Life, trial and execution of Agnes Rae, aged 22

LIFE, TRIAL,
and
EXECUTION
of
AGNES RAE Aged 22.

⟨who⟩ was executed at maidstone, for the
murder of mr george wilson;

WITH A COPY OF VERSES

which she wrote before her execution.

EDINBURGH:
PRINTED FOR PATRICK BROWN.

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One Penny.

LIFE OF AGNES RAE.

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Miss Agnes Rae, who assassinated ⟨Mr⟩ Wilson, on Friday, at his own residence ⟨in⟩ Bingham, in the county of Kent, was a ⟨fine⟩ yomng lady of considerable ⟨accomplishments,⟩ and superior to the generality of her sex ⟨in⟩ personal charms. Three or four years ⟨after⟩ Mr Wilson's well-known divorce from ⟨his⟩ former wife, he addressed Miss Rae ⟨with⟩ such solicitude that he seduced her. ⟨They⟩ lived together as man and wife for ⟨nearly⟩ three years, with every appearance of ⟨domestic⟩ comfort. About this time, Mr ⟨Wilson⟩ met in company with a young lady who ⟨possessed⟩ a large fortune, to whom he ⟨transferred⟩ his affections, and in a short time married ⟨her.⟩ Upon this, he informed Miss Rae of ⟨the⟩ change in his affections, settled on her a ⟨sufficient⟩ maintainance, and told her he ⟨should⟩ see her no more. After the first agonies ⟨of⟩ grief had abated, she sent him the ⟨most⟩ affectionate remonstrances of his conduct,⟨and⟩ ⟨requested⟩, as a last boon, one interview. This ⟨was⟩ refused. She still persisted by letters to ⟨behove⟩ him to grant her this request; but ⟨finding⟩ him inexorable, she wrote to him,⟨saying⟩, thar if nothing could induce him to (illegible text) her this common act of justice, he must ⟨prepare⟩ himself for the fatal alternative, as ⟨she⟩ was determined that he should not long ⟨survive⟩ his infidelity.

copy of the letter.

'Dear Wilson,—That you have betrayed ⟨and⟩ abandoned the most tender and ⟨affectionate⟩ heart that ever warmed a human bosom, ⟨cannot⟩ be denied by any person. Miserable ⟨as⟩ I have been since you left me, there is ⟨still⟩ a method remaining that would suspend ⟨for⟩ a time the melancholly sufferings and ⟨distress⟩ which I labour under at this moment, ⟨and⟩ still, inhuman as thou art, I am half ⟨persuaded⟩, when I tell you the power is in your ⟨hands⟩, that you will not withhold it from me. ⟨What⟩ I alude to is, permission to see you ⟨once⟩ more, and perhaps for the last time. I would seek you in the farthest corner of ⟨the⟩ globe, rush into your presence, and, with ⟨the⟩ same rapture that nerved the arm of ⟨Charlotte⟩ Corday, who assassinated the ⟨monsieur⟩ Marat, would I put an end to the ⟨existence⟩ of a man who is the author of all the ⟨agonies⟩ and care that at present oppress the heart (illegible text)⟨.⟩

AGNES RAE.’

Receiving no answer, after waiting for ⟨a⟩ month, dressed herself elegantly, and, ⟨one⟩ Friday morning, went to the Three Tu(illegible text)⟨,⟩Bingham, and took her place inside the R(illegible text)ing Sun Coach, which passes near Mr ⟨Wilson's⟩ country-house. She got out at ⟨the⟩ Lodge gate, and in her way up the ⟨avenue⟩ was recognised by Mr Wilson, who ⟨informed⟩ his wife that the tormenting woman ⟨Rae⟩ was coming up, but that he would soon ⟨get⟩ rid of her, if she, Mrs Wilson, would ⟨retire⟩ from the room. Mrs Wilson did not ⟨constent⟩ to this, but prevailed on him to go up ⟨stairs⟩ into the drawing-room, and leave the ⟨interview⟩ to her management.

Miss Rae was then shown into a room, and a asked for Mr Wilson. She was told he was not at home. 'I'm not to be so satisfied, madam,' replied Miss Rae. 'I know the ways of this house unfortunately too well, and therefore, with your leave, I'll search for him.' On which she rushed up into the drawing-room, and, finding him there, she took a knife from her bosom, and presented it at his in a direction to his heart, exclaiming, 'I am come, Wilson, to perform my dreadful promise,' and instantly stabbed Wilson. Surprised at him not falling, she said, 'Goodness, I fear I have not despatched you; but come and deliver me into the hands of justice. Mrs Wilson, on hearing the noise, burst into the room, and, seeing her husband lie bleeding, she fainted away. Upon medical aid being procured, it was found that the knife had penetrated the lowest rib, had cut three other ribs asunder, then passed round the back, and grazed under the shoulder-bone; lingering for five days, he expired in great pain. She was taken into custody; and, on hearing of his death, she burst into tears, lamenting that she was the cause of his death. The coroner’s inquest sat on the body on the Thursday following, and returned a verdict of wilful murder against Agnes Rae; and she was committed to Maidstone Jail, to take her trial at the next Assizes. His age was thirty-five.

At the last Maidstone Assizes, the ⟨prisoner⟩ was placed at the bar. The Judge having taken his seat, and the Jury being sworn the footman to Mr Wilson, saw Miss Rae come into the kitchen, but did not know her. She asked if Mr Wilson was at home. ⟨He⟩ told her he was, and desired the gardener ⟨to⟩ go and shew the lady into the parlour, ⟨while⟩ he put on his shoes. His mistress went ⟨up⟩ stairs to the room. He then heard his master groan several times. He went into ⟨the⟩ room. and found his master bleeding ⟨from⟩ the breast, who exclaimed, 'O, I am ⟨stabbed!⟩ I am murdered!' Miss Rae threw the ⟨knife⟩ ⟨on⟩ the floor, langhing, and said, 'There, take ⟨and⟩ hang me, or do what you will with me, ⟨I⟩ don’t care now.' The prisoner was then ⟨taken⟩ into custody.

The judge summed up the evidence, and ⟨the⟩ Jury returned a verdict of guilty. The ⟨judge⟩ then pronounced sentence upon her, to be hanged by the neck until she be dead! The unhappy woman, at the time of her trial, was far advanced in pregnancy; and, according to custom, was allowed to live. A month after, she was delivered of a fine girl, to whom she gave the name of Agnes Wilson, her seducer's. She suckled the infant child on the morning of her execution, when she requested permision to suckle it again on the scaffold when the rope was fixed about her neck. The infant was brought her, and she was allowed to suckle it ten minutes. It was truly distressing to see this young woman when her infant was taken from her. She was in a state of complete insensibility, and was obliged to be supported by the turnkey until the drop fell, and she departed to that 'bourne from whence no traveller returns.'

O sleep not my babe, for the morn of to-morrow
Will lull me to slumbers more tranquil than thine;
The cold grave will shield me from shame and from sorrow,
Though the deeds and the doom of the guilty are mine.

Not long will the arm of affection enfold thee,
Not long wilt thou hang on thy mother's fond breast;
Then who with the eye of delight shall behold thee,
And watch thee, and guard thee, when I at rest.

Yet it doth grieve me to wake thee my dearest,
The pangs of thy desolate mother to see;
Thou wilt weep when the clank of my cold chains thou hearest
And none but my baby shall mourn over me.

Alas! my sweet babe, with what pride had I pressed thee
To tha that throbs now with sorrow and shame;
If the pure tie of virtuous affection, had blest thee,
And hailed thee the pride of thy father's name

But now, with remorse that avails not, I mourn thee,
Forsaken and friendless too soon thou wilt be;
The world can't betray thee, but it will soon scorn thee,
Avenging the guilt of thy mother on thee.

When the dark thought of my fate shall awaken
The deep blush of shame on thy innocent cheek;
When by all, but the God of the orphan, forsaken,
A home and a father in vain thou wilt seek.

I know the base world will seek to deceive thee.
With falsehoods like that which thy mother beguiled;
Deserted and helpless, to whom shall leave thee?
Oh! God of the fatherless, pity my child.