The Sad Case of George and Sarah Hall: a Victorian tale of crime, passion and mercy

Dramatic newspaper accounts of homicides were avidly consumed in the Victorian era, just as they are today, and sometimes public opinion could sway the outcome. One notable instance involved George and Sarah Ann Hall of Birmingham, a young couple of limited means.

Aris’s Birmingham Gazette, 20 February 1864

Death of Sarah Hall

George, a jewelry stamper, and Sarah, a shop worker, married on Christmas Day 1864. They had known each other for seven years but their relationship was volatile. Just nine days after the wedding, Sarah left George and returned to her parents’ home, complaining he had provided her with hardly any money. However, the real reason was her ongoing infidelity with another man. Despite this, George remained devoted to Sarah and tried hard to persuade her to return.

Six weeks later, he met Sarah after work and walked with her to her parents’ home. According to Sarah’s mother, they both seemed downcast, but George was behaving tenderly towards his wife, as ever. They left for a walk but did not return.

Just before midnight, a police constable heard a pistol shot. Investigating, he found Sarah Hall on a canal bridge. She was carried home, where she died without regaining consciousness. George confessed to the crime and was arrested.

The inquest

The inquest attracted such a large crowd of onlookers that several policemen had to be deployed to keep order.  A jury was sworn in by the coroner, Dr Birt Davies, and George Hall, was brought before the jury. Looking distraught, he burst into tears when he saw Sarah’s mother, and he remained in a semi-fainting state throughout the proceedings.

Witnesses were called. It transpired that the day before the shooting George Hall had bought a pair of pistols, some gunpowder and four bullets. The shopkeeper’s assistant identified the prisoner as the purchaser of these items. The coroner asked Hall if he would like to make a statement, but he declined. On being asked to confirm this in writing, he explained that he was unable to do so because he could not write. The coroner’s officer showed him where to put his mark, whereupon he fainted again and had to be carried to his seat. Asked to declare their verdict, the foreman of the inquest jury stated ‘wilful murder’.

Birmingham Daily Gazette, 4 March 1864

George Hall’s trial at the Assizes

Hall was held at Warwick gaol until his case came before the assize court. Meanwhile a George Hall Defence Fund was established by wealthy sympathisers to ensure he had good legal representation. The packed court listened with breathless attention as Hall’s barrister summed up the case for the defence. Emphasising George’s adoration of his young wife, he described his anguish when he learnt of her infidelity.

This speech caused some of those in court to weep, but the judge was unmoved. The jury retired for just fifteen minutes before returning with their verdict – guilty of murder, but with a recommendation for mercy on account of the provocation received.

The prisoner was then asked if he had anything to say. In a voice tremulous with emotion and at times almost inaudible, George Hall proceeded to tell his side of the story:

‘I have kept company with her for seven years and a half, and during that time there is no man on this earth that loved a girl as I did her, but she loved another all the time. I married her. She said she had no home she could dwell in. I said, “Sarah, I have a good home.” She said, “George, if you will give me only a chair and a stool, I will dwell with you to the day of my death.” I did whatever I could, and only God in heaven knows what I did. I got what I could for a home, and it was my own home, only that all in it did not belong to me, but she left me.

Greatly moved, many women in the galleries sobbed audibly and some of the men buried their faces in their handkerchiefs. The judge then donned the black cap and pronounced the terrible sentence:

‘George Hall, the jury have found you guilty of the crime of wilful murder, and they have accompanied it with a recommendation to mercy, which I shall transmit to the proper quarter. But I have no power to hold out hopes which I fear would only be delusive. You must prepare to die.’

Petitioning for mercy

Over the following days more stories emerged in the press of Sarah Hall’s ill-treatment of her husband and his patient efforts to placate her. An army of volunteers worked tirelessly to collect signatures on a petition to the Home Secretary urging him to commute the sentence. More than 62,000 signatures were collected, equivalent to four-fifths of Birmingham’s adult male population, including the mayor and the town’s two MPs.

In an extraordinary twist, even Sarah Hall’s mother and grandmother joined the chorus. The letter carrying their marks said they had always had the greatest respect and affection for George Hall, were now plunged into grief by his capital sentence and prayed that his life might be saved.

Hopes were raised, only to be dashed when it was announced that the Home Secretary  considered the evidence showed that the murder was deliberate and pre-meditated. So preparations were made for Hall’s execution on 15^th March. The night before, he was given the last sacrament and received a final visit from his parents and Sarah Hall’s mother and brother. He was resigned to his fate, confident he would meet his wife in heaven. The scaffold was erected, the hangman was ready, and a small crowd of onlookers began to assemble outside the gaol.

Then came an astonishing development. The Mayor of Birmingham was informed that Warwick gaol had been ordered to halt the execution. At the very last moment George Hall’s sentence had been commuted by the Home Office. There was great rejoicing in Birmingham that his life was saved.

The Birmingham Journal, 12 March 1864

For more information on this and other coroner’s tales, see Probing Deaths, Saving Lives