The Newgate Calendar to 1799 vol 1
Author: Various
Date: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: true crime
Description: The first of 3 volumes of the new, or second, Newgate Calendar, 1741-1799, the sequel to the enormously successful original, continuing the reports to 1799. This volume covers 1741-1751
Publisher: Burke and Hare

THE NEWGATE CALENDAR 1741-1799

Part 1:  1741-1751

Contents

1741

1 Henry Cook; 2 Jonathan Bradford

1742

3 John Bodkin, Dominick Bodkin and Others; 4 Thomas Lyell and Lawrence Sydney; 5 Robert Ramsay; 6 John Jennings

1743

7 Robert Fuller; 8 William Chetwynd

1744

9 Lydia Adler

1745

10: Patrick Bourke and George Ellis; 11 Martha Tracy

1746

12 Matthew Henderson; 13 Mary Hamilton; 14 The Second Rebellion of 1745; 15 The Earl Of Kilmarnock, the Earl Of Cromartie, the Lord Balmerino; 16: Charles Ratcliffe; 17 Thomas Cappock;

1747

18 Lord Lovat; 19 Francis Townley, Jemmy Dawson and Others; 20: The Escape of the Pretender; 21 Joseph Rawlins, alias Great Joe; 22 George Lancaster; 23 Hosea Youell; 24 Henry Simms; 25 Serjeant Smith

1748

26 John Parkes; 27 William Whurrier; 28 William York; 29 George Cock; 30 Thomas Thompson; 31 John Whitmore and Jeremiah Dawes; 32 The Thief, the Priests, and the Great King of Prussia; 33: John Young

1749

34 Benjamin Tapner, John Cobby, John Hammond, Richard Mills, Richard Mills the Younger, and Others; 35 Usher Gahagan and Terence Conner; 36 Brian Seymour; 37 John Collington; 38: Richard Coleman; 39 Thomas Kingsmill, Fairall and Perin; 40 Samuel Couchman and John Morgan, Lieutenants Of Marines, Thomas Knight, Carpenter, and Others; 41 John Mills; 42 Thomas Neale and William Bowen; 43 Benjamin Neale; 44 Hugh Dawson and John Gammell; 45 Robert Cox; 46 Bosavern Penlez; 47 Ann Flynn

1750

48 Captain Clarke, R.N.; 49 Margaret Harvey; 50 James Cooper; 51 James Maclane; 52 Amy Hutchinson; 53 John Vicars; 54 John Carr; 55: George Anderson alias John Everett; 56 William Riley; 57 Thomas Reynolds

1751

58 Norman Ross

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1741

1: Henry Cook

Notorious Horse-Stealer and Highwayman, executed at Tyburn,

16th of December, 1741

HENRY COOK committed more robberies, singly, than Wild, Turpin or Hawke, and was long the terror of travellers on different roads, but particularly in Essex. The story of his career makes a long narrative of curious and daring exploits, with hairbreadth escapes, before he was taken.

Cook was the son of creditable parents in Houndsditch, who, having given him a decent education, apprenticed him to a leather cutter, with whom he served his time, and then his father took the shop of a shoemaker at Stratford, in Essex, in which he placed his son. Having some knowledge of the shoemaking business, he was soon well established, and married a young woman at Stratford, by whom he had three children, before he commenced as highwayman. However, it was not long after his marriage before the associating with bad company and the neglect of his business involved him so far in debt that he was obliged to quit his house in apprehension of the bailiffs. He was afterwards obliged wholly to decline business, and having taken up goods in the name of his father he was ashamed to make application to him for relief in his distress.

Among the idle acquaintances that Cook had made at Stratford was an apothecary, named Young, who was concerned with him in robbing gardens and fishponds, and in stealing poultry. The persons robbed offered a reward for apprehending the offenders, and Cook having been known to sell fowls at Leadenhall Market a warrant was granted to take him into custody; but, having notice of it, he concealed himself two months at the house of a relation at Grays, in Essex. During this retreat it was determined not to execute the warrant; but Cook, learning that a bailiff at Stratford had vowed to arrest him if he could be found, sent the officer a letter, advising him to consult his own safety, for he would blow his brains out if he should meet him.

This threat effectually intimidated the bailiff; and Cook, having dissipated all his cash, went to Stratford, where he found a man so intimate with his wife that he became enraged in the highest degree, and taking several articles of furniture with him went to London and sold them. This being done, he went to the house of a relation in Shoreditch, where he was treated with civility while his money lasted; but when that was nearly gone there was no further appearance of friendship; and, being now driven to extremity, he went to Moorfields, where he purchased a pair of pistols, and having procured powder and ball went towards Newington, on his way to which he robbed a man of fifteen shillings, and returned to London.

Thus embarked on the highroad to destruction, he determined to continue his dangerous trade; and on the following day went to Finchley Common, where he stopped a gentleman, the bridle of whose horse he seized, and ordered him to dismount on pain of death. The rider, complying, was robbed both of his money and horse; but he offered the highwayman three guineas if he would send the horse to an inn at St Albans, which he promised to do; but afterwards finding that he had a valuable acquisition in the beast he failed to restore him.

This robbery being committed, he crossed the country to Enfield Chase, and going to a public-house where he was known said that he wished to hide himself lest he should be arrested. Having continued here two days, he proceeded to Tottenham, where he robbed a gentleman of about six pounds, and leaving his horse at an inn in Bishopsgate Street he went to his kinsman's in Shoreditch, where he was interrogated respecting his possessing so much money; but he would give no satisfactory answer. On the following day he went on the St Albans Road, and having robbed the passengers of a stage-coach of eight pounds he went to Enfield Chase, to the house he had frequented before; but while he was there he read an advertisement in which his horse was so exactly described that he determined to abscond; on which he went to Hadley Common, near Barnet, where he robbed a gentleman, and taking his horse, gave the gentleman his own.

Soon after this he went to an inn at Mims, where he saw a gentleman whom he had formerly robbed, and was so terrified by the sight of the injured party that he ran to the stable, took his horse and galloped off with the utmost expedition. On the road between Mims and Barnet he was met by eight men on horseback, one of whom challenged the horse he rode, saying that a highwayman had stolen it from a gentleman of his acquaintance.

Our adventurer replied that he had bought the horse at the Bell, in Edmonton, of which he could give convincing proofs; on which the whole company determined to attend him to that place. But when he came near Edmonton he galloped up a lane, where he was followed by all the other parties; and finding himself in danger of being apprehended he faced his pursuers and, presenting a pistol, swore he would fire unless they retreated. Some countrymen coming up at this juncture, he must have been made prisoner, but, night advancing, he quitted his horse and took shelter in a wood.

When he thought he might safely leave his lurking-place he hastened to London, going to the house of his relation in Shoreditch, where he was challenged with having committed robberies on the highway; but nothing could be learned from the answers he gave. Having dissipated his present money, he went again upon Finchley Common. His late narrow escape, however, made such an impression on his mind that he suffered several persons to pass unattacked, but at length robbed an old man of his horse and five pounds, though not till after it was dark. Soon afterwards he met a gentleman, whom he obliged to change horses with him; but in a few minutes the gentleman was stopped by the owner of the stolen horse, who said a highwayman had just robbed him of it. Enraged at this, the gentleman swore the place was infested with thieves; however, he delivered the horse and walked to London.

Cook, riding to his old place of resort, near the Chase, remained there three days; but, seeing the horse he had last stolen advertised, he rode off in fear of discovery, and had not proceeded far before he was seized by the owner of the horse, assisted by three other persons, who conducted him to Newgate. At the next Old Bailey sessions he was indicted for stealing this horse; but acquitted, because the owner would not swear to his person.

Soon after his discharge he returned to his former practices, but, his affairs with his creditors having been by this time adjusted by his friends, he lived at Stratford with his wife, and committed his depredations chiefly in Epping Forest. Having acquired a booty of thirty pounds, he showed it to a journeyman he kept, named Taylor, and asked him how he might employ it to the best advantage in buying leather; but Taylor, guessing how it had been obtained, offered to go partners with his master in committing robberies on the highway; and the base contract was instantly made.

They now stopped a great number of coaches on the borders of the Forest; but acted with such an uncommon degree of caution that they were for a long time unsuspected. The neighbours being at length terrified by such repeated outrages on the public peace, a Captain Mawley took a place in the basket of the Colchester coach to make discoveries; and, Cook and Taylor coming up to demand the money of the passengers, Taylor was shot through the head; on which Cook ran to the Captain and robbed him of his money, on threats of instant death. The carriage driving on, Cook began to search his deceased companion for his money; but on some of the neighbours coming up he retired behind a hedge to listen to their conversation; and having found that some of them knew the deceased, and intimated that he had been accompanied by Cook, he crossed the fields to London.

Having spent three days in riot and dissipation, he went to his relation in Shoreditch, whom he requested to go to Stratford to inquire the situation of affairs there. When his relation returned, he told him there were several warrants issued against him, and advised him to go to sea. This he promised to do, but instead thereof he bought a horse and rode to Brentwood, in Essex, where he heard little conversation but of Cook, the famous highwayman of Stratford; and on the next day he followed a coach from the inn where he had put up, and took about thirty pounds from the passengers.

Cook now connected himself with a gang of desperate highwaymen in London, in conjunction with whom he stopped a coach near Bow, in which were some young gentlemen from a boarding-school. A Mr Cruikshanks riding up at this instant, one of the gang demanded his money; but as he hesitated to deliver it, another of them knocked him down and killed him on the spot; after which the robbers went to a public-house near Hackney Marsh, and divided the spoils of the evening.

Oppressed in mind by contemplation of his crimes, and particularly by reflecting on the murder of Mr Cruikshanks, Cook went to St Albans, where he assumed a new name, and worked as a journeyman shoemaker for about three weeks, when, a highwayman being pursued through the town, the terrors of his conscience on the occasion were such, that he hastily left the shop and ran across the country towards Woburn, in Bedfordshire. On  his way to Woburn he robbed a farmer of fifty pounds and his horse, and bade him sue the county. The farmer soon raised the hue-and-cry; but Cook escaped, and, riding as far as Birmingham, took lodgings at a public-house, and disposed of his horse. Cook had now taken the name of Stevens, and the landlord of the house where he lodged telling him that there was a shop to let, he took it, and entered into business as a shoemaker. He now hired one Mrs Barrett as his housekeeper, but she soon became his more intimate companion; and accompanying him to horse-races, and other places of public diversion, his little money was soon dissipated. Thus situated, he told his housekeeper that he had an aunt in Hertfordshire, who allowed him a hundred per annum, which he received in quarterly payments; and that he would go to her for his money. Under this pretence he left her, and went to Northampton, and from thence to Dunstable, near which place he robbed a farmer of his horse and sixteen pounds, and then rode to Daventry.

At this last place he met with a Manchester dealer going home from London, and, having spent the evening together, they travelled in company next day and dined at Coventry. Cook, having an intention of robbing his fellow-traveller, intimated that it would be proper to conceal their money, as they had a dangerous road to travel; and, putting his own money into his boot, the other put a purse of gold into his side-pocket. Prosecuting their journey till they came to a cross-road, Cook demanded his companion's money, on pain of immediate death; and having robbed him of thirty-five guineas he travelled immediately to Birmingham; so Mrs Barrett imagined he had been supplied by his aunt, agreeable to the story he had told her.

He now carried on trade as usual; but as often as he was distressed for cash he used to have recourse to the road, and recruited his pockets by robbing the stages. At length, a London trader, coming to Birmingham, asked Cook how long he had lived there, which terrified him so that he quitted the place, and travelled towards London, and near Highgate robbed a gentleman, named Zachary, of his horse and money. On his stolen horse he rode to Epping Forest on the following day; and, having robbed a gentleman, returned to London by the way of Stratford, at which place he spoke to a number of his old acquaintances, but was not imprudent enough to quit his horse.

Going to a house he had frequented at Newington Green, he sent for his relation who lived near Shoreditch, who advised him to make his escape, or he would certainly be taken into custody. On this he went to Mims; and on his relation visiting him Cook begged he would sell five watches for him; but the other declined it, recommending him to dispose of them himself in London. On the following evening, when it was almost dark, he rode towards town, and observing a chaise behind him permitted it to pass, and followed it to the descent of the hill towards Holloway. There were two gentlemen in the chaise, whose money Cook demanded; but instead of complying they drove on the faster; on which he fired and wounded one of them in the arm; but the report of the pistol bringing some people towards the spot he galloped off, and went to Mims, his old place of retreat. Coming to London next day to sell his watches, he was seen in Cheapside by a woman who knew him, and followed him to Norton Folgate, where, observing him to go into a public-house, she went and procured a constable, who took him into custody, and found on him five watches and about nine pounds in money.

On his examination before a magistrate, Mr Zachary, whom he had robbed near Highgate, swearing to the identity of his person, he was committed to Newgate; but not before he had offered to become evidence against some accomplices he pretended to have had; but this offer was rejected. He now formed a scheme to murder the keepers and to make his escape; but, being detected, he was confined to the cells, and, being brought to his trial at the Old Bailey, was capitally convicted.

After sentence of death he for some time affected a gaiety of behaviour; but when the warrant for his execution arrived he was so struck with the idea of his approaching fate that it occasioned convulsive fits, and he never afterwards recovered his health.

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2: Jonathan Bradford

Executed at Oxford for a Murder he had contemplated but did not
commit

JONATHAN BRADFORD kept an inn at the city of Oxford. A gentleman (Mr Hayes), attended by a man-servant, one evening put up at Bradford's house, and in the night the former was found murdered in his bed, and the landlord was apprehended on suspicion of having committed the crime.

The evidence given against him was to the following effect.

Two gentlemen who had supped with Mr Hayes, and who retired at the same time to their respective chambers, being alarmed in the night with a noise in his room, and soon hearing groans as of a wounded man, got up in order to discover the cause, and found their landlord, with a dark lantern and a knife in his hand, in a state of astonishment and horror, over his dying guest, who almost instantly expired.

On this evidence the jury convicted Bradford, and he was executed; but the fate of this man may serve as an additional lesson to jurymen to be extremely guarded in receiving circumstantial evidence. At a trial at Nisi Prius, and between personal right and wrong, the jury are often directed by the judge to take into consideration presumptive evidence where positive proof is wanting; but in criminal charges, it seldom should, unsupported by some oral testimony, or ocular demonstration, be sufficient to find a verdict against the accused.

The facts attending this dreadful tragedy were not fully brought to light until the deathbed confession of the real murderer, a time when we must all endeavour to make our peace with God.

Mr Hayes was a man of considerable property, and greatly respected. He had about him, when his sad destiny led him under the roof of Bradford, a considerable sum of money. The landlord, knowing this, determined to murder and rob him. For this horrid purpose he proceeded with a dark lantern and a carving-knife, intending to cut the throat of his guest, while yet sleeping; but what must have been his astonishment and confusion to find his victim already murdered by a servant!

The wicked and unworthy servant had also contemplated murdering his master, and had just committed the bloody deed, and secured his treasure, a moment before the landlord entered for the same purpose!

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1742

3: John Bodkin, Dominick Bodkin and Others

Executed in Ireland on 26th of March, 1742, for the Murder of

Eleven Persons

OLIVER BODKIN, Esq., was a gentleman who possessed a good estate near Tuam, in Ireland. He had two sons, by two wives. The elder son, named John, to whom this narrative chiefly relates, was sent to Dublin to study the law; and the younger, who was about seven years of age, remained at home with his parents. The young student lived in a very dissipated manner at Dublin, and, soon quitting his studies, came and resided near his father's place of abode. The father allowed him a certain annual sum for his support; but, as he lived beyond his allowance, he demanded further assistance. The father, however, refusing to accede to his wishes, he determined upon a horrible revenge, and included his stepmother in his proposed scheme of vengeance, as he imagined that she had induced his father to refuse him any further aid.

Having engaged his cousin, Dominick Bodkin, his father's shepherd, John Hogan, and another ruffian of the name of Burke, to assist him in the intended murders, they went to the house of Mr Bodkin, senior, whose household consisted of four men and three women servants, exclusive of Mrs Bodkin and the younger son, and a gentleman named Lynch, who was at that time on a visit there. They found all the members of the family at supper on their arrival, and, having murdered them, they went into the kitchen, where they killed three servant-maids; and, finding the men in different parts of the house, they also sacrificed them to their brutal and unprovoked rage.

The murder of eleven persons being thus perpetrated, they quitted the fatal spot; and when some persons from Tuam came the next morning to speak with Mr Bodkin on business they found the house open, and beheld the dead body of Mr Lynch, near which lay that of Mrs Bodkin, hacked and mangled in a shocking manner; and, at a small distance, her husband, with his throat cut, and the child lying dead across his breast. The throats of the maid-servants in the kitchen were all cut; and the men-servants in another room were also found murdered. The assassins had even been so wanton in their cruelties as to kill all the dogs and cats in the house. The neighbours being alarmed by such a singular instance of barbarity, a suspicion fell on John Bodkin; who, being taken into custody, confessed all the tragical circumstances above mentioned, and impeached his accomplices: on which the other offenders were taken into custody, and all of them were committed to the jail of Tuam.

When they were brought to trial John Bodkin (the parricide), Dominick Bodkin and John Hogan pleaded guilty, and they were all condemned and executed at Tuam, on the 26th of March, 1742. The head of the shepherd was fixed on Tuam market-house, and the bodies of the others gibbeted within sight of the house where the murders had been committed.

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4: Thomas Lyell And Lawrence Sydney

Swindlers, who cheated with Loaded Dice and were pilloried for

Fraud, 2nd of June, 1742

IN April, 1740, these pests to society were committed to Newgate, charged on the oaths of several gentlemen of distinction, with cheating and defrauding them with false and loaded dice at the masquerade, on Thursday morning, about three o'clock, to the amount of four hundred pounds.

It also appeared, on their examination, which lasted from six o'clock in the morning till three in the afternoon, that they had cheated a number of other gentlemen of upward of four thousand pounds more. Nine pairs of dice were found upon the sharpers, and on being cut asunder they were all, except one, loaded --that is, to introduce a piece of lead in a direction into the die which, when thrown, will generally turn a number suited to the owner's game.

They were brought to the bar of the Old Bailey for these infamous practices, and after a long trial, in which such scenes of iniquity were discovered to have been committed by sharpers of this description as astonished the Court and jury, Lyell and Sydney were found guilty, and sentenced to be imprisoned one year, and during that time to be pilloried.

On the 12th of June, 1742, above two years after, Thomas Lyell and Lawrence Sydney, the principals of the gang, were brought out of Newgate and carried to the Haymarket, where a pillory had been erected to receive them, facing the Opera House― the scene of their depredation― amid the scoffs and taunts of an enraged populace.

The following evidence given in the Court of King's Bench, the 29th of November, 1796, will discover some of the tricks of this description of swindlers.

A cause came on before Lord Chief Justice Kenyon, on the statute against gaming, and one John Shepherd being called as a witness for the injured party, he swore that he saw hazard played at the gaming-house of the defendant in Leicester Street. Every person who was three times successful, paid the defendant a silver medal, which he purchased from him, on entering the house, at eight for a guinea, and he received six or seven of these in the course of an hour for the Box Hands, as it was called. The people who frequented this house always played for a considerable sum. Sometimes twenty or thirty pounds depended on a single throw of the dice. The witness remembered being once at the defendant's gaming-house, about three or four o'clock in the morning, when a gentleman came in very much in liquor. He seemed to have a great deal of money about him. The defendant said he had not intended to play, but now he would set to with this fellow. He then scraped a little wax with his finger off one of the candles, and put the dice together, so that they came seven every way. After doing this, he dropped them into the box and threw them out, and afterwards drew all the money away, saying he had won it. Seven was the main and he could not throw anything but seven. The young gentleman said he had not given him time to bar. A dispute arose between the defendant and him; it was referred to two or three persons round the table, and they gave it in favour of the defendant. The gentleman said be had lost upward of seventy pounds. The defendant said: "We have cleared him." The witness had seen a man pawn his watch and ring, in several instances, and once he saw a man pawn his coat and go away without it.

After the gaming-table was broken by the Bow Street officers, the defendant said it was too good a thing to be given up, and instantly got another table, large enough for twenty or thirty people. The frequenters of this house used to play till daylight, and on one or two occasions they played all the next day. This is what the defendant called "sticking to it rarely." The guests were furnished with wine and suppers gratis, from the funds of the partnership, in abundance. Sunday was a grand day. The witness had seen more than forty people there at a time. The table not being sufficient for the whole, half-a-crown used on such occasions to be given for a seat, and those behind looked over the backs of the others and betted.

The person above mentioned (whose name was Smith) who pawned his coat corroborated the above evidence; and added that he had seen a person, after he had lost all his money, throw off his coat, and go away, losing it also.

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5: Robert Ramsey

Highwayman, and a singular Cheat. Executed at Tyburn on the 13th of June, 1742

THIS offender was born near Grosvenor Square, and apprenticed to an apothecary, after being liberally educated at Westminster School. His master's circumstances becoming embarrassed, Ramsey left him and went into the service of another gentleman of the same profession.

He then became a professed gamester. The billiard and hazard tables engrossed his time, and his skill being great he often stripped his companions; yet the money he thus obtained he dissipated in the most extravagant manner.

Having made an acquaintance with one Carr, they singled out a clergyman who frequented the coffee-house they used as a proper object to impose upon; and having ingratiated themselves into his good opinion, Ramsey took the opportunity of Carr's absence to tell the clergyman that he had a secret of the utmost consequence to impart; and the clergyman having promised secrecy, the other said that Carr was in love with a young widow, who was very rich and inclined to marry him, but that the match was opposed by her relations.

He added that the lady herself was averse to being married at the Fleet, even if she could escape the vigilance of her relations so far as to reach that place. The clergyman listening to the story, Ramsey offered him twenty guineas to marry the young couple, and it was agreed that the parties should meet at a tavern near the Royal Exchange on the following day.

Ramsey, having told Carr what had passed, went to the clergyman the next morning, and, observing that if the lady took her own footman he might be known, said he would disguise himself in livery and attend the priest. This being done, a hackney-coach was called for the clergyman, and, Ramsey getting up behind it, they drove to the tavern, where rich wines were called for, of which Ramsey urged the clergyman to drink so freely that he fell asleep, when Ramsey picked his pocket of his keys.

The gentleman, awaking, inquired for the couple that were to be married, on which Ramsey, calling for more wine, said he would go in search of them; but immediately calling a coach he went to the clergyman's lodgings and, producing the keys, said he  had been sent by the gentleman for some papers in his cabinet. The landlady of the house, seeing the keys, permitted him to search for what he wanted; on which he stole a diamond ring, of the value of forty pounds, and about a hundred pounds in money, and carried off some papers.

This being done he returned to the clergyman, said that the young couple would attend in a short time, and desired him to order a genteel dinner; but this last injunction was unnecessary, for the parson had taken previous care of it; and while he was at dinner Ramsey said he would go and order a diamond and a plain ring, and would return immediately.

He had not been long absent when a jeweller brought the rings, which he said were for a baronet and his lady, who were coming to be married. The clergyman asked him to drink the healths of the young couple; and just at this juncture Ramsey came in and told the jeweller that he was instantly wanted at home, but that he must return without loss of time, as his master's arrival was immediately expected.

The jeweller was no sooner gone than Ramsey, taking up the diamond ring, said that he had brought a wrong one, and he would go back and rectify the mistake. In the interim the jeweller, finding that he had not been wanted at home, began to suspect that some undue artifice had been used; on which he hurried to the tavern, and thought himself happy to find that the parson had not decamped.

Having privately directed the waiter to procure a constable he charged the clergyman with defrauding him of the rings. The other was naturally astonished at such a charge; but the jeweller insisted on taking him before a magistrate, where he related a tale that, some days before, those rings had been ordered by a man whom he supposed to be an accomplice of the person now charged. But the clergyman, being a man of fair character, sent for some reputable people to bail him; while the jeweller returned home, cursing his ill fortune for the trick that had been put on him.

London being an unsafe place for Ramsey longer to reside in, he went to Chester, where he assumed the name of Johnson, dressed himself as a physician, and printed and dispersed handbills, giving an account of many patients whose disorders had yielded to his skill. By promising to cure the poor without expense, no person doubted either the character or abilities of Dr Johnson.

A young lady who was troubled with an asthma became one of his patients; and Ramsey, presuming that she possessed a good fortune, insinuated himself so far into her good graces that she would have married him, but that her uncle, in whose hands her money was, happened to come to Chester at that juncture.

During this situation of affairs, while Ramsey was walking without the city, he happened to see the clergyman whom he had so much injured in London; on which he hastily retired to a public-house in Chester, and sent a person to Park Gate, to inquire when any ship would sail for Ireland: and the answer brought was that a vessel would sail that very night.

On receiving this intelligence, Ramsey went and drank tea with the young lady; and taking the opportunity of her absence from the room he opened a drawer, whence he took a diamond ring and fifty guineas out of eighty which were in a bag.

He then went to Dublin, and later came to the metropolis, where he found his younger brother, who had likewise supported himself by acts of dishonesty; and the two brothers agreed to act in concert. Having taken a previous survey of Mr Glyn's house, at the corner of Hatton Garden, the brothers broke into it in the night, and carried off a quantity of plate; but, handbills being immediately circulated, they were taken into custody while offering the plate for sale to a Jew in Duke's Place. The Lord Mayor, on examining the prisoners, admitted the younger brother an evidence against the elder.

At the next sessions at the Old Bailey it was an affecting scene to behold the one brother giving evidence against the other, who was capitally convicted and received sentence of death. At the place of execution Ramsey made an affecting address to the surrounding multitude; entreating the younger part of the audience to avoid gaming, as what would infallibly lead to destruction.

After the customary devotions on such melancholy occasions he was turned off, and the body, having hung the usual time, was conveyed in a hearse to Giltspur Street, and decently interred by his friends.

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6: John Jennings

Executed at York, in the year 1742, on a charge of robbery, of which he
was innocent.

THIS unfortunate man was the victim of his master, in order to screen himself from the vengeance of the law. He was a waiter at the Bell Inn, near Hull, in Yorkshire, kept by a villain of the name of James Brunel.

A robbery, had lately been committed on the highway, on an old man, a reputed miser; and who, for greater safety, generally carried a bag of gold about him. The old man, soon after being robbed, casually went into the Bell; and going up to the bar, saw Brunel, the landlord, with one of his guineas in his hand, and some shillings, which he was, paying away to a carrier, which were all marked, so that he could identify them. He consequently suspected that the landlord was the robber, and related the circumstance to some other persons in the house.

Brunel overheard the conversation, and to secure himself, instantly formed and executed a design to impute the robbery to his waiter, Jennings, who had gone early to sleep, in a state of intoxication. To this wicked end, he went to his bed, and put the purse, taken from the old man, with the greater part of its contents, in the unfortunate man's pocket, without waking him; and then coming down to the company, told them, that he believed he had found the thief.

"I have," continued the villain, "long suspected Jennings, one of my waiters, and about five hours ago I gave him a guinea to get changed; he same back in liquor, and returned me a guinea, which I am sure is not the same which I gave him."

He then produced the guinea, which being marked, was claimed by the old man. It was now proposed that Jennings should be searched, which was done, and the purse being found upon him, he was committed, tried, condemned, and executed.

Brunel, being convicted of another, robbery, confessed these facts.

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1743

7: Robert Fuller

Convicted of shooting Mr Bailey, June Sessions, 1743, and pardoned because he was wrongly identified

AT the sessions held at the Old Bailey in the month of May, 1743, Robert Fuller, of Harefield, in Middlesex, was indicted for shooting at Francis Bailey, with a gun loaded with powder and small stones, and demanding his money, with intent to rob him.

Mr Bailey deposed that, as he was returning from Uxbridge Market, he saw a man near Harefield sitting on a stile, having a gun in his hand; that he jumped off the stile, seized the horse's bridle, clapped the gun to Mr Bailey's body, and threatened to shoot him. Mr Bailey said: "That will do you no good, nor me neither." He then put his hand repeatedly into Bailey's pocket; but the latter would not submit to be robbed, and rode off. Immediately on which, Fuller shot at him, and wounded him in the right arm, so as to break the bone in splinters; and many stones, and bits of the bone, were afterwards taken out of the arm: nor did the prosecutor recover of the wound till after languishing nearly twenty weeks. The prisoner, however, had not an opportunity of robbing Mr Bailey, as his horse took fright and ran away at the report of the gun.

The substance of Mr Bailey's further deposition was, that this happened about seven o'clock in the evening, on the 24th of February; but that, as it was a clear starlight night, he had a full view of the prisoner, whom he had known before.

Bailey was now asked if he had ever been examined before any Justice of the Peace in relation to the fact; to which he answered in the negative. He was then asked if he had never charged the crime on any other person except the prisoner, which he steadily denied having done.

In contradiction to which, a commitment was produced, in which Thomas Bowry was charged with assaulting Francis Bailey, with an intent to rob, and this Bowry was continued in custody, on the affidavit of Mr Mellish, a surgeon, that Mr Bailey was so ill of the wounds he had received that he could not come to London without danger of his life, but Bowry was discharged at the jail delivery at the end of the sessions for June, 1743.

The copy of Bowry's commitment was now read, and authenticated by Richard Akerman, clerk of the papers to his father, and then keeper of Newgate.

On this contradictory evidence the characters of both parties were inquired into, when that of the prosecutor appeared to be very fair, that of the prisoner rather doubtful.

Upon considering the whole matter, the jury gave a verdict that he was guilty, but on account of the circumstance above mentioned, relating to the commitment of Bowry for the same offence, on Bailey's oath, they recommended the prisoner in the court as a proper object of the Royal clemency, and he was accordingly pardoned.

This affair is one ot that intricate nature, which must remain involved in mystery. It is impossible for us to say whether the prosecutor was, or was not, mistaken in the man against whom he swore; but we see that he had sworn the same fact, with equal positiveness, against Bowry: and this circumstance evinces the great propriety of the jury recommending the convict to mercy, where there is even but a bare probability remaining of his innocence. In doubtful cases we should always incline to the side of mercy; and it ought to be remembered, to the credit of the court at the Old Bailey, that this rule is constantly attended to; and it is a known fact, that persons charged with capital offences have been frequently heard to declare, that they would rather take their trials at the Old Bailey, than in any other court in the kingdom.

On this occasion it may not be improper to make a remark on the immense power that is lodged in the breasts of our judges who go the circuits. A great deal of this power is discretionary: it remains with then to reprieve the convict, or to leave him for execution: an awful trust which makes the possessor of it accountable to God and his own conscience. We have no idea but that all the present judges exert their power in the mildest manner: but times have been, when magistrates have wantonly sported with their authority, to the destruction of the innocent, and the eternal disgrace of themselves.

This circumstance should hold forth a lesson of caution, never to trust the authority of a judge but with a man distinguished equally by his knowledge, integrity, and humanity.

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8: William Chetwynd

A Curious Case of a Schoolboy who killed another Boy during a Quarrel about a Cake, and was convicted of Manslaughter, October, 1743

THIS unfortunate young gentleman was placed at the academy in Soho Square, and at the same school was a youth named Thomas Rickets, then in the nineteenth year of his age.

At the sessions held in the Old Bailey in October, 1743, the above-named William Chetwynd, who was fifteen years of age, was indicted for the murder of Thomas Rickets, and was likewise indicted on the statute of stabbing.

Mr Chetwynd being in possession of a piece of cake, Rickets asked him for some of it, on which he gave him a small piece; but refusing to give him a second, which he desired, he cut off a piece for himself, and laid it on a bureau, while he went to lock up the chief part of the cake for his own use. In the interim Rickets took the cake which had been left on the bureau, and when Chetwynd returned and demanded it he refused to deliver it; on which a dispute arose, and Chetwynd, having still in his hand the knife with which he had cut the cake, wounded the other in the left side of the belly.

Hannah Humphreys, a servant in the house, coming at that time into the room, Rickets said that he was stabbed, and complained much of the pain that he felt from the wound. On which Humphreys said to Chetwynd: "You have done very well"; to which the latter replied: "If I have hurt him, I am very sorry for it."

The wounded youth, being carried to bed, languished three days under the hands of the surgeons, and then expired. In the interim Chetwynd, terrified at what had happened, quitted the school; but as soon as he heard of the death of Rickets he went to a magistrate, to abide the equitable decision of a verdict of his countrymen; and he was brought to his trial at the time and place above mentioned.

The counsel on behalf of the prisoner acknowledged the great candour of the gentlemen who were concerned for the prosecution, in their not endeavouring to aggravate the circumstances attending the offence. They also confessed the truth of all that had been sworn by the witnesses; but they insisted, on behalf of the accused party, that though his hand might have made an unhappy blow, his heart was innocent.

The following is the substance of their arguments on the case: They said that the fact could not amount to murder at common law, which Lord Coke defines to be "an unlawful killing another man aforethought," either expressed by the party, or implied by the law. They said, that in this case, there was not the least malice, as the young gentlemen were friends, not only at the time, but to the close of Ricket's life, when he declared that he forgave the other.

They said, that it being proved that there was a friendship subsisting, it would be talking against the sense of mankind to say the law could imply any thing contrary to what was plainly proved. That deliberation and cruelty of disposition, make the essential difference between manslaughter and murder; and they quoted several legal authorities in support of this doctrine.

One of their arguments was urged in the following words:

"Shall the young boy at the bar, who was doing a lawful act, be said to be guilty of murder? He was rescuing what was his own: the witnesses have told you, that after he had given Rickets a piece of cake, Rickets went to him for more; he denied to give it him, he had a right to keep his cake, and the other had no right to take it: and he had a right to retake it."

There are cases in the books which make a difference between murder and manslaughter. If a man takes up a bar of iron, and throws it at another, it is murder: and the difference in the crime lies between the person's taking it up, and having it in his hand. Chetwynd had the knife in his hand, and upon that a provocation ensues, for he did not take the knife up; if he had, that would have shown an intention to do mischief. It may be doubted, whether or no when he had this knife in his hand for a lawful purpose, and in an instant struck the other, he considered he had the knife in his hand; for if in his passion he intended to strike with his hand, it is not a striking with the knife.

"At the beginning of the fray, Rickets had a knife in his hand; and it was one continued act. And another question is, whether there was not a struggle; here was the cake taken, and in endeavouring to get it again, this accident happens; at the first taking of the cake, it is in evidence, that Chetwynd was not forced to extend his arms, unless the other was coming to take it from him, and then a struggle is a blow.

"The counsel for the crown, submitted it to the court, whether (since the only points insisted on by way of defence for the prisoner, were questions at law, in which the jury were to be guided by their opinion,) the facts proved and admitted did not clearly, in the first place, amount to murder at common law; and in the second place, whether there could be the least doubt in point of law, but that the case was within the statute of 1 James I.

"Upon the first it was admitted, that to constitute murder there must be malice.

"But it was argued, that malice was of two kinds, either expressed and in fact, or implied by law.

"But when one person kills another without provocation, it is murder, because the law presumes and implies malice from the act done. And therefore, whenever any person kills another it is murder, unless some sufficient provocation appear. But it is not every provocation that extenuates the killing of a man from murder into manslaughter. A slight or trivial provocation is the same as none, and is not allowed in law to be any justification or excuse for the death of another. And therefore no words of reproach or infamy, whatever provoking circumstances they may be attended with; no affronting gestures, or deriding postures, however insolent or malicious, are allowed to be put in balance with the life of a man, and to extenuate the offence from murder to manslaughter.

"Applying the rules of law to the present case, it was plain, that the violent act done, bore no proportion to the provocation. All the provocation given was taking up a piece of cake, which is not such an offence, as can justify the prisoner's attacking the person who took it up, with an instrument, that apparently endangered his life, or rather carried certain death along with it.

"Mr Rickets was stabbed, having then no weapon drawn in his hand, and not having before struck the person who stabbed him. It is plainly within the intention; which is declared in the preamble to have been in order to punish stabbing or killing upon the sudden, committed in rage, or any other passion of the mind, &c. and therefore it was submitted to the court, whether upon the facts proved and not denied, the consequence of the law was not clear that the prisoner was guilty within both indictments."

Mr Baron Reynolds and Mr Recorder, before whom the prisoner was tried, taking notice of the points of law that had arisen, the learned arguments of the counsel, and the many cases cited upon this occasion, were of opinion that it would be proper to have the facts found specially.

A special verdict was accordingly agreed on by all parties, and drawn up in the usual manner― viz. by giving a true state of the facts as they appeared in evidence, and concluding thus:―

"We find that the deceased was about the age of nineteen, and Mr Chetwynd about the age of fifteen; and that of this wound the deceased died on the 29th of the said September; but whether, upon the whole, the prisoner is guilty of all or any of the said indictment, the jurors submit to the judgment of the Court."

In consequence of this special verdict the case was argued before the twelve judges, who deemed Chetwynd to have been guilty of manslaughter only; whereupon he was set at liberty, after being burned in the hand.

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1744

9: Lydia Adler

Burned in the Hand for killing her Husband, who had four Wives.

THIS woman was tried at the Old Bailey, at the sessions held in June, 1744, for the wilful murder of her husband, John Adler, by throwing him on the ground, kicking and stamping on his groin, and giving him thereby a mortal bruise, of which he languished in St Bartholomew's Hospital from the 11th till the 23rd of May, and then died; and she was again indicted on the coroner's inquest for manslaughter.

Hannah Adler, daughter of the deceased, swore that he told her that his wife had given him the wounds which afterwards occasioned his death.

Benjamin Barton deposed that the deceased came to him, on the 11th of May, with a bloody handkerchief about his head, and asked him for a spare bed, saying: "This infernal fiend [meaning his wife] will be the death of me." But Barton, knowing the woman to be of a very turbulent disposition, refused to lodge the man. After this he visited him every other day during his illness, and he very often said: "I wish, Mr Barton, you would be so good as to get a warrant to secure this woman, for she will be the death of me"; and two hours before he died he inquired if such a warrant was procured; and desired that Barton would see her brought to justice, which he promised he would, if it lay in his power.

Hannah Adler, being further questioned, said that her father died between twelve and one o'clock; that about two hours and a half before he said: "I am a dead man, and this lady [the prisoner] has killed me." That after this he repeatedly declared that his wife was the person that had murdered him, and begged that she might be brought to justice. His last declaration was made only about ten minutes before he died.

Mr Godman, a surgeon, deposed that the husband died of a mortification, occasioned by a blow; but acknowledged that the deceased had a rupture, and that such a blow as he had received would not have hurt a person in sound health.

The prisoner in her defence said that her husband had two wives besides her; and that a quarrel happening between her and one of the wives, the husband endeavoured to part them, and in so doing fell down, and the other woman fell on him; but that she herself never lifted hand or foot against him.

Joseph Steel deposed that the deceased had had four wives; that he was kind to them all at the first, but afterwards used to beat them severely; and that he had seen the prisoner and her husband frequently fight together.

The jury gave a verdict of manslaughter; in consequence of which she was burned in the hand.

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1745

10: Patrick Bourke and George Ellis

Executed at Tyburn, 20th of February, 1745, for Sheep-Stealing

BY an Act of Parliament passed in the fourteenth year of the reign of King George II., for the security of farmers and graziers, it is thus enacted:

"If any person or persons, after the first day of May, 1741, shall feloniously drive away or in any manner feloniously steal any sheep, or shall wilfully kill one or more sheep, with intent to steal the whole or any part of the carcasses, the person or persons so offending shall suffer death, without benefit of clergy."

This law denounces the punishment of death to any person offending against it, and though the crime is frequently committed, few are executed for sheep-stealing, as the law is seldom put in force owing to the humanity of the judges or the prosecutors, who probably consider that the offence is committed in consequence of the calls of hunger, and dread of starving. The offence of these men were not however of that description, as they destroyed whole flocks, in order to get possession of the fat, and deserved as severe a punishment as any other robbers.

Patrick Bourke and George Ellis were indicted at the sessions held at the Old Bailey in December, 1744, for killing fifteen ewe sheep, the property of John Messenger, of Kensington, with intention to steal part of the carcasses -- to wit, the fat near the kidneys.

Mr Messenger deposed that he had lost fifteen ewes; that their throats were cut, their bellies ripped open, and the fat taken out; and likewise said that he had lost twenty-seven lambs, which were taken out of those ewes; and he deposed that the prisoners both confessed the crime before Sir Thomas Devil on the Tuesday following; and that Bourke acknowledged they sold the fat to a tallow-chandler, for forty-one shillings and twopence-halfpenny.

Richard Twyford proved the finding the sheep ripped open, and the fat taken out; and that the lambs were dragging by the sides of them: and swore that the prisoners had owned the taking the gates from the farm to pen the sheep up.

Joseph Agnew, a constable, swore that Ellis came to him; and after having told him of a quarrel between him and Bourke, who had given him two black eyes, he acknowledged that he had been concerned with him in the commission of the crime above- mentioned. Hereupon the constable took with him three watchmen, and going to Bourke's lodgings, seized him in bed, and found a clasp-knife, laying on the ground near the feet of the bed, on which was some fat, which likewise remained when the knife was produced in court on the trial.

Bourke, in his defence, said that he was kept drunk by the constable in order to induce him to make a confession, but this not being credited by the jury, and there being other proofs of the fact having been acknowledged, they were capitally convicted, and received sentence of death. They were hanged at Tyburn, on 20th of February, 1745.

At the summer assizes in 1757, for the county of Lincoln, a deaf and dumb man, called Matthew Pullen, was indicted for sheep-stealing. The court ordered a jury to be impanelled, not to try him for larceny, but to inquire whether he stood mute by the act of Providence, or through obstinacy. It was proved by his father-in-law, and some neighbours, that from his infancy he was deaf and dumb, and the jury therefore brought in their verdict, 'that he stood mute by the act of God,' and he was discharged in gaol delivery.

There being no punishment for the deaf and dumb, any more than for those that are proved non compos mentis, the actions of both ought to be kept under restraint. This deaf and dumb sheep-stealer, must certainly have been conscious that he was doing wrong when he stole his neighbour's sheep, and it seems unreasonable that he should escape without some punishment, as such a precedent may prove very injurious in its consequences, for it implies that any person who is deaf and dumb is at liberty to steal sheep with impunity.

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11: Martha Tracy

Executed for a Street Robbery

THE melancholy fate of this unfortunate woman is another instance of the misery occasioned by that licentiousness, which is of all vices the most destructive of the happiness of females, and so disgraceful to the British metropolis.

This much injured woman was a native of Bristol, and descended from poor parents, who educated her in the best manner in their power. Getting a place in the service of a merchant when she was sixteen years of age, she lived with him three years, and then came to London.

Having procured a place in a house where lodgings were let to single gentlemen, and being a girl of an elegant appearance, and fond of dress, she was liable to a variety of temptations.

Her vanity being even more than equal to her beauty, she at length conceived that she had made a conquest of one of the gentlemen-lodgers, and was foolish enough to think he would marry her.

With a view of keeping alive the passion she thought she had inspired, she sought every pretence of going into his chamber; and he, having some designs against her virtue, purchased her some new clothes, in which she went to church on the following Sunday, where she was observed by her mistress.

On their return from church, the mistress strictly inquired how she came to be possessed of such fine clothes; and, having learnt the real state of the case, she was discharged from her service on the Monday morning.

As she still thought the gentleman intended marriage, she wrote to him, desiring he would meet her at a public-house; and, on his attending, she wept incessantly, and complained of the treatment she had met with from her mistress, which she attributed to the presents she had received from him.

The seducer advised her to calm her spirits, and go into lodgings, which he would immediately provide for her, and here he could securely visit her till the marriage should take place.

Deluded by this artifice, she went that day to lodge at a house in the Strand, which he said was kept by a lady who was related to him. In this place he visited her on the following, and several successive days; attending her to public places, and making her presents of elegant clothes, which effectually flattered her vanity, and lulled asleep the small remains of her virtue.

It is needless to say that her ruin followed. After a connexion of a few months, she found him less frequent in his visits; and, informing him that she was with child, demanded that he would make good his promise of marriage: on which he declared that he had never intended to marry her, and that he would not maintain her any longer; and hinted that she should seek another lodging.

On the following day the mistress of the house told her she must not remain there any longer, unless she would pay for her lodgings in advance, which being unable to do, or, perhaps, unwilling to remain in a house where she had been so unworthily treated, she packed up her effects, and removed to another lodging.

When she was brought to bed, the father took away the infant, and left the wretched mother in a very distressed situation. Having subsisted for some time by pawning her clothes, she was at length so reduced as to listen to the advice of a woman of the town, who persuaded her to procure a subsistence by the casual wages of prostitution.

Having embarked in the horrid course of life, she soon became a common street-walker, and experienced all those calamities incident to so deplorable a situation. Being sometimes tempted to pick pockets for a subsistence, she became an occasional visitor at Bridewell, where her mind grew only the more corrupt by the conversation of the abandoned wretches confined in that place.

We now come to speak of the fact, the commission of which forfeited her life to the violated laws of her country.

At the sessions held at the Old Bailey, in the month of January, 1745, she was indicted for robbing William Humphreys of a guinea on the king's highway.

The fact was, that being passing, at midnight, near Northumberland House, in the Strand, she accosted Mr Humphreys, who declining to hold any correspondence with her, two fellows with whom she was connected came up, and one of them knocking him down, they both ran away; when she robbed him of a guinea, which she concealed in her mouth; but Mr Humphreys seizing her, and two persons coming up, she was conducted to the watch-house, where the guinea was found in her mouth, as above mentioned, by the constable of the night.

At her trial it was proved that she had called the men, one of whom knocked down the prosecutor; so that there could be no doubt of her being an accomplice with them; whereupon the jury brought her in guilty.

After conviction she appeared to have a proper idea of her former guilt, and the horrors of her present situation. In fact she was a sincere penitent, and lamented that pride of heart which had first seduced her to destruction.

Martha Tracy was hanged at Tyburn, on the 16th of February, 1745, behaving with the greatest decency and propriety to the last moment of her life.

The fate of this woman affords a striking lesson to girls against the taking pride in those personal charms which, the more brilliant they are, will be only the more likely to lead them to destruction. The idea she had formed of making a conquest of a man in a rank of life superior to her own served only to assist towards her ruin; but we cannot help thinking that he who could be base enough to seduce her under solemn promises of marriage was still more guilty than herself, and in some degree an accessory to all the crimes she afterwards committed.

It seems strangely unnatural that the father should take away the child, and leave the mother to perish, or to subsist only in a most infamous manner, for which she had been qualified by the gratification of his passions!

In the gay hours of festivity men may triumph in the advantages they have gained over women in their unguarded moments; but surely reflection must come, with all her attendant train of horrors. Conscience will assert her rights; and the misery the wicked seducer suffers in this life he ought to consider only as a prelude to the more aggravated torments he has to expect in the next.

If any one of the readers of this narrative has been guilty of the enormous crime we are now reprobating, it will become him to think seriously of the great work of reformation; and to repent, in the most unfeigned manner, while Providence yet permits him the opportunity of repentance. It ought to be remembered by offenders of every class, that the God of mercy is also a God of justice.

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1746

12: Matthew Henderson

Executed in Oxford Street, 25th of February, 1746, for murdering his Mistress, Lady Dalrymple, who was angry because he trod on her Toe.

THIS offender was born at North Berwick, in Scotland, where he was educated in the liberal manner customary in that country.

Sir Hugh Dalrymple, being a Member of the British Parliament, took Henderson into his service when fourteen years of age, and brought him to London. Before he was nineteen years old he married one of his master's maids; but Sir Hugh, who had a great regard for him, did not dismiss him, though he was greatly chagrined at this circumstance.

Some few days before the commission of the murder, Sir Hugh, having occasion to go out of town for a month, summoned Henderson to assist in dressing him; and, while he was thus employed, Sir Hugh's lady going into the room, the servant casually trod on her toe. She said not a word on the occasion, but looked at him with a degree of rage that made him extremely uneasy.

When Sir Hugh had taken his leave she demanded of Henderson why he had trod on her toe; in answer to which he made many apologies, and ascribed the circumstance to mere accident; but she gave him a blow on the ear, and declared that she would dismiss him from her service.

Henderson said it would be unnecessary to turn him away, for he would go without compulsion; but, reflecting that her passion would soon subside, he continued in his place, and was used with as much kindness as if the accident had not taken place.

Offended by the insult that had been offered him, Henderson began to consider how he should be revenged and at length came to the fatal resolution of murdering his mistress.

For the particulars of this barbarous deed we refer to his confession in Newgate, taken in writing by the ordinary, the day before his execution.

He said his mother had been dead several years, which he mentioned with satisfaction because, as she loved him tenderly, he believed this affair would certainly have broken her heart.

He had lived with his master five years― about three years in Scotland and two years in London― and declared no servant could be better used than he was, and that he never had the least dislike to the deceased, for that she was a lady of great humanity, and greatly respected by all her servants; and his master a most worthy gentleman.

One night Mary Platt, the maid-servant, told him she would go and see her husband, and he said she might do as she pleased. She went, and took the key to let herself in again. He shut the door after her, and went and cleaned some plate in the kitchen. From thence he went up into the back-parlour, where he used to lie, and let down his bed, in order to go to sleep. He pulled off his shoes, and tied up his hair with his garter, and that moment the thought came into his head to kill his lady. He went downstairs into the kitchen, took a small iron cleaver, and went up to the first landing-place on the stairs, and after tarrying a minute or two came down, shocked at the crime he was about to perpetrate. He went up again as far as the first window, and the watchman was going― "past twelve o'clock." After the watchman had passed the door, he entered the room a second time, went to the bedside, undrew the curtains, and found she was fast asleep. He went twice from the bed to the door in great perplexity of mind, the deceased being still asleep. He continued in great agonies, but soon felt where she lay, and made twelve or fourteen motions with the cleaver before he struck her. He repeated his blows, and in struggling she fell out of bed next the window, and then he thought it was time to put her out of her misery, and struck her with all his might as she lay on the floor.

He then went into his bedchamber again, and sat down on his bed for about ten minutes, when it came into his head to rob the house. He again went into the deceased's bed-chamber, and took her pockets as they were hanging on the chair, and took a gold watch and two diamond rings out of the drawers, with several other things.

He was executed in Oxford Street, on 25th February, 1746.

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13: Mary Hamilton

A Woman who was imprisoned and whipped for marrying Fourteen Women, 1746

POLYGAMY, or a man marrying two or more wives― and, vice versa, a woman marrying two or more husbands― is a crime frequently committed; but a woman marrying a woman according to the rites of the Established Church is something strange and unnatural. Yet did this woman, under the outward garb of a man, marry fourteen of her own sex!

At the Quarter Sessions held at Taunton, in Somersetshire, this woman was brought before the Court; but under what specific charge, or upon what penal statute she was indicted, we can neither trace by the mention of the circumstance, nor could we frame an indictment to meet the gross offence, because the law never contemplated a marriage among women. She was, however, tried, whether or not her case might have been cognisable, and Mary Price, the fourteenth wife, appeared in evidence (in such a case as this we must be pardoned for ambiguity) against her female husband.

She swore that she was lawfully married to the prisoner, and that they bedded and lived together as man and wife for more than a quarter of a year; during all which time, so well did the impostor assume the character of man, she still actually believed she had married a fellow-creature of the right and proper sex.

The learned quorum of justices thus delivered their verdict:

"That the he or she prisoner at the bar is an uncommon, notorious cheat, and we, the Court, do sentence her, or him, whichever he or she may be, to be imprisoned six months, and during that time to be whipped in the towns of Taunton, Glastonbury, Wells and Shepton Mallet, and to find security for good behaviour as long as they, the learned justices aforesaid, shall or may, in their wisdom and judgment, require."

And Mary, the monopoliser of her own sex, was imprisoned and whipped accordingly, in the severity of the winter of the year 1746.

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14: The Second Rebellion of the Pretender to The British Throne in the year 1745.

"Whatever private views and passions plead,

NO cause can justify so black a deed;

These, when the angry 'tempest clouds the soul,

May darken reason, and her course controul;

But when the prospect clears, her startled eye

Must, from the treacherous gulph, with horror fly,

On whose wide wave, by stormy passions tost,

So many hapless wretches have been lost.

Then be this truth the star by which we steer,

Above ourselves, our COUNTRY should be dear."

―THOMSON.

THE same pretext used to foment a discontent to the reigning family, and to set up the standard of the House of Stuart, again burst forth at this period of time, with a much more serious aspect than the rebellion of 1715. Having already given an account of the rise and quelling of that public revolt, to which we again refer our reader, we shall proceed to a more ample history of that, now before us― the most remarkable circumstance that had happened for some centuries.

When England was now attacked, by the disaffected Scotchmen, she was involved in an expensive war with her ancient enemy, France. Her armies were fighting under the Duke of Cumberland, in Germany, and her fleets sufficiently employed in watching the motions of their enemy. King George, tho' then seated on the English throne, in one part of this war, in person commanded his army, and won the celebrated battle of Dettington, where he evinced much personal courage. When the rebellion broke out in Scotland, the King was on a visit to his dominions in Hanover.

The French, being at war, with Britain, thought the time favourable to wound its internal peace, by espousing the cause of the Pretender. Not that they cared about him or his pretence to the crown, but he appeared an excellent instrument for that purpose. The very same policy they adopted when Britain was at war with her rebellious colonies in America. The French assisted them, not from affection, but through them to wound the crown, under which they had been fostered for so many years.

That government was not apprised of the preparations making to assist the Pretender, is evident from the King's speech on the 2d of May, 1745, the very time, they were going on, wherein he informs his parliament, "that the posture of affairs abroad had received a very considerable alteration, to the advantage of the common cause, and that thereby the influence of France was much weakened and diminished, and a way opened to restore that strength and power to our ancient and natural allies, which would tend greatly to the re-establishment and security of the balance of Europe." On the 10th, the King, having placed the government of the nation in the hands of John, Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, and nineteen other Privy Counsellors, he embarked at Harwich, on a visit to Hanover.

The first notice which the British public had of the, proceedings of the, Pretender, was from a paragraph in the General Evening Post, which said, "The Pretender's eldest son put to sea, July 14, from France, in an armed ship of sixty guns, provided with a large quantity of war-like stores, together with a frigate of thirty guns, and a number of smaller armed vessels, in order to land in Scotland, where he expected to find twenty thousand men in arms, to make good his, pretensions to the crown of Great Britain. He was to be joined by five ships of the line from Brest, and 4,500 Spaniards were embarking at Ferrol."

Through different channels this news was confirmed, and the nation thrown into the utmost alarm. King George II. on being apprised of it, instantly prepared to return, and arrived in London on the 31st of August, amid the acclamations of his loyal subjects, and a discharge of artillery. The Park and Tower guns had fired only a week before, on the taking of Cape Breton.

The Pretender, followed by about fifty Scotch and Irish adventurers, came incog. through Normandy, and on the 18th of July embarked on board a ship of war of 18 guns, which was joined off Belleisle by the Elizabeth and other ships. They intended to have sailed north about, and land in Scotland. On the 20th they came up with an English fleet of merchant vessels, under convoy of the Lion man of war, of 58 guns, commanded by Captain Brett, who immediately bore down upon the French line-of-battle ship, which he engaged within pistol shot five hours, and was constantly annoyed by the smaller ships of the enemy. The rigging of the Lion was cut to pieces; her mizen-mast, mizen-top-mast, main-yard, and foretop-sail, were shot away; all her lower-masts and top-masts shot through in many places, so that she lay muzzled in the sea, and could do nothing with her sails. Thus situated, the French ships sheered off, and the Lion could make no effort to follow them. Captain Brett had forty-five men killed; himself, all his lieutenants, the master, several midshipmen, and one hundred and seven foremast men wounded. His principal antagonist, the Elizabeth; with difficulty got back to Brest, quite disabled, and had sixty-four men killed, one hundred and thirty-nine dangerously wounded, and a number more slightly. She had on board £400,000 sterling, and arms and ammunition for several thousand men.

The French court, the expedition thus miscarrying, pretended ignorance of the circumstance.

Meanwhile, the Camerons, the Macdonalds, and many other clans, were in arms, in expectation of their friends from France. They came down into. the low-lands in parties, and carried off, by force, many men to fill their ranks, and committed various disorders.

The Pretender having embarked in another ship, again sailed from France, and eluded the English cruisers, so as to give him an opportunity of landing, which he effected with his followers, on the Isle of Sky, opposite to Lochaber, in the county of Inverness, about the end of. the, month of July, and took up his residence at the house of a Papist priest, with whom he remained three weeks, while his emissaries were raising men for his service. At length at the head of about two thousand he began his, march-under a standard, on which was the motto "TANDEM TRIUMPHANS."― "At length triumphant."

The rebels now marched towards Fort William, where the Pretender published a manifesto, which his father had signed at Rome; containing abundant promises to such as would adhere to his cause; two of which were a dissolution of the union between the two kingdoms, and a payment of the national debt.

This circumstance induced many of the ignorant country people to flock to his standard, till at length his undisciplined rabble began to assume the appearance of an army, which struck terror to the well-affected wherever it came.

These transactions, however, had not passed so secretly, but that the governor of Fort William informed the Lord Justice Clerk of Edinburgh of all he could learn of the. affair; on which the latter dispatched an express to the north, ordering the assistance of all officers, civil and military; and this express arrived about the time the Pretender erected his standard.

The Governor of Fort William having received these orders, dispatched two companies of St. Clair's and Murray's regiments of foot, to oppose the rebels. They were attacked by a far superior number of Highlanders, which they contended against, until they fired away all their ammunition; after which they were attacked in front, flank, and rear, and near half their number killed, before they surrendered. Captain Scott, their brave commander, was wounded; but the rebels gave him and his remaining officers their parole of honour; the private soldiers were sent to prison.

In the interim the Lord Justice Clerk ordered Sir John Cope, commander in chief of the forces in the South Scotland, to march against the rebels; but in making the circuit of the immense mountains of Argyleshire, the two armies failed to meet; on which Sir John went to Inverness, to refresh his troops after the fatigue of the March.

The armies having thus casually missed each other, the rebels proceeded to Perth, and having taken possession of that place, the Pretender issued his orders for all persons who were in possession of public money, to pay it into the hands of his secretary, whose receipts should be a full acquittal for the same.

The rebel numbers had now greatly increased, and in September the Pretender issued a proclamation. The provost and magistrates left the city, and others were immediately appointed in their room. Here the rebels were joined by the Duke of Perth, Lord George Murray, Lord Nairn, the Hon. William Murray, Messrs. Oliphant, father and son, of Gask, George Kelly, Esq. who, with the late bishop of Rochester, was committed to the Tower, and thence escaped, and several other Scotch gentlemen of influence, with their followers, making a formidable army.

The official papers distributed began thus: "Charles, Prince of Wales, and Regent of Scotland, England, France, and Ireland, and of the Dominions thereto belonging."

In the mean time general Cope sent from Inverness an express to Aberdeen, for the transport Vessels in that harbour to be ready to receive his troops; and embarking on the 18th of September, he disembarked them at Dunbar.

During these transactions General Quest, who commanded the castle of Edinburgh, gave the magistrates of that city several pieces of cannon for the defence of the place; and Colonel James Gardiner repaired from Stirling to Edinburgh, with two regiments of dragoons; but learning that General Cope had landed at Dunbar, which is twenty- seven Miles east of Edinburgh, he proceeded lo effect a junction with that general.

On the 7th another party of rebels took possession of the town of Dundee, proclaimed the Pretender, searched for arms, and levied money on the inhabitants, giving receipts for the same. They seized a ship, and steered her to Perth, supposing there was gunpowder on board. On the 11th they left Perth, and marched that day to Dunblaine, twenty miles; the next day only two, to Down. They crossed the Forth at the fords of Frews, on the 13th, General Blakeney having destroyed the bridge; and directed their march towards Glasgow; but the next day they turned to the eastward, and marched by Falkirk to Cullington, four miles from Edinburgh.

Edinburgh taken by surprise.

The following day the Pretender proceeded through the royal park, and took possession of Holyrood-House. The money in the bank of Edinburgh, and the records in the public offices, were now removed to the castle for security, and the gates of the city were kept fast during the whole day; but five hundred of the rebels having concealed themselves in the suburbs, took an opportunity, at four o'clock the next morning, to follow a coach which was going in and seizing the gate called the Netherbow, they maintained their ground while, the body reached the centre of the city, and formed themselves in the Parliament Close.

Thus possessed of the capital, they seized two thousand stand of arms, and, on the following day, marched to oppose the Royal army, under the command of General Cope; and the two armies being within sight of each other, near Preston Pans, on the evening of the 20th, Colonel Gardiner earnestly recommended it to the general to attack them during the night; but deaf to this advice he kept the men under arms, till morning, though they were already greatly harassed.

At five in the morning the rebels made a furious attack on the royal army, and threw them into unspeakable confusion, by two regiments of dragoons falling back on the foot. Colonel Gardiner, with 400 foot, behaved with uncommon valour, and covered the retreat of those who fled, but the colonel receiving a mortal wound, the rebels made prisoners of the rest of the King's troops.

The following account of this disaster was issued. from Whitehall, London:

"By an express arrived this morning, we are informed that Sir John Cope, with the troops under his command, were attacked by the rebels on the 21st instant, at day break, at Preston, near Seaton, seven miles from Edinburgh; that the King's troops were defeated, and that Sir John Cope, with about four hundred and fifty dragoons, had retired to Lauder; Brigadier Fawkes and Colonel Lascelles, had got to Lauder. The Earls of Loudon and Hume were at Dundee, with Sir John Cope."

The loss sustained by the King's troops was,

Killed: 300

Wounded: 450

Taken prisoners: 520

Total: 1270

The rebels did not lose more than fifty men.

Flushed with this partial victory, the rebels returned in high spirits to Edinburgh. They now sent foraging parties through the country, with orders to seize all the horses and waggons they could find: and, in the interim, a party of the insurgents attempted to throw up an intrenchment on the castle-hill. Hereupon the governor, necessitated to oppose the assailants, yet anxious for the safety of the inhabitants, sent a messenger in the night, to intimate to those who lived near the castle-hill, that they would do well to remove out of danger.

As soon as it was day-light, the battery of the rebels was destroyed by a discharge of the great cannon from the half-moon, and thirty of them killed, with three of the inhabitants, who had rashly ventured near the spot.

The governor being greatly deficient in provisions, a gentleman ordered above 50 fine bullocks to be driven into the city on a pretence that they were for the use of the rebels; and the person who drove them leaving them on the castle-hill, the governor and five hundred men sallied forth and drove them in at the gate, while the rebels played their artillery with unremitting fury.

While the rebels continued in Edinburgh, which was about seven weeks, some noblemen and their adherents joined them; so that their army amounted to almost ten thousand men, They now levied large contributions; not only in Edinburgh, but through the adjacent country; and those who furnished them received receipts, signed, "CHARLES, Prince Regent."

The officers taken at the battle of Preston, were admitted to their parole, but the privates were ill treated. Their allowance-was only three-halfpence each per day, and their prison filthy, and destitute of accommodations. This was practised in order to cause them to enlist under the banner of the Pretender and they were tampered with, promised the best treatment, new clothing, and five guineas per man, on their "taking St. James's Palace." One hundred and twenty, oppressed by hunger, and tempted by allurement, were not able to withstand either the calls or the temptation, and turned rebels and papists: thus forfeiting their honour and their lives. It is curious to remark, that not a man of these apostate traitors survived their newly adopted cause, for such as were not killed in the various engagements which took place before the rebellion could be quelled, fell into the hands of their injured countrymen, who hanged them all on the gallows; and thus let every traitor perish!

About this time some ships from France arrived in the Forth, laden with ammunition; and a person who attended the Pretender was dignified with the title of ambassador from his most Christian Majesty.

General Wade had now the command of some forces which had reached Yorkshire; and some Dutch troops being sent to augment his forces, he marched to Newcastle, with a view to deter the rebels from entering the southern part of the kingdom.

That celebrated prelate, the late Dr. Herring, archbishop of York, distinguished himself gloriously on this interesting occasion. Joining with the high sheriff to assemble the freeholders, the archbishop preached an animated sermon to them; and then the several parties agreed to assist each other in support of their civil and religious rights. Many people in Yorkshire were prevented from engaging in the rebellion by this spirited and well-timed conduct.

The Lord President Forbes, and the Earl of Loudon, acted in a manner equally zealous in Scotland. Having collected a number of the loyal Highlanders into a body, many others who would have joined the rebels were thereby deterred; and this proceeding proved of the most essential service towards the suppression of the rebellion.

The rebels quitted Edinburgh in the beginning of November, marched to Dalkeith where they encamped; and a report was circulated that they proposed to make an attack on Lerwick; but this was only a contrivance to conceal their real designs.

In the mean time more than a thousand of the rebels deserted, in consequence of General Wade's publishing a pardon to such as would return to their duty as good subjects, within a limited time. Still, however, they had above eight thousand men able to bear arms; yet General Wade would have marched to attack them, but that his soldiers were ill of the flux, owing to the severity of the season, and the fatigues they had undergone.

The City Of Carlisle Besieged And Taken

Emboldened by success, and their force increased, the rebels now determined to penetrate into England. On Saturday, the 9th of October, about three o'clock in the afternoon, the inhabitants of that ancient city were thrown into the greatest alarm, at seeing a body of them on Stanwix-bank, within a quarter of a mile of them; and it being market- day there, they mixed with the country people returning home, so that it was not possible for the garrison to fire upon their for some time, without risque of injuring their neighbours along with their enemies; but in less than half an hour the country people dispersed themselves, and then the garrison of the castle fired a ten-gun battery upon them, which, it is believed, killed several; then, night coming on, they retreated to a greater distance from the city and the garrison stood all the night under arms.. At two in the morning a thick fog came on, which remained till twelve that day, when it cleared up for about an hour, and. then the garrison discovered the rebels approaching to attack the city in three several ways, one at Stanwix-bank, commanded by the Duke of Perth; another at Shading-gate-lane, commanded by the Marquis of Tullibardine, who also had the artillery; and the third in Blackwell-fields, where the Pretender commanded the rest of their body facing the English-gate.

Upon discovering these three parties approaching so near to the city, the garrison fired upon them, viz. the four-gun battery upon the Marquis of Tullibardine; who was heard to say, "Gentlemen, we have not meta! for them, retreat;" which they immediately did; and disappeared. The turret guns and the citadel guns were: fired upon the Pretender's division, where the white flag was displayed, which was seen to fall; about the same time the ten-gun battery was fired upon the Duke of Perth's division, who also retired. Then the thick fog struck in again, and all the inhabitants of the city expected nothing but that a general assault would be made by the rebels, against which the walls were well lined with men; and Sir John Pennington; Dr. Waugh, Chancellor Humphry Senhouse, Joseph Daire Ralston; of Acron-bank, esquires, with several other gentlemen of note; were all night under arms, to encourage and assist them. The militia was also drawn up at the foot of Castle-street, to be ready in case of a forcible attack, to relieve and reinforce the men upon the walls.

On Monday Morning, the fog still continuing thick, the garrison could not observe the situation of the rebels, but heard their pipers playing not far from the English-gate. About ten o'clock a man was let down from the city walls, to reconnoitre the enemy; and he found they were retiring towards Warwick bridge. In the afternoon other spies were likewise detached to observe their motions, and discovered a great number remaining about Warwick-bridge; but the Pretender, with his guard and attendants, were advanced to Brampton; where they lodged themselves that night; and on Tuesday they lay idle from all action, except feats of rapine and plunder; for they spent the day in hunting and destroying the sheep of Lord Carlisle's tenants, and bearing off the country people's geese, and other poultry, They also seized upon all the horses they could lay hands on, without any question relating to value or property notwithstanding they declared the design of their expedition was to redress grievances, and correct abuses.

Tuesday night the rebels slept quietly. On Wednesday morning about ten o'clock they displayed the white flag at Warwick-bridge-end, to which they were about three hours in repairing. About one o'clock the young Pretender, attended by Lord George Murray, the Duke of Perth, and several others, besides those called his guard, came to them; upon which they formed themselves, and. began to march again to Carlisle, in the following order, first, two (named Hussars) in Highland dresses, and high rough red caps, like pioneers: next, about half a dozen of the chief leaders, followed by a kettle-drum; then the Pretender's son, at the head of about 110 horse, called his guards, two and two a-breast; after these a confused multitude of all sorts of mean people to the number, as was supposed, of about six thousand.. In this order they advanced to the height of Warwick-moor; where they halted about half an hour, and took an attentive view of the city; from thence the foot took the lead, and so marched to Carlisle about three in the afternoon, when they began a fresh assault, and the city renewed their fire.

On Thursday it was discovered that the rebels had thrown up a trench, which intimidated the town, and in a consultation it was resolved to capitulate, a deputation was sent to the Pretender, at Brampton, and the town and castle were delivered up on Friday morning.

During this progress and success of the rebels, the English government were not waiting the event of a battle, without making every effort to entirely quell the rebellion. The city of London addressed the king, in terms of great loyalty, and offered contributions for that purpose. The example of the metropolis was followed by almost every corporate body in the kingdom. The flower of the English army, as we have already observed, was in Germany; had they, instead of the new levies then engaged, fought at Preston, the issue of that battle would most likely have terminated the rebellion.

The King now thought fit to send for his son the Duke of Cumberland, to command against the rebels; and with him eight battalions and nine squadrons returned, from fighting foreign foes, to quell a civil war at home. On his arrival he immediately took the command; and soon followed his veteran troops towards the north. He arrived in Staffordshire, at the time when the rebels had penetrated as far as the town of Derby.

Both houses of parliament now assembled, a bill was passed for suspending the habeas corpus act for six months: by which the King was, for that period, empowered to seize all suspected persons, and commit them to prison, without specifying the reason of such Commitment.

[Note: The right of the writ of habeas corpus is one of the most valuable privileges of an Englishman. By virtue of it the body cannot be detained without shewing cause to the Court of King's Bench. It guards us from oppressions, and is productive of many advantages in the security of our rights and liberties. Hence its suspension is not trusted to the King himself, except upon the most urgent necessity, such as an invasion, rebellion, or insurrection.]

The effects of this act were the apprehension and commitment of many suspected persons in both kingdoms; but it did not appear to stop the progress of the rebellion.

The duke now expected a junction of the forces under General Wade, who had marched from Newcastle to Darlington, and taking a westward course, had stationed his troops near Wetherby. The rebels having advice of this motion, it was proposed by some of them to march into North Wales; but others opposed this on the presumption, that they should then be surrounded by the royal army, and compelled to surrender themselves prisoners at discretion, as they would have no opportunity of retreating into Scotland. They therefore determined to push their cause to the very utmost; and for this purpose advanced by more rapid Marches to the southward; than the king's troops could have endured, until they actually penetrated into the very heart and centre of England.

Liverpool was not behind London in spirit and loyalty. The inhabitants contributed largely in assisting the royal army at this inclement season, with warm clothing, and raised several companies of armed men, which were called the Royal Liverpool Blues. Some of the advanced parties of rebels having appeared in sight of the town, every, preparation was made to resist them. Finding at length that the pretender bent his march by another route for Manchester, the Liverpool Blues marched in order to destroy the brides, and thereby impede their progress, This service they effected,, breaking them down at Warrington, over the river Mersey, as far as Stockport. They seized two of the rebels, whom they handcuffed and, sent to Chester Gaol.

Notwithstanding these impediments, the rebels crossed the Mersey, at different fords, through which the Pretender waded breast high in water. Their numbers could not be accurately ascertained, their march being straggling and unequal, but about 9000 appeared the aggregate. Their train of artillery, consisted of sixteen field-pieces of three and four-pound shot, two carriages of gunpowder, a number of covered waggons, and about 109 horses laden with ammunition. Their vanguard consisted of about 200 cavalry, badly mounted, the horses appearing poor and jaded.

On entering the town of Macclesfield, they ordered the usual bellman to go round and, give notice, that billets must forthwith be ready for 5,000 men, their first division, on pain of military execution. The Pretender himself constantly marched on foot, at the head of two regiments, one of which was appropriated as his body-guard. His dress was a light plaid, belted about with a sash of blue silk; he wore a grey wig, with a blue bonnet and a white rose in it. He appeared very dejected at this time. His followers were ordinary, except the two regiments mentioned, which appeared to have been, picked, out of the whole, to form them. The arms of the others were very  indifferent. Some had guns, others only pistols, the remainder broad swords and targets. They committed various depredations in their progress, seizing all the horses, and plundering the houses and the farm-yards.

In this manner they proceeded to Derby. At Manchester, where they raised a regiment, it was apprehended, and not without reason, that they might have reached the Metropolis, the duke not being fully prepared, or by their retrograde motions might have missed them, as happened in  the outset with Sir John Cope in the mountains of Arglyeshire. Though we cannot consistently with the plan of our work, occupy many more pages, yet, on a subject like this, so highly important at the time it occurred, and new to a great portion of our readers, a description of the behaviour of this rebellious faction in Manchester and Derby, with the panic which seized them, and their flight back to Scotland, cannot be unacceptable.

On the 28th of November, an advanced party of rebels entered Manchester, immediately beat up for volunteers, and enlisted several papists and nonjurors, to whom they promised five guineas each, but gave them little more than white cockades, and what they called enlisting money. They then ordered quarters to be prepared for 10,000 men. Upon the arrival of the main body, a detachment examined the best houses, fixed on one for the Pretender, and others for the principal officers. They ordered the bellman to go round the town, and give notice to all persons belonging to the excise, innkeepers, &c. forthwith to appear, and bring their acquittances and rolls,  and all the ready cash they had in their hands, belonging to government, on pain of military execution.

The Pretender was then proclaimed king Of England, and the terrified inhabitants were ordered to illuminate their houses.

In order to deceive the Duke of Cumberland, whose army was augmenting in Staffordshire, sometimes they gave out that their route was for Chester; then to Knutsford, Middlewich, and Nantwich; at other times they pretended they were going. into Wales. The Duke, however, took those measures which could not fail checking their progress, should they push for London, which now was greatly apprehended; and in short, the whole nation was in the utmost consternation. He concentrated the troops near Northampton, a position which the rebels could not pass by the direct road, without risking a battle. It was still apprehended that by forced marches, and by advancing with great rapidity, they meant to avoid the Duke by a circuitous route through Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire. Fortunately they trifled away much time in raising the regiments, a proposition of a Mr. Townley, who was appointed the colonel, and afterwards taken prisoner at Carlisle, for which, among many others he was hanged, as we shall hereafter describe.

These daring traitors had despoiled the country as far as Derby, before they were aware of the danger they incurred to themselves. Here they found that the duke was waiting their further progress, advantageously posted, and in force, which they appeared unwilling to engage with. They had actually left Derby, and taken the road to London, when, it was evident, a panic overcame them; for they had barely measured a mile when they halted; held a consultation, wheeled round, and retraced their steps to Derby. On their second visit to this already oppressed town, they levied contributions to a large amount, and threatened destruction to, it, unless instantly complied with. They took what was hastily brought them, meanly plundered whatever fell in their way, and departed sullen and dejected.

From this moment they sought to regain Scotland, and by forced marches the duke pursued them. However oppressive their conduct in advancing, they committed murder and wanton mischief, and seized whatever they could carry off in their retreat. The rebels in arms in Scotland had, before this, been joined by some French troops, the commander of which declared, that he invaded the British dominions in the name of, and for, his master Louis XV.

It is high time in our summary of this very remarkable epoch of the British history, which might fill an interesting volume, to take a view of. the proceedings of the gallant Duke of Cumberland. On the 6th he was at Coventry; with horse, and the infantry encamped upon Meriden Common where they received the warm clothing subscribed for in London, Liverpool, and other towns. On the 9th he pushed on at the head of the cavalry, and a thousand fresh, volunteers, mounted in pursuit of the rebels, with a view to skirmish with, them until the foot came up, but they fled at their utmost speed, through Ashbourn, Leek, Macclesfield, Manchester, Leigh, Wigan, and Preston.

In order to enable the duke, to continue his pursuit, the gentlemen of Staffordshire provided horses to carry the foot soldiers. The flourishing town of Birmingham followed this laudable example, and Sir Lister Holt of Aston Hall, near thereto, furnished 450, sending even his coach-horses on this service; for which be received the public and. private thanks of the English commander in chief

Field-marshal Wade with his detachment of the British army, was at this time at Wakefield. It had been resolved, in a council of war held on the 8th, at Ferrybridge, to march with all expedition into Lancashire, to cut off the retreat of the rebels to Scotland: but finding they, had proceeded too far in their flight to effect this, he dispatched General Oglethorpe with the cavalry to hang upon, and harass their rear.

The French force which landed in favour of the rebels, brought with them a train of artillery of such heavy metal as to require about a dozen of their horses to draw an eighteen-pounder. With this train they advanced from Montrose to Perth, by Brechin. They had every difficulty to encounter; the season rendered the roads extremely bad, and the country people annoyed them in all directions.

At Preston, the rebels wearied with incessant marches for the last three or four days, were compelled to halt a day. This being made known to the Duke of Cumberland, he redoubled his efforts to overtake them with his cavalry. He had seen recently joined by General Oglethorpe, whose squadrons had moved. from Doncaster without a halt; and in three days he gained a hundred miles over snow and ice. By pushing the horses to the extremity, the duke entered Preston only four hours after the rear of the rebels had left it but in turn he was now compelled to halt and refresh.

On the 14th General Oglethorpe was at Garstang, and took his post at Elhilmoor, about three miles from Lancaster. The Liverpool companies arrived at Preston on the 16th, and that town sent a deputation of four of the principal inhabitants to his royal highness, with, offers to supply his troops with whatever they might stand in need of.

At Lancaster the rebels were thrown into the utmost dread on the approach of General Oglethorpe, with the horse, who actually entered the town at one end, as they retreated out of the other. While the horses were feeding in the street, and the soldiers refreshing and preparing for the attack on overtaking the fugitives, the general was called back by an express announcing the invasion of the French. This intelligence proving to have had no foundation, the horse were again ordered to push on, but the rebels had got by that time so much the start, as not to be overtaken.

At Kendal the country rose upon the retreating rebels; they took three of their men, two women, and several horses; in doing which three of the people were killed. The Pretender halted at Shap that night; and fearing to be treated in like manner at Penryth, he endeavoured to avoid that town, in which attempt he was met by an incredible number of incensed inhabitants on Lazenby Moor, on which they turned off to Temple Sowerby, but were hunted and galled the whole day, and at length driven into Orton. Here they could wait only to feed their horses in the street, and then set forward, having pressed a guide, but were pursued by the loyal people of Appleby and Brough, who took the Duke of Perth's mistress and another gentlewoman, whose carriage had broke down. As a retaliation for this interruption, the rebels committed great spoliations as they passed, plundering houses and shops, destroying goods, and stripping men of their shoes, stockings, breeches -- nay, often stripping them altogether.

After several forced marches, the Duke of Cumberland at length came up with the rebels at Lowther Hall, which they had taken possession of, but abandoned it on his approach, and threw themselves into the village of Clifton, three miles from Penryth. The dragoons immediately dismounted, and made so vigorous an attack, that in about an hour's time the rebels were driven back, though in a strong and defensible post. It became dark before the assault was over, and thus it was rendered impossible to calculate their loss, or to pursue them. Of the King's forces, forty were killed and wounded; and among the latter were Colonel Honeywood, Captain East, and the cornets Owen and Hamilton. These officers declared that when fallen, the rebels struck at them with their broadswords crying, "No quarter, kill them." They then, carried off their wounded and fled to Carlisle, which city they held possession of since its disgraceful capitulation; and which the English made immediate preparation to invest.

A fresh detachment from Marshal Wade having joined. the duke, with a train of battering cannon from Whitehaven, he began his line of march for Carlisle, and gave orders for raising the posse comitatus, (the whole body of the people.) Upon his near approach, he found the main body of the rebels had abandoned the city for Scotland, leaving behind a garrison. He however invested it in all quarters, and the besieged fired their cannon with great fury, but little execution.

During these operations, the Seahorse frigate captured a large French ship, a part of a small fleet; full of troops and warlike stores, destined for Scotland, and: brought her into Dover. On board were twenty-two officers, all of whom were Scotch and Irish, provided with corn, missions from the King of France, and, a proportional number of soldiers.

To return to Carlisle: the Duke of Cumberland threw up batteries to bombard it, while the rebels burnt part of the suburbs, and hanged three of the inhabitants. The batteries, which took up several days in constructing, being complete were opened upon the city, but towards evening, ammunition being expended, they ceased, waiting for a supply, which, however, fortunately arrived next day, and the cannonade was resumed, which caused the rebels to hoist the white flag, upon which, it again ceased. In about two bows a flag of truce advanced with a rebel officer, who brought a letter signed "John Hamilton, Governor of Carlisle." This letter proposed hostages to be given and exchanged, in order to prepare for a capitulation.

To this the Duke of Cumberland returned for answer, "That he would make no exchange of hostages with rebels." Another flag arrived from the rebel governor, desiring to know what terms the duke would grant him and his garrison. To this was answered, that the utmost terms he would grant, were, "not to put them to the sword, but to reserve them for His Majesty's pleasure;" whereupon he surrendered the city, praying the duke to intercede for his Majesty's royal clemency, and that the officers' clothes and baggage, might be safe; and at three in the afternoon of the 30th of December, the King's troops once more took possession of the devoted city of Carlisle.

The rebel garrison consisted of the remains of the regiment they raised at Manchester, viz. Towney, their colonel, five captains, six lieutenants, seven ensigns, and an adjutant, who had been a barber, with ninety-three non-commissioned officers, drummers, and private men, chiefly Roman Catholics. The other part of the garrison of Scotch, were the governor, six captains,. seven lieutenants, three ensigns, and one surgeon; and 456 non-commissioned officers and private men. Last, though not least rebellious, was found James Cappock, the Pretender's bishop of the diocese. The French part of this contemptible garrison, as they styled themselves, was Sir Francis Geogean, of Thoulouse, in France, captain in Count Lally's regiment, Colonel Strictland, and Sir John Arbuthnot, captains in the rebel Lord George Drummond's regiment; but the real Frenchmen were, one sergeant and four private soldiers.

These victories, however, by no means put an end to this very formidable rebellion. We must therefore, long as our account already is, follow the contending parties to Scotland, and when our readers recollect, that for this crime, very considerable numbers, as we shall hereafter shew, forfeited their lives, we cannot persuade ourselves, that herein we make even a digression from our avowed object. The main body of the rebels, we have observed, left Carlisle, and in haste moved forward to Scotland, having no impediment to encounter, we pass over their destructive march, until we find the Pretender at Glasgow, the second city of that part of great Britain.

On his arrival at Glasgow, the Pretender sent for the Provost (the principal officer of the city) and demanded the names of all those who had subscribed for raising troops against him, threatening to hang him on his refusal. To this the Provost replied, "I will not give up the name of any one person in the city, but myself subscribed more than any other. I thought it my duty, and I am not afraid to die in such a cause." Here they levied a contribution for horses, and promised payment for what they consumed, then ordered the land-tax to be paid: but upon departure said, their expenses should be discharged out of the pretended forfeited rents of Kilsyth. They then marched for Stirling, in possession of the English, commanded by the gallant General Blakeney. The gates could not be defended; they therefore marched in, and summoned the garrison to surrender; but the veteran commander answered, that "he would perish in its ruins, rather than make terms with rebels." In the river of the town were two English men of war, and the rebels, in order to prevent their going further up, erected a battery, which the ships soon destroyed, and caused them to retreat a mile, where they erected another, which did little execution. They now prepared. for a vigorous attack upon the castle, got some heavy pieces of ordnance across the Forth, erected a battery against it, and called in all their forces. General Blakeney fired upon them, and repeatedly drove them from their works.

General Hawley, at the head of such troops as he could form in order of battle, marched to attempt to raise the siege, but the rebels made a desperate attack, at the commencement of which his artillery horses, terrified, broke their traces, and ran away. Some of the dragoons seeing this, also gave way, and in short, the rebels had the advantage. At the beginning of the battle, a violent storm of wind and rain arose, which blew and beat in the faces of the English. General Hawley retreated to Linlithgow. His powder was found spoiled by the excessive rains of that and the preceding day; not a musket in five went off, and the drivers of his waggons, running off with the impressed horses, he was compelled to burn his tents and other stores, and to abandon nearly the whole of his artillery.

Edinburgh being again in the possession of the English, and fears entertained that the rebels meant to abandon the siege of Stirling, and proceed thither, General Hawley was ordered to post himself between those places. The rebels, abandoning Stirling, laid siege to Fort William, but after a long attack, in which they fired hot bars, in hopes of setting it on fire, they, also gave up that design.

Various were the skirmishes in different parts of Scotland, and frequently to the advantage of the rebels, which we shall pass over in order to bring our history to a close, by presenting the two armies in order of battle, at Culloden; the result of which crushed this rebellion. It is certain, that the rebels entertained the most sanguine hopes of success, from their broadswords, which had already borne them too long in their career: but, when opposed to the English bayonet of veteran troops, they, were as a feather before the wind, nor can the horse make any impression on that formidable weapon, in the hands of a determined infantry. This may be called a pitched battle, for the contending armies having taken the field, determined to abide the issue of the day. They were respectively commanded by the Duke and the Pretender, in their proper persons: and the following, taken from the London Gazette, is the conqueror's account of the battle:

"On Tuesday the 15th the rebels burnt Fort Augustus, which convinced us of their resolution to stand an engagement with the King's troops. We gave our men a day's halt at Nairn, and, on the 16th marched from thence between four and five in, four columns. The three lines of foot (reckoning the reserve for one) were broken into three from the right, which made the three columns equal, and each of five battalions. The artillery and baggage followed the first column upon the right, and the cavalry made the fourth column on the left.

"After we had marched about eight miles, our advanced guard composed of about 40 of Kingston's, and the highlanders, led by the quarter-master-general, perceived the rebels at some distance making a motion towards us; upon which we immediately formed; but finding the rebels were still a good way from us, and that the whole body did not come forward, we put ourselves again upon our march in our former posture, and continued it to within a mile of them, where we again formed in the same order as before. After reconnoitering their situation, we found them posted behind some old walls and huts, in a line with Culloden House. As we thought our right entirely secure, Gen. Hawley and Gen. Bland went to the left with two regiments of dragoons, to endeavour to fall upon the right flank of the rebels, and Kingston's horse was ordered to the reserve. The ten pieces of cannon were disposed, two in each of the intervals of the first line, and all our Highlanders (except about 140, which were upon the left with Gen. Hawley, and who behaved extremely well) were left to guard the baggage.

"When we were advanced within 500 yards of the rebels, we found the morass upon our right was ended, which left our right flank quite uncovered to them; his Royal Highness thereupon immediately ordered Kingston's horse from the reserve, and a little squadron of about 60 of Cobham's which had been patrolling, to cover our flank; and Pulteney's regiment was ordered from the reserve to the right of the Royals.

"We spent above half an hour after that, trying which should gain the flank of the other; and his Royal Highness having sent Lord Bury forward within a hundred yards of the rebels, to reconnoitre somewhat that appeared like a battery to us, they there upon began firing their cannon, which was extremely ill-served and ill-pointed: ours immediately answered them, which began their confusion. They then came running on in their wild Manner: and upon the right where his Royal Highness placed himself, imagining the greater push would be there, they came down three several times within a hundred yards of our men, firing their pistols and brandishing their swords: but the Royals and Pulteney's hardly took their firelocks from their shoulders, so that after those faint attempts they made off, and the little squadrons on our right were sent to pursue them. Gen. Hawley had, by the help of our Highlanders, beat down the little stone walls, and came in upon the right flank of their second line.

"As their whole first line came down to attack at once, their right somewhat out-flanked Barrel's regiment, which was our left, and the greatest part of the little loss we sustained, was there; b ut Bligh's and Sempil's giving a fire upon those who had out-flanked Barrel's soon repulsed them, and Barrel's regiment and the left of Monro's fairly beat them with their bayonets. There was scarce a soldier or officer of Barrel's, and of that part of Monro's which engaged, who did not kill one or two men each with their bayonets and spontoons. [Note: Spontoons: The officers' half-pikes]

The cavalry, which had charged from the right and left, met in the centre, except two squadrons of dragoons, which we missed, and they were gone in pursuit of the runaways: Lord Ancram was order to pursue with the horse as far as he could; and did it with so good effect that a very considerable number was killed in the pursuit.

"As we were in our march to Inverness, and were nearly arrived there, Major Gen. Bland sent the annexed papers, which he received from the French officers and soldiers, surrendering themselves prisoners to his Royal Highness. Major Gen. Bland had also made great slaughter, and took about 50 French officers and soldiers prisoners in his pursuit.

"By the best calculation that can be made, it is thought the rebels lost 2000 men upon the field of battle, and in the pursuit. We have here 222 French, and 326 rebel prisoners. Lieut. Col. Howard killed an officer, who appeared to be Lord Strathallan, by the seal, and different commissions from the Pretender, found in his pocket.

"It is said Lord Perth, Lord Nairn, Lochiel, Keppock, and Appin Stuart, are also killed. All their artillery and ammunition, were taken, as well as the Pretender's and all their baggage. There were also. twelve colours taken.

"All the generals, officers, and soldiers, did their utmost duty in his Majesty's service, and shewed the greatest zeal and bravery on this occasion.

"The Pretender's son, it is said, lay at Lord Lovat's house at Aird, the night after the action. Brig. Mordaunt is detached with 900 volunteers this morning into the Frazier country, to attack all the rebels he may find there. Lord Sutherland's and Lady Reay's people continue to exert themselves, and have taken upwards of 100 rebels, who are sent for; and there is great reason to believe Lord Cromartie and his son are also taken. The Monroes have killed 50 of the rebels in their flight. As it is not known where the greatest bodies of them are, or which way they have taken in their flight, his Royal Highness has not yet determined which way to march. On the 17th, as his Royal Highness as at dinner, three officers, and about sixteen of Fitz-James's regiment, who were mounted, came and surrendered themselves prisoners.

"The killed, wounded, and missing, of the King's troops, amount to above 300.

"The French officers will be all sent to Carlisle, till his Majesty's pleasure shall be known.

"The rebels, by their own accounts, make their loss greater by 2000 men than we have stated it. Four of their principal ladies are in custody, viz. Lady Ogilvie, Lady Kinloch, Lady Gordon, and the Laird of McIntosh's wife. Major Grant, the Governor of Inverness, is retaken, and the Generals, Hawley, Lord Albemarle, Huske, and Bland, have orders to inquire into the reasons for his surrendering of Fort George.

"Lord Cromartie, Lord M‘Leod his son, with other prisoners, are just brought in from Sutherland, by the Hound sloop, which his Royal Highness had sent for them, and they are just now landing."

"To wield the broadsword, and assume the plad,

Avails but little where the cause is bad."

______________

15: The Earl Of Kilmarnock, The Earl Of Cromartie, The Lord Balmerino

Three of the principal rebel chiefs

"These men were once the glory of their age,

"Disinterested, just, with ev'ry Virtue

"Of civil life adorn'd, at arms excelling,

"Their only blot was this; that much inovok'd

"They rais'd their vengeful arms against their country;

"And lo! the righteous gods have now chastis'd them."

THOMPSON.

THESE, noblemen possessed great influence, and were much respected, previous to, the unhappy rebellion in 1745. Having already given a correct, though abridged account, of the transactions in which they took conspicuous part; we proceed, without farther comment, to their trials, defence, speeches, and execution.

On Monday, the 28th of July, 1746, about eight o clock in the morning, the three rebel lords, prisoners in the Tower, were carried from thence in three coaches, the Earl of Kilmarnock, with Governor Williamson, and another gentleman, captain of the guard, in the first, the Earl of Cromartie; attended by Captain Marshall, in the second: and Lord Balmerino, attended by Mr. Fowler, gentleman gaoler, who had the axe covered by him, in the third, under a strong guard of foot-soldiers to Westminster Hall, where the Lord High Steward and the peers having taken their seats, proclamation was made for the Lieutenant of the Tower of London to return the precept to him directed, with the bodies of the prisoners: which done, the Gentleman Gaoler of the Tower brought his prisoners to the bar; and the proclamation was made for the King's evidence to come forth, the King's counsel, by his Grace's direction, opened the indictment, then his Grace moved the house that he might advance forwards for the better hearing of the evidence, (which being done, William Earl of Kilmarnock was brought to the bar) and his bill of indictment for high treason read, to which his lordship, pleaded Guilty, and desired to be recommended to his Majesty for mercy.

Then George Earl of Cromartie was brought to the bar, &c, who also pleaded Guilty and prayed for mercy, After which Arthur Lord Balmerino was brought to the bar, &c. who pleaded Not Guilty, alleging that he was not at Carlisle at the time specified in the indictment, whereupon six witnesses for the crown were called in and examined, whose evidence was distinctly repeated by the reading-clerk, proving that his Lordship entered Carlisle (though not the same day) sword in hand, at the head of a regiment called by his name, Elphinston's horse. To this he made an exception, which was overruled. The Lord High Steward then asked him if he had any witness, or any thing further to offer in his defence. To which he replied, he was sorry he had given their lordships so much trouble, and had nothing more to say.

Hereupon their lordships retired out of Westminster Hall to the House of Peers, where the opinion of the judges was asked, touching the overt act, which they declaring to be not material, as other facts were proved beyond contradiction, their lordships returned, and his Grace putting the question to the youngest baron,

"Whether Arthur Lord Balmerino was guilty or not guilty, &c." he clapt his right hand to his left breast, and said, "Guilty, upon my honour, my Lord," as did all the rest of the peers. And the prisoners being again called to the bar, the Lord High Steward declared their resolutions: and they were ordered to be brought up on the 30th. at 11 o'clock in the morning to receive sentence.

Written notice was given them to bring what they might have to offer in arrest of judgment.―There were 136 peers present.

On the 30th the Lord High Steward went to Westminster Hall, attended as before: and the prisoners being brought again before their peers, the Earl of Kilmarnock made a very elegant, and pathetic speech which was much admired, to move their lordships to intercede for him with his Majesty. The Earl of  Cromartie spoke also to the same effect; but Lord Balmerino, pleaded, in arrest of judgment, that his indictment was found in the county of Surrey, and, this being a point of law, desired that he might be allowed counsel to argue it, upon which the lords adjourned to their chamber, to consider of it, and soon after returned; ordered his plea to be argued on Friday next, and appointed Messrs. Wilbrake and Forrester for his counsel.

[Note:  This point was that the bill of indictment was found on an act of parliament passed in March last, by which prisoners, charged with high treason, were to be tried in such county as his Majesty should appoint; but, as the treason with which his lordship was charged, is said to be committed at Carlisle, in the December before, he ought to have been indicted there, and not in Surrey, because the treason alleged to be committed was before the passing of the act, and therefore he could not be affected by it, and consequently the whole superstructure built thereon must fall to the ground. This objection, it is said, was suggested to all the lords, in a letter sent to each in the Tower, by an officious person; but the very title of the act includes "such persons as HAVE levied, or shall levy war, against his Majesty."]

On the 1st of August the Lord High Steward, and the peers being come to Westminster Hall, the three rebel lords were brought to the bar, with the axe carried before them. Then the E. of Kilmarnock and E. of Cromartie were separately asked if they had any thing to propose why judgment should not be passed upon them; to which they answered in the negative. Then his Grace informed Lord Balmerino, that, having started an objection, desired counsel, and had their assistance, he was now to make use of it, if he thought fit, to argue that point.  His Lordship answered, he was sorry for the trouble he had given his Grace and the peers; that he would not have taken that step, if he had not been persuaded there was some ground for the objection; but that his counsel having satisfied him there was nothing in it that could tend to his service, he declined having them heard, submitted to the court, and was resolved to rely upon his Majesty's mercy.

His Grace then made a speech to the prisoners, almost to the same effect as that pronounced by Earl Cowper. But as the present rebellion was opposed with more unanimity and zeal than the last, his Grace took occasion to observe to their lordships, that the beginnings of the rebellion "were so weak and unpromising, as to be capable of seducing none but the most infected and willing minds to join in so desperate an enterprise.

That it  was impossible, even for the party of the rebels to be so inconsiderate or vain as to imagine, that the body of this free people, blest in the enjoyment of all their rights, both civil and religious, under his Majesty's protection; secure in the prospect of transmitting them safe to their posterity, under the Protestant succession in his royal house, would not rise up, as one man, to oppose and crush so flagitious, so destructive, and so unprovoked an attempt.

Accordingly the rebels soon saw his Majesty's faithful subjects, conscious both of their duty and  interest, contending to outdo one another in demonstrations of their zeal and vigour in his service.

Men of property, of all ranks and orders, crowded in with liberal subscriptions, of their own motion, beyond the examples of former times, and uncompelled by any law: and yet in the most legal and warrantable manner, notwithstanding what has been ignorantly and presumptuously suggested to the contrary.

His lordship concluded thus: It has been his Majesty's justice to bring your lordships to legal trial and it has been his wisdom to shew, that, as a small part of his national forces was sufficient to subdue the rebel army in the field, so the ordinary course of his laws, is strong enough to bring even their chiefs to justice."

Then, after a short pause, his Grace pronounced sentence as in cases of high treason. Afterwards breaking his staff, put an end to the commission.

At six o'clock a troop of life-guards, one of horse-grenadiers, and 1000 of the foot guards, (being fifteen men out of each company,) marched from the parade in St. James's park through the city to Tower-hill, to attend the execution of the Earl of Kilmarnock and the Lord Balmerino, and being arrived there, were posted in lines from the Tower to the scaffold, and all round it.

About eight o'clock the sheriffs of London, with their under-sheriffs, and their officers, viz. six serjeants at mace, six yeomen, and the executioner, met at the Mitre tavern in Fenchurch-street, where they breakfasted, and went from thence to the house lately the Transport-office on Tower-hill, near Catherine-court, hired by them for the reception of the said lords, before they should be conducted to the scaffold, fold, which was erected about thirty yards from the said house.

At ten o'clock the block was fixed on the stage, and covered with black cloth, and several sacks of sawdust were brought up to strew on it; soon after their coffins were brought, covered with black cloth, ornamented with gilt nails, &c. On the Earl of Kilmarnock's was a plate with this inscription, "Gulielmus. Comes. de Kilmarnock decollatus, 18 Augusti, 1746, Ætat. suæ 42," with an earl's coronet over it, and 6 coronets over the six handles; and on lord Balmerino's was a plate with this inscription, "Arthurus Dominus de Balmerino decollatus, 18 Augusti, 1746, Ætat. Suæ 58," with a baronet's coronet over it, and six others over the six handles.

At a quarter after ten the sheriffs went in procession to the outward gate of the Tower, and, after knocking at it some time, a warder within asked,

"Who's there?"

The officer without answered, "The Sheriffs of London and Middlesex."

The warder then asked, "What do they want?"

The officer answered, "The bodies of Earl of Kilmarnock, and Arthur, Lord Balmerino.", upon which the warder said, "I will go and inform the Lieutenant of the Tower," and in about ten minutes the Lieutenant of the Tower, with the Earl of Kilmarnock, and Major White with Lord Balmerino, guarded by several of. the warders, came to the gate; the prisoners were there delivered to the Sheriffs, who gave proper receipts for their bodies to the Lieutenant, who, as is usual, said, "God bless King George;" to which the Earl of Kilmarnock assented by a bow, and the Lord Balmerino said, "God bless King James."

[Note:  At the foot of the first stairs, the Earl of Kilmarnock met and embraced Lord Balmerino, who greatly (as Mr. Foster observes) said to him, " My Lord, I am heartily sorry to have your company in this expedition."]

Soon after, the procession, moving in a slow and solemn manner, appeared in the following order:

1. The Constable of the Tower-hamlets.

2. The Knight-Marshal's men and Tip-staves.

3. The Sheriffs' officers.

4. The Sheriffs, the Prisoners, and their Chaplains; Mr. Sheriff Blachford walking with the Earl of Kilmarnock, and Mr. Sheriff Cockayne with the Lord Balmerino.

5. The Tower Warders.

6. A guard of Musqueteers.

7. The two hearses and a mourning coach.

When the procession had passed through the lines into the area of the circle formed by the guards, the passage was closed, and the troops of horse, who were in the rear of the foot on the lines, wheeled off, and drew up five deep behind the foot on the south side of the hill, facing the scaffold.

The Lords were conducted into separate apartments in the house facing the steps of the scaffold; their friends being admitted to see them. The Earl of Kilmarnock was attended by the Rev. Mr. Foster, a dissenting minister, and the Rev. Mr. Hume, a near relation of the Earl of Hume; and the. Chaplain of the Tower, and another clergyman of the church of England, accompanied the Lord Balmerino; who, on entering the door of the house, hearing several of the spectators ask eagerly, "Which is Lord Balmerino?" answered, smiling, "I am Lord Balmerino, gentlemen, at your service." The parlour and passage of the house, the rails enclosing the way from thence to the scaffold, and the rails about it, were all hung with black at the Sheriff's expense.

The Lord Kilmarnock, in the apartment allotted to him, spent about an hour in his devotions with Mr. Foster, who assisted him with prayer and exhortation. After which Lord Balmerino, pursuant to his request, being admitted to confer with the earl, first thanked him for the favour, and then asked, If his lordship knew of any order signed by the Prince (meaning the Pretender's son) to give no quarter at the battle of Culloden. And the; earl answering, 'No,' Lord Balmerino added, 'Nor I neither, and therefore it seems to be an invention to justify their own murders.' The earl replied, 'he did not think this a fair inference, because he was informed, after he was prisoner at Inverness, by several officers, that such an order, signed George Murray, was in the duke's custody.' -- 'George Murray,' said Lord Balmerino, 'then they should not charge it on the Prince.' Then he took his leave, embracing Lord Kilmarnock, with the same kind of noble and generous compliments, as he had used before, 'My dear Lord Kilmarnock, I am only sorry that I cannot pay this reckoning alone; once more, farewell for ever,' and returned to his own room.

The earl then, with the company kneeling down joined in a prayer delivered by Mr. Foster: after which, having sat a few moments, and  taken a second refreshment of a bit of bread and a glass of wine, he expressed a desire that Lord Balmerino might go first to the scaffold; but being informed that this could not be, as his lordship was named first in the warrant, he appeared satisfied, saluted his friends, saying he should make no speech on the scaffold, but desired the ministers to assist him in his last moments, and they accordingly, with other friends, proceeded there with him. The multitude, who had been long expecting to see him on such an awful occasion, on his first appearing on the scaffold, dressed in black, with a countenance and demeanour, testifying great contrition, shewed the deepest signs of commiseration and pity; and his lordship, at the same time, being struck with such, a variety of dreadful objects at once, the multitudes, the block, his coffin, the executioner, the instrument of death, turned about to Mr. Hume, and said, "Hume! this is terrible;" though without changing his voice or countenance.

[Note: His person was tall and graceful, his countenance mild, and his complexion pale; and more so, as he had been indisposed.]

After putting up a short prayer, concluding with a petition for his Majesty King George and the royal family, in verification of his declaration his speech, his lordship embraced, and took his last leave of his friend. The executioner, who before had something administered to keep him from fainting, was so affected with his lordship's distress, and the awfulness of the scene, that on asking him forgiveness, he burst into tears. My lord bid him take courage, giving him at the same time, a purse with five guineas, and telling him that he would drop his handkerchief as a signal for the stroke. He proceeded, with the help of his gentleman, to make ready for the block, by taking off his coat, and the bag from his hair, which was then tucked up under a napkin cap, but this being made up so wide as not to keep up his long hair, the making it less occasioned a little delay; his neck being laid bare, tucking down the collar of his shirt, and waistcoat, he kneeled down on a. black cushion at the block, and drew his cap over his eyes, in doing which, as well as in putting up his hair, his hands were observed. to shake; but, either to support or for a more convenient posture of devotion, he happened to lay both his hands, upon the block, which the executioner observing, prayed his lordship to let them fall, lest they should be mangled or break the blow. He was then told, that the neck of his waistcoat was in the way, upon which he rose, and with the help of a friend took it off, and the neck being made bare to the shoulders, he kneeled down as before: in the mean time, when all things were ready for the execution, and the black baize which hung over the rails of the scaffold, having, by direction of the colonel of  the guards or the sheriffs, been turned up that, the people might see all the circumstances of the execution; in about two minutes (the time he before fixed) after he kneeled down, his lordship dropping his handkerchief, the executioner at once severed his head from his body,. except only a small part of the skin, which was immediately divided by a gentle stroke; the head was received in a piece of red baize, and with the body immediately put into the coffin. The scaffold, was then cleared from the blood, fresh sawdust strewed, and, that no appearance of a former execution might remain, the executioner changed such of his clothes as appeared bloody.

In the account said to be published by the authority of the sheriffs, it is asserted the Lord Kilmarnock requested his head might not be held up as usual, and declared to be the head of a traitor; and that, for this reason that part of the ceremony was omitted, as the sentence and law did not require it; but we are assured, in Mr. Foster's account, that his lordship made no such request; and further, that when he was informed that his head would be held up, and such, proclamation made, it did, not affect him and he spoke of it as a matter of no moment. All that he wished or desired was,

1. That the executioner might not be, as represented to his lordship, "a good, sort of man," thinking "a rough temper would be fitter for the purpose."

2. That his coffin, instead of remaining in the hearse, might be set upon the stage: and,

3. That four persons might be appointed. to receive the head, that it might not roll about the stage, but be speedily, with his body, put into the coffin.

While this was doing, the Lord Balmerino, after having solemnly recommended himself to the mercy of the Almighty, conversed cheerfully with his friends, refreshed himself twice with a bit of bread and a glass of wine, and desired the company to drink to ain degrae to haiven, acquainting them that he had prepared a speech which he should read on the scaffold, and therefore should there say nothing of its contents.

The Under-sheriff coming into his lordship's apartment to let him know the stage was ready, he prevented him by immediately asking if the affair was over with the Lord Kilmarnock, and being answered "It is," he inquired how the executioner performed his office, and upon receiving the account, said it was well done; then addressing himself to the company, said, "Gentlemen, I shall detain you no longer," and with an easy unaffected cheerfulness he saluted his friends, and hastened to the scaffold, which he mounted with so easy an air as astonished the spectators; his lordship was dressed in his regimentals, a blue coat turned up with red, trimmed with brass buttons, (and a tie-wig,) the same which he wore at the battle of Culloden; no circumstance in his whole deportment shewed the least sign of fear or regret, and he frequently reproved his friends for discovering either upon his account.

He walked several times round the scaffold, bowed to the people; went to his coffin, read the inscription, and with a nod, said, it is right; he then examined the block, which he called his pillow of rest. His lordship putting on his spectacles, and taking a paper out of his pocket, read it with an audible voice, which, so far from being filled with passionate invective, mentioned his majesty as a prince of the greatest magnanimity and mercy, at the same time that, through erroneous political principles, it denied him a right to the allegiance of his people: having delivered this paper to the sheriff, he called for the executioner, who appearing, and being about to ask his lordship's pardon, he said, "Friend, you need not ask me forgiveness, the execution of your duty is commendable;" upon which, his lordship gave, him three guineas, saying, "Friend, I never was rich, this is all the money I have now, I wish it was more, and I am sorry I can add nothing, to it but my coat and waistcoat, which he then took off, together with his neck-cloth, and threw them on his coffin; putting on a flannel waistcoat, which had been provided for the purpose, and then taking a plaid cap out of his pocket, he put it on his head, saying he died a Scotchman; after kneeling down at the block to adjust his posture, and shew the executioner the signal for the stroke, which was dropping his arms, he once more turned to his friends, and took his last farewell, and, looking round, on the crowd, said, "Perhaps some may think my behaviour too bold, but remember, Sir, (said he to a gentleman who, stood near him) that I now declare it is the effect of confidence in God, and a good conscience, and I should dissemble if I should shew any signs of fear."

Observing, the axe in the executioner's hand as he passed him, he took it from him, felt the, edge, and returning it, clapped the executioner on the shoulder to encourage him; he tucked down the collar of his shirt and waistcoat, and shewed him where to strike, desiring him to do it resolutely, for in that, says his lordship, will consist your kindness.

He went to the side of the stage, and called up the warder, to whom he gave some money, asked which was his hearse, and ordered the man to drive near. Immediately, without trembling or changing countenance, he again knelt down at the block, and having with his arms stretched out, said, "O Lord, reward my friends, forgive my enemies, and receive my soul," he gave the signal by letting them fall. But his uncommon firmness and intrepidity, and the unexpected suddenness of the signal so surprised the executioner, that though he struck the part directed, the blow was not given with strength enough to wound him very deep; on which it seemed as if he made an effort to turn his, head towards the executioner, and the under jaw fell, and returned very quick, like anger and gnashing the teeth; but it could not be otherwise, the part being convulsed. A second blow immediately succeeding the first, rendered him, however, quite insensible, and a third finished the work.

[Note: If we were to draw his character, abstracted from the consideration of his being an enemy to the present happy government, we should call him a blunt, resolute man, who would, if his principles had not been tainted with Jacobitism, have appeared honest in the eyes of those who love sincerity; but he was not so happy as to be loyal. His person was very plain, his shape clumsy, but his make strong, and had no marks about him of the polite gentleman, though his seeming sincerity recompensed all those defects. He was illiterate in respect of his birth, but rather from a total want of application to letters, than want of ability: several quaint stories related of him, which seem to be the growth of wanton and fertile imagination, which is not at all to be wondered at ,in times that afford so much matter for invention. He left a lady behind him, whom he called his Peggy; to whom, at his request, His Majesty allowed £50 a year: whether any Children, we are not able to say.]

His head was received in a piece of red baize, and with his body put into the coffin, which, at his particular request, was placed on that of the late Marquis of Tullibardines's, in St. Peter's church in the Tower, all three lords lying in one grave.

During the whole course of the solemnity, although the hill, the scaffoldings, and houses, were crowded full of spectators, all persons attended with uncommon decency, and evenness of temper; which evinces how much the people entered into the rectitude of the execution, though too humane to rejoice in the catastrophe.

Lord Balmerino had but a small estate, though ground-landlord and lord of the manor of Colcon, a long street in the suburbs of Edinburgh, leading to Leith, and had also some other small possessions in the shire of Fife. His lady came to London soon after him, and frequently attended him during his confinement in the Tower, and had lodgings in East Smithfield. She was at dinner with him when the warrant came for his execution the Monday following, and being very much surprised, he desired her not to be concerned at it; "If the king had given me mercy," said he, "I should have been glad of it; but since it is otherwise, I am very easy; for it is what I have expected, and therefore it does not at all surprise me." His lady seemed very disconsolate and rose immediately from table; on which he started from his chair, and said," Pray, my lady, sit down for it shall not spoil my dinner;" upon which her ladyship sat down again, but could not eat. Several more of his sayings were related as remarkable, among others, that being advised to take care of his person, he replied, "It would be thought very imprudent in  a man to repair an old house, when the lease of it was so near expiring."

Character Of Arthur Lord Balmerino

Quique metus omnes, & inexorabile Fatum

Subjecitit pedibus, strepitumque Acherontis avari.

VIRG.

THE ABHORRENCE of pain is a principle implanted in all animals as the means of: their preservation. To this in Men is added the fear of death; and that is still heightened, by apprehensions of what may happen afterwards. Yet pain is often unavoidable; and death, with its consequences, some time or other absolutely necessary. Hence arises the merit of courage, which consists in facing intrepidly and suffering cheerfully these evils, when they become either inevitable or declinable only on unworthy terms. Great then are undoubtedly the obligations of mankind for those who, on such occasions, treat these terrors with the contempt they really deserve, and give us an useful lesson and example how to behave in an emergency which we ought every day to expect, and which we must one day certainly experience. The Greeks and Romans, therefore, looked even on suicide in amiable light. It was with them the consummation of a perfect character; and the extenuation of the most faulty. Nor were they in this altogether impolitic; hence flowed that appetite for danger; that prodigality of life, which they knew so skilfully to direct to the publics emoluments. But heaven-instructed Christians have unlearnt this Pagan doctrine; and yet, amongst the primitives what was accounted more meritorious than a courageous, calm submission to civil punishment, appears the constant aim of the martyrs, and had the happiest effects, as to the promulgation of their precepts.

There has been lately seen among us a noble instance of the superiority of a great mind to fear, which, when passion and prejudice have subsided, will reflect honour on our times, and even be advantageous to former, as it bestows credibility on their most exaggerated heroical relations. I mean the death of the late Lord Balmerino.

But, before we proceed, it may be proper to declare, that, if I would vindicate and extol his death, I by no means. intend to justify or excuse his life. I give up, with all good Englishmen, the French soldier, the Jacobite, the double rebel, concur with them in the rectitude of his sentence, and the necessity of its execution. It is at the Tower gate, that I (with the sheriffs) take him up:-- There the hero commences.

I will not injure, by comparing, as has been hitherto done, with pusillanimity itself, a fortitude that wants no foil, which all antiquity can scarcely parallel. Lord Balmerino's carriage in the procession from the Tower, was easy and cheerful, his conversation in the preparatory room, rational and pertinent; his interview with his fellow-sufferer open and generous; when on the scaffold, he had so little of the formal, piteous countenance there usually exhibited, that those who were unacquainted with his person, knew not for some time that he was there. He told the officers that he would take up but little of their time; that he was sensible the greatest part of it was already elapsed; that he had had frequent opportunities to look into his future concerns, and should not settle this account in public. Accordingly, having with composure given the necessary directions, he prepared for the blow with the greatest alacrity, and with an expedition, which was only interrupted by an act of generosity, and a mistake which, to a weak mind, might have been productive of extreme disorder, but served only to elevate his character. And though, through the whole of this transaction, nothing appeared but intrepidity and constancy, yet this hero confessed the man. He had his fears, but they were glorious ones: he feared, he said, that his conduct would be thought too bold; willingly, would he have seemed less so, but could not play the hypocrite. So far was he from an affected ostentation of his prodigious courage, a courage which was attended by the most desirable effect, the most indisputable evidence. This nobleman parted with life with such unconcern as convinced the spectators that was not only to him, but really in itself, of no importance. The black solemnity could not obscure his serenity, nor imprint on them a gloom not to be dispelled by such lustre. They found there was nothing unnatural in dying, nothing. horrible in death itself; they felt no emotion.

Thus greatly, unlamented, fell Arthur Lord Balmerino, a man of the most incredible courage, the most commendable sincerity, the most engaging simplicity, who was an honour to the worst cause, and would have been an ornament to the best; whose faults wilt one day be forgotten, and his virtues remembered.

And sure the little here said (with strict truth) in his favour, cannot possibly give offence, to the most zealous loyalist. There is a justice surely due to the characters of gallant enemies, our law never intends to execute reputations, and its most rigid sentence, pronounced on the least pardonable occasion, confines the punishment to the body merely, and in the midst of judgment remembers mercy.

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16: Charles Ratcliffe

Who Assumed The Title Of Earl Of Derwentwater

This gentleman was one of those who took part in the rebellion, under a commission from the King Of France, and was taken, with many others, on his passage to Scotland, by the Seahorse frigate. He was the youngest brother of the Earl of Derwentwater, who was attainted and executed in the first rebellion, and his titles and estates consequently forfeited to the crown. He was, with his brother, taken at Preston; tried, convicted, and, condemned, but several times respited, and would probably have been pardoned, had he not, with thirteen others, made his escape out of a room called the Castle in Newgate, through a small door which had been accidentally left open, leading to the debtors Side, where the turnkey; not knowing them, let them out of the prison, supposing they, were persons who had come to see their friends.

He immediately procured a passage to France; and from thence followed the Pretender to Rome, subsisting on such petty pension as his master could allow him. Returning some short time afterwards, he married the widow of Lord Newborough, by whom he had a son. In 1733 he came to England; and resided in Pall Mall, without any molestation, though known to the ministry. [Note: Some years after the quelling of the last rebellion, the Pretender came in disguise to view London. This was a natural; but dangerous curiosity, to behold the place where his grandfather, King James II. had been on the throne. On the ministers being apprised of this circumstance, in haste went to King George II. with the information; and recommended his immediate apprehension. The monarch, with one of his shrewd answers, for which he was remarkable, replied, "No― let the poor man satisfy his curiosity; when done, he will quietly go back to France." The King's observation was verified.]

He returned to France, and in 1735 again came to England to solicit his pardon, but without success, though he appeared publicly, and visited several families particularly in Essex. Returning again to France, he unfortunately accepted of the French king's commission, to act as an officer in the rebellion, and was taken as we have already described.

On the 22d of October, 1746, he was brought to the bar of the Court of King's Bench and was arraigned, but refused to hold up his hand, or acknowledge any other jurisdiction than that of the King of France, insisting on a commission he had in his pocket from him, and appealing to the Sicilian ambassador, who was then in court, for the authenticity thereof. On hearing his former indictment and conviction read; he said, that he was not the Charles Ratcliffe therein named, but that he was the Earl of Derwentwater, and his counsel informed the court, that such was the plea they meant to abide by, and thereupon, issue was gained.

Then the counsel for the prisoner moved to put off his trial, upon his own affidavit (to which he has subscribed himself the Count de Derwentwater,) that two of his material witnesses, naming them, were abroad, without whose testimony he could not safely go to trial. To which affidavit the counsel for the crown objected, as not being entitled as in the cause before the court; nor the two witnesses sworn to be material, in the issue then joined between the king and the prisoner; and also, because the prisoner had not so much as undertaken to swear for himself, that he was not the person, which, as it was a fact entirely in his own knowledge, ought to be required of him, if he would entitle himself to this favour from the court; this being a proceeding very different from the trial upon a not guilty, in an original prosecution on a charge of high treason or other crime, the identity of the person being the single fact to be inquired of, and a case in which the crown had a right by law to proceed instanter.

Upon this the prisoner amended his affidavit as to the witnesses, but refused to supply it so far as to swear he was not the same person. And the court said, this was a new precedent, there being no instance of any application to put off the trial of a question of this sort before; and that this was like an inquest of office, in order to inform the conscience of the court, and what the public had a right to proceed in instanter. And therefore that the prisoner ought to give all reasonable satisfaction to induce them to grant such a favour as the prisoner desired, for they could not in conscience and justice to the public indulge him, without a reasonable satisfaction that his plea was true. But the prisoner still refusing to swear to the truth of his plea, the jury were called, and after two or three of the panel had been sworn, Mr. Ratcliffe challenged the next that was called, as of right, without assigning any reason; but upon debate of the question, how far he had right to challenge, the court said, it had been determined, before, in all the latter cases, and particularly in the case of one Jordan, that the prisoner, in such a case as this had no peremptory challenge; upon which the rest of the jury were sworn, and after a clear evidence of the identity of the person on the part of the crown, the prisoner producing none on his part, the jury withdrew about ten minutes, and then found their verdict, that he was the same Charles Ratcliffe who was convicted of high treason, in the year 1715.

Then the attorney-general moved to have execution awarded against the prisoner on his former judgment; to which the prisoner's counsel objected, tendering a plea of pardon by act of parliament, in bar of execution. But the court said, as he had already pleaded such a plea as he chose to rely on, and as that was found against him, nothing more remained for them to do at present but to award execution; and if his counsel had any thing to offer in his behalf, they would have time to do it before the day of execution; and ordered a rule to be made for the proper writs for his execution on the  8th of next month, and remanded the prisoner to the Tower. He was about five feet ten inches high, upwards of fifty, was dressed in scarlet, faced with black velvet, and gold buttons, a gold-laced waistcoat, bag wig, and had hat with a white feather.

His design in styling himself Earl of Derwentwater, was, that he might pass for Francis, his younger brother, who went to France before 1715; but was thought to be dead. He would not call the Lord Chief Justice lord, because the title of earl was not given him: he refused to hold up his hand at the bar, and being told that as a gentleman he ought to comply, and that his own counsel would satisfy him that it was only a form of the court, he said; I know many things, that I will not advise with my counsel upon. On hearing the rule for his execution, he desired time, because he and Lord Moreton (in the Bastile at Paris) should take the same journey at the same time.

About eight o' clock on the 8th of December, two troops of life-guards, and one troop of horse-guards, marched through the city for Little Tower-hill, where they were joined by a battalion of foot-guards, to attend the execution of Charles Ratcliffe, Esq. About ten o'clock the block, with a cushion, both covered with black, were brought up, and fixed upon the stage; and soon after Mr. Ratcliffe's coffin, covered with black velvet, with eight handles, on which with the nails were gilt with gold, but there was no plate, or any inscription upon it. At near eleven the sheriffs, Mr. Alderman Winterbottom, and Mr. Alderman Alsop, with their officers, came to see if the scaffold was finished, (the carpenters, &c. who had very short notice; having worked all day on Sunday and the ensuing night,) and if every thing was prepared for  Mr. Ratcliffe's reception; which, being to their satisfaction, they went to the Tower, and demanded the body of Mr. Ratcliffe, of General Williamson, deputy governor; upon being surrendered, he was first put into a landau, and carried over the Wharf, at the end of which he was put into a mourning coach, and conveyed into a small booth joining to the stairs of the scaffold, lined with black, where he spent about half an hour in devotion, and then, preceded by the sheriffs, the divine, and some gentlemen his friends. When he came upon the scaffold, he took leave of his friends with great serenity and calmness of mind, and having spoken a few words to the executioner, gave him a purse of ten guineas, put on a damask cap, knelt down to prayers, which lasted about seven. minutes, all the spectators on the scaffold kneeling: with him. Prayers being over, he pulled off his clothes, and put his head to the block, from whence he soon got up, and having spoke a few words, he knelt down to it, and fixing his head, in about two minutes gave the signal to the executioner, who at three blows struck it off, which was received in a scarlet cloth, held for that purpose. He was dressed in scarlet, faced with black velvet, trimmed with gold, a  gold-laced waistcoat, and a white feather in his hat. He behaved with the greatest fortitude and coolness of temper, and was no way shocked at the approach of death.

His body was immediately put into the coffin, and carried back in a hearse to the Tower; and the scaffold booth, and all the boards belonging to them, were cleared away in the afternoon. He behaved himself very alert until the 4th, when he received a letter from his niece, the Lady Petre, which engaged him to appear in a more serious manner, agreeably to his unhappy fate. His corpse was on the 11th, carried in a hearse, attended by two mourning coaches, to St. Giles in the fields, and there interred with the remains of the late Earl of Derwentwater, according to his desire, with this inscription on his coffin:

Carolus Ratcliffe, Comes de Derwentwater, decollatus die 8 Decembris, 1746; Ætatis 53 Requiescat in pace.

It seems the Derwentwater estate was only confiscated to the crown for the life of Charles Ratcliffe, Esq.; but by a clause in an act of parliament passed some years since, which says, that the issue of any person attainted of high treason, born and bred in any foreign dominion, and a Roman Catholic, shall forfeit his reversion. Such estate, and the remainder shall for ever be fixed in the crown, his son was absolutely deprived of any title or interest in the affluent fortune of that ancient family, to the amount of more than £200,000.

This unhappy gentleman was the youngest brother of James Earl of Derwentwater, who was executed in 1716; they were sons of Sir Francis Radcliffe, by the lady Mary Tudor, natural daughter to King Charles II by Mrs. Mary Davis.

He died in the principles in which he had lived, and was so zealous a Papist, that on the absurdities of some things which are held sacred by the church of Rome being objected to him, he replied, "That for every tenet of that church, repugnant to reason, in which she requires an implicit belief, he wished there were twenty, that he might thereby have a nobler opportunity of exercising and displaying his faith."

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17: Thomas Cappock

The rebel bishop of Carlisle.

WE have already, in our statement of the strength of the garrison at Carlisle, announced a bishop, created by the Pretender. Such anecdotes of this enthusiastic rebel, as we have been able to glean from the public prints of the year of this rebellion, we have put together, in order to allot to this would-be Right Reverend Father in God, a memoir independent of the treacherous group among whom he swung on the gallows.

On the 12th of August, 1746, the Lord Chief Baron Parker, Baron Clarke, Judges Burnett and Dennison, arrived at Carlisle, and by virtue of a special commission for that purpose to them directed, convened a Court, for the purpose of trying the rebels found in arms, on the surrender of Carlisle. On the 14th the Scotch prisoners were arraigned, but the witnesses in behalf of the crown (also Scotchmen) refused to swear in the form prescribed by the laws of England. The judgestherefore deferred the trial in order to consult on this contumacy; but next morning allowed them to take the oath after the Scotch form. Bills of indictment were found against all the officers, as well as bishop Cappock; but the common men, amounting to near four hundred, were ordered to cast lots; and of every twenty nineteen were to be transported, and the twentieth put upon his trial for high treason. Some few refused this lenity, depending upon so deceiving the evidence as not to recognize them; for this purpose they cut off each others hair, changed their clothing, and by every other method which they could devise, disguised themselves.

When the grand jury presented true bills, the whole of those indicted were brought to the bar, whom the Lord Chief Baron told that the Court desired them to choose what counsel they pleased, with a solicitor -- that the Court had given orders to their clerk, to make out subpoenas for them, gratis, and by virtue thereof, to bring forward such witnesses as they imagined could, in any manner, tend to their exculpation. [Note: We make here an involuntary pause upon the humanity of the English law, extended to the utmost in this case, to men taken in arms against their Sovereign and we rather doubt, whether the Pretender, had he gained his cause, would have allotted his prisoners quite so fair a trial.]

In order to give them every chance for this end, the Judges adjourned the Court, and proceeded to the city of York, where a number of more rebels were in confinement, and where bills were found against seventy-nine of them. It was near a month before they returned to Carlisle. On the 9th of September, 1762, [they] were arraigned at the bar of the court of the latter city, of whom fifty-nine pleaded not guilty. On the 10th forty-five more were brought up, and all pleaded not guilty, except three, one of whom was a desperate turbulent fellow, a rebel captain named Robert Taylor, who had repeatedly vaunted that he would take Edinburgh castle in three days. The next day twelve more were arraigned, and among them was the more immediate subject of the present page -- the rebellious bishop.

He appeared at the bar in his gown and cassock, assumed much confidence, and appeared to entertain no idea that he could be  convicted. He made a speech to the Court and Jury, which chiefly went to shew, that he joined the rebels by compulsion alone. He called his father, and one Mary Humphries, to substantiate this assertion; but their evidence fell far short of so doing. A witness, however, proved, that the prisoner had made an attempt to escape from the rebels. On the other side, it was proved, that he voluntarily went with the rebels from Manchester to Derby, and thence back to Carlisle. It further appeared, that wherever the rebels went he read public prayers for King James, and Charles Prince of Wales, Regent of England. At Manchester he preached in one of the churches, and took his text from Psalm. xcvii. "The Lord is King, the earth may be glad thereof." At Carlisle he appeared the Church Militant, with a hanger by his side, a plaid sash, and white cockade, acting also as a Quarter Master. Another witness proved, that this fighting bishop told him of his engaging two of the kings soldiers, and taking them both prisoners; and he vaunted, that his Prince had offered battle to the Duke of Cumberland, who run away; that they (the rebels) returned to Scotland, only to join Lord George Drummond, who had landed with many thousand French, to assist their cause.

[Note:  This gasconade had a spice of the French in it, from whom the mock bishop doubtless acquired this Bobadil-like boasting. We have even seen the reverse; the Duke constantly pursuing the Pretender.]

His evidence, Miss Humphries, was shewn a letter, which she acknowledged to be the hand-writing of the bishop; wherein he had the effrontery to tell the barefaced falsehood of the Duke of Cumberland ordering him to be kept on half a pound of bread per day, and nasty water, because he advised to give battle to him at Stanwix, and protested against the surrender of Carlisle.

The jury, notwithstanding the confidence apparent in the prisoner through his whole trial, which lasted sit hours, in two minutes found him guilty. The priest, it seems, still did not abandon himself to his fate; for in a few days it was discovered, that he and six more condemned rebels, had sawed off their irons, and were about to attempt an escape. The instrument with which they effected this,. was prepared for the purpose by a new and curious method. It is thus described, "They laid a silk handkerchief singly over the mouth of a drinking-glass, and tied it hard at the bottom, then struck the edge of a case knife on the brim of the glass, (thus covered to prevent noise) till it became a saw. With such knives they cut their irons, and when the teeth were blunt, they had recourse to the glass to renew it. A knife will not cut a handkerchief when struck upon it in this manner."

Cappock,  with the other convicted rebels, were hanged at Carlisle, on the 28th of October, 1746.

[Note: Another furious non-juring priest was taken among the rebels, of the name of Robert Lyon. This turbulent rebel, under the gallows at Penrith, read a long and infamous libel against the King and Government of England, and the sheriff, to his disgrace, permitted him to harangue, in a similar strain near half an hour, with the halter round his neck; concluding with this hardened exclamation, "If my life was now given to me, I would still continue in the same principles, and assist the virtuous cause of King James."]

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1747

18: Lord Lovat

Beheaded for High Treason, at the age of Eighty, on 9th of April, 1747

LORD LOVAT, who in 1715 had been a supporter of the House of Hanover, in 1745 changed sides, and became a friend of the party which he had before opposed.

His career in life began in the year 1692, when he was appointed a captain in Lord Tullibardine's regiment, but he resigned his commission in order to prosecute his claim to be the Chief of the Frasers; in order to effect which he laid a scheme to get possession of the heiress of Lovat, who was about to be married to a son of Lord Salton. He raised a clan, who violently seized the young lord, and, erecting a gibbet, showed it to him and his father, threatening their instant deaths unless they relinquished the contract made for the heiress of Lovat. To this, fearing for their lives, they consented; but, still unable to get possession of the young lady, he seized the Dowager Lady Lovat in her own house, caused a priest to marry them against her consent, cut her stays open with his dirk, and, assisted by his ruffians, tore off her clothes, forced her into bed, to which he followed her, and then called his companions to witness the consummation of the outrageous marriage. For this breach of the peace he was indicted, but fled from justice; but he was nevertheless tried for rape, and for treason, in opposing the laws with an armed force; and sentence of outlawry was pronounced against him. Having fled to France, he turned Papist, ingratiated himself with the Pretender, and was rewarded by him with a commission; but he was apprehended on the remonstrance of the English ambassador in Paris, and lodged in the Bastille, where, having remained some years, he procured his liberty by taking priests' orders, under colour of which he became a Jesuit in the College of St Omer.

In the first rebellion of 1715 he returned to Scotland, and, joining the King's troops, assisted them in seizing Inverness from the rebels; for which service he got the title of Lovat, was appointed to command, and had other favours conferred upon him. In the rebellion of which we are now treating he turned sides and joined the Pretender, a step treacherous in the extreme. When taken, he was old, unwieldy and almost helpless; although in that condition he had been possessed of infinite resources to assist the rebellion. He petitioned the Duke of Cumberland for mercy; and, hoping to work upon his feelings, recapitulated his former services, the favours that he had received from the Duke's grandfather, King George I., and dwelt much upon his access to Court, saying he had carried him to whom he now sued for life in his arms and, when a baby, held him up while his grandsire fondled him.

On the 9th of March, 1747, however, he was taken from the Tower to Westminster Hall for trial, and, the evidence adduced clearly proving his guilt to be of no ordinary character, he was convicted. He was next day brought up for judgment, and sentence of death was pronounced.

That this sentence was not ill deserved appears from a speech of Lord Belhaven, delivered in the last Parliament held in Edinburgh, in 1706, in which his lordship, speaking of this nobleman, then Captain Fraser, on occasion of the Scots plot, commonly called Fraser's plot, says that "he deserved, if practicable, to have been hanged five several times, in five different places, and upon five different accounts at least: as having been notoriously a traitor to the Court of St James's, a traitor to the Court of St Germain's, a traitor to the Court of Versailles and a traitor to his own country of Scotland; in being not only an avowed and restless enemy to the peace and quiet of its established government and constitution, both in Church and State, but likewise, a vile Proteus-like apostate and a seducer of others in point of religion, as the tide or wind changed; and, moreover, that (abstracted from all those, his multiplied acts of treason, abroad and at home) he deserved to be hanged as a condemned criminal, outlaw and fugitive, for the barbarous, cruel and most flagitious rape he had, with the assistance of some of his vile and abominable band of ruffians, violently committed on the body of a right honourable and virtuous lady, the widow of the late Lord Lovat, and sister of his Grace the late Duke of Atholl. Nay, so hardened was Captain Fraser, that he audaciously erected a gallows, and threatened to hang thereon one of the said lady's brothers and some other gentlemen of quality who accompanied him in going to rescue him out of that criminal's cruel hand."

On the morning fixed for his execution, 9th of April, 1747, Lord Lovat, who was now in his eightieth year, and very large and unwieldy in his person, awoke at about three o'clock, and was heard to pray with great devotion. At five o'clock he arose, and asked for a glass of wine-and-water, and at eight o'clock he desired that his wig might be sent, that the barber might have time to comb it out genteelly, and he then provided himself with a purse to hold the money which he intended for the executioner. At about half-past nine o'clock he ate heartily of minced veal, and ordered that his friends might be provided with coffee and chocolate, and at eleven o'clock the sheriffs came to demand his body. He then requested his friends to retire while he said a short prayer; but he soon called them back, and said that he was ready.

At the bottom of the first pair of stairs, General Williamson invited him into his room to rest himself, which he did, and on his entrance, paid his respects to the company politely, and talked freely. He desired of the general, in French, that he might take leave of his lady, and thank her for her civilities: but the general told his lordship, in the same language, that she was too much affected with his lordship's misfortunes to bear the shock of seeing him, and therefore hoped his lordship would excuse her. He then took his leave, and proceeded. At the door he bowed to the spectators, and was conveyed from thence to the outer gate in the governor's coach, where he was delivered to the sheriffs, who conducted him in another coach to the house near the scaffold, in which was a room lined with black cloth, and hung with sconces, for his reception. His friends were at first denied entrance but, upon application made by his lordship to the sheriffs for their admittance, it was granted. Soon after, his lordship, addressing himself to the sheriffs, thanked them for the favour, and taking a paper out of his pocket, delivered it to one of them, saying he should make no speech and that they might give the word of command when they pleased. A gentleman present beginning to react a prayer to his lordship while he was sitting, he called one of the warders to help him up, that he might kneel. He then prayed silently a short time, and afterwards sat again in his chair. Being asked by one of the  sheriffs if he would refresh himself with a glass of wine, he declined it, because no warm water could be had to mix with it, and took a little burnt brandy and bitters in its stead. He requested that his clothes might be delivered to his friends with his corpse, and said for that reason he should give the executioner ten guineas. He also desired of the sheriffs that his head might be received in a cloth, and put into the coffin, which the sheriffs, after conferring with some gentlemen present, promised should be done; as also that the holding up the head at the corners of the scaffold should be dispensed with, as it had been of late years at the execution of lords.

When his lordship was going up the steps to the scaffold, assisted by two warders, he looked round, and, seeing so great a concourse of people, "God save us," says he, "why should there be such a bustle about taking off an old grey head, that cannot get up three steps without three bodies to support it?"

Turning about, and observing one of his friends much dejected, he clapped him on the shoulder, saying: "Cheer up thy heart, man! I am not afraid; why should you be so?" As soon as he came upon the scaffold he asked for the executioner, and presented him with ten guineas in a purse, and then, desiring to see the axe, he felt the edge and said he "believed it would do." Soon after, he rose from the chair which was placed for him and looked at the inscription on his coffin, and on sitting down again he repeated from Horace: "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori" [it is sweet and fitting to die for one's country] and afterwards from Ovid [Met. 13. 140-1]: "Nam genus et proavos, et quae non fecimus ipsi, Vix ea nostra voco." [As for things done by our ancestors and other people than ourselves, I say we can have no credit for them]

He then desired all the people to stand off, except his two warders, who supported his lordship while he said a prayer; after which he called his solicitor and agent in Scotland, Mr W. Fraser, and, presenting his gold-headed cane, said, "I deliver you this cane in token of my sense of your faithful services, and of my committing to you all the power I have upon earth," and then embraced him. He also called for Mr James Fraser, and said: "My dear James, I am going to heaven; but you must continue to crawl a little longer in this evil world." And, taking leave of both, he delivered his hat, wig and clothes to Mr William Fraser, desiring him to see that the executioner did not touch them. He ordered his cap to be put on, and, unloosing his neckcloth and the collar of his shirt, knelt down at the block, and pulled the cloth which was to receive his head close to him. But, being placed too near the block, the executioner desired him to remove a little farther back, which with the warders' assistance was immediately done; and, his neck being properly placed, he told the executioner he would say a short prayer and then give the signal by dropping his handkerchief. In this posture he remained about half-a-minute, and then, on throwing his handkerchief on the floor, the executioner at one blow cut off his head, which was received in the cloth, and, with his body was put into the coffin and carried in a hearse back to the Tower, where it was interred near the bodies of the other lords.

His lordship professed himself a papist, and, at his request, was attended by Mr Baker. attached to the chapel of the Sardinian ambassador; and though he insisted much on the services he had done the royal family in 1715, yet he declared, but a few days before his death, that he had been concerned in all the schemes formed for restoring the house of Stuart since he was fifteen years old.

This nobleman's intellectual powers seem to have been considerable and his learning extensive. He spoke Latin, French, and English, fluently, and other modern languages intelligibly. He studied at Aberdeen, and disputed his philosophy in Greek; and, though he was educated a protestant, yet, after three years' study of divinity and controversy, he turned papist. He maintained an appearance of that facetious disposition for which he was remarkable, to the last ; and seems to have taken great pains to quit the stage, not only with decency, but with that dignity which is thought to distinguish the good conscience and the noble mind.

The following lines upon the execution of these noblemen are said to have been repeated with great energy by Dr Johnson, although there appears to he no ground for supposing that they were the Doctor's own composition. They first appeared in the Gentleman's Magazine:

Pitied by gentle minds, Kilmarnock died

The Brave, Balmerino, were on thy side;

Ratcliffe, unhappy in his crimes of youth,

Steady in what he still mistook for truth,

Beheld his death so decently unmoved,

The soft lamented, and the brave approved.

But Lovat's end indifferently we view,

True to no King, to no religion true:

No fair forgets the ruin he has done;

No child laments the tyrant of his son;

No Tory pities thinking what he was

No Whig compassions, for he left the cause;

The brave regret not, for he was not brave;

The honest mourn not, knowing him a knave."

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19: Francis Townley, Jemmy Dawson And Others

Lesser rebels against his Majesty

FRANCIS TOWNLEY, Late Rebel Colonel of their Manchester Regiment, was indicted at the sessions held at St. Margaret's Hall, for the part he had acted in the rebellion. His counsel insisted that he was not a subject of Great Britain, being an officer in the service of the French king; but this the judges observed was a circumstance against him; as he had quitted his native country., and engaged in the French service, without the consent of his lawful sovereign. Some other motions, equally frivolous, being overruled, he was capitally convicted, and adjudged to die.

Colonel Townley was the son of ― Townley, Esq; of Townley-Hall in Lancashire, who was tried for the share he had in the rebellion of 1715, but acquitted.

Young Mr. Townley being educated in the rigid principles of popery, went abroad in early life, and entering into the service of France, distinguished himself in the military line, particularly at the siege of Phillipsbourg.

Coming to England in 1742, he associated chiefly with those of the Catholic religion; and it was thought that he induced many of them to take an active part in the rebellion. When the Pretender came to Manchester, Townley offered his services: which being accepted, he was commissioned to raise a regiment, which he soon completed; but being made a prisoner at Carlisle, he was conducted to London.

After conviction he behaved in the most reserved manner, scarcely speaking to any one but his brethren in misfortune.

John Barkwick, formerly a linen-draper of Manchester, but afterwards a lieutenant, was the next person tried and convicted. This man was distinguished by living elegantly in prison; and it was remarked that the prisoners in general were amply supplied with the necessaries of life, by the bounty of their friends. It is asserted that they expected to be treated as prisoners of war; but it is not credible that they could be so totally ignorant of the law of nations, or their duty as subjects.

James Dawson, a native of Lancashire, was genteelly born, and liberally educated at St. John's College, in Cambridge. After leaving the University he repaired to Manchester, where the Pretender gave him a captain's commission. Dawson had paid his addresses to a young lady, to whom he was to have been married immediately after his enlargement, if the solicitations that were made for his pardon had been attended with the desired effect.

The circumstance of his love, and the melancholy that was produced by his death, is so admirably touched in the following ballad of Shenstone, that Dawson's story will probably be remembered and regretted when that of the rest of the rebels will be forgotten. A man must have lost all feeling who can read this beautiful ballad, equally remarkable for its elegance, its simplicity, and its truth, and remain unaffected.

JEMMY DAWSON, A BALLAD.

Come listen to my mournful tale,

Ye tender hearts and lovers dear;

Nor will you scorn to heave a sigh,

Nor will you blush to shed a tear.

And thou, dear Kitty, peerless maid,

Do thou a pensive ear incline,

For thou canst weep at ev'ry woe,

And pity ev'ry plaint but mine. --

Young Dawson was a gallant youth,

A brighter never trod the plain;

And, well he lov'd one charming maid,

And dearly was he lov'd again.

One tender maid she lov'd him dear,

Of gentle blood the damsel came,

And faultless was her beauteous form;

And spotless, was her virgin fame.

But curse on party's hateful strife,

That led the faithful youth astray,

The day the rebel clans appeared:

O! had he never seen that day!

Their colours and their sash he wore,

And in their fatal dress was found;

And now he must that death endure,

Which gives the brave the keenest wound.

How pale was then his true-love's cheek,

When Jemmy's sentence reach'd her ear?

For never yet did Alpine snows,

So pale, nor yet so chill appear.

Yet might sweet mercy find a place,

And bring relief to Jemmy's woes,

O George! without a pray'r for thee,

My orisons should never close.

The gracious prince that gives him life,

Would crown a never dying flame,

And ev'ry tender babe I bore,

Should learn to lisp the givers name.

But though, dear youth, thou should'st be dragg'd

To yonder ignominious tree,

Thou shalt not want a faithful friend,

To share thy bitter fate with thee.

O then her mourning coach was call'd;

The sledge mov'd slowly on before;

Though borne in a triumphal car,

She had not lov'd her fav'rite more.

She follow'd him, prepar'd to view.

The terrible behests of law;

And the last scene of Jemmy's woes,

With calm and steadfast eyes she saw.

Distorted was that blooming face,

Which she had fondly lov'd so long;

And stifled was that tuneful breath,

Which in her praise had sweetly sung:

And sever'd was that beauteous neck,

Round which her arms had fondly clos'd;

And mangled was that beauteous breast,

On which her love-sick head repos'd:

And ravish'd was that constant heart,

She did to ev'ry heart prefer?

For though it could his king forget,

'Twas true and loyal still to her.

Amidst those unrelenting flames,

She bore this constant heart to see;

But when 'twas moulder'd into dust,

Yet, yet, she cry'd, I'll follow thee,,

My death, my death, can only shew,

The pure and lasting love I bore;

Accept, O Heav'n! of woes like ours,

And let us, let us weep no more.

The dismal scene was o'er and past,

The lover's mournful hearse retied;

The maid drew back her languid head,

And, sighing forth his name, expir'd.

Tho' Justice ever must prevail,

The tear my Kitty sheds is due:

For seldom shall we, hear a tale;

So sad, so tender, and so true.

Another of the parties tried on this occasion was George Fletcher, who had been a linen-draper at Stratford near Manchester, managing the business for his mother, who, on her knees, persuaded him not to engage with the rebels; and offered him 10001. on the condition that he would not embark in so desperate an enterprize; but he was deaf to her entreaties, and so ambitious of serving the Pretender, that he gave his secretary, Mr. Murray, fifty pounds for a captain's commission. Fletcher having induced one Maddox to enlist, the man would have deserted, but he produced a handful of gold, and said he should not want money if he would fight for the Pretender; which induced Maddox to keep his station.

Thomas Syddall was a barber at Manchester, and had supported a wife and five children in a creditable way, till the rebels troops arrived at that place. His father was hanged at Manchester, for his concern in the rebellion of 1715, and his head had remained on the market-cross till the year 1745, when it was taken down on the arrival of the Pretender. Syddall, who was a rigid Roman Catholic, now vowed revenge against the Protestants, with a view to accomplish which, he obtained an ensign's commission from the Pretender's secretary. The attachment of this man to the Pretender was so extraordinary, that almost in the last moment of his life, he prayed that his children might be ready to assert the same at the hazard of their lives.

Thomas Chadwick was tried immediately after Syddall. He was a tallow-chandler, but had not long followed business; for, associating with persons of Jacobitical principles, he accepted the commission of lieutenant in the Pretender's service; and he was tried for, and convicted of acting in that capacity. Chadwick appeared to have great resolution; and told his friends that death, in any shape, had no terrors for him: but his courage forsook him, and he seemed greatly agitated on taking leave of his father the night before his execution.

Thomas Deacon, the next person tried, was the son of a physician of eminence. His principles of loyalty being tainted by associating with Jacobites, he became zealous in the cause of the Pretender; and his zeal was rewarded by the commission of lieutenant-colonel in the Manchester regiment. Mr. Deacon had declared his resolution of joining the rebels as soon as he heard they were in arms in Scotland; and when they arrived at Manchester, he became one of their number. His two brothers likewise embarked in this fatal business: and one of them was sentenced to die with him: but being only sixteen years of age, he was happy enough to obtain a pardon.

The next convict on this melancholy occasion was Andrew Blood, who had been steward to a gentleman in Yorkshire, of which county he was a native, and descended from a respectable family. Quitting his service, he went to Manchester to join the rebels, and received a captains commission. He pleaded guilty to the indictment, and received sentence with the utmost composure and resignation. The gentleman whom he had served as steward exerted his utmost influence to procure a pardon for him; but the Culprit being told that all endeavours were fruitless, expressed the utmost unconcern, and said he was willing to become a martyr for the cause he had abetted; adding that he had  prepared for death, having entertained no hope of pardon.

The next person brought to trial and conviction was David Morgan, Esq. of Monmouthshire. This man had been sent by his father to study law in the Temple; and practised a short time as a counsellor; but his father dying, he went to reside on his estate in the country. He was distinguished by the haughtiness of his temper, and a disposition to quarrel with his neighbours and servants. Having met the rebels at Manchester, he advised the Pretender to proceed immediately to London, assuring him that the whole force to oppose him did not exceed three thousand men. Had this advice been attended to, the rebellion might have been crushed much sooner than it was: for, no doubt, the people  would have arisen as one man, to oppose the progress of the lawless insurgents.

The Pretender having granted Morgan a warrant to search the houses in Manchester for arms, he did this in the strictest manner, and threatened with exemplary punishment all those who opposed him.

A colonel's commission was offered him; but he declined the acceptance of it, proposing rather to give his advice than his personal assistance. When the rebels marched to Derby, he quitted them; but, being taken into custody, he was lodged in Chester castle, and thence conveyed to London: and conviction following commitment, he was sentenced to die with his associates.

After the sentence of the law was passed, the convicts declared that they had acted according to the dictates of their consciences, and would again act the same parts, if they were put to trial. When the keeper informed them that the following day was ordered for their execution, they expressed a resignation to the will of God, embraced each other, and took an affectionate leave of their friends.

On the following morning they breakfasted together, and having conversed till near eleven o' clock, were conveyed from the New Gaol, Southwark, to Kennington Common, on three sledges. The gibbet was surrounded by a party of the guards, and a block; and a pile of faggots, were placed near it. The faggots were set on fire while the proper officers were removing the malefactors from the sledges.

After near an hour employed in acts of devotion, these unhappy men, having delivered to the sheriffs some papers, expressive of their political sentiments, then underwent the sentence of the law. They had not hung above five minutes, when Townley was cut down, being yet alive, and his body being placed on the block, the executioner chopped off his head with a cleaver. His heart and bowels were then taken out, and thrown into the fire; and the other parts being separately treated in the same manner, the executioner cried out "God save King George !"

The bodies were quartered and delivered to the keeper of the New Gaol, who buried them: the heads of some of the parties were sent to Carlisle and Manchester, where they were exposed; but those of Townley and Fletcher were fixed on Temple-Bar, where they remained many years, till they fell down.

These victims to their rashness suffered on Kennington Common, on the 20th of July, 1746.

Three other persons suffered soon afterwards on the same spot, for similar offences; of which the following are such particulars as will be interesting to the reader.

Donald M‘Donald had joined the Pretender soon after he came to Scotland, and had received a captain's commission. He was educated by an uncle, who told him he would tarnish the glory of his ancestors, who had been warmly attached to the cause, if he failed to act with courage.

M‘Donald was ever foremost where danger presented itself: he was greatly distinguished at the battle of Preston Pans, and joined with Lord Nairn in taking possession of Perth; services that greatly recommended him to the Pretender. This man was exceedingly assiduous to learn the art of war, and made himself of so much consequence as to be intrusted with the command of, two thousand men. The Duke of Perth having ordered two men, who refused to enlist, to be shot, M‘Donald complained to his uncle, who had likewise a command in the rebel army, of the injustice of this proceeding; but the uncle ordered the nephew into custody, and told him that he should be shot on the following day; and actually informed the Pretender of what had passed; but M‘Donald was only reprimanded, and dismissed, on promise of more cautious behaviour in future..

After his commitment to prison, M‘Donald frequently wished that he had been shot. Being advised to repent, he said it would be fruitless, and he had rather hear a tune on the sweet bagpipes that used to play before the army. He often told the keepers of the prison, that "if they would knock off his fetters, and give him a pair of bagpipes he would, treat them with a highland  dance."

He said, he thought the Pretender's service very honourable when he first engaged in it, which he would never have done if he had thought him so ill provided for the expedition.. He likewise expressed the utmost resentment against the French king for not supplying them with succours.

James Nicholson had been educated in principles averse to those of the abettors of the house of Stuart, but had been fatally prevailed on to change his political sentiments, by some Jacobites, who frequented a coffeehouse which he kept at Leith with great reputation for a considerable time.

Having accepted a lieutenant's commission on the arrival of the rebels at Edinburgh, he proceeded with them as far as Derby; but when they returned to Carlisle, he was taken into custody, and sent with the other prisoners to London.

After conviction he was visited by his wife and children, which afforded a scene of distress that is not to be described. He now lamented the miseries that he had brought on his family; but his penitence came too late!

The county of Banff, in Scotland, gave birth to Walter Ogilvie, who was brought up a Protestant, and taught the duty of allegiance to the illustrious house of Brunswick; but some of his associates having contaminated his principles, he went to Lord Lewis Gordon, and joined the division of rebels under his command.

Ogilvie's father represented to him the rashness and impracticability of the scheme in which he was about to engage; but the young man said he was persuaded of its justice; and that the Pretender had a right to his best services.

After conviction these unfortunate men behaved for some time with great indifference; but on the nearer approach of death they grew more serious. On the morning of their execution, having been visited by some friends, they were drawn on a sledge to Kennington Common, where they were turned off as soon as their devotions were ended; and after hanging about a quarter of an hour, they were cut down, their heads cut off, their bowels taken out and burnt, and their bodies conveyed to the New Gaol, Southwark, and on the following day they were interred in one grave, in the new burial ground belonging to the parish of Bloomsbury.

These unfortunate men suffered at Kennington Common, on the 22nd of August, 1746.

Alexander M‘Gruther, a lieutenant in the Duke of Perth's regiment, and who had been very active among the rebels, was condemned with the three parties above-mentioned, but he had the happiness to obtain a reprieve through the interest of his friends.

Many other of the prisoners tried and convicted in Surrey were reprieved, as proper objects of the royal mercy; and the assizes for that county being ended, the judges, who were furnished with a special commission, proceeded to Carlisle to try those confined in the castle of that city, the number of whom was no less than three hundred and seventy.

Orders were given that nineteen out of twenty of these should be transported, and only the twentieth man tried for his life; and that the chance of trial should be determined by lot; but many of them refused to accept these merciful terms.

Bills of indictment having been found against them, they were informed that counsel and solicitors would be allowed them without expense; and were told that the clerk of the peace was commissioned to grant subpoenas for such witnesses as they thought might be of service to them. This being done, the Judges proceeded to York Castle, to try those there confined, and adjourned the assizes at Carlisle till the ninth of September, that the accused parties might have time to make a proper defence.

In the mean time seventy were condemned of those confined at York, the most remarkable of whom was John Hamilton, Esq. who had been appointed Governor of Carlisle, having joined the Pretender after the battle of Preston Pans. On the first of November, ten of the convicts were executed at York, and eleven more on the eighth of the same month; and four were ordered to suffer on the fifteenth, but three of these were reprieved.

The Judges now returned to Carlisle, and as many of the witnesses on the behalf of the prisoners had time from Scotland, they refused to be sworn in the English manner, and at length they were sworn according to the custom of their own country.

Many of the prisoners pleaded guilty, and among those who stood the event of a trial, and were convicted, was a nonjuring clergyman named Cappock, who had preached to the rebels at Carlisle and Manchester;

No less than ninety-one persons received sentence of death at Carlisle, several of whom were people of fortune, who had abandoned their better prospects in life to take part in this desperate rebellion. Ten of them were hanged and quartered at Carlisle on the 18th of October, and ten more at Brampton, in Cumberland, on the 1st of the same. month; but a number of them were transported, and several received an unconditional pardon.

Five other of the rebels who had been tried in Surrey, suffered at Kennington Common, on the 28th of the month above-mentioned, one of whom at the place of execution drank a health to the Pretender.

In, consequence of these convictions, many estates were forfeited to the crown; but King George the Second ordered them to be sold, and the whole produce, above twenty years purchase, to be given to the orphans of those who had forfeited them. The rest was employed in establishing schools in the Highlands, and instructing the natives in useful arts.

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20: The Escape Of The Pretender

TO ENUMERATE the different trials of the rebels convicted and executed would nearly fill one of our volumes; and having given the outlines of the treason in which they were all implicated, a recapitulation of the evidence to the same tenor, is unnecessary. Let it therefore suffice to say, that numbers were executed in different parts of England, and many of their heads placed on public buildings, and others transported to America.

Yet, we think our readers would be gratified, by a knowledge of the escape of the leading men of this French treachery and rebellion,―the young Pretender; and to this end, we have selected the following interesting and genuine account:

"That decisive engagement was fought on the 16th of April, 1746, in which the Pretender had his horse shot under him, by one of the troopers in the kings service, as he was endeavouring to rally his people. After his forces were entirely defeated, he retired to the house of a factor of Lord Lovat, about ten miles from Inverness, where meeting with that lord, he stayed supper. After supper was over he set out for Fort Augustus, and pursued his journey next day to Invergarry, where he proposed to have dined; but finding no victuals, he set a boy to fishing, who caught two salmon, on which he made a dinner, and continued waiting there for some of his troops, who had promised to rendezvous at that place; but being disappointed, he resolved to proceed to Lochharciage.

"He arrived there on the 18th, at two in the morning, where he went to sleep, which he had not done for five days and nights. He remained there till five o' clock in the afternoon, in hopes of obtaining some intelligence; but gaining none, he set out from thence on foot, and travelled to the Glen of Morar, where he arrived the 19th at four in the morning. He set out about noon the same day for Arrashag, where he arrived about four in the afternoon. He remained there about seven days, waiting for Captain O'Neil, who joined him on the 27th, and informed him, that there was no hopes of drawing his troops together again in a body, upon which he resolved to go to Stornway, in order to hire a ship to go to France.

"The person employed for this purpose was one Donald M‘Leod, who had an interest there. On the 28th he went on board an eight-oar'd boat, in company with Sullivan and O'Neil, ordering the people who belonged to the boat to make the best haste they could to Stornway. The night proving very tempestuous, they all begged of him to go back, which he would not do; but, to keep up the spirits of the people, he sang them a Highland song; but the weather growing worse and worse, on the 29th, about seven in the morning, they were driven on shore, on a point of land called Rushness, in the island of Benbicula, where, when they got on shore, the Pretender helped to make a fire to warm the crew, who were almost starved to death with cold. On the 30th, at six in the evening, they set sail again for Stornway, but meeting with another storm, were obliged to put into the island of Scalpa, in the Harris, where they all went on shore to a farmers house, passing for merchants that were shipwrecked in their voyage to the Orkneys: the Pretender and Sullivan going by the names of Sinclair, the latter passing for the father, and the former his son.

"They thought proper to send from thence to Donald M‘Leod at Stornway, with instructions to freight a ship for the Orkneys: On the  3d of May, they received a message from him that a ship was ready. On the 4th they set out on foot for that place, where they arrived on the 5th about noon, and meeting with Donald M‘Leod, they found that he had got into company, where growing daring, he told a friend of his for whom he had hired the ship, upon which there were 200 people in arms at Stornway, upon a report that the Pretender was landed with 600 men, and was coming to burn the town; so that they were obliged to lie all night upon the moor, with no other refreshment than biscuit and brandy.

"On the 6th they resolved to go in the eight-oar'd boat, to the Orkneys; but the crew refused to venture, so that they were obliged to steer south along the coast-side where they met with two English ships, and this compelled them to put into a desert island, where they remained till the 10th, without any provision but some salt fish they found upon the island. About ten in the morning of that day they embarked for the Harris, and at break of day on the 11th they were chased by an English ship, but made their escape among the rocks. About four in the afternoon they arrived on the island of Benbicula, where they staid till the 14th, and then set out for the mountain of Currada in South Uist, where they staid till the militia, of the isle of Sky came to the island of Irasky, and then sailed for the island of Uia, where they remained three nights, till having intelligence that the militia were coming towards Benbicula, they immediately got into their boat, and sailed for Lochbusdale; but being met by some ships of war, they were obliged to return to Lochaguart, where they remained all day, and at night sailed for Lochbusdale; where they arrived, and staid eight days on a rock, making a tent of the sail of the boat.

They found themselves there in a most dreadful situation; for having intelligence that Captain Scott had landed at Kilbride, the company was obliged to separate, and the Pretender and O'Neil went to the mountains, where they remained all night, and soon after were informed that General Campbell was at Bernary; so that now they had forces very near, on both sides of them, and were absolutely at a loss which way to move. In their road they met with a young lady, one Miss

M‘Donald, to whom Captain O'Neil proposed assisting the Pretender to make his escape, which at first she refused; but upon his offering to put on woman's clothes, she consented, and desired them to go to the mountain of Currada till she sent for them, where they accordingly staid two days; but hearing nothing from the young lady, the Pretender concluded she would not keep her word; and therefore resolved to send Captain O'Neil to General Campbell, to let him know he was willing to surrender to him; but about five in the evening a message came from the young lady, desiring them to meet her at Rushness. Being afraid to pass by the Ford, because of the militia, they luckily found a boat, which carried them to the other side of Uia, where they remained part of the day, afraid of being seen by the country people. In the evening they set out for Rushness, and arrived there at twelve at night; but not finding the young lady, and being alarmed by a boat full of militia, they were obliged to retire two miles back, where the Pretender remained on a moor till O'Neil went to the young lady, and prevailed upon her to come to the place appointed at night-fall of the next day. About an hour after they had an account of General Campbell's arrival at Benbicula, which obliged them to move to another part of the island, where, as the day broke, they discovered four sail close on the shore, making directly up to the place where they were; so that there was nothing left for them to do, but to throw themselves among the heath. When the wherries were gone, they resolved to go to Clanronald's house; but when they were within a mile of it, they heard General Campbell was there, which forced them to retreat again.

The young Pretender having at length, with the assistance of Captain O'Neil, found Miss M‘Donald in a cottage near the place appointed, it was there determined that he should put on women's clothes, and pass for her waiting-maid. This being done, he took leave of Sullivan and O'Neil with great regret, who departed to shift for themselves, leaving him and his new mistress in the cottage, where they continued some days, during which she cured him of the itch. Upon intelligence that General Campbell was gone further into the country, they removed to her cousins, and spent the night in preparing for their departure to the Isle of Sky; accordingly they set out the next morning, with only one man-servant named M‘Lean and two rowers. During their voyage they were pursued by a small vessel; but a thick fog rising they arrived safe at midnight in that island, and landed at the foot of a rock, where the lady and her maid waited while her man M‘Lean went to see if Sir Alexander M‘Donald was at home; M‘Lean found his way thither, but lost it returning back; his mistress and her maid, after in vain expecting him the whole night, were obliged in the morning to leave the rock, and go in the boat up the creek to some distance, to avoid the militia which guarded the coast.

They went on shore again about ten o' clock, and, attended by the rowers, enquired the way to SirAlexander's: when they had gone about two miles, they met M‘Lean; he told his lady that Sir Alexander was with the Duke of Cumberland, but his lady was at home, and would do  them all the service she could; whereupon they discharged their boat, and went directly to the house, where they remained two days, they being always in her lady's chamber, except at nights, to prevent a discovery. But a party of the M‘Leods having intelligence that some strangers were arrived at Sir Alexander's, and knowing his lady was well-affected to the Pretender, came thither; and demanding to see the new comers, were introduced to Miss's chamber, where she sat with her new maid. The latter hearing the militia was at the door had the presence of mind to get up and open it, which occasioned his being the less taken notice of; and after they had narrowly searched the closets, they withdrew.

The enquiry, however, alarmed the lady, and the next day she sent her maid to a steward of Sir Alexander's, but hearing that his being in the island was known, he removed to Macdonald's at Kingsborough, ten miles distant, where he remained but one day; for on receiving intelligence that it was rumoured he was disguised in a woman's habit, M‘Donald furnished him with a suit of his own clothes, and he went in a boat to Macleod's, at Raza; but having no prospect, of escaping thence to France, he returned back on foot to the Isle of Sky, being thirty miles, with no attendant but a ferryman, whom he would not suffer to carry his wallet, M‘Leod assuring him that the elder Laird of M‘Innon would there render him all the service in his power.

When he arrived, not knowing the way to M‘Innon's house, he chanced to enquire of a gentleman, whom he met on the top of a mountain; this gentleman having seen him before, thought he recollected his face, and asked him if he was not the Prince. This greatly urprised him; but seeing the gentleman had only one person, a servant, with him, be answered, I am, at the same time putting himself in a posture of defence: but this person immediately discovered himself to be his good friend, Captain Macleod, and conducted him to M‘Innon's. The old man instantly knew him; but advised him immediately to go to Lochabar, and he accordingly set sail in a vessel which M‘Innon procured for that purpose.

After remaining seven days in the glens of Morar, he received advice that M‘Donald of Lochgarrie expected him in Lochabar, where he had one hundred resolute Highlanders in arms; upon this he went over the great hill of Morar, in a tattered Highland habit, and was joyfully received by M‘Donald at the head of his men.

With this party he roved from place to, place, till finding he could no longer remain in Lochabar, he removed to Badenoch; but being harassed by the king's troops, and losing daily some of his men in skirmishing, they dispersed; and the Pretender, with Lochiel of Barrisdale, and some others, skulked about in Moidart. Here they received advice that two French privateers were at anchor in Lochnanaugh in Moidart, in one of which, called the Happy, he embarked with 23 gentlemen, and one hundred and seven common men, and soon after arrived safe in France.

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21: Joseph Rawlins, alias Great Joe

A daring and notorious Smuggler, executed at Winchester, October 10, 1748 for burglary.

THIS offence [burglary] is a felony at common law; it is described to be when a person, by night, breaketh into the mansion of another, with an intent to commit a felony; whether the felonious intent be executed or not.

By the 18th. of Elizabeth, cap. 7, the benefit of clergy is taken. away from the offence; and by the 3d and 4th William and Mary, cap. 9, from accessories before the fact. By the 12th of Anne, stat. 1, cap. 7, if any person shall enter into a mansion or dwelling-house by day or by night, without breaking into the same with an intent to commit any felony; or being in such house, shall commit any felony; and shall, in the night-time, break the said house to get out of the same, he is declared guilty of the offence of burglary, and punished accordingly.

It is, without doubt, highly expedient that this offence should be punished more severely than any other species of theft; since, besides the loss of property, there is something very terrific in the mode of perpetration, which is often productive of dreadful effects.

The ancient laws made a marked distinction in the punishment, between this offence, which was called Hamsokne (and which name it retains at present, in the northern part of this kingdom) and robbing a house in the day-time.

It is impossible to reflect upon the outrages and acts of violence continually committed, more particularly in and near the metropolis, by lawless ravagers of property, and destroyers of lives, in disturbing the peaceful mansion, the castle of every Englishman, and also in abridging the liberty of travelling upon the public highways, without asking― Why are these enormities suffered, in a country where the criminal laws are supposed to have arrived at a greater degree of perfection than any other?

This is an important inquiry, interesting, in the highest degree, to every member of the body politic.

If, in pursuing such an inquiry, the situation of Holland, Flanders, and several of the northern states on the continent, be examined, it will be found that this terrific evil had (alluding to these states previous to the present war) there scarcely an existence; and that the precaution of bolting doors and windows during the night was even seldom used; although, in these countries, from the opulence of many of the inhabitants, there were great temptations to plunder property.

This security did not proceed from severer punishments; for in very few countries are they more sanguinary than in England. It is to be attributed to a more correct and energetic system of Police, joined to an early and general attention to the employment, education, and morals, of the lower orders of the people; a habit of industry and sobriety is thus acquired, which, universally imbibed in early life, "grows with their growth, and strengthens with their strength!"

Houses, intended to be entered during the night, are previously reconnoitred and examined for days preceding. If one or more of the servants are not already associated with the gang, the most artful means are used to obtain their assistance; and when every previous arrangement is made, the mere operation of robbing a house becomes a matter of little difficulty.

By the connivance and assistance of immediate, or former servants, they are led to the places where the most valuable, as well as the most portable, articles are deposited, and the object is speedily attained. In this manner do the principal burglars and housebreakers proceed: and let this information serve as a caution to every person in the choice both of their male and female servants; since the latter as well as the former are not seldom accomplices in very atrocious robberies. It frequently happens that the burglars make their contracts with the receivers on the evening before the plunder is obtained; so as to secure a ready admittance immediately afterwards, and before daybreak, for the purpose of effectual concealment by melting plate, obliterating marks, and securing all other articles so as to place them out of the reach of discovery. This has long been reduced to a regular system which is understood and followed as a trade.

Night coaches promote, in an eminent degree, the perpetration of burglaries and other felonies: bribed by a high reward many hackney-coachmen eagerly enter into the pay of nocturnal depredators, and wait in the neighbourhood until the robbery is completed, and then draw up, at the moment the watchmen are going their round; or off their stands, for the purpose of conveying the plunder to the house of the receiver, who is generally waiting the issue of the enterprise. Nearly one-half of the hackney coachmen in London, are said to be, (in the cant phrase) flashmen, designed to assist thieves.

[Note: On the 21st, April, 1747, two smugglers, George Kingman and Barnet Wollit, both outlaws, one of whom murdered a man on. Hurst-Green, were killed in a skirmish with the townsmen of Goodhurst in Kent, who found it necessary to arm against those desperadoes, who rob and plunder wherever they go, and live upon the spoil.

This spirited conduct of the people of this town was highly praiseworthy. They acted under the following order of council:

"In consequence of a report of the Attorney and Solicitor General, wherein they, gave their opinion, that all his Majesty's subjects, civil and military, magistrates, officers, and private persons, have, by law, without any express warrant for that purpose, authority to seize and apprehend any persons assembled, armed, and acting in such manner, as described in the laws against smuggling, and bring them before a magistrate, who may commit them to prison: and in seizing, apprehending, securing, and committing them to prison, may repel force with force, and justify any violence or hostilities which may be necessary to suppress and subdue them, to bring them to justice.

"His Majesty in council is pleased to require and command all officers, both civil and military, to use their utmost force in support of the laws, and suppressing, subduing, and bringing, all such offenders to justice."]

Joseph Rawlins was indicted at the assize held at Winchester, for the year 1748, for burglariously breaking into the dwelling-house of Mr. Wakefield, of Selborne, in the county of Hants, on the 6th of September, 1747, and therefrom stole cash, plate, and other effects, the property of the said Wakefield.

It appeared in evidence, that this fellow, at the head of thirteen more, met on the day of the robbery, at Adverse Heath, in Sussex, whence they proceeded to Woolmer. Forest, where they lay concealed till the evening. Then they mounted their horses, and arrived about eight near Mr. Wakefield's. Jeremiah Curtis, one of the villains, rode up to the house; and pretending he had lost his way; desired to be set right. The men-servants of the house having informed him, he asked for some beer, when an old maid-servant went to draw some; but he found great fault with it, and called for ale. She told him, that her master had the key, and was gone to bed. On this he rode back to his companions, who immediately came up, armed with blunderbusses and pistols; and, pretending to be officers, demanded the master of the house, insisting that he harboured outlawed smugglers. Being answered that he was in bed, they broke open the door, and going up to Mr. Wakefield's room, presented a blunderbuss to his breast, and, with horrid imprecations, demanded where he kept his money. On being told he had no money, they pulled him across the bed; yet still he persisted. They then told him to point out his plate; and, fearing to be murdered, he showed them the chest. This they immediately broke open, and stole thereout a silver tankard, a salt, porrenger; salver, and twelve spoons: from another room, fourteen guineas, a silver watch, and several other things of value. Meanwhile the prisoner at the bar, Rawlins, with another, held the horses of those plundering, fearing to enter, as they were known to the family. Another of the party kept guard over the servants, threatening them with instant death, if they stirred.

Having plundered the house of every portable valuable, they returned to Mr. Wakefield, and with dreadful oaths, demanded two hundred pounds, which they insisted he had just received from Bristol. He protested that he had received none; upon which they dragged him out of bed, and swore they would carry him off, unless he discovered his money; but finding him resolute, they let him go. The next day, the thieves divided their booty, of which the prisoner had his share.

The old servant woman who had kindly given drink to the first villain, swore, that they rifled her pockets of four shillings -- most mean and ungrateful.

The defence set up by this old offender was weak and ignorant; so that the jury, without hesitation, found him guilty; and he was accordingly executed.

We have already observed what a pest to the country were these different gangs of smugglers; for when none of the vessels employed in this illicit trade were in the harbours and creeks, with their contraband cargoes, the villains employed the time in housebreaking, highway and foot robberies; and it was long before they could be extirpated.

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22: George Lancaster

Executed at Tyburn, 16th of November, 1747, for forging a Seaman's Will, in order to rob his Wife and Child

THIS offender was born in Hatton Garden, London, of respectable parents, who placed him with a reputable attorney, with whom he served part of his clerkship in the most regular manner; but, making very bad connections, his master requested his parents to take him home and send him to sea as the most likely means to prevent his ruin.

The parents, approving this hint, persuaded the son to sail as captain's clerk on board a ship in the Royal Navy; and he continued some years in this station.

He came to London when his ship was paid off, and having received a considerable sum of money dissipated the whole in houses of ill-fame. His father was now dead; but his mother, with a fondness very natural, but which perhaps contributed to his ruin, supplied his extravagances till she was very much reduced in her circumstances; and in the meantime the son borrowed money in her name of anyone who would trust him; but at length his character being lost, and his mother totally impoverished, he determined on the commission of the crime for which his life paid the forfeit.

A seaman, named Hugh Price, to whom thirty-six pounds were due for wages, died on board the Dorchester man-of-war, having made a will in favour of his wife and son, who lived near Whitehaven, in Cumberland. Lancaster, hearing of the death of Price, forged a will purporting to be his, and, carrying it to Doctors' Commons, obtained a probate of the will, in consequence of his swearing that he was the son of the above-mentioned Price.

Being thus possessed of the probate, he went to a public-house, producing to the landlord a letter signed George Price, whom he averred was the son of the deceased, and had empowered him to dispose of his father's wages. The landlord, unacquainted with these matters, applied to a gentleman, who told him he might safely purchase if Lancaster could get the original ticket and would lodge the probate in his hands as a collateral security.

The publican mentioning this to Lancaster, the latter said he would procure the original ticket from Portsmouth; but at the expiration of four days he produced a forged ticket, which the landlord, on the advice of a friend, purchased for twenty-seven pounds.

About three months after this transaction, a clerk of the Navy Office called on the publican, and he showed him the ticket. He said he thought it a good one, but he would write to the agent at Portsmouth to inquire into the fact. The agent's answer was that Hugh Price's ticket in favour of his son George was still in the office; so that it was evident that Lancaster's ticket must be a forgery.

The publican then went to an attorney, who advised him to make a debt of the affair, and arrest Lancaster for the money. This being done, he was committed to the Poultry Compter, where he was informed that he should be set at liberty if his friends would make a subscription to raise the sum; but not having friends to assist him in this essential matter, the publican went to the Navy Office, where he informed the commissioners of the affair, and they ordered Lancaster to be prosecuted by their solicitor.

Lancaster's guilt being proved in the clearest manner on his trial, he was convicted, received sentence of death, and was executed at Tyburn, on 16th of November, 1747.

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23: Hosea Youell

Executed at Tyburn, Nov. 16, 1747, for murder.

IT is estimated in another part of our chronology, that there are more Jew thieves in London, on a fair calculation of their numbers, than of the abandoned of all other persuasions. For some years these Levites, formerly kept under a necessary restriction by the Christian laws, presuming upon too ample a toleration, have become the bullies of people of London, The disgraceful practice of pugilism, revived by Mendoza, on their part, has greatly increased their depredations as well as their audacity. The ruffian set of the disciples of Moses, sent into Covent-garden theatre some years since, in order to awe the public to an acquiescence in an imposition of increased prices to that place of public amusement, shews to what a daring pitch they have arrived.

At the sessions held at the Old Bailey in October, 1747, Hosea Youell, and Jacob Lopez, two Jews, were indicted for the murder of Captain Johns, when the former was convicted, and the latter acquitted.

The story of this affair is as follows: Mr. Johns coming up Sandwich-court, Devonshire Square, between ten and eleven o'clock at night, met two men whom he believed to be Jews, who robbed him of his watch and money. Hearing some people coming towards him, he called out, "Stop thief;" on which one of them returned, and gave him a stab in the body, of the depth of nine inches, as appeared by the deposition of the surgeon who attended Captain Johns at the Dolphin inn, Bishopsgate-street, and extracted a piece of the sword from his body.

Youell being taken into custody, Alderman Rawlinson attended the wounded man, who positively charged Youell with being the murderer, and signed his charge, being in his perfect senses, but died within fifteen minutes afterwards.

The wounded man being asked how he could be so  positive to Youell, said, he knew him by the light from a lamp, and that he should know his voice. Youell being bid to turn round, slouch his hat, and speak, hesitated for a while; but at length complying, the captain said, "You are the man that stabbed me, I am positive of the voice."

A piece of a sword was found in the court where the captain was stabbed, which exactly tallied with the piece lodged in the body of the deceased: and it also appeared that Youell had requested the city- marshal to speak to the alderman, that he might be admitted an evidence; and averred, that the murder was not committed by himself, but by one Hart.

After conviction, the prisoner said that he was only eighteen years of age, and born of Jewish parents, who lived in Creed-lane, Leadenhall-street. He was so illiterate that he could neither read Hebrew nor English. The ordinary of Newgate representing to him the advantages of the Gospel over the Mosaic dispensation, he said, that as he was born and bred a Jew, he would die such.

He was attended by a rabbi, and at the place of execution steadfastly denied having been guilty of the murder. However, he earnestly advised young people to be cautious in the choice of their company, as it was by a neglect of that caution that he had come to a fatal end.

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24: Henry Simms

The Extraordinary Career of a Youth, who was executed at Tyburn, 16th of November, 1747, after returning from Transportation, for Highway Robbery

HENRY SIMMS was born in the parish of St Martin's-in-the-Fields, London, and was soon a helpless orphan. His grandmother, who was a Dissenter, sent him first to a school kept by a clergyman, but as he frequently ran away she placed him at an academy in St James's parish, where he became proficient in writing and arithmetic, and was likewise a tolerable Latin and French scholar.

Before the boy had completed his tenth year he gave a specimen of his dishonest disposition. His grandmother taking him with her on a visit to a tradesman's house, he stole twenty shillings from the till in the shop, which being observed by the maid- servant, she informed her master; and, the money being found on the youth, he was severely punished. He now began to lie from home at nights, and associated with the vilest of company, in the purlieus of St Giles's. His companions advising him to rob his grandmother, he stole seventeen pounds from her and, taking his best apparel, repaired to St Giles's, where his new acquaintances made him drunk, put him to bed, and then robbed him of his money and clothes. On his waking he covered himself with some rags he found in the room and, after strolling through the streets in search of the villains, went into an ale-house, the landlord of which, hearing his tale, interceded with his grandmother to take him again under her protection. To this, after some hesitation, she consented; and, buying a chain with a padlock, she had him fastened, during the daytime, to the kitchen grate, and at night he slept with a man who was directed to take care that he did not escape.

After a month of confinement he had his liberty granted him and new clothes purchased, with which he immediately went among some young thieves who were tossing up for money, in St Giles's. On the approach of night they took him to a brick-kiln near Tottenham Court Road, where they broiled some steaks, and supped in concert; and were soon joined by some women, who brought some geneva, with which the whole company regaled themselves.

Simms, falling asleep, was robbed of his clothes; and when the brickmakers came to work in the morning they found him in his shirt only. While they were conducting him towards town he was met by his grandmother's servant, who was in search of him, and conveyed him to her house. Notwithstanding his former behaviour the old lady received him kindly, and placed him with a breeches-maker. He having corrected him for his ill behaviour, he ran away, and taking his best clothes from his grandmother's house, in her absence, sold them to a Jew, and spent the money in extravagance.

The old gentlewoman now went to live at the house of Lady Stanhope, whither the graceless boy followed her, and being refused admittance he broke several of the windows. This in some measure compelled his grandmother to admit him; but that very night he robbed the house of as many things as produced him nine pounds, which he carried to a barn in Marylebone Fields, and spent among his dissolute companions. For this offence he was apprehended, and, after some hesitation, confessed where he had sold the effects. From this time his grandmother gave him up as incorrigible. Soon afterwards he was apprehended as a pickpocket, but he was discharged for want of evidence.

Simms now associated with the worst of company; but after a narrow escape on a charge of being concerned in sending a threatening letter to extort money, and two of his companions being transported for other offences, he seemed deterred from continuing his evil courses; and thereupon wrote to his grandmother, entreating her further protection. Still anxious to save him from destruction, she prevailed on a friend to take him into his house, where for some time he behaved regularly; but, getting among his old associates, they robbed a gentleman of his watch and money, and threw him into a ditch in Marylebone Fields; when only some persons accidentally coming up prevented his destruction.

Two more of Simms' companions being now transported, he hired himself to an innkeeper as a driver of a post-chaise; and after that lived as postilion to a nobleman, but was soon discharged on account of his irregular conduct. Having received some wages, he went again among the thieves, who dignified him with the title of "Gentleman Harry," on account of his presumed skill, and the gentility of his appearance. Simms now became intimately acquainted with a woman who lived with one of his accomplices, in revenge for which the fellow procured both him and the woman to be taken into custody on a charge of felony, and they were committed to Newgate; but, the Court paying no regard to the credibility of the witnesses, the prisoners were acquitted.

Soon after his discharge Simms robbed a gentleman of his watch and seventeen pounds on Blackheath, and likewise robbed a lady of a considerable sum near the same spot. Being followed to Lewisham, he was obliged to quit his horse, when he presented two pistols to his pursuers, by which he so intimidated them as to effect his escape, though with the loss of his horse.

Repairing to London he bought another horse, and travelling into Northamptonshire, and putting up at an inn at Towcester, learned that a military gentleman had hired a chaise for London; on which he followed the chaise the next morning, and kept up with it for several miles. At length the gentleman, observing him, said: "Don't ride so hard, Sir, you'll soon ride away your whole estate"; to which Simms replied: "Indeed I shall not, for it lies in several counties"; and, instantly quitting his horse, he robbed the gentleman of one hundred and two guineas.

He now hastened to London, and, having dissipated his ill-acquired money at a gaming-table, rode out towards Hounslow, and meeting the postilion who had driven the above-mentioned gentleman in Northamptonshire gave him five shillings, begging he would take no notice of having seen him. A reward being at length offered for apprehending Simms, he entered on board a privateer; but being soon weary of a seafaring life he deserted, and enlisted for a soldier. While in this station he knocked out the eye of a woman at a house of ill-fame, for which he was apprehended and lodged in New Prison. Soon after this, Justice de Veil admitted him an evidence against some felons, his accomplices, who were transported, and Simms regained his liberty.

Being apprehended for robbing a baker's shop, he was convicted, and being sentenced to be transported was, accordingly, shipped on board one of the transport vessels. As this sailed round to the Isle of Wight he formed a plan for seizing the captain, and effecting an escape; but as a strict watch was kept on him it was not possible for him to carry this plan into execution. The ship arriving at Maryland, Simms was sold, for twelve guineas, but he found an early opportunity of deserting from the purchaser. Having learned that his master's horse was left tied to a gate at some distance from the dwelling-house, he privately decamped in the night, and rode thirty miles in four hours, through extremely bad roads: so powerfully was he impelled by his fears.

He now found himself by the seaside, and, turning the horse loose, he hailed a vessel just under sail, from which a boat was sent to bring him on board. As hands were very scarce, the captain offered him six guineas, which were readily accepted, to work his passage to England. There being at this time a war between England and France, the ship was taken by a French privateer, but soon afterwards ransomed; and Simms entered on board a man-of-war, where his diligence promoted him to the rank of a midshipman. But the ship had no sooner arrived at Plymouth than he quitted his duty and, travelling to Bristol, spent the little money he possessed in the most dissipated manner.

His next step was to enter himself on board a coasting vessel at Bristol, but he had not been long at sea before, on a dispute with the captain, he threatened to throw him overboard, and would have carried his threat into execution if the other seamen had not prevented him. Simms asked for his wages when the ship returned to port; but on the captain threatening imprisonment for his ill behaviour at sea he decamped, with only eight shillings in his possession.

Fertile of contrivances, he borrowed a bridle and saddle, and having stolen a horse, in a field near the city, he went once more on the highway, and taking the road to London robbed the passengers in the Bristol coach, those in another carriage, and a single lady and gentleman, and repaired to London with the booty he had acquired.

Having put up the stolen horse at an inn in Whitechapel, and soon afterwards seeing it advertised, he was afraid to fetch it: on which he stole another horse; but as he was riding through Tyburn Turnpike, the keeper, knowing the horse, brought the rider to the ground. Hereupon Simms presented a pistol, and threatened the man with instant death if he presumed to detain him. By this daring mode of proceeding he obtained his liberty, and, having made a tour round the fields, he entered London by another road. On the following day he went to Kingston-upon-Thames, he stole a horse, and then robbed several people on his return to London; and the day afterwards robbed seven farmers of eighteen pounds. His next depredations were in Epping Forest, where he committed five robberies in one day, but soon spent what he thus gained among women of ill-fame. Thinking it unsafe to remain longer in London, he set out with a view of going to Ireland; but had ridden only to Barnet when he crossed the country to Harrow-on-the-Hill, where he robbed a gentleman, named Sleep, of his money and watch, and would have taken his wig, but the other said it was of no value, and he hoped, as it was cold weather, his health might not be endangered by being deprived of it. The robber threatened MrSleep's life unless he would swear never to take any notice of the affair; but this the gentleman absolutely refused. Hereupon Simms said that if he had not robbed him, two other persons would; and told him to say "Thomas" if he should meet any people on horseback.

Soon after this, Mr Sleep, meeting two men whom he presumed to be accomplices of the highwayman, cried out "Thomas!" -- but the travellers paying no regard to him he was confirmed in his suspicions, and rode after them; and on his arrival at Hoddesdon Green he found several other persons, all of them in pursuit of the highwayman.

In the meantime Simms rode forward, and robbed the St Albans stage; after which he went as far as Hockliffe; but, being now greatly fatigued, he fell asleep in the kitchen of an inn, whither he was pursued by some light horsemen from St Albans, who took him into custody. Being confined for that night, he was carried in the morning before a magistrate, who committed him to Bedford Jail. By an unaccountable neglect his pistol had not been taken from him, and on his way to prison he attempted to shoot one of his guards; but the pistol missing fire, his hands were tied behind him; and when he arrived at the prison he was fastened to the floor, with an iron collar round his neck. Being removed to London, by a writ of habeas corpus, he was lodged in Newgate, where he was visited, from motives of curiosity, by numbers of people, whom he amused with a narrative of his having been employed to shoot the King.

On this he was examined before the Duke of Newcastle, then Secretary of State; but, his whole story bearing evident marks of a fiction, he was remanded to Newgate, to take his trial at the ensuing Old Bailey sessions. Ten indictments were preferred against him; but, being convicted for the robbery of Mr Sleep, it was not thought necessary to arraign him on any other of the indictments.

After conviction he behaved with great unconcern, and in some instances with insolence. Having given a fellow prisoner a violent blow, he was chained to the floor. He appeared shocked when the warrant for his execution arrived; but soon resumed his former indifference, and continued it even to the moment of execution, when he behaved in the most thoughtless manner.

He was hanged at Tyburn, on the 16th of November, 1747.

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25: Serjeant Smith

An English Deserter to the French, shot in the Park on the 11th day of December, 1747.

WE should not have accorded to the case of this ungrateful traitor a separate memoir, were it not to hand down his crime to posterity, as an example to the army, and a caution against desertion.

Courts-martial are composed of a certain number of officers, according to the magnitude of the charge against the prisoner, of which one is the president, and another judge-advocate. A regimental court-martial is appointed by the commander of each troop or regiment for the trial of offences which are not deemed sufficiently heinous to be carried to a general court-martial. Regimental courts-martial are often assembled, sometimes in a few minutes, at the drum-head, and consist of a captain, the president, and four subaltern officers, members. They are not sworn, but give sentence and judgment like the Lords, sitting on the trial of a peer, on a charge affecting his life -- "Upon their honours." This may be termed the internal or domestic management of a regiment, trying offences by a court of its own officers; but where a charge is of a serious nature, as mutiny, desertion, or treason, then application is made to the commander-in-chief for a general court-martial. It is composed of veteran officers, the oldest being the president, and the advocate-general, or his deputy, attending. This office partakes of both civil and military functions. He regulates the evidence, propounds questions, as well for the prosecutor as the accused, takes minutes of the trial, and sums up the evidence in the manner of a civil judge, on the trial of a criminal, for the determination of the court. This done, the court is cleared of all strangers, and the members alone debate on the nature of the crime, and offer their respective opinions, beginning with the youngest, who being called upon by the president, pronounces "Guilty," or "N ot Guilty," as he feels the case. The next is then called upon, and a, majority of voices forms the sentence; the president, on an equal number for and against the prisoner, has the casting vote., When found guilty, in like manner they determine upon the punishment, whether death or corporeal punishment. The sentence is then sent to the King for approbation, and when confirmed, the punishment is inflicted.

On the 26th of November, 1747, a court-martial assembled at Whitehall, of which Marshal Wade was president, for the purpose of trying Serjeant Smith who had been lately brought from Scotland, charged with deserting into the service of the French, and afterwards to that of the rebels, and having heard the evidence for and against the prisoner, he was found guilty.

On the 11th of December he was conducted from the Savoy prison to the parade in St. James's Park, where he was met by a detachment of the foot-guards, commanded by Colonel Drury, to Hyde Park. The unhappy man was attended by the minister of the Savoy, and having arrived at a gibbet, under which was a new-made grave, to receive his body; to which dreadful preparation he seemed little moved: indeed, there was an apparent unconcern in the whole of his behaviour.

This was a man of extraordinary abilities, and as vicious in his principles. He had served several of the Princes in the then late wars in Germany, and abused them all by desertion. He was master of several languages, and from this acquirement he acted as interpreter to our officers, who were so partial to him, that they appointed him a paymaster-serjeant, and in fact treated him as their companion. His income could not have been less than £200. a year. A man thus caressed must be truly a villain who could be base enough to desert his duty; but Smith was of a roving turn, and could not keep long in a place,. the excuse he gave for his crimes. He died undaunted, and declared himself a protestant. Reports had been circulated, owing probably to the fluency with which he spoke French, that he was a papist. He was immediately buried under the gibbet, which was erected on the bank of the Serpentine river.

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26: John Parkes

Executed at Tyburn, March 14, 1748, for forging an order on a silversmith, for unwrought silver. (A singular Case.)

THIS malefactor was a native of Wrexham in Denbighshire, and having been liberally educated, was apprenticed to a silversmith, with whom he served his time with a fair character, and then came to settle in London. After a residence of more than twenty years, during which he worked as a journeyman, he became distressed in circumstances, which induced him to think of having recourse to the following method of supplying his necessities.

Having drawn a bill on Mr. Scott, a refiner in Love-lane, in the name of Mr. Brown, of Lombard-street, for one hundred ounces of silver, he carried it to the house of the former, who not being at home, an apprentice read the draft, and asked if Parkes was a silversmith, and for whom he worked. He told him for Mr. Robinson in Bond-street. The apprentice said, he was well acquainted with Mr. Robinson; but not knowing that his master dealt with Mr. Brown, begged that the bearer would call for an answer in the morning.

Parkes now went home to bed, but reflecting that he could imitate Robinson's hand-writing, with which he was perfectly acquainted, he wrote a letter in his name to Mr. Scott, informing him that he would be answerable for Brown's credit, if any doubt was entertained of it; and begging that no disappointment might happen.

Parkes had some idea of carrying this letter himself; but reflecting on the danger that might attend such a proceeding, he went into a public-house, near Cripplegate, and calling for a pint of beer, sent a porter with the letter, telling him to inform Mr. Scott, that he came from Mr. Robinson, of Bond-street; and to add, that the person who had been there the preceding day was taken ill. The porter was no sooner gone, than Parkes paid, for his beer and told the woman of the house, that if the porter brought any thing, he was to leave it at the bar.

This being done he followed the porter, and observing him go into Mr. Scott's, he stopped in a dark passage till he saw him come out, and when he, was at a small distance from the house he followed him, and receiving the bag of silver, paid him for the porterage, and decamped with all expedition. He carried his ill-gotten booty to the house of an acquaintance near the Seven Dials, where he melted part of the silver, and spent the produce in the most extravagant manner.

Being reduced to poverty, he melted the remainder of the silver, and mixing it with some copper; he offered it for sale to a refiner; who threatened to apprehend him for presenting adulterated silver; but the offender pretending that he had no intention of fraud, the refiner paid him the amount of the silver.

Having thus escaped punishment for the first offence, he committed several other crimes of a similar nature, and at length that which cost him his life. Having forged a note in the name of Mr. Lamery, he carried it to a refiner in Oat-lane, named Froxhall, desiring that 200 ounces of silver might be delivered to the bearer. This note he delivered to Froxhall's apprentice, who carried it up stairs to his master, but first fastened the door, that Parkes might not escape. The, boy coming down soon, desired Parkes to sit down, and his master would wait on him.. He did so; and Mr. Froxhall coming down, asked, who wanted the silver. Parkes said, he did; on which he was desired to wait, and he should have it; but in the mean time the apprentice was sent for a constable, who conducted Parkes before the Lord Mayor, who committed him to Newgate.

Being indicted at the next sessions at the Old Bailey, he was capitally convicted, and sentenced to die. After conviction, he exhibited signs of the utmost penitence, and sincerely lamented the past irregularities of his life. He behaved devoutly at the place of execution, and warned others to avoid those practices which brought him to a fatal end.

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27: William Whurrier

Executed at Tyburn for murder, March 7, 1748, and his body hung in chains on Finchley common. (A Hard Case.)

WE cannot so clearly see by the report of this trial, as the jury might have done by the evidence adduced, the malice propense necessary to constitute the conviction of murder. But, though we are by no means disposed to question a verdict of the country, yet we cannot avoid saying, that the case added to the services which the unfortunate man had rendered the king, should have proved a strong recommendation to royal mercy.

This soldier was a native of Morpeth, in Northumberland, and brought up as a husbandman; but having inlisted in general Cope's regiment, he served five years and a half in Flanders; when, some horses being wanted for the use of the army, he and another man were sent to England to purchase them.

On the 11th of February, 1748, as Whurrier and his companion were walking over Finchley Common towards Barnet, the latter, being wearied, agreed with a post-boy, who went by with a led horse, to, permit him to ride to Barnet, leaving Whurrier at an alehouse on the road. Whurrier having drank freely; met with a woman who appeared to be his country-woman, and with her he continued drinking till both of them were intoxicated, when they proceeded together towards Barnet; but they were followed by some sailors, one of whom insulted Whurrier, telling him that he had no business with the woman.

Whurrier suspecting there was a design to injure him, asked the woman if she had any connection with those men. She said she had not: but in the meantime the other Sailors coming up, said they came to rescue the woman; on which Whurrier drew his sword; but returned it into the scabbard without annoying any one.

A soldier riding by at this instant, Whurrier told him that the sailors had ill-treated him, and begged his assistance, on which the soldier getting off his horse, the sailors ran away, and Whurrier pursuing them, overtook the first that had assaulted him, and drawing his sword, cut him in such a manner that he was carried in a hopeless condition to a house in the neighbourhood, where he languished till the Sunday following, and then died.

It appeared by the testimony of a surgeon that the deceased had received a cut across the skull, as if done with a butcher's chopper; so that the brains, lay open; besides a variety of other wounds..

Whurrier being taken into custody for the commission of this murder, was brought to trial at the next sessions at the Old Bailey and being capitally convicted on the clearest, evidence, was sentenced to die.

After conviction he said he thought there was a combination between the woman he had met with and the sailors; and a day or two before he suffered, he procured the following paper to be published, which he called, "Whurrier's Declaration."

"This is to let the world know that I have lived in good credit, and have served his Majesty eight years and two months. In the time of my service, I have stood six campaigns, and always obeyed all lawful commands: I have been in three battles, and at Bergen-op-zoom, during the time it was besieged. The first battle was at Dettingen, June, 1743, when his Majesty headed his army: the second was in the year 1745, April 30, at Fontenoy; the third was at Luckland, by siege; besides several skirmishes, and other great dangers. I had. rather it had been my fate to have died in the. field of battle, where I have seen many thousand wallowing in their blood, than to come to such disgrace: but, alas! I have escaped all these dangers to come to this unhappy fate, to suffer at Tyburn, and afterwards to hang in chains on a gibbet, which last is the nearest concern to me; and I cannot help expressing, that it would be more beneficial to the public to employ blacksmiths to make breast-plates for the soldiers, than irons to inclose their bodies to be exposed to the fowls of the air.

"I have been a true subject and faithful servant, as is well known to the officers of the regiment to which I belonged. If I had been a pick-pocket, or a thief, I should have suffered much more deservedly, in my own opinion, than I now do; for what I did was in my own defence: I was upon the king's duty, and was assaulted by the men in sailors' habits, who gave me so many hard blows, as well as so much bad language, that I could no longer bear it, and was obliged to draw my sword in my own defence; and being in too great a passion, as well as too much in liquor, I own I struck without mercy; as thinking my life in danger, surrounded by four men, who I thought designed to murder me; who, or what they were the Lord knows; it is plain they had a false pass, as it was proved: and that they had travelled but seven miles in nine days; but I forgive them, as I hope forgiveness: and the Lord have mercy on My soul, and the poor man's whom I killed.

W. Whurrier."

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28: William York

"The Boy Murderer," convicted of the Murder of another Child in the Poorhouse of Eyke, in Suffolk, May, 1748

THIS sinner was but just turned ten years of age when he committed the dreadful crime. He was a pauper in the poorhouse belonging to the parish of Eyke, in Suffolk, and was committed, on the coroner's inquest, to Ipswich Jail for the murder of Susan Mahew, another child, of five years of age, who had been his bedfellow. The following is his confession, taken and attested by a Justice of the Peace, and which was, in part, proved on his trial, with many corroborating circumstances of his guilt.

He said that a trifling quarrel happening between them, on the 13th of May, 1748, about ten in the morning, he struck her with his open hand, and made her cry. That she going out of the house to the dunghill, opposite to the door, he followed her with a hook in his hand, with an intent to kill her; but before he came up to her he set down the hook, and went into the house for a knife; he then came out again, took hold of the girl's left hand, and cut her wrist all round and to the bone, with his knife, and then threw her down,  and cut her to the bone just above the elbow of the same arm. That after this he set his foot upon her stomach, and cut her right arm round about, and to the bone, both on the wrist and above the elbow. That he then thought she would not die, and therefore took the hook and cut her left thigh to the bone; and, observing she was not dead yet, his next care was to conceal the murder. For this purpose he filled a pail with water at a ditch, and washed the blood off the child's body, buried it in the dunghill, together with the blood that was spilt upon the ground, and made the dunghill as smooth as he could; afterwards he washed the knife and hook, and carried them into the house, washed the blood off his own clothes, hid the child's clothes in an old chamber, and then came down and got his breakfast.

This "boy murderer" was found guilty, and sentence of death pronounced against him; but he was respited from time to time, and on account of his tender years, was at length pardoned.

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29: George Cock

A most Plausible Scoundrel, executed at Tyburn, 13th of June, 1748, for privately stealing

THIS artful rogue was born in the neighbourhood of Aldgate, and for seven or eight years lived as errand-boy and porter to several tradesmen, none of whom had reason to suspect that he purloined their property; but he was held by them in no esteem, on account of his being frequently intoxicated and associating with people of dissolute principles.

Having made pretensions of love to a maid-servant in the neighbourhood of Mayfair, she invited him to her master's house. He was punctual to the appointment, and during his stay treacherously stole a silver spoon of about twelve shillings' value.

Learning that a lady lived at Streatham whose son was abroad, he went to her house and informed her that he was lately arrived in England, and waited upon her by the desire of the young gentleman, to assure her of the continuance of his filial affection. He was invited to partake of the best provisions the house could afford, and entertained with great liberality, kindness and respect. After he had sufficiently refreshed himself, and secreted a large silver spoon in his pocket, he departed.

Upon gaining information that the father of a young gentleman of Bartholomew Lane was abroad, he went to the house and pretended to the youth that he was preparing to embark for the country in which his father resided; saying that, as he was acquainted with the old gentleman, he should be happy to deliver any message or letter, or execute any commission with which the son might think proper to charge him. His reception here was not less hospitable than that he experienced at Streatham, and he did not take leave till he had conveyed a silver cup into his pocket, with which he got off undiscovered. He sold the cup, and expended the money it produced in the most extravagant manner.

Cock went to the house of the captain of a trading vessel in Ratcliff Highway, whom he knew was at sea, expecting that he should be able to amuse his wife by some plausible pretences, and to obtain a booty before he left the house. He was informed that the captain's lady was not at home; but was invited into the house by her mother, who told him that she expected her daughter's return in a very short time. Being shown into the kitchen, he asked the maid-servant for some table-beer, and while she was gone to draw it he secreted a large silver tankard. Upon the maid's bringing the beer he drank heartily, and then, pretending that he had some business to transact which would not permit him to stay any longer, took leave, promising to return on the following day. He sold the tankard to a Jew.

He inquired of a servant-maid in Spitalfields whether there were not some women in that neighbourhood whose husbands were in foreign parts. The girl said the husbands of two or three of her master's neighbours were abroad, and asked the name of the person he desired to find. He said he had forgotten the name, but artfully added that he should remember it upon hearing it repeated; in consequence of which she mentioned some names, and upon his saying that one of them was that of the party he wanted the girl directed him to the house where the wife of his supposed friend resided. He told the woman that he was lately arrived in England, and by her husband's particular desire called to inform her of his being in perfect health when he embarked. He formed some trifling excuse for occasioning the woman to leave the apartment, and soon after her return he went away, taking with him a pint silver tankard and two silver tablespoons.

By the above, and other villainies of a similar nature, he gained a maintenance for several years; but it will now appear that, notwithstanding the art he employed in the pursuit of villainy, he at length fell a just victim to the insulted laws of his country.

Cock went to two ladies in Soho Square in one day, under the pretext of delivering messages from their husbands, who had been several years resident in foreign parts, and was received by them in the most kind and hospitable manner. He had been gone but a short time when one of the ladies missed some silver spoons; in consequence of which he was pursued and taken before a magistrate, and during his examination the other appeared, and on oath identified a silver tankard found in the prisoner's possession. He was committed to Newgate, and at the ensuing sessions at the Old Bailey condemned to suffer death.

During his confinement in Newgate he showed not the least remorse for his past offences, nor employed any part of the short time he had to exist in making the necessary preparation for the awful change he was about to experience; but flattered himself in the expectation of being reprieved. However, after learning that he was ordered for execution, he in some degree corrected the irregularity of his behaviour; but still his conduct was by no means such as might have been expected from a man in his dreadful situation.

He was almost wholly regardless of the devotional exercises at the place of execution, and refused to address the populace, though urged to it by the ordinary.

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30: Thomas Thompson

Executed at Tyburn, Oct. 24, 1748, for horse-stealing.

THE parents of this offender lived at Otley in Yorkshire: his father dying, his mother and a numerous family were left in very indigent circumstances. Thomas being arrived at a proper age, the parish-officers proposed binding him apprentice; but he declined the offer, saying he should prefer going to sea with a captain who was come into the country, to visit his mother and other relations. He accompanied the captain to Durham; and the master of the post-house in that city, thinking him an active and promising youth, hired him to wait upon his customers three days in a week, and to ride post on the others. During the three years that he remained in this station, he was guilty of stealing money out of letters, and of several other acts, of delinquency, of which, however, he was not suspected until some time after he had quitted his master's service.

From Durham he went, to Otley, but not being able to procure employment there, he proceeded to Rippon, where he was engaged as a waiter at the sign of the King's Head. In about three months; he robbed his master of thirteen pounds, and absconded. Going again to the place of his nativity, he learnt that an aunt lately deceased had bequeathed  him twelve pounds and having received the legacy, and purchased some new apparel, set out for London, where in a short. time he spent all his money in disorderly houses, among women of ill fame. Being in circumstances of distress, he, made application for relief to a relation, who behaved to him with great tenderness and generosity: notwithstanding which he availed himself of an opportunity of robbing his benefactor of two silver spoons.

He offered the. spoons for sale to a silversmith near Charing-cross; but his honesty being suspected, a messenger was dispatched to inquire whether he lived at the place he had mentioned to the shop- keeper. Before the messenger's return Thompson effected his escaped ; and it appeared that he had given a false direction. In a few days he was met near Exeter-change by the silversmith, who insisted upon his going home with him; but being a man of an easy disposition, he was prevailed upon by the entreaties of the young villain to favour his escape.

He now returned to Otley, and a dancing meeting being held there one evening; he made one of the company: at this place he prevailed upon a young woman, to consent to his partaking to her bed; but she dismissed him upon discovering that he was destitute of money. Thus disappointed, he returned to the house where he lodged, and broke open a box, whence he stole fifteen shillings.

Early the next morning he stole a horse, and rode his late master's at Durham, where he said he was employed to go to Newcastle on some business of importance, and should return on the following day. The inn-keeper believed his tale, and upon his repeating his visit the next day, gave him a hearty welcome, and expressed much pleasure at the seemingly favourable change in his situation. In the morning, however, the boy who had been with the mail to Darlington, informed Thompson that the hue-and-cry was after him on suspicion of horse-stealing. In consequence of this intelligence he took the road for Scotland, and selling the stolen horse at Berwick-upon-Tweed, proceeded on foot to Cockburn, and hiring a horse there, rode to Dunbar where having slept one night, he se out for Edinburgh in a post-chaise.

At Edinburgh he pretended to be servant to a military officer, and persuaded a young woman, who was servant at the inn where he lodged, to admit him to a share of her bed. In the morning she discovered that her box had been broken open, and her money, besides two gold rings bequeathed her by a relation; stolen thereout. She accused Thompson of the robbery, and threatened a prosecution; but was appeased upon his restoring the effects.

His next expedition was to Perth, where he engaged himself as a servant to a military officer, His master being ordered into Yorkshire upon the recruiting service, Thompson accompanied him: but thinking it unsafe to remain in a part of the country where he was well known, he stole a horse about eleven o'clock at night, and took the road to Nottingham. For this offence he was tried at the next assizes, and sentenced to die; but interest being made in his favour, he received a pardon on condition of transportation for fourteen years.

As he behaved in a remarkably decent and regular manner, the keeper of the prison granted him many indulgences, which he determined to seize an opportunity of making use of to his own advantage; and accordingly observing that on some occasion the maid-servant was intrusted with the keys, he seized her by surprise, and taking them from her recovered his liberty,

Upon his escape from prison he proceeded to London, where be inlisted into a regiment then abroad, and was conducted to the Savoy: but being soon after attacked by a fever, he was sent to an hospital. Being tolerably recovered in about two months, he deserted, and going to Rochester inlisted into a regiment lying in that city. About five weeks after his arrival in Rochester, he robbed the waiter of the house where he was quartered, and again deserting travelled to Hatfield in Hertfordshire, where he inlisted into a regiment, from which he also deserted in about six weeks. He now went to Chichester, and having there entered into his majesty's service as a marine, was ordered on board a ship, lying at Portsmouth. In about two months he was ordered on shore, and quartered in Chichester, where he robbed his lodgings, and having stolen a mare belonging to a farmer rode towards the metropolis.

The farmer having a value for the beast hastened to London, expecting that she would be exposed for sale in Smithfield. He put up at the White Bear in Basinghall-street, and there found both his mare and the man who had stolen her. Thompson being taken before the Lord Mayor, was committed for trial at the Old Bailey, where he was convicted, and sentenced to die.

When he was confined in the cells of Newgate, he appeared to be struck with a consciousness of the enormity of his guilt. He constantly attended divine service in the chapel; and when visited by the ordinary behaved in a manner that evinced the sincerity of his repentance.

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31: John Whitmore and Jeremiah Dawes

Of the University of Oxford. Convicted and punished for Sedition, 28th of November, 1748

SOON after the Rebellion was crushed, great discontent was discovered in several private meetings, which, being of little import to the commonweal, was passed over, under the hopes that time would reconcile jarring opinions to the family on the throne. But it was little expected that the smallest spark of sedition should be fanned into a flame among students at a university, among men half grown in body and still weaker in mind.

That such was actually the case we shall show; and to this end give verbatim the proclamation of the Vice-Chancellor of Oxford. At a meeting of the Vice-Chancellor, Heads of Houses, and Proctors of the University of Oxford, on Monday, 11th of April, 1748: --

"Whereas there have been lately some very tumultuous disturbances and outrages committed in the public streets of Oxford, by young scholars of the University, particularly on the 23rd of February last past, amounting to a notorious insult on his Majesty's crown and government, and in utter contempt of the wholesome laws and discipline of this University and the Governors thereof; we, the Vice-Chancellor, Heads of Houses, and Proctors, this day assembled, think it incumbent on us to make this public declaration of our sincere abhorrence and detestation of such factions and seditious practices, as also of our firm resolution to punish all offenders (of what state or quality soever they are) who shall be duly convicted thereof, according to the uttermost severity and rigour of our statutes.

"And whereas many of the disorders complained of have been chiefly and immediately owing to scholars having private entertainments and company at their chambers, which are generally attended with great intemperance and excess, and always with expense, that are both needless and hurtful: we therefore earnestly recommend it to all bursars, deans, censors and tutors to prevent, as much as in their power, this unstatutable and mischievous practice, and to oblige all persons to attend in the common hall at the usual hours of dinner and supper.

"And as these irregularities are too frequently practised (as we have reason to believe) at coffee-houses, cook-shops and victualling-houses, all proctors and magistrates of the University are strictly required to be vigilant and careful in visiting all such public-houses and places of entertainment and idleness, and in duly punishing all young scholars whom they shall at any time find at such places; and likewise laying a mulct on the masters or mistresses of such houses for receiving and entertaining such scholars, contrary to the known rules, orders and statutes of the University. Given under our hand the day and year above mentioned.

J. PURNELL,

Vice-Chancellor.

In consequence of this proclamation several of these beardless striplings of sedition were apprehended, and removed to the Court of King's Bench at Westminster, to take their trial before a jury of their country, and John Whitmore and Jeremiah Dawes were found guilty. Charles Luxmore, after a trial of eight hours, was acquitted.

On Monday, 28th of November, 1748, these two scholars were brought up to the bar of the Court of King's Bench to receive sentence, which was, "To be fined five nobles each, to suffer two years' imprisonment in the King's Bench Prison, and to find two sureties for their good behaviour for seven years, themselves to be bound in five hundred pounds and their securities in two hundred and fifty pounds each; and that they immediately walk round Westminster Hall, with a label affixed to their foreheads, denoting their crime and sentence, and to ask pardon of the several Courts."

They accordingly were each labelled on the forehead and led round the Hall, stopping at each Court to solicit pardon, and then sent to prison.

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32: The Thief, the Priests, and the Great King of Prussia

An Anecdotal Fact, and a touch at Superstition.

TO THIS MONARCH have many good sayings been ascribed; for many noble and generous deeds has he been accredited; and more is yet due to his memory than comes to the share of conscience in a whole batch of Buonaparte's kings.

A Prussian soldier on duty, in a small garrison town in Silesia, being suspected of making free with some offerings made by pious Catholics to the Blessed Virgin, was watched and detected, and two silver hearts were found upon him, for which. he was sentenced to die. The man pleaded innocence, and insisted that the Virgin, in pity to his poverty, had appeared to him, and ordered him to take the two pieces. And on this plea he appealed to the King, who, on the soldier's representation, consulted with the ablest of the Roman Catholic divines, if they thought such a miracle impossible, who unanimously declared, that the case was extraordinary, but not impossible.

On which his Majesty wrote, with his own hand, words to, the following effect.:

"The convict cannot justly be put to death, because he owes the present of the two pieces of silver to the bounty of the Blessed Virgin; and the divines of his religion are unanimously of opinion, that the miracle wrought in his favour is not impossible; but have strictly forbid him to receive any more such presents from any saint whatever."

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33: John Young

Executed for Forgery, at Edinburgh, 19th December, 1748

THE subject of this narrative was born of a Protestant family at Belfast, in Ireland, and received a liberal education. At the usual time of life he was apprenticed to a linen-draper residing in the town where he was born. Having served about three years, his master died; and, as the widow declined business, he engaged as clerk to a wholesale dealer, whose goods were principally sent to the London market and Chester fair.

He remained with his employer till his arrival at manhood; but at length absconded, in consequence of one of his master's servant-maids proving with child by him. He intended to settle in Dublin; but in his way to that city he met with a recruiting party belonging to the fourth regiment of foot, who urged him to drink till he became intoxicated, and then prevailed upon him to enlist.

Young, being handsome in person and accomplished in manners, was soon distinguished by his officers, who, on the first vacancy, promoted him to be a sergeant.

He marched from Tournay to join the regiment at Ghent, in Flanders, and arrived but a few days preceding that on which was fought the terrible battle of Fontenoy. His behaviour in that action was greatly commended by his officers, who, upon the return of the regiment to Ghent, conferred upon him many instances of particular respect, and appointed him paymaster to the company to which he belonged.

The regiment in which Young was a sergeant was one of those ordered into Scotland for the purpose of suppressing the rebellion, which broke out soon after the battle of Fontenoy; but, as a considerable loss of private men had been sustained, he was ordered to go upon the recruiting service to Chester, Manchester, Liverpool, and other places.

The recruits engaged by Young were paid the bounty-money without the least deduction, and he would not encourage them to spend any part of it in an extravagant or useless manner. In the space of four months he raised a hundred and fifty men; and it is presumed that the strict integrity of his conduct greatly promoted his success. Upon joining his regiment in Scotland, his officers advanced him to the post of sergeant-major, as a reward for his services. At the battle of Falkirk he put several of the rebels to death with his halbert, and behaved in other respects with remarkable intrepidity.

Upon the command of the army being assumed by the Duke of Cumberland, the regiment to which Young belonged was ordered to march to the north. On account of the singular bravery they displayed at the battle of Culloden, and the great slaughter of men, this regiment was not ordered to return to Flanders, but permitted to remain in Scotland.

Upon tranquillity being re-established in the Highlands, the fourth regiment was appointed to perform duty in Edinburgh Castle, and Young was dispatched to Bristol upon a recruiting expedition. He enlisted a considerable number of men at Bristol, and, on his return to Scotland, his officers complimented him with a handsome present.

He was now sent to raise recruits in Yorkshire; and, while at Sheffield, in that county, he engaged in a criminal intercourse with the wife of an innkeeper, who, when he was preparing to depart, secreted property to a considerable amount, and followed her lover to Scotland. In a short time the innkeeper came to Edinburgh in search of his wife, and complained in passionate terms of the cruel and treacherous treatment he had received. The nature of his connexion with the woman being made public, Young appeared to be greatly disconcerted whenever be met with persons to whom he supposed the matter had been communicated; but in justice to his character we must observe, that, so far from encouraging the woman to rob her husband, he was entirely ignorant of every thing relating to that matter till her husband's arrival at Edinburgh. Notwithstanding the above affair, Young was still held in much esteem by his officers; and in a short tune the regiment was ordered to proceed to the North, and remained in the royal barracks at Inverness for above a twelvemonth.

Young being both sergeant-major and paymaster, many notes on the bank of Scotland necessarily came into his possession. While looking over some of these notes in the guard-room, a man named Parker, whom he had enlisted in England, observed that, if he had a few tools, he could engrave a plate for counterfeiting the notes on the Edinburgh bank. Young seemed to give but little attention to what the other said; but took him to an alehouse on the following day, and requested an explanation as to the manner of executing the scheme he had suggested. Parker informed him that, besides engraving an exact resemblance of the letters and figures, he could form a machine for printing such notes as should not he known from those of the Scotch hank.

In short, Young hired a private apartment for Parker, and supplied him with every utensil necessary for carrying the iniquitous plan into effect; and, in a short time, some counterfeit notes were produced, hearing a near resemblance to the real ones. Upwards of six months elapsed before the fraud was detected.

Orders being issued for the regiment to march to England, Young determined to procure cash for as many notes as possible previously to his departure from Inverness, knowing that in the southern parts the forgery would be liable to immediate detection. With this view he applied to Mr. Gordon, who was concerned in the stocking-manufactory at Aberdeen, and prevailed upon him to give sixty pounds in cash for notes expressing to be of the same value.

On his journey from Inverness, Mr. Gordon parted with several of the notes at different places; but, upon reaching Aberdeen, an advertisement in the newspapers, in the name of the governors of the bank at Edinburgh, convinced him that he had been deceived. In consequence of this Mr. Gordon wrote to the sheriff of Inverness, who immediately took Young into custody, and found three hundred notes, and the copper-plate from which they had been printed, in his possession. Parker was admitted an evidence for the crown, and Young was removed to Edinburgh for trial before the High Court of Justiciary. After a trial that lasted a whole day, he was pronounced to be guilty, and sentenced to suffer death.

While this malefactor was under confinement be would not consent to be visited by the clergy, though several, from motives of humanity, were desirous of using their endeavours to prepare him for eternity. He was informed by his fellow-prisoners that, if he could procrastinate his execution beyond the appointed time, his life would of necessity be preserved; for that the crown law of Scotland declared that condemned prisoners should be executed between two and four o'clock on the days expressed. Being ignorant of the law, the unhappy man was amused by this story, and hoped to escape punishment by the following means:  he secured the strong iron door of the room wherein he was confined in such a manner, that when the gaoler came, in order to conduct him to the place of execution, he could not gain admittance.

Upwards of fifty carpenters, smiths, masons, and other artificers, were sent for, to open a passage; but they all declined undertaking a business which they deemed to be impracticable, and were unanimously of opinion that an aperture could not be made in the wall without endangering the whole fabric.

Matters being thus circumstanced, the lord-provost and the rest of the magistrates assembled at the prison, and, after long debates, it was determined to form an opening to the room by breaking through the floor of that immediately above.

The opening being made, the prisoner leaped up, and, seizing a musket from one of the city guards, declared, with an oath, that, if any man attempted to molest him, he would immediately dash out his brains. Six of the soldiers, however, suddenly descended, and one of them received a terrible blow from the prisoner; but he was immediately after secured by the other five, and executed.

John Young underwent the sentence of the law in the Grassmarket of Edinburgh, about six o'clock on the evening of the 19th of  December, 1748.

Young was not addicted to indulge himself in expensive pleasures; and we may suppose that his pay as a private soldier, added to the emoluments be derived from the posts of sergeant-major and paymaster to his regiment, would have proved equal to every reasonable gratification, especially in a country where the necessaries and conveniences of life were to be procured with moderate expense.

It must be acknowledged that his seduction of his master's maid-servant and the innkeeper's wife were offences of a most heinous nature; but in other respects his character was unimpeached: he was highly respected by his officers, and universally esteemed by all who were acquainted with him; be was in the way to preferment, and would, in all probability, have made a distinguished figure in life, had he been contented to proceed by the gradual advances to fortune; but, from the hint given by Parker, he conceived the hopes of speedily amassing great riches, without considering that wealth unjustifiably obtained must necessarily prove the source of affliction to the possessor.

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1749

34: Benjamin Tapner, John Cobby, John Hammond, Richard Mills, Richard Mills the Younger, and Others

Revengeful Smugglers, who were executed for a Diabolical Murder, 18th of January, 1749

While London and its environs were beset with gangs of highwaymen and pickpockets, the country was infested by villains not less dangerous, and much more cruel, who preyed upon the public by defrauding the revenue.

Smugglers formerly went in parties, strong enough to oppose the officers of excise; and, whenever a custom-house officer fell into their hands, he was most barbarously treated, and often murdered.

The two unfortunate men who were cruelly murdered by this gang of desperate villains, were W. Galley, the elder, a custom-house officer in Southampton; and D. Chater, a shoemaker, of Fordingbridge. Having been sent to give information respecting some circumstances attending the daring burglary into the custom-house at Pool; and not returning to their respective homes, a suspicion arose that they had been waylaid, and murdered by the smugglers; and a search for them was therefore instituted.

Those employed for this purpose, after every inquiry, could bear no certain tidings of them; as the fear of the smugglers' resentment, silenced such inhabitants on the road, over which they had carried the unfortunate men, as were not in connection with them. At length, a Mr Stone, following his hounds, came to a spot, which appeared to have been dug not long before; and the publicity of the circumstances of those men being missed, he conjectured that they might have been buried there, and, upon digging nearly seven feet in the earth, were found the remains of Galley, but in so putrid a state, as not to be known, except by the clothes. The search after Chater was now pursued with redoubled vigilance, till found in a well, six miles distant from Galley, in Harris Wood, near Lady Holt Park, with a quantity of stones, wooden rails, and earth, upon him.

The two men, Galley and Chater, went on Sunday, Feb. 14, 1748, to Major Batten, a justice of the peace, at Stanstead, in Sussex, with a letter written by Mr Shearer, collector of the customs at Southampton, requesting him to take an examination of Chater, concerning one Diamond, or Dymar, who was committed to Chichester gaol, on suspicion of being one who broke the King's warehouse at Poole. Chater was engaged to give evidence, but with some reluctance, having declared that he saw Diamond, and shook hands with him, who, with many others, was coming from Poole, loaded with tea, of which he threw him a bag. Having passed Havant, and coming to the New Inn, at Leigh, they enquired their way, when G. Austin, his brother, and brother-in-law, said that they were going the same road, and would accompany them to Rowland's Castle, where they might get better direction, it being just by Stanfield Park.

A little before noon, they came to the White Hart at Rowland's Castle, kept by Eliz. Payne, widow, who had two sons, blacksmiths, in the same village. After some talk, she told G. Austin, privately, she was afraid that these two strangers were come to hurt the smugglers. He said, No, sure; they were only carrying a letter to Major Batten. Upon this, she sent one of her sons for W. Jackson and W. Carter, who lived near her house. Meanwhile, Chater and Galley wanted to be going, and asked for their horses; but she told them, that the Major was not at home, which, indeed, was true.

As soon as Jackson and Carter came, she told them her suspicions, with the circumstance of the letter. Soon after, she advised G. Austin to go away, lest be should come to some harm; he did so, leaving his brothers.

Payne's other son went and fetched in W. Steele, S. Downer, (otherwise Little Samuel,) Edm. Richards, and H. Sheerman, (otherwise Little Harry,) all smugglers, belonging to the same gang.

After they had drank a little while, Carter, who had some knowledge of Chater, called him into the yard and asked him where Diamond was? Chater said, he believed he was in custody, and that he was going to appear against him, which he was sorry for, but could not help it. Galley came into the yard to them, and asking Chater why he would stay there? Jackson, who followed him, said, with a horrid imprecation, What is that to you? and immediately struck him a blow in the face, which knocked him down, and set his nose and mouth a-bleeding. Soon after, they all came into the house, when Jackson, reviling Galley, offered to strike him again but one of the Paines interposed.

Galley and Chater now began to be very uneasy, and wanted to be going; but  Jackson, Carter, and the rest of them, persuading them to stay and drink more rum, and make it up, for they were sorry for what had happened, they sat down again; Austin and his brother-in-law being present.

Jackson and Carter desired to see the letter, but they refused to shew it. The smugglers then drank about plentifully, and made Galley and Chater fuddled; then persuaded them to lie down on a bed, which they did, and fell asleep. The letter was then taken away, and read; and, the substance of it greatly exasperating them, it was destroyed.

One John Royce, a smuggler, now came in; and Jackson and Carter told him the contents of the letter, and that they had got the old rogue, the shoe-maker, of Fordingbridge, who was going to inform against J. Diamond, the shepherd, then in custody at Chichester. Here W. Steele proposed to take them both to a well, about two hundred yards from the house, and to murder and throw them in.

This proposal was not taken, as they had been seen in their company by the Austins, Mr Garnet, and one Mr Jenks, who was newly come into the house to drink. It was next proposed to send them to France; but that was objected against, as there was a possibility of their coming over again. Jackson and Carter's wives being present, cried out, Hang the dogs, for they are come here to hang you. It was then proposed and agreed, to keep them confined till they could know Diamond's fate; and whatever it was, to treat these in the same manner; and each to allow threepence a week towards keeping them.

Galley and Chater continuing asleep, Jackson went in, and began the first scene of cruelty; for having put on his spurs, he got upon the bed, and spurred their foreheads, to wake them, and afterwards whipped them with a horse-whip; so that when they came out, they were both bleeding. The abovesaid smugglers then took them out of the house; but Richards returned with a pistol, and swore be would shoot any person who should mention what had passed.

Meanwhile, the rest put Galley and Chater on one horse, tied their legs under the horse's belly, and then tied both their legs together; they now set forward, all but Race, who had no horse. They had not gone above two hundred yards before Jackson called out, Whip 'em, cut 'em slash 'em, d--n 'em; upon which all began to whip, except Steele, who led the horse, the roads being very bad. They whipped them for half a mile, till they came to Woodash, where they fell off, with their heads under the horse's belly, and their legs, which were tied, appeared over the horse's back. Their tormentors soon set them upright again, and continued whipping them over the head, face, shoulders, &c. till they came to Dean, upwards of half a mile farther; here they both fell again, as before, with their heads under the horse's belly, which were struck, at every step, by the horse's hoofs.

Upon placing them again on the saddle, they found them so weak, that they could not sit; upon which they separated them, and put Galley before Steele, and Chater before Little Sam, and then whipped Galley so severely that the lashes coming upon Steele, at his desire they desisted. They then went to Harris's Well, near Lady Holt Park, where they took Galley off the horse, and threatened to throw him into the well. Upon which he desired them to dispatch him at once, and put an end to his misery. No, said Jackson, cursing, if that's the case, we have more to say to you; then put him on a horse again, and whipped him over the Downs, till he was so weak, that be fell off; when they laid him across the saddle, with his breast downwards, and Little Sam got up behind him, and, as they went on, he squeezed Galley's testicles, so that he groaned with the agony, and tumbled off: being then put on astride, Richards got up behind him, but soon the poor man cried out, I fall, I fall, I fall! and Richards pushing him said, Fall, and be d―n'd. Upon which he fell down; and the villains thinking this fall had broke his neck, laid him again on the horse, and proposed to go to some proper place where Chater might be concealed till they heard the fate of Diamond.

Jackson and Carter called at one Pescod's house, desiring admittance for two sick men; but he absolutely refused it.

Being now one o'clock in the morning, they agreed to go to one Scardefield's, at the Red Lion, at Rake, which was not far. Here Carter and Jackson got admittance, after many refusals. While Scardefield went to draw liquor, be heard more company come in; but though they refused to admit him into the room, he saw one man standing up very bloody, and another lying as dead. They said they had engaged some officers, lost their tea, and several of them were wounded, if not killed.

Jackson and Little Harry now carried Chater down to one Old Mill's, which was not far off, and chained him in a turf-house, and Little Harry staying to watch him, Jackson returned again to the company. -- After they had drank gin and rum they all went out, taking Galley with them; Carter compelled Scardefield to shew them the place where they used to bury their tea, and to lend them spades and a candle and lantern: there they began to dig, and, it being very cold, he helped to make a hole, where they buried something that lay across a horse, like a dead man.

They continued at Scardefield's, drinking all that day, and in the night went to their own homes, in order to be seen on Tuesday, agreeing to meet again upon Thursday at the same house, and bring more of their associates. They met accord ingly, and brought old Richard Mills, and his sons Richard and John, Tho. Stringer, John Cobby, Benj. Tapner, and John Hammond, who, with the former, made fourteen. They consulted now what was to be done with Chater; it was unanimously agreed that he must be destroyed. R. Mills, jun. proposed to load a gun, clap the muzzle to his head, tie a long string to the trigger, then all to pull it, that all might be equally guilty of his murder. This was rejected, because it would put him out of his pain too soon; and at length they came to a resolution to carry him up to Harris's Well, which was not far off, and throw him in.

All this while, Chater was in the utmost horror and misery, being visited by one or other of them, who abused him both with words and blows. At last they all came, and Tapner and Cobby going into the turf-house, the former pulled out a claspknife, and said, with a great oath, Down on your knees, and go to prayers, for with this knife I'll be your butcher. The poor man knelt down; and, as he was at prayers, Cobby kicked him, calling him informing villain. Chater asking what they had done with Mr Galley, Tapner slashed his knife across his eyes, almost cutting them out, and the gristle of his nose quite through: he bore it patiently, believing they were putting an end to his misery. Tapner struck at him again, and made a deep cut in his forehead. Upon this, old Mills said, Do not murder him here, but somewhere else. Accordingly they placed him upon a horse, and all set out together for Harris's Well, except Mills and his sons, they having no horses ready, and saying, in excuse, That they were enough, without them, to murder one man. All the way, Tapner whipped him till the blood came, and then swore, that if he blooded the saddle, he would torture him the more.

When they were come within two hundred yards of the well, Jackson and Carter stopped, saying to Tapner, Cobby, Stringer, Steel, and Hammond, Go on and do your duty on Chater, as we have ours upon Galley. -- In the dead of the night, of the 18th, they brought him to the well, which was near 30 feet deep, but dry, and paled close round. Tapner, having fastened a noose round Chater's neck, they bid him get over the pales to the well. He was going through a broken place; but though he was covered with blood, and fainting with the anguish of his wounds, they forced him to climb up, having the rope about his neck, one end of which being tied to the pales, they pushed him into the well; but the rope being short, he hung no farther within it than his thighs, and, leaning against the edge, he hung above a quarter of an hour, and was not strangled. Then they untied him, and threw him head foremost into the well. They tarried some time, and hearing him groan, they concluded to go to one Wm. Comleah's, a gardener, to borrow a rope and ladder, saying, they wanted to relieve one of their companions, who had fallen into Harris's Well. He said they might take them. But they could not manage the ladder, in their confusion, it being a long one.

They then returned to the well; and still finding him groan, and fearing that he might be heard, so as to make a discovery, the place being near the road, they threw upon him some of the rails and gate-posts fixed about the well, and also some great stones; when, finding him silent, they left him.

The next consultation was how to dispose of the two horses. To prevent discovery, they killed Galley's, which was grey, and took his hide off, cut it into small pieces, and hid them; but a bay horse, which Chater rode on, got from them.

This daring gang, being now broken, a number of witnesses came forward on their trial, and two of their accomplices being pardoned, were admitted evidence against them. The charge, in all its horrors, was fully proved; whereupon the judge, Sir Michael Foster, pronounced sentence on the convicts, in one of the most pathetic addresses that was ever heard; repre senting the enormity of the crime, and exhorting them to make immediate preparation for the awful fate that awaited them; adding, that "Christian charity obliges me to tell you, that your time in this world will be very short."

The heinousness of the crime, of which these men had been convicted, rendering it necessary that their punishment should be exemplary, the judge ordered that they should be executed on the following day; and the sentence was accordingly carried into execution against all but Jackson, who died in prison on the evening that he was condemned. They were attended by two ministers, and all, but Mills and his son (who took no notice of each other, and thought themselves not guilty, be cause they were not present at the finishing of the inhuman murder), shewed great marks of penitence. Tapner and Carter gave good advice to the spectators, and desired dillgence might be used to apprehend Richards, whom they charged as the cause of their being brought to this wretched end. Young Mills smiled several times at the executioner, who was a discharged marine, and having ropes too short for some of them was puzzled to fit them. Old Mills being forced to stand tip toe to reach the halter, desired that he might not be hanged by inches. The Mills's were so rejoiced at being told that they were not to be hanged in chains after execution, that death seemed to excite in them no terror; while Jackson was so struck with horror, at being measured for his irons, that he soon expired.

They were hanged at Chichester, on the 18th of January, 1749, amidst such a concourse of spectators as is seldom seen on such occasions.

Carter was hung in chains, near Rake, in Sussex; Tapner on Rook's hill, near Chichester; and Cobby and Hammond at Cesley Isle, on the beach where they sometimes landed their smuggled goods, and where they could be seen at a great distance, east and west.

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35: Usher Gahagan and Terence Conner

Erudite Men, who were executed for High Treason, in diminishing the Current Coin of the Realm, 28th of February , 1749

USHER GAHAGAN and Terence Conner were natives of Ireland. The former received his education in Trinity College, Dublin, and was intended for the honourable profession of the law, in which several of his relations had become eminent.

He had been instructed by his parents in the Protestant religion, but falling into company with some priests of the Romish persuasion they converted him to their faith, which was a principal obstacle to his future advancement ,in life; for as no gentleman can be admitted a counsellor-at-law without taking the Oaths of Supremacy and Faith prevented his complying with these terms, he declined any further prosecution of his legal studies.

His parents and other relations were greatly offended with his conduct; and those who had particularly engaged themselves for the advancement of his fortune forbade him to visit them, through indignation at the impropriety of his behaviour.

Thus reduced to an incapacity of supporting himself, he sought to relieve his circumstances by a matrimonial scheme; and having addressed the daughter of a gentleman, he obtained her in marriage, and received a good fortune with her; but, treating her with undeserved severity, she was compelled to return to the protection of her relations.

His conduct having now rendered him obnoxious to his acquaintances in Dublin, he quitted that city, and repaired to London, with a view to supporting himself by his literary abilities.

On his arrival in the metropolis he made some connections with the booksellers, and undertook to translate Pope's  Essay on Man into Latin; but, becoming connected with some women of abandoned character, he spent his time in a dissipated manner, and thus threw himself out of that employment which might have afforded him a decent support.

He now made an acquaintance with an Irishman, named Hugh Coffey, and they agreed on a plan for the diminution of the current coin. At this time Gahagan had a lodger named Conner, and, it being agreed to receive him as a partner in this iniquitous scheme, they procured proper tools. Having collected a sum of money, they filed it and put it off; and procuring more, filed that also and passed it in the same manner.

Having continued this business some months, during which they had saved a sum of money, they went to the bank, and got some Portugal pieces, under pretence that they were intended for exportation to Ireland. Thus they got money repeatedly at the bank; but at length one of the tellers, suspecting their business, communicated his suspicion to the governors, who directed him to drink with them, as the proper method to discover who they were and what was their employment.

In pursuance of this order he, on their next appearance, invited them to drink a glass of wine at the Crown Tavern, near Cripplegate; to which they readily agreed, and met him after the hours of office.

When the circulation of the glass had sufficiently warmed them, Gahagan, with a degree of weakness that is altogether astonishing, informed the teller that he acquired considerable sums by filing gold, and even proposed that he should become a partner with them. The gentleman seemed to accede to the proposal, and, having learned where they lodged, acquainted the cashiers of the bank with what had passed.

On the following day Coffey was apprehended; but Gahagan and Conner being suspicious of the danger of their situation, retired to a public-house called Chalk Farm, a little way out of the road from London to Hampstead, where they carried their implements for filing; but Coffey having been admitted an evidence it was not long before the place of their retreat was known; on which they were apprehended, and lodged in Newgate.

Terence Conner was a native of Ireland, and had received a most liberal education. It is recorded of him that he was so perfectly well read in Roman history as to be able to turn to any part of it without the assistance of an index. He was, by birth, heir to a considerable fortune; but, his father dying without a proper adjustment of his affairs, some intricate lawsuits were the consequence; so that the whole estate was only sufficient to discharge the demands of the gentlemen of the long robe.

Conner, being reduced in circumstances, came to London, and, becoming acquainted with Gahagan and Coffey, was concerned in diminishing the coin, as above mentioned. On their trial the evidence of Coffey was positive; and, being supported by collateral proofs, the jury could not hesitate to find them guilty, and they received sentence of death. They were hanged on 28th of February, 1749.

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36: Brian Seymour

Executed for murder, 2nd March, 1749

BRIAN SEYMOUR was born at Waterford, in Ireland; and his father having served in the army many years, and been at length promoted to the post of a right-hand man, or, in a more military phrase, made a corporal, the son must also 'Seek for honour even in the cannon's mouth.'

He enlisted in the sixth regiment of foot, and, soon afterwards embarking for Flanders, had a share in the memorable battle of Fontenoy.

The rebellion in 1745 occasioned his being sent to England, when he served under General Wade, who then commanded in Yorkshire; but, marching thence to Newcastle, Seymour had there a quarrel with a soldier respecting a woman of ill fame; and, a duel ensuing, his antagonist was killed: but the troublesome situation of affairs induced the general to grant Seymour a free pardon, without a minute scrutiny into his conduct.

Proceeding to Scotland, this man was present at the battle of Culloden, where he behaved with singular courage; but the regiment in which he served, having been greatly injured, was ordered into winter quarters at Edinburgh, where the indulgence of his irregular passions gave rise to the crime which cost him his life.

At this time it was customary for some of the ministers of the church of Scotland, who were out of employment, to marry people at alehouses, in the same manner that the Fleet marriages were conducted in London. Sometimes people of fortune thought it prudent to apply to these marriage-brokers; but, as their chief business lay among the lower ranks of people, they were deridingly called by the name of 'Buckle the Beggars.'

Most of these marriages were solemnized at public houses in the Cannongate; and Seymour happening to be present there when a couple came to be married, and no priest present, be whispered the landlady, that if she would procure him a suit of black he would officiate as the parson. The woman, unwilling to lose a customer, procured the clothes, and Seymour, being dressed in them, went into the room where the young couple waited, assuming the grave deportment of a real clergyman.

The lady who was to be married hinting that she did not think he was a minister, he solemnly averred that he was, and the marriage took place accordingly.

Before ten o'clock at night Seymour was obliged to return to the barracks in the Castle; but by this time he was so much intoxicated, that he was prepared to affront every one he met. When he came to the Lawnmarket, he ran against a gentleman's servant named Johnson, who, being irritated, struck Seymour a blow on the face; on which the latter drew his sword, and stabbed Johnson, so that he instantly died; when the murderer put up his sword, and proceeded towards the Castle. A shoemaker, named Young, having observed what had passed, followed Seymour to the gate of the Castle; but the clock striking ten at that instant, the drawbridge was pulled up, so that Young could not be admitted for that night.

On the following morning Young went to the Lord Justice Clerk, and, informing him of what he knew of the transaction, offered his assistance in discovering the murderer: on which his lordship ordered an officer to attend him, and directed the governor to let him have a sight of all the soldiers.

At ten o'clock the men were draw up on the parade, and Young,  walking round the lines, fixed on Seymour as the man who had committed the murder; whereupon he was delivered up, to abide the determination of the laws.

On the trial Young positively swore to the identity of the offender; and other evidence arising to prove that he was the party, he was capitally convicted, and sentence of death was pronounced against him.

This offender denied his guilt for some time, and hinted that Young was perjured; but he afterwards became truly sensible of the enormity of his crime, and confessed it, with all its aggravating circumstances. Two clergymen attended him to the place of execution, to which he walked, dressed in a shroud, and reading a religious book.

He was executed at Edinburgh on the 2d of March, 1749.

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37: John Collington

A Man of extraordinary Violence and Inhumanity. Executed at Canterbury with his Accomplice, John Stone, for setting fire to a Barn

IN the history of Collington, we find an uncommon share of depravity of mind united to cruelly and vice of every description.

The father of John Collington was Rector of Pluckley, near Sandwich, in Kent; and the youth was qualified, by a most liberal education and his great natural talents, to have made a very respectable figure in life; but his passions were so violent, and his revenge so implacable, that all who knew him beheld him with horror. He used to declare that he would be a sincere friend but an inveterate foe; and even while at school created such dissensions among the other scholars that he was held in universal contempt, and was discharged from more schools than one with marks of ignominy.

At length his father apprenticed him to a grocer, in Newgate Street, London; but he behaved in such a manner as to become an object of terror to his fellow-servants. The following circumstance, trifling as it is, will serve to mark his disposition: One of the maid-servants desiring him to fetch some mustard, he went out for that purpose; but calling a coach at the door, he drove to Cheapside, purchased the mustard, and on his return, paid the fare out of his master's money in the till. The master, astonished at his behaviour, demanded the reason of it: when he gave for answer, that "his parents had not bound him apprentice to be an errand boy."

On another occasion he asked his master's permission to visit his relations for a fortnight, and his request was complied with. When the time of his departure arrived, his master being absent, he asked his mistress to give him leave to stay three weeks, to which she consented. But he returned not till the end of five weeks; and his master enquiring why he had been so long absent, Collington replied that he had allowed him a fortnight, and his mistress three weeks, so that he had not out-staid his time. This duplicity of conduct incensed the master so, that he gave up his indentures and discharged him. Having served the remainder of his apprenticeship with a grocer of Maidstone, he opened a shop at Rye, in Sussex, where he lived for some years; but his temper was so bad that he fomented perpetual discord among his neighbours. From this place he went to Charing, in Kent, where he likewise kept a shop a considerable time; but the same conduct which had  rendered him an object of contempt at Rye made him equally obnoxious to the inhabitants of this latter place.

Collington had not been long in business before he married a young lady, with whom he received a considerable fortune, and by whom he had ten children, four of whom were living at the time of their father's fatal exit. The conduct of this man towards his wife and children was the most extravagant that can be imagined. The six children who died he buried in his own garden, nor would he permit any of them to be baptized. He frequently beat his children in a barbarous manner, and when the mother interposed on their behalf he used to confine her whole nights in a saw-pit.

Being remarkably fond of sporting, his wife, when big with child, requested that he would procure her a partridge; in consequence of which he went out, and shot several: but when the birds were dressed, and ready for the table, one of the children happening to offend him, he corrected it in so severe a manner, as to endanger its life; and the mother interposing for the preservation of the child, he was so enraged that he cut the partridges in pieces, and threw them to the cats and dogs.

This instance of worse than savage ferocity so affected his wife, that she fell into fits, and miscarried: but she had not long been recovered, when on her interposing, in behalf of one of the children, whom he was treating with severity, he threw her down stairs, and stamped on her breast, which gave rise to a cancer that occasioned her death.

Collington's father dying soon after this event, he succeeded to a good estate at Throwleigh, in Kent, to which place he removed, and took to the practice of exporting wool contrary to law; for which he was prosecuted in the Court of Exchequer, and ordered to pay a large penalty. But he avoided payment by having previously conveyed his estate to another and then swearing that he was not worth five pounds.

Notwithstanding the treatment his first wife had received from him, he soon married a second, by whom he had six children; and four of these, besides the same number by the former marriage (as we have mentioned), were living at the time of his death. Being fond of hunting, his offences against the laws made for the preservation of game became so numerous that the Dowager Countess of Rockingham built a cottage, in which she placed one of her servants as a spy upon his conduct. Collington, incensed by this circumstance, tempted a poor countryman to set fire to the cottage; but the man had courage and honesty enough to resist the temptation. Thereupon Collington took one of his servants, named Luckhurst, to Faversham, in Kent, at the time of the fair; and on their way thither told him he would give him half-a-guinea to fire the said cottage; which the man received, promising to comply.

On the following day, when Luckhurst recollected the nature of the contract he had been making, his mind was so disturbed that he went to Collington and offered back the money, declaring that he would have no share in the transaction. Collington was so enraged that he threatened to destroy him unless he kept the money and did as he had agreed; the consequence of which was, the man fired the cottage at midnight, by which it was reduced to the ground.

Collington was so neglectful of his children that he would not buy them necessary apparel, so that they appeared like beggars; nor would he even pay for their learning to read. The following is a striking proof of his want of humanity. One of his sons, a boy twelve years old, having offended him, he confined him in a saw- pit, where he must have been starved but that he was occasionally supplied with food by the humanity of the servants; and for this conduct their brutal master turned them out of the house without paying what was due to them. This inhuman father then refused to maintain his son, so that the child absolutely begged his bread in the neighbourhood; but he had not wandered long in this manner when Mr Clarke, the churchwarden, received him into his house, and provided for him till the Quarter Sessions, when he submitted the case to the consideration of the magistrates.

These gentlemen, having reflected that Mr Collington was in affluent circumstances, gave directions that the child should be properly provided for; and issued a warrant for seizing part of the father's effects to defray the charge. This warrant was executed by a constable, whom Clarke attended: a circumstance which gave such offence to Collington that he vowed revenge, and bade Clarke make his will. After this he hired five fellows to go to Mr Clarke's house and demand the child, on pretence that he belonged to a ship; but Mr Clarke, having the magistrates' order for his proceedings, said he was willing to answer for his conduct before any Justice of the Peace. No sooner had he thus expressed himself than they beat him in the most violent degree, and threatened his instant destruction unless he consented to accompany them. These threats had such an effect that he mounted a horse behind one of them, but as they were riding along he jumped off, and ran into the courtyard of a gentleman whose gate happened to stand open, while the other parties fired at him; but he escaped unhurt. Here he remained till the following day, when he went to his own house, and thence to a magistrate, before whom he swore the peace against Collington; on which the magistrate granted his warrant for the apprehension of the offender, who, refusing to give bail for his good behaviour, was lodged in the jail of Canterbury.

During his confinement he continually threatened vengeance against Clarke; and to execute his purpose he sent for a labouring man, named Stone, and the above-mentioned Luckhurst, and offered them a guinea each, on the condition of their setting fire to Mr Clarke's barn, in which a considerable quantity of corn was deposited. The villains, agreeing to this bargain, fired the barn at midnight, and likewise a number of hayricks, all of which were destroyed. Mr Clarke, suspecting that Collington was the contriver of this horrid scheme, made application to a magistrate, who issued an order that the prisoner should be more closely confined, and that the jail-keeper should take particular notice of his visitors. This precaution led to a discovery of the offenders; for on Luckhurst coming to procure more money of Collington he was taken into custody, and conducted before a Justice of the Peace, to whom he confessed the affair; and being admitted an evidence, Stone was soon taken up as one of the principals.

At the following assizes, held at Maidstone, Collington and Stone were brought to trial; when the former turned his back on the Court with an air of such utter contempt that the judge declared he had never been witness to such a scene of insolence. The prisoners, being convicted on the fullest evidence, were carried back to Canterbury, where the debtors commiserated their unhappy circumstances; but Collington made a jest of his situation, and swore he did not regard it, as he was certain of obtaining the Royal mercy.

This hardened villain likewise encouraged Stone to hope for mercy, as he could get him included in the pardon; but the event proved how much he was mistaken in his conjecture.

Collington's wife, coming to visit him, was so affected with grief as to be unable to speak to him for a considerable time; yet he was so hardened as not to feel for her situation, but bade her not give herself the least concern, as he was certain of getting a reprieve, and hoped to live to revenge himself on his enemies, even if he should be transported.

He frequently expressed himself in the most revengeful terms against his prosecutor; and appeared, in other respects, so destitute of all the feelings of humanity that his conduct surprised everyone who was witness to it. Thus he spent his time without preparing for the sentence that he was to suffer, still boasting to his visitors that the rank of life he held as a gentleman would secure him a reprieve.

Luckhurst, who had been evidence against him, being apprehended for committing a robbery on the highway, Collington thought this a fair opportunity to solicit a reprieve, for which purpose he dispatched an express to the Duke of Newcastle; but the answer he received was that he must not expect any favour, for that the gentlemen of the county had exerted their influence that the law might be permitted to take its course. On being informed that the warrant for his execution was arrived, his boasted courage left him for a short time; but recollecting himself he inquired if Stone was included in the warrant; and being answered in the affirmative, said he lamented his situation more than his own. After this he soon recovered his spirits, and still flattered himself with the hope of being pardoned. The day preceding his execution he was visited by his wife and several relations, who advised him to make a serious preparation for his approaching death, and asked him where he would be buried. This question inflamed all his passions, so that he swore he would not be hanged; but soon afterwards, calling for a glass of wine, he drank it, saying: "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die."

On the following day Collington was conveyed to the place of execution in a mourning-coach, and Stone in a cart; and both of them being placed under the gallows, Collington prayed with the minister, but declined making any speech to the surrounding multitude.

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38: Richard Coleman

Who was executed on Kennington Common, in Surrey, 12th of April, 1749, for a Murder he did not commit!

RICHARD COLEMAN was indicted at the assizes held at Kingston, in Surrey, in March 1749, for the murder of Sarah Green, on the 23rd of July preceding; when he was capitally convicted.

Mr Coleman had received a decent education, and was clerk to a brewer at the time the affair happened which cost him his life; and had a wife and several children, who were reduced to accept the bounty of the parish, in consequence of his conviction.

The murdered person was Sarah Green, who, having been with some acquaintances to a beanfeast in Kennington Lane, stayed to a late hour, and on her return towards Southwark she met with three men, who had the appearance of brewers' servants, two of whom used her in so inhuman a manner as will bear no description.

Such was the ill-treatment she had received that it was two o'clock in the morning before she was able to reach her lodgings, and on the following day was so ill that she informed several people how she had been treated; on which she was sent to St Thomas's Hospital.

While in the hospital she declared that the clerk in Taylor's (then Berry's) brew-house was one of the parties who had treated her in such an infamous manner; and it was supposed that Coleman was the person to whom she alluded.

Two days after the shocking transaction had happened, Coleman and one Daniel Trotman called at the Queen's Head ale- house, in Bandy-Leg Walk, when the latter was perfectly sober, but the former in a state of intoxication. Having called for some rum-and-water, Coleman was stirring it with a spoon when a stranger asked him what he had done with the pig― meaning a pig that had been lately stolen in the neighbourhood. Coleman, unconscious of guilt, and conceiving himself affronted by such an impertinent question, said: "D―n the pig, what is it to me?"

The other, who seems to have had an intention to ensnare him, asked him if he did not know Kennington Lane. Coleman answered that he did, and added:

"D―n ye, what of that?" The other then asked him if he knew the woman that had been so cruelly treated in Kennington Lane.

Coleman replied: "Yes," and again said: "D―n ye, what of that?"

The other man asked: "Was not you one of the parties concerned in that affair?"

Coleman, who, as we have said, was intoxicated, and had no suspicion of design, replied: "If I had, you dog, what then?"― and threw at him the spoon with which he was stirring the liquor.

A violent quarrel ensued; but at length Coleman went away with Trotman.

On the following day, Coleman calling at the Queen'sHead above mentioned, the landlord informed him how imprudently he had acted the preceding day. Coleman, who had been too drunk to remember what had passed, asked if he had offended any person; on which the landlord informed him of what had happened, but the other, still conscious of his innocence, paid no regard to what he said.

On the 29th of August, Daniel Trotman and another man went before Mr Clarke, a magistrate in the Borough, and charged Coleman on suspicion of having violently assaulted and cruelly treated Sarah Green, in the Parsonage Walk, near Newington Church, in Surrey.

The magistrate, who does not seem to have supposed that Coleman was guilty, sent for him and hired a man to attend him to the hospital where the wounded woman lay; and pointing out Coleman, he asked her if he was one of the persons who had used her so cruelly. She said she believed he was, but, as she declined to swear positively to his having any concern in the affair, Justice Clarke admitted him to bail.

Some time afterwards Coleman was again taken before the magistrate, when, nothing positively being sworn against him, the justice would have absolutely discharged him, but Mr Wynne, the master of the injured girl, requesting that he might once more be taken to see her, a time was fixed for that purpose, and the justice took Coleman's word for his appearance.

The accused party came punctually to his time, bringing with him the landlord of an ale-house where Sarah Green had drunk on the night of the affair with the three men who really injured her; and this publican, and other people, declared on oath that Coleman was not one of the parties.

On the following day Justice Clarke went to the hospital to take the examination of the woman on oath. Having asked her if Coleman was one of the men who had injured her, she said she could not tell, as it was dark at the time; but, Coleman being called in, an oath was administered to her, when she swore that he was one of the three men that abused her.

Notwithstanding this oath, the justice, who thought the poor girl not in her right senses, and was convinced in his own mind of the innocence of Coleman, permitted him to depart on his promise of bringing bail the following day to answer the complaint at the next assizes for Surrey; and he brought his bail, and gave security accordingly.

Sarah Green dying in the hospital, the coroner's jury sat to inquire into the cause of her death; and, having found a verdict of wilful murder against Richard Coleman and two persons then unknown, a warrant was issued to take Coleman into custody.

Though this man was conscious of his innocence, yet such were his terrors at the idea of going to prison on such a charge that he absconded, and secreted himself at Pinner, near Harrow-on-the-Hill.

King George II. being then at Hanover, a proclamation was issued by the Lords of the Regency offering a reward of fifty pounds for the apprehension of the supposed offender; and to this the parish of St Saviour, Southwark, added a reward of twenty pounds.

Coleman read the advertisement for his apprehension in the Gazette, but was still so thoughtless as to conceal himself; though perhaps an immediate surrender would have been deemed the strongest testimony of his innocence. However, to assert his innocence, he caused the following advertisement to be printed in the newspaper:― "I, Richard Coleman, seeing myself advertised in the Gazette as absconding on account of the murder of Sarah Green, knowing myself not any way culpable, do assert that I have not absconded from justice; but will willingly and readily appear at the next assizes, knowing that my innocence will acquit me."

Strict search being made after him, he was apprehended at Pinner, above mentioned, on the 22nd of November, and lodged in Newgate, whence he was removed to the New Jail, Southwark, till the time of the assizes at Kingston, in Surrey; when his conviction arose principally from the evidence of Trotman and the declaration of the dying woman.

Some persons positively swore that he was in another place at the time the fact was committed, but their evidence was not credited by the jury. After conviction Coleman behaved like one who was possessed of conscious innocence, and who had no fear of death for a crime which he had not committed.

He was attended at the place of execution by the Rev. Mr Wilson, to whom he delivered a paper in which he declared, in the most solemn and explicit manner, that he was altogether innocent of the crime alleged against him. He died with great resignation, lamenting only the distress in which he should leave a wife and children.

Note: This man's innocence was fully established in 1751, when James Welsh and Thomas Jones confessed that they committed the crime. See below.

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39: Thomas Kingsmill, Fairall and Perin

Three of the thirty Smugglers who broke open the Custom-House at Poole, and were executed at Tyburn, 26th of April, 1749

KINGSMILL was a native of Goudhurst, in Kent, and had passed some part of his life as a husbandman; but having associated with the smugglers, he made no scruple of entering into the most hazardous enterprises, and became so distinguished for his courageous -- or rather ferocious -- disposition that he was chosen captain of the gang.

Fairall was a native of Horsendown Green, in Kent, and the son of poor parents, who were unable either to educate him or to give him any regular employment by which he might obtain a livelihood. He began to associate with the smugglers while quite a boy, and was frequently employed by them to hold their horses; and when he grew up to man's estate he was admitted as one of the fraternity. He was so remarkable for his brutal courage that it was not thought safe to offend him.

Perin was a native of Chichester, in Sussex. Having served his time to a carpenter, he practised some years as a master, and was successful in trade; but a stroke of the palsy depriving him of the use of his right hand he became connected with the smugglers, on whose behalf he used to sail to the coast of France and purchase goods, which he brought to England; and in this capacity he proved very serviceable to the gang.

It is evident that these men must have greatly injured the revenue and the fair trader, for they had a number of warehouses in different parts of Sussex for the concealment of their goods, and kept not less than fifty horses, some of which they sent loaded to London, and others to the fairs round the country.

Perin, being in France in the year 1747, bought a large quantity of goods, which he loaded on board a cutter, with a view to run them on the coast of Sussex; but, as several smuggling vessels were expected at this juncture, Captain Johnson, who commanded a cutter in the Government's service, received orders to sail in search of them.

In consequence thereof he sailed from Poole and took the smuggling cutter above mentioned on the following day; but Perin and his accomplices escaped by taking to their boat. Captain Johnson found the cargo to consist of brandy and tea, to a very large amount, which he carried safe into the harbour of Poole.

Soon after this transaction, which happened in the month of September, the whole body of smugglers assembled in Charlton Park, to consult if there was any possibility of recovering the goods of which they had thus been deprived. After many schemes had been proposed, and rejected, Perin recommended that they should go in a body, armed, and break open the custom-house at Poole; and, this proposal being acceded to, a paper was drawn up, by way of bond, that they should support each other; and this was signed by all the parties.

This agreement, which was filled with dreadful curses on each other in case of failure to execute it, was signed on the 6th of October. Having provided themselves with swords and fire-arms they met on the following day; and, having concealed themselves in a wood till the evening they proceeded towards Poole, where they arrived about eleven at night.

Having forced the door of the custom-house open, with hatchets and other instruments, they carried off the smuggled goods, with which they loaded their horses; and, travelling all night, stopped in the morning at Fording's Bridge.

The smugglers numbered thirty, and their horses thirty-one. Continuing their journey to a place named Brook, they divided the booty into equal shares, and then departed, each to his own house.

This daring transaction being represented to the Secretaries of State, King George II gave orders for issuing a proclamation, with a reward for the apprehension of the offenders. At length two of the smugglers gave intelligence of the usual place of meeting of the others, in consequence of which Fairall, Kingsmill, Perin, and another, named Glover, were taken into custody, and conducted to Newgate. They were brought to trial, were capitally convicted, and received sentence of death; but the jury recommended Glover as an object of the Royal clemency.

On the following day Perin was carried to the place of execution in a mourning-coach; the two others in a cart with a guard of Horse and Foot Guards. The behaviour of Fairall and Kingsmill was remarkably undaunted; but all of them joined in devotion with the ordinary of Newgate when they came to the fatal tree. The bodies of Kingsmill and Fairall were hung in chains in the county of Kent.

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40: Samuel Couchman and John Morgan, Lieutenants Of Marines, Thomas Knight, Carpenter, and Others

Part of the Crew of His Majesty's Ship Chesterfield, shot at Portsmouth, for mutiny, July 14, 1749.

THE Chesterfield man of war, under the command of Captain O'Brian Dudley, was stationed off Cape-Coast Castle, on the coast of Africa, when a dangerous mutiny broke out among the crew, of whom the above-named officers were the leaders. They were charged with "exciting and encouraging mutiny, and running away with his Majesty's ship Chesterfield, on the 10th day of October, 1748, from the coast of Africa, leaving their captain, two lieutenants, with other officers, and some seamen, on shore."

Hereupon a court-martial, was held on board his Majesty's ship Invincible, of which Sir Edward Hawke, of glorious memory, was president.

The first evidence called in support of the prosecution was Mr.Gasterin, the late boatswain of the Chesterfield, who deposed that, on the 15th of October, 1748, Captain Dudley, being then on shore at Cape-Coast Castle, sent off his barge to Mr. Couchman, ordering him to send the cutter on shore, with the boatswain of the ship, to see the tents struck on shore, and to bring every thing belonging to the ship on board that night; but Couchman directly ordered the barge to be hoisted in, and the boatswain to turn all the hands to the quarterdeck, where Mr. Couchman, coming, from his cabin with a drawn sword, said, "Here I am: G--d d--n me, I will stand by you while I have a drop of blood in my body!" He was accompanied by John Morgan, the lieutenant of marines; Thomas Knight, the carpenter; his mate, John Place, (a principal actor); and about 30 seamen with cutlasses. They then gave three huzzas, and threw their hats overboard; damning old hats, they would soon get new.

Couchman then sent for the boatswain to know if he would stand by him, and go with him; he replied, No; and said, "For God's sake, Sir, be ruled by reason, and consider what you are about." Couchman then threatened to put him in irons if he did not join with him, but the boatswain told him he never would [join] in such piratical designs; he was then ordered into custody, and two sentinels put over him. Couchman soon after sent for Gilham, the mate of the ship, and made the same speech to him, who desired to know where he was bound; and upon what account? He replied, "To take burn, and sink, and settle a colony in the East Indies."  There were five or six more put into custody with the boatswain in the same place, and were confined only five or six hours, for, in the middle of the night, after their confinement, Couchman sent for them into the great cabin, and desired them to sit and drink punch, and then dismissed them.

The next day the boatswain was invited to dinner by the new commander, who began to rail against Captain Dudley, and asked him and one of the mates what they thought of the affair: the boatswain replied, he thought it rank piracy; on which Couchman said, "What I have done I cannot now go from: I was forced to it by the ship's- company." The boatswain then told him "that would be no sanction for his running away with the king's ship." The carpenter and lieutenant then proposed their signing a paper, to which the boatswain replied he never would, and would sooner suffer death: the mate said the same.

When the boatswain came out of the great cabin, he went to the gunner's cabin, who was then sick, and unable to come out of it, but was of great use, by his prudent advice and assistance; for, after the boatswain had told him that Couchman's party had taken possession of all the arms, he said that he could furnish him with twenty pistols. By this time Mr. Fraser and Mr. Gilham, mates of the ship, the gunner's mate and yeoman, and the cockswain of the barge, were come to them, when the boatswain communicated his design of recovering the ship that very night. To this they all agreed with the greatest resolution.

It began then to be very dark, being 10 P.M. when the boatswain went to sound the ship's company, and on the forecastle there were about 30 men: he then in a plain but prudent manner disclosed the secret, and soon convinced them both of the facility and necessity of putting his scheme immediately in practice: accordingly, the first step was to get up all the irons or bilboes on the forecastle; he then sent for the 20 pistols, which were all loaded: he next ordered three men upon the grand magazine, and two to that abaft; and the remainder, who had no pistols, to stay by the bilboes, and secure as many prisoners as he should send. This disposition being made, he went directly down on the deck, where he divided his small company into two parties; and, one going down the main, the other the fore hatchway, they soon secured eleven or twelve of the ringleaders, and sent them up to the forecastle without the least noise. The two parties then joined, and went directly to the great cabin, where they secured Couchman, and the lieutenant of marines, with the carpenter, whom they immediately confined in different parts on board.

Thus was the ship bravely rescued by the intrepidity and prudence of a few honest men, after she had been about thirty hours in the possession of a poor unhappy man, who appears to have been utterly unfit for so daring an enterprise, and in his unfortunate condition very penitent.

The boatswain (Roger Winket) was afterwards rewarded with three hundred pounds a year, as master-attendant of Woolwich yard.

John Place was charged with being very active in the mutiny. The gunner deposed that the said Place came to him as he lay sick in his cabin, with a drawn cutlass and a cocked pistol, and swore that he would murder him if he did not deliver to him the key of the magazine. He made no defence, but submitted to the mercy of the court.

John Place, after sentence, wrote letters of religious exhortation to his brothers in affliction. His letter to Mr. Couchman upbraids him with having been the murderer of those who were condemned with him, by first seducing them from their duty― exhorts him not to attempt to screen himself by imputing his guilt to others― and concludes, "I freely forgive you, though you are the cause of my death, as you know full well: and I would have you act with a becoming resignation to the will of God; and not, by mean hopes of life, lose an opportunity to secure a blessed eternity. ―Despise life (as I do, with God's assistance), and die like a man."

ANSWER.

"Mr. PLACE,

"You will die like a villain!

S..Couchman."

The Court found the following guilty, who were executed in manner hereafter mentioned: --

On the 14th of July, Samuel Couchman, first lieutenant of marines, Shot.

July 14, John Morgan, second lieutenant of marines; Shot.

July 24, Thomas Knight, carpenter. John Place, carpenter's mate. John Meeks, seaman. William Anderson, seaman. John Reed, quarter-master. Thomas Scott, seaman. Hanged.

Captain Dudley was tried for "neglect of duty, in keeping a number of his officers on shore, at Cape-Coast Castle, when the ship was seized," and acquitted.

Others of the ship's company, also tried for mutiny, were acquitted.

On the 26th of June, 1749, James Colvin, late boatswain's mate on board the Richmond man of war, was hanged at Portsmouth, for mutiny.

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41: John Mills

His Father and Brother were hanged, and he suffered a similar Fate on Slendon Common, Sussex, 12th of August, 1749

THIS monster was another son of Richard Mills, who was executed for murder. He was concerned in the murder of the custom-house officers, but escaped for a time the slow but unerring hand of justice. He was also one of that gang of villains who most daringly broke open the custom-house at Poole; and yet was he reserved to make atonement for a fresh murder, equally as cruel as that with which his father and brothers had imbrued their hands.

John Mills and some associates, travelling over Hindheath, saw the judges on their road to Chichester to try the murderers of Chater and Galley; on which young Mills proposed to rob them; but the other parties refused to have any concern in such an affair. Soon after his father, brother and their accomplices were hanged, Mills thought of going to Bristol, with a view to embarking for France; and having hinted his intentions to some others they resolved to accompany him, and stopping at a house on the road they met with one Richard Hawkins, whom they asked to go with them; and when the poor fellow hesitated, they put him on horseback behind Mills, and carried him to the Dog and Partridge, on Slendon Common, which was kept by John Reynolds.

They had not been long in the house when complaint was made that two bags of tea had been stolen, and Hawkins was charged with the robbery. He steadily denied any knowledge of the affair; but this not satisfying the villains, they obliged him to pull off his clothes; and, having likewise stripped themselves, they began to whip him with the most unrelenting barbarity; and Curtis, one of the gang, said he did know of the robbery, and if he would not confess he would whip him till he did; for he had whipped many a rogue, and washed his hands in his blood. These bloodthirsty villains continued whipping the poor wretch till their breath was almost exhausted; while he begged them to spare his life, on account of his wife and child. Hawkins drawing up his legs to defend himself in some measure from their blows, they kicked him on the groin in a manner too shocking to be described, continually asking him what was become of the tea. At length the unfortunate man mentioned something of his father and brother; on which Mills and one Curtis said they would go and fetch them; but Hawkins expired soon after they had left the house.

Rowland, one of the accomplices, now locked the door; and, putting the key in his pocket, he and Thomas Winter (who was afterwards admitted evidence) went out to meet Curtis and Mills, whom they saw riding up a lane leading from an adjacent village, having each a man behind him. Winter desiring to speak with his companions, the other men stood at a distance while he  asked Curtis what he meant to do with them, and he said to confront them with Hawkins. Winter now said that Hawkins was dead, and begged that no more mischief might be done; but Curtis replied: "By G--! we will go through it now." But at length they permitted them to go home, saying that when they were wanted they should be sent for.

The murderers now coming back to the public-house, Reynolds said, "You have ruined me"; but Curtis replied that he would make him amends. Having consulted how they should dispose of the body, it was proposed to throw it into a well in an adjacent park; but this being objected to, they carried it twelve miles, and having tied stones to it, in order to sink it, they threw it into a pond in Parham Park, belonging to Sir Cecil Bishop; and in this place it lay more than two months before it was discovered.

This horrid and unprovoked murder gave rise to a Royal proclamation, in which a pardon was offered to any persons, even outlawed smugglers -- except those who had been guilty of murder, or concerned in breaking open the custom-house at Poole - - on condition of discovering the persons who had murdered Hawkins, particularly Mills, who was charged with having had a concern in this horrid transaction. Thereupon William Pring, an outlawed smuggler, who had not had any share in either of the crimes excepted in the proclamation, went to the Secretary of State and informed him that he would find Mills if he could be assured of his own pardon; and added that he believed he was either at Bath or Bristol. Being assured that he need not doubt of the pardon, he set out for Bristol, where he found Mills, and with him Thomas and Lawrence Kemp, brothers, the former of whom had broken out of Newgate, and the other was outlawed by proclamation. Having consulted on their desperate circumstances, Pring offered them a retreat at his house near Beckenham, in Kent, whence they might make excursions and commit robberies on the highway.

Pleased with this proposal, they set out with Pring, and arrived in safety at his house, where they had not been long before he pretended that, his horse being an indifferent one, and theirs remarkably good, he would go and procure another, and then they would proceed on the intended expeditions. Thus saying, he set out, and they agreed to wait for his return; but instead of going to procure a horse he went to the house of Mr Rackster, an officer of the excise at Horsham, who, taking with him seven or eight armed men, went to Beckenham at night, where they found Mills and the two brothers Kemp just going to supper on a breast of veal. They immediately secured the brothers, by tying their arms; but Mills, making resistance, was cut with a hanger before he would submit. The offenders were conducted to the county jail for Sussex, and, being secured till the assizes, were removed to East Grinstead, where the brothers Kemp were tried for highway robberies, convicted, sentenced and executed.

Mills, being tried for the murder of Hawkins, was capitally convicted, and received sentence of death, and to be hanged in chains near the place where the murder was committed.

After conviction he mentioned several robberies in which he had been concerned, but refused to tell the names of any of his accomplices, declaring that he thought he should merit damnation if he made any discoveries by means of which any of his companions might be apprehended and convicted.

The country being at that time filled with smugglers, a rescue was feared; wherefore he was conducted to the place of execution by a guard of soldiers; and when there prayed with a clergyman, confessed that he had led a bad life, acknowledged the murder of Hawkins, desired that all young people would take warning by his untimely end, humbly implored the forgiveness of God, and professed to die in charity with all mankind.

After execution he was hanged in chains on Slendon Common.

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42: Thomas Neale and William Bowen

Highwaymen; (The former a most hardened Sinner, who died cursing the Spectators of his Execution, August 12, 1749.)

IT must, on the perusal of these volumes, have been observed that the unfortunate subjects of the different cases reported have generally been not only guilty of the crime for which they suffered, but of many others, and often more heinous ones. The reader, too, must have frequently felt indignant at the fool-hardy protestations of innocence, with the rope of death suspended over them, of numbers whose guilt had been most incontestably proved. We shudder at the very idea of a sinner departing this world, and his soul journeying to the next, accompanied by the wicked lie with which the breath fled.

Some malefactors will have been found, affecting to brave the terrors of death merely, to gratify the few moments of life left, in exultation of the unnatural reflection of having boldly launched themselves into eternity, and that succeeding felons might hereafter say (to use a Newgate phrase) "he died game!"

Of the very worst description of hardened villains was that whose crimes we are about to bring to view -- a wretch callous to hope and fear, and who died mocking his God, and cursing his fellow-creatures!

The proclamation of peace occasioning the discharge of many seamen, Neale was paid off, and bringing his wages to London, he soon wasted his money in the most dissipated manner, and in the worst of company; and then had recourse to the dangerous practices of a footpad robber.

On a particular occasion he stole a tankard from an inn in Hertfordshire, for which he was apprehended, and lodged in the county gaol, and, being tried at the next assizes, was capitally convicted; but obtained a pardon, on the condition of transporting himself for seven years, through the interest of the late duke of Cumberland.

Having given bail thus to transport himself, he entertained no thought of fulfilling the contract; but, immediately associating with Bowen and other villains, they committed a variety of robberies in the vicinity of London.

William Bowen was a native of Londonderry, in Ireland. His parents, who kept an inn, and lived respectably, proposed that he should succeed them in their business; but an attachment to bad company led him astray from the paths of duty.

His father dying just before he came of age, left him the inn, on the condition of his supporting his mother, a brother, and two young sisters: but the young man, deaf to every prudent consideration, associated with people whose circumstances were much superior to his own, to the neglect of that business which would have supported the family.

Aware of the decay of his trade, and the consequent ruin that stared him in the face, he came over to London with all the cash he could secure, and fell in company with people who assisted him to spend his money; and, when that was gone, he entered on board a ship as a common sailor.

The seamen having received their wages, Bowen got into company with his old associates and some women of ill fame, with whom he spent his last shilling, and then had recourse for support to the perpetration of robberies in the neighbourhood of London, particularly near Stepney and Mile-End.

One of Bowen's companions being apprehended for picking pockets, he and others joined to rescue him, as the peace-officers were conveying him to Newgate in a coach.

The public being alarmed by this daring rescue, Bowen did not think it safe to stay in London; and having heard that his brother, then a seaman, was at Liverpool, he went thither in search of him: but, on his arrival, he learnt that, having received a large sum as prize- money, he had sailed, to see his friends in Ireland.

Bowen immediately wrote to Londonderry; but, not having a letter in return, he came to the metropolis in the most distressed circumstances; when, going to a house where he had formerly lodged, he was informed that Neale had been to inquire for him; and on the following day Neale came to see him, in company with a man named. Vincent.

After drinking together, Neale said to Bowen, "Come and take a ride with me." Bowen said he had no money, but the other told him that would soon be procured. On this Neale went out to borrow him a pair of boots; while Bowen went with Vincent to his lodgings, where the latter gave him a hanger and a pair of pistols, which Bowen concealed under a great coat; and then all the parties met at an alehouse in Southwark, whence they went to an inn, and hired horses, on the pretence of going to Gravesend; instead of which they went towards Kingston, where Vincent had a relation who belonged to the Oxford Blues.

In their way they purchased a whip for Bowen, and loaded their pistols. On their arrival at Kingston they went to a public-house, and, sending for Vincent's kinsman, they all dined together, and drank themselves into a state of perfect intoxication.

Having paid their reckoning, they mounted their horses, determined on the commission of robbery; and, meeting a gentleman named Ryley, Bowen pulled him from his horse, and in the same instant quitted his own. Mr. Ryley ran off; but Bowen following him, threw him down, and, kneeling on his breast, the other entreated that he would not hurt him. Bowen threatened his instant destruction if he did not quietly submit; and, having robbed him of his watch and money, bade him run after his horse, which had quitted the place on Neale's whipping him; and, in the interim, Vincent watched, lest any person should come up to interrupt him.

The highwaymen now rode towards London, and when they, came near Wandsworth determined to go to Fulham, and thence to town by the way of Hyde-park Corner. Having divided the booty (except a thirty-six shilling piece, which Bowen secreted) at the Greyhound inn, near Piccadilly, they supped and slept at that house.

In the morning they told the landlord that they wanted to go towards Highgate, but were not well acquainted with the road. As they had been good customers, the landlord begged to treat them with half a pint of rum; and then went a little way with them to show them the nearest road.

Having arrived at Highgate, they drank at that place, and then determined to proceed to Barnet, at which place they put up their horses, and called for rum and water, of which they swallowed such quantities that Vincent and Bowen fell fast asleep.

In the mean time Neale endeavoured to secrete a silver pint mug; but, being detected in the attempt, he was taken before a magistrate, and loaded pistols being found on him, orders were given that his companions should likewise be taken into custody, and all of them were lodged in the county gaol.

At the, next assizes an order was made for their discharge (as nothing appeared against them), on their giving security for their good behaviour. For this purpose they wrote to London to procure bail; but Mr. Ryley, hearing that three men of doubtful character were in the gaol of Hertford, went thither, and immediately knew that they were the parties by whom he had been robbed. Hereupon a detainer was lodged against them, and, they were removed for trial at the Surrey assizes, previous to the holding of which Vincent was admitted an evidence fore the crown. His testimony corroborating that of Mr. Ryley, Neale and Bowen were found guilty, and sentenced to die.

Being lodged in the New Gaol, Southwark, Bowen was taken ill, and continued so till the time of his execution, He behaved with some degree of resignation to his fate; but was violent in his exclamations against Vincent, on account of his turning evidence.

Neale evinced no concern on account of his unhappy situation; but behaved in a manner more hardened than language can express. At the place of execution he paid no regard to the devotions, but laughed at the populace while he played with the rope which was to put a period to his life, After the cap was drawn over his face, he put it up again, and addressed the people in the following shocking terms: ―"I shall very soon see my Lord Balmerino. He was a very good friend of mine; so that is what I had to say, and d―n you all together." He then drew the cap over his eyes, and was launched into eternity.

Henceforth let honour's path be trod,

Nor villains seek in vain

To mock the sacred laws of God,

And give their neighbours pain."

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43: Benjamin Neale

Executed at Surrey, August 12, 1749, for burglary.

HOUSE-BREAKING is a desperate species of robbery. Those who engage in it may be fitly compared to Satan, who, in an inauspicious hour, broke into the garden of Eden, stripped our first parents of their innocence, and filled the world with violence and rapine. Thieves and robbers are of their father the devil, and the work of their father they will do; but all such enjoy short and unsatisfying pleasure, to which long woe frequently succeeds: and, in the mean time, while such persons are carrying on  their depredations on the public, they cannot but at times, unless entirely hardened, be subject to the stings of an accusing conscience, which severely condemns the guilty. The terrors of an agonizing conscience have, in many instances, been so intolerable, that the atrocious offender, unable to support the violence of divine wrath, has often laid violent hands on himself; but this desperate expedient will prove at length, to all such, only the beginning of sorrows in the world to come.

Benjamin Neale was a hardened sinner,. whose fate exhibits a melancholy instance of the danger of mixing in dissolute company. He was the son of an apothecary and surgeon at Extel, in Warwickshire, who, having, many children to provide for, apprenticed Benjamin to a baker in a large business, at Coventry.

During his apprenticeship his conduct was very reprehensible, for he would frequently stay out whole nights, and return to his master's house in the morning in a state of intoxication.

With some difficulty he served to the end of his time, when several of the inhabitants of Coventry recommended it to his father to put him into business, and promised to deal with him; and the father enabled him to begin the world in a creditable manner. For a considerable time he had such success in business, that he became the principal baker in the place; and he married the daughter of one of the aldermen, with whom he received a good fortune, and would soon have been a rich man if he had paid a proper attention to his business: however, it was not long after he received his wife's fortune before he began to give himself such airs of consequence as rendered him disagreeable to his wife, and made the servants look on him as a perfect tyrant.

To this behaviour succeeded a neglect of his business, which visibly declined, while he frequented cock-pits and horse-races, it was in vain that his father and his wife remonstrated on the impropriety of this conduct, and represented its inconsistence with the life of a tradesman: he continued his courses till his character was lost, and he was reduced to labour as a journeyman baker.

Unable to submit with decency to a fate which he had brought on himself, he wandered about the country, picking up a casual and doubtful subsistence. Returning one night to Coventry, he found his mother, his wife, and child, in company. He demanded money, but they refusing to supply him, he threatened to murder them, and was proceeding to put his threats into execution, when their cries alarmed the neighbours, and prevented the perpetration of the deed; but this affair had such an effect on his wife that she was seized with a fever, which soon put a period to her life.

This disaster did not seem to make any impression on his mind, for, travelling soon after into Staffordshire, he married a second wife; but, returning to Coventry, he privately sold off his effects, and left the poor woman in circumstances of great distress. It was not long after this before he commenced highwayman, and committed a variety of robberies on different roads, and at length became a house-breaker, which brought him to a fatal end.

At Farnham, in Surrey, lived a gentleman of fortune, named Newton, at whose house Neale thought he might acquire a considerable booty, and, in pursuance of this plan, he broke into the house at four o'clock in the morning, and, forcing open a bureau, he stole several bank-notes, an East-India bond, between fifty and sixty pounds in money, some medals of gold, and several valuable articles.

Mr. Newton no sooner discovered the robbery than he sent off a messenger, with a letter to his brother in London, requesting that he would advertise the loss, and stop payment of the notes. When Neale had committed the robbery, he likewise proceeded towards London, and, when he came to Brentford, offered some water-men three shillings and sixpence to row him to town; but this they refused, and Neale had no sooner got into another boat which was putting from the shore, than the messenger arrived at Brentford; and the watermen, having entertained a suspicion of Neale, asked the man if he was in pursuit of a thief, and, he replying in the affirmative, they pointed to the boat in which Neale was sitting.

On this the messenger hired another boat, and having overtaken him, found him wrapped up in a waterman's coat. The criminal being conducted before a magistrate, the stolen effects were found in his possession: on which he was ordered for commitment, and conveyed to Newgate the same day.

When the assizes for Surrey began, he was sent to Guildford, where he was capitally convicted, and sentenced to die. After conviction his behaviour was such as might have been expected from one who was too hardened to repent of crimes which he could not hesitate to commit. His conduct was so totally improper for his situation, that even the keepers of the gaol seemed to be shocked at his want of feeling, and advised him to amend his manners: but their advice was lost on one of the most abandoned of the human race.

[Note: We could wish to caution housekeepers to look every evening about their houses, and particularly in their bedchambers, for lurking thieves, who often steal in unobserved about twilight, and lie concealed until they find an opportunity of plundering, and perhaps murdering, the family in their sleep. The following anecdote, among many similar circumstances which we have met with, may serve to strengthen our admonition: Mrs. Lewis, who kept a public-house at Hilsea, near Portsmouth, was alarmed, on going to bed, by observing the feet of a man below the window curtain; at the same moment her young child, who slept with her, cried for beer, and, with a happy presence of mind, she answered, that she would go down stairs, and bring it drink. This fortunate pretence afforded her an opportunity of alarming her neighbours, who entered the house, and seized the villain, with a razor in his hand, with which he most likely meant to have cut her throat. It is remarkable that this woman's husband was, a few years before, shot by a robber of the name of Williams, who was executed for the murder, and his body at the time hanging in chains on South-sea common, adjoining Portsmouth.]

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44: Hugh Dawson and John Gammell

Executed on Kennington-common, August 22, 1749.

THE repeated comments we have made on the effects of idleness, extravagance, and drunkenness, in bringing such numbers to the gallows, would render repetition tedious and unnecessary. For this reason we pass over many cases without observation; but there are crimes resulting from some of those vices, without any particular circumstances arising in the short career of villainy to an untimely fate.

If this description of criminals are those we are now about to bring forward; yet in the character of Dawson there is a wicked attempt to brave his fall, but which the more immediate approach of death happily turned to the fear of God.

Dawson was an Irishman, and born of respectable parents, his father having been a bookseller in Londonderry. Gammell was a Scotchman, of Greenock, and both were lazy worthless fellows.

The father of Dawson, finding his son would settle to no business in his own country, sent him to sea. After the first voyage he remained some time at home, and did not seem to entertain any further thoughts of going to sea; but, falling in love with a young woman in the neighbourhood, she promised him marriage, but advised him to follow his former occupation some time longer.

In consequence of this advice he went again to sea, and on his return from each voyage visited his favourite girl; but at length it was discovered by her parents that she was pregnant by her lover. Alarmed by this circumstance, they proposed to Dawson's father to give him a fortune proportioned to what they would bestow on their girl; but this the old man obstinately refused, though the son earnestly entreated him to accede to the proposal.

Hereupon young Dawson left his parents, swore he would never again return home, and went once more to sea. Having made some voyages, the vessel in which he sailed put into the harbour of Sandwich; on which Dawson quitted a sea-faring life, and married a girl of fortune, who bore him two children, which were left to the care of her relations at her death which happened six years after the marriage.

On this event Dawson went again to sea, and was in several naval engagements. When his ship was paid off he went to Bristol, where he was arrested for a debt he had contracted. At this period he heard of the death of his father, and that his mother's affection for him was in no degree diminished; on which he wrote her an account of his situation; and she sent him fifty pounds, which relieved him from his embarrassments.

Having procured his liberty, he went to London, and marrying the widow of a seaman, who possessed some money, they lived in harmony a considerable time, till, making a connexion with dissolute companions,  he commenced the practices which led to his ruin.

Gammell, who had been a ship-mate with Dawson, was one of these companions, add, being now out of employment, advised him to go on the highway. He hesitated for some time; but, having drank freely, his resolution failed him, and he agreed to the fatal proposal.

These accomplices dressed themselves as sailors, and, concealing bludgeons under their jackets, knocked down the persons they intended to rob, and stripped them of their effects.

The robbery which cost them their lives was committed near New-
cross turnpike, on a gentleman named Outridge, from whom they took his money, and watch, and treated him with great barbarity. Being pursued by some people whom Mr. Outridge informed of the robbery, Dawson was overtaken and confined; and, having given information where Gammell  lodged, he likewise was apprehended; and both of them being conveyed to the New Gaol, Southwark, they mutually recriminated on each other.

On the approach of the assizes for Surrey, the prisoners were carried to Croydon, where they were both tried, and capitally convicted. After passing sentence, Dawson was visited by a Roman Catholic priest, who intimated that he had heard he was of the Romish religion; but the, other said he would die in the Protestant faith, in which he had been educated: but notwithstanding this declaration, and his regular attendance on the forms of the Protestant mode, there was reason to conclude that he was a Catholic, from a paper that was found in his cell after his death.

On the night preceding the execution the behaviour of Dawson evinced the distraction of his mind. He was visited by his wife, who had been sitting some time with him, when the turnkey came, and intimated that he must retire; on which he refused to go, and knocked the fellows down; but, others of the keepers coming, he was secured. His wife would now have taken a final leave of him; and he said if she did not depart he would murder her.

As the keepers were conducting him through the courtyard to his cell, he called to the other prisoners, saying, Holla! my boys! Dawson is to be hanged to-morrow."

The prisoners were conveyed to the place of execution in the same cart; and, when there, Dawson expressed his hope of salvation through the merits of Jesus Christ, and declared he died in charity with all men: Gammell addressed the surrounding multitude, particularly hoping. that his brother seamen would avoid the commission of such crimes as led to his deplorable end, He hoped forgiveness from all whom he had injured, and acknowledged that he fell a victim to the equity of the laws.

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45: Robert Cox

Late Captain's Clerk of the Royal George Man-of-War. Executed at Winchester, 1st of September, 1749, for Forging Seamen's Tickets

THIS man was tried on several indictments: the first for stealing a certain obligation, called "a seaman's ticket," the property of Benjamin Berry; the others for forgery in endorsing the same.

When ships-of-war return from a long foreign station the crews are generally turned over to others, fit for service; and upon these occasions each man is delivered a warrant, signed by the principal officers, under whom he served, and which is called a seaman's ticket; in fact, it is a negotiable property when endorsed, like a note of hand or bill of exchange; but, because the men should not be tempted to sell their tickets under price, instead of being put into their possession they are sent with them to the captain of the ship to which they are turned over, and lodged in his hands till they are ordered to some other ship, and then these tickets are still sent with them. In this manner, the Glasgow man- of-war being laid up, part of her crew were turned over to several ships successively, and at length to the Royal George.

Soon after the peace was agreed upon, these men were of course discharged, and the tickets put into the hands of their proper owners; but those of Mr Berry and twelve seamen more were missing, and no account could be given of them. They immediately laid the fact before the Lords of the Admiralty, by way of petition, who wrote to Captain Harrison, to know the reason why the petitioners were refused their tickets. The Captain answered the letter, but was unable to give any reason, or to say more than that they could not be found. Upon which the Lords of the Admiralty thought fit to mulct the wages due to the men out of Captain Harrison's pay, who, now feeling most sensibly the case of the poor sailors, made more immediate inquiry after the lost tickets, and accordingly advertised for them, with a reward to any person who should make a discovery.

Mr Cullen, who formerly kept the inn called the India Arms, at Gosport, deposed that the identical tickets so advertised were deposited with him by the prisoner, Robert Cox, as security for twenty guineas, which he had lent him; and that on the appearance of the advertisement Cox came to him to beg he would take his bond for the twenty guineas and give him up the tickets. But the witness refused so to do; telling him if he came honestly by them he might immediately sell them, and, out of what they brought, pay him the sum lent; but that if he had not come honestly by them it was fit the truth should be known. Upon this, the witness continued, Cox went his way, and the witness hastened to give information to Captain Harrison.

Upon the trial of the first indictment no proof could be adduced that the prisoner stole the tickets, and he was accordingly acquitted; but the second was fatal to him: for it was fully proved that he forged the name of Berry to the tickets, was found guilty, and received sentence of death. He suffered at Winchester, in September, 1749.

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46: Bosavern Penlez

Executed for rioting, 18th October, 1749

THIS unhappy youth (for he can hardly be deemed a malefactor) was the son of a native of the island of Jersey, who, having been educated at Oxford, entered into orders; and, having obtained a small church preferment, settled near Exeter, where his unfortunate son was born.

His father dying while he was young, he was placed as an apprentice to a barber and peruke-maker at Exeter, by the stewards of the Sons of the Clergy. Having served his apprenticeship with the highest reputation for good character and sobriety, he came to London, and lived in several places with the utmost credit, till a circumstance equally unpremeditated and unforeseen occasioned his destruction.

On Saturday, the 1st of July, 1749, three seamen belonging to the Grafton man of war, having called at a house of ill fame in the Strand, were there robbed of their watches, a bank-note value twenty pounds, four moidores, and thirty guineas.

The seamen demanded a reparation for their loss; instead of which some bullies belonging to the house pushed them from the door; whereupon they went away, denouncing vengeance; and, having collected a number of their companions in the neighbourhood of Wapping, they returned at night, broke open the house, turned the women almost naked into the streets, ripped up the beds, threw the feathers out of the window, broke the furniture in pieces, and made a bonfire of it.

Having proceeded to behave in a similar manner at another house of ill fame, a party of the guards was sent for, and the mob for the present dispersed.

On the following day. being Sunday, immense numbers of people crowded to see the ruins of the infamous houses; and on this day Bosavern Penlez went to the house of Mr. Pearce, in Wych Street, where be had left some clothes; and, when he had cleaned himself, he visited an acquaintance named Taylor, with whom he drank at a public house, dined, and spent the afternoon.

In the evening Penlez walked in Somerset Gardens, and, at eight o'clock, went back to his friend Taylor, who being engaged with company, Penlez declined staying, and proceeded to meet an acquaintance at the Horseshoe, near Temple Bar. Having drank some beer with him, be was returning to his lodgings, when he unfortunately met with another acquaintance, who told him it was his birth-day, and begged he would drink some punch with him.

This request being complied with, Penlez became quite intoxicated; and, in his way home, found a mob at the door of the Star tavern, near Temple Bar, endeavouring to destroy what the seamen had left undemolished. Many of the people got into the house, and did great damage; and Penlez, with John Wilson and Benjamin Launder, was taken into custody.

Being brought to trial at the next sessions at the Old Bailey, the witnesses were Peter Wood (the landlord), his wife, and one Reeves, their servant, who positively swore to the commission of the facts alleged in the indictment.

To discredit their testimony, Mr. John Mixon, the collector of the scavenger's rate, deposed that he did not think the oath of Mr. or Mrs. Wood was to be taken, and that he would not hang a cat or a dog on their evidence. He added, that the house they kept was of the most notorious ill fame; that the rates were paid in the name of Thompson; that Wood and his wife had been often prosecuted for keeping a disorderly house; and that the neighbours were afraid to appear against them.

In the course of the trial Wood swore "that the mob amounted to about seven hundred people; that eight or ten of them came into his parlour, among whom were Wilson and Penlez; that they broke the partition with their sticks, pulled out the pieces with their hands, destroyed all the furniture in the parlour, and threw it into the street, broke down his bar, and knocked him down on the stairs;" with many other circumstances, tending to prove the riot, and that the prisoners were concerned in it.

Several persons of reputation appeared to the character of the prisoners; but the positive evidence against them induced the jury to convict Penlez and Wilson; but Launder was acquitted.

The inhabitants of the parish of St. Clement Panes, and many individuals, made great interest to save these unfortunate youths, in consequence of which Wilson was reprieved, but Penlez was ordered for execution.

It is said that the king was disposed to have pardoned them both; but that Lord Chief Justice Willes, before whom they were tried, declared in council that no regard would be paid to the laws except one of them was made an example of. Our account informs us that the king still inclined to pardon them both, and that the chief justice was three times sent for and consulted on this occasion; but that he still persisted in his former opinion.

[It is a well-known fact that Lord Chief Justice Willes was a steady assertor of the dignity of the law. It could not be supposed that he could have any prejudice against the convict; and it must he concluded that his opinion arose from a regard to the public weal.]

After conviction Penlez behaved in such a manner as evidently testified the goodness of his disposition, and the little probability there was of such a man committing a wilful premeditated crime. It is not in language to describe how much he was pitied by the public. Every one wished his pardon, and wondered, without considering the necessity that there was for an example, that he was not spared.

When the day of execution arrived be prepared to meet his fate with the consciousness of an innocent man, and the courage of a Christian. The late Sir Stephen Theodore Janssen, Chamberlain of London, was at that time sheriff; and a number of soldiers being placed at Holborn Bars, to conduct Penlez to Tyhurn (as a rescue was apprehended), the sheriff politely dismissed them, asserting that the civil power was sufficient to carry the edicts of the law into effectual execution.

This unhappy youth was executed at Tyburn on the 18th of October, 1749.

The worthy inhabitants of St. Clement Danes, who had been among the foremost in soliciting a pardon for Penlez, finding all their efforts ineffectual, did all possible honour to his memory, by burying him in a distinguished manner in a churchyard of their parish, on the evening after his unfortunate exit, which happened in the twenty-third year of his age.

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47: Ann Flynn

A Sad Case with a Humorous Sequel

ANN FLYNN was indicted at the Old Bailey for stealing from a butcher in Whitechapel a shoulder of mutton. It appeared in evidence that, the prosecutor being busy with his customers on a Saturday night, the prisoner availed herself of that opportunity, and carried away the shoulder of mutton. She was, however, soon seized and brought back, and, an officer being sent for, she was carried before a magistrate, and committed for trial. These facts being proved, the prisoner was called upon for her defence; and she told a tale of woe that penetrated every heart. She acknowledged the robbery; but solemnly declared she was urged to it by the most afflicting distress. Her husband had been ill and unable to earn a shilling for twelve weeks, and she was driven to the last extremity, with two infant children. In that deplorable situation, continued the unfortunate woman, while the tears ran down her wan cheeks, she desperately snatched the shoulder of mutton― for which she had already been confined five weeks.

The jury found her guilty, with a faltering accent; and the recorder immediately replied, "Gentlemen, I understand you," and sentenced her to be fined only one shilling and discharged, which the jury themselves paid, but the officer of the prison gave it to her.

This case, if the extremity of the law had been resorted to,  was felony.

As soon as she was taken away, the prosecutor addressed the Court, and said that the constable had done him more injury than the thief; for though Sir William Parsons, the magistrate that committed her, had ordered him to take care of the shoulder of mutton, he thought fit to cook it for his own dinner, and to sit down and eat it.

[This new complaint, as might naturally be supposed, excited not a little the risible muscles of the Court.]

The constable was immediately called upon to account for his conduct, who said: "My Lord, I did take care of it, as ordered; I kept it whilst it was worth keeping, and if my wife and I had not eaten it, the dogs must have dined on it."

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1750

48: Captain Clarke, R.N.

Convicted and condemned to be hanged for the Murder of Captain

Innis, in a Duel, and pardoned, 12th of June, 1750

THE Captains Innis and Clarke were commanders under Admiral Knowles― the first of the Warwick, and the latter of the Canterbury, line-of-battle-ships, of sixty-four guns each― when he obtained a victory over a Spanish fleet of equal force, and took from them the Conquistadore, and ran their Vice-Admiral on shore, where she blew up, the rest escaping under favour of the night. It was the opinion that had the Admiral availed himself of an opportunity which at one time presented of bringing up his fleet to bear at once upon the enemy the whole might have been taken.

The issue of this battle was therefore unsatisfactory to the nation, and the Admiral was called to account for his conduct before a court martial, held on board the royal yacht, the Charlotte, at Deptford, which sat during nine days.

The opinion of the Court being unfavourable to the Admiral caused a divided opinion among the officers. It did not, however, affect the personal bravery of that commander, but, on the contrary, as appeared in evidence, he displayed the greatest intrepidity, exposing his person to imminent danger, after his ship was disabled; but it appears that in maneuvring, previous to the engagement, he had not availed himself of an advantage, by which neglect it was begun by four of his, when six might have been brought up. The Court therefore determined that he fell under the 14th and 23rd Articles of War― namely, the word "negligence"; for which they sentenced him to be reprimanded. This sentence caused much ill blood among the officers. The Admiral had already been called out twice in duels with his captains, and had received more challenges of the same kind; but Government, being apprised of the outrages, put a stop to them by taking the challengers into custody.

Captain Clarke, it appears, had given evidence on the trial of the Admiral which displeased Captain Innis to so great a degree that he called him "a perjured rascal," and charged him with giving false evidence. This was certainly language worse to be borne by an officer than rankling wounds, or even death. Captain Clarke, being apprised that Innis in this way traduced and vilified him in all companies, gave him a verbal challenge, which the other accepted.

On the 12th of August, 1749, early in the morning, these gentlemen, attended by their seconds, met in Hyde Park. The pistols of Captain Clarke were screw-barrelled and about seven inches long; those of Captain Innis were common pocket-pistols, three inches and a half in the barrel. They were not more than five yards distant from each other when they turned about, and Captain Clarke fired before Captain Innis had levelled his pistol. The ball took effect in the breast, of which wound Captain Innis expired at twelve o'clock the same night. The coroner's jury found a verdict, of wilful murder against Captain Clarke, on which he was apprehended, brought to trial at the Old Bailey, found guilty, and sentenced to death. The King, in consideration of his services, and the bravery he displayed in fighting his ship under Admiral Knowles, was pleased to grant him a free pardon.

There were other circumstances in this unfortunate rencounter which were favourable to Captain Clarke, for his firing on turning round, and his pistol being larger than that of Captain Innis, was not deemed unfair by the sanguinary rules of duelling; for Captain Innis might have provided, himself with a large pair had he pleased. But what pleaded powerfully on his behalf was the expressions of the dying man, who acquitted and forgave him. When a soldier seized Captain Clarke, the former asked the wounded man what he should do with him, to which he faintly answered: "Set him at liberty, for what he has done was my own seeking."

On the 1st of June, 1750, being the last day of the sessions of the Old Bailey, Captain Clarke, among the other convicts, was brought up to receive sentence of death, when he pleaded his Majesty's pardon, which had been then lately sent him, and which being recorded, he was discharged.

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49: Margaret Harvey

Executed for Privately Stealing

MRS. HARVEY was a native of the city of Dublin, and descended from parents of reputation, by whom she was educated in a very decent manner. She married the valet of a nobleman when she was only sixteen years of age; and her husband, soon afterwards, procuring a lieutenant's commission on board a man-of-war, sailed in the service of his country.

Returning after an absence of six months, he became extremely jealous of his wife; but we have no account that he had then any cause for such jealousy. Be this as it may, he treated her with such severity that she left him, in apprehension that her life was in danger.

Some of her relations afforded her present support; but, when they began to think her troublesome, she went to her parents, who received her with the utmost affection: but her husband had art enough to persuade her father that she had no good cause to have left him; on which the old man insisted on her returning to her duty as a wife.

When she was again at home with him he treated her no less cruelly than heretofore; and, on a particular occasion, without any previous quarrel, he cut her on the arms and head with a hanger, so that she carried the marks to the grave; yet still she continued to love him with unabating affection.

At length, when she was on a visit, in company with several other women, and complaining of the cruelty of her husband, they recommended her to avenge herself by quitting him, and putting herself under the protection of a gentleman who knew her situation, pitied her case, and would be proud to become her benefactor.

Fatally for her repose, she listened to this advice, and went to live with the stranger; on which her husband left Dublin, and set out for London.

The man who had thus been the indirect means of seducing her from her duty soon grew tired of her company, and quitted her, leaving her in circumstances of utter distress.

In this dilemma she determined to go in search of her husband, and solicit his forgiveness; and, with this view, sailed for England, and travelled to London; but her inquiries after him proving fruitless, she went into service in Marylebone Street, and remained about four months in that station.

When the fireworks were exhibited in St. James's Park, on occasion of the peace with France, she was permitted to go and see the extraordinary sight; and, while she was a spectator of that magnificent show, some women and seamen entered into conversation with her; and, going to a public-house, they spent the night and following day in intemperance.

Ashamed now to return to her service, she took a lodging in St. Giles's, and, becoming acquainted with some women of ill fame, who were supported by sailors who visited them, she soon became as abandoned in manners as her associates.

Some Irish seamen being acquainted with her, she went with them to Wapping; and, having drank very freely, she was met on her return home by a gentleman, who took her to a tavern, where she found means to rob him of his gold watch; but, being taken into custody that night, she was lodged in the Round-house, and committed to Newgate the following day.

Being brought to trial at the Old Bailey sessions, she was capitally convicted; but, pleading that she was with child, she was respited till the year 1750, when sentence of death was passed on her.

While in this distressed situation, she acknowledged that she should not have pleaded being with child, but that she had hopes of obtaining a pardon on condition of transportation; and on the arrival of the warrant for her execution she wrung her hands, cried exceedingly, and lamented the misfortunes which first induced her to come to London.

On the morning of her execution she was visited by some of her countrywomen, who, having privately brought in some brandy, induced her to drink such a quantity of it, that she died in an absolute state of intoxication; though before this circumstance she had exhibited every real sign of penitence and contrition.

She was executed at Tyburn on the 6th of July, 1750.

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50: James Cooper

Executed for murder, August 26th, 1750

THIS man was the son of a butcher at Lexton, in Essex; and his father, who had wholly neglected his education, employed him in his own business when he was only ten years of age. Having lived with his father till he was twenty-two, he then married, and opened a shop at Colchester, where he dealt largely as a butcher, and likewise became a cattle-jobber.

At the end of thirteen years, Cooper, through neglect, found his losses so considerable that he could no longer carry on business; and, one of his creditors arresting him, he was thrown into the King's-Bench prison; but, as his wife still carried on trade, he was enabled to purchase the rules. Soon after this, the marshal of the King's Bench dying, he was obliged to pay for the rules a second time.

He now sued for an allowance of the groats; and they were paid him for about a year, when, through neglect of payment, he got out of prison, and took a shop in the Mint, Southwark, where he carried on his business with some success, his wife maintaining the family in. the country.

[The groats: By 23d George II. debtors, after being a certain time in prison, might claim the benefit therein imposed upon the plaintiff in the suit on which they were confined; being fourpence (a groat) per day; and in default of any one weekly instalment they were entitled to their discharge; but the expense of moving the Court to this end was generally too great for the prisoner to bear.]

At length he was arrested by another creditor, and waited two years for the benefit of an act of insolvency. On his going to Guildford, to take the benefit of the act, he found that the marshal had not inserted his name in the list with those of the other prisoners; and, having informed his creditor of this circumstance, the marshal was obliged to pay debt and costs, the debtor was discharged, and the marshal fined one hundred pounds for his neglect.

Cooper having now obtained his liberty, and his wife dying about the same time, and leaving four children, he sent for them to London; and, not long afterwards, married a widow, who had an equal number of children.

He now, unfortunately, got acquainted with Duncalf and Burrell, the former a notorious thief, and the latter a soldier in the guards; and these men advising him to commence robber, he fatally complied with their solicitations; and the following is an account of a number of robberies which they committed.

Between Stockwell and Clapham they overtook two men, one of whom, speaking of the probability of being attacked by footpads, drew a knife, and swore he would kill any man who should presume to molest them. The parties all drank together on the road, and then proceeded towards London, when Cooper threw down the man who was armed with the knife, and took it from him, and then robbed him and his acquaintance of a watch, about twenty shillings, and their handkerchiefs.

Their next robbery was on Mr. James, a tailor, whom they stopped on the road to Dulwich, and took from him his watch and money. He gave an immediate alarm, which occasioned a pursuit; but the thieves effected their escape. Two of the three robbers wearing soldiers' clothes, Mr. James presumed that they were of the guards; and, going to the Parade in St. James's park, he fixed on two soldiers as the parties who had robbed him.

As it happened that these men had been to Dulwich about the time that the robbery had been committed, they were sent to prison, and brought to trial; but were acquitted.

The accomplices in iniquity being in waiting for prey near Bromley, Duncalf saw a gentleman riding along the road; and, kneeling down, he seized the bridle, and obliged him to quit his horse, when the others robbed him of his watch and two guineas and a half.

Meeting soon afterwards with a man and woman on one horse, near Farnborough, in Kent, they ordered them to quit the horse, robbed them of near forty shillings, and then permitted them to pursue their journey. Soon after the commission of this robbery they heard the voices of a number of people who were in pursuit of them: on which Cooper turned about, and they passed him, but seized on Burrell, one of them exclaiming 'This is one of the rogues that just robbed my brother and sister!'

On this Burrell fired a pistol into the air, to intimidate the pursuers, among whom were two soldiers, whom Duncalf and Cooper encountering at this instant, one of them was so dangerously wounded by his own sword, which Duncalf wrested from his hand, that be was sent as an invalid to Chelsea, where he finished his life.

The brother of the parties robbed, and a countryman, contested the matter with the thieves, till the former was thrown on the ground, where Burrell beat him so violently that he died on tile spot. The robbers now took their way to London , where they arrived without being pursued.

Cooper and Duncalf, the latter being provided with a bag, went once to a farm-house, and stole all the fowls that were at roost; and Duncalf saying, 'The first man we meet must buy my chickens,' they had not travelled far before they met with a man whom they asked to buy the fowls. He said he did not want any; but they seized his horse's bridle, knocked him down, and robbed him of above twelve pounds, with his hat and wig, watch and great coat.

On one of their walks towards Camberwell they met a man of fortune, named Ellish, whose servant was lighting him home from a club. Putting pistols to the gentleman's breast, his servant attempted to defend him; on which they knocked him down with a bludgeon; and the master still hesitating to deliver, they threw him to the ground, and robbed him of his money, watch, and other articles; and, tying him and his servant back to back, threw them into a ditch, where they lay in a helpless manner till a casual passenger released them from their disagreeable situation.

The villains now returned towards London. In their way, meeting a man with a sack of stolen venison, they robbed him of his great coat and thirty-six shillings; and, a few nights afterwards, they robbed a man of a few shillings on the Hammersmith road, and destroyed a lantern which he carried, that be should not be able to make any pursuit after them.

On their return home they met a man on horseback, whom they would have robbed; but, turning his horse suddenly, he rode to Kensington turnpike, and gave an alarm, while the thieves got through a hedge, and concealed themselves in a field. In the interim, the man they had robbed of a few shillings brought a number of people to take the thieves; but, not finding them, though within their hearing, the man went towards his home alone; but the rogues, pursuing him, took a stick from him, and beat him severely for attempting to raise the country on them.

Immediately afterwards they hastened towards Brompton, and stopped a gentleman, whom they robbed of his watch and money. The gentleman had a dog, which flew at the thieves; but Cooper, coaxing the animal into good humour, immediately killed him.

Their next expedition was to Paddington, where they concealed themselves behind a hedge, till, observing two persons on horseback, they robbed them of their watches, great coats, and twelve guineas; and though an immediate alarm was given, and many persons pursued them, they escaped over the fields as far as Hampstead Heath, and came from thence to London.

Soon afterwards they stopped a gentleman between Kingsland and Stoke Newington, who whipped Duncalf so that he must have yielded, but that Cooper at the instant struck the gentleman to the ground. They then robbed him of above seventeen pounds, and, tying his hands behind him, threw him over a hedge, in which situation he remained till some milkmen relieved him on the following morning.

Meeting a man between Knightsbridge and Brompton, who had a shoulder of veal with him, they demanded his money; instead of delivering which, the man knocked Cooper down three times with his veal, but the villains, getting the advantage, robbed the man of his hat and meat, but could find no money in his possession.

Cooper being incensed against the person who had first arrested him, who was Mrs. Pearson, of Hill Farm, in Essex, determined to rob her; on which he and his accomplices went to the place, and, learning that she was on a visit, waited till her return at night; when they stopped her and her servant, and robbed them of eight guineas.

On the following day Mrs. Pearson went to a magistrate, and charged a person named Loader with having committed the robbery; but it appearing that this man was a prisoner for debt at the time, the charge necessarily fell to the ground.

Cooper and his associates meeting a farmer, named Jackson, in a lane near Croydon, he violently opposed them: on which they knocked him down, and, dragging him into a field, robbed him of his watch and money, tied him to a tree, and turned his horse loose on a common.

For this robbery two farriers, named Shelton and Kellet, were apprehended; and, being tried at the next assizes for Surrey, the latter was acquitted, but the former was convicted on the positive oath of the person robbed, and suffered death.

The three accomplices, being out on the road near Dulwich, met two gentlemen on horseback, one of whom got from them by the goodness of his horse; and the other attempted to do so, but was knocked down, and robbed of his watch and money. In the interim, the party who had rode off, whose name was Saxby, fastened his horse to a gate, and came back to relieve his friend: but the robbers first knocked him down, and then shot him.

Having stripped him of what money he had, they hastened towards London: but a suspicion arising that Duncalf was concerned in this robbery and murder, he was taken into custody on the following day; and, Cooper being taken up on his information, Burrell surrendered, and was admitted an evidence for the crown.

William Duncalf was a native of Ireland, and had received a decent education. He was apprenticed to a miller, who would not keep him on account of his knavish disposition; and, being unable to procure employment in Ireland, he came to London, where he officiated as a porter on the quays.

Extravagant in his expenses, and abandoned in principle, he commenced smuggler: but, being taken into custody by the custom-house officers, be gave information against some other smugglers; by which he procured his discharge, and was himself made a custom-house officer.

A variety of complaints respecting the neglect of his duty having been preferred to the commissioners of the customs, he was dismissed, and once more commenced smuggler. Among his other offences, he alleged a crime against a custom-house officer, who was transported in consequence of Duncalf's perjured testimony.

We have already recounted many of his notorious crimes, in conjunction with his accomplices above mentioned: but he did not live to suffer the punishment that he merited; for he had not been long in prison before the flesh rotted from his bones, and he died a dreadful monument of the Divine vengeance, though not before he had acknowledged the number and enormity of his crimes.

Cooper frequently expressed himself in terms of regret that a villain so abandoned as Burrell should escape the hands of justice. In other respects his behaviour was very resigned, and becoming his unhappy situation. He acknowledged that he had frequently deliberated with Burrell on the intended murder of Duncalf, lest he should become an evidence against them: but he now professed his happiness that this murder had not been added to the black catalogue of his crimes.

When brought to trial he pleaded guilty, and confessed all the circumstances of the murder; and, after sentence was passed  against him, appeared to be a sincere penitent for the errors of his past life.

Being visited by a clergyman and his son, who had known him in his better days, he was questioned respecting the robbery of Mrs. Pearson, which he denied; but he had no sooner done so than he was seized with the utmost remorse of mind, which the gaoler attributed to the dread of being hung in chains; and, questioning him on this subject, he said that he was indifferent about the disposal of his body, but wished to communicate something to the clergyman who attended him; and, when he had an opportunity, confessed that his uneasiness arose from the consciousness of having denied the robbery of Mrs. Pearson, of which he was really guilty.

Cooper suffered on Kennington Common, August 26, 1750.

Few offenders commit such a number of crimes as this man did before they are called to answer for them at the most awful tribunal. From his fate we may learn that a continuance in villainy is so far from affording security, that it effectually leads to ruin.

Habits of vice are not easily shaken off; and those of virtue are equally apt to remain with us. What a lesson does this afford for the practice of early piety, which will essentially influence all our future lives!

Parents should remember that an education strictly religious is the best foundation for their children's future conduct in life.

What bless'd examples do we find

Writ in the word of truth,

Of children that began to mind

Religion in their youth!

On the contrary, how many instances do we meet with, in which the want of a religious education is productive of every vice!

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51: James Maclane

Called "The Gentleman Highwayman." Executed at Tyburn, 3rd ofOctober, 1750, for Highway Robbery

THE subject of this memoir was descended from a reputable family in the north of Scotland. His father, after being liberally educated in the University of Glasgow, went to settle at Monaghan, in the north of Ireland, as preacher to a congregation of Dissenters. He married and had two sons, the elder of whom was bred to the Church, and preached many years to the English congregation at The Hague, and was equally remarkable for his learning and the goodness of his heart. The younger son was the unfortunate subject of this narrative.

As a young man James was very extravagant, and after dissipating a fortune left by his father he came to London, and married the daughter of Mr Macglegno, a horse-dealer, with whom he received five hundred pounds, with which he commenced business as a grocer in Welbeck Street, Cavendish Square, and supported his family with some degree of credit till the expiration of three years, when his wife died, bequeathing two infant daughters to the care of her parents, who kindly undertook to provide for them; and both these children were living at the time of their father's ignominious death.

Hitherto Maclane's character among his neighbours was unimpeached; but soon after the death of his wife he sold off his stock-in-trade and furniture and assumed the character of a fine gentleman, in the hope of engaging the attention of some lady of fortune, to which he thought himself entitled by the gracefulness of his person and the elegance of his appearance.

At the end of about six months he had expended all his money, and became greatly dejected in mind from reflecting on that change of fortune that would probably reduce him to his former state of servitude. While in this state of dejection an Irish apothecary, named Plunkett, visited him and inquired into the cause of his despondency. Maclane acknowledged the exhausted state of his finances, candidly confessing that he had no money left, nor knew any way of raising a shilling but by the disposal of his wearing apparel; in answer to which Plunkett addressed him as follows:--

"I thought that Maclane had spirit and resolution, with some knowledge of the world. A brave man cannot want; he has a right to live, and not want the conveniences of life while the dull, plodding, busy knaves carry cash in their pockets. We must draw upon them to supply our wants; there needs only impudence and getting the better of a few idle scruples; there is scarce any courage necessary. All whom we have to deal with are mere poltroons."

These arguments, equally ill founded and ridiculous, co-operated so forcibly with the poverty of Maclane that he entered into conversation with Plunkett on the subject of going on the highway; and at length they entered into a solemn agreement to abide by each other in all adventures, and to share the profit of their depredations to the last shilling.

The first robbery these men committed was on Hounslow Heath, where they stopped a grazier, on his return from Smithfield, and took from him about sixty pounds.

This money being soon spent in extravagance, they were induced to take a ride on the St Albans Road, and seeing a stage-coach coming forward they agreed to ride up on the opposite sides of the carriage. Maclane's fears induced him to hesitate; and, when at length Plunkett ordered the driver to stop, it was with the utmost trepidation that the other demanded the money of the passengers.

On their return to London at night Plunkett censured him as a coward, and told him that he was unfit for his business. This had such an effect on him that he soon afterwards went out alone, and unknown to Plunkett; and, having robbed a gentleman of a large sum, he returned and shared it with his companion.

A short time only had elapsed after this expedition when he stopped and robbed the Honourable Horace Walpole, and his pistol accidentally went off during the attack. For some time he continued this irregular mode of life, during which he paid two guineas a week for his lodgings and lived in a style of elegance, which he accounted for by asserting that he had an estate in Ireland which produced seven hundred pounds a year.

The speciousness of his behaviour, the gracefulness of his person and the elegance of his appearance combined to make him a welcome visitor, even at the houses of women of character; and he had so far ingratiated himself into the affections of a young lady that her ruin would probably have been the consequence of their connection but that a gentleman, casually hearing of this affair, and knowing Maclane to be a sharper, interposed his timely advice and saved her from destruction.

On the 26th of June, 1750, Plunkett and Maclane, riding out together, met the Earl of Eglinton in a post-chaise, beyond Hounslow, when Maclane, advancing to the post-boy, commanded him to stop, but placed himself in a direct line before the driver, lest his lordship should shoot him with a blunderbuss, with which he always travelled, for he was certain that the peer would not fire so as to endanger the life of the post-boy. In the interim Plunkett forced a pistol through the glass at the back of the chaise, and threatened instant destruction unless his lordship threw away the blunderbuss.

The danger of his situation rendered compliance necessary, and his lordship was robbed of his money and a surtout coat. After the carriage drove forward, Maclane took up the coat and blunderbuss, both of which were found in his lodgings when he was apprehended; but when he was afterwards tried for the offence which cost him his life, Lord Eglinton did not appear against him.

Notice of their next robbery -- of a stage-coach -- was given in the newspapers, and the articles stolen were described; yet Maclane was so much off his guard that he stripped the lace from a waistcoat, the property of one of the gentlemen who had been robbed, and happened to carry it for sale to the laceman of whom it had been purchased. He also went to a salesman in Monmouth Street, named Loader, who attended him to his lodgings, but had no sooner seen what clothes he had to sell than he knew them to be those which had been advertised; and pretending enough to purchase them said he that he had not money would go home for more; instead of which he procured a constable, apprehended Maclane, and took him before a magistrate.

Many persons of rank of both sexes attended his examination, several of whom were so affected with his situation that they contributed liberally towards his support.

Being committed to the Gatehouse, he requested a second examination before the magistrate, when he confessed all that was alleged against him. At his trial the jury brought him in guilty without going out of court. A youth who had been condemned, but was afterwards ordered to be transported for life, chose to continue in the cell with Maclane; and, as they had opportunity, they went among the other prisoners who were ordered for execution, to instruct them, pray with them, and assist them in their preparation for death. But Maclane was greatly shocked at the insensibility and profaneness of some, and pitied the souls which were going into eternity in so hopeless a state.

Arrived at Tyburn, he looked sadly up at the gallows, and with a heartfelt sigh exclaimed: "O Jesus!"

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52: Amy Hutchinson

Executed at Ely, 7th of November, 1750, for Petit Treason, in the

Murder of her Husband

THE Isle of Ely gave birth to this malefactor. At the age of sixteen she was grown a tall fine girl; at which time she was addressed by a young man, whose love she returned with equal affection. Her father, being apprised of the connection, strictly charged his daughter to decline it; but there was no arguing against love: the connection continued till it became criminal.

The young fellow began to grow tired of her, and declared his resolution of going to London, but said that he would wed her on his return. Shocked at this apparent infidelity, she determined on revenge. The former lover had no sooner left her than she was addressed by a young man named John Hutchinson, and, though he had been always extremely disagreeable to her, she agreed to marry him the very next day after he had paid her a formal visit.

The consequence was that the marriage took place immediately; but her admirer happening to return from London, just as the newly wedded pair were coming out of church, the bride was greatly affected at the recollection of former scenes, and the irrevocable ceremony which had now passed.

She was unable to love the man she had married, and doted to distraction on him she had rejected; and only a few days after her marriage admitted him to his former intimacy with her: a circumstance that gave full scope to the envious tongues of her neighbours.

Hutchinson becoming jealous of his wife, a quarrel ensued; in consequence of which he beat her with great severity; but this producing no alteration in her conduct he had recourse to drinking, with a view to avoid the pain of reflection on his situation.

In the interim his wife and the young fellow continued their guilty intercourse uninterrupted; but, considering the life of her husband as a bar to their happiness, it was resolved to remove him by poison; for which purpose the wife purchased a quantity of arsenic; and Mr Hutchinson being afflicted with an ague, and wishing for something warm to drink, the wife put some arsenic in ale, of which he drank very plentifully; and then she left him, saying she would go and buy something for his dinner.

Meeting her lover, she acquainted him with what had passed; on which he advised her to buy more poison, fearing thefirst might not be sufficient to operate; but its effects were fatal, for he died about dinner-time on the same day. The deceased was buried on the following Sunday, and the next day the former lover renewed his visits; which occasioned the neighbours to talk very freely of the affair. The young widow was taken into custody the same day, on suspicion of having committed a murder.

The body of the deceased being now taken up, the coroner's jury was summoned, and the verdict they gave was that John Hutchinson had died by poison: on which the woman was committed to the jail at Ely.

She had counsel to plead for her on the trial; but, the evidence against her being such as satisfied the jury, she was convicted, and ordered for execution.

After conviction she confessed the justice of those laws by which she had been condemned. She was attended by a clergyman, to whom she acknowledged the magnitude of her crime, and professed the most unfeigned penitence.

The miserable woman, willing to make atonement for her crimes, left a written paper with the clergyman who attended her in her last moments, on which was the following advice to her own sex:―

"All the good I can now do, after my repentance and abhorrence of my abominable crime, and prayers to God, is:

"First: To warn all young women to acquaint their friends when any addresses are made to them; and, above all, if any base or immodest man dare to insult you, with anything shocking to chaste ears.

"Secondly: That they should never leave the person they are engaged to in a pet, nor wed another to whom they are indifferent, in spite; for if they come together without affection, the smallest matter will separate them.

"Thirdly: That being married, all persons should mutually love, forgive and forbear, and afford no room for busy meddlers to raise and foment jealousy between two who should be one. (Signed) "AMY HUTCHINSON."

Note: see the next case (John Vicars) for a description of her execution.

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53: John Vicars

Executed at Ely, 7th of November, 1750, for the Murder of his Wife, after first witnessing the Strangling of a Woman for murdering her Husband

JOHN VICARS'S grandfather and father were born at Oxford, and lived in good credit, till misfortunes obliged them to go to Dodington, in the Isle of Ely. His father dying and leaving  him young, and his mother taking a second husband, he had but a slight education. At thirteen he was apprenticed to Mr J. Aaron, of Holkham, Norfolk, gardener to Thomas Coke, Esq. (now Earl of

Leicester), where he served his time faithfully, and was employed in the gardens, till an intrigue with a married woman obliged him to leave that place. Having a recommendation to Mr Bridgman, gardener at Kensington, he went and worked some time there, and then engaged himself to Captain Duroy, of the Exeter man-of-war, and served him about nine months. Being paid off, he assisted in a party of smugglers about a year, and being taken prisoner, with others, by a custom-house smack, near Rye, was committed to the New Jail, in Southwark, tried, and acquitted by the indulgence of the Court. He then was employed in the Earl of Oxford's gardens at Chelsea, under Mr Miller, where he stayed one year.

Falling into company with one Anne Easom, he made love to her and married her. They lived seven years very happily, but had no children. About that time she began to be very much afflicted with illness, which altered her temper so much that it occasioned frequent uneasiness between them, and gave him such disgust that he enlisted in the Duke of Bedford's regiment as a six months' man, where he continued about a year, and then came to his wife again and lived with her till her death, which happened about twelve months after. He continued a widower about a year, in which time, observing one Mary Hainsworth to keep a great deal of company, he asked her one evening if they were all her sweethearts; she replied no. He then offered himself, met with great encouragement, and from that time he was refused no favours. But he had no intention of marriage, nor did he promise any such thing. They continued a criminal familiarity for a fortnight, all which time she pressed him to marry her. He told her there was no occasion for her to be in such a hurry; but she replied she was with child, and if he would not marry her she would get a warrant and force him. He said he should not care to be forced to do anything against his will; on which she replied, if he would not marry her she would certainly make away with herself. He then kept away for two or three nights, to see how she would behave. In the meantime came a hackney-coachman to town, with whom she seemed to be so very much taken that a woman who worked in Vicar's garden told him that he had lost his sweetheart. He said he was glad of that, thinking he had got a good riddance. But he was not so fortunate; for two or three nights after this the coachman left the place; on which she flung herself in his way and, he says, he was so simple as to renew their former acquaintance, but not on the score of marriage, which she well knew, and agreed readily to keep him company. But after two or three nights she threatened him again with a warrant if he would not marry her.

At last, his affections growing stronger on her repeated assurance that she would make him a careful and industrious wife, he unfortunately married her; but not till he had earnestly desired that if there was any other person for whom she had a greater respect than himself she would consider of it, for when once married it would be too late. This unhappy woman had learned the glover's business, which she followed, and they lived very lovingly for about two months; but after that time, he says, words frequently arose between them, occasioned by her adhering to bad advice given her by her mother, and others, by some of whom, she owned to him, she was advised to poison him. From words they came to blows, to which she provoked him, though he entreated her to forbear. At length she went away from him to live with her mother, and notwithstanding the most earnest entreaties refused to return.

One day, going by her mother's house with some fruit, and seeing his wife there, he went in, offered her some fruit, and forced a kiss from her, desiring to be reconciled. Her mother came in and, after giving loose to her tongue in a virulent manner, fell to beating him, swearing she would kill him, and advising his wife, who had a knife in her hand, to stab him, which she endeavoured to do; but he, feeling something against his belly, ran backwards to the door, and fell upon the threshold, with the old woman upon him. He rolled her off, and, getting up, found his thumb cut, a hole in his shirt, and the skin ruffled; then, thinking himself in great danger, went home. But his mother-in-law and his wife swore the peace against him, and had a warrant to take him up.

Upon 24th of April, therefore, to prevent their serving it, he went to a gentleman's about three miles from Whittlesea, to beg his advice, which was to make a bill of sale of his goods and go off. He resolved to do so, and came back to Whittlesea about six o'clock the same evening. By the way, on seeing his wife in the new shop which her mother had provided for her, his heart beat with love for her, but on the thought of her obstinacy, and that his life or ruin was what they aimed at, by laying him in jail, his resentment got the better of his reason.

Stepping into the shop where she was sitting at work, and placing his left hand under her chin (he apprehended she thought he was going to kiss her, because she seemed to smile) and drawing his knife out of his pocket with his other hand, he made an attempt to cut her throat, but was prevented by her putting her hands up when she felt the knife. He then placed the point of the knife under her left ear, the back part upwards, and stuck it downward as they stick sheep. She once cried: "Murder!" He said: "Molly, it is now too late, you should have been ruled in time." He then ran into the street and called out for somebody to take him prisoner, but everyone was afraid; on which he threatened if they did not he would do more mischief; on which one Thomas Boone took hold of his arm, and he surrendered himself; but appeared as a lunatic till next day, when he was very calm.

This account was signed by himself, and it being reported that he had committed more murders, he further desired it might be explained as follows.

While he was gardener to R. Man, Esq., the garden was often robbed, on which his master set him to watch one night, armed with a gun and a hanger, and fixed a trap at the supposed place of entrance. The thief came, and soon saw reason to run off; but Vicars cut him in the leg with his hanger; besides which he was so unfortunate as to be taken in the trap, the teeth of which, reaching about the middle of his body, struck into him, so that, being carried before a justice and committed to Maidstone jail, he  soon after died of his wounds; "but this I apprehend," says he, "cannot be deemed a murder."

While in prison he said that he dearly loved his wife, but her provocation was so great that he could not let her live, nor live without her, he first intending to kill himself also. He persisted in it that he should do the same again on such provocation, though he injured many in the same way without reluctance.

Vicars at the tree behaved very steadily, but penitent, praying with the minister and singing Psalm VI. A woman named Amy Hutchinson, who had been convicted for the murder of her husband, was present to be strangled and burnt for her crime, and Vicars expressed a desire to see her dispatched first.

Accordingly, her face and hands being smeared with tar, and having a garment daubed with pitch, after a short prayer the executioner strangled her, and twenty minutes after the fire was kindled, and burned half-an-hour. He went then to Vicars, who very undauntedly helped him to fix the knot, and immediately threw himself off, and expired in a few minutes.

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54: John Carr

The Victim of Swindlers himself, he became a Pirate and Smuggler, and was executed at Tyburn, 16th of November, 1750, for Forgery

JOHN CARR was a native of the north of Ireland. His parents were respectable, and his education was genteel. At sixteen years of age he was sent to reside with a kinsman in Dublin. When he grew to years of maturity his kinsman put him into business as a wine and brandy merchant, and he seemed to be on the road to success; but his friend dying, he attached himself to bad company, neglected his business, lost his customers and was soon greatly reduced in his circumstances.

A man of fortune who was one of his abandoned associates invited Carr to pass part of the summer at his seat in the country, and setting out together they stopped at Kilkenny, where some passengers quitted a coach; among whom was a young lady, whose elegant person and appearance impressed Carr with an idea that she was of rank, and inspired him with the first sentiments of love that he ever felt.

Throwing himself from his horse, he handed her into the inn; and a proposal being made that the company should sup together it was agreed to on all hands; and while the supper was preparing, Carr applied himself to the coachman, to learn the history of the young lady; but all the information he could obtain was that he had taken her up at Dublin, and that she was going to the Spa at Mallow.

Carr, being anxious to become better acquainted with the lady, prevailed on the company to repose themselves the next day at Kilkenny, and take a view of the Duke of Ormond's seat, and the curiosities of the town. This proposal being acceded to, the evening was spent in the utmost harmony and good humour; and the fair stranger, even then, conceived an idea of making a conquest of Mr Carr, from whose appearance she judged that he was a man of distinction.

In the morning she dressed herself to great advantage, not forgetting the ornament of jewels, which she wore in abundance; so that when she entered the room, Carr was astonished at her appearance. She found the influence she had over him, and resolved to afford him an early opportunity of speaking his sentiments; and while the company was walking in the gallery of the Duke of Ormond's palace this opportunity offered.

The lady affected displeasure at this explicit declaration, but soon assuming a more affable deportment she told him she was an Englishwoman of rank; that his person was not disagreeable to her, and that if he was a man of fortune, and the consent of her relations could be obtained, she should not be averse to listening to his addresses. She further said that she was going to spend part of the summer at Mallow, where his company would be agreeable.

He followed her to that place, contrary to the advice of his friend, who had formed a very unfavourable opinion of the lady's character.

Here he dissipated so much cash in company with this woman that he was compelled to borrow of his friend, who remonstrated on the impropriety of the connection: but Carr still kept her company, and at the end of the season returned with her to Dublin.

Here the lovers agreed to sail for England, and Carr sold some small estates, and, borrowing all the money he possibly could, delivered the whole to his mistress.

Preparations were now made for the voyage, and Carr employed himself in procuring a passage to England; but in his absence the lady shipped all the effects on board a vessel bound for Amsterdam; and, having dressed herself in man's apparel, she embarked and sailed, leaving Carr to regret his ill-judged credulity.

On his return home, discovering how he had been robbed, he was at first half-distracted with his loss; but, on cooler reflection, he thought it would be in vain to pursue the thief; on which he sold the few trifles that remained of his property, which produced about a hundred pounds, and came to London, and soon spent the whole in debauchery and extravagance.

Thus reduced, he enlisted as a foot soldier, and served some years before he was discharged; after which he entered as a marine at Plymouth, whence he came to London, and opened a shop in Hog Lane, St Giles's. He now married a girl who he thought had money, but soon discovering her poverty he abandoned her, and removed to Short's Gardens, where he entered into partnership with a cork-cutter.

Having soon ingratiated himself into the esteem of the customers, he opened a shop on his own account, and soon got all the business from his late partner. This, however, proved of no service to him, for, getting into bad company, he frequented the gaming-tables and became the dupe of sharpers.

These villains, determined to possess themselves of all his money, offered to procure him a wife of fortune, though they knew he had a wife living, and actually contrived to introduce him to a young lady of property; and a marriage would probably have taken place but that one of them, struck with remorse of conscience, developed the affair to her father and frustrated the whole scheme; and soon afterwards Carr's companions quitted him, having reduced him to the last shilling.

Having been entrusted by a gentleman with a draft on the bank for sixty pounds, he received the money and spent it all in the lowest scenes of debauchery, and again entered as a marine.

There being something in his deportment superior to the vulgar, he was advanced to the rank of sergeant, in which he behaved so well that his officers treated him with singular regard.

The vessel in which he sailed taking a merchant ship richly laden, and soon afterwards several smaller vessels, the prize-money amounted to a considerable sum; which gave Carr an idea that very great advantages might be obtained by privateering. Thereupon he procured a discharge, and entering on board a privateer was made master-at-arms.

In a few days the privateer took two French ships, one of which they carried to Bristol and the other into the harbour of Poole. Having refitted their ship they sailed again, and in two days took a French privateer, and gave chase to three others which they found to be English vessels belonging to Falmouth, which had been made prize of by a French privateer. These they retook, and carried them into Falmouth, in their passage to which place they made prize of a valuable French ship, the amount of which contributed to enrich the crew.

On their next trip they saw a ship in full chase of them, on which they prepared for a vigorous defence, and indeed it was necessary, for the vessels fought above forty minutes -- yardarm and yardarm. Many hands were lost by the French, who at length attempted to sheer off, but were taken after a chase of some leagues.

The commander of the English privateer, being desperately wounded in the engagement, died in a few days; on which Carr courted his widow, and a marriage would have taken place, but she was seized with a violent fever which deprived her of life, but not before she had bequeathed him all she was possessed of.

Having disposed of her effects, he repaired to London, where he commenced as smuggler; but on his ill-gotten effects being seized on by the officers of the revenue he took to the more dangerous practice of forging seamen's wills, and gained money for some time. But, being apprehended, he was brought to trial at the Old Bailey, convicted and sentenced to die. He was hanged at Tyburn, on the 16th of November, 1750.

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55: George Anderson alias John Everett

Who picked Pockets at Newgate, became a Highwayman, and was
executed for stealing Ribbons, 31st December, 1750

JOHN EVERETT was a native of Hertford, in which town he served his apprenticeship to a baker. The young men in the neighbourhood declined associating with him, and held him in universal abhorrence, so ungracious were his manners and so strong was his propensity to wickedness.

Upon the expiration of his apprenticeship he connected himself with a gang of notorious gamblers and other dissolute wretches, in conjunction with whom he perpetrated a great number of villainies, but for several years escaped the vengeance of the law.

By persuasions and the promise of a sum of money Everett and a man named Wright induced a young woman to make a charge of felony against two innocent men, who were put on their trial, but happily acquitted, as the perjured evidence was not able to authenticate her accusation. In revenge for their failing to supply the girl with the money they had promised she lodged an information against Everett and Wright, who were in consequence indicted for subornation of perjury, and sentenced to stand in the pillory at the end of Chancery Lane, where they received very severe treatment from the populace.

Soon after the above punishment had been inflicted Everett was tried at Hicks's Hall, and sentenced again to stand in the pillory, for having fraudulently obtained a thirty-six-shilling piece. He was afterwards convicted of having circulated counterfeit Portugal coin, and ordered to be imprisoned for two years in Newgate.

Soon after Everett's trial a company of gentlemen went to Newgate to visit a criminal, and in a short time they discovered that they had been robbed of their handkerchiefs. The circumstance being mentioned to Everett, he pretended to be much surprised, and intimated that there was but little probability of the property being recovered. However in a little time he produced the handkerchiefs, and received some money from the gentlemen as a reward for his supposed honesty.

While he remained in Newgate he picked the pockets of almost every person who came to visit the prisoners. He was continually uttering the most reprobate speeches, and seemed to delight in the practice of every species of wickedness. Upon the expiration of the time he was sentenced to remain in prison he found sureties for his good behaviour for two years, and was discharged.

Having stopped a young gentleman in Fleet Street, he was asked if a robbery was intended, upon which he knocked the gentleman down; but a large dog belonging to the injured party immediately seized the villain, who, with great difficulty, disengaged himself just in time to escape being secured by the watch.

Everett and a woman of the town went to a small inn at Hoddesdon, in Hertfordshire, which was kept by an old widow, and being invited into a room behind the bar, after having each drunk a glass of wine, the widow and her female guest went to walk in the garden. In the meantime Everett broke open a bureau and stole sixty pounds in cash and several gold rings. They kept the widow in conversation till the time of going to bed, in order to divert her from going to the bureau, and the next morning decamped with their booty. They took the road to Nottingham, whence they crossed the country to Newmarket, and then returned to London.

Everett's numerous villainies had rendered his name so notorious that he was fearful of being apprehended, and therefore he went under the name of George Anderson, and lived in a very private manner till the money he had obtained was expended.

He now procured a knife eighteen inches long, and determined to levy contributions on passengers on the highway. On the road between Kentish Town and Hampstead he attempted to rob a countryman; but he being of an intrepid temper a desperate contest ensued, in which Everett proved the conqueror, and dangerously wounded his antagonist, from whom he, however, obtained but a small booty.

At length he was detected in stealing a quantity of ribbons in a shop in London, and was apprehended, but not without making a vigorous resistance, in doing which he dangerously wounded the shopkeeper in the face and hands with a knife.

For this crime he was tried at the Old Bailey, convicted, and received sentence of death. The night after the warrant for his execution arrived he laid a plan to escape. He was furnished with implements for this purpose, and for sawing off his fetters, by his wife and his kept mistress, who, on this occasion, agreed. Being discovered, the former was sent to one of the compters, and his concubine to the other. On this he behaved so insolently and outrageously that it was necessary to chain him to the floor of his cell, where he remained, blaspheming and threatening vengeance to the keeper and turnkeys, until he was brought out for execution.

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56: William Riley

A young Soldier, whose Zeal for Sport led to a Murder, for which he was executed at Tyburn in 1750

WILLIAM RILEY served the greater part of his apprenticeship to a watchmaker at Liverpool, but on his master dying he turned his mind to the sea, and sailed one voyage, which it appears was sufficient to induce him to quit the watery element for the service of the land; and to this end he enlisted into the second regiment of Foot Guards.

Walking matches, now lately revived, were in great vogue. Considerable bets were depending on a man walking three hundred miles in six days― a feat little inferior to Captain Barclay's thousand miles in as many successive hours. This wager was determined in Tothill Fields, Westminster, in favour of the pedestrian.

Riley, also a great walker, was so much interested in the man's success that he undertook to clear the way; but on the last day the crowd became so great that he, in his anxiety, struck several who did not fall back, and among the rest one Sutton, who returned the blow, whereupon a scuffle ensued, and Riley, being thrown down by the mob, drew his sword and stabbed him, of which wound he died, and Riley was found guilty of wilful murder.

After sentence of death he was very penitent, and expressed his deep contrition for taking away the life of a fellow-creature. He was executed, along with George Robins, George Anderson and Thomas Reynolds, when only nineteen years of age.

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57: Thomas Reynolds

Executed at Tyburn, for enlisting soldiers for the service of the king of France.

THIS traitor was a Roman Catholic, born and educated in Ireland. He was an excellent scholar, being master of the Latin and French languages. When a young man, he went over to France, where he enlisted as a Hussar, wearing false whiskers, his beard not yet being grown. On the rebel expedition being fitted out there to invade Scotland, he served an officer, in the capacity of valet, and who was killed at the battle of Culloden. After this he was taken at Carlisle, and from speaking French so very fluently, he was exchanged as a Frenchman.

Being a man of genteel address, he ingratiated himself so far into the good opinion of a rich widow, near Carlisle, as to persuade her to marry him.

He soon left the widow, taking away from her all he could lay his hands upon and returned to France, where he got an appointment in the retinue of the ambassador from that country to the court of St. James's.

Having now some money, he determined on taking a public-house, his master having attended King George on his then visit to Hanover, and left him behind. He then sent for his wife, to attend the bar, while he put in effect a plan which he long had in contemplation, of seducing our soldiers, and enlisting them for the service of France; and in this treasonable practice he was too long successful. The insinuations which Reynolds used, to tempt the soldiers from their loyalty, was to represent the severe punishments in the English army and the lenity of that of the French -- that he had power to enlist for Lord Ogilvie's regiment, one of the finest in the French army; where they would be treated like gentlemen. He gave them abundance of spirituous liquors and sent prostitutes to keep them company, until he found an opportunity of shipping them. He also, contrived, at different times, to send to France English arms and ammunition, which were supposed to be for the purpose of another invasion and rebellion in Scotland. His public-house was in St. Giles's, and frequented by lewd women, and men of abandoned morals. Regarding the once splendid widow, in her present employ of waiting upon such vagabonds;

"O what a falling off was there"

Several soldiers of the guards frequented Reynolds's house, and having already sent off some to France, he began to practise his deceit upon one Carnes, a private soldier in the foot-guards. He persuaded him to take money for this service, and shewed him fourteen or fifteen suits of regimentals, belonging to soldiers whom he had already sent to France. He desired him to cut off his hair, wear a smock frock, and to avoid the large towns, or pass through in the night, on his road to Dover. As a guard over him, he sent one of the prostitutes, many of whom he had at his command, who was to see him shipped, and give him money. Thus he meant to evade the proof of his having enlisted him.

Arrived at Dover, Carnes went to the castle, and disclosed the treason to the Fort Major. The woman, finding this, fled back to London. The Fort Major detained Carnes, and sent information to the War Office. Reynolds, before he could be apprized of this, was seized, his house searched, and different regimental clothing found concealed. He was convicted of the treason, on the clearest evidence, and sentenced to be hanged.

He protested his innocence to the very last moment of his life; and declared that he went to be hanged with as much satisfaction as though again going to be married.

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1751

58: Norman Ross

A footman, executed at Edinburgh, January 8, 1751, for murdering his mistress

This treacherous servant was descended from reputable parents at Inverness, in the north of Scotland, who gave him a good education, and intended that he should be brought up in a merchant's counting-house; but before he had completed his fifteenth year, his father and mother died, leaving Norman and several other children wholly unprovided for.

Norman made application for employment to several merchants; but though he was well qualified for business, his proposals were rejected, because he could not raise the sum usually given upon entering into a merchant's service as an articled clerk.

Thus situated, he engaged himself as a footman to a widow lady of fortune, who on account of having been acquainted with his parent, behaved to him with singular kindness. The lady had a son, who was then a military officer in Flanders; and the campaign there being concluded, the young gentleman returned to his native country, to visit his mother, and transact some business particularly relating to himself.

Observing Ross to possess many qualifications not usual to persons in his situation, he proposed taking him abroad in the capacity of valet-de-chambre; and the old lady acquiesced in her son's desire.

Ross continued in the officer's service for the space of about five years; during which period he behaved with the utmost diligence and fidelity. The regiment being broke, on the conclusion of the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, the officer set out on the tour of France and Italy, and Ross returned to Scotland for the benefit of his native air.

Soon after his return to Scotland, he recovered his health, and set out in order to pay his respects to his former mistress; but learning that she had been dead about three weeks, he repaired to Edinburgh, where he was hired as a footman by an attorney-at-law. Having contracted an intimacy with a number of livery servants, he was seduced by their example to the practices of swearing, gaming, drinking, and other vices; and he was dismissed from his service on account of his impudence and the irregularity of his conduct.

Ross now became footman to Mrs. Hume, a widow lady of great fortune and remarkable piety. In the winter she resided at Edinburgh, and in the summer at a village called Ayton, about four miles from the town of Berwick-upon-Tweed. About four months after he had been hired by Mrs. Hume, the lady removed to her house at Ayton; and some time after, a female servant in the family, with whom he had maintained a criminal intercourse, was brought to bed; and it therefore became necessary for him to supply her with money for the support of herself and the infant.

He continued to provide her with the means of subsistence, from the month of April till August, by borrowing money of his fellow-servants and other persons with whom he was acquainted.

The woman at length becoming exceedingly importunate, and his resources being wholly exhausted, he was driven nearly to a state of distraction, and in that disposition of mind formed the fatal resolution of robbing his mistress.

Mrs. Hume slept on the first floor, in an apartment behind the dining-room, and being unapprehensive of danger, her bedchamber door was seldom locked; and with this circumstance Ross was well-acquainted, as well as that she usually put the keys of her bureau (and the other places where her valuable effects were deposited) under her pillow.

He determined to carry his execrable design into execution on a Sunday night; and waiting in his bed-room, without undressing himself, till he judged the family to be asleep, he descended, and leaving his shoes in the passage, proceeded to his lady's bed-chamber. Endeavouring to get possession of the keys, the lady was disturbed, and being dreadfully alarmed, called for assistance; but the rest of the family lying at a distant part of the bouse, her screams were not heard. Ross immediately seized a clasp-knife that lay on the table, and cut his mistress's throat in a most dreadful manner. This horrid act was no sooner perpetrated, than, without waiting to put on his shoes, or to secure either money or other effects, he leaped out of the window, and after travelling several miles, concealed himself in a field of corn.

In the morning, the gardener discovered a livery hat, which the murderer had dropped in descending from the window; and suspecting that something extraordinary had happened, he alarmed his fellow-servants.

The disturbance in the house brought the two daughters of Mrs. Hume downstairs; but no words can express the horror and consternation of the young ladies, upon beholding their indulgent parent weltering in her blood, and the fatal instrument of death lying on the floor.

Ross being absent, and his shoes and hat being found, it was concluded that he must have committed the barbarous deed; and the butler therefore mounted a horse, and alarmed the country, lest the murderous villain should escape. The butler was soon joined by great numbers of horsemen, and on the conclusion of the day, when both men and horses were nearly exhausted through excessive fatigue, the murderer was discovered in a field of standing corn. His hands being tied behind him, he was taken to an adjacent public-house, and on the following morning he was conducted before a magistrate of Edinburgh, who committed him to prison.

On the trial of this offender, he had the effrontery to declare, that his mistress usually admitted him to her bed, and that it was his constant practice to leave his shoes at the dining-room door. He said, that upon entering the chamber, he perceived the lady murdered, and leaped through the window in order to discover who had perpetrated the barbarous deed; adding, that having lost his hat, he did not chuse to return till evening, and therefore concealed himself among the corn. He was severely reprimanded by the court, for aggravating his guilt by aspersing the character of a woman of remarkable virtue and piety, whom he had cruelly deprived of life.

The law of Scotland bears an affinity to that of the Romans. It invests the judges with power to punish criminals in such manner as they may deem to be proportioned to their offences. This privilege was exercised in the case of Ross, whose crime having been attended with many aggravating circumstances, he was sentenced to have his right hand chopped off, then to be hanged till dead, the body to be hung in chains, and the right hand to be affixed at the top of the gibbet with the knife made use of in the commission of the murder.

Upon receiving sentence of death, he began seriously to reflect on his miserable situation, and the next day requested the attendance of Mr James Craig, one of the ministers of Edinburgh, to whom he confessed his guilt; declaring that there was no foundation for his reflections against the chastity of the deceased.

Six weeks elapsed between the time of his trial and that of his execution, during which he was visited once every day by Mr Craig. He shewed every sign of the most sincere penitence, and refused to accompany two prisoners who broke out of gaol, saying he had no desire to recover his liberty, but on the contrary would cheerfully submit to the utmost severity of punishment, that he might make some atonement for his wickedness.

The day appointed for putting the sentence of the law into force being arrived, Ross walked to the place of execution, holding Mr Craig by the arm. Having addressed a pathetic speech to the populace, and prayed some time with great fervency of devotion, the rope was put round his neck, and the other end of it being thrown over the gallows, it was taken hold of by four chimney-sweepers, who are obliged to assist the executioner whenever they are required. The criminal now laid his right hand upon a block, and it was struck off by the executioner at two blows; immediately after which the chimney-sweepers, by pulling the rope, raised him from the ground; when he felt the rope drawing tight, by a convulsive motion, he struck the bloody wrist against his cheek, which gave him an appearance too ghastly to admit of description. The body was bound in chains, and hung upon a gibbet, the hand being placed over the head with the knife stuck through it.

Continued Vol 2

Table of Contents

- 1741
- 1742
- 1743
- 1744
- 1746
- 1747
- 1748
- 1749
- 1750
- 1751