER?
In June, 1790, with Monster mania at its height, Anne Porter, who had been a victim of the monster six months earlier outside her home in St James’s Street, was walking in St James’s Park with her admirer, a fishmonger named Henry Coleman. Suddenly she called out, ‘There he is, the wretch’ and identified a man in the crowd as the Monster. Coleman, who was more a fishmonger than a hero, followed the suspect carefully, at a distance, and eventually realised that he was someone he had met on a number of occasions at public houses. His name was Rhynwick Williams and he was about to become a most reluctant celebrity. Williams accompanied Coleman to the Porters’ home in St James’s Street where the hysterical Porter sisters identified him as the man who had attacked them the previous January. Williams was taken to Bow Street and his meagre lodgings were searched. Nothing suspicious was found among his few belongings.
Rhynwick Williams was the son of an apothecary who ensured that his son had a reasonably good education and paid for him to have dancing lessons with a view to a career on the stage. Nothing came of this and at the time of his arrest Williams had recently lost his job as a worker in an artificial-flower factory in Dover Street where his employer was a Frenchman. His appearances at Bow Street before the examining magistrate were accompanied by huge crowds, some curious, some determined to injure or kill him, though the evidence against him was sketchy. The hysterical Porter sisters not only identified him as their assailant, but claimed to have seen him several times before the first assault. Other victims were less sure while the most positive identifications were the most doubtful. One was from an Elizabeth Davis who had previously described her attacker as tall and gentlemanly-looking. Williams was short and very hard up. Mary Forster positively identified Williams as her attacker, but Williams was able to call a neighbour who testified that, on the day in question, Williams had been in Weymouth, 130 miles away. The neighbour was a Bow Street Runner and as such a particularly convincing witness. Williams also claimed that at the time of the assault on the Porter sisters he had been at work in the artificial-flower factory and that he had many fellow workers who would support his alibi.
FELONY OR MISDEMEANOUR?
Despite the weakness of the evidence Williams was committed for trial at the Old Bailey, but there now arose the question of what he was to be charged with. Assault, even with the intention to maim or kill, was a misdemeanour punishable usually by a flogging or imprisonment. Such a punishment would not have satisfied the mobs outside the court so a means had to be found whereby he could be charged with a felony – a more serious crime for which the sentence would be death or transportation. The magistrates found a statute of 1721, an early component of the Bloody Code, which had been directed against weavers protesting against the import of cheap cloth from India. Under this statute it was a felony to ‘assault any person in the public streets with intent to tear, spoil, cut, burn or deface the garments or clothes of such person’. It was on this charge that Rhynwick Williams was to stand trial.
The trial began on 8 July 1790 at the Old Bailey, the presiding judge being Sir Francis Buller. He was known to the caricaturists as Judge Thumb, because in an earlier trial he had declared that a man might thrash his wife as long as the stick he used was no thicker than his thumb. The trial was a farce. 44 Williams’s barrister, when questioning Anne Porter, the witness who most positively identified Williams, adopted an apologetic manner which conveyed to the witness and the court that he had no confidence in his client’s innocence. A Lady Wallace, a supposed victim of the Monster, had offered to testify in defence of
RHYNWICK WILLIAMS THE NEWGATE MONSTER?
In June, 1790, with Monster mania at its height, Anne Porter, who had been a victim of the monster six months earlier outside her home in St James’s Street, was walking in St James’s Park with her admirer, a fishmonger named Henry Coleman. Suddenly she called out, ‘There he is, the wretch’ and identified a man in the crowd as the Monster. Coleman, who was more a fishmonger than a hero, followed the suspect carefully, at a distance, and eventually realised that he was someone he had met on a number of occasions at public houses. His name was Rhynwick Williams and he was about to become a most reluctant celebrity. Williams accompanied Coleman to the Porters’ home in St James’s Street where the hysterical Porter sisters identified him as the man who had attacked them the previous January. Williams was taken to Bow Street and his meagre lodgings were searched. Nothing suspicious was found among his few belongings.
Rhynwick Williams was the son of an apothecary who ensured that his son had a reasonably good education and paid for him to have dancing lessons with a view to a career on the stage. Nothing came of this and at the time of his arrest Williams had recently lost his job as a worker in an artificial-flower factory in Dover Street where his employer was a Frenchman. His appearances at Bow Street before the examining magistrate were accompanied by huge crowds, some curious, some determined to injure or kill him, though the evidence against him was sketchy. The hysterical Porter sisters not only identified him as their assailant, but claimed to have seen him several times before the first assault. Other victims were less sure while the most positive identifications were the most doubtful. One was from an Elizabeth Davis who had previously described her attacker as tall and gentlemanly-looking. Williams was short and very hard up. Mary Forster positively identified Williams as her attacker, but Williams was able to call a neighbour who testified that, on the day in question, Williams had been in Weymouth, 130 miles away. The neighbour was a Bow Street Runner and as such a particularly convincing witness. Williams also claimed that at the time of the assault on the Porter sisters he had been at work in the artificial-flower factory and that he had many fellow workers who would support his alibi.
FELONY OR MISDEMEANOUR?
Despite the weakness of the evidence Williams was committed for trial at the Old Bailey, but there now arose the question of what he was to be charged with. Assault, even with the intention to maim or kill, was a misdemeanour punishable usually by a flogging or imprisonment. Such a punishment would not have satisfied the mobs outside the court so a means had to be found whereby he could be charged with a felony – a more serious crime for which the sentence would be death or transportation. The magistrates found a statute of 1721, an early component of the Bloody Code, which had been directed against weavers protesting against the import of cheap cloth from India. Under this statute it was a felony to ‘assault any person in the public streets with intent to tear, spoil, cut, burn or deface the garments or clothes of such person’. It was on this charge that Rhynwick Williams was to stand trial.
The trial began on 8 July 1790 at the Old Bailey, the presiding judge being Sir Francis Buller. He was known to the caricaturists as Judge Thumb, because in an earlier trial he had declared that a man might thrash his wife as long as the stick he used was no thicker than his thumb. The trial was a farce. 44 Williams’s barrister, when questioning Anne Porter, the witness who most positively identified Williams, adopted an apologetic manner which conveyed to the witness and the court that he had no confidence in his client’s innocence. A Lady Wallace, a supposed victim of the Monster, had offered to testify in defence of
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