What
      struggle could have taken place—what struggle so violent and so
      enduring as to have left its ‘traces’ in all directions—between a
      weak and defenceless girl and the gang of ruffians imagined? The
      silent grasp of a few rough arms and all would have been over. The victim must have been absolutely passive at their will. You
      will here bear in mind that the arguments urged against the
      thicket as the scene, are applicable in chief part, only against
      it as the scene of an outrage committed by more than a single
      individual. If we imagine but one violator, we can conceive, and
      thus only conceive, the struggle of so violent and so obstinate a
      nature as to have left the ‘traces’ apparent. “And again. I have already mentioned the suspicion to be excited
      by the fact that the articles in question were suffered to remain
      at all in the thicket where discovered. It seems almost
      impossible that these evidences of guilt should have been
      accidentally left where found. There was sufficient presence of
      mind (it is supposed) to remove the corpse; and yet a more
      positive evidence than the corpse itself (whose features might
      have been quickly obliterated by decay,) is allowed to lie
      conspicuously in the scene of the outrage—I allude to the
      handkerchief with the name of the deceased. If this was accident,
      it was not the accident of a gang. We can imagine it only the
      accident of an individual. Let us see. An individual has
      committed the murder. He is alone with the ghost of the departed. He is appalled by what lies motionless before him. The fury of
      his passion is over, and there is abundant room in his heart for
      the natural awe of the deed. His is none of that confidence which
      the presence of numbers inevitably inspires. He is alone with the
      dead. He trembles and is bewildered. Yet there is a necessity for
      disposing of the corpse. He bears it to the river, but leaves
      behind him the other evidences of guilt; for it is difficult, if
      not impossible to carry all the burthen at once, and it will be
      easy to return for what is left. But in his toilsome journey to
      the water his fears redouble within him. The sounds of life
      encompass his path. A dozen times he hears or fancies the step of
      an observer. Even the very lights from the city bewilder him. Yet, in time and by long and frequent pauses of deep agony, he
      reaches the river’s brink, and disposes of his ghastly
      charge—perhaps through the medium of a boat. But now what
      treasure does the world hold—what threat of vengeance could it
      hold out—which would have power to urge the return of that lonely
      murderer over that toilsome and perilous path, to the thicket and
      its blood chilling recollections? He returns not, let the
      consequences be what they may. He could not return if he would. His sole thought is immediate escape. He turns his back forever
      upon those dreadful shrubberies and flees as from the wrath to
      come. “But how with a gang? Their number would have inspired them with
      confidence; if, indeed confidence is ever wanting in the breast
      of the arrant blackguard; and of arrant blackguards alone are the
      supposed gangs ever constituted. Their number, I say, would have
      prevented the bewildering and unreasoning terror which I have
      imagined to paralyze the single man. Could we suppose an
      oversight in one, or two, or three, this oversight would have
      been remedied by a fourth. They would have left nothing behind
      them; for their number would have enabled them to carry all at
      once. There would have been no need of return. “Consider now the circumstance that in the outer garment of the
      corpse when found, ‘a slip, about a foot wide had been torn
      upward from the bottom hem to the waist wound three times round
      the waist, and secured by a sort of hitch in the back.’ This was
      done with the obvious design of affording a handle by which to
      carry the body. But would any number of men have dreamed of
      resorting to such an expedient? To three or four, the limbs of
      the corpse would have afforded not only a sufficient, but the
      best possible hold. The device is that of a single individual;
      and this brings us to the fact that ‘between the thicket and the
      river, the rails of the fences were found taken down, and the
      ground bore evident traces of some heavy burden having been
      dragged along it!’ But would a number of men have put themselves
      to the superfluous trouble of taking down a fence, for the
      purpose of dragging through it a corpse which they might have
      lifted over any fence in an instant? Would a number of men have
      so dragged a corpse at all as to have left evident traces of the
      dragging? “And here we must refer to an observation of Le Commerciel; an
      observation upon which I have already, in some measure,
      commented. ‘A piece,’ says this journal, ‘of one of the
      unfortunate girl’s petticoats was torn out and tied under her
      chin, and around the back of her head, probably to prevent
      screams. This was done by fellows who had no
      pocket-handkerchiefs.’

      “I have before suggested that a genuine blackguard is never
      without a pocket-handkerchief. But it is not to this fact that I
      now especially advert. That it was not through want of a
      handkerchief for the purpose imagined by Le Commerciel, that this
      bandage was employed, is rendered apparent by the handkerchief
      left in the thicket; and that the object was not ‘to prevent
      screams’ appears, also, from the bandage having been employed in
      preference to what would so much better have answered the
      purpose. But the language of the evidence speaks of the strip in
      question as ‘found around the neck, fitting loosely, and secured
      with a hard knot.’ These words are sufficiently vague, but differ
      materially from those of Le Commerciel. The slip was eighteen
      inches wide, and therefore, although of muslin, would form a
      strong band when folded or rumpled longitudinally. And thus
      rumpled it was discovered. My inference is this. The solitary
      murderer, having borne the corpse, for some distance (whether
      from the thicket or elsewhere) by means of the bandage hitched
      around its middle, found the weight, in this mode of procedure,
      too much for his strength. He resolved to drag the burthen—the
      evidence goes to show that it was dragged. With this object in
      view, it became necessary to attach something like a rope to one
      of the extremities. It could be best attached about the neck,
      where the head would prevent its slipping off.