The Chronicles of Crime or The New Newgate Calendar. v. 1/2 being a series of memoirs and anecdotes of notorious characters who have outraged the laws of Great Britain from the earliest period to 1841. (part 4 of 5)

The Chronicles of Crime or The New Newgate Calendar. v. 1/2 being a series of memoirs and anecdotes of notorious characters who have outraged the laws of Great Britain from the earliest period to 1841. (part 4 of 5)

Their next attempt was to debauch the minds of the soldiers, and to excite them to mutiny; for which purpose a paper was printed, and circulated among a regiment of Fencibles then at Dalkeith. This paper, which was evidently seditious, was brought home to the prisoner, for the types from which it was printed were found in his house, and a copy traced from him into the hands of a soldier.

The next charge to be brought against the prisoner, and the committee of which he was a member, was a distinct and deliberate plan to overturn the existing government of the country. The plan proposed was this:--A fire was to be raised near the Excise-office (Edinburgh), which would require the attendance of the soldiers in the Castle, who were to be met there by a body of the friends of the people; another party of whom were to issue from the West Bow, to confine the soldiers between two fires, and cut off their retreat; the Castle was next to be attempted; the judges (particularly the Lord Justice Clerk) were to be seized; and all the public banks were to be secured. A proclamation was then to be issued, ordering all the farmers to bring in their grain to market as usual; and enjoining all country gentlemen to keep within their houses, or three miles from them, under penalty of death. Then an address was to be sent to his majesty, commanding him to put an end to the war, change the ministers, or take the consequences. Such was the plan of the Committee of Ways and Means, as proposed by the prisoner.

Previous to this, it should have been mentioned that all the friends of the people were to be armed; for which purpose, one Fairley was despatched round the country to levy contributions, and disperse seditious pamphlets; for which he received particular instructions from the prisoner. Reports were spread through the same channel that the Goldsmiths' Hall Association were arming, and that it was necessary for the friends of the people to arm also, for they would be butchered either by them or the French. It was proved that the prisoner gave orders to Robert Orrock to make four thousand pikes; and also to one Brown for the same purpose. These were to be used for completing the great plan; and Fairley's mission was to inform the country of these intended proceedings. Another representative body was also formed, called "collectors of sense and money," who were to have the distribution of the pikes, and to command the different parties.

Mr. Anstruther then recapitulated shortly the different heads, and concluded an elaborate and most clear and distinct pleading of more than two hours and a half, by requesting the jury to lay no farther stress on what he had said than it should be proved, as it was meant merely as a clue to the evidence which should be brought before them. Witnesses were then called who spoke to the facts alluded to by the learned counsel, and who proved to the fullest extent the charge made against the prisoner.

The evidence for the Crown being closed,

Mr. W. Erskine, junior counsel for the prisoner, proceeded to open the defence. He said that he would rest his defence upon the correspondence carried on between the Right Hon. Henry Dundas, the lord-advocate, and the prisoner, by which it would appear that he had attended the meetings of the Friends of the People with no other view than a design to give information of their proceedings. A letter from the prisoner to Mr. Secretary Dundas was read, which stated in substance that, as he did not approve of the dangerous principles which then prevailed in Scotland, and was friend to the constitution of his country, he thought it his duty to communicate to him, as a good subject, what information he could procure of the proceedings of those who styled themselves "Friends of the People." From an acquaintance with several of the leading men among them, he flattered himself he had this in his power; and he then went on to mention some of the names of those leading men in Perth, Dundee, and Edinburgh. In the first of these places, he said, he had been educated, and had resided in the two last for a considerable number of years. It concluded with enjoining secrecy.

To this letter an answer was returned which was also read. It acknowledged the receipt of Mr. Watt's; and after expressing a hope that things were not so bad as he represented, desired him to go on, and he might depend upon his communications being kept perfectly secret. Another letter from Mr. Dundas to Mr. M'Ritchie, the prisoner's agent, was next read in answer to one from Mr. M'Ritchie, requesting of Mr. Dundas what letters he had of the prisoner's. The answer was that all the letters he had received from Mr. Watt had been delivered to the lord-advocate.

The Lord-Advocate being sworn, in exculpation, he gave a distinct account of the transactions which he had had with the prisoner. He had conversed with him several times at his own lodgings; and he had at one time given him some information which he thought of importance. This was respecting the disaffection of some dragoons at Perth, which upon inquiry turned out to be ill-founded. In March 1793, his lordship said an offer had been made to him to disclose some important secrets, provided he would give the prisoner 1000_l._ This he absolutely refused. However, some time after the prisoner having informed him that he was much pressed for money to retrieve a bill of 30_l._, his lordship, who was then in London, not wishing he should be distressed for such a small sum, sent him an order for the payment of it. All this happened previous to the meeting of the convention, since which time he did not recollect to have seen or corresponded with the prisoner.

Upon this evidence it was contended by Mr. Hamilton, that the prisoner was engaged as a spy for government; and it was well known that a spy was obliged to assume not only the appearance of those whose secrets he meant to reveal, but even to take part in their proceedings in order to prevent a discovery. A spy in an army, he said, was obliged not only to assume the uniform of the enemy, but even to appear in arms; and it would be exceedingly hard indeed, if taken in a conflict, that he should be punished for discharging his duty. He concluded with hoping the jury would bring in a verdict finding the charges not proved.

The Lord-President, after clearly defining the laws of treason, summed up the evidence, narrating and explaining the various parts with much candour, and leaving it entirely to the jury to return such a verdict as their judgment should direct.

The jury withdrew about half-past five o'clock in the morning, and in about five minutes returned with a verdict--Guilty.

The trial lasted nearly twenty-two hours.

The case of Downie afterwards came on; and the jury after some time found him guilty, reconciling themselves to this verdict, by unanimously consenting to recommending him to mercy, which they did in a very strong manner.

Shortly after, the following awful sentence of the Court was passed upon these unfortunate men:--

"Robert Watt and David Downie, you have been found guilty of high treason by your peers. The sentence of the Court is, therefore, that you be taken from the place whence you came, from thence you shall be drawn on a sledge to the place of execution, on Wednesday the 15th of October, there to hang by your necks till you are both dead; your bowels to be taken out and cast in your faces; and each of your bodies to be cut in four quarters, to be at the disposal of his Majesty: and the Lord have mercy on your souls!"

The unfortunate prisoners received the dreadful sentence with much firmness and composure, and were immediately conducted to the Castle.

The prisoner Downie subsequently received a respite, and his punishment was changed for that of transportation for life; but Watt was ordered to be executed on the 15th of October.

On the appointed day, therefore, at half-past one o'clock, the two junior magistrates, with white rods in their hands, the Rev. Principal Baird, and a number of constables, attended by the town-officers, and the city-guard lining the streets, walked in procession from the Council-chamber to the east end of Castle-hill, when a message was sent to the sheriffs in the Castle, that they were there waiting to receive the prisoner.

The prisoner was immediately placed on a hurdle, with his back to the horse; and the executioner, with a large axe in his hand, took his seat opposite him at the further end of the hurdle.

The procession then set out from the Castle, the sheriffs walking in front, a number of county constables surrounding the hurdle, and the military keeping off the crowd. In this manner they proceeded until they joined the magistrates, when the military returned to the Castle, and then the procession was conducted to the place of execution.

When they had reached the Tolbooth door, the prisoner was taken from the hurdle, and carried into the prison, where a considerable time was spent in devotional exercise. He then came out upon the platform, attended by the magistrates, sheriffs, Principal Baird, &c.; and after a short time further being spent in prayer, he mounted the drop-board, and was immediately launched into eternity.

When the body was taken down it was stretched upon a table; and the executioner, with two blows of the axe, severed off the head, which was received into a basket, and then held up to the multitude, while the executioner called aloud, "There is the head of a traitor, and so perish all traitors!"

The body and head were then placed in a coffin and removed.

The execution was conducted throughout with the greatest solemnity, and the prisoner appeared to be deeply sensible of the awful situation in which he was placed. He was so emaciated that his appearance was entirely changed since his trial.

Robert Watt was born in the shire of Kincardine, and was at the time of his execution about thirty-six years old. He was the natural son of a Mr. Barclay, a gentleman of fortune and respectability; but like most other children of illegitimate parentage, he was brought up and educated under the name of his mother. He was, at about ten years of age, sent to Perth, where he received a very good education; and at the age of sixteen he engaged himself with a lawyer in that place; but being of a religious disposition, he was disgusted at his profession, and soon withdrew from the desk of his master. Soon after, he went to Edinburgh, and engaged as a clerk in a paper warehouse, where he lived happily and respectably for some years; but having a desire to share in the profits as well as the toils of the business, he wrote to his father, and prevailed upon him to assist him with some money, to enable him to procure a partnership with his master.

He then made proposals to the above purpose, which were, however, rejected by his employer; but being provided with money, he entered into the wine and spirit trade. His success in business continued very promising, until he was almost ruined by the commencement of the war. At this period his acquaintance with the Friends of the People commenced. Its unfortunate termination is already made known to our readers.

ARCHIBALD HAMILTON ROWAN, ESQ.

CONVICTED OF PUBLISHING A SEDITIOUS LIBEL.

Although we do not consider the numerous instances of conviction for the publication of seditious libels, which took place in Dublin about this time, as being strictly within the plan of our work, yet the extraordinary and romantic circumstances attending the escape of Mr. Rowan induce us to give his case insertion. The agitation produced both in England and Ireland, immediately after the French revolution, in which many persons sought to excite the people to follow the example of their Gallic neighbours, produced a number of prosecutions, the recital of which alone would be sufficient to fill our volume.

Among other convictions which took place was that of Mr. Archibald Hamilton Rowan, who was found guilty in the Court of King's Bench, Dublin, on the 29th of January 1794, of publishing in the year 1792 a false, scandalous, and malicious libel against the Government, purporting to be an address from a society called the United Irishmen of Dublin to the Volunteers of Ireland, and signed by Mr. Rowan as their secretary,--an offence for which he was sentenced to be imprisoned for two years, to pay a fine of 500_l._, and to find security in the amount of 4000_l._ for his good behaviour for seven years.

It appears that after about two or three months of the term of imprisonment had expired, William Jackson, a divine of some notoriety in England, and several others were arrested on a charge of high treason, in which it appeared probable that Rowan would be implicated. He therefore determined on effecting his escape; and the manner in which he accomplished it has been thus narrated:--

Having discovered, on the 28th of April 1794, the extent of the danger in which he was involved, he arranged a plan of flight, to be put into execution on the night of the 1st of May. He had the address to prevail on the jailer of Newgate, who knew nothing farther of his prisoner than that he was under sentence of confinement for a political libel, to accompany him at night to his own house. They were received by Mrs. Rowan, who had a supper prepared in the front room of the second floor. The supper over, the prisoner requested the jailer's permission to say a word or two in private to his wife in the adjoining room. The latter consented, on condition of the door between the two rooms remaining open; and he had so little suspicion of what was meditated, that, instead of examining the state of the other room, he contented himself with shifting his chair at the supper-table, so as to give him a view of the open door-way. In a few seconds his prisoner was beyond his reach, having descended by a single rope, which had been slung from the window of the back chamber, into the street. In his stable he found a horse ready saddled, and a peasant's outside coat to disguise him; and with these he posted to the house of Mr. Matthew Dowling, his attorney, who was aware of his design, and was under an engagement to aid him, both by his advice and personal assistance. On his arrival at the attorney's house, he found it full of company; but the host coming to him pointed out the imprudence of his giving him shelter, and directed him to wait for him at the Rotunda, a building in Sackville-street, where he would join him, as soon as he could dispose of his guests. For an hour and a half, tormented by hopes and fears, did the fugitive await the coming of his friend; but Irish gentlemen in those days, as well as in modern times, were not the men to quit their bottle; and it was not until the expiration of that time that Mr. Dowling made his appearance. He at length arrived, however; and after a short and anxious conference, it was determined that it was best for Mr. Rowan to proceed at once to the house of a friend, a Mr. Sweetman, about four miles off, at the north of the Bay of Dublin, whence it was anticipated he might in a day or two make his escape by boat. He accordingly proceeded thither with all possible speed, but three days elapsed before the design could be carried out. Mr. Sweetman's pleasure-boat was then manned by some fellows who lived on the spot, and who undertook to convey their passenger to the coast of France. They put to sea at night; but a gale of wind coming on, they were compelled to put back, and take shelter under the Hill of Howth. They lay there at anchor until the following morning; and they were then about again to proceed on their voyage, when a small revenue cruiser sailing by threw into the boat copies of a proclamation, which had issued, offering a reward of 2000_l._ for the apprehension of the fugitive. The bills were read, but no remark made; and in the bustle attending the getting the little vessel under way, no further notice was taken of them. When they had reached mid-channel, however, a second inspection of them took place, and the unfortunate exile beheld the brows of his crew contracted, as they looked from the printed papers to him, apparently engaged in comparing the description which was given of the fugitive with his person. He knew the generous character of the Irish peasantry. He was himself an Irishman; he knew the loyalty and devotion of their hearts to persons in distress; and he could calculate upon receiving from them, as strangers, that aid which they would not have more readily given to their own brothers. His course was immediately determined upon; he admitted that their conjectures were right--that he was the runaway, Hamilton Rowan; but he added, "You are Irishmen." The answer which he received was characteristic of their country. They gave a cheer, threw the proclamation overboard, and set about hastening their passage to the place of their destination.

On the third morning, a little after daybreak, they arrived in sight of St. Paul de Leon, a fortified town on the coast of Bretagne; and as the sun rose, a thick mist, which had hovered over them, was dissipated, and they discovered, about two miles astern, the British Channel-fleet moving along under easy sail; through which their little vessel had passed unperceived. The party soon effected a landing, and, being seen, were seized and conducted to prison as suspected spies; but, in a few days, their real character being explained, an order from the French Government procured for their liberation; and the honest crew returned to Dublin with their boat, while Mr. Rowan proceeded at once to Paris. In a political convulsion, which subsequently occurred in that city, it was his fate once more to effect his escape in a wherry down the Seine, in which he was unaccompanied by any person; and although the banks of that river were lined with military, he answered their challenges with so much address, that he was permitted to pass unmolested. Having reached a French port, he embarked for the United States of America, and there, unaffected by the political changes of his own country, he continued to live for several years.

At length, the merits of his personal character prevailed against the remembrance of his political aberrations; and an act of royal clemency, generously conceded without any humiliating conditions, restored him once more to his country; where he continued to reside, in the bosom of domestic quiet, and in the habitual exercise of every virtue. He had the satisfaction, too, in his old age, of finding that, in a public point of view, his debt of gratitude to the Crown had not been wholly unpaid. In his eldest son, Captain Hamilton, of the Cambrian frigate, he gave to the British navy one of its most gallant and distinguished commanders.

WILLIAM BUTTERWORTH AND FRANCIS JENNISON.

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

The case of these wretched culprits is so disgusting in its details, that we feel justified in giving it only in as short a form as possible.

At the Hants assizes, in the beginning of August 1794, William Butterworth and Francis Jennison, two convicts at Cumberland Fort, were tried before Mr. Justice Grose and Mr. Baron Thompson, for the murder of Mr. John Groundwater, one of the persons deputed to look after them. The circumstances of this murder were of the most brutal and atrocious nature. These hardened wretches, on being reprimanded by Mr. Groundwater, who threatened to report them for ill-behaviour, swore that they would rip his bowels out; and were heard by another of the convicts debating about the manner of perpetrating the murder. In accordance with a resolution which they arrived at, about six in the evening of the same day, they fell upon him with two iron shovels, with which they had been at work in spreading gravel, and with which they gave him three such wounds on the skull, that his brains fell out in the quantity of a double handful. They then struck down one of the shovels upon his neck, with intent to sever the head from the body, but, striking against the bone, it had not the intended effect. The rest of the convicts ran to the spot, and one of them caught hold of Butterworth, to prevent his mangling the body any more; but, after a struggle, he disengaged himself, ran back to the unfortunate sufferer, and, catching up the spade again, gave him several cuts, saying, "There, damn him, I have done him out and out." On being remonstrated with for his inhuman conduct, he replied that he was transported for life, and he would rather be hanged than suffer that sentence. It is a most extraordinary circumstance, established on the evidence of Mr. Hill, surgeon, who attended him, that Mr. Groundwater lived eighteen hours after he had received these grievous wounds, notwithstanding the brains had fallen out, and a prodigious effusion of blood had taken place. He never spoke after the second blow was given him, but the action of the pulse was strong, and respiration continued during the whole of the eighteen hours above mentioned.

Butterworth, though thus steeled in cruelty, was only nineteen years old; his wretched companion was twenty-five. The publicity of the deed, and the consequent clear evidence of their guilt, would not admit of their setting up any defence. The jury pronounced them guilty; and they were sentenced to be executed in three days after in Lanston Harbour, and their bodies were ordered to be hung in chains in Cumberland Fort.

They were taken from jail at about four o'clock on Monday morning, and reached Portsea about eleven. The number of spectators who crowded to see the execution was immense. Both the prisoners acknowledged that they alone were the persons who committed the murder, exculpating all the other convicts from a participation in this horrid offence. Their behaviour was very penitent, and they seemed to feel sensibly the enormity of their crime. The execution took place about twelve o'clock, and their bodies were afterwards hung in chains, pursuant to sentence, near the spot where the murder was committed.

Both prisoners, it appears, had been convicted of burglary, for which they were sentenced to death, but had been reprieved on condition of their being transported for life. They had been at the hulks only about seven days, when they committed the murder for which they were executed.

ANNE BROADRIC.

INDICTED FOR MURDER.

The case of this unfortunate young woman excited at the time of its occurrence nearly universal pity.

It appeared that Mr. Errington, the object of her attack, was a gentleman of large landed and personal property residing at Grays, in Essex, and his name had become well known from the circumstance of his having been divorced from his wife, a few years before the melancholy event which we are about to relate. About three years after the termination of the proceedings in the Ecclesiastical Courts, he became acquainted with Miss Broadric, who was a young lady possessed of considerable accomplishments, of a fine figure, and in personal charms superior to the generality of her sex. Miss Broadric before this had lived with a Captain Robinson, but it appears that being addressed by Mr. Errington with great solicitude, she consented to reside with him in the character of his wife. A mutual attachment sprung up in the course of their connexion; but after a lapse of three years, during which they lived together with every appearance of domestic felicity, Mr. Errington bestowed his affections and his hand on a lady of respectability in the neighbourhood, acquainting Miss Broadric that he could see her no more. On her quitting him, he made what he conceived to be a suitable provision for her future wants, and she retired apparently deeply grieved at the unfortunate change which had taken place in the feelings of her late protector. On the 11th September 1794, she wrote a letter to him in the following terms:--

"Dear Errington,--That you have betrayed and abandoned the most tender and affectionate heart that ever warmed a human bosom, cannot be denied by any person who is in the least acquainted with me. Wretched and miserable as I have been since you left me, there is still a method remaining that would suspend, for a time, the melancholy sufferings and distress which I labour under at this moment; and still, inhuman as thou art, I am half persuaded, when I tell you the power is in your hands, that you will not withhold it from me.--What I allude to is the permission of seeing you once more, and, perhaps, for the last time. If you consider that the request comes from a woman you once flattered into a belief of her being the sole possessor of your love, you may not perhaps think it unreasonable. Recollect, however, Errington, ere you send a refusal, that the roaring of the tempest, and the lightnings from heaven, are not more terrible than the rage and vengeance of a disappointed woman. Hitherto you can only answer for the weakness and frailty of my nature. There is a further knowledge of my disposition you must have if you do not grant me the favour demanded. I wish it to come voluntarily from yourself, or else I will force it from you. Believe me, in that case I would seek you in the farthest corner of the globe, rush into your presence, and, with the same rapture that nerved the arm of Charlotte Cordet, when she assassinated the monster Marat, would I put an end to the existence of a man, who is the author of all the agonies and care that at present oppress the heart of

"ANNE BROADRIC."

"P. S. This comes by William (the servant you have discarded on my account), who has orders to wait for your answer."

Her request being refused, she persisted by letters to endeavour to induce Mr. Errington to permit her once more to see him, but finding him inexorable, she wrote to him that if nothing could induce him to do her an act of justice, he must prepare himself for the fatal alternative, as she was determined that he should not long survive his infidelity.

To this, as well as to the rest of her letters, Mr. Errington preserved a strict silence, and in about a month after Miss Broadric carried out her dreadful resolution. On Friday morning, the 15th of May, she dressed herself elegantly, and going to the Three Nuns Inn, Whitechapel, she took her place in the Southend coach, which passed close to Mr. Errington's seat. Having descended at the avenue-gate, she went towards the house, but being seen by Mr. Errington, he begged Mrs. Errington to retire for a few minutes, saying that "his tormentor was coming, but that he would soon get rid of her." The latter, however, desired him to leave the interview to her management, and desiring her husband to go into the drawing-room, she awaited the arrival of Miss Broadric in the parlour. In the mean time the latter had entered the house by the kitchen, and having learned from the footman that Mr. Errington was at home, she was proceeding up stairs, attended by the gardener, when she met Mrs. Errington. She demanded to see Mr. Errington, and was told that he was not to be seen, but saying "I am not to be so satisfied; I know the ways of this house too well, and will search for him:" she rushed up stairs into the drawing-room. She there found the object of her inquiry, and going up to him she suddenly drew from her pocket a small brass-barrelled pistol, with a new hagged flint, and presenting it to his left side in a direction towards his heart, exclaimed, "Errington, I am come to perform my dreadful promise," and she immediately fired. Mrs. Errington, who had followed her, fainted, but Miss Broadric observing that Mr. Errington did not fall, she said that she feared she had not despatched him. Mr. Errington demanded to know how he had deserved such treatment at her hands, but she made no answer, and the servants, alarmed by the report of the pistol, then coming into the room, she threw the pistol on the carpet, and exclaimed, laughing, "Here, take me; hang me; do what you like with me: I do not care now." Mr. Miller, a surgeon, soon after attended, and found that the ball had penetrated the lowest rib, had cut three ribs asunder, and then passed round the back, and lodged under the shoulder-bone, from whence every effort was made to extract it, but in vain. Mr. Button, a magistrate, now came, who took the examination of Mr. Errington after his wound was dressed. He asked Miss Broadric what could induce her to commit such an act of extreme violence, and her answer was, "That she was determined that neither Mr. Errington nor herself should long outlive her lost peace of mind!" Mr. Errington entreated the magistrate not to detain her in custody, but let her depart, as he was sure he should do well; but this request Miss Broadric refused to accept, and the magistrate to grant. Her commitment being made out, she was conveyed that evening to Chelmsford jail, where she remained tolerably composed till she heard of Mr. Errington's death, when she burst into a flood of tears, and lamented bitterly that she had been its cause. The coroner's inquest sat on the body on Tuesday, the 19th of May, and brought in their verdict, "Wilful murder, by the hands of Anne Broadric." Mr. Errington was in the thirty-ninth year of his age.

Friday, the 17th of July, was fixed for the trial of the prisoner, and at six o'clock in the morning, the prisoner was conveyed from the jail, in a chaise, to a room in the shire-hall; and about ten minutes before the Lord Chief Baron Macdonald, the sheriffs, and magistrates, appeared on the bench, she was conveyed into the bail-dock in the criminal court, attended by three ladies and her apothecary. She was dressed in mourning, without powder; and, after the first perturbations were over, occasioned by the concourse of surrounding spectators, she sat down on a chair prepared for her, and was tolerably composed, except at intervals, when she discovered violent agitations, as her mind became affected by various objects and circumstances. When the indictment was reading, she paid a marked attention to it; and on the words, "that on the right breast of the said G. Errington she did wilfully and feloniously inflict one mortal wound," &c. she exclaimed, "Oh, my great God!" and burst into a torrent of tears.

The facts above stated having been proved in evidence, the prisoner's counsel proceeded to call witnesses in support of her defence, who all joined in stating, that they had known her repeatedly to exhibit symptoms of insanity.

This defence was not traversed by the counsel on the other side, and the Jury, after a few minutes' consideration, returned a verdict of not guilty.

The judges, on leaving the town, after the assizes were over, directed that Miss Broadric should be examined before two magistrates, that she might be safely removed, under their order, to the place of her settlement, with a particular recommendation annexed thereto, that she might be taken all possible care of.

THE REV. MR. JACKSON.

CONVICTED OF TREASON.

IN connexion with the case of the unfortunate, or rather the fortunate, Mr. Hamilton Rowan, this case may prove interesting, as showing the extent to which that gentleman was engaged in plotting against the Government. Mr. Jackson was a native of Ireland, and a minister of the Church of England. Early in life he preached at Tavistock Chapel, London, and for several years resided in chambers in Lyon's Inn; but the emoluments of his clerical occupation not affording him a sufficient subsistence, he applied his talents to literature, and was for a considerable time editor of a newspaper, in which situation he made himself very conspicuous. He afterwards entered into a criminal conspiracy, and was tried at Dublin for high treason, on the 23d of April, 1795.

The indictment charged the prisoner with two species of treason, namely, compassing the king's death, and adhering to his enemies; and stated fourteen overt acts. The Attorney-general opened the prosecution on the part of the Crown; and having dwelt at some length on the doctrine of treason, proceeded to substantiate the charges in the indictment, for which purpose he called Mr. Cockayne, an attorney of London, who deposed that he had been for a series of years the law-agent and intimate friend of Mr. Jackson, who a few years since went to France (as the witness understood) to transact some private business for Mr. Pitt, where he resided a considerable time. Soon after his return, Mr. Cockayne said he called on Jackson, who told him in confidence that he had formed a design of going to Ireland, to sound the people, for the purpose of procuring a supply of provisions, &c. from them for the French, and requested him (the witness) to accompany him. Having accepted the invitation, he immediately waited on Mr. Pitt, and discovered to him the whole of Mr. Jackson's plans. The minister thanked him for the information, and hinted that, as the matter was to become a subject of legal investigation, it would be necessary for him to substantiate the allegations; the witness in consequence accompanied Mr. Jackson to Ireland, for the purpose of making himself acquainted with his proceedings. Shortly after their arrival in Dublin, where they lived together, the prisoner expressed a wish to be introduced to Mr. Hamilton Rowan, who was then confined in Newgate; and at length, through the interference of a friend, he obtained an interview, at which Mr. Cockayne was present. In the course of conversation, the prisoner delivered two papers to Mr. Rowan, for the purpose of convincing him that he was a person in whom he might confide. From that time an intimacy took place between them; and the witness always accompanied Mr. Jackson in his visits to Mr. Rowan, and constantly took a part in their conversation. They agreed, he said, that a person should be sent to France to procure a force to make a descent on Ireland; and Counsellor Wolfe Tone was mentioned as a fit person for that purpose, who at first appeared to acquiesce, but afterwards declined the office. Dr. Reynolds was then proposed by Mr. Rowan, but objected to by the prisoner, as he did not understand the French language. It was, however, at length agreed that the doctor should undertake the embassy; but in a short time, he also refused to enter into the business. On this, it was agreed that Mr. Jackson should write several letters, which were directed for a Mr. Stone, of the firm of Lawrence and Co., London. These contained inclosures for houses at Hamburgh and Amsterdam; and some of them, to the French agents, described the situation of Ireland at the time, invited an invasion, and pointed out the proper places to land. These letters having been sent to the Post-office, the witness went to the secretary and informed him of the subject of them, on which they were detained. The plot, matured thus far, having been discovered, the prisoner was taken into custody.

The defence was grounded upon the suggestion, that the evidence adduced in support of the prosecution was undeserving of credit; but the jury found the prisoner guilty.

A motion, in arrest of judgment, was then made by Mr. Curran, who appeared as counsel for the prisoner, on a point of law; in consequence of which, he was remanded. He was brought up again on the 30th April; when, before the arguments of counsel commenced, he was observed to be in a sinking state, and an apothecary being called in, he was found to have taken poison. He expired almost immediately afterwards in the presence of the Court and Bar.

LEWIS JEREMIAH AVERSHAW.

EXECUTED FOR MURDER, IN SHOOTING A PEACE-OFFICER.

This criminal was one of the most daring and unrepentant sinners that ever died by the hands of the executioner. There has too frequently been, among the most hardened, an affected contempt of death, and a foolhardiness of behaviour, on their exit from this world, which makes every one shudder. In this criminal it was peculiarly exemplified.

Avershaw was an old offender, and had committed numerous crimes which called aloud for justice. He was at length brought to trial at Croydon, in Surrey, on the 30th of July, 1795, charged on two indictments; one for having, at the Three Brewers' public-house, Southwark, feloniously shot at, and murdered, David Price, an officer belonging to the police-office, held at Union Hall, in the Borough; the other, for having, at the same time and place, fired a pistol at Bernard Turner, another officer attached to that office, with intent to murder him. Mr. Garrow, the leading counsel for the prosecution, opened the case by stating, that the prisoner at the bar, being a person of ill-fame, had been suspected of having perpetrated a number of felonies; and the magistrates of the police-office in the borough of Southwark, having received information against him, sent, as was their duty, an order for his apprehension. To execute the warrant, the deceased, Price, and another officer, went to the Three Brewers, a public-house, where they understood he was drinking in company with some other persons. At the entrance of a parlour in the house the prisoner appeared in a posture of resistance; and holding a loaded pistol in each of his hands he, with threats and imprecations, desired the officers to stand off, as he would otherwise fire at them. The officers, however, attempted to rush in and seize him; on which he discharged both the pistols at the same instant, lodging the contents of one in the body of Price, and with the other wounding Turner very severely in the head. Price, after languishing a few hours, died of the wound. Mr. Garrow was very pathetic and animated in his description of the several circumstances composing the shocking act of barbarity. To prove it, he would call four witnesses, whose evidence, he said, would clearly establish the prisoner's guilt. He accordingly called Turner, the landlord of the house, a surgeon, and a fourth witness; but, as the substance of their evidence is comprised in the opening of the indictment, it would be superfluous to repeat it. Turner said positively, that he saw the prisoner discharge the pistols, from one of which he himself received his wound, and the contents of the other were lodged in the body of Price, who died very shortly after. The surgeon proved that the death was in consequence of the wound. Mr. Knowlys and Mr. Best were counsel for the prisoner; but the weight of the evidence against him was too strong to be combated by any exertions.

Mr. Baron Perryn summed up the evidence; and the jury, after a consultation of about three minutes, pronounced the verdict of guilty. Through a flaw in the indictment for the murder, an objection was taken by counsel. This was urged nearly two hours, when Mr. Baron Perryn intimating a wish to take the opinion of the twelve judges, the counsel for the prosecution, waving the point for the present, insisted on the prisoner's being tried on the second indictment, for feloniously shooting at Bernard Turner. He was accordingly tried; and, upon the testimony of one witness, found guilty on a second capital indictment. The prisoner, who, contrary to general expectation, had in a great measure hitherto refrained from his usual audacity, now began with unparalleled insolence of expression and gesture, to ask his lordship if he "was to be murdered by the evidence of one witness?" several times repeating the question, till the jury returned him--guilty. When Mr. Baron Perryn put on the black cap, the prisoner, regardless of his dreadful situation, at the same time put on his hat, observing the judge with contemptuous looks while he was passing the sentence.

When the constables were removing him from the dock to a coach, he continued to vent torrents of abuse against the judge and jury, whom he charged with, as he styled it, his murder. As his desperate disposition was well known, he was, to prevent resistance, handcuffed, and his thighs and arms also bound strongly together; in which situation he was conveyed back to prison. So callous was this ruffian to every degree of feeling, that on his way to be tried, as he was passing near the usual place of execution on Kennington Common, he put his head out of the coach window, and, with all the sang froid imaginable, asked some of those who guarded him, if they did not think he would be twisted on that pretty spot by Saturday? After receiving sentence of death, he was conducted back to prison; where having got some black cherries, he amused himself with painting on the white walls of the room in which he was confined, various sketches of robberies which he had committed; one representing him running up to the horses' heads of a post-chaise, presenting a pistol at the driver, and the words,--"D--n your eyes, stop," issuing out of his mouth; another exhibited a scene, where he was firing into the chaise; a third, where the parties had quitted the carriage, and several others, in which he was described in the act of taking the money from the passengers, being fired at, where his companions were shot dead, &c.

At the place of execution, he appeared entirely unconcerned. He had a flower in his mouth, his bosom was thrown open, and he kept up an incessant conversation with the persons who rode beside the cart; frequently laughing and nodding to others of his acquaintance, whom he perceived in the crowd.

He suffered August 3, 1795, at Kennington Common.

WILLIAM TILLEY, JOHN CROSSWELL, GEORGE HARDWICK, JAMES HAYDEN, JOHN HAWDEN, SIMON JACOBS, JOHN SOLOMONS, JOHN PHILLIPS, AND JOHN HENLEY.

CONVICTED OF A CONSPIRACY.

This most extraordinary conspiracy to procure the liberation of a prisoner occurred on the 4th of April 1795.

It appears that a fellow named Isdwell, a Jew, stood charged with a forgery on the Stamp-Office, and for security was committed to the custody of the keeper of the New Prison, Clerkenwell. On the day in question, he persuaded two of the turnkeys that an aunt of his, who was very rich, then lay at the point of death, and that he had been informed that, could she see him before she died, she would give him one thousand pounds.

He proposed, therefore, that if they would let him out, and accompany him to the place, he would give them fifty guineas each for their trouble: and suggested that the matter might be effected without the knowledge of the keeper of the prison, or any other person, they having the keys of it at night, and the time required being very short. To this proposal the turnkeys agreed; and accordingly, about one o'clock in the morning, the gates were opened, and Isdwell, with his irons on, was conducted in a hackney-coach by one of them, armed with a blunderbuss, to the house in Artillery-lane, Bishopsgate-street, where, inquiring for the sick lady, they were ushered up stairs.

Isdwell entered the room first, on which several fellows rushed forth, and attempted to keep the turnkey out; but, not succeeding, they put the candles out, wrested the blunderbuss out of his hand, and discharged it at him. At this instant Isdwell was endeavouring to make his escape out of the window, but he received the whole charge in his body, and fell dead on the spot. A desperate conflict then took place, in the course of which the jailor was very severely beaten, but some persons being attracted to the spot by the uproar, the officer was rescued, and the prisoners were apprehended, and lodged in safe custody.

The prisoners were tried for the murder of their companion, to which their offence in reality amounted, his death having been caused by them in executing an unlawful deed, on the 21st April; but the prosecution failed in consequence of the absence of any proof to establish the fact distinctly, the occurrence having happened in the dark; but, being detained to be tried for the conspiracy to procure the liberation of the deceased Isdwell, they were convicted, and received sentence of transportation.

CHARLES SCOLDWELL.

CONVICTED OF STEALING.

The case of this fellow may prove a wholesome lesson to some of the constables and bailiffs of the present day.

The very remarkable transaction, upon which the indictment against the prisoner arose, took place at Bedfont; and the trial came on at the Old Bailey, on the 23rd July 1796. The indictment charged the prisoner with feloniously stealing, taking, and carrying away two live tame ducks, the property of John Spurling, on the 22nd of the previous month of June.

From the evidence which was adduced, it appeared that Mr. Spurling was a baker at Bedfont, and that the prisoner was a bailiff. On the 22nd June, the latter was entrusted with a writ of execution against Mr. Spurling; and accompanied by his follower, a man named Taylor, he proceeded to Bedfont, to secure his person. The debt amounted to 16_l._ 7_s._; and at two o'clock at night the prisoner made his appearance at the prosecutor's house. Upon his being required to explain his business, he said that he had a writ, and that Mr. Spurling must accompany him to Newgate. Mr. Spurling demurred at proceeding to prison at so late an hour at night, and suggested that he might settle the demand; but the prisoner, with all the insolence usually assumed by persons holding similar situations, declared that there was no use in talking, and that the prosecutor must hire a post-chaise, and go off with him at once. This new demand of a post-chaise was looked upon as a hardship, almost equal to that of going to prison, by Mr. Spurling, and he offered his own one-horse chaise for the purpose of his transportation to town, but all was of no avail; the bailiff and the bully were united in the person of Mr. Scoldwell, and nothing but a post-chaise and an immediate visit to Newgate would suit his pleasure. At length, however, Mr. Taylor, his follower, whose caution was rather greater than that of his master, ventured to inquire what sort of a settlement could be tendered by Mr. Spurling, and the latter immediately offered to pay 15_l._, which he had in the house, and to give security for the remainder of the debt. "Have you a watch?" peremptorily demanded Mr. Scoldwell, "if so, I must have it;" and the poor baker was compelled to give up his watch, worth four times the amount of the balance of the demand. The officer, however, was not yet satisfied. "Such gentlemen as we," said he, "cannot come into the country without something to cover our expenses. You must pay us for our trouble and time;" and ten shillings in halfpence, the amount of the day's earnings in the shop, were handed over to him. His wife was as much an object of consideration as himself, he next suggested. She had been deprived of his company, and he must carry something to her by way of a recompense. Were there no fowls in the house? Mr. Spurling had none. A goose would do;--Mrs. Scoldwell was very fond of goose, and Mr. Spurling being entitled to a goose which was feeding on the common, Taylor was despatched to take possession of it on behalf of his master. Still, however, the bailiff was dissatisfied; and he demanded that some additional security should be given for the debt; and having discovered that the baker had a lease of his house, he procured that also to be delivered to him, together with a note for forty pounds, with a condition, that unless the debt and costs were paid within twenty-one days all should be his. Thus pretty well secured, the prisoner, between four and five o'clock in the morning, proposed to depart, and the baker proceeded to his oven. While there, however, he saw the prisoner go to his stable where his ducks were confined, and in the morning the two ducks, mentioned in the indictment, were found to have been carried off. On his way to London, the prisoner joked with the stage-coachman about his having done the baker out of his watch, and having carried off his ducks without his knowledge; and Mr. Spurling having subsequently redeemed his watch, lease, and the note of hand for 40_l._, by paying the balance of the debt and the costs, he immediately gave the prisoner into custody.

These facts being clearly proved in evidence, the Recorder summed up the case to the jury, and a verdict of guilty was returned.

The prisoner was afterwards sentenced to seven years transportation a punishment which he richly deserved.

JOSEPH HODGES AND RICHARD PROBIN.

CONVICTED OF CROSS DROPPING.

The trick of cross-dropping has become so notorious of late years, that, any description of the mode in which it was practised is almost unnecessary. As, however, this is the first case of the kind with which we have met in the course of our search in the records of crime, we shall give it a place in our calendar.

The dupe, in this instance, was William Headley, an ironmonger at Cambridge, who, on the trial of these robbers, deposed that on the 7th of July 1796, he was in town, going from Shoe-lane to the Angel Inn, St. Clement's, to take a place on the outside of the coach to go into Wiltshire; when he met Hodges who was a stranger in Butcher-row, and left him to take his place. He went on to Clare Market, where Hodges overtook him, and they walked together through Portugal-street. While in that street Hodges suddenly stopped, and clapping his cane on a parcel which was lying on the ground, said that he had a "finding." He picked up the parcel, and opened the outer covering, and the witness saw in it something like a red pocket-book. He inquired what it was? but the prisoner refused to show him in the street, and they, in consequence, went into a public-house in order to open it. Having called for some liquor, the prisoner opened the parcel, and produced from it what looked like a diamond cross, and a receipt in the following terms:--

"London. 20th June, 1796. Received of John King, Esq. the sum of three hundred and twenty pounds, for one brilliant diamond cross, by me, William Smith."

The prisoner seemed much alarmed and confused on seeing this, but the witness having read the receipt, suggested that the parcel should be taken to Mr. Smith. This, however, was opposed by Hodges, who asked whether they had not better inquire of the gentleman sitting by (the prisoner Probin) what his opinion was? This was assented to, and upon his being addressed, he suggested that Hodges ought to give the witness a present, as having been by when the cross was found, and that he should keep it. The cross was then taken out and examined, and Hodges said that he did not mind giving the witness something, but he must go to his banker's first, and get some drafts changed. He then went out, leaving the cross with the witness and Probin, but returned, saying that his banker was out, and could not be seen until four o'clock, and a meeting at that hour was eventually appointed to take place at the Angel Inn, St. Clement's. Each party then gave his name. Hodges said that he came from Worcester, and was a hop-merchant; and Probin said that his name was William Jones, and that he lived at No. 7, Charing-cross. A discussion now took place, to whom the care of the cross should be entrusted; and Probin suggested, that the witness perhaps would be better satisfied if it were left in his hands, and that if he deposited something he might carry it away until four o'clock. He asked what would be required, and they said that he ought to leave one hundred pounds at least. He then produced a Bank bill, payable on demand, for that amount from his stocking, where he had concealed it, and handing it to Hodges, he said that that would do. The witness then went away, but subsequently showing the cross to a friend, he found that it was quite valueless. Information was, in consequence, given at Bow-street of the robbery, and both prisoners were apprehended in the course of the ensuing day, money to the amount of nearly fifty pounds being found on each. It afterwards turned out, that the prisoner Hodges changed Mr. Headley's Bank bill almost immediately after he had received it. In his possession was found a second cross, precisely similar to that palmed off upon the prosecutor.

The prisoners being found guilty, were sentenced to be transported for seven years.

THE MUTINY AT THE NORE. RICHARD PARKER.

EXECUTED FOR MUTINY.

In the year 1797, when the threatening aspect of affairs abroad made the condition of her naval force a matter of vital consequence to Britain, several most alarming mutinies broke out among the various fleets stationed around the shores of the country. In April of the year mentioned, the seamen of the grand fleet lying at Portsmouth disowned the authority of their officers, seized upon the ships, and declared their determination not to lift an anchor, or obey any orders whatsoever, until certain grievances of which they complained were redressed. After some delay, satisfactory concessions were made to them by the government, and the men returned to their duty. But the spirit of insubordination had spread among other squadrons in the service, and about the middle of May, immediately after the Portsmouth fleet had sailed peacefully for the Bay of Biscay, the seamen of the large fleet lying at the Nore broke out also into open mutiny. The most prominent personage in this insurrection was an individual named Richard Parker, whose history it is our object in this paper to lay before the reader.

Richard Parker was a native of Exeter, where he was born about the year 1765 or 1766. His father was a reputable tradesman, and kept a baker's shop at St. Sidwell's, in the bounds of the city mentioned. Young Parker received an excellent education, and in the course of time went to sea, which he had chosen as the scene of his future career. He served for a considerable period in the royal navy as midshipman and master's mate, and at one period also, it is said, held the post of lieutenant. He appears to have given up the naval profession on his marriage with Miss Ann Machardy, a young lady resident in Exeter, but of Scottish origin, being a member of a respectable family in the county of Aberdeen. This connexion led Parker to remove to Scotland, where he embarked in some mercantile speculations that proved unsuccessful. The issue was, that he ere long found himself involved in difficulties, and without the means to maintain his wife and two children. In Edinburgh, where these embarrassments fell upon him, he had no friends to apply to, and, in a moment of desperation, he took the king's bounty, and became a common sailor on board a tender at Leith. When he communicated to his wife the step he had taken, she was in the greatest distress, and resolved to set off instantly for Aberdeen, in order to procure from her brother there the means of hiring two seamen as substitutes for her husband. Though successful in raising the necessary funds, no time was allowed her to complete her project. On her return from Aberdeen, she was only in time to see the tender sail for the Nore, with her husband on board. Her grief on this occasion was bitterly aggravated by the death of one of her children. Parker's sufferings were shown to be equally acute by his conduct when the vessel sailed. Exclaiming that he saw the body of his child floating on the waves, he leaped overboard, and was with difficulty rescued and restored to life.

It was in the beginning of May 1797 that Parker reached the Nore, or point of land dividing the mouths of the Thames and the Medway. Probably on account of his former experience and station as a seaman, he was drafted on board the Sandwich, which was the guard-ship, and bore the flag of Admiral Buckner, the port-admiral. The mutinous spirit which afterwards broke out, certainly existed on board of the Nore squadron before Parker's arrival. Communications were kept up in secret between the various crews, and the mischief was gradually drawing to a head. But though he did not originate the feeling of insubordination, the ardent temper, boldness, and superior intelligence of Parker, soon became known to his comrades, and he became a prominent man among them. Their plans being at length matured, the seamen rose simultaneously against their officers, and deprived them of their arms, as well as of all command in the ships, though behaving respectfully to them in all other respects. Each vessel was put under the government of a committee of twelve men, and, to represent the whole body of seamen, every man-of-war appointed two delegates, and each gun-boat one, to act for the common good. Of these delegates Richard Parker was chosen president, and, in an unhappy hour for himself, he accepted the office. This representative body drew up a list of grievances, of which they demanded the removal, offering to return immediately afterwards to their duty. It is unnecessary to specify these demands further, than that they related to increase of pay and provisions, a more equal division of prize-money, liberty to go on shore, proper payment of arrears, and other points of naval discipline. A committee of naval inquiry subsequently granted almost all that was demanded, thereby acknowledging the general justice of the complaints made. Parker signed these documents, and they were published over the whole kingdom with his name, as well as presented to Port-admiral Buckner, through whom they were sent to government.

When these proceedings commenced, the mutineers were suffered to go on shore, and they paraded about Sheerness, where a part of the fleet lay, with music, flags (red in colour--the customary hue of insubordination), and other appendages of a triumphal procession. But, on the 22d of May, troops were sent to Sheerness to put a stop to this indulgence. Being thus confined to their ships, the mutineers, having come to no agreement with Admiral Buckner, began to take more decisive measures for extorting compliance with their demands, as well as for insuring their own safety. The vessels at Sheerness moved down to the Nore, and the combined force of the insurgents, which at its greatest height consisted of twenty-four sail, proceeded to block up the Thames, by refusing a free passage, up or down, to the London trade. Foreign vessels, and a few small craft, were suffered to go by, first receiving a passport, signed by Richard Parker as president of the delegates. In a day or two the mutineers had an immense number of vessels under detention. The mode in which they kept these was as follows:--The ships of war were ranged in a line, at considerable distances from each other, and in the interspaces were placed the merchant-vessels, having the broadsides of the men-of-war pointed to them. The appearance of the whole assemblage is described as having been at once grand and appalling. The red flag floated from the mast-head of every one of the mutineer ships. It may be well imagined that the alarm of the citizens of London was extreme. The government, however, though unable at the period to quell the insurgents by force, remained firm in their demand of "unconditional submission as a necessary preliminary to any intercourse." This, perhaps, was the very best line of conduct that could have been adopted. The seamen, to their great honour, never seemed to think of assuming an offensive attitude, and were thereby left in quiet to meditate on the dangerous position in which they stood in hostility to a whole country. They grew timorous; the more so, as the government had caused all the buoys to be removed from the mouth of the Thames and the adjacent coasts, so that no vessel durst attempt to move away for fear of running aground. The mutineering vessels held together, nevertheless, till the 30th of May, when the Clyde frigate was carried off through a combination of its officers with some of the seamen, and was followed by the St. Fiorenzo. These vessels were fired upon, but escaped up the river.

On the 4th of June, the king's birth-day, the Nore fleet showed that their loyalty to their sovereign was undiminished, by firing a general salute. On the 5th, another frigate left the fleet, but its place was supplied by a sloop and four men-of-war, which had left Admiral Duncan's fleet at the Texel to join the mutiny. On the 6th, Lord Northesk met the delegates by desire on board the Sandwich, and received from them proposals for an accommodation, to which the unfortunate Parker still put his name as president. The answer was a direct refusal, and this firmness seems to have fairly humbled the remaining spirit of the mutineers. From that time one vessel after another deserted the band, and put themselves under the protection of the fort at Sheerness. On the 10th, the merchantmen were allowed by common consent to pass up the river, and such a multitude of ships certainly never entered a port by one tide. By the 12th, only seven ships had the red flag flying, and on the 16th the mutiny had terminated, every ship having been restored to the command of its officers. A party of soldiers went on board the Sandwich, and to them the officers surrendered the delegates of the ship, namely, a man named Davies, and Richard Parker.

Richard Parker, to whom the title of Admiral Parker had been given by the fleet and by the public during the whole of this affair, was the individual on whom all eyes were turned as the ringleader of the mutineers. He was brought singly to trial on the 22d of June, after being confined during the interval in the black-hole of Sheerness garrison. Ten officers, under the presidency of Vice-Admiral Sir Thomas Paisley, composed the court-martial, which sat on board the Neptune, off Greenhithe. The prisoner conducted his own defence, exhibiting great presence of mind, and preserving a respectful and manly deference throughout for his judges. The prosecution on the part of the Crown lasted two days, and on the 26th, Parker called witnesses in his favour, and read a long and able defence which he had previously prepared. The line of argument adopted by him was--that the situation he had held had been in a measure forced upon him; that he had consented to assume it chiefly from the hope of restraining the men from excesses; that he had restrained them in various instances; that he might have taken all the ships to sea, or to an enemy's ports, had his motives been disloyal, &c. &c. Parker unquestionably spoke the truth on many of these points. Throughout the whole affair, the injury done to property was trifling, the taking of some flour from a vessel being the chief act of the kind. This was mainly owing to him. But he had indubitably been the head of the mutineers. He was proved to have gone from ship to ship giving orders, and haranguing the men--to have been cheered as he passed along, and treated with the honours of a chief. Nothing could save him. He was sentenced to death. When his doom was pronounced, he stood up, and uttered these words in a firm voice: "I shall submit to your sentence with all due respect, being confident of the innocence of my intentions, and that God will receive me into favour; and I sincerely hope that my death will be the means of restoring tranquillity to the navy, and that those men who have been implicated in the business may be reinstated in their former situations, and again be serviceable to their country."

On the morning of the 30th of June, the yellow flag, the signal of death, was hoisted on board of the Sandwich, where Richard Parker lay, and where he was to meet his fate. The whole fleet was ranged a little below Sheerness, in sight of the Sandwich, and the crew of every ship was piped to the forecastle. Parker was awaked from a sound sleep on that morning, and after being shaved, he dressed himself in a suit of deep mourning. He mentioned to his attendants that he had made a will, leaving his wife heir to some property belonging to him. On coming to the deck, he was pale, but perfectly composed, and drank a glass of wine "to the salvation of his soul, and forgiveness of all his enemies!." He said nothing to his mates on the forecastle but "Good bye to you," and expressed a hope that "his death would be deemed a sufficient atonement, and save the lives of others!" He was strung up to the yard-arm at half-past nine o'clock. A dead silence reigned among the crews around during the ceremony. In closing their account of this affair, the journals of the day state that the body of Parker was put into a shell, and interred, within an hour or two after the execution, in the New Naval Burying Ground at Sheerness. A curious sequel to this account, however, it is now in our power to present to the reader.

Richard Parker's unfortunate wife had not left Scotland, when the rumour came to her ears that the Nore fleet had mutinied, and that the ringleader was one Richard Parker. She could not doubt that this was her husband, and immediately took a place in the mail for London, to save him if possible. On her arrival, she heard that Parker had been tried, but the result was unknown. Being able to think of no way but petitioning the king, she gave a person a guinea to draw up a paper, praying that her husband's life might be spared. She attempted to make her way with this to his majesty's presence, but was obliged finally to hand it to a lord-in-waiting, who gave her the cruel intelligence that all applications for mercy would be attended to, except for Parker. The distracted woman then took coach for Rochester, where she got on board a king's ship, and learnt that Parker was to be executed next day: she sat up, in a state of unspeakable wretchedness, the whole of that night, and at four o'clock in the morning went to the river-side, to hire a boat to take her to the Sandwich, that she might at least bid her poor husband farewell. Her feelings had been deeply agonised by hearing every person she met talking on the subject of her distress, and now, the first waterman to whom she spoke exclaimed, "No! I cannot take one passenger. The brave Admiral Parker is to die to-day, and I will get any sum I choose to ask for a party." Finally, the wretched wife was glad to go on board a Sheerness market-boat, but no boat was allowed to come alongside the Sandwich. In her desperation she called on Parker by name, and prevailed on the boat-people, by the mere spectacle of her suffering, to attempt to go nearer, when they were stopped by a sentinel threatening to fire at them. As the hour drew nigh, she saw her husband appear on deck between two clergymen. She called on him, and he heard her voice, for he exclaimed, "There is my dear wife from Scotland." Immediately afterwards, she fell back in a state of insensibility, and did not recover till some time after she was taken ashore. By this time all was over, but the poor woman could not believe it so. She hired another boat, and again reached the Sandwich. Her exclamation from the boat must have startled all who heard it. "Pass the word," she cried, in her delusion, "for Richard Parker!" The truth was now told to her, and she was further informed that his body had just been taken ashore for burial. She immediately caused herself to be rowed ashore again, and proceeded to the churchyard, but found the ceremony over, and the gate locked. She then went to the admiral and sought the key, which was refused to her. Excited almost to madness by the information that the surgeons would probably disinter the body that night, she waited around the churchyard till dusk, and then, clambering over the wall, readily found her husband's grave. The shell was not buried deep, and she was not long in scraping away the loose earth that intervened between her and the object of her search. She got the lid removed, and then she clasped the cold hand of her husband in her own!

Her determination to possess the body aroused the widow from the enjoyment of this melancholy pleasure. She left the churchyard, and communicated her situation to two women, who, in their turn, got several men to undertake the task of lifting the body. This was accomplished successfully, and at three o'clock in the morning, the shell containing the corpse was placed in a van, and conveyed to Rochester, where, for the sum of six guineas, Mrs. Parker procured another waggon to carry it to London. On the road they met hundreds of persons all inquiring about and talking of the fate of "Admiral Parker." At eleven P.M. the van reached London; but here the poor widow had no private house or friends to go to, and was obliged to stop at the Hoop and Horse-Shoe on Tower-Hill, which was full of people. Mrs. Parker got the body into her room, and sat down beside it; but the secret could not long be kept in such a place, more particularly as the news of the exhumation had been brought by express that day to London. A great crowd, by and bye, assembled about the house, anxious to see the body of Parker, which, however, the widow would not permit. The Lord Mayor heard of the affair, and came to ask the widow what she intended to do with her husband's remains. She replied, "To inter them decently at Exeter or in Scotland." The Lord Mayor said that the body would not be taken from her, but prevailed on her to have it decently buried in London. Arrangements were made with this view, and finally the corpse of the unfortunate Parker was inhumed in Whitechapel churchyard; although not until it had to be removed to Aldgate workhouse, on account of the crowds attracted by it, and which caused some fears lest "Admiral Parker's remains should create a civil war." After the closing ceremony was over, Mrs. Parker, who had in person seen her husband consigned to the grave, gave a certificate that all had been done to her satisfaction. But, though strictly questioned as to the parties who had aided her in the disinterment, she firmly refused to disclose their names.

Parker, as has been said, made a will, leaving to his wife a small property on which he had claims near Exeter. This she enjoyed for a number of years, but ultimately her rights, whether erroneously or not, were decided to be invalid, and she was deprived of the pittance which had formed her maintenance. She was thrown into great distress, and was compelled to solicit assistance from the charitable, having become nearly if not entirely blind. The late King William gave her at one time 10_l._, and at another 20_l._ In 1836, the forlorn and miserable condition of poor Parker's widow was made known to the London magistrates, and a temporary refuge was provided for her. But temporary assistance was of little avail to one whose physical infirmities rendered her incapable any longer of helping herself, and again her miserable condition came under the cognizance of the public authorities. An appeal to the charitable has recently been made, by a portion of the daily press, in her favour, but with what success we are unable to say. She is now seventy years of age, blind, and friendless. Time and misfortune have not quenched her affection for the partner of her early days. Of him she yet speaks with all the enthusiasm of youthful affection, and still mourns his fate.

MARIA THERESA PHIPOE, alias MARY BENSON

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

We do not recollect ever to have seen the case of any woman who has exhibited so much masculine determination as Mrs. Phipoe. She was twice tried at the Old Bailey upon charges equally atrocious, and each equally exhibiting the ferocity of her disposition.

In the first case, the indictment charged that she had feloniously assaulted Mr. John Cortois, with intent to kill and murder him. Her trial came on at the Old Bailey in the month of January 1795, when it was proved in evidence that the prisoner was a person of abandoned character, and that she kept a house, where she was in the habit of receiving visits of a certain character from gentlemen. Among her other patrons was Mr. John Cortois, a gentleman of considerable property; and it appears that Mr. Cortois having called upon her one evening, he was alarmed at finding himself suddenly seized from behind by his paramour, and her servant, a woman almost as powerful as herself, by whom he was speedily overpowered, and bound to his chair with strong cords. His person being thus secured, Mrs. Phipoe immediately, with horrid imprecations, demanded that he should sign a note or bill in her favour for 2000_l._, threatening that, in the event of his refusal, she would instantly cut his throat; and even enforcing her demands by holding a knife at his throat in such a position as that on the smallest movement on his part would have procured the infliction of a wound. In a state of the utmost terror and alarm, he consented to attach his name to the instrument which was produced, ready drawn by Mrs. Phipoe, and then he imagined, as a matter of course, that he should be at liberty. But Mrs. Phipoe by this time had begun to consider the possibility of his preventing the negotiation of the note, and determining that "Dead men tell no tales," she had made up her mind that he should have no opportunity of disclosing the means by which it had been obtained. For this diabolical purpose, she now made a violent attack upon him with a knife, and wounded him in many places; but Mr. Cortois, becoming desperate in his turn, burst the bonds by which he was confined with a violent effort, and attacked his assailant. A struggle took place, in which Mr. Cortois was again mastered by the united efforts of Mrs. Phipoe and her servant; and then a choice was tendered to him whether he would die by poison, by being shot, or by the knife which Mrs. Phipoe brandished in a threatening manner over his head. The unfortunate gentleman was now much weakened by loss of blood, and was almost prevented from opposing the further violence of his demoniac assailants, when, luckily, the cries which he had raised brought him assistance in the shape of a watchman, through whose instrumentality Mrs. Phipoe was secured.

Upon this testimony a verdict of guilty was returned; but a point of law being subsequently raised in favour of the prisoner, it was declared that the judgment must be arrested.

Mrs. Phipoe was, however, subsequently, on the 23rd of May, indicted for the common assault upon Mr. Cortois, and a verdict of guilty having been a second time returned, she was subjected to twelve months' imprisonment in Newgate.

A year had scarcely elapsed after the termination of the period of her incarceration, before Mrs. Phipoe, or Mrs. Benson, as she was now called, was again in custody on a charge of murder.

She was indicted on the 8th of December 1797, for the wilful murder of Mary Cox; and it appeared that at the time of the commission of this offence, the prisoner lived in lodgings in Garden-street, St. George's in the East. On the night of the murder, Mrs. Cox called upon her; but within a short time after she had entered her room, a scuffle was heard, followed by loud groans. The mistress of the house demanded to know the cause of the disturbance, but the prisoner declared that it was only Mrs. Cox in a fit. The door being opened, however, Mrs. Benson was observed to be covered with blood, and Mrs. Cox was found lying on the ground desperately wounded. Two persons immediately went for a doctor, while a constable was also sent for, by whom the prisoner was taken into custody. Mrs. Cox, on being examined, was found to have sustained some severe wounds, from which there was no prospect of her recovering; and she pointed out Mrs. Benson as the person by whom they had been inflicted. A large clasp-knife, covered with blood, was found on the table in the room; and by its side lay a part of a finger; and on Mrs. Benson being questioned, she admitted that that was the knife with which "she had done the woman's business;" and said that her own finger had been cut off in the scuffle. Mrs. Cox subsequently died in the hospital, from the effects of the stabs she had received, having previously made a declaration before a magistrate as to the circumstances attending her murder. She said that having purchased a gold watch of the prisoner for 11_l._, she asked that a coffee-cup, which she pointed out, might be given to her into the bargain. The prisoner bade her take it; but on her raising her hand to remove it from the shelf, she received a stab in the neck, which was followed by many others in the same place and on different parts of her body. The prisoner subsequently got her on the bed, and swore that she would murder her outright, that she should not tell her own tale; but she was interrupted by the entrance of the landlady.

The prisoner in her defence declared that Mrs. Cox had abused her, and had violently wounded her, so as to cut off part of her finger before she offered any violence to her; but that then, being maddened with pain and rage, she admitted she had attacked her. She knew nothing of what subsequently occurred, until she was found by her landlady in her own room covered with blood.

The jury having returned a verdict that the prisoner was guilty, she behaved with great hardihood, frequently interrupting the learned judge (Mr. Baron Perryn) in his observations, while condemning her to death.

Sentence having been passed, however, that she should be hanged and subsequently dissected, she was removed from the bar, and then she appeared to be fully sensible of her guilt, and of the nature of her present position.

She was executed before Newgate, December the 11th, 1797; and after hanging an hour in the view of a great number of spectators, one-third of whom were females, the body was cut down, and delivered to the surgeons for dissection.

In her last moments she confessed the justice of her sentence, but denied having cut off her own finger, saying it was done in the scuffle with the woman she murdered. She owned to have been guilty of many enormities, and attributed her frequent gusts of passion to the use of laudanum.

Her body was publicly exhibited in a place built for the purpose in the Old Bailey.

JAMES O'COIGLEY, alias FAVEY.

EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.

James O'Coigley was indicted at Maidstone, on the 21st of May 1798, for high treason. The indictment was read by Mr. Knapp, who afterwards stated the charges it contained in a summary manner. He said there were three distinct species of treason charged in the indictment and seven overt acts. The first treason was compassing and imagining the death of the king; the second, adhering to his enemies; the third, compassing and imagining, inventing, devising and intending, to move and stir certain foreigners and strangers, that is to say, the persons exercising the powers of government in France, to invade this kingdom. The first overt act was sending intelligence to the enemy; the other overt acts were attempts to hire vessels, and to leave the kingdom.

At the trial, which lasted during the whole of two days, an immense body of evidence was produced in support of the charges preferred against the prisoner. A pocket-book, however, which had been found in his great-coat, and in which was a letter addressed to the Executive Directory of France, afforded conclusive evidence of his guilt.

Upon his being called upon for his defence, he addressed the jury in the following terms:--

"It is impossible for me to prove a negative; but it is a duty I owe to you, and to myself, solemnly to declare that I never was the bearer of any message or paper of this kind to France in the course of my life. That paper is not mine: it never belonged to me. It states that it was to be carried by the bearer of the last: this is something which might have been proved, but it is impossible for me to prove a negative. There is also in this paper an allusion to secret committees and political societies. I declare that I never attended any political society whatever. With these considerations I consign my life to your justice; not doubting but that you will conduct yourselves as English jurymen ever do, and that your verdict will be such as shall receive the approbation of your own conscience, your country, and your God."

The jury, after about half-an-hour's consideration, found O'Coigley Guilty.

Mr. Justice Buller, in an address to the prisoner, which he read from a written paper previously to his passing the sentence, observed that he had been clearly convicted of the most atrocious crime which could be committed in any country--that of meditating the destruction of a sovereign, who was one of the best, the most just, upright, and amiable of princes that ever graced a throne; and he could not conceive what were the motives which could actuate any man even to wish for the death of one who had ever been the father of his people.

The prisoner was also found guilty of conspiring to overturn the constitution of these kingdoms--a constitution which, from the experiment of years, had been found to be the best calculated of any that ever existed in the world to ensure the liberty, security, and happiness of the people who lived under it.

These atrocious crimes became still greater from the manner in which they were intended to be perpetrated--that of inviting a foreign enemy to come and invade and conquer these countries.

Those people who had fancied such an event to be a desirable one ought to think seriously what the consequences of it would be, provided it was possible to be accomplished. Did they suppose that (desperate as their present situation might be) their condition would be bettered by having their country put into the possession of people who were holding out the delusive hopes of what they call liberty to other nations? Could such persons hope that they themselves should enjoy liberty, even supposing the conquerors to have enjoyed as free a constitution as any in the world? No; they would become suspected, be despised, and destroyed by them.

A celebrated writer (Montesquieu) very justly observed upon this subject, that a country conquered by a democratic nation always enjoyed less liberty, was more miserable, and more enslaved, than if that country happened to have been conquered by a nation whose government was monarchical. But if there was any illustration of this observation wanting, one had only to look to the conduct of the French at this moment towards Holland, Italy, Switzerland, and every other country they had conquered. His lordship believed that the prisoner might have been actuated by motives similar to those which used formerly to induce many people to think that the killing of men of a different religion would give them a claim to canonization. But, though the motives might be similar, the subjects connected with them were very different. In the present times he did not believe that any person entertained such sentiments about religion. On the contrary, he was sorry to find that religion was too much neglected, and that the peace and tranquillity of numbers of people were destroyed in consequence of their having lost all belief of the existence of a Divine Providence, and totally abandoned all hopes of a future state. He was afraid that the prisoner had been infected with this infidelity; and if he was, he (the judge) prayed that the Almighty God, in his infinite mercy and goodness, would change his heart, and cause him to repent of his sins.

His lordship then, in a solemn and awful manner, passed the following sentence:--

"That the prisoner be taken from the bar to prison, and from thence to the place of execution; there to be hanged, but not until he be dead, to be cut down while yet alive, and then to have his heart and bowels taken out and burnt before his face; his head to be severed from his body, and his body to be divided into four quarters."

Mr. O'Coigley listened to this address and sentence with attention, but at the same time with the greatest coolness. He bowed his head when the judge concluded, his countenance expressing at once resignation and firmness.

Thursday, 7th June, being fixed upon for the execution, on the previous day, the unhappy prisoner received an intimation to that effect without emotion. He spent the evening very calmly. He had but one thing, he said, on his mind which created any anxiety; that was, an apprehension that he might be misrepresented after his death. He was anxious to be faithfully reported, and that was all he wanted. On Thursday, at a quarter past eleven o'clock, O'Coigley left the jail. He was dressed in black; his hair was cropped and powdered, his shirt-collar open, and he wore no neckcloth. His elbows were tied behind with ropes, and over his shoulders was the rope with which he was to be executed. He stepped into the hurdle; and on his sitting down, a chain was put round his waist to fasten him. The executioner sat opposite to him. The cavalcade was well guarded by a large body of the Kent Volunteers; and throughout the journey to Pennenden Heath, the prisoner was engaged in reading from a book of devotions.

Upon their arrival at the place of execution, the military formed a square. The prisoner being unchained, he rose up and stood in the hurdle, and read two prayers, one of them aloud in Latin. He then took out of his pocket an orange, and also a penknife; but being unable to cut the orange, from his hands being bound, he gave it to a friend, whom he beckoned to come near him, saying, "Open this orange with my penknife; it has been said they would not trust me with a penknife, lest I should cut my throat; but they little knew that I would not deprive myself of the glory of dying in this way." He desired his friend to keep the penknife for his sake, and to hold the orange, several pieces of which he ate.

After finishing his devotions, the clergyman gave him absolution; and having ascended the platform, he bid farewell to the jailor, thanking him for the many civilities he had shown him. On his being tied up to the gallows, he made the following speech:--

"I shall only here solemnly declare, that I am innocent of the charge for which I suffer. I never was in my life the bearer of any letter, or other paper or message, printed, written, or verbal, to the Directory of France, nor to any person on their behalf; neither was I ever a member of the London Corresponding Society, or of any other political society in Great Britain; nor did I attend any of their meetings, public or private, so help me God! I know not whether I shall be believed here in what I say, but I am sure I shall be believed in the world to come. It can scarcely be supposed that one like me, in this situation, going to eternity, before the most awful tribunal, would die with a falsehood in his mouth; and I do declare, by the hopes I confidently feel of salvation and happiness in a future state, that my life is falsely and maliciously taken away by corrupt and base perjury, in some cases proceeding from mistake, no doubt, but in others from design. Almighty God, forgive all my enemies. I beg of you to pray that God will grant me grace--for I have many sins to answer for; but they are the sins of my private life, and not the charge for which I now die. (Raising his voice.) Lord have mercy on me, and receive my soul."

A white nightcap was then drawn over his face, and he made a signal by dropping a handkerchief. The board was then let down, and he remained suspended for twelve or thirteen minutes. Upon his being taken down, his head was taken off by a surgeon, and the executioner held it up to the populace, saying "This is the head of a traitor." Both head and body were then put into a shell, and buried at the foot of the gallows.

GEORGE WALDRON, alias BARRINGTON.

TRANSPORTED FOR PICKING POCKETS.

This notorious offender was born of decent parents in the year 1755, in the town of Maynooth, county Kildare, Ireland. His father, whose name was Waldron, was a working silversmith; and his mother followed the occupation of mantua-maker, and occasionally joined with it the profession of a midwife. Owing to a law-suit in which they were engaged with a relative, for the recovery of a legacy to which they conceived themselves entitled, their circumstances were by no means affluent. But although they were unable to procure for their son the advantages of a superior education, they had him instructed at an early age in reading and writing; and afterwards, through the bounty of a medical gentleman in the neighbourhood, he was taught the principles of arithmetic, and the elements of geography and English grammar.

When he had entered his sixteenth year, he had the good fortune to attract the notice of a dignitary of the Church of Ireland, through whose interest he was placed at a free grammar-school in the Irish capital, where his patron proposed he should fit himself for the University; and in order that he might be able to make an appearance equal to that of the youths with whom he was to associate, his generous protector supplied him with money and every other necessary that could render his situation at school not only comfortable, but respectable.

These advantages he enjoyed but a short time, for the impetuosity of his passions hurried him into an action by which he lost his patron's favour for ever. When he had been about half a year at the grammar-school, he was involved in a quarrel with a lad much older and stronger than himself. Some blows passed, in which George suffered considerably; but in order to be revenged, he stabbed his antagonist with a penknife; and had he not been prevented, would probably have murdered him. For this atrocious offence the discipline of the house was inflicted with proper severity, which irritated the youth to such a degree, that he formed the resolution of abandoning not only the school, but also his family and friends. His plan of escape was no sooner formed than it was carried into execution; but before his departure he found means to steal ten or twelve guineas from the master, and a gold repeating-watch from his sister. With this booty he safely effected his escape from the school-house in the middle of a still night in the month of May 1771; and pursuing the great north road from Dublin all that night and the next day, he arrived late in the evening at Drogheda without interruption.

Having reached this town, where he thought that he should be safe from the chances of pursuit and discovery, by a species of forced march, without rest or refreshment, he entered a small public-house in order to procure the one and the other; but the following morning introduced to his notice a band of strolling players, whose acquaintance he immediately made. A friendship commenced under such unfavourable circumstances, it might be thought would scarcely last many days, but it was nevertheless maintained through choice and affection for several years; and it appears that whilst engaged as a member of the company, he picked up much information which was exceedingly useful to him in his subsequent career.

Price, the manager of the company, having lived some time in London, in the capacity of clerk to a pettifogging attorney, was intimately acquainted with the town, and all the arts of fraud, deception, or violence, which are practised in it by the most unprincipled classes to procure money. For indulging these vicious propensities, he subjected himself to the lash of the law, and was at this time an involuntary exile in Ireland till the expiration of the term for which he was to be transported; and this man soon became the confidant and counsellor of the young fugitive. By his advice he renounced his paternal name, assumed that of Barrington, and entered into the company; and in the course of four days he became so well initiated in the mysteries of his profession as to be able to perform the part of Jaffier in "Venice Preserved," without the aid of a prompter, in a crowded barn in the neighbourhood of Drogheda with the most flattering demonstrations of applause.

His success, however, was by far too great to render it at all desirable that he should continue his performances so near the scene of his late depredations; and in obedience to the dictates of prudence, lest our hero might be called upon to make his last appearance on a "stage" fitted up with a drop, before his character as a player was fully established, it was resolved that the whole company should, without delay, move northwards with all speed, so as to get out of the way, with the anticipation of their being able to reach sixty or eighty miles from Dublin without any long bait. In order to carry this resolution into effect, however, it was recollected that some means must be found to feed the strollers, as the produce of their late performances was not so weighty as to require any great exertion on the part of the treasurer to squeeze it into his waistcoat pocket; and the gold repeater being remembered, it was immediately given up by our hero, pro bono publico, with a degree of liberality which procured for him a burst of applause from his companions in the search of histrionic fame. The watch being disposed off, its proceeds were equally divided, and the party set out on its march; but when they arrived at Londonderry, it was found that the Belvidera of the company had surrendered her heart to the new Jaffier. A reciprocal attachment was found to exist, and the connexion was only dissolved by the death of the lady. It appears that she was the daughter of a respectable tradesman at Coventry; and having eloped from her father's house, at the age of sixteen years, with a lieutenant of marines, conducted by him to Dublin, and there, in less than three months, was infamously abandoned to all the horrors of penury and want. Reduced to this extremity, she readily embraced a proposal made to her by Price, to join his company, as her only resource; and being young and beautiful, it is not extraordinary that she should have excited a flame in the bosom of her new admirer. She was unfortunately drowned, in her eighteenth year, in crossing the Boyne, through the negligence of the ferryman.

To return, however, to the Company. The money which had been raised was found to be quite expended on their arrival at Londonderry, and some means, it was determined, must be found to recruit their bank. In this dilemma, Price insinuated to our adventurer that a young man of his address and appearance might easily introduce himself into the public places, to which the merchants and dealers of the town resorted, and that he might, without difficulty, find opportunities of picking their pockets, and escaping unseen and undiscovered. The idea pleased Barrington, and the fair coming on, offered a favourable juncture at which to commence his new profession. The design was carried into execution in the course of the ensuing day with very great success, their acquisitions amounting to about forty guineas in cash, and one hundred and fifty pounds in Bank notes. The circumstance, it may readily be supposed, excited no small alarm among the honest traders, on its becoming generally known that robberies to so large an amount had been effected; but the players remaining in the town, suspicion did not rest upon them, and the depredation was put down to the score of some of the ordinary scamps who then, as well as now, followed the fairs, in Ireland and England. It was resolved, however, that the company should quit Derry, and after having played a few nights with more applause than profit, they removed to Ballyshannon, where our hero may be said to have commenced the business of a professed pickpocket in the summer of the year 1771, in the 16th year of his age.

At Ballyshannon he passed the autumn and winter of 1771 with the company to which he belonged, playing two days in the week, and picking pockets whenever opportunity offered; and this business, though attended with some danger and certain infamy, he found so much more lucrative than that of the theatre, where his fame and his proficiency by no means kept pace with the expectations raised by his first appearance, that he determined to quit the stage.

He now commenced what is called a "gentleman pickpocket," by affecting the airs and importance of a man of fashion; but he was so much alarmed at the detection and conviction of his preceptor, Price (who was sentenced to transportation for seven years), that he hastened to Dublin, where he practised his pilfering art during dark evenings only. He soon made his own country too hot to hold him, for at one of the races in the county of Carlow he was detected picking the pocket of a nobleman; but, upon restoring the property, his lordship declined any prosecution, and he therefore left Ireland, and for the first time appeared in England in 1773. On his first visit to Ranelagh with a party, he quitted his friends, and picked the pockets of the Duke of Leinster and Sir William Draper of a considerable sum; and he also took from a lady a watch, with all which he got off undiscovered, and rejoined his friends.

In 1775 he visited the most celebrated watering-places, particularly Bath; and, being supposed to be a gentleman of fortune and family, he was noticed by persons of the first distinction. On his return to London he formed a connexion with one Lowe, and became a most daring pickpocket. He went to court on the queen's birthday, as a clergyman, and not only picked several pockets, but found means to deprive a nobleman of his diamond order, and retired from the palace without suspicion.

In the course of the winter of 1775 the celebrated Russian Prince Orloff visited England. The various circumstances of his history, the high favour he enjoyed at the court of his sovereign, and the valuable presents he had received from her, were frequently mentioned in the public prints. Among the rest, a gold snuff-box, set with brilliants, and valued at the enormous sum of thirty thousand pounds, particularly attracted the attention of Barrington. It was not long before he formed a plan for obtaining possession of it. A favourable opportunity one night presenting itself at Covent-garden Theatre, he contrived to get near the prince, and found means to convey the precious trinket out of his excellency's waistcoat pocket into his own. This operation, however, was not performed with such dexterity as to escape detection. The prince felt the attack so impudently made upon him, and immediately seized the depredator by the collar. During the confusion that ensued, Barrington slipped the box into the hand of the owner, who was doubtless well pleased at having recovered it so easily; but the delinquent was, nevertheless, secured, and committed to Tothill-fields Bridewell, previous to his examination at Bow-street for the offence. On this occasion he represented himself as belonging to an affluent and respectable family in Ireland, adding that he had been educated for the medical profession, and had come to London to improve himself in it; and having accompanied this plausible representation with many tears, and seeming to rest so much on his being an unfortunate gentleman rather than a guilty culprit, Prince Orloff declined to prosecute, and he was dismissed by the magistrate, with some wholesome admonition.

This adventure, however, had no effect with our hero. He had gone too far to recede, and he was compelled to continue his depredations upon the public, in order to obtain a living.

In pursuit of his business, it was his custom to attend the sittings of the two Houses of Parliament; but being one day in the House of Peers, he was recognised by a stranger who was present, and turned out by one of the ushers, who was made acquainted with his character. A threat of vengeance was heard to slip from the lips of the thief, and he was taken into custody, and being unable to give security for his future good behaviour, he was committed to Tothill-fields Bridewell, and remained there during a considerable period of time. On his discharge, his only refuge was his old profession: but he had not pursued it long before he was detected in picking the pocket of a woman in Drury-lane Theatre, for which he was indicted and convicted at the Old Bailey in the year 1777, and was sentenced to three years' hard labour on board the hulks at Woolwich. The excellence of his deportment there, however, procured for him a mitigation of his punishment, and at the termination of a year he was set at liberty, in obedience to the recommendation of the superintendants of his gang.

Within six months after his release, he was detected in picking the pocket of a lady during divine service in St. Sepulchre's church, and being convicted of this offence, he was again sentenced to hard labour on the river; but for a period of five years, and in pursuance of his sentence, he was removed to the hulks a second time, in the year 1778.

During this second confinement, he either found that his sufferings were more severe or his situation more desperate than in his former imprisonment, and, wearied out with labour and disgusted with life, he determined to commit suicide. With this view he stabbed himself in the breast with a penknife; but the wound, though deep and dangerous, did not prove mortal, and it healed slowly, although it left the unfortunate prisoner in a state of the greatest weakness. While he was in this state, he had the good fortune to attract the attention of a gentleman of rank, who happened to visit the hulks for the purpose of inquiring into the state of the convicts, and who, commiserating his wretched plight, exerted his influence and procured for him a pardon, on condition of his quitting the kingdom. The condition was eagerly accepted, and having been provided with money by his benefactor, he proceeded at once to Dublin.

He had scarcely arrived in this city, however, before he was apprehended on a charge of picking the pocket of a nobleman of his gold watch and money at a theatre; but the evidence being defective, he was acquitted and discharged. Upon his defence to this charge he displayed considerable powers of oratory, and having been addressed by the Judge in terms of suitable admonition, he spoke with great animation, and enlarged upon what he termed the force of prejudice, insinuating that the calumnies which, he contended, had been uttered against him in England, had followed him to his native country.

He then quitted the bar, and as soon as he had obtained his liberty, he deemed it prudent to retire from Dublin, and he proceeded to Edinburgh. Suspicions were, however, soon entertained of his character there, and, braving all danger, he returned to London, and there frequented the theatres, the Opera House, Pantheon, and other places of public resort, but was at length taken into custody. Having been acquitted for want of evidence of the charge brought against him, he was unexpectedly detained for having returned to England in violation of the condition on which his majesty was pleased to grant him a remission of his punishment, and was accordingly confined in Newgate during the remainder of the time that he was originally to have served on the river Thames.

On the expiration of his captivity he returned to his former practices, but with greater caution: but in spite of all his cares, he was at length apprehended for picking the pocket of Mr. Le Mesurier, at Drury-lane playhouse, but effected his escape from the constable; and while the lawyers were outlawing him, and the constables endeavouring to take him, he evaded detection by travelling in various disguises and characters through the northern counties of the kingdom.

The appearances of a clergyman, a quack doctor, and a rider or traveller, were in turn assumed; but going to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, he was secured and removed to London by a writ of habeas corpus. He now employed counsel, and had the outlawry against him reversed; and being then tried for stealing Mr. Le Mesurier's purse, was acquitted in consequence of the absence of a material witness.

Being once more enlarged, he had the presumption to visit Dublin again, where having been soon suspected, he with difficulty escaped to England; but, soon after his arrival, he was taken into custody for picking the pocket of Henry Hare Townsend, Esq. at Epsom Races. For this he was tried at the Old Bailey, September 1, 1798, and found guilty, notwithstanding he made an ingenious defence. On September 22d the Recorder pronounced the sentence of transportation on him for seven years, when Barrington addressed the Court to the following effect:--

"My Lord,--I have a great deal to say in extenuation of the cause for which I now stand convicted at this bar; but, upon consideration, I will not arrest the attention of the honourable Court too long. Among the extraordinary vicissitudes incident to human nature, it is the peculiar and unfortunate lot of some devoted persons to have their best wishes, and their most earnest endeavours to deserve the good opinion of the most respectable part of society, entirely frustrated. Whatever they can say or whatever they can do, every word and its meaning, every action and its motive, is represented in an unfavourable light, and is distorted from the real intention of the speaker or the actor. That this has been my unhappy fate, does not seem to stand in need of any confirmation. Every effort to deserve well of mankind, and my heart bore witness to its rectitude, has been thwarted by such measures as those, and consequently has been rendered abortive. Many of the circumstances of my life I can, without any violation of truth, declare to have, therefore, happened absolutely in spite of myself. The world, my lord, has given me credit for abilities, indeed, much greater than I possess, and therefore much more than I deserved; but I have never found any kind hand to foster these abilities. I might ask, where was the generous and powerful hand that was ever stretched forth to rescue George Barrington from infamy? In an age like this, which, in several respects, is so justly famed for liberal sentiments, it was my severe lot that no noble-minded gentleman stepped forward, and said to me, 'Barrington, you are possessed of talents which may be useful to society. I feel for your situation; and as long as you act the part of a good citizen, I will be your protector: you will then have time and opportunity to rescue yourself from the obloquy of your former conduct.' Alas, my Lord, George Barrington never had the supreme felicity of having such comfort administered to his wounded spirit. As matters have unfortunately turned out, the die is cast,--and as it is, I bend resigned to my fate, without one murmur or complaint."

Having concluded this address, rendered more forcible by his pathetic manner, he left the bar with a respectful bow, and thus retired from public life in Europe, to act his part in a new hemisphere.

From the period of his conviction Barrington's conduct was such as to retrieve his character from the disgrace with which he had loaded it during the former portion of his life. Soon after the ship in which he, with many other culprits, embarked for Botany Bay, had left England, a circumstance occurred which may justly be asserted to have laid the foundation of his subsequent good fortune.

The humanity of the captain had induced him to release many of the convicts who were in a weakly state from their irons, and to permit them alternately, ten at a time, to walk upon deck. Two of them, who were Americans, formed the design of seizing the ship, and prevailed on the majority of their comrades to enter into the plot. It was agreed, that on the first favourable opportunity, part of those who were on deck should force the arm-chest, overpower the sentinels, and then give a signal for those below to join them. This design was planned with great secrecy, and executed with equal spirit and audacity. One day, the captain and most of the officers being below, Barrington, who was the only man on deck except the man at the helm, heard a noise on the main-deck, and going forward to ascertain its cause, was met by one of the Americans and another convict, who presented a sabre at his breast, which they had just wrenched from one of the sentinels, and commanded him instantly to stop, and to make no noise. The sentinel at the moment came up, and with a pistol which he had just snapped at the villain's head, knocked up the weapon; and Barrington, seizing the opportunity, snatched up a hand-spike, and felled his assailant to the ground. The man at the helm was a witness to this scene of violence, and gave the alarm, while Barrington meanwhile kept his situation, guarding the passage of the quarter-deck. His antagonists now retreated a few paces, but, being joined by many others, were rushing upon him, when the discharge of a blunderbuss from behind our hero wounded several, and they retreated; and Barrington being by this time aided by the captain and the rest of the officers, the mutineers were in a few minutes driven below. An attempt of this kind required the most exemplary punishment; and, accordingly, two of the ringleaders were immediately hanged at the yard-arm, and several others severely flogged.

Order being restored, the captain paid Barrington many handsome compliments for his conduct, to which he attributed the salvation of the ship, promised him a recompense for his services, and directed his steward to supply him with everything he wanted during the voyage. Accordingly, on the arrival of the ship at the Cape of Good Hope, he gave Barrington a draft on a merchant there for one hundred dollars, with permission to go on shore as often as he pleased. Nor was this all; for, when they reached the place of their final destination, the captain made such a favourable report of Barrington's character and merits to the governor of Port Jackson, that he immediately appointed him superintendant of convicts at a kind of colony from the parent settlement, called Paramatta, where a convenient habitation was assigned him.

Barrington's conduct in this situation was marked by such undeviating rectitude as not only to obtain him the esteem of the governor and other officers, but also to procure him the appointment of high constable of Paramatta, with a salary of fifty pounds a-year; on which occasion the governor complimented him on the faithful discharge of his duty, which he considered as effacing his former misconduct.

In this situation he continued some time, but in 1801 he was a mere living skeleton; and, having lost the use of his intellectual faculties, had retired on a small pension. He died in 1804, a melancholy instance of perverted talents; and it is supposed that his mental imbecility was brought on by remorse and conscious sensibility, operating on a mind capable of better things.

JAMES HADFIELD.

TRIED FOR HIGH TREASON, IN SHOOTING AT THE KING.

The case of this unfortunate man has attracted universal attention, but its circumstances exhibit only that the most lamentable insanity existed in the mind of the prisoner.

The trial of the wretched man came on in the Court of King's Bench, on the 26th June, 1800, when the prisoner was arraigned upon an indictment, which charged him with shooting at the King in Drury-Lane Theatre on the 15th May preceding.

The indictment having been read, the prisoner pleaded Not Guilty, and the Attorney-general then opened the case against him.

Mr. Joseph Craig was the first witness examined. He deposed, that he was a musician at Drury-Lane Theatre, and was there on the night of his Majesty honouring the performance with his presence. His attention was suddenly drawn to the prisoner, whose figure he saw elevated above the rest; his right hand being extended with a pistol pointed towards his Majesty. The pistol was immediately discharged, and then it fell down instantly. Several persons seized the prisoner at once, and he assisted in pulling him over the rails, and in taking him into the music room. Mr. Sheridan and the Duke of York afterwards entered the room, when the prisoner said, "God bless your Royal Highness! I like you very well, you are a good fellow."

Other witnesses deposed to the same effect; and stated, in addition, that they had remarked that the prisoner was a pitiful object before the dreadful attempt which he made. The situation which the prisoner selected was the best which he could have chosen for the object which he had in view; he was observed to be agitated on the entrance of his Majesty; and on his bowing a second time to the audience, the prisoner raised his arm and fired. The pistol was picked up from the ground in front of him, after he was taken into the music room.

Mr. Law, one of the counsel for the prosecution, here desired that the Duke of York might be called; upon which the prisoner, in a paroxysm of enthusiasm, cried out, "God bless the duke! I love him." The Court, seeing his agitation, immediately gave directions that he should be permitted to sit down; and Mr. Kirby, the keeper of Newgate, (who all the time sat next to him,) told him he had permission of the Court to sit down, which he did, and remained composed during the remainder of the trial.

The Duke of York then stated, that he was present at the examination; he remarked at the time that he knew the prisoner, and that he had been one of his orderly men. The prisoner said, "He knew his own life was forfeited; he regretted the fate of his wife only; he would be only two days longer from his wife;" and he added, "The worst is not come yet." His royal highness said the prisoner appeared to be perfectly collected. After his majesty had retired, his royal highness directed a search to be made in the king's box, when a hole was discovered, evidently made by the impression of a shot, fourteen inches from his majesty's head. It had perforated the pillar. In searching below, some slugs were found; and by the smell, it appeared that they had been recently fired off. Mr. Erskine asked his royal highness if the must loyal and brave men were not usually selected to be the orderly men. His royal highness answered, that the most tried and trusty men were appointed orderly men. When the prisoner was asked what could induce him to commit so atrocious an act, he said he was tired of life, and thought he should have been killed.

The evidence for the prosecution being closed, Mr. Erskine addressed the jury at considerable length.

Major Ryan, of the 15th light dragoons, in which the prisoner was a private, Hercules M'Gill, private in the same regiment, and John Lane, of the Guards, all knew the prisoner, and deposed to his having been guilty of different acts of insanity.

Mr. Cline, surgeon; Dr. Crichton, physician; and Dr. Letherne, surgeon to the 15th regiment, as professional gentlemen, gave testimony to their belief of the prisoner's insanity.

Captain Wilson and Christopher Lawton, of the 15th light dragoons; David Hadfield, brother to the prisoner; Mary Gore, sister-in-law to the prisoner; Catharine Harrison, and Elizabeth Roberts, detailed different acts of insanity, particularly on the day previous to and on which he committed the crime for which he stood indicted: and the prisoner was found by the jury to be insane, and was remanded to be dealt with according to his Majesty's pleasure.

He was subsequently removed to Bedlam, where he remains.

Ravillac, who stabbed King Henry IV. of France, while in his coach, and surrounded by his guards, was tortured to death in the following inhuman manner:--

At the place of execution, his right hand, with which he gave the fatal blow, was put into a furnace flaming with fire and brimstone, and there consumed. His flesh was pulled from his bones with red-hot pincers; boiling oil, resin, and brimstone, were poured upon the wounds, and melted lead upon his navel. To close the scene of horror, four horses were fastened to the four quarters of his body, which were torn asunder.

He declared to the last moment that he had no accomplices, and that the only motive which impelled him to act the regicide was, because the king tolerated two religions in France.

His parents were banished their country, never more to return, on pain of immediate death; and his whole kindred, nay, every individual bearing the name, were ordered to renounce it; so that the name of Ravillac should never more be heard of in France.

RICHARD FERGUSON, alias GALLOPING DICK.

HANGED FOR HIGHWAY ROBBERY.

The adventures of Galloping Dick are scarcely less notorious than those of the celebrated Turpin, or the unfortunate Dick King, the "Gentleman Highwayman."

Richard Ferguson was the son of a gentleman's valet, and was a native of Hertfordshire. Having received some little education, he was at an early age taken into employment in the establishment of his father's master as a stable-boy. Being an active lad, and withal well versed in the management of horses, he was temporarily employed as postilion during the illness of the regular servant; but, being at length compelled to return to his more humble duties of stable-boy, his pride could ill brook the degradation; and he determined to look for higher employment. A friend of his master was in want of a postilion, and young Dick applied for the place. His qualifications were at once admitted, and he was engaged, and immediately accompanied his new employer to London. His habits were, at this time, of such a nature as to render him a favourite with his master, and, by means of steadiness and perseverance, he remained during a considerable period in the same service; but, being at length discovered in a situation with one of the female servants which left no doubt of his claims to a character for gallantry, he was dismissed.

He remained out of place during a considerable period, and, resorting to public-houses, he became acquainted with a number of persons of his own condition, from whom he speedily acquired a knowledge of all the vices fashionable among the party-coloured gentry. He, at length, was compelled to accept employment in the service of a livery-stable keeper in Piccadilly; but his master dying, he was again thrown upon the town, though not altogether without provision, for he had so far gained his master's good opinion, that he had left him a legacy of 50_l._

Dick was now the owner of a sum far greater than he had ever yet had the good fortune to possess; and he determined to commence business in a new line--that of gentleman. Purchasing mourning out of respect to his last employer, he frequented the theatres, and while at Drury-lane he became acquainted with a woman, his admiration of whose charms eventually, though by indirect means, proved his ruin. At first, he was disposed to imagine that she was a person of respectability, but, meeting with a ready acquiescence in his request to be permitted to accompany her home, he soon discovered the mistake into which he had fallen. Day after day he visited his dulcinea, until he had disposed of all the cash he possessed, and then he began to find, that there were others, whose visits were more welcome than his. He, not unfrequently, met persons in their way in or out of the house, with whose figures he became speedily familiar, and an accident subsequently made him acquainted with the nature of their avocations.

Finding that he was no longer welcome to the house of his lady, he resolved now to endeavour to procure the means by which he hoped again to secure her favour; and he accepted a situation as postilion at an inn in Piccadilly.

In his drives round the metropolis, he not unfrequently saw his rivals gaily dressed and mounted, but he was rather surprised one day, while on the North Road, at receiving a sudden summons to stop from a man, whose figure he fancied he recognised as that of one of them, but whose face was covered with crape. He speedily obeyed the order which he had so peremptorily received; and while the man who had called to him stood by his side with a pistol at his head, another, similarly disguised, galloped from a by-road to the chaise and demanded the money of its occupant. A sudden gust of wind now enabled our hero to satisfy himself of the truth of his surmises as to the highwayman near him, for the crape being momentarily blown from his face, he at once recognised in him one of the admirers of the lady of his affections, whom he subsequently found to be Jerry Avershaw. He stared at the man, but some persons at this moment appearing in view, the highwayman precipitately rode off.

Avershaw, it appears, was no less uneasy at the discovery, which he knew had been made, than Ferguson was astonished; and, pulling up with his companion at a roadside inn, they gave directions, that Dick should be introduced to them on his stopping there to water his horses, on his way home with the return chaise. Upon his entry, an offer was immediately made to him of a bribe, to prevent his discovering the haunts of the thieves, and his acquiescence procured for him an invitation to sup with the highwaymen on the same evening at their rendezvous in the Borough. With the money our hero flew to his doxy, but the lady having now discovered his situation declined to have anything more to say to him.

The chance, which had operated to deprive him of the society of the lady, however, gained for him the companionship of her visitors; and, meeting Avershaw at the house which he had appointed, he was received with every mark of attention. A sumptuous supper was served, and a large party having assembled, the night was spent in boisterous hilarity. Ferguson was delighted with the society to which he was introduced, and at once assented to a proposition, that he should become one of their number--a sharer in their dangers and profits. In obedience to a suggestion which was offered, it was determined, however, that he should not yet be called upon to enter into active service, but that he should furnish his associates with information as to the routes of the various chaises which went from the inn where he was employed, so that they might intercept them, and rob them. He pursued this diabolical plan with so much success as frequently to obtain some share of very large booties; but, at length, his connexion with the highwaymen being suspected, he lost his place, and was compelled to take the road himself. In this new employment, he was long remarked for the most extraordinary success. Of a bold and daring disposition, he defied danger. His skill in horses was found to be of the greatest importance to him; and the headlong pace at which he would travel, when in pursuit of an object, or when chased, procured for him the name of "Galloping Dick." Numerous were the escapes which he succeeded in making from his pursuers, after he had committed robberies; and, in one instance, having been concerned with two others in stopping two gentlemen in the Edgeware Road, he succeeded in galloping off, while his companions were secured, and upon being tried were convicted and executed.

Nor were his successes confined to the road. In his amours he was equally bold and enterprising, and equally happy. He persuaded two married women, the wives of publicans in the Borough, to elope with him, and his intrigues were almost innumerable.

To follow him through the whole of his exploits would be to occupy a very considerable portion of our limits with the recital of his case alone. He was concerned in almost every robbery which was committed in the neighbourhood of the metropolis during the period at which he was celebrated, and his acquaintance and connexion with other thieves were almost as extensive as his crimes. He was repeatedly in custody at Bow-street, and was several times tried at the Old Bailey, but acquitted: but at length having been a party to a most daring robbery near Aylesbury, he was taken into custody within a short time of the commission of his offence, and being fully identified, he was committed for trial.

He was indicted at the ensuing assizes, and a verdict of guilty having been found, he was sentenced to death.

Upon his discovering that all hopes of mercy were vain, he sedulously applied himself to a preparation for his approaching end, and upon the day of execution conducted himself with decent resignation.

He was executed at Aylesbury in the month of April, 1800.

JOSEPH WALL, ESQ.

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

Mr. Wall, or as he has been more commonly called, Governor Wall, was descended from a good family in Ireland, and entered into the army at an early age. He was of a severe and rather unaccommodating temper; nor was he much liked among the officers.

Mr. Wall was Lieutenant-governor of Senegambia, but acted as chief, the first appointment being vacant. His emoluments were very considerable, as, besides his military appointments, he was superintendant of trade to the colony. It was an office he held but a short time--not more than two years; during which he committed the crime for which he suffered, by ordering Benjamin Armstrong to receive eight hundred lashes, on the 10th of July, 1782, of which he died in five days afterwards.

As soon as the account of the murder reached the board of admiralty, a reward was offered for his apprehension; but, having evaded justice in 1784, he lived on the Continent, sometimes in France, and sometimes in Italy, but mostly in France, under an assumed name, where he was admitted into good society.

It is most extraordinary that a species of fatality almost invariably appears to attend persons who have been guilty of offences like that of Mr. Wall. A gnawing desire to return to London constantly preyed on the mind of that gentleman, and at length in the year 1797, having first written to a confidential friend to procure him lodgings, he once more appeared in the metropolis. His presence was quickly notified to his relations, who constantly urged the imprudence of this step, and the importance of his again retiring beyond the reach of the laws of England, but all remonstrance proved vain, and he continued to reside in his lodgings in Lambeth, scarcely exhibiting any desire to conceal his name, character, or situation. He soon afterwards removed to new apartments in Upper Thornhaugh-street, Bedford-square, and from this time he seems to have contemplated surrendering himself to the Government, in order that he might take his trial for the offence imputed to him. His mind appeared ill at ease, but he was evidently incapable of coming to any firm determination upon a point of so much importance to his interests and those of his family. It was not until the year 1801 that he at length summoned up courage to do that which he now looked upon as his duty to his country, and then he wrote to the Government in terms singularly indicative of his disposition, saving that "He was ready to give himself up," but not immediately tendering his person to custody.

A communication of this character was not to be overlooked by a minister of state, and although it was extremely possible, that in case of his continued silence, no steps would have been taken to procure the apprehension of Mr. Wall, orders were now given that he should be secured. At this period he was still living in Upper Thornhaugh-street, and there he was apprehended by officers, who received instructions from the office of the Secretary of State for the Home Department.

On the 20th of January, 1802, about twenty years after the commission of the crime with which he stood charged, Mr. Wall was indicted at the Old Bailey, and his trial came on before the Chief Baron of the Exchequer, Mr. Justice Rook, and Mr. Justice Lawrence.

Upon the case being called on, the prisoner informed the Court that he was deaf, and requested to be permitted to sit near his counsel, but the Lord Chief Baron informed him, that such an application could not be acceded to, for that there was a situation pointed out for persons placed in his condition, and that any distinction would be invidious. The case then proceeded, and it was proved by the witnesses, that Armstrong was far from being undutiful in his behaviour; that he was, however, tied to the gun-carriage; black men, brought there for the purpose--not the drummers, who in the ordinary course of things would have had to flog him, supposing him to have deserved flogging;--but black men were ordered to inflict the punishment ordered. Each man took his turn, and gave this unhappy sufferer twenty-five lashes, until he had received the number of eight hundred; and the instrument with which the punishment was inflicted was not a cat-o'-nine tails, which is usually employed, but a piece of rope of a greater thickness, which was much more severe than the cat. During the time at which this inhuman punishment was being inflicted, the prisoner stood by, and with a degree of cruelty almost unparalleled urged the executioners to "cut him to the heart and liver," and in answer to the poor wretch's cries for mercy, he was proved to have declared that "the sick season coming on, with the punishment, would do for him." At the conclusion of the flogging, the miserable being was conducted to the hospital, and there, at the expiration of five days, he died, declaring that he had been punished without trial.

The defence set up was, that the deceased had been guilty of mutiny, and that the punishment was not so severe as reported, but that the deceased was suffered to drink strong spirits when in the hospital. Several witnesses were called on the part of the prisoner, particularly Mrs. Lacy, widow of the captain who succeeded Mr. Wall, and Mary Falkner, who not only agreed with him in the outrageous conduct of the men, and the violent language they used, but both positively swore that Lewis, the first witness against the prisoner, was not the orderly serjeant on that day.--John Falkner, Peter Williams, and some others who were present, were also examined, and their testimony went in full corroboration of the account given by the prisoner, and so far went to his justification; but in many material points it was in direct contradiction to the evidence which had been given by the witnesses for the Crown.

The jury, after being out of court some time, pronounced a verdict of "guilty." The Recorder then proceeded to pass sentence of death upon the prisoner; that he be executed the following morning, and that his body be afterwards delivered to be anatomized according to the statute. Mr. Wall seemed sensibly affected by the sentence, but said nothing more than to request the court would allow him a little time to prepare himself for death. On the 21st of January, a respite was sent from Lord Pelham's office, deferring his execution until the 25th, and on the 24th, he was further respited till the 28th. During the time of his confinement, previous to trial, he occupied the apartment which was formerly the residence of Mr. Ridgway, the bookseller. His wife lived with him for the last fortnight; although he was allowed two hours a-day, from twelve to two, to walk in the yard, he did not once embrace this indulgence; and during his whole confinement, he never went out of his room, except into the lobby to consult his counsel. He lived well, and was at times very facetious, easy in his manners, and pleasant in conversation; but during the night he frequently sat up in his bed and sang psalms, overheard by his fellow-prisoner. He had not many visitors, and his only attendant was a prisoner, who was appointed for that purpose by the turnkey.

After trial he did not return to his old apartment, but was conducted to a cell; and he was so far favoured as not to have irons put on, but a person was employed as a guard to watch him during the night to prevent him doing violence to himself. On his return from court, on the day of trial, his bed was brought to him in the cell, on which he threw himself in an agony of mind, saying it was his intention not to rise until they called him on the fatal morning.

The sheriffs were particularly pointed and precise in their orders, with respect to confining him to the usual diet of bread and water, preparatory to the awful event, and this order was scrupulously fulfilled. The prisoner, during a part of the night, slept, owing to fatigue and perturbation of mind. The next morning his wife applied, but was refused admittance without an order from one of the sheriffs. She applied to Mr. Sheriff Cox, who attended her to the prison.

From the time of the first respite, until twelve o'clock on Wednesday night, he did not cease to entertain hopes of his safety. The interest made to save him was very great. The whole of Wednesday occupied the great law officers; the judges met at the chancellor's in the afternoon, and the conference which then took place lasted upwards of three hours.

All hopes were, however, vain, and at a little after four o'clock, on Thursday the 28th, the scaffold began to be erected by torch-light.

The prisoner had had an affecting interview with his wife, the night before, from whom he was painfully separated about eleven o'clock. Mrs. Wall then reluctantly departed, overwhelmed with grief, and bathed with tears; while the unfortunate husband declared that he could now, with Christian fortitude, submit to his unhappy fate.

During the greater part of the night he slept but little; but at about four o'clock in the morning his sleep was observed to become sound, and, according to the best recollection of his attendant, he continued in this sleep rather more than an hour; so that he could not have heard the fatal machine in its passage to the Debtors'-door. His voice preserved its usual strength and tone to the end; and, though very particular in his questions respecting the machinery in every part, yet he spoke of his approaching execution and death with perfect calmness. At half after six in the morning, his prison attendant, going to his cell, was asked by him "whether the noise he heard was not that of erecting his scaffold?" but he was humanely answered in the negative.

The Ordinary, Dr. Ford, soon after entered, when the prisoner devoutly joined him for some time in prayer. They then passed on to an ante room, when the governor asked "whether it was a fine morning?" On being answered in the affirmative, he said, "The time hangs heavily: I am anxious for the close of this scene." One of the officers then proceeded to bind his arms with a cord, for which he extended them out firmly; but recollecting himself, he said, "I beg your pardon a moment;" and putting his hand in his pocket, he drew out two white handkerchiefs, one of which he bound over his temples so as nearly to conceal his eyes, over which he placed a white cap, and then put on a round hat; the other handkerchief he kept between his hands. He then observed, "the cord cuts me; but it's no matter:" on which Dr. Ford desired it to be loosened, for which the prisoner bowed, and thanked him.

As the clock struck eight, the door was thrown open, and Sheriff Cox and his officers appeared. The governor approaching him, said, "I attend you, sir;" and the procession to the scaffold, over the Debtors'-door, immediately succeeded. He had no sooner ascended it, accompanied by the Ordinary, than three successive shouts from an innumerable populace, the brutal effusion of one common sentiment, evidently deprived him of the small portion of fortitude which he had summoned up. He bowed his head under the extreme pressure of ignominy, when the hangman put the halter over it. This done, Mr. Wall stooped forward and spoke to the Ordinary, who, no doubt at his request, pulled the cap over the lower part of the face, when in an instant, without waiting for any signal, the platform dropped.

From the knot of the rope turning round to the back of the neck, and his legs not being pulled, as at his particular request, he was suspended in convulsive agony for more than a quarter of an hour. After hanging a full hour, his body was cut down, put into a cart, and immediately conveyed to a building in Cow-cross-street to be dissected. He was dressed in a mixed coloured loose coat, with a black collar, swan-down waistcoat, blue pantaloons, and white silk stockings. He appeared a miserable and emaciated object, never having quitted the bed of his cell from the day of condemnation till the morning of his execution.

The body of the unfortunate gentleman was not exposed to public view, as was usual in such cases. Mr. Belfour, secretary to the Surgeons' Company, applied to Lord Kenyon to know whether such an exposure was necessary; and finding that the forms of dissection only were required, the body, after those forms had been complied with, was consigned to the relations of the unhappy man, upon their paying fifty guineas to the Philanthropic Society.

JOHN TERRY AND JOSEPH HEALD.

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

These villains were executed for the wilful murder of a poor old woman, named Elizabeth Smith, aged sixty-seven years; their object being to possess themselves of a small sum of money, known to have been recently before transmitted to her by her son.

Their trial came on at York, on Friday the 18th of March 1803; and the indictment alleged the murder to have been committed at Flaminshaw, near Wakefield, in the same county.

It appeared that the deceased was a respectable woman, who obtained an humble living by disposing of the produce of two cows which she possessed. Misfortune, however, fell upon her, and her cows died; but through the instrumentality of her neighbours a subscription was raised for her, by which one cow was purchased. Her son, who was engaged in a decent way of life at Leeds, sent her eighteen guineas to buy another; and this was the bait by which the wretched men, whose crime we are about to describe, were allured. On the morning of the 14th of January 1803, the poor old woman was found to have been murdered in her own house, under circumstances of very great barbarity; and suspicion having fallen upon the prisoners, they were taken into custody. Terry then, driven by remorse, made a confession to Shaw and Linley, the constables by whom he had been secured. He said that he and Heald, having determined upon the perpetration of the murder, agreed to meet outside the house of the deceased at about one o'clock on the morning of the 14th of January. They met in accordance with their appointment; and Heald having first entered the house, by making his way through the first-floor window, with his (Terry's) assistance, he directly afterwards placed something against the side of the house by means of which he was enabled to follow him. On their gaining the room of Mrs. Smith, they found that she had been alarmed by the noise which they had made, and was getting up; but they directly attacked her, and knocked her down; and when Heald had struck her several blows, he took out a razor. The deceased was now still on the ground, and he (Terry) held her head, while Heald cut her throat; but at length his fingers being wounded, he called to his companion to desist, as they had done enough, and proposed that they should go and see if all was safe. He then ran down stairs, but returning in a few moments, he found that Heald had got the old woman into another room, and was beating her over the head with a pair of tongs. Upon seeing him, he struck her no more, and then they directly secured the money and made off. From the evidence of the constables it further appeared that Heald, on hearing the confession of the other prisoner, upbraided him for deceiving him, and added, "Thou knowest I was not with thee." Terry answered, "Thou knowest there is a God above, who knows all;" and upon Heald remarking, "Thou hadst better lay it upon somebody else," he replied, "I will not hang an innocent man; thou knowest there were but us two, and God for our witness."

This, together with some other circumstances of suspicion, proved against the two prisoners, constituted the evidence against them; and the jury returned a verdict of Guilty. Sentence of death was then immediately passed, and was ordered to be put into execution on the following Monday; but in the mean time a most extraordinary change took place in the demeanour of the prisoner Terry.

Upon his being attended by Mr. Brown, the Ordinary, he asserted that Heald was not guilty, and that if he were hanged, he should be guilty of two murders instead of only one. He entreated that the clergyman would endeavour to procure the respite of his fellow-prisoner, and declared that he could not bear to be hanged with an innocent man. The whole of the circumstances were in consequence submitted to the consideration of the learned judge; and every measure of precaution was instantly taken by that learned individual to prevent the occurrence of an event which might deprive an innocent person of life; but as it was found that Heald made no attempt to join in the protestations of his companion, and further that the whole of Terry's conduct appeared to arise from a desire only that the execution should be respited, and that his declarations were contradictory and evidently devoid of truth, the law was ordered to take its course.

On the way from his cell to the scaffold Terry appeared to be in the highest state of excitement; and upon his appearance on the platform, he exhibited a most extraordinary degree of stubbornness. He shouted to the mob assembled, that they were going to hang an innocent man, and even made an effort to escape, by jumping from the ladder placed against the gallows, and which he was only prevented from doing by the clergyman, who seized him by the collar. He then renewed his protestations of his own guilt, and the innocence of his companion; and in spite of the entreaties of the clergyman, and of Heald, that he would allow him the benefit of the prayers, he continued to make the most clamorous resistance to the execution of the sentence. By the united exertions of five men, he was at length dragged to the drop, and the rope was forced over his head; but in his efforts he tore off the cap; and at the moment at which the platform sunk, he made a spring, and throwing himself towards the side of the gallows, got his foot upon the beam, and caught the corner-post with his arm. In this dreadful situation he supported himself for about a minute, when he was forced off by the executioner, and then, with his face uncovered, he was left suspended. In a few moments both he and his companion in crime were lifeless.

ROBERT SMITH.

EXECUTED FOR ROBBERY.

This singular robber was a Scotchman, and one of those adventurers who, ingenious in wickedness, devise new plans of depredation, and make the industrious, whose hard earnings they enjoy, the chief objects of their prey.

The mode of robbery which this man adopted, was that of employing a hackney-coach to drive him to some outlet, and then robbing the coachman in the first lonesome place he came to; in which for some time he was very successful. This trade he commenced early in the month of March, 1803, when, being genteelly dressed, at night about ten o'clock, he hired a hackney-coach at Charing-cross, and ordered the coachman to drive to St. John's Farm, near the one mile-stone on the Edgeware-road. When the coach got to the top of the lane leading to St. John's Farm, Smith pulled the string, and told the coachman to let him get out, for he had passed the house he wanted to go to; upon which the coachman got off his box, and let him out of the coach. Smith then asking what his fare was, he told him, five shillings and sixpence; when he put his hand into a side-pocket, pulled out a pistol, and swore that he would immediately shoot him if he did not deliver his money. The coachman complied; and upon his demanding his watch, delivered that up also; and the robber succeeded in making his escape across the fields.

On Monday the 6th of March, at about eleven o'clock at night, Smith hired another coach, and ordered the driver to proceed to St. George's-row, on the Uxbridge-road. Upon his arrival at the place of his destination, he demanded the coachman's money and watch with the most horrid imprecations; and on some hesitation being shown to comply with his request, he produced a pistol and a tuck-stick, with the latter of which he wounded the driver in the side. Two seven-shilling pieces, and eight and sixpence in silver, were then handed over to him, and he decamped, threatening the coachman with instant death in case of his attempting to pursue him.

His career of guilt, however, was destined soon to close; for being met in King's-road, Chelsea, by a patrole named Jones, on Sunday night, the 20th of March, under suspicious circumstances, he was taken into custody, and a pistol and sword-stick were found in his possession. Information of his capture being published, on the morning of his examination at Bow-street, he was instantly recognised by Jones and Treadwell, the two coachmen, his robberies upon whom we have described; and further proof of his identity in the former case was found in a duplicate which was taken from his pocket, referring to the pawning of the watch of the prosecutor.

Three other charges of a similar character were subsequently preferred against him by other coachmen, whom he had induced to convey him to unfrequented places in the vicinity of London; and a fourth case of robbery on the highway was proved by John Chilton, a porter at Messrs. Spode's Staffordshire warehouse, whom he had met at Bayswater, and whom, after having maltreated and wounded, he had robbed of three shillings and sixpence.

On his trial the prisoner was recognised as a discharged artillery-man, and was identified by Treadwell, one of his prosecutors, as having been his fellow-prisoner in the King's Bench; and he was found guilty, and sentenced to death.

He was hanged at the Old Bailey in the month of June 1803, apparently fully sensible of the enormity of the crimes which he had committed.

GEORGE FOSTER.

EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF HIS WIFE AND CHILD.

The conviction of this wretched man was founded entirely upon circumstantial evidence.

He was indicted on the 14th January, 1803, at the Old Bailey, for the wilful murder of his wife and child.

From the testimony of the witnesses called in support of the case for the prosecution, it appeared, that the prisoner lived in a place called North row, Grosvenor-square, and that his wife and child lived with the mother of the former in Old Boswell-court, but were in the habit of going to the prisoner's lodgings to sleep, every Saturday night. On the 4th December, in compliance with this custom, his wife quitted her mother's house with the child, and was never more seen by her until the Wednesday following, when her body was picked up in the Paddington Canal, near the Mitre Tavern, at a distance of about two miles from Paddington. Inquiries were subsequently made, the result of which proved, that the prisoner had been seen with his wife at the Mitre, as late as half-past four o'clock on the evening of the 5th December, and that then they went away together, walking by the side of the canal towards London. The prisoner was met in town, by an acquaintance, at about six o'clock; but no suspicion was entertained until the discovery of the body. The prisoner was then taken into custody, when he declared that immediately on his leaving the Mitre, he had quitted his wife, and had gone across the fields as far as Whetstone, on his way to Barnet to see two of his children, who were in the workhouse there; but that on his arrival there, it was so dark that he returned to London at about eight o'clock, but that he never saw his wife again.

The learned judge, in summing up the case to the jury, remarked to them that the prisoner's story was utterly at variance and inconsistent with the evidence adduced; and a verdict of Guilty was returned, and the prisoner was sentenced to death.

He subsequently confessed the justice of his conviction and punishment; and admitted that he had conducted his wife twice to the same spot with the same object, before he could summon up courage to destroy her. He assigned no reason for the diabolical deed, except that he had taken an unaccountable dislike for her, and did not know how otherwise to rid himself of her.

He was executed at the Old Bailey, on the 18th January, 1803.

After he had hung the usual time, his body was cut down and conveyed to a house not far distant, where it was subjected to the Galvanic process, by Professor Aldini, under the inspection of Mr. Keate, Mr. Carpue, and other medical gentlemen. M. Aldini, who was the nephew of the discoverer of this most interesting science, showed the powers of Galvanism to be far superior to those of any other stimulant. On the first application of the process to the face, the jaw of the deceased criminal began to quiver, and the adjoining muscles were horribly contorted, and one eye actually opened. In the subsequent part of the process, the right hand was raised and clenched, and the legs and thighs were set in motion. Mr. Pass, the beadle of the Surgeons' Company, being officially present during the time of these extraordinary experiments, was so alarmed, that on his going home he died from fright.

An experiment of another description was made on a convict, named Patrick Redmond, who was hanged for a street-robbery, on the 24th of February, 1767, in order to bring him to life. It appears that the sufferer had hung twenty-eight minutes, when the mob rescued the body, and carried it to an appointed place, where a surgeon was in attendance to try the experiment of bronchotomy, which is an incision in the windpipe, and which, in less than six hours, produced the desired effect. A collection was made for the poor fellow, and interest made to obtain his pardon, for it will be remembered that the law says the condemned shall hang until he is dead; consequently, men who, like Redmond, recovered, are liable to be again hanged up until they are dead.

ROBERT EMMET.

EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.

This enthusiast was the son of Dr. Emmet, a man of good family, and possessed of considerable wealth; but who, having imbibed opinions favourable to republicanism, took care to instil them into his children. His eldest son was implicated in the Irish rebellion of 1798, and escaped with his life upon the terms offered to Arthur O'Connor, Dr. M'Nevin, and others, and accepted by them, and, like them, became an exile in a foreign land.

The hero of the present sketch was intended for the Irish Bar, and received a most liberal education. In Trinity College he became conspicuous, not only for his abilities, but for his display of eloquence in the "Historical Debating Society," a school which matured the talents of Bushe, Burrows, and several other members of the Irish Bar. Young Emmet, however, wanted discretion; and having too often avowed his political principles, a prosecution was threatened, to avoid which he precipitately fled to France, where his republican opinions were confirmed.

In 1803 he returned to Dublin, not being then more than twenty-four years of age, and found himself in possession of three thousand five hundred pounds, left him by his father, then recently deceased. With this money, and the talents and connexions which he possessed, he might easily have established his own independence; but the sober business of life had no attractions for him; he aspired to greater fame, and resolved to attempt the separation of his country from England.

Wild and extravagant as the scheme was, he entered seriously upon it, and easily found abettors among those who had escaped the angry vengeance of 1798. Having procured several associates, he took a house in Patrick-street, and converted it into a rebel depôt for powder, guns, swords, pikes, &c. In the purchase and preparation of these he expended upwards of one thousand pounds; but before the plan of insurrection was ripe, the powder in the magazine, through accident, ignited, and the whole depôt was blown into the air. Such, however, was the fidelity of Emmet's partisans, that no discovery took place, further than that caused by the explosion; and the government, who ordered the guns to be brought to the Castle, remained ignorant of the purpose for which those destructive implements were provided.

A mind so sanguine as that of Emmet was not to be damped by an accidental disappointment: he collected his partisans, took another house in a lane in Thomas-street, and again commenced preparations for a popular rebellion. The ramifications of treason were easily extended through Ireland, where the discontent of the Catholics induced them to join in any extravagant scheme which promised them redress of grievances. Emmet had correspondents in every county; and the 23rd of July 1803 was the day appointed for a general rising, the signal of which was to be an attack upon Dublin.

The plan of surprising the metropolis was admirably adapted for its sanguinary purpose; but fortunately several disappointments took place, and Emmet was unable to proceed as he intended. In the confusion of such a moment the rebels deceived one another, and several hundred men, who came in from the country, returned home, being told that the rising was postponed, while those who remained were crowded into the depôt, and impeded the preparations. It was too late, however, to retract, or alter the intended movement, as Emmet expected the whole country to rise on that night. He therefore made the desperate attempt, and, with eighty followers, sallied out, at nine o'clock, into Thomas-street, and made towards the Castle, which he intended to surprise.

The experience of a few minutes showed him his madness and folly; for he quickly found himself without authority, in the midst of a ruffianly mob, who would neither obey nor accompany him; but who soon convinced him, that, though cowardly, they were brutal and sanguinary. When he had arrived at the market-house, his followers had diminished to eighteen, and as he was now convinced of his rashness, he prevented the discharge of a rocket which was to be the signal for the outposts to commence hostilities. This act saved the lives of hundreds, for the Wexford men, to the number of three hundred, had assembled on the Coal-quay, and other large bodies had met in the barley-fields behind Mountjoy-square; all of whom, in consequence, escaped uninjured, and were prevented from inflicting injury on others.

The rebel band in Thomas-street, meanwhile, largely increased in numbers; but, being without a leader, they remained confused and inactive. At this moment, however, an act of atrocity was perpetrated, sufficiently serious to exhibit the nature of the design. The coach of the lamented Lord Kilwarden, chief-justice of the Court of King's Bench, containing his lordship, and his nephew and niece, the Rev. Mr. Wolfe, and Miss Wolfe, drove up, and was instantly surrounded. Much confusion prevailed, and his lordship received a deadly stab from the hand of an assassin which eventually deprived him of life: his nephew was dragged from the vehicle and ill-treated; but Miss Wolfe was borne to an opposite house in the arms of a lusty rebel, apparently more humane than his comrades.

The precise particulars of the murder of Lord Kilwarden are not known, and have always been the subject of controversy. By some it is alleged that it was the unpremeditated act of a ferocious rabble; by others, that he was mistaken for another person; but there is another account, which admits the mistake in the first instance, but subjoins other particulars, which appear sufficiently probable. It is related, that, in the year 1795, when his lordship was attorney-general, a number of young men, between the ages of fifteen and twenty years, were indicted for high treason, and upon the day appointed for their trial they appeared at the bar, wearing shirts with tuckers and open collars, in the manner usual with boys. When the chief-justice of the King's Bench appeared in court to proceed with their trial, he remarked, "Well, Mr. Attorney, I suppose you are ready to go on with the trial of these tuckered traitors?" The attorney-general was quite prepared to proceed at once; but, disgusted with the remark which had been made, he said, "No, my lord, I am not ready;" and he added in a lower tone to the prisoners' counsel, "If I have any power to save the lives of these boys, whose extreme youth I did not before observe, that man shall never have the gratification of passing sentence upon one of these tuckered traitors." He performed his promise, and soon afterwards procured pardons for them all, upon condition of their going abroad. One of them, however, refused to accept the pardon upon the condition imposed; and being obstinate, he was tried, convicted, and executed. After his death, it is said that his relatives, readily listening to every misrepresentation which flattered their resentment, became persuaded that the attorney-general had selected him alone to suffer the utmost severity of the laws. One of these, a person named Shannon, was an insurgent of the 23rd July; and when Lord Kilwarden, hearing the popular cry of vengeance, exclaimed from his carriage, "It is I, Kilwarden, chief-justice of the King's Bench," Shannon immediately cried out, "Then you are the man I want," and instantly plunged a pike into his lordship's body.

Whatever may be the truth or falsehood of this story, his lordship's death, there is no doubt, was the effect of the violence of the mob on this occasion; and it appears, that the fatal wound had scarcely been given, when a party of military reaching the spot, the people were put to flight, and his lordship's body rescued from further violence, and conveyed to Werburgh-street.

Major Swan soon after arrived, and in his fury at the attack upon so good a man, exclaimed indignantly, that every rebel taken with arms in his hands ought to be instantly hanged; when his lordship, who still lived, turned round, and impressively exhorted him "to let no man suffer but by the laws of his country." In a few minutes after, this great and good man expired.

For a few hours the rebels continued to skirmish with the military, and several men were killed. By morning, however, all appearance of rebellion had vanished, and large rewards were offered for the apprehension of the leader, Robert Emmet, who had escaped to the county of Wicklow, where he arrived in time to prevent a rising of the assembled rebels.

This unfortunate young man was every way an enthusiast; for his love was as extravagant as his patriotism. It appears that soon after his return from France he visited at the house of Curran, the celebrated Irish barrister, and became attached to that gentleman's youngest daughter. Their affection was mutual, but unknown to Mr. Curran. Upon the failure of the insurrection Emmet might easily have effected his departure from the kingdom, had he attended solely to his safety; but, in the same spirit of romantic enthusiasm which distinguished his short career, he could not submit to leave the country to which he could never more return, without making an effort to have one final interview with the object of his unfortunate attachment, in order to receive her personal forgiveness for what he now considered as the deepest injury. With a view of obtaining this last gratification, he selected a place of concealment midway between Mr. Curran's country-house and Dublin; but before the meeting took place he was arrested. On his person were found some papers, which showed that he corresponded with Mr. Curran's family, in consequence of which that gentleman's house was searched, and the letters there found were produced in evidence against him.

His trial came on, at the sessions-house, Green-street, Dublin, September the 19th, 1803, before Lord Norbury; and the evidence being conclusive, his conviction followed. When called upon in the usual way, before passing sentence, he addressed the Court as follows:--

"I am asked if I have anything to say why sentence of death should not be pronounced upon me. Was I to suffer only death, after being adjudged guilty, I should bow in silence; but a man in my situation has not only to combat with the difficulties of fortune, but also the difficulties of prejudice: the sentence of the law which delivers over his body to the executioner, consigns his character to obloquy. The man dies, but his memory lives; and that mine may not forfeit all claim to the respect of my countrymen, I use this occasion to vindicate myself from some of the charges advanced against me.

"I am charged with being an emissary of France:--'tis false! I am no emissary--I did not wish to deliver up my country to a foreign power, and least of all, to France. No! never did I entertain the idea of establishing French power in Ireland--God forbid! On the contrary, it is evident from the introductory paragraph of the Address of the Provisional Government, that every hazard attending an independent effort was deemed preferable to the more fatal risk of introducing a French army into the country. Small would be our claims to patriotism and to sense, and palpable our affectation of the love of liberty, if we were to encourage the profanation of our shores by a people who are slaves themselves, and the unprincipled and abandoned instruments of imposing slavery on others. If such an inference be drawn from any part of the proclamation of the Provisional Government, it calumniates their views, and is not warranted by the fact.--How could they speak of freedom to their countrymen? How assume such an exalted motive, and meditate the introduction of a power which has been the enemy of freedom in every part of the globe? Reviewing the conduct of France to other countries, could we expect better towards us? No! Let not, then, any man attaint my memory by believing that I could have hoped for freedom through the aid of France, and betrayed the sacred cause of liberty, by committing it to the power of her most determined foe: had I done so, I had not deserved to live; and dying with such a weight upon my character, I had merited the honest execration of that country which gave me birth, and to which I would have given freedom.

"Had I been in Switzerland, I would have fought against the French--in the dignity of freedom, I would have expired on the threshold of that country, and they should have entered it only by passing over my lifeless corpse. Is it, then, to be supposed, that I would be slow to make the same sacrifice to my native land? Am I, who lived but to be of service to my country, and who would subject myself to the bondage of the grave to give her independence--am I to be loaded with the foul and grievous calumny of being an emissary of France? My Lords, it may be part of the system of angry justice to bow a man's mind by humiliation to meet the ignominy of the scaffold; but worse to me than the scaffold's shame or the scaffold's terrors, would be the imputation of having been the agent of French despotism and ambition; and while I have breath I will call upon my countrymen not to believe me guilty of so foul a crime against their liberties and their happiness.

"Though you, my lord, sit there a judge, and I stand here a culprit, yet you are but a man, and I am another; I have a right therefore to vindicate my character and motives from the aspersions of calumny; and as a man to whom fame is dearer than life, I will make the last use of that life in rescuing my name and my memory from the afflicting imputation of having been an emissary of France, or seeking her interference in the internal regulation of our affairs.

"Did I live to see a French army approach this country, I would meet it on the shore with a torch in one hand and a sword in the other--I would receive them with all the destruction of war! I would animate my countrymen to immolate them in their very boats; and before our native soil should be polluted by a foreign foe, if they succeeded in landing, I would burn every blade of grass before them, raze every house, contend to the last for every inch of ground, and the last spot on which the hope of freedom should desert me, that spot I would make my grave: what I cannot do, I leave a legacy to my country, because I feel conscious that my death were unprofitable, and all hope of liberty extinct, the moment a French army obtained a footing in this land. God forbid that I should see my country under the hands of a foreign power. If the French should come as a foreign enemy, Oh! my countrymen! meet them on the shore with a torch in one hand, a sword in the other: receive them with all the destruction of war; immolate them in their boats before our native soil shall be polluted by a foreign foe! If they proceed in landing, fight them on the strand, burn every blade of grass before them as they advance--raze every house; and if you are driven to the centre of your country, collect your provisions, your property, your wives, and your daughters; form a circle around them--fight while but two men are left; and when but one remains, let that man set fire to the pile, and release himself, and the families of his fallen countrymen, from the tyranny of France.

"My lamp of life is nearly expired--my race is finished: the grave opens to receive me, and I sink into its bosom. All I request, then, at parting from the world, is the charity of its silence. Let no man write my epitaph; for as no man, who knows my motives, dare vindicate them, let not prejudice or ignorance asperse them; let them and me repose in obscurity and peace, and my tomb remain undescribed, till other times and other men can do justice to my character."

Judgment was then passed on him in the usual form, and he was ordered for execution. On his return to Newgate he drew up a statement of the insurrection, and the cause of its failure, which he requested might be sent to his brother, Thomas Addis, who was then at Paris.

The unfortunate young man, on the night before his execution, wrote to Mr. Curran and his son Robert, excusing himself for his conduct towards Miss Curran, and the firmness and regularity of the original hand-writing contain an affecting proof of the little influence which the approaching event exerted over his frame. The same enthusiasm which allured him to his destruction enabled him to support its utmost rigour. He met his fate with unostentatious fortitude; and although few could ever think of justifying his projects or regretting their failure, yet his youth, his talents, and the great respectability of his connexions, and the evident delusion of which he was the victim, have excited more general sympathy for his unfortunate end, and more forbearance towards his memory, than is usually extended to the errors or sufferings of political offenders.

Moore, the celebrated Irish bard, has lamented his fate in the following melody:--

Oh! breathe not his name--let it sleep in the shade! Where cold and unhonor'd his relics are laid! Sad, silent, and dark, be the tears that we shed, As the night-dew that falls on the grass o'er his head.

But the night-dew that falls, though in silence it weeps, Shall brighten with verdure the grave where he sleeps; And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls, Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.

Several of Emmet's deluded followers met the fate of their leader, and by their ignominious deaths, taught their countrymen the folly and madness of attempting to separate Ireland from this kingdom by violent means.

The following pathetic history of Miss Curran, after the death of her lover, is extracted from Washington Irving's "Sketch Book," in which it appears under the title of "The Broken Heart." It is rather long, but its beauty will amply repay the trouble of its perusal:--

"Every one must recollect the tragical story of young E----, the Irish patriot; it was too touching to be soon forgotten. During the troubles in Ireland he was tried, condemned, and executed, on a charge of treason. His fate made a deep impression on public sympathy. He was so young--so intelligent--so generous--so brave--so everything that we are apt to like in a young man. His conduct under trial, too, was so lofty and intrepid! The noble indignation with which he repelled the charge of treason against his country--the eloquent vindication of his name--and his pathetic appeal to posterity, in the hopeless hour of condemnation--all these entered deeply into every generous bosom, and even his enemies lamented the stern policy that dictated his execution.

"But there was one heart, whose anguish it would be impossible to describe. In happier days and fairer fortunes, he had won the affections of a beautiful and interesting girl, the daughter of a late celebrated Irish barrister. She loved him with the disinterested fervour of a woman's first and early love. When every worldly maxim arrayed itself against him; when blasted in fortune, and disgrace and danger darkened around his name, she loved him the more ardently for his very sufferings. If, then, his fate could awaken the sympathy even of his foes, what must have been the agony of her whose soul was occupied by his image! Let those tell who have had the portals of the tomb suddenly closed between them and the being they most loved on earth--who have sat at its threshold, as one shut out in a cold and lonely world, from whence all that was most lovely and loving had departed.

"But then the horrors of such a grave! so frightful, so dishonoured! There was nothing for memory to dwell on that could soothe the pang of separation--none of those tender, though melancholy circumstances, that endear the parting scene--nothing to melt sorrow into those blessed tears, sent, like the dews of heaven, to revive the heart in the parching hour of anguish.

"To render her widowed situation more desolate, she had incurred her father's displeasure by her unfortunate attachment, and was an exile from the paternal roof. But could the sympathy and kind offices of friends have reached a spirit so shocked and driven in by horror, she would have experienced no want of consolation; for the Irish are a people of quick and generous sensibilities. The most delicate and cherishing attentions were paid her by families of wealth and distinction. She was led into society, and they tried by all kinds of occupation and amusement to dissipate her grief, and wean her from the tragical story of her lover. But it was all in vain. There are some strokes of calamity that scathe and scorch the soul--that penetrate to the vital seat of happiness--and blast it, never again to put forth bud or blossom. She never objected to frequent the haunts of pleasure, but she was as much alone there as in the depth of solitude. She walked about in a sad reverie, apparently unconscious of the world around her. She carried with her an inward woe that mocked at all the blandishments of friendship, and 'heeded not the song of the charmer, charm he never so wisely.'

"The person who told me her story had seen her at a masquerade. There can be no exhibition of far-gone wretchedness more striking and painful than to meet it in such a scene. To find it wandering like a spectre, lonely and joyless, where all around is gay--to see it dressed out in the trappings of mirth, and looking so wan and woe-begone, as if it had tried in vain to cheat the poor heart into a momentary forgetfulness of sorrow. After strolling through the splendid rooms and giddy crowd with an utter air of abstraction, she sat herself down on the steps of an orchestra, and looking about some time with a vacant air, that showed her insensibility of the garish scene, she began, with the capriciousness of a sickly heart, to warble a little plaintive air. She had an exquisite voice; but on this occasion it was so simple, so touching, it breathed forth such a soul of wretchedness, that she drew a crowd mute and silent around her, and melted every one into tears.

"The story of one so true and tender could not but excite great interest in a country remarkable for enthusiasm. It completely won the heart of a brave officer, who paid his addresses to her, and thought that one so true to the dead could not but prove affectionate to the living. She declined his attentions, for her thoughts were irrevocably engrossed by the memory of her former lover. He, however, persisted in his suit. He solicited not her tenderness, but her esteem. He was assisted by her conviction of his worth, and her sense of her own destitute and dependent situation; for she was existing on the kindness of her friends. In a word, he at length succeeded in gaining her hand, though with the solemn assurance that her heart was unalterably another's.

"He took her with him to Sicily, hoping that a change of scene might wear out the remembrance of early woes. She was an amiable and exemplary wife, and made an effort to be a happy one; but nothing could cure the silent and devouring melancholy that had entered into her very soul. She wasted away in a slow, but hopeless decline; and at length sank into the grave, the victim of a broken heart."

COLONEL EDWARD MARCUS DESPARD, JOHN FRANCIS, JOHN WOOD, AND OTHERS.

EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.

The professed object of the plot, in which these misguided men were engaged, was neither more or less than the overthrow of the Government, and the destruction of the Royal Family.

The men, who were found guilty of being concerned in the project, were Edward Marcus Despard, aged fifty, a colonel in the army; John Francis, a private soldier, aged twenty-three; John Wood, a private soldier, aged thirty-six; Thomas Broughton, a carpenter, aged twenty-six; James Sedgwick Wratton, a shoemaker, aged thirty-five; John Macnamara, a carpenter, aged fifty; and Arthur Graham, a slater, aged fifty-three.

Colonel Despard, the ill-starred leader of the conspirators, was descended from a very ancient and respectable family, in the Queen's County in Ireland. He was the youngest of six brothers, all of whom, except the eldest, had served their country, either in the army or navy.

In 1766 he entered the army as an ensign in the 5th regiment; and he afterwards served in the same regiment as a lieutenant; and in the 79th he successively held rank as lieutenant, quarter-master, captain-lieutenant, and captain. From his superior officers he received many marks of approbation, particularly from General Calcraft, of the 50th, General Meadows, and the Duke of Northumberland. He had been, for the last twenty years before his execution, detached from any particular corps, and intrusted with important offices.

In 1779, he was appointed chief engineer to the St. Juan expedition, and conducted himself so as to obtain distinguished praise. He also received the thanks of the council and assembly of Jamaica, for the construction of public works there, and was, in consequence of these services, appointed, by the governor of Jamaica, to be commander-in-chief of the island of Rattan and its dependencies, and of the troops there; and to rank as lieutenant-colonel and field-engineer; and he commanded, as such, on the Spanish Main in Rattan, and on the Musquito shore, and Bay of Honduras. After this, at Cape Gracias á Dios, he put himself at the head of the inhabitants, who voluntarily solicited him to take the command, and retook from the Spaniards Black River, the principal settlement of the coast. For this service he received the thanks of the governor, council, and assembly of Jamaica, and of the king himself. In 1783, he was promoted to the rank of colonel. In 1784, he was appointed first commissioner for settling and receiving the territory ceded to Britain by the sixth article of the definitive treaty of peace with Spain, in 1783; and he so well discharged his duty as colonel, that he was appointed superintendant of his majesty's affairs on the coast of Honduras, which office he held much to the advantage of the crown of England, for he obtained from that of Spain some very important privileges. The clashing interests, however, of the inhabitants of this coast produced much discontent, and the colonel was, by a party of them, accused of various misdemeanours to his majesty's ministers.

He now came home, and demanded that his conduct should be investigated; but, after two years' constant attendance on all the departments of government, he was at last told by the ministers, that there was no charge against him worthy of notice, and that his Majesty had thought proper to abolish the office of superintendant at Honduras, otherwise he should have been reinstated in it; but he was then, and on every occasion, assured, that his services should not be forgotten, but that they should, in due time, meet their reward.

Irritated by continued disappointments, he began to vent his indignation in an unguarded manner, and thus rendering himself liable to suspicion, he was for a considerable time confined in Cold Bath-fields' Prison, under the provisions of the Habeas Corpus Suspension Act, then recently passed. On his liberation it was found that his passions were not cooled by the imprisonment which he had undergone; and inflamed against the government himself, he at length succeeded in gaining over to his views others whose causes of complaint were even more trivial than those of their leader. Their proceeding soon became so notorious, that it was determined that the existence of the society which they had formed was no longer consistent with public safety; and in consequence of representations which were made, a search-warrant was issued, which was placed in the hands of the police for execution. A strong body of constables having assembled, they all proceeded to the Oakley Arms, Oakley-street, Lambeth, where they found and apprehended Colonel Despard and about forty other persons assembled in a room together, the greater part of whom were men of indifferent character, and of low station in life. The prisoners were on the following day carried to Union Hall, to be examined by the magistrates sitting there; and in the end Colonel Despard, and thirty-two of his companions, were committed to Horsemonger-lane Gaol to await the final and determinate investigation of their cases before a jury.

For the better and more effectual trial of the prisoners, a special commission was issued, by virtue of which they were arraigned, on indictments which had been found against them, on the 7th February, 1803.

The first case gone into was that of Despard, and the indictment having been read, the case for the prosecution was opened by the attorney-general; and he stated that the prisoners had formed a society, the object of which was to overturn the government. His Majesty having intended to meet his Parliament a week earlier than he actually did, namely, on the 16th January instead of on the 23rd, the society proposed on that day to carry out their plan, which was in the first instance to lay a restraint upon the King's person, and to destroy him. They frequently attempted to seduce soldiers into their club, and on any of them being persuaded to join them, they administered false oaths to them, and gave them copies of the oath, in order that they might endeavour to make proselytes in their turn. Among others thus gained over was one Windsor, but soon after he had joined he became dissatisfied, and gave information of the conspiracy to a Mr. Bonus, to whom he showed a copy of the oath, but by the advice of that gentleman, he remained a member of the society with the design of learning whether there were any persons of note among its members. On the Friday before the intended assassination of the King, a meeting was held, at which Broughton, the prisoner, prevailed upon two of the associates to go to the Flying Horse, Newington, where they would meet with a "nice man," and it turned out that the person so described was Colonel Despard.

The witnesses were then examined; and after proof of the apprehension of the prisoners, as described already, had been given, and the printed papers which had been found, and which contained the form of the oath, &c., had been read, Thomas Windsor, the chief witness, was called.

He deposed as to the manner in which he took the oath, the effect of which was to bind him to support the views of the society in opposition to the King and his Government, and then proceeded to detail the plan which was proposed to be put into execution. Despard was the leader and director of the whole proceedings; and he recommended that the proposed attack should be made on that day when his Majesty went to open Parliament. The object was to seize the person of the King; and Despard declared that "he had weighed the matter well, and that his heart was callous, and the King must be put to death." When the murder of his Majesty had been effected, the mail-coaches were to be stopped, so as to convey information to the agents of the plotters in the country of what had occurred; and then a simultaneous rising was to take place. The witness was to be engaged as an active party in the proceedings of the conspirators, and he was desired by the prisoner to meet him on Tower-hill, with some comrades, who were desirous of joining the society, to consider the best mode of surprising the Tower and securing the arms. Accompanied by the prisoner Wood therefore, and two other men, he went to the Tiger public-house, Tower-hill, where Despard soon joined them. The determination to destroy the reigning monarch was then again mentioned by Despard; and after a long discussion, it was agreed that Wood, whose turn it would be to stand sentry in the Park, near the great gun, should fire into the King's carriage. Before this diabolical design, however, could be carried into execution, the parties to the plot were apprehended.

Mr. Serjeant Best and Mr. Gurney, who were retained as counsel for Despard, severally addressed the jury on his behalf, contending that the testimony of Windsor was of such a character as to be entitled to no belief; and they then called Lord Nelson, Sir A. Clarke, and Sir E. Nepean, all of whom bore testimony to the character of the prisoner as a zealous and gallant officer. Lord Ellenborough, however, having summed up the evidence, the jury returned a verdict of Guilty, but earnestly recommended the prisoner to mercy, on account of his previous good character, and the services he had rendered to his country.

The other prisoners were subsequently tried, and twelve of them convicted upon the same evidence, three of whom were recommended to mercy.

On the prisoners being brought up to receive judgment, Colonel Despard, who had hitherto invariably preserved a strict silence, declared his innocence of the charge imputed to him of seducing the soldiers, and urged that the jury ought not to have convicted him upon such evidence as had been adduced.

The sentence was then pronounced upon them as traitors in the usual form; and on Saturday the 19th of February, information was received that the warrant of execution, authorising their being hanged on the Monday following, was made out, a portion of their sentence, namely, the taking out and burning of the bowels, being remitted. It was sent to the keeper of the New Gaol in the Borough, at six o'clock on Saturday evening, and included the names already given, three other prisoners, named Newman, Tyndal and Lander, being respited. As soon as the warrant for execution was received, it was communicated to the unhappy persons by the keeper of the prison; when Colonel Despard observed that the time was short, yet he had not had, from the first, any strong expectation that the recommendation of the jury would be effectual. The mediation of Lord Nelson, and a petition to the crown, were tried; but Colonel Despard was convinced, according to report, that they would be unavailing. Mrs. Despard, who was a native of the Bay of Honduras, was greatly affected when she first heard his fate was sealed; but she afterwards recovered her fortitude, and bore up with great firmness at parting with her husband.

The other prisoners bore their doom with equal fortitude, but conducted themselves with less solemnity than the colonel. Their wives were allowed to take a farewell of them on the same day, and the scene was truly distressing.

At day-light on Sunday morning, the drop, scaffold, and gallows, on which they were to be executed, were erected on the top of the gaol. All the Bow-street patrol, and many other peace-officers, were on duty all day and night; and a large body of the military was drawn up close to it.

On the following morning, Monday the 21st of February, 1803, at half-past six o'clock, the prison bell rang--the signal for unlocking the cells. At seven, Broughton, Francis, Graham, Wood, and Wratton went into the chapel with the Rev. Mr. Winkworth. They attended to the prayers with great earnestness, but at the same time without seeming to lose that firmness which they had displayed since their trial. Before they received the sacrament, four of them confessed they had done wrong, but not to the extent charged against them by the evidence. The fifth, Graham, said that he was innocent of the charges brought against him; but he admitted that he had attended two meetings, the second at the instigation of Francis.

For some time the clergyman refused to administer the sacrament to Francis, because he persisted in declaring he had been guilty of no crime. The clergyman said to him, "You admit you attended meetings?" He answered, "Yes." "You knew they were for the purpose of overturning the constitution of the country? I by no means wish you to enter into particulars. I only wish you to acknowledge generally." Francis rejoined, "I admit I have done wrong in attending those meetings;" and the sacrament was then administered to them.

Colonel Despard and Macnamara were then brought down from their cells, their irons knocked off, and their arms bound with ropes. On observing the sledge and apparatus the colonel smilingly cried out, "Ha! ha! what nonsensical mummery is this!"

When the awful procession began, which was at half-past eight o'clock precisely, Macnamara was the first that came out. Colonel Despard was the last that appeared. He stept into the hurdle with much fortitude, having an executioner on the right and on the left, on the same seat, with naked cutlasses. He was thus conducted to the outer lodge, whence he ascended the staircase leading to the place of execution. The prisoners were preceded by the sheriff, Sir R. Ford, the clergyman, Mr. Winkworth, and the Roman Catholic clergyman, Mr. Griffith.

Coffins, or shells, which had been previously placed in a room under the scaffold, were then brought up, and placed on the platform, on which the drop was erected; a bag of sawdust, to catch the blood when the heads were severed from the bodies, was placed beside them. The block was near the scaffold. There were about a hundred spectators on the platform, among whom were some persons of distinction, but the greatest order was observed.

Macnamara was the first on the platform; and when the cord was placed round his neck, he exclaimed, "Lord Jesus, have mercy upon me! O Lord, look down with pity upon me!" The populace were much struck by his appearance. Graham came second; he looked pale and ghastly, but spoke not; Wratton was the third; he ascended the scaffold with much firmness. Broughton, who was the fourth, joined in prayer with much earnestness. Wood was the fifth, and Francis the sixth. They were all equally composed.

Colonel Despard ascended the scaffold with great firmness, and his countenance underwent not the slightest change while the awful ceremony of fastening the rope round his neck, and placing the cap on his head, was performing; he even assisted the executioner in adjusting the rope; and looked at the multitude with perfect calmness.

The clergyman, who ascended the scaffold after the prisoners were tied up, spoke to him a few words as he passed, and the colonel bowed and thanked him. The ceremony of fastening the prisoners being finished, the colonel advanced, as near as he could, to the edge of the scaffold, and made the following speech to the multitude:--

"Fellow Citizens,--I come here, as you see, after having served my country--faithfully, honourably, and usefully served it, for thirty years and upwards--to suffer death upon a scaffold for a crime of which I protest I am not guilty. I solemnly declare that I am no more guilty of it than any of you who may be now hearing me. But, though his Majesty's ministers know as well as I do that I am not guilty, yet they avail themselves of a legal pretext to destroy a man, because he has been a friend to truth, to liberty, and justice----" [There was a considerable huzza from part of the populace the nearest to him, but who, from the height of the scaffold from the ground, could not, for a certainty, distinctly hear what was said. The colonel proceeded]----"because he has been a friend to the poor and distressed. But, citizens, I hope and trust, notwithstanding my fate, and the fate of those who no doubt will soon follow me, that the principles of freedom, of humanity, and of justice, will finally triumph over falsehood, tyranny, and delusion, and every principle hostile to the interests of the human race. And now, having said this, I have little more to add----" [The colonel's voice seemed to falter a little here--he paused a moment, as if he had meant to say something more, but had forgotten it. He then concluded in the following manner.] "I have little more to add, except to wish you all health, happiness, and freedom, which I have endeavoured, as far as was in my power, to procure for you and for mankind in general."

The Colonel generally spoke in a firm and audible tone of voice, and left off sooner than was expected. There was no public expression of feeling at the conclusion of his address.

As soon as he had ceased speaking, the clergyman prayed with the other prisoners, and after a few minutes he shook each by the hand. The executioners then pulled the caps over the faces of the unhappy men, and having quitted the scaffold, the signal was immediately afterwards given, and the drop fell. The Colonel had not one struggle; twice he opened and shut his hands, convulsively, and he stirred no more. Macnamara, Graham, Wood, and Wratton were motionless after a few struggles, but Broughton and Francis were much convulsed for some time after their companions had ceased to live.

After they had hung for about half an hour, and when they were quite dead, they were cut down. Colonel Despard was the first who was removed from the gallows; his body was placed upon sawdust, and his head upon a block; and after his coat had been taken off, his head was severed from his body by persons engaged on purpose to perform that ceremony. The executioner then took the head by the hair, and carrying it to the edge of the parapet on the right hand, held it up to the view of the populace, and exclaimed "This is the head of a traitor, Edward Marcus Despard." The same ceremony was performed on the parapet at the left hand. There was some hooting and hissing when the colonel's head was exhibited. His remains were now put into the shell that had been prepared for them.

The other prisoners were afterwards successively cut down, their heads severed from their bodies, and exhibited to the populace, with the same exclamation of, "This is the head of another traitor:" and the bodies were put into their different shells, and delivered to their friends for interment.

The crowd at the entrance of Horsemonger-lane was immense; and as the time of execution drew near, the people from all parts came with such force as to bear down all opposition. Those who had been in dry situations were pushed into the middle of the road, where they stood almost up to the knees in mud, and many lost their shoes by the continual pushing and jostling.

While the heads were exhibiting, the populace took off their hats. The execution was over by ten o'clock, and the populace soon after dispersed quietly. There was not the least tendency to riot or disturbance. The precautions, however, taken by Government, were only such as were highly necessary and proper. A sky-rocket was sent to the keeper of the prison to be let off, as a signal to the military, in case of any disturbance.

The body of Colonel Despard having lain at Mount-row, opposite the Asylum, was taken away on the first of March, by his friends, with a hearse and three mourning-coaches, and interred near the north door of St. Paul's Cathedral, St. Paul's churchyard. The crowd was great; but when the grave was covered in, the people immediately and quietly dispersed. The city marshal was present, lest there should be any disturbance on the occasion.

JOHN HATFIELD.

EXECUTED FOR FORGERY.

The variety of the adventures of this man render his name worthy to be recorded in the annals of crime.

It appears that he was the son of poor parents, who lived at Mortram, near Longdale, in Cheshire, and that he was born there, in the year 1759. Having by some means procured the situation of rider or traveller to a linen-draper in the north of England, in the course of his travels he became acquainted with a young woman, who was under the guardianship of a respectable farmer, but who was in reality the natural daughter of Lord Robert Manners. The secret of her birth was not generally known, but it was communicated to our hero, with an intimation that upon her marriage, provided it should be with the consent of her father, a dowry of 1000_l._ would be paid. He therefore lost no time in securing the good will of the young lady, and having then obtained the consent of her noble father, he was married to her, and received from his lordship the sum of 1500_l._ The money, however, was soon spent in the gaieties of London, by the bridegroom, and with his wife he was compelled to retreat into the country, where he continued until the year 1782. He, then, again visited the metropolis, having deserted his wife and three children, and in spite of his fallen fortunes he proceeded to live in a style of considerable extravagance, boasting of his near connexion with the Rutland family, and of his estates in the country. In the course of his residence in London, his unhappy wife died, and our hero was almost immediately afterwards conveyed to the King's Bench Prison for a debt of 160_l._ By the practice of an imposture he succeeded in obtaining the payment of his debt by the Duke of Rutland, and his consequent discharge, and he was then again thrown upon town to live upon his wits.

In the year 1785, the Duke of Rutland was appointed lord-lieutenant of Ireland; and directly after his arrival in Dublin, Hatfield followed him, and taking up his abode at a hotel in College-green, acquainted the landlord with his pretended connexion with the viceroy, and declared that he was only prevented from proceeding at once to the Castle, by the circumstance of his carriage, and horses, and servants, not having yet arrived. A month was passed by the lodger in a pretended continued state of disappointment at the non-appearance of his equipage, and at the expiration of that period the landlord took the liberty of presenting his bill, which amounted to upwards of sixty pounds. Mr. Hatfield was in nowise confused, but said that although, fortunately, his agent was then in Ireland holding a public situation, he was, at that time, on a visit in the country, from which he would not return for three days. The landlord was satisfied; but on the fourth day he again made his appearance, and having been now directed to a gentleman at the Castle, he forthwith proceeded to him with his account. The answer was of a nature most unsatisfactory to his wishes; for the supposed agent very frankly told him, that he was the dupe of an impudent impostor; but he received some consolation from his being informed that others had suffered as well as he. His guest, however, was one who was no longer welcome at his table, but being under the necessity of driving him from his own house, he provided him with other lodgings in the Marshalsea, to which he was conveyed by virtue of a writ issued at his instance. On his entering the jail, Hatfield whispered the keeper and his wife, "to be sure and keep it a profound secret that he was a relation of the viceroy, as it might not be agreeable to his Excellency, that it should be known that he was in prison;" and the people, astonished at the discovery, which they then made for the first time, conducted him to the best apartment, had a table provided, and continued to furnish him with all the necessary commodities for his support during the ensuing three weeks. In the meantime, however, he had again petitioned the Duke for fresh supplies, and his Grace, being apprehensive that he might continue his impositions in Dublin, released him on condition of his quitting Ireland; and in order to be assured that this stipulation was obeyed, he sent a servant to see him on board the next vessel sailing for Holyhead.

He next visited Scarborough, and there practised similar impositions; but his frauds being discovered, he was arrested and lodged in jail, where he now continued for a period of eight years and a half. At the expiration of that time, a Miss Nation, of Devonshire, paid his debts and procured his liberation; and furthermore bestowed her hand on him in marriage. He then had the good fortune to obtain admission into a respectable firm at Tiverton as partner, and continued to live during about three years in apparent respectability; but then, having put up as a candidate for the borough of Queenborough, his real character was discovered, and he was made a bankrupt. He now retired, leaving his second wife and two children behind him; and nothing more was heard of him until the year 1802, when he drove up in a carriage to the Queen's Head Inn, at Keswick, and assumed the name of Colonel the Hon. Alexander Augustus Hope, brother of the Earl of Hopetoun, and member for Linlithgow. Unfortunately some evil genius directed his steps to the once happy cottage of poor Mary, the only daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Robinson, an old couple, who kept a small public-house at the side of the beautiful lake of Buttermere, Cumberland; and who, by their industry, had amassed a small property; and poor Mary of Buttermere, whose charms have since become so celebrated from Wordsworth's sweet poem in which they are described, was doomed to become the victim of his villanous schemes. During a short stay at Buttermere, he contrived to wheedle himself into the good graces of poor Mary; but he was not to be satisfied with the possession of a country girl, when higher game came in view. On his first arrival at Keswick, he became acquainted with an Irish gentleman named Murphy, a member of the then existing Irish House of Commons, who with his family, and accompanied by a young lady, possessed of a considerable fortune, and no less personal attractions, was on a tour through the justly admired lakes of England. The affable condescension with which his advances were received, induced him to suppose, that his address and manners were not displeasing to the young lady, or her guardian, and he resolved to improve upon the opportunity which presented itself. Quitting the society of the gentle Mary, therefore, he returned to Keswick, and, ere long, he had so far ingratiated himself with the young lady, as to obtain from her a promise of her hand in marriage. Being known only by his assumed title, he was urged to write to Lord Hopetoun, to acquaint him with the intended union, and he promised instantly to comply with a request which appeared so reasonable. Writing letters, therefore, which by virtue of his pretended rank of M.P. he franked, he despatched them, and until answers were received, he proposed various trips to while away the time. The preparations for the marriage, however, occupied the time and attention of the young lady to too great a degree to permit her quitting Keswick, and Hatfield seized the opportunity to continue his courtship to the Beauty of Buttermere. In this manner some weeks elapsed, without any communication being received from the Earl of Hopetoun; and the frequent, and now prolonged, absences of the supposed colonel excited some degree of surprise among his Irish friends.

At length, on the 1st October 1802, a letter was received from Hatfield, dated Buttermere, by Mr. Murphy, in which a request was contained that a draft inclosed, purporting to be drawn by Col. Hope, on Mr. Crampt, a banker in Liverpool, might be cashed; and that gentleman, still having no good reason to doubt the integrity of his correspondent, immediately transmitted to him 30_l._, the amount of the check. On the 4th of the same month, however, Wood, the landlord of the Queen's Head, where the whole party had been stopping, brought over intelligence from the village of Lorton, in Buttermere, that Colonel Hope had been married on the previous day to Mary Robinson. On inquiry it turned out that this was perfectly true, and that the marriage having taken place, the bride and bridegroom had gone into Scotland to spend the honeymoon; and it being now obvious, that the latter, whoever he might be, had acted most dishonourably towards his ward, Mr. Murphy determined to write to Lord Hopetoun, for the purpose of ascertaining how far he was entitled to the name and rank which he had assumed. Circumstances soon transpired, which induced a belief that he had no pretensions to the character which he had taken, and a warrant was issued for his apprehension. In the meantime, he had proceeded with his bride, as far as Longtown, on their wedding trip, but on reaching that spot, he pretended surprise at not meeting some friends, whom, he said, he had expected, and returned to Buttermere. He was there charged with having assumed a fictitious name, but he flatly denied the truth of the allegation; but the warrant being brought, by which he was alleged to have forged several franks, as M.P. for Linlithgow, he was committed to the care of a constable. He, however, found means to make his escape from this custody; and having with great boldness passed through several towns, where his person was known, he was at length apprehended within sixteen miles of Swansea, and committed to Brecon jail. Before the magistrates, he declared that his name was Tudor Henry, but his person being identified, he was sent to London to be examined. He was then transmitted to Cumberland, where he was charged with forging several franks, and also with forging the bill for which he had obtained cash at Keswick, and he was committed for trial; the charge for bigamy, which also stood against him, not being preferred.

He was indicted at the ensuing assizes at Carlisle, and tried before Sir A. Thompson, when the jury found him guilty, and he was sentenced to death.

A notion very generally prevailed that he would escape capital punishment, and the arrival of the mail was daily expected with the greatest impatience. No pardon arriving, however, September 3, 1803, (Saturday,) was at last fixed upon for the execution.

The gallows was erected on the preceding night, between twelve and three, in an island formed by the river Eden, on the north side of the town, between the two bridges. From the hour when the jury found him guilty, he behaved with the utmost serenity and cheerfulness. He received the visits of all who wished to see him, and talked upon the topics of the day with the greatest interest or indifference. He could scarcely ever be brought to speak of his own case, and he neither blamed the verdict, nor made any confession of his guilt. He said that he had no intention to defraud those whose names he forged; but was never heard to say that he was to die unjustly. The alarming nature of the crime of forgery, in a commercial country, had taught him from the beginning to entertain no hope of mercy.

By ten o'clock in the morning of September 3, his irons were struck off; and he then appeared as usual, and no alteration or increased agitation, whatever, was observed in his manner.

Soon after ten o'clock he sent for the "Carlisle Journal," and perused it for some time, and a little after he had laid aside the paper, two clergymen attended him, and prayed with him. He afterwards wrote several letters and shaved himself, and at three o'clock he ate a hearty dinner with the jailor. Having afterwards drunk two glasses of wine, he partook of some coffee, and then set out for the scaffold. He was pinioned in the turnkey's lodge, where he sent for the executioner and gave him some silver. He afterwards exhibited great composure, and when he came to the gallows, he asked whether that "was the tree he was to die on?" On being answered in the affirmative, he exclaimed, "Oh! a happy sight, I see it with pleasure."

He then ascended the cart, which had been placed under the rope, and appeared perfectly cool and collected. Having himself assisted in completing the requisite preparations, he took leave of the sheriffs, and prepared himself calmly for his fate.

On his being turned off, great apprehensions were entertained that it would be necessary to tie him up a second time. The noose slipped twice, and he fell down above eighteen inches, and his feet at last were almost touching the ground; but his excessive weight, which occasioned this accident, speedily relieved him from pain. He expired in a moment, and without any struggle.

He was cut down after he had hung about an hour. On the preceding Wednesday he had had a carpenter to take his measure for his coffin, and he ordered it to be a strong oak one, plain and neat, requesting that, after he was taken down, he might be put into it immediately, with the apparel he might have on, and carried to the churchyard of Burgh-on-Sands, there to be interred in the evening.

The conscientious parishioners of Burgh, however, objected to his being laid there, and the body was consequently conveyed in the hearse to St. Mary's, Carlisle, where it was interred in a distant corner of the churchyard, far from the other tombs. No priest attended, and the coffin was lowered without any religious service. Notwithstanding his various and complicated enormities, his untimely end excited considerable commiseration. His manners were extremely polished and insinuating, and he was possessed of qualities which might have rendered him an ornament of society.

FRANCIS SMITH.

CONDEMNED FOR THE MURDER OF A SUPPOSED GHOST.

The Hammersmith Ghost will be in the remembrance of every one. Its vagaries and mischievous pranks were in some cases productive of very serious consequences, and in no instance were more melancholy effects produced than in that of the unfortunate prisoner, whose case is now before us, who shot a poor man, who offended only in wearing the garb of his trade at night, and who was afterwards tried and condemned to death for the offence.

Among the other evil effects produced by the absurd proceedings of the ghost, it appears that one poor woman in particular, who was far advanced in her pregnancy of a second child, was so much shocked on seeing him, that she took to her bed, and survived only two days. She had been crossing near the churchyard about ten o'clock at night, when she beheld something, as she described, rise from the tomb-stones. The figure was very tall, and very white. She attempted to run, but the ghost soon overtook her, and, pressing her in his arms, she fainted, and fell to the ground. In this situation she remained some hours, till discovered by some neighbours, who kindly led her home, when she took to her bed, from which she never rose.

The ghost had so much alarmed a waggoner, belonging to Mr. Russel, driving a team of eight horses, and which had sixteen passengers at the time, that the driver took to his heels, and left the waggon and horses so precipitately, that the whole were greatly endangered.

Francis Smith, the subject of this sketch, doubtless incensed at the unknown person who was in the habit of assuming this supernatural character, and thus frightening the superstitious inhabitants of the village, rashly determined on watching for, and shooting the ghost; when unfortunately he shot a poor man, named Thomas Milwood, a bricklayer, who was in a white dress, the usual habiliment of his occupation. This rash act having been judged wilful murder by the coroner's inquest, Smith was committed to jail, and took his trial at the ensuing sessions at the Old Bailey, on the 13th January.

The evidence adduced was, that the unfortunate deceased had quitted the residence of his father and mother only five minutes before he was killed; and that, as he was passing along Black Lion-lane, the prisoner saw him and called out, "Damn you, who are you? I'll shoot you, if you don't speak." No answer was returned, and the prisoner then fired and the contents of his gun struck the deceased on the jaw, and he fell down dead. The prisoner immediately went in search of assistance, but it was found to be too late, and he then surrendered himself into custody. It afterwards proved that he had agreed with a watchman to go in search of the ghost; and that his only object was to rid the neighbourhood of the visitor, who had occasioned so much mischievous alarm.

The defence set up was that no bad design actuated the prisoner in his attack upon the supposed spirit, and many witnesses were called, who proved the alarm which had been occasioned by the visits of a preternatural being.

The Lord Chief Baron, Mr. Justice Rooke, and Mr. Justice Lawrence, who were on the Bench, severally expressed their opinion, that the case proved amounted to murder; and that if a man killed another by design, without authority, but from a supposition that he ought to be killed, the offence amounted to murder. The Jury attempted to bring in a verdict of manslaughter only, but the opinion of the learned Judges being repeated they returned a general verdict of guilty, and recommended the prisoner to mercy.

The Recorder then passed sentence of death on the prisoner in the usual form; which was, that he should be executed on the following Monday, and his body given to the surgeons to be dissected.

The prisoner, who was dressed in a suit of black clothes, was twenty-nine years of age, a short but well-made man, with dark hair and eye brows; and the pallid hue of his countenance, during the whole trial, together with all the signs of contrition which he exhibited, commanded the sympathy of every spectator.

The case excited great interest, and the Court and its environs were crowded during the trial, by persons anxious to learn his fate.

The Lord Chief Baron having told the jury, after they had given their verdict, that he would immediately report the case to his Majesty, was so speedy in this humane office, that a respite during pleasure was sent to the Old Bailey before seven o'clock, and on the twenty-fifth, the prisoner received a pardon on condition of his being imprisoned during one year.

The ghost appears to have taken alarm at the consequences of his absurd trifling with the feelings of his fellow subjects, and he was not again seen.

We cannot dismiss this subject without referring to other cases of supposed ghosts, which in their time attracted no inconsiderable portion of public attention, and excited no small degree of alarm. The most famous of these was known by the name of the "Cock Lane Ghost," and the circumstances connected with the case are so curious, and afford so fair a specimen of the easy credulity even of well-informed and otherwise sensible people, that we feel little hesitation in placing an account of them before our readers.

The Cock Lane Ghost kept London in a state of commotion for no short time, and was the universal theme of conversation among the learned and the illiterate, and in every circle of society, "from the prince to the peasant." It appears that at the commencement of the year 1760, there resided in Cock Lane, near West Smithfield, in the house of one Parsons, the parish clerk of St. Sepulchre's, a stockbroker, named Kent. The wife of this gentleman had died in child-bed during the previous year; and his sister-in-law, Miss Fanny, had arrived from Norfolk to keep his house for him. They soon conceived a mutual affection, and each of them made a will in the other's favour. They lived some months in the house of Parsons, who, being a needy man, borrowed money of his lodger. Some differences arose betwixt them, and Mr. Kent left the house, and instituted legal proceedings against the parish clerk for the recovery of his money.

While this matter was yet pending, Miss Fanny was suddenly taken ill of the small-pox, and, notwithstanding every care and attention, she died in a few days, and was buried in a vault under Clerkenwell church. Parsons now began to hint that the poor lady had come unfairly by her death, and that Mr. Kent was accessory to it, from his too great eagerness to enter into possession of the property she had bequeathed him. Nothing further was said for nearly two years; but it would appear that Parsons was of so revengeful a character, that he had never forgotten or forgiven his differences with Mr. Kent, and the indignity of having been sued for the borrowed money. The strong passions of pride and avarice were silently at work during all that interval, hatching schemes of revenge, but dismissing them one after the other as impracticable, until, at last, a notable one suggested itself. About the beginning of the year 1762, the alarm was spread over all the neighbourhood of Cock Lane, that the house of Parsons was haunted by the ghost of poor Fanny, and that the daughter of Parsons, a girl about twelve years of age, had several times seen and conversed with the spirit, who had, moreover, informed her, that she had not died of the small-pox, as was currently reported, but of poison, administered by Mr. Kent. Parsons, who originated, took good care to countenance these reports; and, in answer to numerous inquiries, said his house was every night, and had been for two years--in fact ever since the death of Fanny, troubled by a loud knocking at the doors and in the walls. Having thus prepared the ignorant and credulous neighbours to believe or exaggerate for themselves what he had told them, he sent for a gentleman of a higher class in life, to come and witness these extraordinary occurrences. The gentleman came accordingly, and found the daughter of Parsons, to whom the spirit alone appeared, and whom alone it answered, in bed, trembling violently, having just seen the ghost, and been again informed that she had died from poison. A loud knocking was also heard from every part of the chamber, which so mystified the not very clear understanding of the visiter, that he departed, afraid to doubt and ashamed to believe, but with a promise to bring the clergyman of the parish and several other gentlemen on the following day, to report upon the mystery.

On the following night he returned, bringing with him three clergymen, and about twenty other persons, including two negroes, when, upon a consultation with Parsons, they resolved to sit up the whole night, and await the ghost's arrival. It was then explained by Parsons, that although the ghost would never render itself visible to anybody but his daughter, it had no objection to answer the questions that might be put to it by any person present, and that it expressed an affirmation by one knock, a negative by two, and its displeasure by a kind of scratching. The child was then put into bed along with her sister, and the clergymen examined the bed and bed-clothes to satisfy themselves that no trick was played, by knocking upon any substance concealed among the clothes, as, on the previous night, the bed was observed to shake violently.

After some hours, during which they all waited with exemplary patience, the mysterious knocking was heard in the wall, and the child declared that she saw the ghost of poor Fanny. The following questions were then gravely put by the clergyman, through the medium of one Mary Frazer, the servant of Parsons, and to whom it was said the deceased lady had been much attached. The answers were in the usual fashion, by a knock or knocks:--

"Do you make this disturbance on account of the ill usage you received from Mr. Kent?"--"Yes."

"Were you brought to an untimely end by poison?"--"Yes."

"How was the poison administered, in beer or in purl?"--"In purl."

"How long was that before your death?"--"About three hours."

"Can your former servant, Carrots, give any information about the poison?"--"Yes."

"Are you Kent's wife's sister?"--"Yes."

"Were you married to Kent after your sister's death?"--"No."

"Was anybody else, besides Kent, concerned in your murder?"--"No."

"Can you, if you like, appear visibly to any one?"--"Yes."

"Will you do so?"--"Yes."

"Can you go out of this house?"--"Yes."

"Is it your intention to follow this child about everywhere?"--"Yes."

"Are you pleased in being asked these questions?"--"Yes."

"Does it ease your troubled soul?"--"Yes."

[Here there was heard a mysterious noise, which some wiseacre present compared to the fluttering of wings.]

"How long before your death did you tell your servant, Carrots, that you were poisoned?--An hour?"--"Yes."

[Carrots, who was present, was appealed to; but she stated positively that such was not the fact, as the deceased was quite speechless an hour before her death. This shook the faith of some of the spectators, but the examination was allowed to continue.]

"How long did Carrots live with you?"--"Three or four days."

[Carrots was again appealed to, and said that this was true.]

"If Mr. Kent is arrested for this murder, will he confess?"--"Yes."

"Would your soul be at rest if he were hanged for it?"--"Yes."

"Will he be hanged for it?"--"Yes."

"How long a time first?"--"Three years."

"How many clergymen are there in this room?"--"Three."

"How many negroes?"--"Two."

"Is this watch (held up by one of the clergymen) white?"--"No."

"Is it yellow?"--"No."

"Is it blue?"--"No."

"Is it black?"--"Yes."

[The watch was in a black shagreen case.]

"At what time this morning will you take your departure?"

The answer to this question was four knocks, very distinctly heard by every person present; and accordingly, at four o'clock precisely, the ghost took its departure to the Wheatsheaf public-house, close by, where it frightened mine host and his lady almost out of their wits by knocking in the ceiling right above their bed.

The rumour of these occurrences very soon spread over London, and every day Cock-lane was rendered impassable by the crowds of people who assembled around the house of the parish clerk, in expectation of either seeing the ghost or of hearing the mysterious knocks. It was at last found necessary, so clamorous were they for admission within the haunted precincts, to admit those only who would pay a certain fee; an arrangement which was very convenient to the needy and money-loving Mr. Parsons. Indeed, things had taken a turn greatly to his satisfaction; he not only had his revenge, but he made a profit out of it. The ghost, in consequence, played its antics every night, to the great amusement of many hundreds of people, and the great perplexity of a still greater number.

Unhappily, however, for the parish clerk, the ghost was induced to make some promises which were the means of utterly destroying its reputation. It promised, in answer to the questions of the Reverend Mr. Aldritch of Clerkenwell, that it would not only follow the little Miss Parsons wherever she went, but would also attend him, or any other gentleman, into the vault under St. John's church, where the body of the murdered woman was deposited, and would there give notice of its presence by a distinct knock upon the coffin. As a preliminary, the girl was conveyed to the house of Mr. Aldritch near the church, where a large party of ladies and gentlemen, eminent for their acquirements, their rank, or their wealth, had assembled. About ten o'clock on the night of the 1st of February, the girl, having been brought from Cock-lane in a coach, was put to bed by several ladies in the house of Mr. Aldritch, a strict examination having been previously made that nothing was hidden in the bedclothes. While the gentlemen, in an adjoining chamber, were deliberating whether they should proceed in a body to the vault, they were summoned into the bedroom by the ladies, who affirmed, in great alarm, that the ghost was come, and that they heard the knocks and scratches. The gentlemen entered accordingly, with a determination to suffer no deception. The little girl, on being asked whether she saw the ghost, replied, "No; but she felt it on her back like a mouse." She was then required to put her hands out of bed, and they being held by some of the ladies, the spirit was summoned in the usual manner to answer, if it were in the room. The question was several times put with great solemnity; but the customary knock was not heard in reply in the walls, neither was there any scratching. The ghost was then asked to render itself visible, but it did not choose to grant the request. It was next solicited to give some token of its presence by a sound of any sort, or by touching the hand or cheek of any lady or gentleman in the room; but even with this request the ghost would not comply.

There was now a considerable pause, and one of the clergymen went down-stairs to interrogate the father of the girl, who was waiting the result of the experiment. He positively denied that there was any deception, and even went so far as to say that he himself, upon one occasion, had seen and conversed with the awful ghost. This having been communicated to the company, it was unanimously resolved to give the ghost another trial; and the clergyman called out in a loud voice to the supposed spirit that the gentleman to whom it had promised to appear in the vault was about to repair to that place, where he claimed the fulfilment of its promise. At one hour after midnight they all proceeded to the church, and the gentleman in question, with another, entered the vault alone, and took up their position alongside of the coffin of poor Fanny. The ghost was then summoned to appear, but it appeared not; it was summoned to knock, but it knocked not; it was summoned to scratch, but it scratched not; and the two retired from the vault, with the firm belief that the whole business was a deception practised by Parsons and his daughter. There were others, however, who did not wish to jump so hastily to a conclusion, and who suggested that they were, perhaps, trifling with this awful and supernatural being, which, being offended with them for their presumption, would not condescend to answer them. Again, after a serious consultation, it was agreed on all hands that, if the ghost answered anybody at all, it would answer Mr. Kent, the supposed murderer; and he was accordingly requested to go down into the vault. He went with several others, and summoned the ghost to answer whether he had indeed poisoned her. There being no answer, the question was put by Mr. Aldritch, who conjured it, if it were indeed a spirit, to end their doubts--make a sign of its presence, and point out the guilty person. There being still no answer for the space of half an hour, during which time all these boobies waited with the most praiseworthy perseverance, they returned to the house of Mr. Aldritch, and ordered the girl to get up and dress herself. She was strictly examined, but persisted in her statement that she used no deception, and that the ghost had really appeared to her.

So many persons had, by their openly expressed belief of the reality of the visitation, identified themselves with it, that Parsons and his family were far from being the only persons interested in the continuance of the delusion. The result of the experiment convinced most people; but these were not to be convinced by any evidence, however positive, and they therefore spread about the rumour, that the ghost had not appeared in the vault, because Mr. Kent had taken care beforehand to have the coffin removed. That gentleman, whose position was a very painful one, immediately procured competent witnesses, in whose presence the vault was entered, and the coffin of poor Fanny opened. Their deposition was then published; and Mr. Kent indicted Parsons and his wife, his daughter, Mary Frazer the servant, the Rev. Mr. Moor, and a tradesman, two of the most prominent patrons of the deception, for a conspiracy. The trial came on in the Court of King's Bench, on the 10th of July, before Lord Chief-Justice Mansfield, when, after an investigation which lasted twelve hours, the whole of the conspirators were found guilty. The Rev. Mr. Moor and his friend were severely reprimanded in open court, and recommended to make some pecuniary compensation to the prosecutor for the aspersions they had been instrumental in throwing upon his character. Parsons was sentenced to stand three times in the pillory, and to be imprisoned for two years: his wife to one year's, and his servant to six months' imprisonment in the Bridewell. A printer, who had been employed by them to publish an account of the proceedings for their profit, was also fined fifty pounds, and discharged.

The precise manner in which the deception was carried on has never been explained. The knocking in the wall appears to have been the work of Parsons' wife, while the scratching part of the business was left to the little girl. That any contrivance so clumsy could have deceived anybody, cannot fail to excite our wonder. But thus it always is. If two or three persons can only be found to take the lead in any absurdity, however great, there is sure to be plenty of imitators. Like sheep in a field, if one clears the stile, the rest will follow.

About ten years afterwards, London was again alarmed by the story of a haunted house. Stockwell, near Vauxhall, the scene of the antics of this new ghost, became almost as celebrated in the annals of superstition as Cock Lane. Mrs. Golding, an elderly lady, who resided alone with her servant, Anne Robinson, was sorely surprised on the evening of Twelfth-day, 1772, to observe a most extraordinary commotion among her crockery. Cups and saucers rattled down the chimney--pots and pans were whirled down stairs, or through the windows; and hams, cheeses, and loaves of bread disported themselves upon the floor as if the devil were in them. This, at least, was the conclusion that Mrs. Golding came to; and being greatly alarmed, she invited some of her neighbours to stay with her, and protect her from the evil one. Their presence, however, did not put a stop to the insurrection of china, and every room in the house was in a short time strewed with the fragments. The chairs and tables joined, at last, in the tumult, and things looked altogether so serious and inexplicable, that the neighbours, dreading that the house itself would next be seized with a fit of motion, and tumble about their ears, left poor Mrs. Golding to bear the brunt of it by herself. The ghost in this case was solemnly remonstrated with, and urged to take its departure; but the demolition continuing as great as before, Mrs. Golding finally made up her mind to quit the house altogether. She took refuge with Anne Robinson in the house of a neighbour; but his glass and crockery being immediately subjected to the same persecution, he was reluctantly compelled to give her notice to quit. The old lady, thus forced back to her own house, endured the disturbance for some days longer, when suspecting that Anne Robinson was the cause of all the mischief, she dismissed her from her service. The extraordinary appearances immediately ceased, and were never afterwards renewed; a fact which is of itself sufficient to point out the real disturber. A long time afterwards, Anne Robinson confessed the whole matter to the Rev. Mr. Brayfield. This gentleman confided the story to Mr. Hone, who has published an explanation of the mystery. Anne, it appears, was anxious to have a clear house, to carry on an intrigue with her lover, and resorted to this trick to effect her purpose. She placed the china on the shelves in such a manner that it fell on the slightest motion, and attached horse-hairs to other articles, so that she could jerk them down from an adjoining room without being perceived by any one. She was exceedingly dexterous at this sort of work, and would have proved a formidable rival to many a juggler by profession.

In later days, the alarming vagaries of "Swing," and "Spring-heeled Jack," have occasioned scarcely less alarm. Their claims to supernatural powers have not been supported by such plausible evidence as those of any of the ghosts which we have yet named, but their proceedings have been no less troublesome and mischievous to the well-disposed of the subjects of this realm.

One or two anecdotes with regard to haunted houses, though rather beside the immediate object of this work, may yet prove interesting, as illustrative of the general subject of ghosts, and the degree of belief to be put in such supernatural visitors.

One of the best stories which we recollect to have heard of a haunted house, is that which is related of the Royal Palace at Woodstock, in the year 1649, when the commissioners sent from London by the Long Parliament to take possession of it, and efface all the emblems of royalty about it, were fairly driven out by their fear of the devil, and the annoyances they suffered from a roguish cavalier, who played the imp to admiration. The commissioners, dreading at that time no devil, arrived at Woodstock on the 13th of October 1649. They took up their lodgings in the late King's apartments--turned the beautiful bed-rooms and withdrawing-rooms into kitchens and sculleries--the council-hall into a brewhouse, and made the dining-room a place to keep firewood in. They pulled down all the insignia of royal state, and treated with the utmost indignity everything that recalled to their memory the name or the majesty of Charles Stuart. One Giles Sharp accompanied them in the capacity of clerk, and seconded their efforts apparently with the greatest zeal. He aided them to uproot a noble old tree, merely because it was called the King's Oak, and tossed the fragments into the dining-room to make cheerful fires for the commissioners. During the first two days they heard some strange noises about the house, but they paid no great attention to them. On the third, however, they began to suspect they had got into bad company; for they heard, as they thought, a supernatural dog under their bed, which gnawed their bedclothes. On the next day the chairs and tables began to dance, apparently of their own accord. On the fifth day, something came into the bedchamber and walked up and down, and fetching the warming-pan out of the withdrawing-room, made so much noise with it that they thought five church-bells were ringing in their ears. On the sixth day, the plates and dishes were thrown up and down the dining-room. On the seventh, they penetrated into the bed-room in company with several logs of wood, and usurped the soft pillows intended for the commissioners. On the eighth and ninth nights, there was a cessation of hostilities; but on the tenth the bricks in the chimneys became locomotive, and rattled and danced about the floors, and round the heads of the commissioners all the night long. On the eleventh, the demon ran away with their breeches; and on the twelfth filled their beds so full of pewter-platters that they could not get into them. On the thirteenth night, the glass became unaccountably seized with a fit of cracking, and fell into shivers in all parts of the house. On the fourteenth, there was a noise as if forty pieces of artillery had been fired off, and a shower of pebble-stones, which so alarmed the commissioners, that, "struck with great horror, they cried out to one another for help."

They first of all tried the efficacy of prayers to drive away the evil spirits; but these proving unavailing, they began seriously to reflect whether it would not be much better to leave the place altogether to the devil that inhabited it. They ultimately resolved, however, to try it a little longer; and having craved forgiveness of all their sins, betook themselves to bed. That night they slept in tolerable comfort, but it was merely a trick of their tormentor to lull them into false security. When, on the succeeding night, they heard no noises, they began to flatter themselves that the devil was driven out, and prepared accordingly to take up their quarters for the whole winter in the palace. These symptoms on their part became the signal for renewed uproar among the fiends. On the 1st of November, they heard something walking with a slow and solemn pace up and down the withdrawing-room, and immediately afterwards a shower of stones, bricks, mortar, and broken glass pelted about their ears. On the 2nd the steps were again heard in the withdrawing-room, sounding to their fancy very much like the treading of an enormous bear, which continued for about a quarter of an hour. This noise having ceased, a large warming-pan was thrown violently upon the table, followed by a number of stones, and the jawbone of a horse. Some of the boldest walked valiantly into the withdrawing-room, armed with swords and pistols, but could discover nothing. They were afraid that night to go to sleep, and sat up, making fires in every room, and burning candles and lamps in great abundance; thinking that, as the fiends loved darkness, they would not disturb a company surrounded with so much light. They were deceived, however: buckets of water came down the chimneys and extinguished the fires, and the candles were blown out, they knew not how. Some of the servants who had betaken themselves to bed were drenched with putrid ditch-water as they lay; and arose in great fright, muttering incoherent prayers, and exposing to the wondering eyes of the commissioners their linen all dripping with green moisture, and their knuckles red with the blows they had at the same time received from some invisible tormentors. While they were still speaking, there was a noise like the loudest thunder, or the firing of a whole park of artillery; upon which they all fell down upon their knees and implored the protection of the Almighty. One of the commissioners then arose, the others still kneeling, and asked in a courageous voice, and in the name of God, who was there, and what they had done that they should be troubled in that manner. No answer was returned, and the noises ceased for a while. At length, however, as the commissioners said, "the devil came again, and brought with it seven devils worse than itself." Being again in darkness, they lighted a candle and placed it in the doorway that it might throw a light upon the two chambers at once; but it was suddenly blown out, and one commissioner said that he had "seen the similitude of a horse's hoof striking the candle and candlestick into the middle of the chamber, and afterwards making three escapes on the snuff to put it out." Upon this, the same person was so bold as to draw his sword; but he asserted positively that he had hardly withdrawn it from the scabbard before an invisible hand seized hold of it and tugged with him for it, and prevailing, struck him so violent a blow with the pommel that he was quite stunned. Then the noises began again; upon which, with one accord, they all retired into the presence-chamber, where they passed the night, praying and singing psalms.

They were by this time convinced that it was useless to struggle any longer with the powers of evil, that seemed determined to make Woodstock their own. These things happened on the Saturday night; and, being repeated on the Sunday, they determined to leave the place immediately, and return to London. By Tuesday morning early, all their preparations were completed; and shaking the dust off their feet, and devoting Woodstock and all its inhabitants to the infernal gods, they finally took their departure.[15]

Many years elapsed before the true cause of these disturbances was discovered. It was ascertained, at the Restoration, that the whole was the work of Giles Sharp, the trusty clerk of the commissioners. This man whose real name was Joseph Collins, was a concealed royalist, and had passed his early life within the bowers of Woodstock; so that he knew every hole and corner of the place, and the numerous trap-doors and secret passages that abounded in the building. The commissioners, never suspecting the true state of his opinions, but believing him to be revolutionary to the back-bone, placed the utmost reliance upon him; a confidence which he abused in the manner above detailed, to his own great amusement, and that of the few cavaliers whom he let into the secret.

Quite as extraordinary and as cleverly managed was the trick played off at Tedworth, in 1661, at the house of Mr. Mompesson, and which is so circumstantially narrated by the Rev. Joseph Glanvil, under the title of "The Demon of Tedworth," and appended, among other proofs of witchcraft, to his noted work, called "Sadducismus Triumphatus." About the middle of April, in the year above mentioned, Mr. Mompesson, having returned to his house at Tedworth, from a journey he had taken to London, was informed by his wife that during his absence they had been troubled with the most extraordinary noises. Three nights afterwards he heard the noise himself; and it appeared to him to be that of "a great knocking at his doors, and on the outside of his walls." He immediately arose, dressed himself, took down a pair of pistols, and walked valiantly forth to discover the disturber, under the impression that it must be a robber; but, as he went, the noise seemed to travel before or behind him; and, when he arrived at the door from which he thought it proceeded, he saw nothing, but still heard "a strange hollow sound." He puzzled his brains for a long time, and searched every corner of the house; but, discovering nothing, he went to bed again. He was no sooner snug under the clothes, than the noise began again more furiously than ever, sounding very much like a "thumping and drumming on the top of his house, and then by degrees going off into the air."

These things continued for several nights, when it came to the recollection of Mr. Mompesson that, some time before, he had given orders for the arrest and imprisonment of a wandering drummer, who went about the country with a large drum, disturbing quiet people and soliciting alms, and that he had detained the man's drum, and that, probably, the drummer was a wizard, and had sent evil spirits to haunt his house, to be revenged of him. He became strengthened in his opinion every day, especially when the noises assumed, to his fancy, a resemblance to the beating of a drum, "like that at the breaking up of a guard." Mrs. Mompesson being brought to bed, the devil, or the drummer, very kindly and considerately refrained from making the usual riot; but, as soon as she recovered strength, began again, "in a ruder manner than before, following and vexing the young children, and beating their bedsteads with so much violence that every one expected they would fall in pieces." For an hour together, as the worthy Mr. Mompesson repeated to his wondering neighbours, this infernal drummer "would beat 'Roundheads and Cuckolds,' the 'Tat-too,' and several other points of war, as cleverly as any soldier." When this had lasted long enough, he changed his tactics, and scratched with his iron talons under the children's bed. "On the 5th of November," says the Rev. Joseph Glanvil, "it made a mighty noise; and a servant, observing two boards in the children's room seeming to move, he bid it give him one of them. Upon which the board came (nothing moving it, that he saw) within a yard of him. The man added, 'Nay, let me have it in my hand;' upon which the spirit, devil, or drummer, pushed it towards him so close, that he might touch it. This," continues Glanvil, "was in the day-time, and was seen by a whole room-full of people. That morning it left a sulphurous smell behind it, which was very offensive. At night the minister, one Mr. Cragg, and several of the neighbours, came to the house on a visit. Mr. Cragg went to prayers with them, kneeling at the children's bedside, where it then became very troublesome and loud. During prayer-time, the spirit withdrew into the cock-loft, but returned as soon as prayers were done; and then, in sight of the company, the chairs walked about the room of themselves, the children's shoes were hurled over their heads, and every loose thing moved about the chamber. At the same time, a bed-staff was thrown at the minister, which hit him on the leg, but so favourably, that a lock of wool could not have fallen more softly." On another occasion, the blacksmith of the village, a fellow who cared neither for ghost nor devil, slept with John the footman, that he also might hear the disturbance, and be cured of his incredulity, when there "came a noise in the room, as if one had been shoeing a horse, and somewhat came, as it were, with a pair of pinchers," snipping and snapping at the poor blacksmith's nose the greater part of the night. Next day it came, panting like a dog out of breath; upon which some woman present took a bed-staff to knock at it, "which was caught suddenly out of her hand, and thrown away; and company coming up, the room was presently filled with a bloomy noisome smell, and was very hot, though without fire, in a very sharp and severe winter. It continued in the bed, panting and scratching for an hour and a half, and then went into the next room, where it knocked a little, and seemed to rattle a chain."

The rumour of these wonderful occurrences soon spread all over the country, and people from far and near flocked to the haunted house of Tedworth, to believe or doubt, as their natures led them, but all filled with intense curiosity. It appears, too, that the fame of these events reached the royal ear, and that some gentlemen were sent by the King to investigate the circumstances, and draw up a report of what they saw or heard. Whether the royal commissioners were more sensible men than the neighbours of Mr. Mompesson, and required more clear and positive evidence than they, or whether the powers with which they were armed to punish anybody who might be found carrying on this deception frightened the evil-doers, is not certain; but Glanvil himself confesses, that all the time they were in the house the noises ceased, and nothing was heard or seen. "However," says he, "as to the quiet of the house when the courtiers were there, the intermission may have been accidental, or perhaps the demon was not willing to give so public a testimony of those transactions which might possibly convince those who he had rather should continue in unbelief of his existence."

As soon as the royal commissioners took their departure, the infernal drummer recommenced his antics, and hundreds of persons were daily present to hear and wonder. Mr. Mompesson's servant was so fortunate as not only to hear, but to see this pertinacious demon; for it came and stood at the foot of his bed. The exact shape and proportion of it he could not discover; but "he saw a great body, with two red and glaring eyes, which, for some time, were fixed steadily on him, and at length disappeared." Innumerable were the antics it played. Once it purred like a cat; beat the children's legs black and blue; put a long spike into Mr. Mompesson's bed, and a knife into his mother's; filled the porringers with ashes; hid a Bible under the grate; and turned the money black in people's pockets. "One night," says Mr. Mompesson, "there were seven or eight of these devils in the shape of men, who, as soon as a gun was fired, would shuffle away into an arbour;" a circumstance which might have convinced Mr. Mompesson of the mortal nature of his persecutors, if he had not been of the number of those worse than blind, who shut their eyes, and refuse to see.

In the mean time, the drummer, the supposed cause of all the mischief, passed his time in Gloucester gaol, whither he had been committed as a rogue and a vagabond. Being visited one day by some person from the neighbourhood of Tedworth, he asked what was the news in Wiltshire, and whether people did not talk a great deal about a drumming in a gentleman's house there? The visiter replied, that he heard of nothing else; upon which the drummer observed, "I have done it; I have thus plagued him! and he shall never be quiet until he hath made me satisfaction for taking away my drum." No doubt the fellow, who seems to have been a gipsy, spoke the truth, and that the gang of which he was a member knew more about the noises at Mr. Mompesson's house than anybody else. Upon these words, however, he was brought to trial at Salisbury for witchcraft; and, being found guilty, was sentenced to transportation; a sentence which, for its leniency, excited no little wonder in that age, when such an accusation, whether proved or not, generally insured the stake or the gibbet. Glanvil says, that the noises ceased immediately the drummer was sent beyond the seas; but that, somehow or other, he managed to return from transportation,--"by raising storms and affrighting the seamen, it was said;" when the disturbances were forthwith renewed, and continued at intervals for several years. It was believed by many at the time, that Mr. Mompesson himself was privy to the whole matter, and permitted and encouraged these tricks in his house for the sake of notoriety; but it seems more probable that the gipsies were the real delinquents, and that Mr. Mompesson was as much alarmed and bewildered as his credulous neighbours, whose excited imaginations conjured up no small portion of these stories,--

"Which roll'd, and, as they roll'd, grew larger every hour."

Many instances of a similar kind, during the seventeenth century, might be gleaned from Glanvil and other writers of that period; but they do not differ sufficiently from these to justify a detail of them.

ROBERT ASLETT,

CONDEMNED TO DEATH FOR EMBEZZLING PUBLIC PROPERTY.

Mr. Aslett had been in the employ of the Governor and Company of the Bank of England for about twenty-five years, and had conducted himself faithfully and meritoriously until he was induced, unfortunately, to speculate in the funds; when, in dereliction of that duty and fidelity which he owed to his employers, he subtracted immense sums from the property entrusted to his care.

In the year 1799, having gone through the necessary and regular gradations, he was appointed one of the cashiers. It was a part of the business of the Bank to purchase exchequer bills, to supply the exigencies of government; and the purchases were entrusted to the care of Mr. A. Newland; but on account of that gentleman's growing infirmities, he having been fifty-eight years in the service of the Bank, the management was left wholly under the care and direction of Mr. Aslett. The purchases were made of Mr. Goldsmid, by the means of Mr. Templeman, a broker. It was usual to make out a bill in the name of the person from whom they were made, which was delivered to Mr. Aslett, to examine and enter in what is called the Bought-book, and he gave orders to the cashiers to reimburse the broker. The bills were afterwards deposited in a strong chest, kept in Mr. Newland's room; and when they had increased in bulk by subsequent purchases, they were selected by Mr. Aslett, who tied them up in large bundles, and carried them to the parlour, that is to say, the room in which the Directors held their meetings, accompanied by one of the clerks, with the original book of entry, when the Directors in waiting received the envelope, and deposited it in the strong iron chest, which had three keys, and to which none but the Directors had access; and from which it could not be brought forth until the time of payment, unless by consent of at least two of the Directors. Therefore it was not possible for them to find their way into the hands of the public or the monied market, unless embezzled for that purpose. On the 26th of February, 1803, Mr. Aslett, according to the practice, made up three envelopes of exchequer bills, of 1000_l._ each bill; the first containing bills to the amount of 100,000_l._, the second 200,000_l._, and the third 400,000_l._; making in the whole 700,000_l._ These were, or in fact ought to have been, carried into the parlour, and were signed as being received by two of the Directors, Messrs. Paget and Smith; but one of the bundles, namely, that containing the 200,000_l._ worth of bills, was withdrawn.

The confidence which the Governor and Company had placed in Mr. Aslett had enabled him to conceal the transaction from the 26th of February to the 9th of April; but on that day, in consequence of an application made by Mr. Bish, the whole was discovered. On the 16th of March, Mr. Aslett went to that gentleman, and requested he would purchase for him 50,000_l._ Consols, to which request no objection was made, provided he deposited the requisite securities. The fluctuation of the market at that time was six per cent., and Aslett, in order to cover any deficit, deposited with Mr. Bish three exchequer bills, Nos. 341, 1060, and 2694, which he knew had been previously deposited in the Bank. From some circumstances, and from his general knowledge of the whole of the business of the funds, Mr. Bish suspected all was not right, and he accordingly went to the Bank, where an investigation took place, at which Mr. B. Watson, one of the Directors, was present. Mr. Newland was sent for, and asked whether any of the exchequer bills could, by possibility, get into the market again from the Bank? To which he answered in the negative, observing that they were a dormant security. The same question was put to Mr. Aslett, and the same answer given by him. It was found necessary to tell him that the bills in question, which could be proved to have been in the Bank, had found their way into the money-market; and at the same time it was observed, that he had made purchases, to a large amount, of stock, with the bills: this was acknowledged by him; but he said he had done so for a friend, named Hosier, residing at the west end of the town; and he declared that they were not Bank property, nor to be found in the Bought-book. The Directors, however, were not satisfied on this point, and he was immediately secured. His trial was postponed to July, as it occurred to those employed in the prosecution that the bills in question had been issued with an informality in them, not having the signature of the Auditor of the Exchequer. They were aware of the objections that might be taken, and Parliament not then being sitting, it was thought advisable to postpone the trial, lest it might create an alarm in the money-market. The fact was no sooner known, than a bill was brought into Parliament for remedying those defects, and to render the bills valid.

On Friday, July 8, 1804, Mr. Aslett's trial commenced. Mr. Garrow, on the part of the prosecution, stated the facts above mentioned; but when about to call witnesses to give evidence, Mr. Erskine insisted that the exchequer bills, which the prisoner stood charged with having stolen, were not good bills till the act of parliament had made them so, and consequently that they were pieces of waste paper when stolen. The Chief Baron Macdonald, Mr. Justice Rooke, and Mr. Justice Lawrence concurred, that the present indictment could not be maintained; and the jury were accordingly desired to acquit the prisoner.

He was afterwards, however, tried on nine other indictments, the evidence being the same, Mr. Garrow having applied to the Court to detain him in custody, it being, he said, the intention of the Bank Directors to issue a civil process against him for one hundred thousand pounds, and upwards, the moneys paid for the bills which he had converted to his own use.

Mr. Kirby at first hesitated to receive the prisoner, understanding he was acquitted; but was peremptorily desired by the Court to take him back.

Mr. Aslett was dressed in a lightish brown coat, his hair being full powdered. He appeared quite collected, but held down his head, never once looking up, except when the application was made to keep him in custody, when he expressed symptoms of great surprise, and looked very steadfastly at the Court.

On Saturday, September 17, Mr. Aslett was again brought to the bar of the Old Bailey, before Baron Chambre and Mr. Justice Le Blanc. The prisoner was attended by four or five gentlemen, who continued in the Dock during the whole time of the trial.

Three indictments were read, with two counts in each, charging the prisoner with secreting and embezzling three notes. The first indictment was, for that he, being an officer or servant of the Governor and Company of the Bank of England, had secreted and embezzled a certain piece of paper, partly written, and partly printed, being No. 835, purporting to be of the value of five hundred pounds; the second, 2694, for one thousand pounds; and the third, No. 6061, for one thousand pounds. One count in each stated them as securities, and the other as effects belonging to the said Governor and Company. There were other counts, diversifying the statement of the property in other forms, such as were deemed to come within the law.

Mr. Garrow stated the case at considerable length to the jury. There was one point, to which he called particular attention, and that was that the prisoner had been tried before, and acquitted of the offence of purloining exchequer bills to an immense amount; as it was then proved to the satisfaction of the learned judges on the bench, for whom he entertained the highest respect, that they were not actually such as might in law be termed exchequer bills, in consequence of their not having been signed as the act directs. The present indictments, however, stated them as papers purporting to be exchequer bills, which they evidently were on the face of them, and subdivided the charge, by stating them one time as securities, and at another time as effects belonging to the Company. This he had no doubt that the jury would be convinced of upon hearing them read; and it was an important duty which the Bank owed to the public, that they should not suffer so great a delinquent to escape the justice of the country, in consequence of any want of exertion on their part.

Mr. Erskine, in behalf of the prisoner, delivered a most animated address to the jury. He stated, that the former indictments against the gentleman at the bar had been objected to on grounds which were approved of by the learned judges who then sat upon the bench.--He was now brought up again to be tried for exactly the same offence, though differently stated; and he thought that the present proceeding was liable to the same objections which were then admitted to be valid by the bench; but he should oppose it on much stronger grounds. He then objected to the legality of Mr. Jenning's signature, in the place of that of Lord Grenville, as Auditor of the Exchequer. That the same illegality in a criminal sense existed with respect to all bills issued at that time from the Exchequer, was manifest from the circumstance of the legislature having found it necessary to pass an act expressly for the purpose of making them legal in a civil view; and that act had a most humane proviso, which declared, in plain terms, that the act was to be considered to make the exchequer bills issued at that time valid only in a civil view, and was not to have any retrospective view to any criminal offence committed before the passing of that act. The learned gentleman stated, that as securities, they were nothing in law, for a person, at the time of their being passed, could not recover at law. As to the idea of calling them effects, he considered that, though the legislature had thought proper to pass an act for the protection of that company above all others, by passing what is generally termed the Bank Act, in consequence of the immense magnitude of that concern, yet effects must obviously mean the same as in a case of petty larceny would be considered as effects, that is something intrinsically valuable in themselves, without taking in or mixing in the mind the idea of their professed or avowed value. If that was not the case, a clerk who took away a loose half sheet of paper lying about the office, or a pen that was worn to the stump, came within the limits of the act, and would be liable to a prosecution for felony. If he did not know the highly respectable character which that Company supported, and the very great ability by which they were counselled, he should be induced to say that the prosecution of the gentleman at the bar a second time, for exactly the same offence of which he had been before acquitted by law, was vexatious; and he should declare, not only as a lawyer, but as a man, that they were rather inclined to be severe towards the prisoner, than that they should be thought in the least to relax from their duty, or from an idea of justice to the public. The articles stated in the indictments must either be really and bonâ fide exchequer bills, or else they were no securities; they were no effects in law; they were no more than pieces of waste paper, for the embezzlement of which he had never known a prosecution to be sustained at law. The generosity of government, or the justice of the country, could not at that time pay a single farthing for them; the strings of the national purse were only to be drawn by the consent of the legislature, and at that time there was no such consent obtained; the articles in the indictment were at that time nothing but so many pieces of waste, printed, and written paper, which had not been called into existence as anything of valuable property, as any effects belonging to the Bank which had obtained the sanction of Parliament; they had not been animated by the breath of the legislature. The learned gentleman then quoted several cases from the Reports, showing that chattels or effects must be something valuable intrinsically in themselves; and said that it was his firm belief that the learned judges at present on the bench would deliver an opinion similar in effect to that which had already been delivered by the learned judges sitting on that bench at the time of Mr. Aslett's former trial: he believed that they would find themselves in the same situation, and instruct the jury to find a verdict for the acquittal of that gentleman without hearing any evidence upon the case; as in his opinion it was not such as could be supported in law.

Mr. Serjeant Best followed on the same side, and the Court determined to reserve the point for consideration. Evidence was then given in proof of the facts stated at the beginning of this article, and the jury returned a verdict of Guilty.

Mr. Aslett betrayed neither a symptom of fear, nor levity, but seemed to pay the greatest attention to everything that passed, and conducted himself with a becoming firmness throughout the whole of the trial. When the verdict was pronounced, there was a great buz in the Court: Mr. Aslett waited for about two minutes, then bowed to the Court, and withdrew, accompanied by his friends.

On February 16, 1804, Mr. Aslett was brought to the bar to receive his sentence, when Mr. Baron Hothan addressed him as follows:--

"Robert Aslett, you were tried and convicted in this Court, in the September sessions, 1803, for embezzling effects belonging to the Governor and Company of the Bank of England, you being an officer and servant of that Bank, and, as such, entrusted with their property. It was argued by your counsel, that the bills were not valid or legal bills, having been signed by a person not properly authorised by Lord Grenville, though they had been issued as good, and paid as such. On this indictment you have been lawfully convicted by a jury of your countrymen; but judgment has been suspended till the opinion of the twelve judges of England was taken on this important case, in order to ascertain whether these bills were good, according to the statute 15 Geo. II. Eleven of these judges were of opinion that some of the objections, so ably argued by your counsel, should be sustained; they have since held various conferences, which produced various different opinions; and it is now my duty to communicate to you the result of their investigation. Several points were urged in your favour, upon all of which, however except one, the Judges have given their decision against you. The only material question for consideration was, whether or not these bills fall within the meaning of the statute 15 Geo. II., and can be denominated effects according to that act. On this point, indeed, the judges were not unanimous, but the majority are of opinion that they are effects and securities within the true meaning of the act. The great object of the legislature was to add security and administer protection to the Bank of England. The immense national concerns with which it was and still is entrusted, called upon the legislature for particular provisions in its favour. The principles of legislation must now be applied to the object under contemplation; and the view we take of any code of laws must be more comprehensive when it concerns so materially such a large incorporated body, than when it only relates to private individuals. Considering this law then in the enlarged and liberal view on which it was framed by the legislature (at the same time that all the judges disclaim any wish to strain any part of it where it is so penal,) the recollection of the enormous weight of exchequer bills, in which the public were so deeply and materially concerned, cannot fail to occur to every mind. That these bills had become the fair and valuable property of the Bank was allowed on all hands; but still it was argued that they were not such securities as fell within the true meaning of the Act of Parliament, because they were not of any positive or intrinsic value. Now, whatever shall be deposited with the Bank, was expressly guarded by the words of the act; and although the bills in question be of no descriptive legal value, yet they carry about them such a consequence at least as may make their preservation of the utmost importance to the Bank. In that view, therefore, they surely have their value. They are at least valuable papers, whatever they may be called, and the holders of them have them as such, having paid for them the value which they respectively import. They are therefore to be included in the true meaning of the word securities, which may be in the end available to any person who may be possessed of them."

The conviction was therefore determined to be good, and on the following Monday, 20th February, 1804, this unfortunate man received sentence of death. This punishment was, however, subsequently commuted to transportation.

SAMUEL WILD MITCHELL.

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

This wretched man was hanged for the murder of his daughter, Sarah Mitchell, a girl about twelve years of age. He was a spinner living in Spitalfields, and he had brought the girl up as an apprentice to his trade. It would appear that frequent disputes took place between him and his wife, in consequence of which he became subject to frequent violent bursts of passion. It was on the occasion of his having excited himself to a degree of rage amounting to madness, that he committed the crime for which he was hanged. The girl was sitting at her work, when her father came into the room, and suddenly attacking her, cut her throat through the windpipe with a razor, which he held in his hand. He immediately afterwards ran from the house, but was apprehended subsequently on the same evening, when he made a full confession of his crime. On his trial, which took place at the Old Bailey on the 11th of January, 1805, he presented a miserable aspect. Almost bereft of reason by the dreadful deed which he had committed, he seemed for some time unconscious of what was passing around him. His hair was grey, and his head was covered with an old miserable nightcap.

Evidence as to the fact of the murder was adduced, and the prisoner's confession was also read. He said--"I had a daughter named Sally, and my wife had a daughter named Elizabeth, who at one time did live with me, but whom I afterwards took to my apartment, where I instructed her in the art of weaving, and we lived all together: this said daughter of my wife's caused some uneasiness, as I thought; and I thought my wife was more indulgent of her faults, and favoured her more than she ought, which was the reason of our separation on the 17th of December last; my wife also took with her Sarah Mitchell, whom I loved with the most ardent affection, which vexed me a great deal, as I saw there would be a continual dispute. I could not bear the little girl coming to see me, as coming on a visit. I resolved that neither my wife nor me should possess her. I seized the moment of the mother going away; the child was sitting by the fire winding quills. I took the razor from the drawer; my affection made me almost lay it down again, but my resolution overcame that. I turned round, and cut her throat. I was too resolute to make a faint attempt; the child was dead in a moment; she neither made noise nor resistance. When I had done the deed, the child fell. As I went out, I saw her blood; then I ran down stairs. After this act was done to my child, Sarah Mitchell, I went to a man named Bell, where I had lived, and left word for him to run and secure my master's work; then I went to Mr. Dellafour, and my friends at Wapping."

The prisoner, on his being called on for his defence, at once admitted that he was guilty of the crime imputed to him, but declared that he was led on to its commission by a mind which had been deranged by the frequent quarrels which he had with his wife.

The jury having found him guilty, the prisoner was asked what he had to say for himself, why sentence of death should not be passed according to law? He distinctly replied, "I have nothing to say."

The awful sentence, that he was to be hanged on the succeeding Monday, and his body afterwards dissected and anatomized, was immediately pronounced by the recorder; which the prisoner heard without any visible emotion. The court was crowded in almost every part, and particularly with ladies; and not only the women, but even the jury, the counsel, and nearly all present, were melted into tears. During the whole trial the prisoner appeared calm, but not insensible. He was very attentive to the evidence, and appeared frequently to utter a low ejaculation.

On the morning after his trial, this unhappy man expressed a desire to see his wife, that they might exchange forgiveness. The day following (Sunday) she came to visit him in Newgate, but was so ill that she was obliged to be conveyed in a hackney-coach, supported between two friends. As soon as the distressing interview was over, he applied himself devoutly to prayer, in which he continued nearly the whole of the day. On that day he was extremely solicitous to obtain Dr. Ford's promise to publish to the world that he died in the faith of the Church of England; as it had been generally understood that he belonged to the sect denominated Methodists. At half-past six o'clock on Monday morning Mitchell's cell was unlocked, and the Ordinary attended him to the chapel to prayers; which being concluded, he returned to the Press-yard, and there walked for some time, holding two friends by the arms; meanwhile his mind was occupied with his unhappy situation; and he begged of all around him to pray with him. The unhappy man blessed the memory of his murdered child, and trusted the sacrifice he was about to make would, in some degree, expiate his crime in heaven, which he did not despair to see.

His last petition was to the sheriffs, to request that, after the surgeons had practised upon his body, his mangled remains might be given to his daughter, for burial; which request the sheriffs promised should be complied with.

The wretched being seemed to attend with much earnestness and fervour to the clergyman, and he was seen to clasp his hands together the instant the rope was fixed. After the drop fell he appeared to feel great pain, as he swung round twice, which was occasioned by the violence of the convulsive struggles he sustained.

He suffered before Newgate, January the 14th 1805, and, after hanging the usual time, was taken to St. Bartholomew's hospital for dissection.

RICHARD HAYWOOD.

EXECUTED FOR ROBBERY.

The termination of the career of this criminal exhibited him to be a man of the most depraved and diabolical disposition.

He was indicted for having stolen two pillows and two bolsters, value 10s., the property of Richard Crabtree, and also for cutting Benjamin Chantrey with a certain sharp instrument, in order to prevent his apprehension.

It appears that some suspicions being entertained of an intention to rob Mr. Crabtree's house, which was left unoccupied, although furnished. Miss Jenkins the cousin of that gentleman, and a Mrs. Wilson, determined to watch it, and they accordingly took their station in the house of a Mr. Wilkinson, situated directly opposite to it, in Thayer-street, Manchester-square. They had not been long on the look-out, before they saw two men enter it, having opened the door with a key. Mrs. Wilson, in consequence, went and knocked at the door, on which the two men ran out, and one running to the left made his escape, while the other (the prisoner) made a blow at Mrs. Wilson, and ran to the right. He was afterwards pursued by a Mr. Holford, and on Mr. Chantrey stepping out from his own house to seize him, he struck him a violent blow on the head with an iron crowbar. He was eventually secured, and it was then found, that the articles mentioned in the indictment had been removed ready to be carried off.

After conviction, the prisoner behaved with shocking depravity, seeming to exult in his guilt, and regretting he had not done a deed more deserving of death. It was his constant boast that he would, on the scaffold, surpass the notorious Avershaw in evincing his contempt for life; and he constantly endeavoured to instil into the mind of his fellow-sufferer those diabolical principles which he had imbibed himself.

His fellow-sufferer was John Tennant, who had lived as footman with Robert Shaw, Esq. a solicitor, in New Bridge-street, Blackfriars; but, inflated with the ambition of keeping a public-house, he quitted his service, and obtained the command of a tap in Little Suffolk-street, Dirty-lane, behind the King's Bench Prison. Finding his golden prospects in a public-house, in a great measure, delusive, he determined on robbing his late master, Mr. Shaw; and, being well acquainted with his house, broke open his money-drawers, and stole to the amount of more than five thousand pounds in cash, bank-notes, and other property. With such a prize such a man could not long remain unsuspected, and he was soon detected in passing some of the stolen notes. The relentless Haywood corrupted the mind of Tennant, and, in the condemned cells, stimulated him to follow his horrid example. They uttered the most blasphemous expressions, and sang lewd songs during the whole time they ought to have been employed in making their peace with offended Heaven.

When the keeper went to warn them of their approaching execution, they behaved in so riotous a manner, that it was necessary to secure them with irons to the floor. Haywood, who was supposed to have procured a knife from his wife, while she was permitted to see him, rushed upon the keeper, and would have stabbed him with it if he had not left the cell. They uttered the most horrid imprecations; and, after declaring, in cant terms, that they would die game, threatened to murder the Ordinary if he attempted to visit them. Their behaviour, in other respects, was so abandoned, that the necessary attendants were deterred from further interference, and left them to the dreadful fate which awaited them.

When the time for quitting the court-yard arrived, Haywood called to a friend, who was present, to deliver him a bundle he had in his hand, out of which he took an old jacket, and a pair of old shoes, and put them on. "Thus," said he, "will I defeat the prophecies of my enemies: they have often said I would die in my coat and shoes, and I am determined to die in neither." Being told it was time to be conducted to the scaffold, he cheerfully attended the summons, having first eaten some bread and cheese, and drunk a quantity of coffee. Before, however, he departed, he called out in a loud voice to the prisoners, who were looking through the upper windows at him, "Farewell, my lads; I am just going off: God bless you."--"We are sorry for you," replied the prisoners. "I want none of your pity," rejoined Haywood; "keep your snivelling till it be your own turn." Immediately on his arrival upon the scaffold, in a loud laugh, he gave the mob three cheers, introducing each with a "Hip, ho!" While the cord was preparing, he continued hallooing to the mob, "How are you?--Well, here goes." It was found necessary, before the usual time, to put the cap over his eyes, besides a silk handkerchief, by way of bandage, that his attention might be entirely abstracted from the spectators.

At the suggestion of Mr. Holdsworth, however, Tennant made some alteration in his conduct. This officer, finding his advice attended to in this instance, entreated him no longer to follow the evil counsel of Haywood, but to employ the few moments he had left in a Christian-like manner. Tennant shed tears, showed some contrition, and suffered the Ordinary to attend him to the scaffold. Dr. Ford continued in prayer with him; and, though he did not join with, yet he listened to him attentively. He came on the platform with great resolution, but did not then follow the daring and abandoned example of his companion: he was cleanly dressed, and observed a suitable propriety of conduct; he shook hands with Haywood; and, just as the noose was placed round his neck, he emphatically exclaimed, "Lord, have mercy upon me!" Haywood uttered some words in reply, which were not perfectly understood, but were supposed to be said to Tennant by way of reproach. He then gave another halloo, and kicked off his shoes among the spectators, many of whom were deeply affected at the obduracy of his conduct. Soon afterwards the platform dropped. They suffered on the 30th of April 1805.

HENRY PERFECT.

TRANSPORTED FOR FRAUD.

Henry Perfect was a person who, by means of the most specious pretences and ingenious frauds, succeeded in levying very large contributions on the public. Instances of fellows devoid of principle pursuing similar plans of imposture have been but too frequent of late years, but the system, which was for a long time so successful, of writing begging letters, has been now almost entirely put an end to, by the praiseworthy exertions of the officers of that very respectable institution the Mendicity Society, the object of which is at once to relieve the necessitous, and to protect the public from imposition.

The case of this person may be taken as a very fair instance of the degree of ingenuity exercised by individuals resorting to similar artifices as the means of gulling the humane.

Perfect was a man of respectable parentage, and of excellent abilities. His father was a clergyman living in Leicestershire, and our hero, at the completion of his education, entered the army as a lieutenant in the 69th regiment of foot. He was twice married, and received a handsome property with each of his wives; but their estates being held during life only, upon the demise of his second helpmate he was thrown upon his own resources. His commission had long since been disposed of, and he determined to endeavour to procure contributions by writing letters to persons of known charitable dispositions, setting forth fictitious details of distress. In the course of his numerous impositions, he assumed the various and imaginary characters of the Rev. Mr. Paul, the Rev. Daniel Bennett, Mrs. Grant, Mrs. Smith, and others, but at last he was detected in an attempt to procure money from the Earl of Clarendon, whom he addressed in a letter signed "H. Grant."

He was indicted at the Middlesex sessions for this offence; and his trial, which came on at Hicks' Hall, on the 27th of October 1804, occupied the whole day.

It then appeared that the Earl of Clarendon being at his seat at Wade's Mill, Hertfordshire, in the previous month of July, he received a letter, purporting to be from Mrs. Grant, which stated in substance:--

That the writer having heard from a lady, whose name she was not at liberty to reveal, the most charming character of his lordship for kindness and benevolence, she was induced to lay before him a statement of her distressed circumstances. The supposed lady then detailed her case, which was, that she was a native of Jamaica, of affluent and respectable family; that a young man, a Scotchman, and surgeon's mate to a man-of-war, was introduced at her father's house, who so far ingratiated himself with her father, that he seriously recommended him to her for her husband. She did not like him, because he was proud, and for ever vaunting of his high family; but as her father's will had always been a law, she acquiesced on condition that he would live at Jamaica. They were accordingly married, and her father gave him one thousand pounds. He, however, soon became discontented with remaining at Jamaica, and continually importuned her to go with him to Scotland; and as her friends joined in the solicitation, she consented. She had now been six months in England; but her husband had always evaded going to Scotland, and had left her whenever she spoke upon the subject. In short he had gamed, drunk, and committed every excess; and within the last six weeks he had died in a rapid decline, leaving her a widow, with two children, and hourly expecting to be delivered of a third. She was not twenty-three years of age, and never knew want till now; but she was left without a shilling to support herself and miserable children: she owed for her husband's funeral, and the apothecary's bill, for which she was afraid of being arrested. To avoid this she was going to seek shelter with a poor widow in Essex; and if his lordship would write to her at the post-office at Harlow, she would, if brought to bed in the meanwhile, get some safe person to go for the letter.

His lordship's answer evinced the benevolence of his heart. He expressed his readiness to alleviate her distress, but justly observed that her tale ought to be authenticated by something more than the recital of a perfect stranger. He desired to know who the lady was who had recommended the application to him, and assured the writer she need not conceal her, for that he considered it was doing him a great kindness to afford him the means of rendering service to the necessitous. On the 14th of July his lordship received a note nearly as follows:--

Mrs. Smith, widow of Captain Smith, begged leave to inform Lord Clarendon that Mrs. Grant was brought to bed. It was she who recommended Mrs. Grant to Lord Clarendon: while her husband was living, she had frequently been with him on the recruiting service in Hertfordshire, where she had heard of the benevolent character of his lordship. She added, that Captain Smith, when in Jamaica, had frequently visited Mrs. Grant's father, who was a person of great wealth; that she had herself done more than she could afford for an amiable and unfortunate young woman. She had no doubt but that as soon as her letter should reach Jamaica, Mrs. Grant's father would send her abundant relief; but till then she might, without the friendship of some individual, be totally lost.

In consequence of this last note, his lordship returned an answer, and enclosed a draft for five guineas, offering at the same time to write to any person at Harlow who might be of assistance to her, particularly to any medical person. On July the 23rd the supposed Mrs. Grant wrote again to his lordship, acknowledging the receipt of the five guineas, and stating that she had the offer of a passage home: but she said that she wished to see his lordship, to return her grateful thanks for his kindness. At the same time she was extremely delicate, lest their meeting should be misconstrued by a malignant world, and entreated that it might take place a little distance from town. The answer to this letter she begged might be addressed to A. B. C. at George's Coffee-house, to which place she would send for it. His lordship at her request, wrote an answer, and appointed the Bell Inn, at Kilburn. Before the arrival of the day of meeting, however, his lordship received another letter from Mrs. Grant, stating that ever since she came to town, she had met nothing but trouble. Her last child had died, and she was seized with a milk-fever; that she had twelve shillings left of his lordship's, and Mrs. Smith's bounty, when she came to town; that she was afraid of coming further than Whitechapel, lest her creditors might arrest her; and she concluded with the request of the loan of five pounds, to be inclosed in a note addressed to Mr. Paul, to be left at the Saracen's Head Inn, Aldgate. His lordship, in reply to this note, sent the money requested, and with great humanity condoled on her supposed situation. He then proposed to take her into the country, where she might live quiet, and free of expense, until she heard from her friends. The next letter introduced another actor on the stage. It came from the Rev. H. Paul. Mr. Paul, at the desire of Mrs. Grant, (then said to be delirious,) acknowledged the receipt of the five pounds. He would write again, and say anything Mrs. Grant might dictate in a lucid interval. He begged his answer might be left at the Chapter Coffee-house. His lordship accordingly wrote to the Rev. H. Paul, with particular inquiries after the state of Mrs. Grant, and proposed to send the proper medical assistance. The Rev. Mr. Paul replied to this letter, and stated the description of Mrs. Grant's complaint, which was of a delicate nature. He then stated the high notions of Mrs. Grant, who would not condescend to see any person from his lordship in her present wretched state; and added that she thought her situation such, that it was not delicate to admit any one to see her but those absolutely necessary. Mr. Paul therefore had promised, he said, not to divulge her residence; but declared that in her lucid intervals, Mrs. Grant expressed the utmost anxiety to be enabled to thank her benefactor.

This correspondence produced a meeting between the supposed Rev. H. Paul and his lordship, which took place at the Bell Inn, at Kilburn, on the 8th of August. The prisoner then introduced himself to his lordship as the Rev. Henry Paul. They entered into conversation on the subject of Mrs. Grant, when his lordship asked every question as to her situation, with a view to alleviate it. Mr. Paul said he had not seen her distinctly, for the curtains were closed round her; but the opium had had an effect which he had known it frequently to produce: it had given her eyes more than usual brilliancy: with respect to her lodging, it was a very small room. The woman who attended her seemed a good sort of a woman enough, and she was also attended by a surgeon or apothecary. As Mr. Paul seemed to be a man of respectability, his lordship asked him at what seminary he had been brought up: the prisoner replied he had been educated at Westminster and Oxford, and had the living of St. Kitt's, in Jamaica, worth about 700_l._ per annum; that he had property in Ireland, and was going to America on private business. To his lordship's question how he was so fortunate as to meet this young woman, he said it was by an accident, that quite looked like a romance.--He was coming to town in the Ongar stage, in which were a young woman, two children, and a lady, all in mourning. He entered into conversation with the lady, and was surprised to find her the daughter of a person at whose house, in Jamaica, he had himself been frequently received with kindness. Although his business pressed, he determined to stay and afford her some assistance. He then stated that he had that day given her a 2_l._ note, which his lordship, at this interview, returned (being the note on which the indictment was founded). He added, that Mrs. Grant's father was extremely affluent, and he should not wonder if he was to remit 500_l._ at the first intelligence of his daughter's situation. His lordship in his evidence said, that he seemed to express himself in language of the purest truth and benevolence; and as he appeared a well-educated gentleman, who had seen the world, he had no suspicion of any fraud.

After this interview a correspondence took place between the pretended clergyman and his lordship, in which the former stated the progression of the patient, Mrs. Grant, towards convalescence, and at her desire requested that linen, poultry, fruit, and wine, might be forwarded, all of which were supplied by the bounty of the noble lord.

At length Mrs. Grant was sufficiently recovered to be able to write to his lordship, and in her letter she expressed her unbounded thanks for the benevolence which she had experienced at his hands, and remarked that but for the friendly introduction of the Rev. Mr. Paul, she believed that she would have been lost. She then went on to say, that although she had been ordered by her medical attendant to keep herself perfectly quiet, yet she could not resist the temptation of sitting up in bed to write to her benefactor, whom she hoped to be able shortly to thank personally for his numerous kindnesses.

The last letter from Mr. Paul was dated August 23. He acknowledged the receipt of 6_l._ 2_s._ which had been expended for Mrs. Grant; and informed his lordship that the sheets which had been last sent, had, by some accident, been near brimstone, which affected Mrs. Grant very much; that her situation required fine old linen, if his lordship had any such. He apologized, if there should be any inaccuracy in his letter, because he had a head-ache and some degree of fever.

The farce now began to draw to its conclusion. His lordship received another letter from Mrs. Grant, dated Saturday, September 1st, in which the supposed lady said:--

"Last Saturday, her father's sister came to town, and found her out. She was a sour old lady, a man-hater, and snarled at the whole sex. She had taken Mrs. G. into the country with her, although she was removed at the peril of her life. The lady she was with was nearly as bad as her aunt; but, as the latter was going out for a few days, her Argus would let her come to town, which would enable her to meet his lordship. As her ill-tempered aunt had given her neither money nor clothes, she begged 4_l._ of his lordship. If this opportunity was lost, she should never be able to see him, as her aunt was a vigilant woman, and hated the men so much, that at the first entrance into her room, finding the Rev. Mr. Paul there, she most grossly affronted him. She could not have any letter addressed in her own name lest it should fall into the hands of her aunt, and therefore begged his lordship to direct to Mrs. Harriet, Post-office, Waltham."

His lordship, in his answer to this letter, expressed some suspicions that he had been duped; in answer to which Mrs. Grant thanked Lord Clarendon for his favours, and declared that she was sorry to think he should conceive himself duped, but he would find his mistake when she got home to the West Indies. In a postscript, she added--"That best of men, Mr. Paul, died suddenly on Saturday last."

This closed the intercourse between his lordship and his correspondents, Mrs. Grant and Mr. Paul. Soon afterwards, however, he received another letter from a Rev. Mr. Bennett, setting forth a deplorable tale of misery; but his suspicions being awakened, he employed his steward to trace the supposed Rev. Mr. Bennett, when it turned out to be the prisoner at the bar, who had imposed himself on his lordship as the Rev. Mr. Paul, that "best of men," whom Mrs. Grant stated to have "died suddenly." His lodgings being searched, a book was found in his own handwriting, giving an account of money received, (by which it appeared that he had plundered the public to the amount of four hundred and eighty-eight pounds within two years,) with a list of the donors' names, among whom were, the Duchess of Beaufort, Lord Willoughby de Broke, Lord Lyttleton, Lady Howard, Lady Mary Duncan, Bishops of London, Salisbury, and Durham, Earls of Kingston and Radnor, Lord C. Spencer, Hon. Mrs. Fox, &c. &c.

Other memoranda were also found, which showed that the prisoner had reduced his mode of proceeding to a perfect system, notes being taken of the style of handwriting which he assumed, under his different names, and of the description of sealing-wax, wafer, and paper, used in his letters.

The jury found the prisoner guilty, and the Court immediately sentenced him to seven years' transportation. He was sent to Botany Bay in April 1805.

Frequent convictions of a similar character have taken place, but it is to be hoped, that if the exertions of the police have not been fully successful in putting a stop to the system, the public, at least, have been so far put upon their guard, as that they will not submit to be duped, but that they will first inquire into and ascertain the real claims of the applicants before they extend their charity to them.

THOMAS PICTON, ESQ.

INDICTED FOR APPLYING THE TORTURE TO LOUISA CALDERON, TO EXTORT A CONFESSION.

The cruelty of the application of the torture to extort confession, cannot but be universally admitted in the present enlightened age. The following remarks of the French philosopher Voltaire admirably illustrate this feeling, and serve well to introduce the case of Governor Picton:--

"All mankind being exposed to the attempts of violence and perfidy," says he, "detest the crimes of which they may possibly be the victims; all desire that the principal offender and his accomplices may be punished; nevertheless, there is a natural compassion in the human heart, which makes all men detest the cruelty of torturing the accused into confession. The law has not condemned them; and yet, though uncertain of the crime, you inflict a punishment more horrible than that which they are to suffer when their guilt is confirmed. 'Possibly thou mayest be innocent; but I will torture thee that I may be satisfied; not that I intend to make thee any recompense for the thousand deaths which I have made thee suffer in lieu of that which is preparing for thee.' Who does not shudder at the idea? St. Augustin opposed such cruelty. The Romans tortured their slaves only; and Quintilian, recollecting that they were men, reproved the Romans for such want of humanity."

The defendant, Thomas Picton, Esq. was indicted for putting to the torture a female, Louisa Calderon, one of his majesty's subjects in the island of Trinidad in the West Indies, in order to extort confession.

Mr. Garrow stated the case for the prosecution; and, whilst he expressed the strongest desire to bring to condign punishment the perpetrator of an offence so flagrant as that charged upon the defendant, yet much more happy would he be to find that there was no ground upon which the charge could be supported, and that the British character was not stained by the adoption of so cruel a measure. The island of Trinidad, he said, surrendered to Sir Ralph Abercrombie in the year 1797; and he entered into a stipulation, by which he conceded to the inhabitants the continuance of their laws, and appointed a new governor, until his majesty's pleasure should be known, or, in other words, until the king should extend to this new acquisition to his empire all the sacred privileges of the laws of England. He had the authority of the defendant himself for stating, that the system of jurisprudence adopted under the Spanish monarch, for his colonial establishments, was benignant, and adapted to the protection of the subject, previous to the surrender of this island to the British arms.

In December 1801, when this crime was perpetrated, Louisa Calderon was of the tender age of ten or eleven years. At that early period she had been induced to live with a person named Pedro Ruiz, as his mistress; and although it appeared to them very singular that she should sustain such a situation at that time of life, yet it was a fact, that in that climate, women often became mothers at twelve years old, and were in a state of concubinage, if, from their condition, they could not form a more honourable connexion. While she lived with Ruiz, she was engaged in an intrigue with Carlos Gonzalez, the pretended friend of the former, who robbed him of a quantity of dollars. Gonzalez was apprehended, and she also, as some suspicion fell upon her, in consequence of the affair, was taken into custody. She was taken before the justice, and, in his presence, she denied having any concern in the business. The magistrate felt that his powers were at an end; and whether the object of her denial were to protect herself, or her friend, was not material. The extent of his authority being thus limited, the officer of justice resorted to General Picton; and he had now to produce, in the handwriting of the defendant, this bloody sentence:--"Inflict the torture upon Louisa Calderon." There was no delay in proceeding to its execution. The girl was informed in the jail, that, if she did not confess, she would be subjected to the torture; that under this process she might probably lose her limbs or her life; but the calamity would be on her own head, for, if she would confess, she would not be required to endure it. While her mind was in the state of agitation this notice produced, her fears were aggravated by the introduction of two or three negresses into her prison, who were to suffer under the same experiment for witchcraft, and as a means of extorting confession. In this situation of alarm and horror, the young woman persisted in her innocence: and a punishment was inflicted, improperly called picketing. That was a military punishment, perfectly distinct in its nature. This was not picketing, but the torture. It was true, the soldier, exposed to this, did stand with his foot on a picket, or sharp piece of wood; but, in mercy to him, a means of reposing was afforded, on the rotundus major, or interior of the arm. Her position might be easily described. The great toe was lodged upon a sharp piece of wood, while the opposite wrist was suspended in a pulley, and the other hand and foot were lashed together. Another time the horrid ceremony was repeated, with this difference, that her feet were changed.

[The learned counsel here produced a drawing in water-colours, in which the situation of the sufferer, and the magistrate, executioner, and secretary, was described. He then proceeded]:--

"It appeared to him, that the case, on the part of the prosecution, would be complete when these facts were established in evidence; but he was to be told, that though the highest authority in this country could not practise this on the humblest individual, yet that, by the laws of Spain, it could be perpetrated in the island of Trinidad. He would venture to assert, that if it were written in characters impossible to be misunderstood, that if it were the acknowledged law of Trinidad, it could be no justification of a British governor. Nothing could vindicate such a person, but the law of imperious necessity, to which all must submit. It was his duty to impress upon the minds of the people of that colony, the great advantages they would derive from the benign influence of British jurisprudence; and that in consequence of being received within the pale of this government, torture would be for ever banished from the island. It was not sufficient for him, therefore, to establish this sort of apology; it was required of him to show, that he complied with the institutions, under circumstances of irresistible necessity. This governor ought to have been aware that the torture was not known in England; and that it never would be, never could be tolerated in this country.

"The trial by rack was utterly unknown to the law of England, though once, when the Dukes of Exeter and Suffolk, and other ministers of Henry VI. had laid a design to introduce the civil law into this kingdom, as the rule of government, for a beginning thereof they erected a rack for torture, which was called in derision the Duke of Exeter's daughter, and still remained in the Tower of London, where it was occasionally used as an engine of state, not of law, more than once in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. But when, upon the assassination of Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, by Felton, it was proposed in the Privy Council to put the assassin to the rack, in order to discover his accomplices, the judges, being consulted, declared unanimously, to their own honour, and the honour of the English law, that no such proceeding was allowable by the laws of England.

"Such was the effect of the observations of the elegant and learned author of the Commentaries of the Law of England on this subject; and as the strongest method of showing the horror of the practice, he gave this question in the form of an arithmetical problem:--'The strength of the muscles and the sensibility of the nerves being given, it was required to know what degree of pain would be necessary to make any particular individual confess his guilt.'

"But what were they to say to this man, who, so far from having found torture in practice under the former governors, had attached to himself all the infamy of having invented this instrument of cruelty? Like the Duke of Exeter's Daughter, it never had existence until the defendant cursed the island with its production. He had incontestible evidence to show this ingenuity of tyranny in a British governor; and the moment he produced the sanguinary order, the man was left absolutely without defence. The date of this transaction was removed at some distance. It was directed that a commission should conduct the affairs of the government, and among the persons appointed to this important situation was Colonel Fullarton. In the exercise of his duties in that situation, he attained the knowledge of these facts; and with this information he thought it incumbent on him to bring this defendant before the jury; and with the defendant the victim of this enormity would also be produced."

Louisa Calderon was then called. She appeared about eighteen years of age, of a very interesting countenance, being a Mulatto or Creole, and of a very genteel appearance. She was dressed in white, with a turban of white muslin, tied on in the custom of the country. Her person was slender and graceful. She spoke English but very indifferently; and was examined by Mr. Adam, through the medium of a Spanish interpreter.

She deposed that she resided in the island of Trinidad in the year 1798; and lived in the house of Don Pedro Ruiz, and remembered the robbery. She and her mother were taken up on suspicion, and brought before Governor Picton, who committed them to prison, under the escort of three soldiers. She was put into close confinement; and before she was taken there the governor said, "If she did not confess who had stolen the money, the hangman would have to deal with her."

She was afterwards carried to the room where the torture was prepared. Her left hand was tied up to the ceiling by a rope, with a pulley; her right hand was tied behind, so that her right foot and hand came in contact, while the extremity of her left foot rested on the wooden spike. A drawing representing the exact situation, with the negro holding the rope by which she was suspended, was then shown to her; when she gave a shudder, expressive of horror, which nothing but the most painful recollection of her situation could have excited; on which Mr. Garrow expressed his concern that his Lordship was not in a position to witness this accidental, but conclusive, evidence of the fact.

The remainder of the witness's evidence corroborated the statement of Mr. Garrow. She remained upon the spike three quarters of an hour, and the next day twenty-two minutes. She swooned away each time before she was taken down, and was then put into irons, called the "grillos," which were long pieces of iron, with two rings for the feet, fastened to the wall, and in this situation she remained during eight months. The effect produced by the torture was excruciating pain; her wrists and ankles were much swollen, and the former bore the marks of the barbarity employed towards her to the present day.

Don Rafael Shandoz, an alguazil in the island, bore testimony to his having seen the girl immediately after the application of the torture. The apartment, in which she was afterwards confined, was like a garret, with sloping sides, and the grillos were so placed that, by the lowness of the room, she could by no means raise herself up, during the eight months of her confinement. There was no advocate appointed to attend on her behalf, and no surgeon to assist her. No one but a negro, belonging to Ballot, the gaoler, to pull the rope. The witness had been four or five years in the post of alguazil. He never knew the torture inflicted in the island, until the arrival of the defendant. There had been before no instrument for the purpose. The first he saw was in the barracks among the soldiers. Before Louisa Calderon, the instrument had been introduced into the gaol perhaps about six months. The first person he saw tortured in Trinidad was by direction of the defendant, who said to the gaoler, "Go and fetch the black man to the picket-guard, and put him to the torture." After the eight months' confinement, both Carlos and Louisa were discharged.

The order for the application of the torture, in the following words--"Applicase la question a Louisa Calderon"--(Apply the torture to Louisa Calderon)--was then proved to be in the handwriting of the defendant; and the suggestion of the alcade Beggerat, before whom the girl had been examined, that slight torture should be applied, was read.

Don Juan Montes then said that he had known the island of Trinidad since the year 1793. That the torture was never introduced until after the conquest of the island, and was then practised by order of the defendant. It was first used with the military in 1799, and two years afterwards in the gaol.

Mr. Dallas, for the defendant, rested his defence upon the following statements:--

First,--By the law of Spain, in the present instance, torture was directed; and, being bound to administer that law, he was vindicated in its application.

Secondly,--The order for the torture, if not unlawfully, was not maliciously issued.

Thirdly,--If it were unlawful, yet, if the order were erroneously or mistakenly issued, it was a complete answer to a criminal charge.

The learned counsel entered at considerable length into these positions, during which he compared the law of Spain, as it prevailed in Trinidad, to the law of England, as it subsisted in some of our own islands; and he contended that the conduct of General Picton was gentleness and humanity, compared to what might be practised with impunity under the authority of the British government.

Mr. Gloucester, the Attorney-General of his Majesty in the island, was then called, and he deposed to the authenticity of several books on the laws of the island, among which were the Elisondo, the Curia Philippica, the Bobadilla, the Colom, and the Recopilacion de Leyes.

Various passages in these books were referred to, and translated, for the purpose of showing that torture was not only permitted in certain cases, but in the particular instance before the jury.

Mr. Garrow was then allowed to call a witness, to show that, however such a law might at any time have existed, or might still exist, in Spain, it did not prevail in the West Indian colonies of that power. To this end, Don Pedro de Vargass was sworn. He deposed that, during the early part of his life, he had been regularly initiated and admitted to the office of an advocate of the Spanish law-courts in the colonies; that he had practised after his admission, in the regular course, for two years, and had resided at five or six of the West India islands, in the pursuit of his profession; and that, according to his knowledge of the Book of Recapitulation, by which the laws were administered, there was nothing contained in it to justify the infliction of torture, nor was torture, to his knowledge, ever resorted to. There was a law of Old Castile, of the year 1260, which justified the torture in certain cases, but he never understood that it extended to the West Indies, and it was so much abhorred in Spain, that it was either repealed, or had fallen entirely into disuse.

Mr. Dallas and Mr. Garrow then severally addressed the jury; and Lord Ellenborough in summing up, recommended them to divest their minds of every feeling which they might have contracted in the course of the present trial, and to throw every part of the case out of their consideration, except that which related to this simple point:--What was the law by which the island of Trinidad was governed at the period of its capture by the British? It was for the consideration of the jury whether the law then subsisting authorised personal torture to be inflicted. By the indulgence of the government of this country, the subsisting law was to continue; the question was, What was that subsisting law? The jury would observe, that it did not necessarily follow, because Trinidad was a colony of Old Spain, that it must therefore, in every part, have the laws of Old Spain. It did not originally form any part of that country, but had been annexed to it; and on what terms there was no positive evidence. It did not appear that either the schedule peculiar to this island, or the recapitulation, embraced the criminal law, or made any mention of torture. So, if torture did subsist in this island, it must be on the authority of law books read to the jury; and it was ascertained by several persons, apparently of competent knowledge, that torture had not, within their recollection, ever been practised in the island. It was, therefore, for the jury to say, in the absence of all positive proof on the subject, and in the face of so much negative evidence, whether the law of Spain was so fully and completely established in Trinidad as to make torture a part of the law of that island. Without going through the authorities, he thought the jury might take it to be the existing law of Old Spain, that torture might be inflicted. It was too much to say, that a discontinuance of a practice could repeal a law; but they had to determine whether they were convinced that torture had ever been part of the law of Trinidad; and also whether they were convinced that it was part of the law of Trinidad at the time of its capture. If so, they would enter a special verdict; if otherwise they would find the defendant guilty.

The jury found--There was no such law existing in the island of Trinidad, as that of torture, at the time of the surrender of that island to the British.

Lord Ellenborough--"Then, gentlemen, General Picton cannot derive any protection from a supposed law, after you have found that no such law remained in that island at the surrender of it, and when he became its governor; and therefore your verdict should be, that he is guilty."

By the direction of Lord Ellenborough they therefore found the defendant "Guilty."

The trial lasted from nine in the morning till seven at night.

Governor Picton walked the hall of the courts during the whole of the trial. He was a tall man, of a very sallow complexion, apparently about fifty years of age, and was dressed in black. He was accompanied by several of the civil officers of the island.

Mr. Dallas moved on the 25th of April for a new trial, upon the following grounds:--

First,--The infamous character of the girl, who lived in open prostitution with Pedro Ruiz, and who had been privy to a robbery committed upon her paramour by Carlos Gonzalez; and that when a complaint laid against her had been brought before a magistrate, she, refusing to confess, had been ordered to be tortured.

Secondly,--That Governor Picton, who condemned her to this torture, did not proceed from any motives of malice, but from a conviction that the right of torture was sanctioned by the laws of Trinidad; and that he was rooted in this opinion by a reference to the legal written authorities in that island.

Thirdly,--That whatever his conduct might be, it was certainly neither personal malice, nor disposition to tyranny, but resulted, if it should prove to be wrong, from a misapprehension of the laws of Trinidad.

Fourthly,--That one of the principal witnesses in this trial, M. Vargass, had brought forward a book, entitled "Recopilacion des Leyes des Indes," expressly compiled for the Spanish colonies, which did not authorise torture; and that the defendant had no opportunity of ever seeing that book; but it had been purchased by the British Institution at the sale of the Marquis of Lansdowne's library, subsequent to his indictment, and that having consulted it, it appeared that when that code was silent upon criminal cases, recourse was always to be had to the laws of Old Spain, and that those laws sanctioned the torture.

The Court, after some consideration, granted the rule to show cause why a new trial should not be had, and as the second trial, which was eventually allowed, was attended with a different result from that of the first, we think it no more than just to the memory of Governor Picton to conclude our notice of this affair with the following apology for his conduct, which is extracted from a respectable monthly publication:--

"In an evil hour the British Colonel associated with him, in the government of the island, the British naval commander on the station, and Colonel Fullarton. This was, as might naturally have been expected, and as certainly was designed by one of the parties, the origin of disputes and the source of anarchy. It is well known that Fullarton, on his return to England, preferred charges against Picton, which were taken into consideration by the Privy Council, and gave rise to a prosecution that lasted for several years. No pains were spared to sully his character, to ruin his fortunes, and to render him an object of public indignation. A little strumpet, by name Louisa Calderon, who cohabited with a petty tradesman in the capital of Trinidad, let another paramour into his house (of which she had the charge) during his absence, who robbed him, with her knowledge and privity, of all he was worth in the world. The girl was taken before the regular judges of the place; who, in the course of their investigation, ascertained the fact that she was privy to the robbery, and therefore sentenced her, in conformity with the laws of Spain, then prevalent in the island, to undergo the punishment of the picket (the same as is adopted in our own regiments of horse); but, as it was necessary that this sentence should receive the governor's confirmation before it could be carried into effect, a paper, stating the necessity of it, was sent to the government-house, and the governor, by his signature, conveyed his assent to the judges. The girl was accordingly picketed, when she acknowledged the facts above stated, and discovered her accomplice. That the life of this girl was forfeited by the laws of every civilised country is a fact that will not admit of dispute; yet clemency was here extended to her, and she was released, having suffered only the punishment above stated; which was so slight, that she walked a considerable distance to the prison, without the least appearance of suffering, immediately after it was inflicted. But what was the return for the lenity of the governor? He was accused by Colonel Fullarton of having put this girl (whom he had never even seen) to the torture, contrary to law; and the caricaturists of England were enlisted in the service of persecution. After a trial which seemed to have no end, after an expense of seven thousand pounds, which must have completed his ruin, had not his venerable uncle, General Picton, defrayed the whole costs of the suit, while the expenses of his prosecutor were all paid by the government, his honour and justice were established on the firmest basis, and to the perfect satisfaction of every upright mind."

RICHARD PATCH.

EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF MR. BLIGHT.

The case of this offender is one of those which fully prove, that the most wicked caution, the most deliberately planned scheme, or the most artful preparatory measures to attach suspicion to some other than the real cause, or to make it fall upon the guiltless, will never conceal murder.

Richard Patch was born in the year 1770, at the village of Heavytree, Devonshire, within two miles of Exeter, and his family had a name somewhat respectable among the yeomen of the county. The grandfather of Patch had a freehold estate in land, of the value of fifty pounds per annum, in a neighbouring village. His father, according to the custom of many of the petty farmers who reside on the sea-coast in the distant counties, was a smuggler, and he was noted for a fierceness and an unusual degree of intrepidity; but as the life of a smuggler is variable in its scenes, so he was doomed to change his bold deeds and his unlawful proceedings for a quiet sojourn in the New Gaol at Exeter, where he was sentenced to be imprisoned for twelve months, on a conviction obtained at the instance of the officers of Excise. At the termination of the period of his imprisonment, he was engaged by the keeper of the prison as a gaoler, and he continued to occupy that post until the period of his death. He left several children, of whom our hero was the eldest. He had been bound apprentice to a butcher at Ebmere, a small village, the most notorious in the county for the immorality of its inhabitants, and it is exceedingly probable that his mind was early inured to thoughts of evil deeds. Upon his father's decease, he quitted his service as a butcher, and taking possession of the property, to which, as the eldest son, he was entitled, he became a farmer. His efforts, however, in this line were attended with no success, and he was soon obliged to mortgage the property which he possessed for more than one-half its value.

Some years were afterwards passed at Ebmere, when an accident drove him from his home. From motives which it is unnecessary to examine, he had quarrelled with the rector of his parish, and, in order to be revenged, he removed the produce of his farm from his land, without setting out the tenths for the rector; or, in other words, he refused to pay the tithes. The consequence was a lawsuit, and an immediate action in the Exchequer. Patch, shuddering at the expense of the litigation, and the certain result which awaited him, and already somewhat embarrassed in his circumstances, quitted Devonshire, in the spring of the year 1803.

Upon his coming to London, he immediately presented himself at Mr. Blight's, with whom his sister, at that time, lived as a menial servant; together with a brother of his who was brought up a baker, but, for some reasons which it is unnecessary to enter into, was now in the service of Mr. Blight, as a kind of overseer or superintendant in the shipping business.

Mr. Blight, it appears, had formerly been a West India merchant, and had failed; upon which he engaged in the ship-breaking business, and was at this time carrying it on with great success.

Patch had not long entered the service of Mr. Blight, when, from jealousy or some uneasiness, his brother quitted it. He had been disappointed in endeavouring to set up for himself in the business of a baker to which he was bred; and this mortification, aggravated by the conduct of his brother Richard, excited such a disgust in his mind, that he immediately went to sea, sailed to the West Indies, where he soon died a victim to the yellow fever.

The thoughts of a partnership with his employer ere long struck our hero, and he was induced to look upon the scheme with some anticipations of its realisation, hoping to be able to purchase a share of the business with the proceeds of his estate in Devonshire. He, in consequence, proceeded into that county, and having disposed of his land, he cleared off all its encumbrances, and received a sum of 350_l._ as the surplus, after the payment of all expenses. On his return to London at the close of the year 1804, he made his desire known to his employer, and he paid over to him a sum of 250_l._ as a portion of the purchase-money, and deposited the remainder in the hands of a banker.

The exact nature of the agreement made does not appear, but whatever the negotiations may have been, they were suddenly stopped by the murder of Mr. Blight, who was mortally wounded, while sitting in his own house, by a pistol discharged by an unseen hand, on the 23rd September 1805. The extraordinary nature of the murder, and the still more singular method of its perpetration attracted universal attention, and a minute investigation of all the circumstances having taken place before Mr. Graham a magistrate, suspicion fell upon Patch, and he was committed to prison.

His trial came on at the Surrey assizes, continued by adjournment to Horsemonger-lane, in the Borough, on Saturday, 5th April 1806. In the mean time the interest produced in reference to the case was of the most extraordinary nature.

By five o'clock in the morning of the trial, a vast concourse of the populace had assembled, and on the opening of the Court it was with the utmost difficulty that the law-officers and others could obtain an entrance. The Dukes of Sussex, Cumberland, and Orleans; Lords Portsmouth, Grantley, Cranley, Montford, William Russel, Deerhurst, and G. Seymour; Sir John Frederick, Sir John Shelley, Sir Thomas Turton, Sir William Clayton, Sir J. Mawby; Count Woronzow, the Russian ambassador, and his secretary, were present. The magistrates had made every accommodation that the Court would admit of: and a box was fitted up for the royal family.

The prisoner was conducted into court soon after nine o'clock, and took his station at the bar, attended by two or three friends. He was genteelly dressed in black, and perfect composure marked his countenance and manner. Precisely at ten o'clock, the Lord Chief Baron Macdonald took his seat on the bench; and to the indictment the prisoner pleaded, in an audible voice, "Not guilty."

He peremptorily challenged three jurors; after which a jury was sworn, and the indictment read.

The first witness called was Mr. Richard Frost, a publican, who kept the Dog and Duck. The first part of his testimony related merely to the fact of the death of Mr. Blight. He stated, that on the morning of the 23rd of September last, he was sent for by the prisoner, in consequence of the deceased having been killed by a pistol-shot: he went, and found him leaning on his hands and wounded.

Mr. Astley Cooper said he was called in to the assistance of Mr. Blight. Upon examining him he found he had received a wound near the navel, and another in the groin. He observed that they were gun-shot wounds; and as the body of the deceased was considerably inflated, he pronounced them mortal: he observed the bowels coming through the wounds. The next morning, at seven o'clock, Patch came to him, said the deceased was in extreme pain, and wished to know whether anything could be done for him. The witness told him he feared there could not; but he rose and went to him, and found him in a very swollen state. He promised to return in the afternoon with a physician. He went to town, and came back with Dr. Barrington; but Mr. Blight had been dead about three quarters of an hour. He had not the smallest doubt that the wounds were the occasion of his death.

Richard Frost was again called up to speak to the firing of the gun. He stated that on Thursday, the 19th, "there was a report of the firing of a gun at Mr. Blight's house;" he went out to ascertain the cause, but did not perceive any person coming from the premises; and he was in a situation in which, had the person who fired it attempted to make his escape, he must have observed him; it was about eight o'clock in the evening, and it was dark; but he was near enough to have seen any one run away, or climb the wall.

Miss Ann Davis and Miss Martha Davis, sisters, who happened to be walking by the premises in a different direction from the last witness, stated, that they also saw the flash, and heard the report of a gun, and must have seen any person attempting to escape; but all was quiet, and they concluded that the gun was fired by some one on the premises.

After this head of evidence, to establish that the gun fired on the Thursday preceding the death of Mr. Blight, was not by any stranger, but by the prisoner, witnesses were called to relate the circumstances which occurred on the 23rd.

Mr. Michael Wright stated that he was going past Mr. Blight's house a little after eight, when he heard the report of a pistol in the house; and having become acquainted by the rumour of the former attempt, he was induced to go up to the house with a view to offer his assistance. He knocked for some time and was not admitted; but insisting on having the door opened, Patch made his appearance, and began informing him what a dreadful accident had happened. The witness was impatient at hearing this story; he thought that some means should be rather adopted to pursue the murderer, and recommended Patch to commission him to apply to Bow-street, as an inquiry taking place instantly after the assassination would most probably be attended with success. Patch seemed reluctant, and thought that no good effect could result from it. The witness therefore went away.

Hester Kitchener's evidence applied to the two days. She stated that on the 19th she had been ordered by the prisoner to shut up the shutters of the house earlier than usual. Her master and mistress were then at Margate. At eight o'clock the prisoner sent her out for some oysters; and as she returned, she heard the report of a gun, but she did not see any one. When she saw Patch, he cried, "Oh, Hester, I have been shot at!" She rejoined, "Lord forbid!" They then looked for the ball, which she found. The witness continued to state that her master returned to town on the Monday morning; that in the evening he and the prisoner drank tea together in the back parlour, and afterwards had some grog. Her master was fatigued, heavy, and sleepy with his journey and the liquor; and Patch came down in a hurry to her in the kitchen, and complaining of a pain in his bowels, wanted a light to go into the yard. She gave it to him, as also a key of the counting-house, through which it was necessary he should pass. She heard him enter the back place and slam the door after him, and immediately after, she heard the report of a pistol. Her master ran down into the kitchen, exclaiming, "Oh, Hester, I am a dead man!" and supported himself upon the dresser. She ran up to shut the door; and as she was half-way down the passage, on her return, she heard Patch knocking violently for admittance. He asked what was the matter; she told him; on which he went down and offered his assistance. He asked the deceased if he knew of any one who could owe him a grudge? Mr. Blight answered, "No, as he was not at enmity with any man in the world."

Mr. Christopher Morgan said that he was passing by when the fatal shot was fired; he went to the house, and saw Mr. Blight lying in a wounded situation, and recommended Mr. Patch, in the first instance, to search the premises all over. Patch told him to go and search an old ship that was off the wharf, as he had reason to think that the perpetrator might have escaped there; for he heard a noise in that direction on the night when the gun was previously fired; and he went, but found that the ship was lying at the distance of sixteen feet from the wharf; that it was low water: that from the top of the wharf to the mud was ten feet; that the soil was soft mud, and that any one who might attempt to escape that way must have been up to his middle. Besides, the mud did not bear the appearance of any one having passed through it; and he was, therefore, perfectly convinced that no one escaped over the wharf towards the water.

Six other persons, who happened to be in different directions leading from Mr. Blight's house to the public roads, most distinctly proved, that when the shot was fired which killed Mr. Blight, everything was quiet on the outside of the premises; that there was no appearance of any person attempting to escape; and if there had been, that there was no possibility of his eluding observation.

The next series of evidence went to show that the prisoner was carrying on a system of delusion and fraud against the deceased, in respect to certain pecuniary transactions between them. It was proved by Mrs. Blight, the deceased's widow, that her husband, who had fallen into some embarrassments, had, in order to mask his property, made a nominal assignment of it to Patch; but the assignment was not to be carried into effect, unless the trustees of his creditors should, as he apprehended, become importunate. This confidential assignment Patch wished to convert into an absolute sale, for consideration given on his part; but Mrs. Blight declared that he had never paid her husband any money, excepting two hundred and fifty pounds, part of one thousand two hundred and fifty pounds, the consideration for a share of his business.

The next branch of evidence referred to the stockings which the prisoner had on the night that Mr. Blight lost his life. It was proved that he generally wore boots; but the witnesses' memory enabled them to say that he had white stockings on during the evening of the 23rd. Mr. Stafford, of the police-office, stated that, on examining the bed-room of Mr. Patch, they were folded up like a clean pair, but that, on opening them, the soles appeared dirty, as if a person had walked in them without shoes: the inference from this was, that the prisoner had taken off his shoes in order that he might walk out of the necessary without being heard by the maid.

The last important fact was the discovery of the ramrod of a pistol in the privy, and the proof that that place had not recently been visited by any person suffering under a bowel complaint. This, and a vast variety of circumstantial evidence, concluded the case on the part of the crown.

The prisoner being called upon for his defence, delivered in a long and elaborate address, supposed to have been written by his counsel, which he requested might be read by the officer of the court: it began by thanking the learned judge for moving his trial from a place where prejudice might have operated against him; complained much of that prejudice having been excited against him by premature reports in the public journals; and then entered into a general train of argument, inferring, that in a case of life and death, a jury ought not to convict upon circumstantial evidence; the more especially where the proof appeared, as in the present case, so dubious. He stated that whatever might be the result of their judgment upon the evidence, it was almost a matter of indifference to him on his own account; for he was borne down and subdued by the unjust prejudices of the public, by the long imprisonment he had endured, and by the enormous expenses to which he had been subjected; but he had those relations who made life dear to him: he had children who looked to him for support, and who would not only be dishonoured, but ruined by his death. The only evidence which he adduced was that of three persons who spoke to his general character.

The Lord Chief Baron summed up the evidence in the most perspicuous manner, occupying nearly two hours in commenting upon every part of it; when the jury retired for about a quarter of an hour, and on their return pronounced a verdict of Guilty.

His lordship then proceeded to pronounce the awful sentence of the law. He observed, that the prisoner had begun his career of guilt in a system of fraud towards his friend; he had continued it in ingratitude, and had terminated it in blood. He then directed that he should be executed on Monday, and that his body should be delivered for dissection.

Patch, who had the appearance of a decent yeoman, and was about thirty-eight years of age, during the whole of the trial never betrayed the slightest symptom of embarrassment: his appearance evinced a seeming composure, which innocence alone could manifest, or the most consummate villany could counterfeit. He heard the dreadful sentence with a degree of apathy, as if he had previously made up his mind to the event. The execution was eventually deferred till the next Tuesday, it being deemed advisable that he should suffer with a man and his wife, Benjamin and Sarah Herring, who had been convicted at Kingston, March 28, of coining, in order to obviate the inconvenience of having two public executions following each other so closely. It was in consequence of this suggestion of Mr. Ives, the keeper, to the Chief Baron (who, with the Dukes of Sussex and Gloucester, retired to his house after the trial), that his lordship was induced to order the respite, which he wrote thus on the margin of the first order for execution:--

"Let the execution be respited till Tuesday, the 8th day of April, 1806.

"A. MACDONALD."

It seems that Herring and his wife had carried on the trade of coining to a great extent, at their own house in St. George's Fields. On searching their premises, a complete set of coining implements, punches, aquafortis, &c., were found, besides upwards of seventy shillings, a quantity of dollars, half-crowns, and sixpences, all ready for circulation.

But to return to Patch.--This criminal, after condemnation, remained perfectly calm and unembarrassed. He slept well during the greater part of the Saturday night, rose at nine o'clock on the next morning, and attended divine service at half-past ten. About a quarter before eleven, the Rev. Mr. Mann, the ordinary, preached the condemned sermon, in a style the most impressive and affecting; to which Mr. Patch paid becoming attention. On his return, he looked the gaoler steadfastly in the face for about two minutes, and then ejaculated, "I am innocent;" but he appeared composed as usual during the remainder of the day. He continued to preserve a sullen silence until Monday afternoon, when that composure which had marked his countenance left him. He was informed by the ordinary of the gaol, that his friends approached to take their last farewell of him for ever, when he gave up all hope of a reprieve, and exclaimed, "Is no mercy to be expected?" His relations, viz., his sister, who had lived with Mr. Blight, a younger brother, who bore a strong resemblance in person to the unfortunate man, and a brother-in-law, with his wife, a nephew, and another distant relation, were admitted to him, and remained with him until three o'clock, when they took their last farewell. Patch was now most sensibly affected, and the scene was truly distressing. He embraced each of his relatives, and wept bitterly, clinging to them until the moment had arrived when their absence was required. After this affecting scene, Mr. Ives, the governor of the prison, went to his cell, and Patch here uttered an expression adequate to a confession of his guilt. He said, "I have confessed my sins to God; man can give me no relief." He was also visited by the Rev. Mr. Mann, and three dissenting ministers. In their interviews with him he evinced the strongest proofs of a penitent sinner; but invariably declined to give any answer to the urgent entreaties of the clergymen to acknowledge the crime for which he was to die. Mr Graham, the magistrate who committed him to prison, was the last person admitted to see him on this night. Before they parted Mr. Patch took him by the hand, and said, emphatically, "We shall, I trust, meet in Heaven."

The three dissenting ministers remained with him during the night, and he appeared extremely penitent and devout.

At about half-past six o'clock on Tuesday morning, the Rev. Mr. Mann, and the curate of the Rev. Mr. Rowland Hill, came to the prison, and after a short interview Patch and Herring received the sacrament, Mrs. Herring, who was a Catholic, being left with a priest, the Rev. Mr. Griffiths.

About five minutes before nine o'clock the high-sheriff demanded the bodies of the unfortunate sufferers; and immediately after, they began to move in the usual order, followed by Mr. Ives, the keeper of the prison. When they got to the open yard, Herring and his wife were placed on a sledge, and drawn to the entrance of the stair-case leading to the apparatus for the execution, from which they ascended the stairs with as much firmness as could be expected. Patch displayed his usual intrepidity.

While Jack Ketch was fastening the ropes, the Rev. Mr. Mann attended Patch, and, for the last time, attempted to draw from him a confession, but with no better success. The sheriff then went to him, and entreated him to confess; but he steadfastly refused. At this time the cap was drawn upon his face, and everything prepared to launch him into eternity. Apparently displeased at being pressed so much upon the subject, he now threw himself considerably back with impatience. From the violent motion of his body, some of the spectators supposed that he meant to break his neck, as Avershaw did on Kennington-common; Mr. Ives immediately went to him and said, "My good friend, what are you about?" and they conversed together for about a minute and a half. The unfortunate prisoners were then immediately put to death by the falling of the drop.

The execution took place on the 8th of April, 1806.

The body of Patch, after hanging the usual time, was taken to the hospital of the prison, in order to be anatomised by the county surgeon. He was an athletic, broad-shouldered man, about five feet seven inches high, and to the last maintained his florid looks, which, however, were constitutional, and not the effect of any extraordinary degree of determination.

WILLIAM DUNCAN,

CONVICTED OF THE MURDER OF HIS MASTER.

This case is worthy of remark from the singular mode in which the murder of the unfortunate gentleman, the employer of the prisoner, was committed. It appears that Duncan was in the service of Mr. Chivers, a gentleman between seventy and eighty years of age, and much troubled with the gout, who resided at Clapham-common, as gardener. On the morning of the 24th of January, 1807, he was at work as usual in the garden, when his master, according to his custom, went out to him to superintend his proceedings. At about half-past 11 o'clock, the gardener suddenly ran in doors, exclaiming, "Lord, what have I done; I have struck my master, and he has fallen," and immediately left the house. The footman proceeded into the garden to discover what had happened, and found his master lying on the ground, with his face most frightfully cut. He directly procured surgical aid, when it was found that Mr. Chivers had received a wound with a spade, the end of which had entered the lower part of his nose, had broken both his jaw-bones, and had penetrated nearly to a line with his ears, so that his head was almost divided. The unfortunate gentleman died immediately afterwards, and the prisoner was subsequently secured, and committed to Horsemonger-lane gaol.

The prisoner was indicted at the ensuing assizes, when the offence having been brought home to him by the witnesses for the prosecution, he was called on for his defence. He then addressed the Court as follows:--

"I beg leave to assure your lordship that I never bore Mr. Chivers any malice whatever. On Saturday morning I had been employed in digging some ground, and with my spade in my hand I went to the green-house to give it some air, and there I left my spade. I then went for some refreshment, at eleven o'clock in the morning, as was usual, and, on going into the kitchen, I saw the footman, of whom I asked how long it was since Mr. Chivers went out. I went into the garden, and to the green-house, into which I let a little more air, and, with my spade in my hand, I looked at a vine. I saw Mr. Chivers, told him that I had finished my digging, and said I was very sorry to have left so good a place, and now to be turned off. A few words passed between Mr. Chivers and me; and the last expression he used was, 'You scoundrel, I will break your skull.' He shook his cane over me; he made an attempt to strike at me, when I, turning aside, escaped; he again endeavoured to strike, and I avoided the blow. After this he followed me up with his cane, and I then had, as I before said, a spade in my hand. I raised the spade, and to my surprise struck him.

"Immediately afterwards I went into the green-house, with the full intention of taking away my own life, but I had not sufficient courage to do it. I then went into the kitchen, and called Henry, who said 'What is the matter?' and I replied, 'Good Lord, I have struck my master, and he fell!' I went out towards Clapham, and the first persons I saw were a butler and a gardener. I went to the garden of Mr. Robert Thornton, and asked for Mr. Dixon, who is one of the gardeners. They said he was cutting a vine; but they went to him, and Mr. Dixon sent me word that I might come to him. I then informed Mr. Dixon of what had happened, and upon his advice surrendered myself into custody."

Witnesses having been called, who gave the prisoner an excellent character, the jury found him guilty, and he was sentenced to be executed on the following Monday in the usual form. He was, however, twice respited, and eventually ordered to be transported for life.

JOHN HOLLOWAY AND OWEN HAGGERTY,

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

The fatal accident which happened on the spot and at the moment of the execution of these men, by which more than forty people lost their lives, and many more were terribly bruised, will cause their memory, as well as their crimes, to remain a dreadful warning to many generations. Their whole case was attended with singular and awful circumstances. Of their guilt many entertained doubts, which are not yet entirely removed, although no further discovery has been made respecting the horrid deed; and as lately as the year 1813, a man named Ward was indicted for the same murder, but acquitted. Their conviction rested, certainly, upon the evidence of a wretch as base as themselves, who stated himself to have been their accomplice; but the public indignation against them was excited to such a pitch, that it is scarcely to be wondered at that a jury pronounced them guilty.

On the 6th of November, 1802, Mr. John Cole Steele, who kept the Lavender Warehouse in Catharine-street, Strand, was murdered, with much barbarity, on Hounslow Heath, and his pockets rifled of their contents. The murderers escaped; and, though rewards were offered for their apprehension, no discovery was made.

Every search had been made by the officers of the police after them; several loose characters had been apprehended on suspicion, but discharged on examination; and all hopes had been given up of tracing the murderers, when a circumstance occurred, about four years afterwards, which led to the apprehension of John Holloway and Owen Haggerty.--A man of the name of Benjamin Hanfield, who had been convicted, at the Old Bailey, of grand larceny, in stealing a pair of shoes, was sentenced to seven years' transportation, and was conveyed on board a hulk at Portsmouth, to await his departure for New South Wales; but having been taken with a severe illness, and being tortured in his mind by the apparent recollection of a murder, about which he constantly raved, he said he wished to make a discovery before he died. A messenger was immediately despatched to the police magistrates at Bow-street, to communicate the circumstance, and an officer was sent to bring him before them. When he was brought on shore, they were obliged to wait several days, during which his illness would not permit his removal. On his arrival in town, he made a full disclosure of the circumstances attending the murder of Mr. Steele, and the magistrates having sent him, in custody of an officer, to Hounslow Heath, he there pointed out the fatal spot where the murder was perpetrated. As his evidence implicated Haggerty and Holloway, measures were taken to apprehend them, and, after a long search, they were taken into custody. Several private examinations of all the parties took place. Hanfield was admitted king's evidence, and the public once more cherished a hope that the murderers would meet the punishment they deserved.

Monday, February 9, 1807, being the day appointed for the final examination of the prisoners, they were brought before Mr. Moser, at Worship-street Police-office.

There was a great body of evidence adduced, none of which tended materially to criminate the prisoners, except that of Hanfield, the accomplice, who, under the promise of pardon, had turned king's evidence. The prisoners denied having any knowledge whatever of the crime laid to their charge, and heartily hoped that punishment would come to the guilty; but, the magistrates, after maturely considering the whole of the proofs adduced, thought proper to commit them for trial at the next sessions at the Old Bailey, and bound over no less than twenty-four persons to appear and give evidence on the trial.

Such was the eager curiosity of the public to know the issue of this trial, which came on February 20, before Sir Simon Le Blanc, knight, that the whole Court and area of the Old Bailey were greatly crowded.--When put to the bar, Holloway appeared to be about forty years of age, of great muscular strength, tall, and of savage, brutal, and ferocious countenance, with large thick lips, depressed nose, and high cheek bones. Haggerty was a small man, twenty-four years of age.

Evidence was then adduced to show, that Mr. Steele, besides his residence in Catherine-street, had a house and grounds at Feltham, where he cultivated lavender and distilled it for sale in London. On the 5th of November, 1802, he left Catherine-street, giving his family to understand that he should return on the following evening, and on the same night he arrived at Feltham. On the next afternoon (Saturday) he quitted Feltham at about seven o'clock, on his way back to London, but he was never seen alive by any member of his family afterwards. His continued absence creating alarm, some persons were employed to search for him, and at length his body was found lying at the bottom of a ditch, near a clump of trees, at a short distance from the barracks on Hounslow Heath. From the wounds which appeared about his person, it was evident that his death had been caused by violence, and Mr. Frogley, a surgeon, being called in, it was found that his skull was severely fractured, and that he was otherwise wounded in a most dreadful manner. It was found also that he had been robbed of any money which he might have had about him, as well as of his hat and boots: an old pair of shoes and a common felt hat being left in their stead, close to the spot where the body was found. Notwithstanding the most strenuous exertions were subsequently made by the police to discover the perpetrators of this most barbarous murder, no trace was found until the confession of the accomplice Hanfield, when Vickery, the officer, was despatched to Portsmouth to bring that person to London. On his way over Hounslow Heath, he pointed out the exact spot where the body was found, as that at which the murder was perpetrated, and in consequence of his information Holloway was apprehended at Brentford, during the election, and Haggerty was taken into custody on board the Shannon frigate, in the Channel, where he was serving as a marine. They were both taken to the police-office and confronted, but they denied all knowledge of each other, and of Hanfield, and they both gave accounts of themselves as to their condition and situation at the time of the murder, which, however, turned out to be untrue. While confined in the lock-up, attached to the office, Bishop, the officer, secreted himself in the privy adjoining, where he could hear all their conversation, and he heard them make use of expressions, which left no doubt of their being acquainted, or of their having been at Hounslow on the night of the murder.

The king's pardon, under the great seal, to Hanfield alias Enfield, remitting his sentence of transportation for seven years, for a larceny of which he had been convicted, and restoring him to his competency as a witness, having then been read, that witness was called, and made the following statement on oath:--"I have known Haggerty eight or nine years, and Holloway six or seven. We were accustomed to meet at the Black Horse, and Turk's Head, public-houses, in Dyot-street. I was in their company in the month of November 1802. Holloway, just before the murder, called me out from the Turk's Head, and asked me if I had any objection to be in a good thing? I replied I had not. He said it was a 'Low Toby' meaning it was a footpad robbery. I asked when and where, and he said he would let me know. We parted, and two days after we met again, and Saturday, the 6th of November, was appointed. I asked who was to go with us? He replied that Haggerty had agreed to make one. We all three met on the Saturday at the Black Horse, when Holloway said, 'Our business is to sarve a gentleman on Hounslow Heath, who, I understand, travels that road with property.' We then drank for about three or four hours, and about the middle of the day we set off for Hounslow. We stopped at the Bell public-house, and took some porter. We proceeded from thence upon the road towards Belfont, and expressed our hope that we should get a good booty. We stopped near the eleventh mile-stone, and secreted ourselves in a clump of trees. While there, the moon got up, and Holloway said we had come too soon. After loitering about a considerable time, Holloway said he heard a footstep, and we proceeded towards Belfont. We presently saw a man coming towards us, and, on approaching him, we ordered him to stop, which he immediately did. Holloway went round him, and told him to deliver. He said we should have his money, and hoped we would not ill-use him. The deceased put his hand in his pocket, and gave Haggerty his money. I demanded his pocket-book. He replied that he had none.--Holloway insisted that he had a book, and if he did not deliver it he would knock him down. I then laid hold of his legs. Holloway stood at his head, and said if he cried out he would knock out his brains. The deceased again said he hoped we would not ill-use him. Haggerty proceeded to search him, when the deceased made some resistance, and struggled so much, that we got across the road. He cried out severely; and, as a carriage was coming up, Holloway said, with a terrible oath, 'Take care, I will silence him;' and immediately struck him several violent blows on the head and body. The deceased heaved a deep groan, and stretched himself out lifeless. I felt alarmed, and said, 'John, you have killed the man.' Holloway replied that it was a lie, for he was only stunned. I said I would stay no longer, and immediately set off towards London, leaving Holloway and Haggerty with the body. I came to Hounslow, and stopped at the end of the town for near an hour. Holloway and Haggerty then came up, and said they had done the trick, and as a token, put the deceased's hat into my hand.--The hat Holloway went down in was like a soldier's hat. I told Holloway it was a cruel piece of business, and that I was sorry I had any hand in it. We all turned down a lane, and returned to London. As we came along I asked Holloway if he had got the pocket-book. He replied it was no matter, for, as I had refused to share the danger, I should not share the booty. We came to the Black Horse in Dyot-street, had half a pint of gin, and parted. Haggerty went down in shoes, but I don't know if he came back in them. The next day I observed Holloway had a hat upon his head which was too small for him. I asked him if it was the same he got the preceding night. He said it was. We met again on the Monday, when I told Holloway that he acted imprudently in wearing the hat, as it might lead to a discovery. He put the hat into my hand, and I observed the name of Steele in it. I repeated my fears.--At night Holloway brought the hat in a handkerchief, and we went to Westminster-bridge, filled the hat with stones, and, having tied the lining over it, threw it into the Thames."

The witness, being cross-examined by the counsel for the prisoners, said he had made no other minutes of the transactions he had been detailing than what his conscience took cognisance of. It was accident that led to this disclosure. He was talking with other prisoners in Newgate of particular robberies that had taken place; and the Hounslow robbery and murder being stated amongst others, he inadvertently said, that there were only three persons who knew of that transaction. The remark was circulated and observed upon, and a rumour ran through the prison that he was about to turn "nose" and he was obliged to hold his tongue, lest he should be ill-used.--When at Portsmouth, on board the hulks, the compunctions of conscience came upon him, and he was obliged to dissipate his thoughts by drinking, to prevent him from divulging all he knew. He admitted that he had led a vicious life, that he had been concerned in several robberies, and had entered and deserted from several regiments. He had served in the East and West London militias, had enlisted into the ninth and fourteenth light dragoons, and had been in the army of reserve. He added that he was ashamed and sorry at what he had been, and would endeavour to mend his life in future.

Evidence, in corroboration of his statement, with regard to the hat and boots fitting Holloway, was also given by Mr. Steele's tradespeople, and the prosecution being closed, the prisoners were called upon to make their defence.

Haggerty protested that he was completely innocent of the charge, and was totally unacquainted with the witness, Hanfield. He denied ever having been at Hounslow, and endeavoured to point out some inconsistencies in the evidence which had been adduced.

Holloway declared that he was equally innocent; but admitted that he had been at Hounslow more than once; and that he might have been in the company of the prisoner Haggerty and Hanfield, although he said that he was not acquainted with either of them.

Mr. Justice Le Blanc summed up the evidence in a very clear and perspicuous manner, and the jury having retired for about a quarter of an hour, returned with a verdict of Guilty against both the prisoners.

The recorder immediately passed sentence in the most solemn and impressive manner, and the unhappy men were ordered for execution on the following Monday morning, February the 23rd, 1807.

They went from the bar reiterating protestations of their innocence, and apparently careless of the miserable and ignominious fate that awaited them.

After conviction Haggerty and Holloway conducted themselves with the most decided indifference. On Saturday, February 21, the cell-door, No. 1, in which they were both confined, was opened about half-past two. They were reading in two prayer-books by candle-light, as the cell was very dark. On Sunday, neither of them attended the condemned sermon, and several magistrates interrogated them; but they still persisted in their innocence.

During the whole of Sunday night the convicts were engaged in prayer. They never slept, but broke the awful stillness of midnight by frequent reciprocal protestations of innocence. At five they were called, dressed, and shaved, and about seven were brought into the press-yard. There was some difficulty in knocking off the irons of Haggerty, and he voluntarily assisted, though he seemed much dejected. A message was then delivered to the sheriffs, that Holloway wanted to speak with them in private. This excited very sanguine expectations of confession; but the sheriffs, on their return, intimated to the gentlemen in the press-yard, that Holloway wanted to address them publicly; and therefore requested they would form themselves into a circle, from the centre of which Holloway delivered, in the most solemn manner, the following energetic address:--"Gentlemen, I am quite innocent of this affair. I never was with Hanfield, nor do I know the spot. I will kneel and swear it." He then knelt down and imprecated curses on his head if he were guilty, and he concluded by saying, "By God, I am innocent."

Owen Haggerty first ascended the scaffold. His arms were pinioned, and the halter had been already placed round his neck: he wore a white cap, and a light olive shag great-coat: he looked downwards, and was silent. He was attended by a Roman Catholic clergyman, who read to him, and to whom the unfortunate culprit seemed to pay great attention; he made no public acknowledgment of guilt. After the executioner had tied the fatal noose, he brought up Holloway, who wore a smock frock and jacket, as it had been stated by the approver that he did at the time of the murder: he had also a white cap on, was pinioned, and had a halter round his neck: he had his hat in his hand; and mounting the scaffold, he jumped and made an awkward bow, and said, "I am innocent, innocent, by God!" He then turned round, and, bowing, made use of the same expressions, "Innocent, innocent, innocent! Gentlemen!--No verdict! No verdict! No verdict! Gentlemen. Innocent! innocent!" At this moment, and while in the act of saying something more, the executioner proceeded to do his office, by placing the cap over his face; to which he, with apparent reluctance, complied; at the same time uttering some words which were not heard. As soon as the rope was fixed round his neck, he continued quiet. He was attended in his devotions by an assistant at Rowland Hill's Chapel.

The last that mounted the scaffold was Elizabeth Godfrey. She had been a woman of the town, aged 34, and had been capitally convicted of the wilful murder of Richard Prince, in Mary-le-bone parish, on the 25th of December 1806, by giving him a mortal wound with a pocket-knife in the left eye, of which wound he languished and died. Immediately on receiving sentence, this woman's firmness and recollection seemed to fail her, and she appeared bordering upon a state of frenzy. At the place of execution she was dressed in white, with a close cap, and long sleeves, and was attended by the Rev. Mr. Ford, the Ordinary of Newgate; but her feelings appeared to be so much overpowered, that notwithstanding she bore the appearance of resignation in her countenance, her whole frame was so shaken by the terror of her situation, that she was incapable of any actual devotion.

They were all launched off together, at about a quarter after eight. It was a long time before the body of the poor female seemed to have gone through its last suffering.

The crowd which assembled to witness this execution was unparalleled, being, according to the best calculation, near 40,000; and the fatal catastrophe, which happened in consequence, will cause the day long to be remembered. By eight o'clock, not an inch of ground was unoccupied in view of the platform, and the pressure of the crowd was so great, that before the malefactors appeared, numbers of persons were crying out in vain to escape from it. The attempt only tended to increase the confusion, and several females of low stature, who had been so imprudent as to venture among the mob, were in a dismal situation: their cries were dreadful. Some, who could be no longer supported by the men, were suffered to fall, and were trampled to death, and this was also the case with several boys. In all parts there were continual cries of "Murder! murder!" particularly from the female part of the spectators and children, some of whom were seen expiring without the possibility of obtaining the least assistance, every one being employed in endeavours to preserve his own life. The most affecting scene of distress was seen at Green Arbour Lane, nearly opposite the Debtor's-door. The terrible occurrence which took place near this spot was attributed to the circumstance of two pie-men attending there to dispose of their pies, and it appears that one of them having his basket overthrown, which stood upon a sort of stool upon four legs, some of the mob, not being aware of what had happened, and at the same time being severely pressed, fell over the basket and the man, at the moment he was picking it up, together with its contents. Those who fell were never more suffered to rise, and were soon numbered with the dead.

At this fatal place a man of the name of Herrington was thrown down, who had in his hand his youngest son, a fine boy, about twelve years of age. The youth was soon trampled to death; but the father recovered, though much bruised, and was amongst the wounded in St. Bartholomew's Hospital. A woman, who was so imprudent as to bring with her a child at the breast, was one of the number killed: whilst in the act of falling, she forced the child into the arms of the man nearest to her, requesting him, for God's sake, to save its life; but the man, finding it required all his exertions to preserve himself, threw the infant from him. It was fortunately caught at a distance by another man, who, finding it difficult to ensure its safety or his own, got rid of it in a similar way. The child was then again caught by a person, who contrived to struggle with it to a cart, under which he deposited it until the danger was over, and the mob had dispersed.

In other parts, the pressure was so great that a horrible scene of confusion ensued, and seven persons lost their lives by suffocation alone. A cart which was overloaded with spectators broke down, and some of the persons falling from the vehicle, were trampled under foot and never recovered.

During the hour for which the malefactors hung, little assistance could be afforded to the unhappy sufferers; but after the bodies were cut down, and the gallows removed to the Old Bailey yard, the marshals and constables cleared the street, and then, shocking to relate, there lay near one hundred persons dead, or in a state of insensibility, strewed round the street. Twenty-seven dead bodies were taken to St. Bartholomew's Hospital; four to St. Sepulchre's church; one to the Swan on Snow-hill, one to a public-house opposite St. Andrew's church, Holborn; one, an apprentice, to his master's, Mr. Broadwood, pianoforte maker, Golden-square; a mother was seen carrying away the body of her dead boy; and the body of Mr. Harrison, a respectable gentleman, was taken to his house at Holloway. There was a sailor-boy killed opposite Newgate by suffocation: he carried a small bag, in which he had some bread and cheese, from which it was concluded that he had come some distance to witness the execution.

After the dead, dying, and wounded, were carried away, there was a cart-load of shoes, hats, petticoats, and other articles of wearing apparel, picked up. Until four o'clock in the afternoon, most of the surrounding houses contained some persons in a wounded state, who were afterwards taken away by their friends on shutters, or in hackney-coaches. The doors of St. Bartholomew's Hospital were closed against the populace, until after the bodies of the dead were stripped and washed. They were ranged round a ward on the first floor, on the women's side, and were placed on the floor with sheets over them, and their clothes put as pillows under their heads: their faces were uncovered: and a rail was placed along the centre of the room. The persons who were admitted to see the shocking spectacle went up on one side, and returned on the other. Until two o'clock in the morning, the entrances to the hospital were beset with persons anxiously seeking for their lost relatives and friends.

Seldom had such a scene of distress and misery presented itself in this metropolis. When the gates were opened, a great concourse was admitted; and when the yard was full, the gates were again closed, until the first visitors returned from the scene of woe: as soon as any of the deceased were recognised, the body was either put into a shell or the face covered over, with the name of the party written on a paper, and pinned over the body.

The next day (Tuesday) a coroner's inquest sat in St. Bartholomew's Hospital, and other places where the bodies were, on the remains of the sufferers. Several witnesses were examined with respect to the circumstances of the accident; and on Friday, when the inquest terminated, the verdict was, "That the several persons came by their death from compression and suffocation."

GEORGE ALLEN.

EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF HIS THREE CHILDREN.

There can be little doubt that the horrid offence committed by this wretched man was prompted by insanity; and it is surprising that a jury should have found him guilty of the crime imputed to him, without declaring this to be their opinion.

It appeared on his trial, which took place at Stafford in the month of March 1807, that on the evening of the 12th of January, he retired to rest with his wife, and that in about an hour the latter was awoke by her finding her husband sitting upright in bed, smoking a pipe. In another bed in the same room lay three of his infant children asleep, the eldest boy about ten years old, the second, a girl, about six, and another boy about three, and Mrs. Allen also had an infant at her breast. On his perceiving his wife to be awake, the prisoner demanded to know "what other man she had in the house with her;" to which she answered "that there was no man there but himself." He, however, insisted to the contrary, and jumped out of bed, and ran down stairs. His wife followed him; but he returned, and meeting her on the stairs, bade her go back. He then went to the bed where his children were, and turned down the clothes. On her endeavouring to hold him, he told her "to let him alone, or he would serve her the same sauce," and immediately attempted to cut her throat, in which he partly succeeded, and also wounded her right breast; but a handkerchief she wore about her head and neck prevented the wound from being fatal. She then extricated herself (having the babe in her arms all the time, which she preserved unhurt), and jumped, or rather fell, down stairs; but before she could well rise from the ground, one of the children (the girl) fell at her feet, with its head nearly cut off, which her wretched husband had murdered and thrown after her. The woman opened the door, and screamed out "that her husband was cutting off their children's heads;" and a neighbour shortly came to her assistance; and a light having been procured, the monster was found standing in the middle of the house-place, with a razor in his hand. He was asked what he had been doing; when he replied coolly, "Nothing yet; I have only killed three of them." On their going up stairs, a most dreadful spectacle presented itself: the head of one of the boys was very nearly severed from his body, and the bellies of both were partly cut and partly ripped open, and the bowels torn completely out and thrown on the floor. Allen made no attempt to escape, and was taken without resistance. He said that it was his intention to murder his wife and all her children, and then to have put an end to himself. He also declared that he meant to have murdered an old woman who lay bed-ridden in the same house.

An inquest was subsequently held on the bodies of the three children, before Mr. Hand, coroner, of Uttoxeter, when the miserable man confessed his guilt, but without expressing any contrition. He promised also to confess something that had lain heavily on his mind; and Mr. Hand, supposing it might relate to a crime he had before committed, caused him to be examined in the presence of other gentlemen, when he told an incoherent story of a ghost, in the shape of a horse, having about four years before enticed him into a stable, where it drew blood from him, and then flew into the sky. With respect to the murder of his children, he observed to the coroner, with apparent unconcern, that he supposed "it was as bad a case as ever he heard of."

The horrid circumstances of these murders having been fully proved, he was convicted, and suffered the final sentence of the law at Stafford, March 30th 1807.

MARTHA ALDEN.

EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF HER HUSBAND.

Of the numerous instances which we have already adduced, wherein women have committed that very worst of all crimes, the murder of their husbands, perhaps no case has been attended with more malice, art, and cruelty, than that of Martha Alden.

Her trial for this offence came on at the Summer Assizes for the county of Norfolk, in the year 1807.

From the evidence adduced, it appeared that the deceased was a labouring man of rather diminutive stature, and lived with the prisoner in a small cottage near Attleburgh, in Norfolk. On the night of Saturday the 13th of July, the deceased and his wife were in company with a man named Draper at the White Horse public-house, Attleburgh, drinking together, and about ten o'clock the prisoner went away, saying she should go home. At twelve o'clock Draper conducted Alden, who was slightly intoxicated, to his own door, and left him there with the prisoner. In the morning, at about three o'clock, a man named Hill was passing the prisoner's house on his way to see a relation at about ten miles off, when the prisoner accosted him, saying that "She could not think what smart young man it was going down the common." A short conversation ensued, in which the prisoner said that "she had not returned long from the town, where she had been drinking with her husband and Draper, and that her husband had then gone, she did not know where, but that she thought he had gone to a brother of his, who lived in Essex." It was remarked by Hill, "that he knew that Alden had let himself to Mr. Parson for the harvest," to which the prisoner assented, but said that she knew he would never come back, and that if he got a job he would never settle to it. Between six and seven o'clock the prisoner was met in the road by Mr. Parson, a farmer, accompanied by a young woman named Orrice, when she said that she had lost her husband, and expressing herself very unhappy about him, declared her belief that he was either murdered or drowned, and on the following morning she was again seen by the same person, when she said that she had walked above thirty miles in search of him, but could not find him. On the Monday evening the prisoner borrowed a spade from a neighbour named Leeder, with an alleged intention of mending her hedge, which had been destroyed by pigs, which had got in and rooted up her potatoes; and one having been lent to her, she went away, and was afterwards seen at work in the ditch surrounding her garden. Up to this time no traces of her husband had been discovered; but on Tuesday night Mrs. Leeder went to a pond on the common to look for some ducks, which she had missed, and having found them, she was on her way home, when she remarked something in a large pit or pond, which lay in her path. She went to the edge of the pond, and touched the object with a stick, and it sank and rose again; but although the moon shone, she could not distinguish what it was, and she went home. Her curiosity, however, having been raised, she returned to the spot on the following morning, and then she again touched the substance with a stick, on which it turned over, and to her terror, she saw two hands appear, the arms being clothed in a shirt, which was stained with blood. The alarm was immediately given, and the body being taken out, it proved to be that of the prisoner's husband. It was covered only with an old coat, with a slop or shirt over it, and the head appeared to be dreadfully mangled. The face was much chopped, and the head nearly cut off, and other injuries were inflicted, which could not have been done by the unfortunate deceased himself. The body was immediately conveyed in a cart to the house of the prisoner, who was taken into custody. On her house being examined, the bedding and bed were found to be smeared with blood, and the walls of the bed-room bore marks of their having been spattered with the same fluid, but partly washed. Two sacks, also bloody, were discovered concealed under a peat-stack, and from a dark cupboard was produced a bill-hook with which the foul deed was evidently perpetrated, and from which the blood had been only partially removed. On the garden being searched, a species of grave was found to have been dug about forty yards from the house, and at the spot where the prisoner had been seen at work, sufficiently broad and long to receive the body of the deceased, but only about eighteen inches deep. In addition, however, to these facts, the testimony of the girl Orrice, whose name had been already mentioned, was procured.

She stated that she had been acquainted with the prisoner a good while, and had frequently been at her house. On Sunday (the 19th) the prisoner asked her to go with her to her house; and when she got there, the prisoner said to her, "I have killed my husband;" and, taking her into the bed-room, showed her the body lying on the bed, quite dead, with the wounds as before described: her account of the state and appearance of the room perfectly coincided with the descriptions of the former witnesses; she also saw a hook lying on the floor all bloody: when the hook was shown to her in court, she said it was the very same she had then seen. The prisoner then produced a common corn-sack, and, at her request, the witness held it whilst the prisoner put the body into it; the prisoner then carried the body from the bed-room, through the passage and kitchen, out of the house, across the road to the ditch surrounding the garden, and left it there, after throwing some mould over it. The witness then left the prisoner, and went to Larling; and the prisoner slept that night at the witness's father's house. On the following night, between nine and ten o'clock, the witness was again in company with the prisoner, and saw her remove the body of her husband from the ditch of the garden to the pit on the common, dragging it herself along the ground in the sack; and, when arrived at the pit, the prisoner shot the body into it out of the sack, which she afterwards carried away with her: the deceased had a shirt and slop on. The prisoner said nothing to her at the time, and she went home. The next morning (Tuesday) the witness went to the prisoner's house, and assisted in cleaning it up, taking some warm water, and washing and scraping the wall next the bed. The prisoner took up some loose straw, and told the witness she would carry and throw it into Mr. Parson's ditch, because it was bloody. The prisoner bade the witness to be sure not to say a word about the matter; for, if she did, she (the witness) would certainly be hanged. Upon being questioned to that effect by the judge, this witness further stated that she had told the story to her father on the Tuesday night, and to nobody else.

On his lordship asking the prisoner what she had to say in her defence, she told an incoherent story, which, however, as far as it was at all intelligible, seemed rather to aim at making the testimony of the last witness appear contradictory and suspicious, and to implicate her in the guilt of the transaction, than to deny the general charges which had been adduced against herself.

The learned judge then summed up the evidence in a very full and able manner, and the jury returned a verdict of Guilty.

The prisoner was immediately sentenced to death. Her behaviour subsequently was becoming the awful situation in which she was placed. She confessed the justice of her conviction, and admitted that she had murdered her husband with the bill-hook. She declared, however, that it was not the result of premeditated malice, but that her husband having threatened to beat her, the thought came into her head when he lay down to go to sleep.

She was drawn on a hurdle to the place of execution on the Castle-hill, on the 31st of July 1807, and there underwent the punishment of death pursuant to her sentence.

JOHN PALMER.

EXECUTED FOR BURGLARY.

This prisoner, although at the time of his execution he was only twenty-three years of age, was, nevertheless, an old offender, and richly merited the fate which befel him.

He was indicted at the Old Bailey sessions, in September 1808, for having, on the 8th of the same month, feloniously assaulted William Waller; and for having with a certain sharp instrument, which he held in his right hand, stabbed and cut him in and upon his head, with intent in so doing to kill and murder him. In another indictment he was charged with burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Henry Kimpton, with intent to steal, and stealing therein a pair of snuffers.

The facts which were proved in evidence were, that the house in question was situated at No. 20, Manchester-square, and that, being furnished and unoccupied, Waller was placed in it, to take care of it, by Mr. Kimpton, who was an auctioneer. On the 8th of September, at about four o'clock in the afternoon, Waller went out, having previously carefully shut up the doors and windows of the house, and he did not return until near twelve o'clock at night. He then found the house, to all appearance, undisturbed; but upon his going up to the room in which he slept, which was on the garret floor, he perceived that his bed was in disorder. He was in the act of turning round to ascertain whether any person was in the adjoining apartment, when he was suddenly seized from behind by a man, whom he presently saw was the prisoner. He cried, "Lord have mercy upon me;" but the prisoner said, "Do not speak a word; lie down on the bed, that is all you have to do;" and then pushing him, threw him on his face on his bed. At this moment a second man, whom the prisoner called Joseph, made his appearance, and Waller attempting to offer some resistance, they threatened him with instant death. He, however, continued to struggle; and having at length, extricated himself from the grasp of the prisoner, he was running towards the window to give an alarm, when he was suddenly felled to the ground by a tremendous blow on the head from an iron crowbar. He managed to rise and open the window, and cry "murder," but he was again violently assailed; but then the people below having called to him to go down and open the door, he managed to escape, and run down into the passage. He was pursued by the prisoner, whom however he missed on his reaching the ground floor; and he was employed in opening the street door, when the people without, who had been alarmed by his cries, suddenly burst it in upon him, and knocked him down. At this moment the prisoner was seen to ascend the area steps, and to jump over the gate into the street, and being seized, he declared that he belonged to the house, and that they were trying to murder the man up stairs; but Waller was by this time sufficiently recovered to recognise him, and having informed the mob, which had by this time assembled, that he was the person by whom he had been so violently attacked, he was handed over to the custody of a watchman. All search after his companion having proved fruitless, the prisoner was carried to the watch-house, and then on his being searched, a phosphorus box with matches was found in his possession, and a paper bearing the following memorandum:--"No 13, Edward-street, and a house in Harley-street; No. 30, Oxford-street, and No. 20, Manchester-square---- done." A pair of snuffers, which was proved to have been taken from Mr. Kimpton's house, was also taken from him, besides a large bunch of picklock and skeleton keys.

The prisoner, when called on for his defence, denied that he was the person who had escaped from the house, and declared that having come up with the crowd upon hearing the outcry, he had picked up the snuffers and keys, which were found upon him. He said that he had served in the navy, and had only returned seven months from the Mediterranean station, where he had been a seaman on board the Lion, Captain Rolles.

His protestations of innocence were, however, vain, and the jury returned a verdict of Guilty on both indictments.

Sentence of death was subsequently passed in the usual form; and of all those prisoners who by their crimes subjected themselves to condign punishment, and who were tried at these sessions, Palmer was the only one who was ordered for execution. In the course of the time which intervened between his conviction and the termination of his career, he gave evident proofs of his wicked disposition, and of the justice with which he was selected as the object upon whom capital punishment should be inflicted.

A few weeks before his execution he formed a plan of escape, which, had it been fully carried out, would have involved him in the additional guilt of murder. Finding it necessary to procure the aid of a fellow-prisoner, he selected a fellow who was also under sentence of death, to whom he communicated his project, and he at once consented to participate in his danger, in the hope of sharing in his success. It was arranged that the plot should be put into execution on the Sunday following. Palmer and his associate having then excused themselves from attending chapel, whither the other prisoners and the principal turnkeys would have gone, on the score of illness, they were to attack the gaoler, whose duty it would be to attend upon them, and having deprived him of life and possessed themselves of his keys, they were to make the best of their way to the outer gate. Here they were aware that they should meet with another gaoler; but having overcome him by threats or by main force, they were to secure their escape to the street, where their friends would be in attendance to receive them. In order to further their design, Palmer had already furnished himself with spring saws, to remove their irons; and rope ladders had also been provided, to be used in case of any further impediment presenting itself to them, and by which they would be able to scale the walls.

So far as its arrangement, the plot had gone on with perfect success, when Palmer's companion, being conscience-stricken at the crime which was contemplated, communicated all that had been determined on to Mr. Newman, the keeper of the prison, and proper means were in consequence taken for the security of the prisoners.

Palmer finding himself thus foiled in his object, which he had entertained sanguine hopes that he should have been able to accomplish, now proceeded to apply himself to those duties which he had hitherto neglected. As the period approached for his execution, he expressed himself anxious that the time allowed him for preparation should be prolonged; but his wish being conveyed to the Government by Mr. Sheriff Hunter, it was determined that it could not be acceded to, and the law was directed to take its course.

Wednesday, 23rd of November, 1808, having been fixed for the termination of his life, on that morning his sentence was carried out. On his way to the scaffold he was attended by Dr. Ford, the ordinary of the jail, to whom he confessed the justice of his punishment. He appeared to be perfectly resigned to his fate, and expressed a hope that his death would be an example to others. In order to atone for his own errors, he made a full confession of every robbery and burglary in which he had been concerned, and gave many particulars of the practices and haunts of thieves, which subsequently proved extremely useful to the police. When on the scaffold, he attempted to address the mob; but his speech failed him, and his eyes having been covered with a silk handkerchief at his own request, the drop fell at the usual signal, and in a few minutes he ceased to live.

THOMAS SIMMONS.

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

The offence of this miscreant was of a most horribly atrocious nature.

It appears that he was the son of poor parents, but being thought to be a likely lad, he was taken into the service of a Mr. Boreham, who lived at Hoddesden, at an early period of his life. He continued in this situation for several years; but on his reaching the age of nineteen years, he was dismissed on account of his brutal ferocity of disposition, which had displayed itself on various occasions. He had, it appears, paid his addresses to Elizabeth Harris, the servant in the house, who was many years older than he; but, by the advice of her mistress, the woman declined having anything to say to him. In consequence of this circumstance, the villain vowed vengeance against the servant and her mistress, and on the afternoon of the 20th of October, 1807, he proceeded to his late master's to satisfy his revenge in a manner most horrible and atrocious. There were at the time of his going to the house, Mr. and Mrs. Boreham and their four daughters in the building, besides a Mrs. Hummerstone and the servant, Elizabeth Harris. About a quarter past nine at night, the party sitting in the parlour was alarmed by hearing a loud noise of voices at the back part of the house, and upon listening they heard Simmons disputing with the servant, and demanding admittance. This was, however, refused, and presently afterwards the former plunged his hand, armed with a knife, through the lattice-window, and attempted to stab the girl, but without success. Mrs. Hummerstone on this went to the scullery, from which the noise proceeded, and opening the door, found that Simmons had penetrated through the farm-yard, and was within the stone-yard. On her opening the door, he suddenly rushed at her, and with his knife stabbed her in the jugular artery, and, pulling the knife forward, laid open her throat on the left side. She ran forward, as is supposed for the purpose of alarming the neighbourhood, but fell, and rose no more.

The murderer then pursued his sanguinary purpose, and rushing into the parlour, raised and brandished his bloody knife, swearing a dreadful oath, that "he would give it them all." Mrs. Warner, Mr. Boreham's eldest daughter, was the person next him; and, without allowing her time to rise from her chair, he gave her so many stabs in the jugular vein, and about her neck and breast, that she fell from her chair, covered with streams of blood, and expired. Fortunately Miss Anne Boreham had gone up stairs, directly before the commencement of this horrid business; and her sisters, Elizabeth and Sarah, terrified at the horrors they saw, ran up stairs too, for safety.

The villain immediately afterwards attacked the aged Mrs. Boreham, by a similar aim at her jugular artery, but missed the point, and wounded her deep in the neck, though not mortally. The poor old gentleman was now making his way towards the kitchen, where the servant-maid was; but the miscreant pursued him, and in endeavouring to reach the same place, overset him, and then endeavoured to stab the servant in the throat: she struggled with him, caught at the knife, and was wounded severely in the hand and arm, and the knife fell in the struggle. The girl, however, escaped from his grasp, and running into the street, by her screams and cries of "murder," she alarmed the whole neighbourhood. Several persons instantly came to her assistance, and whilst some offered their aid to the unhappy beings who had been wounded, others sought for the murderer. Their search was for some time in vain, but they at length succeeded in discovering him concealed in a cow-crib in the farm-yard. He was immediately secured, and so tightly bound to prevent his escape, that the circulation was almost stopped, and in the night death was near cheating Justice of her victim. The ligatures were, however, loosed in the morning, in ample time to preserve him to undergo the punishment to which his crimes had subjected him.

Upon the attendance of two professional men, they found that all attempts to assist Mrs. Warner and Mrs. Hummerstone would be useless, as they were already dead; and they directly turned their attention to Mrs. Boreham and the servant. Mr. Boreham was found lying on the ground with a poker by his side; but being afflicted with the palsy, and being besides very aged, he had been unable to use it in opposition to his assailant.

A coroner's inquest was subsequently held upon the bodies of the deceased persons, and a verdict of "Wilful Murder" was returned against the prisoner, upon which he was committed to Hertford Jail to await his trial. Mr. Boreham being a Quaker, he refused to prosecute in the case of Mrs. Warner; but an indictment was preferred in the case of Mrs. Hummerstone, upon which the prisoner was arraigned at the Hertford Assizes on the 4th of March, 1808. The above facts having been proved in evidence, as well as the additional circumstance of the prisoner having confessed his guilt when before the coroner, and of his having declared that his intention was to murder Mrs. Boreham, Mrs. Warner, and Elizabeth Harris the servant, a verdict of Guilty was returned.

The awful sentence of death was then pronounced upon him, and he was hanged on the 7th of March, 1808, having exhibited throughout the whole transaction the utmost coolness and indifference.

ALEXANDER CAMPBELL, ESQ.

EXECUTED FOR A MURDER COMMITTED IN A DUEL.

This is a case arising out of an absurd deference being paid to the laws of honour.

Alexander Campbell was tried at the Armagh Assizes, in Ireland, August 13, 1808, for the wilful murder of Alexander Boyd, captain in the 21st regiment, by shooting him with a pistol-bullet, on the 23rd day of June, 1807. The evidence was, that the prisoner was major, and the deceased captain of the 21st regiment of Foot; and that on the 22nd of June, after the mess-dinner, a dispute arose between them, which was terminated by the prisoner inquiring, "Do you say I am wrong?" and the deceased answering, "Yes, I do." Major Campbell then retired, and went and took tea with his family; and he afterwards sent a message to Captain Boyd upon the provocation given, in consequence of which they met. Being unattended by friends, the immediate circumstances which attended the duel were not proved in evidence; but it appears that Captain Boyd being wounded, Lieutenant Macpherson, Surgeon Price, and others were called to his assistance, in whose presence he said to the prisoner, "You have hurried me----I wanted you to wait and have friends----Campbell, you are a bad man!" He afterwards died, and upon his body being examined, it was found that he had received a pistol-shot, and that the bullet had penetrated the extremity of the four false ribs, and lodged in the cavity of the belly, which was the cause of his death. These facts having been proved, the learned judge summed up, and the prisoner was found guilty of the capital offence, but recommended to mercy by the jury, on the score of good character alone; several persons of distinction in the army having attended, and declared that he was generally of a humane, peaceable disposition.

Sentence of death was, however, immediately passed on the unfortunate gentleman, and he was ordered for execution on the Monday; but, in consequence of the recommendation of the jury, was respited till the Wednesday se'nnight.

In the mean time, every effort was made by the friends of the unfortunate man to procure the royal mercy. Mrs. Campbell, his lady, departed immediately for England to solicit in person the royal clemency; and the grand jury of the county, and the jury who had found him guilty, presented petitions to the lord-lieutenant of Dublin. Mrs. Campbell, after the most incredible fatigue and exertion, reached England, and procured her petition to be delivered into the hands of his majesty. The respite, however, expired on the 23rd of August, and an order was sent from Dublin Castle to Armagh, for the execution to take place on the 24th. The prisoner's deportment during the whole of the melancholy interval between his condemnation and the day of his execution, was manly, but penitent--such as became a Christian towards his approaching dissolution. When he was informed that all efforts to procure a pardon had failed, he was only anxious for the immediate execution of the sentence. He had repeatedly implored that he might be shot; but as this was not suitable to the forms of the common law his entreaties were of course without success.

He was led out for execution on Wednesday, the 24th of August, 1808, just as the clock struck twelve. He was attended by Dr. Bowie, and in the whole of his deportment was manifest a pious resignation and a penitent mind. A vast crowd had collected around the scene of the catastrophe: he surveyed them a moment, then turned his head towards Heaven with a look of prayer. As soon as he appeared, the whole of the attending guards, and such of the soldiery as were spectators, took off their caps; upon which the major saluted them in turn. The spectacle was truly distressing, and tears and shrieks burst from several parts of the crowd. When the executioner approached to fix the cord, Major Campbell again looked up to Heaven. There was now the most profound silence. The executioner seemed paralysed whilst performing this last act of his duty, and there was scarcely a dry eye out of so many thousands assembled: every aspect wore the trace of grief.

After hanging the usual time, the body was put into a hearse in waiting, which left the town immediately, to convey the last remains of the unfortunate gentleman to the family depository at Ayr, in Scotland. The catastrophe is rendered still more melancholy by the unhappy circumstance that Mrs. Campbell had indulged her hopes to the last, and left London exactly at such a period of time as to arrive at Ayr on the day on which her husband's corpse would necessarily have reached that place.

JOHN RYAN AND MATTHEW KEARINGE.

EXECUTED FOR ARSON AND MURDER.

The scene described by the witnesses in this case well depicts some of the horrors to which the inhabitants of the Sister Kingdom are occasionally subject.

At the Lent Clonmel Assizes for the year 1808, John Ryan and Matthew Kearinge were indicted for the murder of David Bourke; in a second count, with the murder of John Dougherty; in a third, with setting fire to the house of Laurence Bourke; and in a fourth, with maliciously firing at Laurence Bourke, with intent to kill him.

After the solicitor-general had opened the case, he called Laurence Bourke, the prosecutor, who stated that on the night of the 11th of October, between the hours of ten and eleven o'clock, he was informed by his servant that there were a number of men in arms advancing towards his house. In consequence of this information he went to the window, and saw the prisoners, with several others, all armed, surrounding his house: they desired him to open the door, but he refused; and they then fired several shots in through the different windows. There were in the house, Dougherty, the deceased, a man who was servant to the witness, and witness's wife and child; they were armed, but had no ammunition but what the guns were loaded with. The prisoners and the party finding they could not get into the house, set it on fire; and the witness heard the prisoner Ryan say, "Take it easy, boys; you will see what botlings we shall have by-and-by."--The witness's wife and child then went to the window, and called out to Ryan (who was her relation) not to burn the house; but he replied, with an oath, that he would; and a shot was fired at her, which though it did not take effect, frightened her so much, that she and her child fell out of the window. They were seized by the prisoner Kearinge; but they afterwards fortunately made their escape. The house was now falling in flames about the witness's head, and he therefore opened the door and ran out: several shots were fired at him, but he escaped them, and made his way to David Bourke's, his father's house. In his flight he fired his piece, and killed one of Ryan's party. When witness arrived at his father's house, he found that he had gone to the assistance of the witness; and on returning to the place where his house stood, in search of his father, he found that Ryan and his party were gone, and his father's corpse was lying about twelve yards from the smoking ruins of his dwelling.

Winnifred Kennedy and other witnesses were examined, who corroborated the testimony of Bourke, and proved that the deceased, John Dougherty, was burned in Bourke's house. It was also proved that the whole of Ryan's party were entertained by him at dinner that day, and they all left his house armed, for the purpose of attacking Bourke.

On the part of the prisoner Ryan, an alibi was attempted to be proved by a woman who lived with him, which entirely failed; and, after a very minute charge from the learned judge, the jury brought in a verdict of Guilty against both the prisoners. They were executed accordingly.

JAMES COOPER.

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

At the Summer Assizes at Croydon, in the year 1809, James Cooper and Mary Cooper, his mother, aged seventy-one years, were indicted for the wilful murder of Joseph Hollis, at Compton, in the county of Surrey, on the 4th May preceding. The first count in the indictment alleged the murder to have been committed by fracturing the skull of the deceased, and the second count stated the cause of death to have been a wound in the throat.

This case was of a rather singular nature, and depended on circumstances, which were proved by a number of different witnesses; and the investigation lasted nearly the whole day. The deceased was a man possessing more property than is usual with persons in his class of life. He lived in a small cottage adjoining that occupied by the prisoners, and which, with the prisoners', had been formerly but one house. It had lately been divided into two tenements, the one being occupied by the deceased, and the other by the two prisoners. There was no door of communication between the two tenements; but it was proved, that whatever passed in one could be distinctly heard in the other; and, as one of the witnesses stated, the clock could be heard to tick.

The deceased, Hollis, was an old man of near seventy, but was hale and hearty; he was of very penurious habits, and had saved money, which he was fond of displaying. One of the witnesses described him as always carrying three canvas bags, in one of which he kept notes, in another gold and silver, and in a third copper money; and if he wanted to pay only a sixpence, he would tip all the gold and silver into his hand; and the witness added, that he had seen him with 100_l._ in his possession. The whole cottage in which he lived was his property, and the prisoner, Cooper, was his tenant for the part which he occupied. Nobody lived in Cooper's part but himself and his mother: and Hollis, the deceased, lived alone; a woman of the name of Wisdom going to him daily to complete his little household arrangements.

On Wednesday, the 3rd of May, the day preceding Guildford fair, he had desired a person of the name of Goddard to go with him to the fair, as he wanted to buy some sheep; Goddard told him he could not go with him, but advised him to be early. On this he declared his intention of breakfasting and setting off the next morning by four o'clock; and having stated this to Mary Wisdom, he told her that she need not come to him on the next day. She, therefore, did not on the Thursday make her daily visit; but on the Friday, about ten, she sent her daughter, a girl about thirteen years of age. The child found the door unfastened; and, on opening it, she saw Hollis lying dead on the floor, with a great deal of blood about him. She ran out, and saw Moor, the constable, crossing the common, and he immediately returned with her. A surgeon was sent for, and several people soon came. The body was lying on the floor with the legs crossed, and the head lying on the arm, evidently composed to that attitude by the murderer after the deed. A cup of coffee, half drunk, was on the table, a piece of toast before the fire, another piece, partly eaten, lay on the hearth, the butter bason was broken, and the pat of butter was on the floor near the feet of the deceased. The chair in which he had been sitting was overturned, and his hat was lying near, so that it appeared that he had been attacked while he was sitting at his breakfast. The body was most shockingly mangled, the skull was fractured in two places, the jaw broken, a finger broken, the arms bruised, and the throat cut so as almost to sever the head from the body. Under, the body was found a clasp-knife, almost covered with blood, and a poker in a similar condition. From these circumstances it appeared that some struggle must have taken place, which the prisoners must have heard in their cottage, if the murder had been committed by any stranger.

The prisoners were, therefore, apprehended on the Friday evening, and their part of the cottage searched; but no evidence of their guilt was found. The trunk of the deceased had been rummaged; and, as only two shillings were found on his person, it was presumed that the murderer had carried off his money.

The magistrates, on examination, finding nothing but suspicion against the prisoners, discharged them; but on subsequent inquiries, they were again apprehended, and the following circumstances were given in evidence. The night before the murder the deceased and the prisoner, James Cooper, had been quarrelling; upon which the deceased declared, as Cooper had not paid his rent, he would have him out of the cottage; and he actually applied to a person to distrain upon him. In this quarrel, Cooper was heard to vow vengeance against the old man, swearing that he would be "up side" with him before a fortnight was over. Mrs. Cooper exclaimed "God forbid!" but presently she said, that it would not much matter, for that nobody liked the old man. Since the former examination of the prisoners, a more minute survey of their cottage had been taken, and concealed in the roof were found various articles of apparel, belonging to the male prisoner, which were smeared with blood. Upon subsequent inquiry, the knife and poker found in old Hollis' house were also discovered to have belonged to the Coopers, and little doubt remained therefore of their being parties to the murder.

The prisoners were eventually committed to take their trials, and while in custody Mrs. Cooper confessed that she knew of the murder, after its commission by her son, but she denied that she was in any way a party to the foul deed. She stated that her son had gone out in the evening in question, carrying the knife and poker with him, and that soon afterwards she heard a noise in old Hollis' house, followed by cries for help, and presently a heavy fall against the wainscot, but beyond this she knew nothing.

Upon this evidence the male prisoner was found guilty, but his mother was acquitted.

The unhappy young man immediately received sentence of death, and was executed on the following Monday, confessing the justice of his sentence and punishment.

JOSEPH BROWN.

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

This case affords a striking instance of the wonderful effect of the workings of the conscience of a guilty man.

Joseph Brown was indicted at the York Assizes in the month of March 1809, for the wilful murder of Elizabeth Fletcher at Hensal, near Ferry bridge, in the month of October, in the year 1804.

The offence was alleged to have been committed by the administration of poison to the deceased woman by the prisoner, and a companion named Hazlegrove, both of whom, at the time of the occurrence, lodged in her house. The evidence with regard to the transaction was, that on the Sunday, the 21st October 1804, the prisoner, Hazlegrove, Elizabeth Fletcher, the deceased, and her sister Sarah, were all sitting together at supper, between eight and nine o'clock at night, and that Hazlegrove went to fetch some ale. On his return Brown put some sugar into it, and gave it to the deceased, and she and her sister drank the whole of it, while Brown and Hazlegrove refused to partake of it, but drank some out of another mug. In the course of the night the prisoner and his companion absconded, and nothing more was heard of them until the apprehension of the prisoner in the Isle of Wight, on the 3rd of August 1808; and in the morning Mrs. Fletcher was found to be dead, and her sister suffering severely from the effects of laudanum. It was proved that Mrs. Fletcher was known to be in the possession of a considerable sum of money, and that the prisoner had expressed a wish that he had it; and that on the Saturday the 20th of October, he had purchased six-pennyworth of laudanum of Mr. Perkins, a surgeon at Snaith, to whom he represented, that it was for the use of his father, who was unable to get any sleep. The death of the deceased it could not be doubted had been produced by laudanum.

The additional evidence, by which it was proposed to bring home the offence to the prisoner, was a confession, which he had made at the Isle of Wight, in the month of August preceding his trial, when he surrendered himself into custody, as he said at the time, on account of the anguish produced in his mind, on his reflecting upon the dreadful crime of which he had been guilty. In his confession, he stated that he had been acquainted with Joseph Hazlegrove upwards of six years; that in the month of October 1804, he and Joseph Hazlegrove lodged with Mrs. Fletcher of Hensal, near Ferrybridge, and there formed the design of poisoning her, in order to possess themselves of some property they supposed her to possess; that for this purpose, he procured six-pennyworth of laudanum of a Mr. Perkins, of Snaith, which he gave to Hazlegrove, who mixed it with some beer, along with some sugar, and gave it to Elizabeth Fletcher and her sister; the former died in consequence of it, and early the following morning they broke open her box, and took out one guinea and a half, with which they absconded. The prisoner, it appeared, had been since subjected to prosecution, on account of some offence of which he had been guilty, but had been permitted to enter a foot regiment, in which he was still a soldier at the time of his trial.

On his being called on for his defence, he declared, with the most consummate impudence, that his confession was untrue; and that his only object in making that statement was, by putting himself upon his trial, to clear up the suspicions which were entertained against him. He then went on to say, that his acquaintance with Hazlegrove had subsisted from an earlier period than he had represented, down to the time of his trial; and that they had always lived upon terms of the closest intimacy. That in the early part of their friendship, a lady of high rank and fortune had become enamoured of his friend, and that many interesting meetings had taken place between them. He was generally employed as the go-between; and the secrecy which they were compelled to observe upon this subject gave an air of mystery to their conduct, which caused them to be spoken of with suspicion; and at length so far had the malignity of their enemies been excited against them, that they were accused of every offence which happened to be committed within a circuit of several miles. He concluded by repeating his declaration as to the object which he had in view, in surrendering himself into custody, suggesting that the death of Mrs. Fletcher might have been occasioned by a fit, and protesting his entire innocence of the crime imputed to him.

He declined calling any witnesses to substantiate the allegations which he made, however, and a verdict of guilty was returned.

The learned Judge then proceeded to pass sentence of death upon the prisoner, whom he addressed in the following terms:--

"Joseph Brown, I am called upon, in the painful exercise of my duty, to pass sentence upon a person found guilty of one of the greatest offences against society--the crime of deliberate murder. You stand an awful and striking example of the justice of Providence--of that punishment, which, sooner or later, never fails to overtake the guilty. You have been compelled by the agonies of remorse, and the upbraidings and tortures of a guilty mind, to furnish that evidence against yourself, which was wanting to establish the proof of your guilt, and to supply that link in the chain of evidence which appeared to be imperfect. I trust, that every one who hears of your fate will bear in mind, that a time will arrive, probably in this world, most certainly in another, when guilt will meet with its due punishment. In your unhappy case, that period is already come, when you must receive the reward of your crimes. Impelled by the hope of possessing the treasure which you supposed your unfortunate victim had saved from her hard earnings, you deliberately formed the design of destroying her; for this purpose you purchased a deadly drug, which you procured to be mingled in the cup which you offered to her under the guise of friendship. When the potion had taken effect, you plundered her of her property, though it was much less than your guilty cupidity had suggested. Your crime appeared likely to be perpetrated, as to this world, with impunity; more than four years had elapsed since its perpetration, and the remembrance of it began to fade from the recollection of every one but the guilty author of the deed, and it seemed probable, that nothing more would have been heard of it, if the consciousness of your crime, more poignant and destructive than the poisoned bowl, had not compelled you to disclose the horrid secret.--Chequered as your life has been with crimes, I cannot indulge the hope, that anything that I can say will have any lasting effect upon you; but I conjure you to spend the few remaining hours you have to live, in earnest prayer and supplication to Heaven for mercy; and may your unhappy fate convince others, that though their crimes may be committed in the darkness of the night, they will hereafter be proclaimed at noon-day."

Sentence was then passed in the usual terms, and the prisoner was executed on the 20th of March 1809.

We have no record of the manner in which he met his death.

MARY BATEMAN,

Commonly called the Yorkshire Witch.

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

The insidious arts practised by this woman rendered her a pest to the neighbourhood in which she resided, and she richly deserved that fate which eventually befel her.

She was indicted at York on the 18th of March 1809, for the wilful murder of Rebecca Perigo, of Bramley, in the same county, in the month of May in the previous year.

The examination of the witnesses, who were called to support the case for the prosecution, showed, that Mrs. Bateman resided at Leeds, and was well known at that place, as well as in the surrounding districts, as a "witch," in which capacity she had been frequently employed to work cures of "evil wishes," and all the other customary imaginary illnesses, to which the credulous lower orders at that time supposed themselves liable. Her name had become much celebrated in the neighbourhood for her successes in the arts of divining and witchcraft, and it may be readily concluded that her efforts in her own behalf were no less profitable. In the spring of 1806 Mrs. Perigo, who lived with her husband, at Bramley, a village at a short distance from Leeds, was seized with a "flacking," or fluttering in her breast, whenever she lay down, and applying to a quack doctor of the place, he assured her that it was beyond his cure, for that an "evil wish" had been laid upon her, and that the arts of sorcery must be resorted to in order to effect her relief. While in this dilemma, she was visited by her niece, a girl named Stead, who at that time filled a situation as a household servant at Leeds, and who had taken advantage of the Whitsuntide holidays to go round to see her friends. Stead expressed her sorrow to find her aunt in so terrible a situation, and recommended an immediate appeal to the prisoner, whose powers she described as fully equal to get rid of any affection of the kind, whether produced by mortal or diabolical charms. An application was at once determined on to her, and Stead was employed to broach the subject to the diviner. She, in consequence, paid the prisoner a visit at her house in Black Dog Yard, near the bank, at Leeds, and having acquainted her with the nature of the malady by which her aunt was affected, was informed by her, that she knew a lady, who lived at Scarborough, and that if a flannel petticoat or some article of dress, which was worn next the skin of the patient, was sent to her, she would at once communicate with her upon the subject. On the following Tuesday William Perigo, the husband of the deceased, proceeded to her house, and having handed over his wife's flannel petticoat, the prisoner said that she would write to Miss Blythe, who was the lady to whom she had alluded, at Scarborough, by the same night's post, and that an answer would doubtless be returned by that day week, when he was to call again. On the day mentioned, Perigo was true to his appointment, and the prisoner produced to him a letter, saying that it had arrived from Miss Blythe, and that it contained directions as to what was to be done. After a great deal of circumlocution and mystery the letter was opened, and was read by the prisoner, and it was found that it contained an order "that Mary Bateman should go to Perigo's house, at Bramley, and should take with her four guinea notes, which were enclosed, and that she should sew them into the four corners of the bed, in which the diseased woman slept, where they were to remain for eighteen months; that Perigo was to give her four other notes of like value, to be returned to Scarborough; and that unless all these directions were strictly attended to, the charm would be useless and would not work." On the fourth of August the prisoner went over to Bramley, and having shown the four notes, proceeded apparently to sew them up in silken bags, which she delivered over to Mrs. Perigo to be placed in the bed. The four notes desired to be returned were then handed to her by Perigo, and she retired, directing her dupes frequently to send to her house, as letters might be expected from Miss Blythe. In about a fortnight, another letter was produced; and it contained directions, that two pieces of iron in the form of horse-shoes should be nailed up at Perigo's door, by the prisoner, but that the nails should not be driven in with a hammer, but with the back of a pair of pincers, and that the pincers were to be sent to Scarborough, to remain in the custody of Miss Blythe for the eighteen months already mentioned in the charm. The prisoner accordingly again visited Bramley, and having nailed up the horse-shoes received and carried off the pincers. In October the following letter was received by Perigo, bearing the signature of the supposed Miss Blythe.

"My dear Friend.--You must go down to Mary Bateman's, at Leeds, on Tuesday next, and carry two guinea notes with you and give her them, and she will give you other two that I have sent to her from Scarborough; and you must buy me a small cheese about six or eight pound weight, and it must be of your buying, for it is for a particular use, and it is to be carried down to Mary Bateman's, and she will send it to me by the coach.--This letter is to be burned when you have done reading it."

From this time to the month of March 1807, a great number of letters were received, demanding the transmission of various articles, to Miss Blythe, through the medium of the prisoner, the whole of which were to be preserved by her until the expiration of the eighteen months; and in the course of the same period money to the amount of near seventy pounds was paid over, Perigo, upon each occasion of payment, receiving silk bags containing what were pretended to be coins or notes of corresponding value, which were to be sewn up in the bed as before. In March 1807, the following letter arrived.

"My dear Friends.--I will be obliged to you if you will let me have half-a-dozen of your china, three silver spoons, half-a-pound of tea, two pounds of loaf sugar, and a tea canister to put the tea in, or else it will not do--I durst not drink out of my own china. You must burn this with a candle."

The china, &c., not having been sent, in the month of April Miss Blythe wrote as follows:--

"My dear Friends.--I will be obliged to you if you will buy me a camp bedstead, bed and bedding, a blanket, a pair of sheets, and a long bolster must come from your house.--You need not buy the best feathers, common ones will do. I have laid on the floor for three nights, and I cannot lay on my own bed owing to the planets being so bad concerning your wife, and I must have one of your buying or it will not do.--You must bring down the china, the sugar, the caddy, the three silver spoons, and the tea at the same time when you buy the bed, and pack them up altogether.--My brother's boat will be up in a day or two, and I will order my brother's boatman to call for them all at Mary Bateman's, and you must give Mary Bateman one shilling for the boatman, and I will place it to your account. Your wife must burn this as soon as it is read or it will not do."

This had the desired effect; and the prisoner having called upon the Perigos, she accompanied them to the shops of a Mr. Dobbin, and a Mr. Musgrave, at Leeds, to purchase the various articles named, which were eventually bought at a cost of sixteen pounds, and sent to Mr. Sutton's, at the Lion and Lamb Inn, Kirkgate, there to await the arrival of the supposed messenger.

At the end of April, the following letter arrived:--"My dear Friends.--I am sorry to tell you you will take an illness in the month of May next, one or both of you, but I think both, but the works of God must have its course.--You will escape the chambers of the grave; though you seem to be dead, yet you will live. Your wife must take half-a-pound of honey down from Bramley to Mary Bateman's at Leeds, and it must remain there till you go down yourself, and she will put in such like stuff as I have sent from Scarbro' to her, and she will put it in when you come down, and see her yourself, or it will not do. You must eat pudding for six days, and you must put in such like stuff as I have sent to Mary Bateman from Scarbro', and she will give your wife it, but you must not begin to eat of this pudding while I let you know. If ever you find yourself sickly at any time, you must take each of you a teaspoonful of this honey; I will remit twenty pounds to you on the 20th day of May, and it will pay a little of what you owe. You must bring this down to Mary Bateman's, and burn it at her house, when you come down next time."

The instructions contained in this letter were complied with, and the prisoner having first mixed a white powder in the honey, handed over six others of the same colour and description to Mrs. Perigo, saying that they must be used in the precise manner mentioned upon them, or they would all be killed. On the 5th of May, another letter arrived in the following terms:--

"My dear Friends.--You must begin to eat pudding on the 11th of May, and you must put one of the powders in every day as they are marked, for six days--and you must see it put in yourself every day or else it will not do. If you find yourself sickly at any time you must not have no doctor, for it will not do, and you must not let the boy that used to eat with you eat of that pudding for six days; and you must make only just as much as you can eat yourselves, if there is any left it will not do. You must keep the door fast as much as possible or you will be overcome by some enemy. Now think on and take my directions or else it will kill us all. About the 25th of May I will come to Leeds and send for your wife to Mary Bateman's; your wife will take me by the hand and say, 'God bless you that I ever found you out.' It has pleased God to send me into the world that I might destroy the works of darkness; I call them the works of darkness because they are dark to you--now mind what I say whatever you do. This letter must be burned in straw on the hearth by your wife."

The absurd credulity of Mr. and Mrs. Perigo even yet favoured the horrid designs of the prisoner; and, in obedience to the directions which they received, they began to eat the puddings on the day named. For five days, they had no particular flavour, but upon the sixth powder being mixed, the pudding was found so nauseous, that the former could only eat one or two mouthfuls, while his wife managed to swallow three or four. They were both directly seized with violent vomiting, and Mrs. Perigo, whose faith appears to have been greater than that of her husband, at once had recourse to the honey. Their sickness continued during the whole day, but although Mrs. Perigo suffered the most intense torments, she positively refused to hear of a doctor's being sent for, lest, as she said, the charm should be broken, by Miss Blythe's directions being opposed. The recovery of the husband from the illness, by which he was affected, slowly progressed; but the wife, who persisted in eating the honey, continued daily to lose strength, and at length expired on the 24th of May, her last words being a request to her husband not to be "rash" with Mary Bateman, but to await the coming of the appointed time.

Mr. Chorley, a surgeon, was subsequently called in to see her body; but although he expressed his firm belief that the death of the deceased was caused by her having taken poison, and although that impression was confirmed by the circumstance of a cat dying immediately after it had eaten some of the pudding, no further steps were taken to ascertain the real cause of death, and Perigo even subsequently continued in communication with the prisoner.

Upon his informing her of the death of his wife, she at once declared that it was attributable to her having eaten all the honey at once, and then in the beginning of June, he received the following letter from Miss Blythe:--

"My dear Friend.--I am sorry to tell you that your wife should touch of those things which I ordered her not, and for that reason it has caused her death; it had likened to have killed me at Scarborough, and Mary Bateman at Leeds, and you and all, and for this reason, she will rise from the grave, she will stroke your face with her right hand, and you will lose the use of one side, but I will pray for you.--I would not have you to go to no doctor, for it will not do. I would have you to eat and drink what you like, and you will be better. Now, my dear friend, take my directions, do and it will be better for you.--Pray God bless you. Amen. Amen. You must burn this letter immediately after it is read."

Letters were also subsequently received by him, purporting to be from the same person, in which new demands for clothing, coals, and other articles were made, but at length, in the month of October 1808, two years having elapsed since the commencement of the charm, he thought that, the time had fully arrived, when, if any good effects were to be produced from it, they would have been apparent, and that therefore he was entitled to look for his money in the bed. He, in consequence, commenced a search for the little silk bags, in which his notes and money had been, as he supposed, sewn up; but although the bags indeed were in precisely the same positions in which they had been placed by his deceased wife, by some unaccountable conjuration, the notes and gold had turned to rotten cabbage-leaves and bad farthings. The darkness, by which the truth had been so long obscured, now passed away, and having communicated with the prisoner, by a stratagem, meeting her under pretence of receiving from her a bottle of medicine, which was to cure him from the effects of the puddings which still remained, he caused her to be apprehended. Upon her house being searched, nearly all the property sent to the supposed Miss Blythe was found in her possession, and a bottle containing a liquid mixed with two powders, one of which proved to be oatmeal, and the other arsenic, was taken from her pocket when she was taken into custody.

The rest of the evidence against the prisoner went to show that there was no such person as Miss Blythe living at Scarborough, and that all the letters which had been received by Perigo were in her own handwriting, and had been sent by her to Scarborough to be transmitted back again. An attempt was also proved to have been made by her to purchase some arsenic, at the shop of a Mr. Clough, in Kirkgate, in the month of April 1807, but the most important testimony was that of Mr. Chorley, the surgeon, who distinctly proved that he had analysed what remained of the pudding, and of the contents of the honey pot, and that he found them both to contain a deadly poison, called corrosive sublimate of mercury, and that the symptoms exhibited by the deceased and her husband were such as would have arisen from the administration of such a drug.

The prisoner's defence consisted of a simple denial of the charge, and the learned judge then proceeded to address the jury. Having stated the nature of the allegations made in the indictment, he said that in order to come to a conclusion as to the guilt of the prisoner, it was necessary that three points should be clearly made out. 1st. That the deceased died of poison. 2nd. That that poison was administered by the contrivance and knowledge of the prisoner. And 3rd. That it was so done for the purpose of occasioning the death of the deceased. A large body of evidence had been laid before them, to prove that the prisoner had engaged in schemes of fraud against the deceased and her husband, which was proved not merely by the evidence of Wm. Perigo, but by the testimony of other witnesses; and the inference the prosecutors drew from this fraud was the existence of a powerful motive or temptation to commit a still greater crime, for the purpose of escaping the shame and punishment which must have attended the detection of the fraud; a fraud so gross, that it excited his surprise that any individual in that age and nation could be the dupe of it. But the jury should not go beyond this inference, and presume that, because the prisoner had been guilty of fraud, she was of course likely to have committed the crime of murder; that, if proved, must be shown by other evidence. His Lordship then proceeded to recapitulate the whole of the evidence, as detailed in the preceding pages, and concluded with the following observations. "It is impossible not to be struck with wonder at the extraordinary credulity of Wm. Perigo, which neither the loss of his property, the death of his wife, and his own severe sufferings, could dispel; and it was not until the month of October in the following year, that he ventured to open his hid treasure, and found there what every one in court must have anticipated that he would find, not a single vestige of his property; and his evidence is laid before the jury with the observation which arises from this uncommon want of judgment. His memory however appears to be very retentive, and his evidence is confirmed, and that in different parts of the narrative, by other witnesses; and many parts of the case do not rest upon his evidence at all. The illness, and peculiar symptoms, which preceded the death of his wife; his own severe sickness; and a variety of other circumstances attending the experiments made upon the pudding, were proved by separate and independent testimony; and it is most strange, that, in a case of so much suspicion as it appeared to have excited at the time, the interment of the body should have taken place without any inquiry as to the cause of death, an inquiry which then would have been much less difficult; though the fact of the deceased having died of poison is now well established. The main question is, did the prisoner contrive the means to induce the deceased to take it?--if she did so contrive the means, the intent could only be to destroy.--Poison so deadly could not be administered with any other view. The jury will lay all the facts and circumstances together; and if they feel them press so strongly against the prisoner, as to induce a conviction of the prisoner's having procured the deceased to take poison, with an intent to occasion her death, they will find her guilty; if they do not think the evidence conclusive, they will, in that case, find the prisoner not guilty."

The jury, after conferring for a moment, found the prisoner guilty;--and the judge proceeded to pass sentence of death upon her, in nearly the following words:--

"Mary Bateman, you have been convicted of wilful murder by a jury, who, after having examined your case with caution, have, constrained by the force of evidence, pronounced you guilty; and it only remains for me to fulfil my painful duty by passing upon you the awful sentence of the law. After you have been so long in the situation in which you now stand, and harassed as your mind must be by the long detail of your crimes, and by listening to the sufferings you have occasioned, I do not wish to add to your distress by saying more than my duty renders necessary. Of your guilt, there cannot remain a particle of doubt in the breast of any one who has heard your case.--You entered into a long and premeditated system of fraud, which you carried on for a length of time, which is most astonishing, and by means which one would have supposed could not, in this age and nation, have been practised with success. To prevent a discovery of your complicated fraud, and the punishment which must have resulted therefrom, you deliberately contrived the death of the persons you had so grossly injured, and that by means of poison, a mode of destruction against which there is no sure protection; but your guilty design was not fully accomplished.--And, after so extraordinary a lapse of time, you are reserved as a signal example of the justice of that mysterious Providence, which, sooner or later, overtakes guilt like yours; and at the very time when you were apprehended, there is the greatest reason to suppose, that if your surviving victim had met you alone, as you wished him to do, you would have administered to him a more deadly dose, which would have completed the diabolical project you had long before formed, but which at that time only partially succeeded; for upon your person, at that moment, was found a phial containing a most deadly poison. For crimes like yours, in this world, the gates of mercy are closed. You afforded your victim no time for preparation; but the law, while it dooms you to death, has, in its mercy, afforded you time for repentance, and the assistance of pious and devout men, whose admonitions, and prayers, and counsels, may assist to prepare you for another world, where even your crimes, if sincerely repented of, may find mercy.

"The sentence of the law is, and the court doth award it. That you be taken to the place from whence you came, and from thence, on Monday next, to the place of execution, there to be hanged by the neck until you are dead; and that your body be given to the surgeons to be dissected and anatomised; and may Almighty God have mercy upon your soul."

The prisoner having intimated that she was pregnant, the clerk of the arraigns said, "Mary Bateman, what have you to say, why immediate execution should not be awarded against you?" On which the prisoner pleaded that she was twenty-two weeks gone with child. On this plea the judge ordered the sheriff to impannel a jury of matrons; this order created a general consternation among the ladies, who hastened to quit the court, to prevent the execution of so painful an office being imposed upon them. His lordship, in consequence, ordered the doors to be closed, and in about half-an-hour, twelve married women being impannelled, they were sworn in court, and charged to inquire "whether the prisoner was with quick child?" The jury of matrons then retired with the prisoner, and on their return into court delivered their verdict, which was, that Mary Bateman is not with quick child. The execution of course was not respited, and she was remanded back to prison.

During the brief interval between her receiving sentence of death and her execution, the ordinary, the Rev. George Brown, took great pains to prevail upon her ingenuously to acknowledge and confess her crimes. Though the prisoner behaved with decorum, during the few hours that remained of her existence, and readily joined in the customary offices of devotion, no traits of that deep compunction of mind, which, for crimes like hers, must be felt where repentance is sincere, could be observed; but she maintained her caution and mystery to the last. On the day preceding her execution, she wrote a letter to her husband, in which she enclosed her wedding-ring, with a request that it might be given to her daughter. She admitted that she had been guilty of many frauds, but still denied that she had had any intention to produce the death of Mr. or Mrs. Perigo.

Upon the Monday morning at five o'clock she was called from her cell, to undergo the last sentence of the law. She received the communion with some other prisoners, who were about to be executed on the same day, but all attempts to induce her to acknowledge the justice of her sentence, or the crime of which she had been found guilty, proved vain. She maintained the greatest firmness in her demeanour to the last, which was in no wise interrupted even upon her taking leave of her infant child, which lay sleeping in her cell, at the moment of her being called out to the scaffold.

Upon the appearance of the convict upon the platform, the deepest silence prevailed amongst the immense assemblage of persons, which had been collected to witness the execution. As a final duty, the Rev. Mr. Brown, immediately before the drop fell, again exhorted the unhappy woman to confession, but her only reply was a repetition of the declaration of her innocence, and the next moment terminated her existence.

Her body having remained suspended during the usual time, was cut down, and sent to the General Infirmary at Leeds to be anatomised. Immense crowds of persons assembled to meet the hearse, in which it was carried; and so great was the desire of the people to see her remains, that 30_l._ were collected for the use of the infirmary, by the payment of 3_d._ for each person admitted to the apartment in which they were exposed.

A short sketch of the life of this remarkable woman, and a few anecdotes of her proceedings, shall conclude this article. Mary Bateman, it appears, was born of reputable parents at Aisenby, near Thirsk, in the North-riding of Yorkshire, in the year 1768: her father, whose name was Harker, carrying on business as a small farmer. As early as at the age of five years, she exhibited much of that sly knavery, which subsequently so extraordinarily distinguished her character; and many were the frauds and falsehoods, of which she was guilty, and for which she was punished. In the year 1780, she first quitted her father's house, to undertake the duties of a servant in Thirsk, but having been guilty of some peccadilloes, she proceeded to York in 1787; but before she had been in that city more than twelve months, she was detected in pilfering some trifling articles of property belonging to her mistress, and was compelled to run off to Leeds, without waiting either for her wages or her clothes. For a considerable time she remained without employment or friends, but at length upon the recommendation of an acquaintance of her father, she obtained an engagement in the shop of a mantua-maker, in whose service she remained for more than three years. She then became acquainted with John Bateman, to whom after a three weeks' courtship she was married in the year 1792.

Within two months after her marriage, she was found to have been guilty of many frauds, and she only escaped prosecution by inducing her husband to move frequently from place to place, so as to escape apprehension; and at length poor Bateman, driven almost wild by the tricks of his wife, entered the supplementary militia. Mrs. Bateman was now entirely thrown upon her own resources, and unable to follow any reputable trade, she in the year 1799 took up her residence in Marsh Lane, near Timble Bridge, Leeds, and proceeded to deal in fortune-telling and the sale of charms. From a long course of iniquity, carried on chiefly through the medium of the most wily arts, she had acquired a manner, and a mode of speech peculiarly adapted to her new profession; and abundance of credulous victims, upon whom she was able to prosecute her schemes, daily presented themselves to her.

Her first daring attempt was upon a Mrs. Greenwood, whom she persuaded that her husband was in a situation of the greatest peril, which would be aggravated by the circumstance being mentioned to him; that he was in danger of being accused of a crime, for which he would be instantly sacrificed, and that so relentless and determined were his prosecutors, that unless four pieces of gold, four pieces of leather, four pieces of blotting-paper, and four brass screws were given to her, to "screw them down," he would be dead before the morning. Mrs. Greenwood, unfortunately for the trick, was not possessed of even one piece of gold, and the proposition of the "witch," that she should steal what she wanted, so startled her, that she had fortitude enough to emancipate herself from the trammels which had been thrown round her.

Her next attempt was upon a poor woman named Stead, upon whose jealous fears she worked so far, as to obtain from her nearly the whole of her furniture, under pretence of "screwing down," a woman, with whom she represented that her husband was intimate. Stead was about to enter the army; and Mrs. Bateman next easily found means to persuade him, as she had persuaded his wife, of her powers, and she obtained from him all the little money, which he had obtained as his bounty, under the pretence of "screwing down" his officers to give him promotion. The fascinating and all powerful Miss Blythe had not yet been discovered, but all her operations were now performed through the medium of a Mrs. Moore, whose existence, it may readily be supposed, was as doubtful as that of her subsequent coadjutor.

Terror was the great engine by which this woman carried on her frauds, and as the wife of Stead had still a few articles of furniture and clothing--the last sad wreck of their property, she persuaded her if something was not done to prevent it, her daughter who was then only about eight years of age, would, when she attained the age of fourteen, become pregnant of an illegitimate child, and that either she would murder herself, or would be murdered by her seducer, to prevent which, 17_s._ was to be placed in Mary Bateman's hands. This money she was to hand over to the invisible Mrs. Moore, who was to reduce the coin to a "silver charm," which charm was to be worn round the girl's arm till the period of danger was past, but which, when the bubble burst three months after, was cut from the child's arm, when by a strange transmutation of metal, the silver had turned to pewter.

In the midst of these scenes of fraud in one party, and weakness in the other, a relation of Stead's came over to Leeds in a state of pregnancy, and forsaken by her lover. This young woman was a fine subject for the artful Mary Bateman, who soon learned her misfortune, and undertook, on condition that a guinea was given to her, for Mrs. Moore, to make the lover marry her. The money was paid, but no lover appeared. It was then found out that he was too strong for the first charm, and that more money and more screws would be necessary to screw him down to the altar of Hymen. Still he came not; and the girl finding the money she had fast diminishing, procured a service in a respectable family in Leeds, the master of which being a bachelor, Mary soon contrived to persuade the silly girl that she could by her arts oblige him to marry her. Here a difficulty arose--the unborn child was in the way; but Mary, ever ready to undertake any business, however desperate, engaged to remove the impediment, and for that purpose administered certain medicines to the ill-fated young woman, which produced the desired effect, and abortion ensued. The master after all was not to be caught; but the girl's former sweetheart coming over to Leeds married her, though she was, at that time, owing as is supposed to the medicine given to her by Mary Bateman, in a very emaciated state. In speaking of her connexion with this vile woman, she used the following remarkable expression:--"Had I never known Mary Bateman, my child would now have been in my arms, and I should have been a healthy woman--but it is in eternity, and I am going after it as fast as time and a ruined constitution can carry me." The unhappy girl died soon after, a melancholy instance of the direful effects which too great credulity and weakness of mind may produce.

The artifices and frauds of which she had been hitherto guilty, however, shrink into comparative obscurity, when opposed with the offences which Mrs. Bateman subsequently committed. The case of the unhappy Mrs. Perigo has been already mentioned, and its circumstances detailed, but there is too much reason to believe that she was concerned in producing the death of three persons, a crime of still greater and more cold-blooded cruelty. The Misses Kitchen were quaker ladies, who carried on the business of linen-drapers, near St. Peter's Square, Leeds, and Mrs. Bateman, by representations of her skill in divination, and reading the stars, managed so far to ingratiate herself into their good graces as to become their confidant and most intimate adviser. She attended their shop, was a constant visitor at their house, and her interference extended even to the domestic concerns of the family. In the month of September, 1803, the younger Miss Kitchen was attacked with a severe and painful illness, and Bateman possessing the full confidence of the family procured medicines from a person whom she described as a country doctor, but instead of their producing any improvement in the condition of the unhappy patient, in less than a week she died. Her mother arrived from Wakefield, where she lived, in time only to receive the last breath of her daughter, but in two days, she, as well as the surviving sister, died, and they were all three placed in the same grave. Throughout the whole of these distressing illnesses Mary Bateman was the sole attendant upon the unhappy women, and after their death she took upon herself the task of rendering them those last melancholy offices, which are usually the duty of the near relations of the deceased. No person was permitted by her to enter the house, under pretence that the deceased persons had been affected by the plague, except those, whose presence was rendered necessary in order to the performance of the rites of sepulture; and for many weeks the neighbourhood was shunned, lest the supposed infection might spread. Mrs. Bateman, however, in the midst of all, exhibited the most praiseworthy and disinterested affection for the poor ladies, and in the face of all danger, hesitated not to minister to their wants, and even after death to take those precautions, in fumigating the house, which were supposed to be necessary. She prepared their meals, and by her hands alone were the medicines administered, which she professed to have been prescribed. Several months had elapsed before any inquiries were made as to the condition in which the deceased persons had died, and then some of their creditors having determined to ascertain what property they had left behind them, entered the house. To their surprise they discovered that of the furniture and stock, of which the deceased had been known to be possessed, scarce a vestige remained; and the discovery of some articles of property in the house of Bateman, which were known to have belonged to the deceased ladies, but which the former declared had been given to her by them, afforded grounds for a well-founded suspicion that poison was the "plague" of which they had died, although under the circumstances of the case, and after the lapse of so long a time, evidence could not be obtained which could be deemed conclusive upon the subject. The determined cruelty exercised in the case of the Perigos appeared to sanction the suspicions which were entertained, and after conviction Mrs. Bateman was minutely questioned upon the subject, but all efforts to induce a confession of this crime, or of that of which she was found guilty, proved unavailing.

It would be useless to follow this wretched woman through the subsequent scenes of her miserable life. Fraud and deceit were the only means, by which she was able to carry on the war, and numerous were the impudent and heartless schemes which she put into operation to dupe the unhappy objects of her attacks. Her character was such as to prevent her long pursuing her occupation in one position, and she was repeatedly compelled to change her abode until she at length took up her residence in Black Dog Lane, where she was apprehended. Her husband at this time had returned from the militia several years, and although he followed the trade to which he had been brought up, there can be little doubt that he shared the proceeds of his wife's villanies.

Mary Bateman was neat in her person and dress, and though there was nothing ingenuous in her countenance, it had an air of placidity and composure, not ill adapted to make a favourable impression on those who visited her. Her manner of address was soft and insinuating, with the affectation of sanctity. In her domestic arrangements she was regular, and was mistress of such qualifications in housewifery as, with an honest heart, would have enabled her to fill her station with respectability and usefulness.

A few anecdotes upon the subject of the belief in witchcraft, in former days, we trust will not prove uninteresting to our readers.

The reign of James the Sixth of Scotland, and First of England, may be said to have been the witchcraft age of Great Britain. Scotland had always been a sort of fairy land; but it remained for that sagacious prince, at a time when knowledge was beginning to dispel the mists of superstition, to contribute, by his authority and writings, to resolve a prejudice of education into an article of religious belief amongst the Scottish people. He wrote and published a "Treatise on Dæmonologie;" the purpose of which was, to "resolve the doubting hearts of many, as to the fearful abounding of those detestable slaves of the Devil, witches, or enchanters." The authority of Scripture was perverted, to show, not only the possibility, but certainty, that such "detestable scenes" do exist; and many most ridiculous stories of evil enchantment were added, to establish their "fearful abounding." The treatise, which is in the form of a dialogue, treats also of the punishment which such crimes deserve; concluding, that

"no sex, age, nor rank, should be excused from the punishment of death, according to the law of God, the civil and imperial law, and the municipal law of all Christian nations." In answer to the question, "What to judge of deathe, I pray you?" The answer is, "It is commonlie used by fyre, but there is an indifferent thing to be used in every country, according to the law or custume thereof."

Such, in fact, was the cruel and barbarous law of James's native country; and such became the law also of England, when he succeeded to the sceptre of Elizabeth. Many hundreds of unfortunate creatures, in both countries, became its victims, suffering death ignominiously, for an impossible offence: neither sex, nor age, nor rank, as James had sternly enjoined, was spared; and it was the most helpless and inoffensive, such as aged and lone women, who were most exposed to its malignant operation.

There were persons regularly employed in hunting out, and bringing to punishment, those unfortunate beings suspected of witchcraft.

Matthew Hopkins resided at Manningtree, in Essex, and was witch-finder for the associated counties of Essex, Suffolk, Norfolk, and Huntingdonshire. In the years 1644, 1645, and 1646, accompanied by one John Stern, he brought many to the fatal tree as reputed witches. He hanged, in one year, no less than sixty reputed witches of his own county of Essex. The old, the ignorant, and the indigent, such as could neither plead their own cause nor hire an advocate, were the miserable victims of this wretch's credulity, spleen, and avarice. He pretended to be a great critic in special marks, which were only moles, scorbutic spots, or warts, that frequently grow large and pendulous in old age; but were absurdly supposed to be teats to suckle imps. His ultimate method of proof was by tying together the thumbs and toes of the suspected person, about whose waist was fastened a cord, the ends of which were held on the banks of the river by two men, in whose power it was to strain or slacken it. Swimming, upon this experiment, was deemed a sufficient proof of guilt; for which king James (who is said to have recommended, if he did not invent it) assigned a ridiculous reason, that, "as some persons had renounced their baptism by water, so the water refuses to receive them." Sometimes those who were accused of diabolical practices, were tied neck and heels, and tossed into a pond: if they floated or swam, they were consequently guilty, and were therefore taken out and burned; but if they were innocent, they were only drowned. The experiment of swimming was at length tried upon Hopkins himself, in his own way, and he was upon the event condemned, and, as it seems, executed as a wizard. In a letter from Serjeant Widrinton to Lord Whitelocke, mention is made of another fellow of the same profession as Hopkins. This fellow received twenty shillings a-head for every witch he discovered, and thereby obtained rewards amounting to thirty pounds.

In an old print of this execrable character, he is represented with two witches. One of them, named Holt, is supposed to say, "My Impes are, 1. Ilemauzyr; 2. Pyewackett; 3. Pecke in the Crown; 4. Griezell Griediegutt." Four animals attend: Jarmara, a black dog; Sacke and Sugar, a hare; Newes, a ferret; Vinegar Tom, a bull-headed greyhound. This print is in the Pepysian library.

Amongst a number of women (as many as sixteen) whom Hopkins, in the year 1644, accused at Yarmouth, was one, of whom the following account is given. It appears that she used to work for Mr. Moulton (a stocking merchant, and alderman of the town), and upon a certain day went to his house for work; but he being from home, his man refused to let her have any till his master returned; whereupon, being exasperated against the man, she applied herself to the maid, and desired some knitting-work of her; and when she returned the like answer, she went home in great discontent against them both. That night, when she was in bed, she heard a knock at her door, and going to her window, she saw (it being moon-light) a tall black man there: and asked what he would have? He told her that she was discontented, because she could not get work; and that he would put her into a way that she should never want anything. On this, she let him in, and asked him what he had to say to her? He told her he must first see her hands; and taking out something like a penknife, he gave it a little scratch, so that a little blood followed, a scar being still visible when she told the story; then he took some of the blood in a pen, and pulling a book out of his pocket, bid her write her name; and when she said she could not, he said he would guide her hand. When this was done, he bid her now ask what she would have. And when she desired first to be revenged on the man, he promised to give her an account of it next night, and so leaving her some money went away. The next night he came to her again, and told her he could do nothing against the man, for he went constantly to church, and said his prayers morning and evening. Then she desired him to revenge her on the maid; and he again promised her an account thereof the next night: but he said the same of the maid, and that therefore he could not hurt her. But she said that there was a young child in the house, which was more easy to be dealt with. Whereupon she desired him to do what he could against it. The next night he came again, and brought with him an image of wax, and told her they must go and bury that in the church-yard, and then the child, which he had put in great pain already, should waste away as that image wasted. Whereupon they went together and buried it. The child having laid in a languishing condition for about eighteen months, and being very near death, the minister sent this woman with this account to the magistrates, who thereupon sent her to Mr. Moulton's, where, in the same room that the child lay, almost dead, she was examined concerning the particulars aforesaid; all which she confessed, and had no sooner done, but the child, who was three years old, and was thought to be dead or dying, laughed, and began to stir and raise up itself: and from that instant began to recover. The woman was convicted upon her own confession, and was executed accordingly.

A more melancholy tale does not occur in the annals of necromancy, than that of the Lancashire Witches, in 1612. The scene of the story is in Penderbury Forest, four or five miles from Manchester, remarkable for its picturesque and gloomy situation. It had long been of ill repute, as a consecrated haunt of diabolical intercourse, when a country magistrate, Roger Nowel by name, took it into his head that he should perform a great public service by routing out a nest of witches, who had rendered the place a terror to all the neighbouring vulgar. The first persons he seized on, were Elizabeth Demdike and Ann Chattox. The former was eighty years of age, and had for some years been blind, and principally subsisted by begging, though she had a miserable hovel on the spot, which she called her own. Anne Chattox was of the same age, and had for some time been threatened with the calamity of blindness. Demdike was held to be so hardened a witch that she had trained all her family to the mystery: namely, Elizabeth Device, her daughter, and James and Alison Device, her great-grandchildren. These, together with John Balcock, and Jane his mother, Alice Natter, Catherine Hewitt, and Isabel Roby, were successively apprehended by the diligence of Nowel, and one or two neighbouring magistrates, and were all of them by some means induced, some to make a more liberal, and others a more restricted confession of their misdeeds in witchcraft, and were afterwards hurried away to Lancaster Castle, fifty miles off, to prison. Their crimes were said to have universally proceeded from malignity and resentment; and it was reported to have repeatedly happened for poor old Demdike to be led by night from her habitation into the open air, by some member of her family, where she was left alone for an hour to curse her victim, and pursue her unholy incantations, and was then sought and brought back again to her hovel, her curses never failing to produce the desired effect.

The poor wretches had been but a short time in prison, when information was given that a meeting of witches was held on Good-Friday, at Malkin's Tower, the habitation of Elizabeth Device, to the number of twenty persons, to consult how, by infernal machinations, to kill one Lovel, an officer, to blow up Lancaster Castle, deliver the prisoners, and to kill another man, of the name of Lister. The last object was effected; the other plans, by some means, which are not related, were prevented.

The prisoners were kept in jail till the summer assizes; but in the mean time, the poor blind Demdike died in confinement.

The other prisoners were severally indicted for killing by witchcraft certain persons who were named, and were all found guilty. The principal witnesses against Elizabeth Device were James Device and Jennet Device, her grandchildren, the latter only nine years of age. When this girl was put into the witness-box, the grandmother, on seeing her, set up so dreadful a yell, intermixed with dreadful curses, that the child declared that she could not go on with her evidence, unless the prisoner was removed. This was agreed to, and both brother and sister swore that they had been present, when the Devil came to their grandmother, in the shape of a black dog, and asked her what she desired. She said the death of John Robinson; when the dog told her to make an image of Robinson in clay, and after crumble it into dust, and as fast as the image perished, the life of the victim should waste away, and in conclusion the man should die. This testimony was received; and upon the conviction, which followed, ten persons were led to the gallows, on the twentieth of August, Anne Chattox, of eighty years of age, among the rest, the day after the trials, which lasted two days, were finished.

The judges who presided on these trials were Sir James Altham and Sir Edward Bromley, barons of the exchequer.

Guluim, who gives the most simple and interesting account of this melancholy case, conjectures, with much reason, that the old women had played at the game of commerce with the Devil, in order to make their simpler neighbours afraid of them; and that they played the game so long, that in an imperfect degree they deceived themselves. But when one of them actually saw her grandchild of nine years old placed in the witness-box, with the intention of consigning her to a public and ignominious death, then the reveries of the imagination vanished, and she deeply felt the reality, that, when she had been somewhat imposing on the child, in devilish sport, she had been whetting the dagger that was to take her own life. It was then no wonder that she uttered a supernatural yell, and poured curses from her heart.

Such was the first case of the Lancashire Witches. In that which follows, the accusation was clearly traced to be founded on a most villanous conspiracy.

About the year 1634, a boy named Edmund Robinson, whose father, a very poor man, dwelt in Pendle Forest, the scene of the alleged witching, declared that, while gathering wild-flowers in one of the glades of the forest, he saw two greyhounds, which he supposed to belong to a gentleman in the neighbourhood. Seeing nobody following them, the boy alleged that he proposed to have a course; but, though a hare was started, the dogs refused to run. Young Robinson was about to punish them with a switch, when one Dame Dickenson, a neighbour's wife, started up instead of the one greyhound; and a little boy instead of the other. The witness averred that Mother Dickenson offered him money to conceal what he had seen, which he refused, saying, 'Nay; thou art a witch!' Apparently, she was determined he should have full evidence of the truth of what he said, for she pulled out of her pocket a bridle, and shot it over the head of the boy, who had so lately represented the other greyhound. He was then directly changed into a horse; Mother Dickenson mounted, and took Robinson before her. They made to a large house or barn, called Hours town, into which the boy entered with the others. He there saw six or seven persons pulling at halters, from which, as they pulled them, meat ready-dressed came flying in quantities, together with lumps of butter, porringers of milk, and whatever else might, in his fancy, complete a rustic feast. He declared that, while engaged in the charm, they made such ugly faces and looked so fiendish, that he was frightened.

This story succeeded so well, that the father of the boy took him round to the neighbouring churches, where he placed him standing on a bench after service, and bade him look round and see what he could observe. The device, however clumsy, succeeded; and no less than seventeen persons were apprehended at the boy's election, and conducted, as witches, to Lancaster Castle. These seventeen persons were tried at the assizes and found guilty; but the judge, whose name has unfortunately been lost, unlike Sir James Altham and Sir Edward Bromley, saw something in the case that excited his suspicion, and, though the juries had not hesitated in any one instance, respited the convicts, and sent up a report of the affair to the government. Twenty-two years had not elapsed since the former case, in vain. Four of the prisoners were, by the judge's recommendation, sent for to the metropolis, and were examined, first by the king's physician, and then by Charles the First, in person. The boy's story was strictly scrutinised, and in the end, he confessed that it was all an imposture, in which he had been instructed by his father; and the whole seventeen prisoners received the royal pardon.

So late as the year 1679, several unfortunate persons were tried and executed at Borrostowness in Scotland, for witchcraft, four of them being poor widows. The following is a literal copy of the indictment upon which they were arraigned--

"Annaple Thomsone, widow in Borrostowness, Margaret Pringle, relect of the deceast John Campbell, seivewright there, &c. &c.

"Aye, and ilk ane of you, are indigtted and accused, that, whereas, notwithstanding the law of God particulurlie sett down in the 20th chapter of Leveticus and the 18th chapter of Deuteronomy, and be the lawes and actes of parliament of this kingdome and constant practis thereof, particularlie to the 27 act, 29 parliament Q. Marie, the cryme of witchcraft is declaired to be one horreid, abominable, and capitall cryme, punishable with the pains of death and confiscatiown of moveables:--nevertheless it is of veritie, that you have comitted and are gwyltie of the said crime of witchcraft, in awa far ye have entered in practicion with the devile, the enemie of your salvatiown, and have renownced our blessed Lord and Savior, and your baptizme, and have given yoursellfes, both soulles and bodies, to the devile, and swyndrie wyth witches, in divers places. And particularlie ye, the said Annaple Thompsone, had a metting with the devile the time of your weidowhood, before you were married to your last husband, in your coming betwixt Linlithgow and Borrostowness, where the devile, in the lykeness of one black man, told you, that you was one poor puddled bodie, and had one lyiff and difficulties to win throu the world; and promesed iff ye wald followe him, and go alongst with him, you should never want, but have one better lyiff; and about fyve wekes thereafter the devile appeared to you, when you was going to the coal-hill, abowt sevin a-clock in the morning. Having renewed his former temtatiown, you did condeshend thereto and declared yourselff content to follow him and become his servant; whereupon the devile * * * and ye and each persone of you wis at several metting with the devile, in the linkes of Borrostowness, and in the house of you, Bessie Vicker; and ye did eate and drink with the devile, and with one another, and with witches in her howss in the night tyme; and the said Wm. Crow brought the ale, which ye drank, extending about sevin gallons, from the howss of Elizabeth Hamilton; and you, the said Annaple, had another metting about fyve wekes ago, when you wis goeing to the coal-hill of Grange, and he inveitted you to go alongst and drink with him in the Grange farmes; and you, the said Margaret Pringle, have bein one witch this many yeeres by gone, hath renownced your baptizme and becum the devile's servant, and promeis to follow him; and the devile took you by the right hand, whereby it was for eight days greivowslie pained, but, having it twitched new again, it immedeatelie became haill; and you, the said Margaret Hamilton has bein the devile's servant these eight or nine years by gone, and he appeared and conversed with you at the town well of Borrostowness, and several times at your owin howss, and drank several choppens of ale with you. * * and the devile gane you ane fyne merk piece of gold, which a lyttle after becam are skleite stone; and you, the said Margaret Hamilton, relict of James Pullevart, has been ane witch, and the devile's servant, thertie yeres since, hath renounced your baptisme, as said is

* * * * *

And ye, and ilk of you, was at a meeting with the devile and other witches, at the croce of Murestain, above Renneil, upon the threttein of October last, where you all danced, and the devile acted the piper, and where you endevored to have destroyed Androw Mitchell, sone to John Mitchell, elder in dean of Kenneil."

The charges thus made against the "poor puddled bodies," Annaple Thomsone and her associates, however ludicrous they may seem, were substantiated to the satisfaction of a jury; and for so meeting, and dancing, and drinking, and frolicking with his satanic majesty (who condescended to act the piper), the unfortunate defendants were solemnly condemned, "to be taken to the west end of Borrostowness, the ordinary place of execution there, upon Tuesday, the 23rd day of December current, betwixt two and four in the afternoon, and then to be wirried at a steack [that is, like a bull or a badger, by dogs in human shape] till they be dead, and thereafter to have their bodies burned to ashes."

The strange and eventful history of the Witches of New England is, perhaps, generally known to the educated and informed; still there must be many who are not aware of all its melancholy details. As a story of witchcraft, without any poetry in it, without anything to amuse the imagination, or interest the fancy, it, perhaps, surpasses everything upon record. The prosecutions for witchcraft in New England were numerous, and they continued, with little intermission, principally at Salem, during the greater part of the year 1692. The accusations were of the most vulgar and contemptible sort--invisible pinchings and blows, fits, with the blastings and mortality of cattle, and wains stuck fast in the ground, or losing their wheels. A conspicuous feature in nearly the whole of these stories, was what they named "the spectral sight," or, in other words, that the profligate accusers first feigned, for the most part, the injuries they received, and next saw the figures and action of the persons who inflicted them, when they were invisible to every one else. Hence the miserable prosecutors gained the power of gratifying the wantonness of their malice, by pretending that they suffered by the hand of any one against whom they had an ill will. The persons so charged, though unseen by any one but the accuser, and who in their corporal presence were at a distance of miles, and were doubtless wholly unconscious of the mischief that was hatching against them, were immediately taken up, and cast into prison. And what was more monstrous and incredible, there stood the prisoner on trial for his life, while the witnesses were permitted to swear that his spectre had haunted them, and afflicted them with all manner of injuries!

The first specimen of this sort of accusation was given by one Paris, a minister of a church at Salem, in the end of the year 1691, who had two daughters, one nine years old, the other eleven, who were afflicted with fits and convulsions. The first person fixed on as the mysterious author of these evils, was Tituba, a female slave in the family, and she was harassed by her master into a confession of unlawful practices and spells. The girls then fixed on Sarah Good, a female, known to be the victim of a morbid melancholy, and Osborne, a poor man who had for a considerable time been bed-ridden, as persons whose spectres had perpetually haunted and tormented them, and Good was, twelve months afterwards, hanged on this accusation.

A person, who was one of the first to fall under the imputation, was one George Burroughs, also a minister of Salem. He had, it seems, buried two wives, both of whom the busy gossips said he had used ill in their life-time, and, consequently, it was whispered he had murdered them. He was accustomed, foolishly, to vaunt that he knew what people said of him in his absence, and this was brought as a proof that he dealt with the devil. Two women, who were witnesses against him, interrupted their testimony with exclaiming that they saw the ghosts of the murdered wives present (who had promised them they would come), though no one else in the court saw them; and this was taken in evidence. Burroughs conducted himself in a very injudicious way on his trial; but, when he came to be hanged, made so impressive a speech on the ladder, with fervent protestations of innocence, as melted many of the spectators into tears.

The accusations, founded upon such stories as these, spread, with wonderful rapidity. In Salem, many were seized with fits, exhibited frightful contortions of their limbs and features, and became a fearful spectacle to the bystanders. They were asked to assign the cause of all this; and pretended to suppose, that they saw some neighbour, already solitary and afflicted, and on that account in ill odour with the townspeople, scowling upon, threatening, and tormenting them. Presently persons, specially gifted with the 'spectral sight,' formed a class by themselves, and were sent about at the public expense from place to place, that they might see what no one else could see. The prisons were filled with the persons accused, and the utmost horror was entertained, as of a calamity which in such a degree had never before visited that part of the world. It happened, most unfortunately, that Baxter's "Certainty of the World of Spirits" had been published but the year before, and a number of copies had been sent out to New England. There seemed a strange coincidence and sympathy between vital christianity in its most honourable sense, and the fear of the devil, who appeared to be "come down unto them, with great wrath." Mr. Increase Mather, and Mr. Cotton Mather, his son, two clergymen of the highest reputation in the neighbourhood, by the solemnity and awe with which they treated the subject, and the earnestness and zeal which they displayed, gave a sanction to the lowest superstition and virulence of the ignorant. All the forms of justice were brought forward on this occasion. There was no lack of judges, and grand juries, and petty juries, and executioners, and still less of prosecutors and witnesses. The first person that was hanged was on the 10th of June, five more on the 19th of July, five on the 19th of August, and eight on the 22nd of September. Multitudes confessed that they were witches; for this appeared the only way for the accused to save their lives. Husbands and children fell down on their knees, and implored their wives and mothers to own their guilt. Many were tortured by being tied neck and heels together, till they confessed whatever was suggested to them. It is remarkable, however, that not one persisted in her confession at the place of execution.

The most interesting story that occurred in this affair, was of Giles Cory, and Martha, his wife. The woman was tried on the 9th of September, and hanged on the 22nd. In the interval, on the 16th, the husband was brought up for trial. He said he was not guilty; but being asked how he would be tried, he refused to go through the customary form, and say, "By God, and my country." He observed that, of all that had been tried, not one had as yet been pronounced not guilty; and he resolutely refused in that mode to undergo a trial. The judge directed, therefore, that according to the barbarous mode prescribed in the mother country, he should be laid on his back, and pressed to death with weights gradually accumulated on the upper surface of his body, a proceeding which had never yet been resorted to by the English in North America. The man persisted in his resolution, and remained mute till he expired.

The whole of this dreadful tragedy, says Mr. Godwin, in his "Lives of the Necromancers," was kept together by a thread. The spectre-seers, for a considerable time, prudently restricted their accusations to persons of ill repute, or otherwise of no consequence in the community. By-and-bye, however, they lost sight of this caution, and pretended they saw the figures of some persons well connected, and of unquestioned honour and reputation, engaged in acts of witchcraft. Immediately the whole fell through in a moment. The leading inhabitants presently saw how unsafe it would be to trust their reputations and their lives to the mercy of these profligate accusers. Of fifty-six bills of indictment that were offered to the grand jury on the 3rd of January, 1693, twenty-six only were found true bills, and thirty thrown out. On the twenty-six bills that were found, three persons only were pronounced guilty by the petty jury, and these three received their pardon from the government. The prisons were thrown open; fifty confessed witches, together with two hundred persons imprisoned on suspicion, were set at liberty, and no more accusations were heard of. The "afflicted," as they were technically termed, recovered their health; the "spectral sight" was universally scouted; and men began to wonder how they could ever have been the victims of so horrible a delusion.

Dr. Cook, in his General and Historical Review of Christianity, gives a melancholy description of the condemnation of a woman for witchcraft, by a tribunal at Geneva, about the middle of the seventeenth century. An enumeration of some of the particulars of this case will afford a tolerably correct notion of the horrible cruelty, which, in almost all proceedings against witchcraft, was practised in different parts of Europe. The woman was accused of having sent devils into two young women, and of having brought distempers upon several others,--a charge sufficiently vague. To substantiate the accusation, the members of the tribunal availed themselves of an opinion, that the devil imprinted certain marks upon his chosen disciples, the effect of which was, that no pain could be produced by any application to the parts of the body where these marks were. They sent two surgeons to examine whether such marks could be discovered in the accused; who reported, not much to the credit of their medical skill and philosophy, that they had found a mark, and that, having thrust a needle into it, the length of a finger, she had felt no pain, and that no blood had issued from the wound. Being brought to the bar, the prisoner denied the statement of the surgeons; upon which she was examined by three more, with whom were joined two physicians. It might have been expected that a body of men, who had received a liberal education, and who must have had some acquaintance with the nature and construction of the human frame, would have presented a report, showing the absurdity of the examination upon which they were employed. This, however, did not occur to them; for they gravely proceeded to thrust sharp instruments into the mark already mentioned, and into others which they thought they had found out; but, as the miserable patient gave plain indication that she suffered from their operations, they were staggered, and satisfied themselves with declaring, that there was something extraordinary in the marks, and that they were not perfectly like those commonly to be seen in witches. She was, notwithstanding, doomed to another investigation, the result of which was, that after some barbarous experiments, she felt no pain, and hence it was inferred that the marks were satanical. She had previously to this last inquiry, been actually put to the rack; but she retained her fortitude and presence of mind, firmly maintaining that she had sent no devils into the persons whom it was alleged she had thus injured. She was again threatened with the torture; and, from dread of undergoing it, made a confession, which it is painful to think was not at once discerned to be the raving of insanity. Similar proceedings were continued; and the conclusion of the whole was, that she was condemned to be hanged and burned, for giving up herself to the devil, and for bewitching two girls!

We conclude this article by the well-known case of the trial and acquittal of Lady Fowlis.

Catherine Ross, Lady Fowlis, was the daughter of Ross of Balnagown, and second wife of the fifteenth Baron of Fowlis. The object of her crimes was to destroy her step-sons, Robert and Hector Monro, with about thirty of their principal kinsmen, in order that her own children might succeed to the possessions of their father, which were considerable, and lay in the counties of Ross, Sutherland, and Inverness. Her brother, George Ross, seems to have been in league with her for the accomplishment of this diabolical purpose, and his wife, the young Lady Balnagown, was marked out as a victim, whose removal, with that of the rest of the family, might pave the way for his marriage with the wife of Robert Monro, the young laird. Their schemes were brought into active operation in the summer of 1577. Towards the end of that year, four of their accomplices, Agnes Roy, Christian Ross, of Canorth, William M'Gillievoricdam, and Thomas M'Kane More M'Allan M'Evoch, were arraigned in a justice court, held in the Cathedral Kirk of Ross, convicted, and burnt. One of the judges who presided at this trial, was Robert Monro, the husband of the principal instigator of the crimes, and father of the family whose lives were practised against. Lady Fowlis, upon the discovery of her wickedness, fled into the county of Caithness, and, after remaining there for the space of three quarters of a year, her husband was persuaded to receive her home again; and she seems to have lived unmolested during the rest of the life of the old baron; and even the young laird, for whose destruction she had perseveringly laboured, made no exertion to bring her to justice. His brother Hector, however, on succeeding him in 1590, procured a commission for the punishment of certain witches and sorcerers, which was understood to be aimed at his step-mother; but before he had time to act upon the power thus granted, she had influence enough to obtain a suspension of the commission; and it was not till July 1591 that she was brought to trial. The evidence mainly rested upon, was that of the notoriety of the facts, and the confession of the accomplices; each count of the indictment closed with a reference to the record of the process before the provincial court, with the occasional addition of "as is notour," "as is manifest be the haill countie of Roiss," or words to that effect. The verdict was favourable to the accused; but Mr. Pitcairn is of opinion, that her escape was owing to her powerful influence. "The inquest," he says, "bears all the appearance of a selected or packed jury, being very inferior in rank and station of life, contrary to the usual custom." The dittory or indictment is the only part of the proceedings that is preserved; indeed, the reading of it seems to have constituted the whole case of the prosecutor, and the simple denial of the "samin and the haill poyntis thereof," the whole case for the accused; after which the jury retired to consider their verdict.

The first method adopted to compass the deaths of the persons who stood in the way of her ambition, was to form figures to represent the young Laird of Fowlis and the young Lady Balnagown, which were to be shot at with elf-arrows, in conformity with the belief, that, if these charmed weapons struck the typical bodies, the wounds would be felt in the real bodies, and produce invisibly the desired effect. For the performance of the necessary rites, a meeting of three witches took place in the house of Christian Ross, at Canorth, Christian herself being one of them, Lady Fowlis another, and Marjory M'Allester, a hag of peculiar eminence, distinguished also by the name of Loskie Loncart, the third. Having constructed two images of clay, they placed them on the north side of the western chamber, and Loskie, producing two elf-arrows, delivered one to Christian Ross, who stood by with it in her hand, while, with the other, Lady Fowlis shot twice at the figure of Lady Balnagown, and Loskie three times at that of Robert Monro, without success. In the mean time, the images not having been properly compacted, crumbled to pieces; and their purpose being thus thwarted for the present, the unhallowed convocation broke up, Loskie having engaged, at the command of Lady Fowlis, to make two other figures. M'Gillievoricdam seems now to have been taken into their counsels; and by his advice, an image in butter of the young Laird of Fowlis was placed by the side of the wall in the same western chamber of Canorth, and shot at eight times with an elf-arrow by Loskie, without effect. This was on the 2nd of July, 1577; and nothing discouraged by repeated failures, a clay figure of the same person was constructed on the 6th, when the indefatigable Loskie discharged the elf-arrow twelve times, sometimes reaching the image, but never wounding it. The other two hags stood by, anxiously watching for a successful shot, Christian Ross having provided three quarters of fine linen cloth, to be bound about the typical corpse, which was to be interred opposite the gate of the Stank of Fowlis, in order to complete the enactment by a full representation of every circumstance which they were desirous of producing as its consequence. The main part of the rite, however, consisted in the infliction of a wound; and this not having been accomplished, they desisted from the vain labour.

The more secret arts of witchcraft having failed to effect the desired ends, Lady Fowlis next had recourse to poison; and numerous were the consultations held to concoct drugs and devise means for administering them. The same assistants figured as the chief agents in this equally abominable work. A stoup full of poisoned ale was first mixed in the barn of Drumnyer, but opportunity not serving for its immediate use, it was kept three nights in the kiln, and the stoup being leaky, the liquor was lost, all but a very small quantity; to prove the strength of which, Lady Fowlis caused her servant lad, Donald Mackay, to swallow it. The three confederates were assembled on this occasion, and as the draught did not kill the boy, but only threw him into a state of stupor, Loskie Loncart was dismissed, with an injunction to make "ane pig-full of ranker poysoune." The obedient hag prepared the potion, and sent it to her patroness, by whom it was delivered to her nurse, Mary More, to be conveyed to Angus Leith's house, where the young laird then was, that it might be employed for his destruction. Night was the time chosen for despatching her on this errand: she broke the vessel by the way, spilt the liquor, and, wishing probably to ascertain the nature of what had been intrusted to her under such circumstances of mystery, tasted it, and paid the forfeit of her curiosity with her life; and what helps to show the deadly qualities of their preparation, the indictment adds, that "the place quhair the said pig brak, the gers that grew upon the samin wes so hirch by (beyond) the natur of other gers, that nather cow nor scheip evir preavit (tasted) thairof." It were endless to detail all the traffickings and messengers kept scouring the country to collect the required quantity of poison. Loskie Loncart was lodged and maintained a whole summer in Christian Ross's house, for the greater convenience of assisting to drug drinks, and devise means of administering them. M'Gillievoricdam was sent to consult the gipsies about the most effectual way of poisoning the young laird. He also purchased a quantity of the powder used to destroy rats, of a merchant in Elgin, and another portion in Tain, and was strictly questioned by Lady Fowlis, whether it would suit best to mix the ingredient with egg, brose, or kail. No fitting opportunity seems to have occurred for administering any of the portions to Robert Monro; but, after three interviews, John M'Farquhar, Lady Balnagown's cook, was prevailed upon by the present of two ells of grey cloth, a shirt, and twelve and fourpence (Scots), to lend them his aid in accomplishing their purpose on his mistress. That young lady being to entertain a party of friends one night at her house at Ardmore, a witch, named Catherine Mynday, carried poison thither to M'Farquhar, who poured it on the principal dish, which was kidneys. This woman remained to witness the effects, and afterwards declared that she "skunnerit," or revolted at the sight, which was "the sarest and maist cruell that evir scho saw, seeing the vomit and vexacioun that was on the young Lady Balnagown and her company." The victim of these horrible practices did not die immediately, but contracted a deadly sickness, "quhairin," says the indictment, "scho remains yet (that is twelve years after taking the poison) incurable."

The persons named as privy to the designs of Lady Fowlis were numerous, and included the daughter of a baronet of her own name, whose interest in the matter seems to have been merely that of a connexion, or, at most, a clanswoman; and the bribes with which she purchased assistance and secrecy were of the paltriest kind. She provided lodgings in the houses of her adherents, for some whom she wished to have near her, for the better maturing of her schemes. The cook of young Lady Balnagown was bribed, as we have seen, with little more than a shirt and a shilling sterling! The fidelity of Christian Ross was bespoken, by reminding her that she ought not to reveal anything against one who was her lady and mistress. Another of the gang was paid with 'ane-half furlett of meill.' M'Gillievoricdam got four ells of linen for his trouble, but, besides, appropriated six and eightpence (Scots) of the money given to him to be expended for poison; at other times, however, this person was conciliated with 20s., a firlot of meal, five ells of linen, and 16s. The brother of Lady Fowlis is also said to have promised to Thomas M'Kane More M'Allan M'Evoch 'ane garmounthe of clais' (suit of clothes) for his services in the same base plot.

From a review of this whole case, with others of the same date, it will appear that the crimes of former times were distinguished from those of the present day, not so much by the greater atrocity of any single act, as by the length of time for which they were meditated, and the number of persons admitted to a knowledge of them, without any fear of disclosure. They were the offspring of habitual thought rather than the effect of sudden starts of passion.

Immediately after the acquittal of Lady Fowlis, her step-son and prosecutor, the seventeenth Baron of Fowlis, was presented at the bar on an accusation in some respects similar, of which he also was found not guilty, by a jury, the majority of whom had sat on the preceding trial. In January, 1588-9, this gentleman being taken ill, sent a servant with his own horse, to bring to his assistance Marion M'Ingarach, who is characterised as being 'ane of the maist notorious and rank wichis in all this realme,' and who, as soon as she entered the house where he lay sick, gave him three drinks of water from three stones (probably rude stone cups). After a long consultation, she declared there was no hope of recovery, unless the principal man of the patient's house should suffer death for him; and it was determined, after some discussion, that this substitute should be George Monro, eldest son of Catharine Monro, Lady Fowlis. A plan was next devised for transferring the onus moriendi, for the present, to George; according to which, in the first place, no person was to have admittance to the house in which Hector lay, until his half-brother came; and on his arrival, the sick man, with his left hand, was to take his visitor by the right, and not to speak until spoken to by him. In conformity with these injunctions, several friends, who called to inquire for the patient, were excluded, and messengers were despatched, both to George Monro's house and to other parts of the country, where he was thought to be engaged in the sports of the chase. Before he could be found, seven expresses had been sent after him, and five days expired. On the intelligence that his brother desired earnestly to see him, he repaired to the place, and was received in the form prescribed by the witch, Hector with his hand grasping George's right, and abstaining from speaking until asked "how he did," to which he replied, "the better that you have come to visit me," and he uttered not a word more, notwithstanding his urgency to obtain an interview. The younger Monro having, in this manner, been brought fairly within the compass of the witch's spells, she that night mustered certain of her accomplices, and having provided spades, repaired to a spot where two lairds' lands met, and, at 'ane after midnycht,' digged a grave of the exact length of Hector Monro, and laid the turf of it carefully aside. They then came home, and M'Ingarach gave her assistants instructions concerning the part that each was to perform in the remaining ceremonies. The object--namely, the preservation of Hector's life and the death of George in his stead--being now openly stated, some of those present objected, that if the latter should be cut off suddenly, the hue and cry would be raised, and all their lives would be in danger. They therefore pressed the presiding witch not to make the sacrifice immediately, but to cause it to follow after such an interval as might obviate suspicion, which she accordingly engaged to accomplish, and warranted him to live till the 17th day of the ensuing April, at least. This being arranged to the satisfaction of the persons assembled, the sick man was laid in a pair of blankets, and carried out to the place where the grave had been prepared. The party were strictly enjoined to be silent, and only M'Ingarrach, and Christian Neill, Hector's foster-mother, were to utter the necessary incantations. Being come to the spot, their living burden was deposited in the grave, the turf being spread over him, and held down with staves. M'Ingarrach stood by the side of the grave, and Neill, holding a boy, a son of Hector Leith, by the hand, ran the breadth of nine rings, then returned, and demanded, 'which is your choice?' Thereupon the other replied, 'Mr. Hector, I choose you to live, and your brother George to die for you.' This form of conjuration was twice gone through that night; and, on its completion, the sick man was lifted, carried home--not one of the company uttering a word further--and replaced in bed.

To the efficacy of this spell was attributed not only the recovery of Hector, but the death of George Monro, though the latter continued in perfect health not only for the time warranted by the witch, but for a year longer. He was taken ill in April, 1590, and died on the 3rd of June following. M'Ingarrach was highly favoured by the gentleman who supposed he owed to her his life. As soon as his health was restored, 'be the dewilisch moyan foirsaid,' he carried her to the house of his uncle at Kilurmmody, where she was entertained with as much obsequious attention as if she had been his spouse, and obtained such pre-eminence in the country that no one durst offend her, though her ostensible character was only that of keeper to his sheep. Upon the information of Lady Fowlis, the protector of M'Ingarrach was compelled to present her at Aberdeen, where she was examined before the king, and produced the stones out of which she had made the baron drink. These enchanted cups were delivered to the keeping of the justice clerk; but we are not informed as to the fate of the witch herself.

The indictment charged the prisoner that 'ye gat yowr health be the develisch means foirsaid.' And further, it said, 'ye are indicted for art and part of the cruel, odious, and shameful slaughter of the said George Monro, your brother, by the enchantments and witchcrafts used upon him by you and of your devise, by speaking to him within youre bed, taking of him by the right hand, conform to the injunctions given to you by the said Marian Ingarrach, in the said month of January, 1589 years; throw the which inchantmentis he tuke ane deidlie seiknets in the moneth of Apryle, 1590 yetris, and continew and thairin until Junii thairafter, diceissit in the said moneth of Junii, being the third day of that instant!'

JAMES HARDY VAUX,

TRANSPORTED FOR PRIVATELY STEALING.

The adventures of James Hardy Vaux are not inferior in interest to those of the renowned Guzman d'Alfarache, or Lazarillo de Tormes, and like those celebrated rogues, in order that the public may profit by his example, he has given the world a narrative of his exploits, in which philosophers may read the workings of an unprincipled conscience, the legislator may discover the effect of the existing laws upon the mind of a criminal, and by means of which the citizen may learn to detect the frauds by which he is so constantly, and, but too frequently, so successfully beset. So excellent a moral is to be derived from the memoirs of this criminal, well written as they appear to be, that we shall furnish the reader with occasional extracts from them, giving an abridgment of those portions of them which present features of less interest.

James Hardy Vaux was born at Guildford, in the county of Surrey, in the year 1782, where his father, who was a foreigner, lived in the service of a Mr. Sumner, as cook and house-steward. It appears that the mother of this unfortunate man was born of highly respectable parents, her father being a Mr. Lowe, a solicitor in London, and that her marriage with her husband took place much against the wishes of her friends. In 1785, Mr. Lowe retired from business, and going to live in the country, he took with him his little grandson, whom he treated with parental fondness; sent him to school, and gave him a liberal education, such as to qualify him for his own profession. Mrs. Vaux's first imprudence had partially alienated the affections of her parents, and her subsequent conduct did not tend to restore their good opinion. Young Vaux, therefore, was entirely abandoned to the care of his grandfather and grandmother, and he complains that his natural parents never treated him with anything like a proper affection.

After six years' residence in the country, Mr. Lowe was prevailed upon to live with his daughter and son-in-law, who had recently commenced the hat business at Great Turnstile, Holborn. Young Vaux, being at this time nine years old, was sent to a respectable boarding-school at Stockwell; and after three years he returned to his grandfather, who had quitted, in consequence of family disagreements, the house of his son-in-law, and then resided in one of the squares. Mrs. Lowe's health declining, the family removed to Wisbeach, Cambridgeshire, where they continued for some time, and then returned to their original residence in Shropshire, young Vaux being now fourteen years of age. Here he became acquainted with the son of John Maultrie, Esq., a resident in the vicinity, and, on that youth's removal to college, his father proposed to pay for Vaux to accompany him; but his indecision and obstinacy rendered the proffered kindness of no avail. The army or navy was his ambition; but, as his grandfather would not consent to his entering either of these professions, the desire was abandoned, and, after much hesitation, he was ultimately bound an apprentice to Parker and Co. linen-drapers, at Liverpool.

As this step may be called his first entrance into life, we will let him speak for himself, as his conduct in his first situation clearly indicates his character, while it forcibly reminds youth of the danger they run in yielding to the first incentives to crime. "I was now," said Hardy Vaux, "turned of fourteen; my health and constitution good, my spirits elevated, and I felt all those pleasing sensations which naturally arise in a youthful mind, happy in conscious innocence, and flattered by the prospect of rising to honourable independence. The gaiety and bustle of this beautiful and improving borough at once charmed and amused me; I spent a week in viewing the public buildings, the environs, &c.; but, above all, my admiration was excited by the numerous and capacious docks, by which ships of large burden are admitted, as it were, into the heart of the town, and discharge their rich and varied cargoes with surprising facility, which are deposited in spacious warehouses, of amazing extent, and from twelve to fourteen stories high, with which these noble docks are nearly surrounded.

"The opportunities I had, during my residence in Liverpool, of viewing the daily arrivals and sailings of merchant ships to and from all parts of the world, particularly the Guineamen, which formed a remarkably fine class of vessels, revived the latent desire I had for a seafaring life; and I wanted but little incitement, had the smallest opportunity offered, to take French leave of my masters, and gratify my rambling propensity. However, the bustle in which I was continually involved, and the new scenes of amusement which every succeeding day presented, suppressed the inclination for a time; but that it was not totally subdued will be seen hereafter. The establishment and economy of our house were upon the most regular plan; the former consisted of six apprentices (myself among the number), and four assistants at very liberal stipends, besides, a nephew of the elder partner, who superintended the whole and officiated in the counting-house; there were also several porters and other subordinates, for all of whom full employment was found. Being the junior apprentice, it was my province to polish the counters, trim the lamps, carry out small parcels, and to perform other inferior duties; when disengaged from which, I assisted in waiting on retail customers and making myself otherwise useful behind the counter. We had a plentiful table appropriated to us, to which we retired in turn during the hours of business, commodious and airy chambers, and, in short, we enjoyed every comfort we could desire. For the first month of my probation I behaved extremely well, and by my quickness and assiduity gained the good opinion of my employers, who wrote of me in the most favourable terms to my friends in Shropshire; nor did my expenses exceed my allowance for pocket-money, which was fully adequate to every rational enjoyment.

"Among my fellow-apprentices was a young man named King, some years older than myself, with whom, from a similarity of sentiment, I formed a close intimacy. He was of an excellent disposition, but a great lover of pleasure; and as his servitude was far advanced, and his prospects peculiarly flattering, he was under very little restraint, but gave the rein to his passion for dissipation. His expenses were profuse, but whether he indulged in them at the expense of his probity I could never ascertain. He soon introduced me to several young men of his own stamp, and I became in a short time as great a rake as the best of them: nor was our conversation confined to our own sex, scarcely a night passing without our visiting one or other of those houses consecrated to the Cyprian Goddess, with which the town of Liverpool abounds. In such a course of life, it is not likely that I could submit to limited hours: my companions and I seldom returned home before midnight, and sometimes not until the ensuing morning. Though we took measures to keep this from the ears of our employers, it could not fail to be known in time; and the consequence was a strong but tender remonstrance on my imprudence, which much affected me at the moment; but the impression was transitory and soon effaced. I plunged deeper and deeper into the vortex of folly and dissipation, until I was obliged to have recourse for advice to the Æsculapius of Gilead House. This irregular mode of life had borne hard upon my finances, and I had not, as yet, had recourse to fraud or peculation. I was liberally supplied by my relations on leaving Shropshire, and had received my first quarterly allowance; but an event, which soon followed, tempted me to the first breach of confidence and integrity. I had in my youth been passionately fond of cocking, a sport for which the county of Salop has been always famed; and, though so young, I had constantly kept several cocks at walk, unknown to my parents; so that I had acquired a considerable share of experience and knowledge on the subject. One day, when I was sent with some muslins to wait on a lady in the environs of Liverpool, near the canal, I accidentally passed a cock-pit, where a great crowd was assembled; and I understood that a grand main was about to commence. Elated at this pleasing intelligence, I hastened to execute my commission; and returning to the house, entered it, and, leaving my wrapper of goods in the care of the landlady, I ascended to the pit, and took my seat. The company was, as usual, of a motley description; but there were many genteel persons. I ventured a few trifling bets at first with various success; but at length an opportunity offering, which I considered as next to a certainty, I laid the odds to a large amount, flattering myself that, by this stroke of judgment, I should be enabled to figure away with increased éclat among my gay companions. After I had so done, greater odds were still vociferated; but in a moment the scene was changed! the fallen cock, in the agonies of death, made a desperate effort, and, rising for a moment, cut the throat of his antagonist, who was standing over him, in the act of crowing with exultation on his victory! The latter immediately fell, choked with the effusion of blood, nor did the victor survive him many moments. The whole pit resounded with acclamation, and the discord which ensued beggars description. I was not the only sufferer by this revolution of fortune; many others had laid higher odds than myself, and to a much greater amount. I was soon surrounded by my creditors, to whom I disbursed every shilling I had about me, among which were some pounds I had just received from the lady for goods, and for which I had given her a receipt. I was still something deficient, for which I pledged my honour to one of the parties, giving my address, and promising payment on an early day. I now returned home, filled with remorse and shame; but, as the first false step of a young person insensibly leads to another, I added to my guilt by concealing the affair from my employers, and directed them to book the articles the lady had selected. I had a degree of false shame about me, which rendered me incapable of confessing the truth and promising amendment, or all might still have been well. In the evening I had recourse to the bottle to drown my chagrin; and I determined to purloin a certain sum every day, in the course of my attendance on retail customers, until I had liquidated my debt of honour! Then I vowed to stop and reform. Delusive idea! how little did I then know my own weakness, or the futility of such resolutions in a young mind! And who, that once begins a career of vice, can say to himself, "Thus far will I go, and no farther?" After I had discharged my engagement I found a small sum must be raised for pocket-money, and other exigencies, as it would be above two months before I could expect a remittance.

"I therefore continued my peculation, and at length my evil genius suggested to me, that I might, by venturing a small sum, become more fortunate at the cock-pit, and repair the loss I had sustained; as miracles don't happen every day, and the odds must win in the long run. Thus I argued with myself; and, fatally for me, I tried the experiment.

"From this moment I never missed a day's fighting at the cock-pit; and when sent on business which required my speedy return, I could not tear myself from the spot, but frequently stayed out several hours, and, afterwards forged a lie to account for my delay. I sometimes came off a winner; but, as I was not then acquainted with the art of hedging, by which the knowing ones commonly saved themselves, I was sure to be a loser at every week's end. But I managed matters so well, that my frequent secretions from the till were not discovered, however they might be suspected. The extensive trade of the shop rendered it next to impossible; and what I abstracted was a trifle compared to the gross receipts of the day. My continued misconduct became now the subject of frequent remonstrances on the part of Mr. Parker, the resident partner; which not having had the desired effect, that gentleman wrote to my friends, informing them in general terms that I had unhappily formed improper connexions, and that my late levity of conduct rendered me unfit to be received into their house; therefore desiring I might be recalled without delay. Mr. Parker concluded with a remark, which I shall never forget, and which was peculiarly gratifying to my grandfather's (perhaps too partial) feelings: after expatiating on my general capacity for business, he added, 'his smartness and activity are really wonderful.' This letter produced a speedy answer, in consequence of which I was directed to hasten my departure, which took place in a few days, Mr. Parker giving me a great deal of wholesome advice at parting; observing that although it was not in his power to charge me with any direct criminality, my inconsiderate behaviour, and the continued excesses of my conduct, left but too much room for unfavourable conjectures.

"Behold me now returned to my grandfather, after an absence of nearly five months; and this excursion may be called my first entrance into life. I could not help blushing at the consciousness of my own unworthiness; but the blind partiality of my dear parents induced them to believe me less culpable than I really was, and to listen readily to anything I had to offer in palliation of my errors."

Having now tasted the vicious cup of pleasure, Vaux found a village too limited a sphere for his ambition, and resolved to try his fortune in London. His grandfather, having many friends in his own profession, gave him letters of introduction, which, on his arrival in the metropolis, procured him a situation as copying clerk in a solicitor's office. Resolving to be master of his own conduct, he did not visit the house of his father, who by this time had tried many businesses, but was unfortunate in all; but took private lodgings, and for three months conducted himself with great propriety. But, getting acquainted with several young persons of both sexes, he gradually gave way to dissipation, visited the theatres, and became irregular in his attendance at his office, in consequence of which he was formally dismissed.

Finding it still necessary to have some employment, he procured, through one of his dissipated companions, the son of a wealthy citizen, a situation, as clerk in the warehouse of Messrs. Key and Sons, wholesale stationers, in Abchurch Lane, Lombard Street, at a guinea a week. Here, however, he continued but for a short time; for he could not endure a confinement in the East End, so far from the resort of his old acquaintances, who chiefly frequented Covent Garden and the purlieus of Drury Lane.

"During an abode," says he, "of ten months in London, as I was frequently pushed for money, I availed myself of a genteel appearance, and pretty good address; and, taking advantage of the credulity of several tradesmen in the neighbourhood, I ordered wearing apparel of various kinds, and sometimes other goods, upon credit, without much concern about the day of payment; however, I always took care to procure a bill of parcels with the articles, which precluded any charge of fraud, and left the matter, at the worst, but a debt contracted; for which, being a minor, I knew I could not be arrested. This was my first deviation from honesty since I left Liverpool. I was also frequently obliged to change my lodgings; and, as payment of my rent would have required ready money, for which I had so many other uses, I commonly decamped under favour of the night, having previously removed my effects by various stratagems. As I was ashamed to let my grandfather know the true state of my affairs, and as I really grieved at the expenses I had already caused him, which I knew had much inconvenienced him, I forbore at last to trouble him for remittances; but falsely assured him that I was doing well, and enabled to live upon the profits of my industry. I desired he would abandon the idea of articling me to the law, as the expenses attending admission had of late years been so much increased by stamp duties; and as I could, if I continued the study, at a future period, practise under the sanction of another person's name; a custom then very prevalent, though irregular. By these assurances I quieted the good old man, and silenced any inquiries my friends might have instituted respecting me; as I now really wished to continue free from all restraint upon my person or actions, and foolishly flattered myself that I should, by some lucky event, ultimately secure the means of independence. These conjectures were, however, perfectly vague, and proceeding from no fixed idea whatever.

"On quitting my city employment, I returned to the law, for which I still retained a partiality; and obtained a more liberal salary than before in an office equally respectable. Indeed I was now become more useful, and had improved much, both in person and address, since my arrival in town.

"I was still frequently reduced to pecuniary straits, and obliged to have recourse to various expedients, known only to men of the town, for my support: some of them, indeed, were bordering on dishonesty, and none of them very honourable. But to describe them individually is impossible; and a man who lives by his wits, as the phrase is, will assure you, if called to account, that he really could not for his life tell by what distinct means he makes out a living.

"As I now wrote uncommonly fast, I quitted the station of a weekly clerk, and obtained writings to copy by the sheet, from the law-stationers, by which I could earn considerably more money; and in this employment I continued to labour diligently for several hours every day, and sometimes half the night.

"When I had a mind to relax from this occupation, and particularly if my finances were at a low ebb, I frequently resorted to the Blue Lion, in Gray's Inn Lane, a house noted for selling fine ale, and crowded every night by a motley assemblage of visitors, among whom were many thieves, sharpers, and other desperate characters, with their doxies. I was introduced to this house (from which hundreds of young persons may date their ruin) by a fellow-clerk, who appeared to have a personal intimacy with most of these obnoxious persons; however, though I listened eagerly to their conversation, (part of which was then unintelligible to me,) and fancied them people of uncommon spirit, I was not yet sufficiently depraved to cultivate their acquaintance; but sat with a pipe in my mouth, enveloped in smoke, ruminating, like a philosopher, on the various characters who tread the great stage of life, and felt a sort of secret presentiment that I was myself born to undergo a more than common share of vicissitudes and disappointments."

During his nightly resort to the Blue Lion he became acquainted with a young man named D----, who had been steward on board a king's ship, but who had spent all his money, and had now resolved to go to Portsmouth, in the hope of procuring a situation similar to the one he had left. Vaux, naturally inconstant, determined on accompanying him; and, having converted most of their clothes into money, they set off on foot; but had not proceeded farther than Kingston when their cash became exhausted, and they owed a trifle to the mistress of the Eight Bells.

"In this dilemma," says Vaux, "a sudden thought struck me. Calling for pen, ink, and paper, I told my companion I had a scheme in my head for raising a supply, but would not impart it until I had tried its success. I then drew up a sort of memorial to the following effect:--'To the Ladies and Gentlemen of Kingston.--The writer hereof, a young man of respectable family, and good education, having, by a series of misfortunes, been reduced to the greatest distress, is now on his way to Portsmouth, in hopes of procuring a situation in the navy; but, being destitute of money for his present support, humbly solicits your charitable assistance towards enabling him to pursue his journey. To a noble mind, the pleasure of doing a good action is its own reward. The smallest donation will be gratefully received, and any lady or gentleman inclined to relieve the writer is earnestly requested to subscribe his or her name hereto.'--Having completed this production, I desired my friend to wait patiently for my return, and assured him I doubted not of bringing speedy relief. I now set out on my expedition, and immediately waited on Mr. Mayor, who was a grocer; but in this first essay I was unsuccessful. His worship declared he never encouraged applications of this sort from strangers; and desired me to go about my business. I, however, took the liberty of subscribing his name to my memorial, by way of sanction, and gave his charity credit for a donation of five shillings. Young as I was at that time, I well knew that example, in matters of this kind, goes a great way; and that many persons, without a grain of Christian benevolence in their composition, will give liberally from motives of ostentation, when they see that their neighbours have already contributed, and that their own names and donations will also be made public. I experienced the truth of this notion, for I was successful in almost every application I afterwards made. Having visited a number of genteel houses, with various success, I was on the point of returning, to impart my good luck to my companion, when, coming to a very handsome mansion-house in the suburbs of the town, I thought I ought not to omit calling, and a person at that moment passing by, I inquired whose residence it was, and which was the entrance to the premises; for the house was situated in the midst of a spacious pleasure-ground, remote from the high road, and, it being quite dusk, I had not observed any avenue by which I could gain access to it. I was informed that it was the residence of Lady W----; that a little further on I should perceive a door in the brick wall, which extended along the road-side; and that if I entered at that door, and proceeded in a straight direction, I should arrive at the servants' hall; but my informer cautioned me to keep close to another wall on my left hand, which divided this avenue from the lawn in front of the mansion, because there was a very large and fierce dog at the upper end, but which, being chained up, could not reach me, if I followed the above directions. I thanked this obliging person, and immediately proceeded to the door described, which I entered, and walked cautiously, and not without some fear, by the wall-side, till I perceived, by the lights in the kitchen and out-offices, that I was near the premises.

"It was now very dark, and I was carefully exploring my way, my mind full of apprehensions at the thought of this terrible dog; when lo! at that instant, to my inexpressible consternation, the ferocious animal made a spring at me, and I gave myself up for dead. However, though he was certainly within a yard of me, he did me no mischief; but my alarm was so great, that, without knowing how or where to fly for refuge, I ran precipitately from the spot; and, when I recovered myself from the fright, found myself in the pleasure-ground in front of the mansion-house. It appeared that I had, without knowing, escaped through a door in the wall, which was open on my left hand at the moment I was alarmed by the dog. I was now more at a loss than ever, for I knew of no way to get out of the pleasure-ground except by the aforesaid door, and fear of the dog prevented my attempting that passage. After wandering about for a few minutes, I approached the mansion, and, going up to one of the parlour windows, which were very large, and on a level with the terrace before the house, I applied my eye to the glass, and discovered, through an aperture in the inside shutters, a numerous and splendid party of ladies and gentlemen at dinner. Having considered a moment, I determined on a very bold step, as I saw no alternative but remaining all night in the open air, exposed to the inclemency of the weather. Taking advantage of a pause in the company's conversation, I tapped with my finger at the window, and immediately the whole party were struck with wonder. In the midst of their surprise I repeated my knock; and then, after several voices exclaiming 'Good God! there is certainly somebody at the window,' &c. a gentleman rose from the table, and, advancing towards me, opened first the shutters, and then the window itself, which might, in fact, be called a pair of folding-doors; and these being thrown back, I walked in with the most respectful air I could assume, and presented myself to the astonished company. Having bowed twice or thrice, and given time for their alarm to subside, I began to make my speech.

"Apologizing for my presumptuous intrusion, I stated in a concise manner the fright I had endured from the dog, my embarrassment at not being able to find means of egress from the pleasure-ground, and my having consequently taken the liberty of knocking at the window. I then presented my memorial, which was read in turn by most of the company, each of whom surveyed me with evident surprise. Having answered such queries as they thought proper to put to me, I was desired by the lady of the house to withdraw to the kitchen for a short time; and a servant was ordered to attend me thither. Here I had my story to repeat for the information of the domestics, who laughed heartily at the adventure of the dog, but afterwards seriously assured me that, had the animal not been chained, or had I approached within his reach, he would inevitably have torn me to pieces. The parlour dinner being over, and the dishes brought out, I was desired to fall to; and, being really hungry, I wanted no pressing, but selected from the variety of good things on the table a very fine buttock of beef, on which substantial fare I made a sumptuous meal. There was no scarcity of good malt liquor, and Lady W---- very kindly sent me out a pint of red port, with a particular injunction (which, by-the-by, was unnecessary) that I should eat and drink heartily.

"At length I was summoned to attend the company in the parlour; and her ladyship then expressing her concern for my misfortunes, and her anxious hope that I should speedily find an end to them, presented me with half a guinea. The rest of the party also said many handsome things, and the majority of them contributed to my relief. In addition to these favours, one of the gentlemen at the particular request of Lady W----, took the trouble to write a letter in my behalf to the captain of a man-of-war, supposed to be then lying at Portsmouth, entreating him to give me an appointment under him. Her ladyship, after obliging me to take another glass of wine, and repeating her sorrow for my distress, advised me to lose no time in prosecuting my journey, ordered a servant to conduct me to the door at which I had first entered her premises, and I took a respectful leave of this truly benevolent party.

"Returning to the Eight Bells, I imparted my adventures to my friend, who was, of course, much pleased at my success; for I had realised between four and five pounds. I found this begging scheme so productive, that I was in no hurry to pursue the Portsmouth speculation; and, as we were both satisfied with our present quarters, it was agreed that we should continue a few days longer in Kingston, in which time I proposed to follow up my success by making a regular circuit among the inhabitants, and I, in fact, determined to levy similar contributions in every town which lay in our route.

"It is to be observed that this idea of raising money was perfectly original in me, for at that time I had never heard of such a practice, but have since discovered that it is a very common expedient, and is called by those persons who live by such impositions, 'the Letter Racket.'

"The following day I again sallied forth and met with equal success, visiting not only the houses of private persons, but even the respectable shopkeepers, &c.; and I may here state, once for all, that in the course of this as well as my subsequent speculations of the same nature, I met with various receptions according to the charitable or churlish dispositions of the people to whom I applied. Many pitied my case and cheerfully relieved me. Others expressed equal commiseration, but declined giving anything, either because 'they never encouraged beggars,' or 'they had poor enough of their own to maintain.' Some invited me into their parlours, treated me with excessive politeness, and obliged me to take refreshment at their own tables; and where there were any young ladies in the family, I was an object of particular solicitude, and the recital of my misfortunes drew many a sigh from their tender bosoms. Others desired me like the Mayor of Kingston to go about my business, and hinted that I ought to be sent to the house of correction as a vagrant. Sometimes the servants who admitted me refused to present my memorial, declaring that they had strict orders from their masters or mistresses never to trouble them on such an occasion. The donations I commonly received were from one shilling to five; sometimes, but rarely, I was presented with gold, particularly at the seats of the nobility and gentry; all which lying within a short distance of the road I travelled, I made a point of calling at; and for my information on this subject, I provided myself with a comprehensive 'Book of Roads,' in which those objects are correctly laid down. Some truly charitable persons, but whose means were limited, relieved me with sixpence, and of course I was bound to accept such a trifle with as much appearance of thankfulness as I would a larger sum; and frequently when I called at a farm-house by the road side, I have been compelled to take some cold meat or other eatables, which I afterwards bestowed upon the first more needy beggar I met on my way. It was my custom in general to travel on foot, making short stages, and putting up at a good inn in every town I entered, where I lived upon the best during my stay, and associated with London riders, and other respectable guests. When tired of walking. I availed myself of a passing stage-coach or return post-chaise; and my only equipage was a spare shirt, handkerchief, &c. which, with my 'Book of Roads,' I carried in a small bundle under my arm."

On the evening of the second day, however, he was arrested and carried before the magistrates, charged as a rogue and vagabond. He referred the magistrates to one of his grandfather's friends in London; and the inquiries there satisfying them, he was discharged out of custody on the second day of confinement, and hastened back to town, his companion having proceeded to Portsmouth. After spending one dissipated evening in London, he set out next day to Portsmouth; and, notwithstanding the check he had received three days earlier, he stopped in Kingston, and levied contributions, in the usual way, on the charitable inhabitants, avoiding, of course, that part of the town where he had been before. This practice he continued on the road, and after the payment of his expenses he still had 15_l._ in his pocket. On his reaching Portsmouth, his fervour for the navy cooled on his finding that his friend D---- had procured a situation as a merchant's clerk, and he was, after some time, induced to enter into the service of an attorney. A short employment was quite sufficient to satisfy his industrious fit, and he soon quitted Portsmouth in disgust, and proceeded once more towards the great metropolis. There his good fortune threw before him an opportunity, which steadiness on his part only required to render most advantageous. Dining one day at the Saracen's Head, Snow Hill, he entered into conversation with a gentleman named Kennedy, a surgeon in the navy, who, pleased with his manner and address, procured for him an appointment as midshipman on board the Astrea frigate. Delighted with the prospect of at length entering the navy, he wrote to his grandfather, who immediately furnished him with 100_l._ to purchase an outfit. On the voyage he became weary of his position as a midshipman, and the captain being in want of a clerk, he tendered his services and was accepted. At the conclusion of a long cruise in the northern latitudes, the vessel made for England; and on their arrival in the Thames, Vaux proceeded to London. He there met with a dashing Cyprian, and unmindful of the future, he remained with her until all his money was spent; and then he found that his vessel had sailed, carrying with her his clothes, books, and all the little property of which he was possessed. Now, driven to the greatest distress, he had recourse to the gaming-table, where for a short time he contrived, by associating with professed gamblers, to procure a precarious existence. But the summer approaching and dupes becoming fewer, he obtained by application to Messrs. Dalton and Edwards, King's Bench Walk, a situation as clerk at one pound a week, with Mr. Dalton, a solicitor, of Bury St. Edmund's. "Upon the whole," says he, "this was one of the most agreeable employments I ever engaged in; and, had I prudently retained it for a few years, there is no doubt I should have met with the most liberal encouragement from my employer. But my natural inconstancy still prevailed; and I had been but a few weeks at Bury, before I grew tired of the country, and thought of nothing but returning to London, with such spoil as I could obtain from the credulity of the tradesmen in the town. With this view I bespoke clothes, boots, linen, and other articles at various shops, informing the parties that I should expect credit till the expiration of my quarter, to which, on account of the respectable gentleman I served, they readily consented. As soon as any of these goods were brought home, I immediately packed them up in small portable parcels, which I sent up to London by the coach, consigned to a pawnbroker with whom I was on intimate terms; desiring him to receive and keep them safe until he saw me. I also coached off, in the same clandestine manner, such of my own apparel, &c. as I had in my trunk, in which, to prevent discovery, I deposited stones or bricks to preserve its gravity. By these means I had nothing to impede my sudden departure, when rendered necessary by the arrival of the expected quarter-day.

"I must here observe, to meet any surprise the reader might feel on the subject, that, as I had never at this time been connected with downright thieves, so I had never yet committed an actual theft, save the embezzlement of money at Liverpool; (which indeed the law has lately made a felonious taking;) though I therefore scrupled not at practising a fraud, I was not yet sufficiently depraved to commit a robbery. This will account for my not robbing the premises of Mr. Dalton, which, at a subsequent period of my life, would have been my primary object, as I had access to every part of the house, and have frequently viewed with longing eyes the servant cleaning a handsome service of plate in the pantry.

"I had now been about two months at Bury, and had no intention of absconding till the expiration of the third; when an accidental event induced me to hasten my departure. One afternoon Mr. Dalton had written several letters in the office, and the footman being elsewhere engaged, he requested me to drop them in the post-office in my way home. I accordingly brought them out in my hand, and happening inadvertently to cast my eye on the superscriptions, I perceived that one was addressed to Mr. Lyne, tailor, Cecil Street, Strand, London. Being curious to know what correspondence Mr. Dalton could have with a tailor, I opened this letter, and found the contents to the following effect:--'Mr. Lyne,--By the waggon which goes from hence on Monday next, and arrives at the Blue Boar in Bishopsgate Street on Wednesday night, I shall send you a portmanteau corded and sealed, but not locked, containing two coats, sixteen waistcoats, fourteen pair of breeches, and a suit of uniform of the City Light Horse. Most of these articles are nearly as good as new; but, as they have now become unfashionable, I desire you will dispose of them to the best advantage, on my account, and send me down by the same conveyance two suits made in the present taste,' &c.

"It immediately struck me, that, if I took measures accordingly, I might arrive in town time enough to intercept and obtain this trunk from the inn; for which purpose I put this letter in my pocket, and the others in the post-office. The next day, happening to go into Mr. Dalton's kitchen, I there saw the portmanteau corded up, and directed; and, on questioning the servant in a careless manner about it, he informed me that he was going to carry it to the inn, the following evening, in readiness for the departure of the waggon. The same afternoon it happened (which was a most fortunate circumstance for me) that Mr. Dalton again begged of me to put some letters in the post-office, which he had not done above twice or thrice since I came into his service. Looking at these letters, I saw, to my surprise, another addressed to Mr. Lyne as before, which, eagerly opening, I found was to mention something Mr. Dalton said he had forgot in his letter of the preceding day. I immediately destroyed this second letter, which, had it come to hand, might have frustrated my design.

"I now prepared matters for eloping, and sent off the remainder of my effects by the coach, as before; but my good fortune produced another windfall, of which I had no expectation. The day before my intended departure, I was walking in the Market-place with a young man, who was clerk to another attorney in the town; and, the conversation turning upon watches, my companion observed that, if I wished to purchase one, he would introduce me to a maker of his acquaintance, who would use me well on his account. I took him at his word, and begged he would immediately do so. We were then within a few doors of the shop, into which we entered; and I perceived over the window in large characters, 'Lumley and Gudgeon, watchmakers.' I laughed inwardly at the singularity of the latter name, which I considered ominous of my success in the imposition I meant to put upon him. After a short preliminary conversation, my acquaintance, having business to do, took his leave, and Mr. Gudgeon himself proceeded to show me several watches. I informed him that I wished to have a good one, but my circumstances would not allow me to go to a high price. Mr. Gudgeon assured me it was better to have a good one at once, and recommended me to a very handsome gilt watch, capped and jewelled, and his own make, which he said he could warrant to perform well, and for which he asked me eight guineas. I replied that, as my weekly salary from Mr. Dalton was but one pound, I could not afford to give so much, and began to examine others of a cheaper kind, but still letting him see that I had a strong inclination for the one he had recommended. This induced him to repeat his praises of the latter, and to press me with greater energy to fix upon it. I at length (with a show of much reluctance) suffered myself to be persuaded; but I begged leave to observe, that as I was influenced in everything by the advice of my good master, Mr. Dalton, I would not venture to make so extensive a purchase without his approbation: that, if he would therefore entrust me with the watch, I would consult Mr. Dalton, and give him (Mr. Gudgeon) a decisive answer the next morning: this he declared himself willing to do, on which I took both the watch and my leave together, and returned home.

"The next morning I attended the office as usual, but of course took no notice to Mr. Dalton of the affair in hand. During the space of time I allotted myself for dinner, I again called on Mr. Gudgeon, and told him that I would keep the watch, provided he should receive the payment by instalments, as I could not afford to pay the whole price at once. I therefore proposed to give him the ensuing Saturday one or two guineas, as I should find most convenient, and to pay him half-a-guinea a week afterwards, until the whole was liquidated. To this he readily agreed, and, having fitted a key to the watch, he begged leave to show me some chains and seals. Of the former he had none but gilt ones: I selected one of the neatest, and a handsome gold seal. I then desired to have a bill of parcels of the whole, observing that, whenever I paid a sum upon account, Mr. Gudgeon could make a memorandum of it at the bottom by way of receipt. Having obtained this, I departed, promising to be punctual in paying my first instalment on the day appointed. This took place on Tuesday, the portmanteau being now on its way to London; and the same evening I quitted my lodgings privately, leaving nothing behind but a trunk, containing brick-bats and stones, and walked by moonlight to a village four miles distant, through which the stage-coach was to pass next morning at seven o'clock. I procured some supper at a decent public-house, and retired to rest, desiring to be called in time for the coach. At the expected hour the stage made its appearance, in which I seated myself, and about eight the same evening arrived at the Blue Boar, just two hours after the waggon, which I perceived standing in the yard."

He received the portmanteau with little difficulty, and having disposed of its contents in various ways, lived upon the produce for five or six weeks, at the termination of which he thought it right to look out for a new situation. He found one in the office of Mr. Preston, solicitor; and with the imprudence of dishonest persons, entered upon it, though the office was next door to Dalton and Edwards, who had sent him down to Bury St. Edmund's. He was soon recognised by a clerk of Messrs. Dalton and Edwards, and, being called into the parlour by Mr. Preston one morning, he was surprised at seeing his late master, who snatched the watch out of his fob, and promised to restore it to the owner. Vaux was then taken into custody; but a friend of his grandfather having come forward, and indemnified Mr. Dalton for his loss, he was suffered to go at large, on a promise that he would quit London, where he was likely to come to disgrace and infamy, and endeavour to obtain employment in the country.

The country had no charms for him, however, and he set about procuring a situation in some retail shop in town, for the sole purpose of embezzling the receipts. In consequence of an advertisement in a newspaper, he applied to a Mr. Gifford, the keeper of a masquerade warehouse, and there he obtained employment upon a forged representation of his good character. He did not fail at this place in collecting a good booty, and having at length, by means of stealing goods from the shop, and embezzling money which he had received on his master's account, secured about sixty pounds' worth of property, he suddenly absconded and commenced a round of dissipation and gaiety. He had been at large scarcely a fortnight, however, before he was taken into custody at the instance of his late master, and upon his prosecution was committed to the quarter sessions, but there his good fortune aided him, and in consequence of some informality in the proceedings, he was acquitted.

Upon a second appearance at the same bar he was not quite so successful; and it appears that having been detected in the act of picking pockets with a companion named Bromley, they were both secured, and having been convicted, they were on the 23rd September, 1800, sentenced to seven years' transportation. Vaux was sent to Port Jackson in the following May, and there he was assigned to a Mr. Baker, a storekeeper at Hawkesbury, about twenty-six miles from Paramatta, who appointed him his clerk. In consequence of his good conduct during the ensuing three years, he was promoted to a place in the secretary's office, in Sydney, but there, conspiring with his fellows, in the commission of various frauds, he was discovered and sentenced to be worked in a road-gang. During two months he continued in Sydney in this degraded condition, but then he was drafted to Castle Hill, a plantation twenty-four miles in the interior, and there, after about ten months' service, he was appointed clerk to the superintendant of the works. Having subsequently served the office of clerk to the magistrates at Paramatta, he at length, on the 10th February, 1807, returned to England. There he found a woeful change had taken place, his father and his grandmother being dead; and all served to remind him of the sinful course of life he had led, and of his fallen condition. All his resolutions against returning to a dishonest mode of living were however unavailing, and at length he became a professed and a professional thief. In order the better to carry on his new trade, he associated himself with some fellows of dissolute habits, but at length meeting with his old friend Bromley, he resolved to quit his new companions and to pursue his avocation with one accomplice only.

In reference to his future proceedings he says, "Having withdrawn myself from my late companions, I now became very circumspect in my proceedings; and as Bromley had neither the appearance nor the manners of a gentleman, I only made use of him occasionally in the course of my practice, keeping him in the back-ground to receive and carry any articles which I purloined, and never suffering him to converse with or approach me, except in private. I generally spent the mornings, that is from about one to five o'clock P.M. (which are the fashionable hours for shopping) in visiting the shops of jewellers, watchmakers, pawnbrokers, &c. Having conceived hopes that this species of robbery would turn to a good account, and depending upon my own address and appearance, I determined to make a circuit of the town, and not to omit a single shop in either of those branches; and this scheme I actually executed so fully, that I believe I did not leave ten shops untried in all London, for I made a point of commencing every day in a certain street, and going regularly through it on both sides of the way. My practice was to enter a shop and request to look at gold seals, chains, brooches, rings, or any other small articles of value; and, while examining them, and looking the shopkeeper in the face, I contrived by sleight of hand to conceal two or three (sometimes more) in the sleeve of my coat, which was purposely made wide. On some occasions I purchased a trifling article to save appearances; at other times I took a card of the shop, promising to call again; and, as I generally saw the remaining goods returned to the window, or place from whence they were taken, before I left the shop, there was hardly a probability of my being suspected, or of the property being missed. In the course of my career I was never once detected in the fact, though, on two or three occasions so much suspicion arose, that I was obliged to exert all my effrontery and to use very high language, in order, as the cant phrase is, to bounce the tradesman out of it; and my fashionable appearance, and affected anger at his insinuations, had always the effect of convincing him that he was mistaken, and inducing him to apologise for the affront put upon me. I have even sometimes carried away the spoil notwithstanding what had passed; and I have often gone a second and third time to the same shop, with as good success as at the first. To prevent accidents, however, I made it a rule never to enter a second shop with any stolen property about me; for, as soon as I quitted the first, I privately conveyed my booty to Bromley, who was attending my motions in the street, and herein I found him eminently useful. By this course of depredation I acquired on the average about ten pounds a week, though I sometimes neglected shopping for several days together. This was not, indeed, the only pursuit I followed, but was my principal morning's occupation; though, if a favourable opportunity offered of getting a guinea by any other means, I never let it slip. In the evenings I generally attended one of the theatres, where I mixed with the best company in the boxes, and, at the same time that I enjoyed the amusements of the place, I frequently conveyed pocket-books, snuff-boxes, and other portable articles, from the pockets of their proprietors into my own. Here I found the inconvenience of wanting a suitable companion, who might have received the articles I made prize of, in the same manner as Bromley did in the streets; but though I knew many of the light-fingered gentry, whose appearance fitted them for my company, yet, their faces being well known to the police-officers, who attended the theatres, they would not have been suffered to enter the house: and herein I possessed an advantage which many of these gentry envied me; for being just arrived in England, and a new face upon the town, I carried on my depredations under the very noses of the officers without suspicion. Having, therefore, at first no associate, I was obliged to quit the theatre, and conceal my first booty in some private spot, before I could make (with prudence) a second attempt. Upon the whole, I was very successful in this pursuit also, at least as to the number of articles I filched; and had their value been reasonably proportionate to what I expected, I need not long have followed so hazardous an employment. I have very frequently obtained nine or ten pocket-books, besides other articles in an evening; and, these being taken from gentlemen evidently of fortune and fashion, I had reason to expect I should some time meet with a handsome sum in bank-notes: but fortune did not favour me therein, for, during near twelve months' almost nightly attendance at one or other of the public places, I never found more than twenty pounds in a book, and that only on one occasion. I several times got five, ten, or eleven pounds, but commonly one, two, or three pounds; and most generally four books out of five contained nothing but letters, memorandums, and other papers useless to me. At the same time I knew frequent instances of the common street pickpockets getting a booty of fifty, one hundred, and sometimes three or four hundred pounds. However, I never failed to pay the expenses of the night; and if I gained nothing, I enjoyed at least a fund of amusement, which was to me the highest gratification. It sometimes happened that the articles I got (particularly pocket-books) were advertised by the losers, within a few days, as "Lost," and a reward offered for their restoration: where this reward was worth notice, I frequently restored the property by means of a third person whom I could confide in, and whom I previously tutored for the purpose.

"In the mean time, the manner in which I spent my life, abstracted from the disgraceful means by which I supported myself, was (as I have formerly hinted) perfectly regular and inoffensive. Though I lived by depredation, yet I did not, like the abandoned class of common thieves, waste my money and leisure time in profligate debauchery, but applied myself to the perusal of instructive and amusing books, my stock of which I daily increased. I occupied genteel apartments in a creditable house, the landlord of which understood me to hold a situation under government; and every part of my conduct at home tended to confirm his opinion of my respectability. I was scrupulously exact in paying my rent, as well as the different tradesmen in the neighbourhood with whom I had occasion to deal; nor did I ever suffer any person of loose character to visit me, but studiously concealed from those of my acquaintance my place of residence. I was sometimes, indeed, so imprudent as to resort, for company's sake, to some of those public-houses frequented by thieves and other dissolute characters, the landlord of which is himself commonly an experienced thief, or returned transport. When I had a mind to relax a little, or grew tired of domestication, I disguised my appearance as much as I could, and repaired to a house of this description, sometimes taking my Dulcinea with me, whom I shall shortly introduce to the reader, and whose person and dress I was not a little proud of exhibiting in public. This fondness for flash-houses, as they are termed, is the rock on which most persons who live by depredation unhappily split, and will be found in the sequel to have brought me to my present deplorable condition; for the police-officers, or traps, are in the daily habit of visiting these houses, where they drink with the thieves, &c., in the most familiar manner; and, I believe, often obtain secret information by various means from some parties respecting the names, characters, pursuits, &c., of others. By this imprudent conduct I also became personally known to many of the officers, which was productive of great danger to me in the exercise of my vocation; whereas, had I avoided such houses, I might have remained unknown and unsuspected by them for a series of years."

The Dulcinea alluded to above was an unhappy girl of the town, whom he took into keeping, and afterwards married. This poor creature behaved to him in the most exemplary manner, and proved by her conduct that she was worthy of a better fate.

Going one day to a public meeting at the Mermaid Tavern, Hackney, he picked a gentleman's pocket of a silver snuff-box, which he handed to the landlady. The box was missed by the owner, and on Vaux claiming it, he was taken into custody; but such is the glorious uncertainty of the law, that he was acquitted on his trial, contrary to his own expectation.

"The next adventure," says Vaux, "I shall have occasion to relate, more fully confirms the justice of the remark, that the connexions formed by persons during temporary confinement in a gaol commonly lead to further acts of wickedness, and frequently entail on the parties a more severe punishment than that which they have just escaped. This was exactly my unhappy case, and I now come to the most fatal era of my eventful life.

"In the same ward with myself were confined two brothers, very genteel young men, who had been recently cast for death for privately stealing some valuable rings, &c., from the shop of a jeweller in Leadenhall Street. As a conformity of character, or similarity of pursuits, is the strongest source of friendship, so these persons and myself had become very intimately acquainted. In the course of our frequent conversations on the subject with which we were all three alike most conversant, the brothers informed me that they had, like myself, made a successful tour of the jewellers' shops in London: and on our comparing notes as to the particular persons we had robbed, or attempted to rob, they pointed out about half-a-dozen shops, which, it appeared, I had omitted to visit, arising either from their making no display of their goods, or from their being situated in private streets, where I had no idea of finding any such trades. Though at that time neither they nor myself entertained much hope of my acquittal, it was agreed that, in the event of my being so fortunate as to recover my freedom, I should pay my respects to the several tradesmen I had so overlooked; and I promised, in case I was successful, to make them a pecuniary acknowledgment in return for their information. At the moment of my joyful departure from Newgate, they accordingly furnished me with a list of the shops in question, and gave me full instructions and useful hints for my guidance therein. They particularly pointed out a Mr. Bilger, a goldsmith and jeweller of the first eminence in Piccadilly. This gentleman, they assured me, I should find, in the technical phrase, a good flat. They advised me to bespeak a diamond ring, or similar article, and to request a sight of some loose diamonds, for the purpose of selecting such stones as I might wish to have set, informing me that he was generally provided with a large quantity, which he would not fail to show me, and that I might with ease purloin a good number of them. A day or two after my release I made the prescribed experiments, and was fortunate enough to succeed pretty well at nearly every shop; but I reserved Mr. Bilger for my final essay, as he was the principal object of consideration, and from whom I expected to obtain the most valuable booty. On the day se'nnight after my trial at the Old Bailey, I prepared in due form to pay him a visit. About five o'clock in the evening I entered his shop, dressed in the most elegant style, having a valuable gold watch and appendages, a gold eye-glass, &c. I had posted my old friend and aid-de-camp, Bromley, at the door, in order to be in readiness to act as circumstances might require, and particularly to watch the motions of Mr. Bilger and his assistants on my quitting the premises. On my entrance Mrs. Bilger issued from a back parlour behind the shop, and, politely inquiring my business, I told her I wished to see Mr. Bilger; she immediately rang a bell, which brought down her husband from the upper apartments. He saluted me with a low bow, and handed me a seat. I was glad to find no other person in the shop, Mrs. Bilger having again retired. I now assumed the air of a Bond Street lounger, and informed Mr. Bilger that I had been recommended by a gentleman of my acquaintance to deal with him, having occasion for a very elegant diamond ring, and requested to see his assortment. Mr. Bilger expressed his concern that he happened not to have a single article of that description by him, but, if I could without inconvenience call again, he would undertake in one hour to procure me a selection from his working jeweller, to whom he would immediately despatch a messenger. I affected to feel somewhat disappointed, but looking at my watch, after a moment's reflection, I said, 'Well, Mr. Bilger, I have an appointment at the Cannon Coffee-house, which requires my attendance, and if you will without fail have the articles ready, I may probably look in a little after six.' This he promised faithfully to do, declaring how much he felt obliged by my condescension; and I sauntered out of the shop, Mr. Bilger attending me in the most obsequious manner to the outer door. After walking a short distance, Bromley tapped me on the shoulder, and inquired what conduct I meant next to pursue; for he had viewed my proceedings through a glass-door in the shop, and saw that I had not executed my grand design. I related to Bromley the result of my conversation with Mr. Bilger, and added that I meant to retire to the nearest public-house, where we could enjoy a pipe and a glass of negus until the expiration of the hour, to which I had limited myself. We accordingly regaled ourselves at a very snug house, nearly opposite Bilger's, until about half-past six, when I again repaired to the scene of action, leaving Bromley, as at first, posted at the door. Mr. Bilger received me with increased respect, and, producing a small card box, expressed his sorrow that his workmen had only been enabled to send three rings for my inspection; but that, if they were not to my taste, he should feel honoured and obliged in taking my directions for having one made, and flattered himself he should execute the order to my satisfaction. I proceeded to examine the rings he produced, one of which was marked sixteen guineas, another nine guineas, and the third six guineas. They were all extremely beautiful; but I affected to consider them as too paltry, telling Mr. Bilger that I wanted one to present to a lady, and that I wished to have a ring of greater value than the whole three put together, as a few guineas would not be an object in the price. Mr. Bilger's son, who was also his partner, now joined us, and was desired by his father to sketch a draught in pencil of some fancy rings, agreeable to the directions I should give him. The three rings I had viewed were now removed to the end of the counter next the window, and I informed the young man that I wished to have something of a cluster, a large brilliant in the centre, surrounded with smaller ones; but repeated my desire that no expense might be spared to render the article strictly elegant, and worthy a lady's acceptance. The son having sketched a design of several rings on a card, I examined them with attention, and appeared in doubt which to prefer, but desired to see some loose diamonds, in order to form a better idea of the size, &c. of each ring described in the drawing. Mr. Bilger, however, declared he had not any by him. It is probable he spoke the truth: or he might have lost such numbers by showing them, as to deter him from exhibiting them in future. Without having made up my mind on the subject, I now requested to see some of his most fashionable brooches or shirt-pins. Mr. Bilger produced a show-glass, containing a variety of articles in pearl, but he had nothing of the kind in diamonds. I took up two or three of the brooches, and immediately sunk a very handsome one, marked three guineas, in my coat sleeve. I next purloined a beautiful clasp for a lady's waist, consisting of stones set in gold, which had the brilliancy and appearance of real diamonds, but marked only four guineas. I should probably have gone still deeper, but at this moment a lady, coming in, desired to look at some ear-rings, and the younger Mr. Bilger immediately quitted his father to attend upon her at the other end of the shop. It struck me that now was my time for a decisive stroke. The card containing the diamond rings, procured from the maker, lying very near the show-glass I was viewing, and many small articles irregularly placed round about them, the candles not throwing much light upon that particular spot, and Mr. Bilger's attention being divided between myself and the lady, to whom he frequently addressed himself, I suddenly took the three rings from the card, and committed them to my sleeve to join the brooch and lady's clasp; but had them so situated that I could in a moment have released and replaced them on the counter, had an inquiry been made for them. I then looked at my watch, and, observing that I was going to the theatre, told Mr. Bilger that I would not trouble him any further, as the articles before me were too tawdry and common to please me, but that I would put the card of draughts in my pocket-book; and, if I did not meet with a ring of the kind I wanted before Monday or Tuesday, I would certainly call again and give him final directions. I was then drawing on my gloves, being anxious to quit the shop while I was well; but Mr. Bilger, who seemed delighted with the prospect of my custom, begged so earnestly that I would allow him to show me his brilliant assortment of gold watches that I could not refuse to gratify him, though I certainly incurred a great risk by my compliance. I therefore answered, 'Really, Mr. Bilger, I am loath to give you that unnecessary trouble, as I have, you may perceive, a very good watch already, in point of performance, though it cost me a mere trifle--only twenty guineas; but it answers my purpose as well as a more valuable one. However, as I may probably, before long, want an elegant watch for a lady, I don't care if I just run my eye over them.' Mr. Bilger replied that the greater part of his stock were fancy watches, adapted for ladies; and he defied all London united to exhibit a finer collection. He then took from his window a show-glass, containing about thirty most beautiful watches, some ornamented with pearls or diamonds, others elegantly enamelled, or chased in the most delicate style. They were of various prices, from thirty to one hundred guineas; and the old gentleman rubbing his hands with an air of rapture, exclaimed, 'There they are, sir; a most fashionable assortment of goods; allow me to recommend them, they're all a-going, sir--all a-going.' I smiled inwardly at the latter part of this speech, and thought to myself, 'I wish they were going, with all my heart, along with the diamond rings.' I answered they were certainly very handsome, but I would defer a minute inspection of them till my next visit, when I should have more time to spare. These watches were ranged in exact order, in five parallel lines; and between each watch was placed a gold seal or other trinket appertaining to a lady's watch. It was no easy matter, therefore, to take away a single article without its being instantly missed, unless the economy of the whole had been previously deranged. I contrived, however, to displace a few of the trinkets, on pretence of admiring them, and ventured to secrete one very rich gold seal, marked six guineas. I then declared I could stay no longer, as I had appointed to meet a party at the theatre; but that I would certainly call again in a few days, and lay out some money in return for the trouble I had given. Mr. Bilger expressed his thanks in the most respectful terms, and waited upon me to the door, where he took leave of me with a very low congé, à la mode de France, of which country he was a native. I now put the best foot foremost, and having gained a remote street, turned my head, and perceived Bromley at my heels, who seized my hand, congratulating me on my success, and complimenting me on the address I had shown in this exploit; for he had witnessed all that passed, and knew that I had succeeded in my object, by the manner in which I quitted the shop. He informed me that Mr. Bilger had returned to his counter, and, without attending to the arrangement of the articles thereon, had joined his son, who was still waiting upon the lady, and that he, Bromley, had finally left them both engaged with her."

Such was his rapacity, that he renewed his visit to Mr. Bilger's shop; but the reception he met satisfied him that he was suspected. He, however, left an order for a splendid ring; and, while the jeweller's son, as Vaux thought, was taking down his directions, he was only writing a description of his person, and a handbill in a few days was widely circulated among the pawnbrokers, peace-officers, &c. A day or two after Vaux called at Turner's--a pawnbroker, in Brydges Street, Covent Garden--to redeem some article he had pledged, when he saw such manoeuvres in the shop as induced him to make a precipitate retreat, and go into concealment.

At length, "necessity," as he says himself, forced him out; and, the first night, he stole, from a shop in Ludgate Street, property to the amount of four or five pounds, with which he was so much pleased that he returned for his wife, and took her out to walk. Contrary to her earnest remonstrance, they went to a flash-house, near Clare Market, where the landlord betrayed him into the hands of justice, and he was hurried off to the watch-house. Next day he underwent an examination at Bow Street, and was remanded. During the interval between his first and second appearance he had completely metamorphosed his person by cutting his hair and whiskers, and putting on a mean suit of clothes. But all would not do; he was recognised through his disguise, and fully committed. His trial came on at the Old Bailey, February the 15th, 1809, and, the facts being sworn to, he was found guilty--death. His sentence was afterwards commuted to transportation for life, preparatory to which he was conveyed on board the Retribution hulk at Woolwich.

"I had now," says Vaux, "a new scene of misery to contemplate; and, of all the shocking scenes I had ever beheld, this was the most distressing. There were confined in this floating dungeon nearly six hundred men, most of them double-ironed, and the reader may conceive the horrible effects arising from the continual rattling of chains, the filth and vermin naturally produced by such a crowd of miserable inhabitants, the oaths and execrations constantly heard among them; and, above all, from the shocking necessity of associating and communicating more or less with so depraved a set of beings. On arriving on board, we were all immediately stripped, and washed in large tubs of water; then, after putting on each a suit of coarse slop clothing, we were ironed, and sent below, our own clothes being taken from us, and detained till we could sell or otherwise dispose of them, as no person is exempted from the obligation to wear the ship-dress. On descending the hatchway, no conception can be formed of the scene which presented itself. I shall not attempt to describe it; but nothing short of a descent to the infernal regions can be at all worthy of a comparison with it. I soon met with many of my old Botany Bay acquaintances, who were all eager to offer me their friendship and services,--that is, with a view to rob me of what little I had; for in this place there is no other motive or subject for ingenuity. All former friendships or connexions are dissolved, and a man here will rob his best benefactor, or even messmate, of an article worth one halfpenny. Every morning, at seven o'clock, all the convicts capable of work, or, in fact, all who are capable of getting into the boats, are taken ashore to the Warren, in which the Royal Arsenal and other public buildings are situated, and are there employed at various kinds of labour, some of them very fatiguing; and, while so employed, each gang of sixteen or twenty men is watched and directed by a fellow called a guard. These guards are most commonly of the lowest class of human beings; wretches devoid of all feeling; ignorant in the extreme; brutal by nature, and rendered tyrannical and cruel by the consciousness of the power they possess: no others, but such as I have described, would hold the situation, their wages being not more than a day-labourer would earn in London. They invariably carry a large and ponderous stick, with which, without the smallest provocation, they will fell an unfortunate convict to the ground, and frequently repeat their blows long after the poor sufferer is insensible. At noon the working party return on board to dinner, and at one again go on shore, where they labour till near sun-set. On returning on board in the evening, all hands are mustered by a roll, and the whole being turned down below, the hatches are put over them, and secured for the night. As to the food, the stipulated ration is very scanty, but of even part of that they are defrauded. Their provisions, being supplied by contractors, and not by government, are of the worst kind, such as would not be considered eatable or wholesome elsewhere; and both the weight and measure are always deficient. The allowance of bread is said to be about twenty ounces per day. Three days in the week they have about four ounces of cheese for dinner, and the other four days a pound of beef. The breakfast is invariably boiled barley, of the coarsest kind imaginable; and of this the pigs of the hulk come in for a third part, because it is so nauseous that nothing but downright hunger will enable a man to eat it. For supper, they have, on banyan days, burgoo, of as good a quality as the barley, and which is similarly disposed of; and on meat days, the water in which the beef was boiled is thickened with barley, and forms a mess called 'smiggins,' of a more detestable nature than either of the two former! The reader may conceive that I do not exaggerate when I state that among the convicts the common price of these several eatables is,--for a day's allowance of beef, one halfpenny;--ditto, of cheese, one halfpenny;--ditto, of bread, three-halfpence; but the cheese is most commonly so bad that they throw it away. It is manufactured, I believe, of skimmed milk, for this particular contract. The beef generally consists of old bulls or cows who have died of age or famine; the least trace of fat is considered a phenomenon, and it is far inferior upon the whole to good horse-flesh. I once saw the prisoners throw the whole day's supply overboard the moment it was hoisted out of the boat, and for this offence they were severely flogged. The friends of these unhappy persons are not allowed to come on board, but must remain alongside during their visit; the prisoners are, it is true, suffered to go into their boat, but a guard is placed within hearing of their conversation; and if a friend or parent has come one hundred miles, they are not allowed above ten minutes' interview: so that, instead of consolation, the visit only excites regret at the parties being so suddenly torn asunder. All letters, too, written by prisoners, must be delivered unsealed to the chief mate for his inspection, before they are sent ashore; and such as he thinks obnoxious are of course suppressed. In like manner, all letters received from the post-office are opened and scrutinised. If I were to attempt a full description of the miseries endured in these ships, I could fill a volume; but I shall sum up all by stating that besides robbery from each other, which is as common as cursing and swearing, I witnessed among the prisoners themselves, during the twelvemonth I remained with them, one deliberate murder, for which the perpetrator was executed at Maidstone, and one suicide; and that unnatural crimes are openly committed."

From the misery of the hulks he was removed on the 15th of June 1810, for the second time, to Botany Bay. His wife, who had all along manifested the utmost attention, was prevented by a succession of unfortunate circumstances from seeing him previous to his departure; nor does it appear that he knew what become of her afterwards. On the 16th of the following December, the transport arrived at Sydney Cove, where Vaux found that the report of his exploits in London had preceded him. He endeavoured to make interest with the governor, in the hope of being employed as a clerk; but this being his second visit, he was listened to with distrust, and was sent up the country to a settler, who used him with great barbarity. To escape from this tyranny Vaux feigned himself sick, and thus procured his removal to the hospital, from which he was discharged in a month, and appointed overseer to a town gang. He now resolved to lead a correct life, and establish, if possible, a character for himself, seeing, as he says, the necessity of good conduct, from the consequences that invariably attend on an improper one. If we believe him, he adhered firmly to his vows of rectitude; but his notorious character operated against him, and he fell a victim to prejudice and the depravity of a youth, who was a veteran in iniquity. This young villain's name was Edwards. He was servant to Mr. Bent the judge-advocate, from whom he purloined bills and money. Vaux, suspecting his dishonesty, warned him of his danger; but the artful thief accounted for his being so flush in money by the presents he was in the habit of receiving from his master's visitors.

One evening he came running into Vaux's lodgings, and requested of him to keep some articles and parcels which he put into his hand. Vaux at first refused, but was ultimately prevailed on to keep them for a few minutes. Edwards had scarcely departed when he thought he did wrong, and acquainted his landlord with the transaction. That person desired him to go immediately and deliver the property up to the judge-advocate in a public manner, as the only way left him to escape being implicated with Edwards, and with this advice Vaux resolved to comply, but having stopped first to smoke a pipe, before he had finished it, two officers entered and apprehended him. His conduct was open, and his landlord deposed in his favour; but Edwards accused him, in revenge for giving up the property, of being an accomplice, and he was finally banished to the Coal River, where he continued doing all kind of work for two years, after which he was permitted to return to Sydney, where he was once more placed in the town-gang.

Again he renewed his vows of rectitude, but was unable to obtain any station less degrading than the one in which he was placed. The picture before him was disheartening in the extreme--an exile for life--and compelled to labour at the basest and lowest employment of mankind. A British sailor took compassion on him and offered, in 1814, to conceal him in his vessel, until she should sail, and he embraced the generous proposal; but after lying close and undiscovered for four days, some one on board gave information, and the unfortunate wretch was dragged ashore, punished with fifty lashes, and sentenced to transportation to the Coal River for one year.

"In a few days," says he in his Memoirs, "I was accordingly embarked with eleven other prisoners, and a second time landed at Newcastle, from whence I had been absent nearly twelve months. On my arrival, it happened that the storekeeper of that settlement was in want of a clerk, and he applying to the commandant for me, I was appointed to that situation, in which I still continue; and having scrupulously adhered to my former vows of rectitude, and used every exertion to render myself serviceable to my employer, and to merit his good opinion as well as that of the commandant. I have had the satisfaction to succeed in these objects; and I am not without hope that, when I am permitted to quit my present service and return to Sydney, my good conduct will be rewarded with a more desirable situation. I have now been upwards of seven years a prisoner, and, knowing the hopeless sentence under which I labour, I shall, I trust, studiously avoid in future every act which may subject me to the censure of my superiors, or entail upon me a repetition of those sufferings I have already too severely experienced. I have thus described (perhaps too minutely for the reader's patience) the various vicissitudes of my past life. Whether the future will be so far diversified as to afford matter worthy of being committed to paper, either to amuse a vacant hour, or to serve as a beacon which may warn others to avoid the rocks on which I have unhappily split, is only known to the great Disposer of events."

The "Memoirs written by himself," from which we have extracted the most interesting passages, here terminate.

We have been the more willing to give the adventures of this notorious villain, as he gives them,--although we confess that we are of opinion that there is some exaggeration in what he states--because, however great may be the depravity, of which he admits he was guilty, his punishments and his miseries convey a moral, most forcibly depicting the danger of such a line of conduct as he adopted. His memoirs were written by himself in the year 1816, and were published in London in about three years afterwards. Of his subsequent career we know little, but we learn by recent accounts received from Sydney, that this hoary old sinner, at the age of fifty-seven, has been convicted and sentenced to an imprisonment of two years' duration, upon a charge of indecently assaulting a girl of tender age. Whatever may have been his course of life in later years, however frightful may have been his career of sin in his younger days, we hold that this new offence, of which he has been found guilty, is the crowning crime of the whole; and we regret that the human heart should have arrived at such a degree of profligacy as to admit the guilt of youth, and to be unable to withstand its temptation, in old age.

JOHN WHITMORE, alias OLD DASH.

EXECUTED FOR A RAPE.

The summary punishment of a ravisher, by a conscientious Emperor of the Turks, in days of old, if now, perchance, inflicted, might more tend to check the inordinate, unlawful lust of men, than all the public executions of such destroyers of the peace of females.

It is said that Mahmoud, Sultan of Damascus, one night while he was going to bed, was addressed by a poor villager, who complained that a young Turk of distinction had broken into his apartment, and forced him to abandon his wife and family to his abuses. The good sultan charged that, if the Turk returned, he should immediately give him notice of it. Three days after the poor man came again with the same complaint. Mahmoud took a few attendants with him, and, being arrived at the complainant's, commanded the lights to be extinguished, and rushing in, cut the ravisher to pieces. He then ordered a light, to see whom he had killed, and being satisfied, he fell on his knees and returned God thanks; after which he ate heartily of the poor man's bread, and gave him a purse of gold. Being asked the reason of this extraordinary behaviour, he replied, "I concluded this ravisher was one who might fancy himself entitled to my protection, and consequently might be no other than my son; therefore, lest the tenderness of nature should enervate the arm of justice, I resolved to give it scope in the dark. But, when I saw that it was only an officer of my guards, I joyfully returned God thanks. Then I asked the injured man for food to satisfy my hunger, having had neither sleep nor sustenance from the moment I heard the accusation till I had thus punished the author of the wrong, and showed myself worthy of my people's obedience."

Upon the same principle as that acted upon by the worthy Turkish sultan, the hut of the meanest peasant is, by the law of England, as sacred as the most gorgeous palace, and the chastity of his wife or daughter should be held inviolate. The instances of disobedience to the laws in this respect are but too frequent, and in no case have circumstances of greater atrocity appeared than in that which we shall now detail.

John Whitmore was capitally indicted for a rape on the person of Mary, the wife of Thomas Brown, on the 24th of October, 1810, on the Common between Hayes and West Bedford. The prisoner was a labourer in the powder-mills at Harlington Common; and the prosecutrix, who lived at Hayes, having one of her sons by a former husband living as servant with Mr. Potts, a farmer, at West Bedford, had gone thither about twelve o'clock with some clean linen for him. She stopped at a public-house in the neighbourhood whilst he changed his linen, and there saw the prisoner, who, after asking her several questions, told her she had come much the longest way about, on her way from Hayes, and offered to show her a much shorter cut over the heath on her return. The prosecutrix thanked him, and accepted his offer. He accompanied her as if for that purpose, decoyed her two miles out of her way to an unfrequented part of the heath, amongst some bushes, under pretence of looking after a stray horse, and there brutally violated her person.

The poor woman, who was forty-seven years of age, as soon as she could, ran away from him, over the heath, and again lost her way; by accident she met a gentleman, who put her in the right road, and she reached her home about eight o'clock at night. She was afraid to tell her husband what had occurred till the following Sunday.

The husband next day set out with the constable in search of the prisoner, from the description given by his wife, and on Tuesday traced him to a public-house at Twickenham, where he was known by the familiar appellation of "Old Dasher;" and there, after a stout resistance, he was taken into custody. The facts were, on his trial, which took place at the Old Bailey, in October 1810, clearly established by the poor woman, and the Common Serjeant having summed up the evidence, the prisoner was convicted and received sentence of death, in pursuance of which he was subsequently executed.

AGNES ADAMS.

IMPRISONED FOR UTTERING A FORGED NOTE.

For three or four years previous to this trial, numberless impositions had been practised upon the unwary in the metropolis, by the passing of paper manufactured in imitation of the notes of the Bank of England, which were traced to have originated in the Fleet Prison, a receptacle for debtors only.

The notes, it seems, were printed on paper similar to those of the Bank of England; but upon the slightest inspection they were easily detected. The great success of sharpers passing them chiefly arose from the hurry of business, and from the novelty of the fraud. The shopkeeper would see the word one, two, three, &c., an exact imitation of the genuine notes, but did not examine farther, or he would have found, instead of pounds, the counterfeit expressed pence; and instead of "Governor and Company of the Bank of England," the words "Governor and Company of the Bank of Fleet," substituted. The offence of publishing these notes, however, was not deemed a forgery.

The circulation of Fleet paper was generally intrusted to profligate women, who cohabited with the men who made them. This mode was less suspicious, and in a single year had been carried on to a considerable amount.

Of this description, and we could adduce many such, was Agnes Adams who, in passing one of such notes, filled up with the words "two pence," as a two-pound Bank of England note, to Mr. Spratz, a publican of St. John Street, Clerkenwell, was by him detected, seized, prosecuted and convicted at the Middlesex Sessions, 1811. The punishment could only be extended to six months' hard labour in the House of Correction.

The fraternity of thieves about London have fabricated cant names for the different articles which they steal. The Fleet notes were called "Flash Screens."

RICHARD ARMITAGE AND CHARLES THOMAS.

EXECUTED FOR FORGERY.

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