Of F. Hinson, for the Murder of Maria Death
EXECUTION
F. HINSON,
Who suffered the extreme penalty of the law, at the Old Bailey, this morning, Monday, December, 13th, 1869, for the Wilful Murder of Maria Death.
This morning Frederick Hinson suffered the extreme penalty of the law at the Old Bailey, for the murder of Maria Death.
The prisoner previous to his trial behaved in a most sullen manner, scarcely heeding anything that was said to him. It is satisfactory to state that since his condemnation the conduct of the unhappy man underwent a total change for the better, and he began to realize the awful condition in which he was placed, and his callous demeanour was changed into one of deep dejection. The prisoner has been assiduously attended by the chaplain of the prison, and to such a state of religious feeling had he been brought, that he fully acknowledged the justice of his sentence. He has frequently alluded to his great affection for the unfortunate woman, and his regret at having sent her before her maker totally unprepared. Since his condemnation, the prisoner has been visited by his children, and also his father, the final parting from whom was of the most affecting character, and will not be forgotten by those who witnessed it.
The sheriffs arrived at an early hour, and immediately proceeded to the condemned cell, where they found the prisoner earnestly engaged in his religious duties with the chaplain of the prison. The time had now arrived for the prisoner to be pinioned, the operation of which was quickly performed, and the wretched man having thanked the chaplain, the governor, and other officials for their kindness towards him, the procession was then formed, and slowly took its way to the scene of execution. The cap and rope having been adjusted, the bolt was drawn, and the wretched man ceased to exist. Simultaneously with the drop falling, a black flag was hoisted at one corner of the prison, announcing that the last dread sentence of the law had been carried into effect.
Young men and maidens pay attention,
You married and you single all,
List to my sad lamentation,
And pity, pity my downfall;
For those double Wood Green murders,
I alas am doom’d to die,
How can I meet my heavenly father,
Or dare to him for mercy cry.
So all young men I pray take warning,
Your passions curb, ’ere ’tis too late,
My dying prayer do not be scorning,
Think of Frederick Hinson’s wretched fate.
At Wood Green I was respected,
With all around in peace did dwell,
Now broken-hearted and dejected,
I pine within a gloomy cell.
With Maria Death I lived contented,
’Till Boyd he caused her for to stray,
And by the tales that he invented,
He affection stole from me away.
When I found she was false-hearted,
Jealousy fill’d my mind, ’tis true,
I grieved from her for to be parted,
For I loved her, and our offspring too;
Poor darling orphans, let none upbraid them,
When my soul is gone, I know not where,
That God above from harm may save them.
Shall be my last, my earnest prayer.
When at the station on her did gaze there,
In company with that treacherous man,
One kindly word from her would saved her
And stay’d alas my murderous hand;
But she braved my anger, and in madness,
Recall the dead I never can,
I saw her fall, and gazed in sadness,
A guilty and heartbroken man.
Now for my crimes I was convicted,
And the dreadful sentence on me pass’d,
Condemn’d by some, by many pity’d,
And in a dreary cell was cast;
The Judge said on passing sentence,
Frederick Hinson you must prepare,
Ask God to grant you true repentance,
And bend to him in heartfelt prayer.
My days are spent in lamentation,
My sleepless nights were spent in prayer,
My mind was filled with agitation,
For Maria’s shade was always there.
But I trust her soul is now in heaven,
But a little time she’s gone before,
This sinful world I must be leaving,
And so my sad end will deplore.
A last farewell, I must be going,
To meet with my offended God,
My state of mind there is no knowing,
My soul’s bow’d down with deeds of blood.
Now once again I pray take warning;
For me the fatal bell does toll,
My dying prayer do not be scorning,
May the Lord have mercy on my soul.
H. Disley, Printer, 57, High-street, St. Giles.