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 5 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 5 of 5)

The crime for which these men justly suffered was a forgery of the very worst description, having for its effect a scandalous breach of public trust--a robbery upon the very corporation which they were bound to protect from the nefarious attempts of others.

It appears that they were connected with a person named Roberts, who was apprehended on a charge of swindling, on which he was remanded from the police-office to Coldbath-Fields' Prison, in the year 1810. In a few days he succeeded in making his escape from the jail, in company with a man named Harper, by the most extraordinary means. From the evidence adduced before the magistrates, before whom an inquiry into the escape took place, it appeared that the prisoners were locked up in the usual way at night, but that in the morning they were found to have escaped. On the jail being examined, six gates which had been locked were found standing open, and it was discovered that the prisoners had completed their design by scaling the outer wall, which they had ascended by means of the scaffolding round a lodge which was in the course of being built, and from which they had reached the ground by means of a rope which was found still hanging on the outside. The most anxious inquiries were made after Roberts, but it was not until the month of April 1811 that he was discovered at a tavern at Vauxhall, where he had passed himself off as a country attorney, and was taken into custody. He then, to save his own life, impeached the partners in his villany, and Armitage and Thomas, who were clerks in the Bank of England, were in consequence secured. Armitage was first taken, and he was examined at Marlborough-street, and committed for trial on charges of forging dividend warrants to the amount of £2400; and Thomas was almost immediately afterwards apprehended, and committed on the same charges.

At the ensuing Sessions they were put on their trial, when the case proved against them was, that they were bank clerks in the Imperial Annuity Office, and that they had forged a warrant to obtain the dividends due upon a sum of money belonging to a person who had been dead three years, and whose executors had not applied for the property. In pursuance of the warrants forged in this case the amount paid was £360, and the prisoner Thomas signed the book as an attesting witness. The case was proved by Roberts and his wife, whose testimony, however, was corroborated by that of other witnesses, and the prisoners were found guilty and were sentenced to death.

The unhappy men were executed on the 24th of June, 1811, at the Old Bailey, pursuant to their sentence. Armitage, from severe illness, was supported to the scaffold by a friend; he was also accompanied by a clergyman, to whose admonitions he appeared to pay great attention. His companion was a catholic, and was attended by a priest of that persuasion. He exhibited great fortitude.

The secret of Roberts' escape was not discovered for a considerable time afterwards, when he was induced to confess, that through the means of a bribe offered to the person who swept the cells, he was enabled to procure impressions in wax of the keys which would be required to open the doors through which he and his fellow-prisoner would have to pass. Having obtained these, he soon got keys made, and he was assisted in his flight by this "friend at court." It was supposed, however, that he had some other more powerful ally than a sweeper, and considerable changes in the management of the jail were subsequently made.

The punishment for the crime of forgery, a few years only before this time, was much less severe than that which was now inflicted, the increase of the offence having rendered an alteration in its severity necessary. It would appear, however, that the efforts of legislators produced anything but the desired effect, the frequency of the offence being increased instead of diminished. The ancient punishment for this crime we find thus minutely described in a London periodical publication for the year 1731:--

"June 9th.--This day, about noon, Japhet Crook, alias St. Peter Stranger, was brought to the pillory at Charing Cross, according to his sentence for forgery. He stood an hour thereon; after which a chair was set on the pillory; and he being put therein, the hangman with a sort of pruning-knife cut off both his ears, and immediately a surgeon clapped a styptic thereon. Then the executioner, with a pair of scissors, cut his left nostril twice before it was quite through, and afterwards cut through the right nostril at once. He bore all this with great patience; but when, in pursuance of his sentence, his right nostril was seared with a red-hot iron, he was in such violent pain that his left nostril was let alone, and he went from the pillory bleeding. He was conveyed from thence to the King's Bench Prison, there to remain for life. He died in confinement about three years after."

JANE COX.

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

The practice of apothecaries selling poison in their shops to strangers, who purchase it under the pretence of its having to be employed in killing rats, is one which cannot be too severely reprobated, and even punished. In Mantua of old, it appears from Shakspeare's Romeo and Juliet, that it was an offence punishable with death, for the Apothecary says,

"Such mortal drugs I have, but Mantua's law Is death to any he that utters them;"

and the peace and safety of society might be secured, and crime and suicide rendered much less frequent, if some such provision were made in England.

On the subject of selling poison for the purpose of committing murder, we find, from "Hill's Journey through Sicily and Calabria," that in the year 1791, at Palermo, a city not far distant from Mantua, an old woman was executed for dealing out such mortal drugs.

"Many people in this town and neighbourhood," (Palermo,) says this author, "died in a sudden and extraordinary manner; they were generally seized with vomiting, and expired in a few hours. A young woman went to an officer of justice to make some complaints concerning her husband; he desired her to be reconciled, and refused to proceed against him, upon which she turned away in a rage, muttering that she knew how to be revenged. The magistrate paid attention to what she said, and gave orders for her being arrested; when, upon strict inquiry concerning the meaning of her word, she confessed that it was her intention to poison her husband, by purchasing a bottle of vinegar from an old woman, who prepared it for that purpose. In order to ascertain the truth of this story, another woman was sent to the old jade, to demand some of the vinegar, which was sold for about ten pence a bottle. 'What do you want with it?' said the vender: 'Why,' replied the other, 'I have a very bad husband, and I want to get rid of him.' Hereupon the old woman, seventy-two years of age, produced the fatal dose; upon which she was immediately seized, and conducted to prison, where she confessed that she had sold forty-five or forty-six bottles. Many people were taken up; but as, upon further inquiry, it was discovered that several of the nobility had been purchasers, the affair was dropped, and the old woman alone suffered death."

To proceed, however, to the case of the unfortunate prisoner whose name heads this article. On the 9th of August, 1811, she was indicted at the Assizes for the county of Devon, for the wilful murder of John Trenaman, an infant sixteen months old; and Arthur Tucker was indicted as an accessory before the fact.

The latter was a respectable farmer, living at Hatherleigh, in Devonshire; and the infant was his natural child. It appeared that Jane Cox had, on the 25th of May, 1811, administered to the child a quantity of arsenic, by putting it into the child's hands, which it put into its mouth and ate, and in consequence died in about two hours. The prisoner, in her written confession, had implicated Tucker, as having persuaded her to commit this act, and stated that he had taken the arsenic from under the roof of a cottage, and given it to her, and promised her a one-pound note if she would administer it to the child.

The prisoner, Jane Cox, after a trial of seven hours was convicted; but Tucker, who called a number of respectable witnesses who gave him a very high character, was acquitted, the woman's story being unsupported by evidence, and being disbelieved.

On Monday the 12th of August, 1811, pursuant to her sentence, the unfortunate woman was brought to the "new drop," the place of execution, and underwent the sentence of the law.

She addressed the spectators at some length, and in a very audible manner; she repeated her former confession, with some further particulars respecting the means used by Tucker to prevail on her to commit the horrid deed, for which she acknowledged she ought to die, but lamented that the person who had instigated her to the commission of it was not also to suffer with her.

MICHAEL WHITING.

EXECUTED FOR POISONING HIS BROTHERS-IN-LAW.

Crime has different shades; but a deeper dye cannot be given to it, than when one in the assumed robe of sanctity attempts to dip his hands in human blood, particularly when that blood is united to him by ties of consanguinity.

Michael Whiting lived at Downham, where he occasionally preached, being a Methodist parson; but as the bounty of those who listened to his pious exhortations was not very large, he endeavoured to add to his resources by keeping a shop in which he sold bread, meal, &c. and also drugs, being at once a comforter of the soul and body.

This hypocrite had two brothers-in-law, named George and Joseph Langman, who resided on a small farm near Downham. They were both under age, and had two sisters, one of whom was married to Whiting, and the other, aged ten years, lived with her brothers. To possess himself of the small estate of these youths, Whiting had recourse to a most diabolical plan.

The little sister was sent to his shop for some bread, and, learning from her that the housekeeper of the brothers was about going from home for a few days, he affected much kindness, and promised paying them a visit. He did so, and with unusual liberality brought with him materials for making a pudding or two, observing to the housekeeper, "Catherine, be sure you make the boys a pudding before you go." After doling out a few texts of Scripture, which he had ready on all occasions, and which he applied with about as much judgment as Sancho Panza did his proverbs, he departed, taking with him the little girl, tenderly remarking that her sister would take better care of her than her brothers, during the housekeeper's absence.

Catherine made the puddings; but remarked, during the process, that the dough would not properly adhere, and when she departed she left them in a kneading-trough. The brothers, not suspecting that any mischief was intended, boiled one of the puddings for dinner, and when properly done, sat down to partake of it; but before they had swallowed three mouthfuls, they were seized with violent vomitings. Suspecting that the pudding was poisoned, they threw a small piece of it to a sow in the yard; which she had scarcely swallowed, when the poor animal was taken sick, and after lingering a short time died.

The elder brother, by the application of proper medicine, soon recovered; but the younger lingered for a long time ere he regained his health. The pudding was now analysed by a professor of chemistry, who found it to contain a large quantity of corrosive sublimate of mercury, and no other poisonous ingredient,--a fact which destroyed the defence set up by Whiting, that he had laid some nux vomica for rats, some of which he supposed had got among the meal.

For this offence Whiting was indicted at the Isle of Ely Assizes, on Thursday the 5th of March, 1811; when, in addition to the above facts, it was proved that, in the event of the Langmans' death, he would come in for their property, in right of his wife, as the next heiress of her brothers.

The trial lasted till six o'clock in the evening, when the jury retired, and, after a deliberation of ten minutes, found the prisoner Guilty, when he was immediately sentenced to be hanged.

HARRIET MAGNIS.

TRIED FOR CHILD STEALING.

The offence for which this woman was tried was one which, at the time of its commission, attracted a very considerable degree of attention. The child stolen was the offspring of a respectable couple living in Martin's-lane, in the City, named Dellow; and it appears that he was playing with his little sister in the neighbourhood of his mother's house, when he was suddenly missed, and all tidings of him were lost. A woman, it was proved, had been seen in the neighbourhood immediately before the child was lost, and suspicion rested upon her; but although the most vigilant search was made, her person could never be identified.

Suspicion first fell upon an innocent lady, the wife of a surgeon in the navy, and, after two examinations of several witnesses, all of whom mistook her person, she was committed for trial at the Old Bailey.

On her trial, however, she was acquitted, as indeed there appeared to be no proof of her identity, and the case was still pervaded by the same uncertainty as before.

At length the mystery began to develop itself. The first information received in London was from a magistrate in Gosport, acquainting Mr. and Mrs. Dellow of the discovery that their child was safe there, and ready to be delivered to its parents. The father instantly set off, and soon after returned home with his son, when he was required to appear before the Lord Mayor of London, where he found William Barber, the keeper of the Gosport prison, ready to give evidence against a woman of that town of the name of Harriet Magnis, in whose possession the child was found.

This man having seen a hand-bill describing the child, got information that it was at Gosport, and went to the lodgings of Mrs. Magnis, who lived in a very respectable way. He asked her if she had a child, and if it was her own; to which she replied, rather faintly, that it was; but upon his saying that he doubted it, and desiring to see the child, she took him very readily to the room where it was in bed, and confessed to him that she had found the boy in London.

She afterwards, however, confessed the whole affair, and her motive for the robbery. She said that her husband, who was a gunner on board one of his Majesty's ships, and had saved a considerable sum of money for a man in his station of life, was extremely partial to children, and had often expressed his most anxious wish to have a little darling, as he used to term it. His wife, not less anxious to gratify him in this respect, wrote to him while at sea, that she was in the family way. The gunner, highly delighted that he had obtained his desired object, sent home the earnings of many a cruise, amounting to three hundred pounds, with a particular charge that the infant should be well rigged, and want for nothing; if a boy, so much the better.

The next letter from his hopeful wife announced the happy tidings that his first-born was a son; and that she would name him Richard, after his father. The husband expressed his joy at the news, and counted the tedious hours until he should be permitted to come home to his wife and child.

At home he at length arrived, but at an unfortunate time, when the dear Richard was out at nurse, at a considerable distance; change of air being necessary to the easy cutting of his teeth. The husband's time being short, he left England with a heavy heart, without being able to see his offspring; but he was assured that on his next trip to Gosport he should have the felicity he had so often pined for, of clasping his darling to his bosom. It was not until November 1810 that he was at liberty to revisit home, when he had again the mortification to find that his son, whom he expected to see a fine boy of three years old, had not yet cut his teeth, or that he was from home on some other pretence. The husband, however, was not to be pacified thus: he would go and see his son, or his son should come to him. Mrs. Magnis, finding him determined, thought the latter the much better way, and accordingly set off to fetch the boy. The metropolis occurred to her as the market best calculated to afford her a choice of children; and, passing down Martin's-lane, she was struck with the rosy little citizen, Tommy Dellow, and at once determined to make him her prize. He was playing with his sister at the greengrocer's shop-door, into which Mrs. Magnis went, with the double view of purchasing some apples, and carrying off the boy. She made much of the sister, caressed the boy, and gave him an apple. The children being pleased with her attention, she asked the little girl to show her to a pastry-cook's shop to buy some cakes, when she got clear off with the boy, and left the girl behind.

Poor Magnis felt a parental affection for the boy; and when the imposition was discovered before the magistrate, he was grieved to the heart at being obliged to part with him under all the circumstances of the transaction.

The woman, upon evidence being produced of these facts, was committed to Winchester jail for trial; but at the assizes she escaped, on account of her being indicted in the wrong county, the felony having been committed in London.

BENJAMIN WALSH, ESQ., M.P.

TRIED FOR FELONY.

The name of Mr. Walsh was long known in the City as that of a daring mercantile speculator; and it appears that having thrown himself into considerable difficulties, he succeeded in wiping them all off by a commission of bankruptcy, and almost immediately afterwards obtained a seat in Parliament.

Among the dignified members of the House of Commons, Sir Thomas Plomer seemed to entertain an opinion of Mr. Walsh which was in no degree altered by his recent transactions, and he intrusted him with £22,000 to purchase government securities for him. Mr. Walsh, however, laid out the greater part of the money in the stocks of the United States of America on his own account, and endeavoured to flee to that land of refuge for the guilty, but was overtaken by the arm of justice at the very port from which he intended to sail from his native country. He was unfortunately for his own design too pertinacious of his privilege of franking letters, and he continued even while flying from London, when one would have supposed he would have endeavoured to remain unknown, to despatch letters to his friends indorsed "Free, B. Walsh." These communications being stopped by an order of the government, the course of his flight was discovered, and he was followed to Falmouth by a Bow-street runner, and the solicitor of Sir Thomas Plomer, by whom he was secured and brought to London.

He was indicted at the ensuing Old Bailey Sessions for the offence of stealing the money, when Mr. Garrow appeared for the prosecution, and Mr. Scarlett for the defence.

Upon the witnesses being examined, Sir Thomas Plomer stated that he had given the money to the prisoner for the express purpose of purchasing exchequer bills. He had given it to him in a check, for which he got cash. The prisoner did afterwards lodge £6000 of the bills at Sir Thomas's bankers.

Mr. Scarlett, in addressing the Court for the defence, hoped he should not be understood to entertain any other sentiments of this offence than a conviction of the moral turpitude of the prisoner; and he was satisfied the prisoner himself entertained no other sentiment, and felt all the contrition belonging to such a crime; but it now became his duty to make such objections as occurred to him:--First, there could be no charge of this sort for stealing the check, for it was in evidence that the prosecutor had given it to the prisoner for a specific purpose; and it was not altogether misapplied, for he had purchased some exchequer bills, and the law did not allow the act of felony to be in part separated. The second objection was under the statute of the second year of the reign of George II. by which the security intended by the legislature was given to such property as was still available to the party prosecutor. In this case the party prosecutor had parted with all control over the check by delivering it to the prisoner. Thirdly, the felonious intent of the party taking was not in itself sufficient to constitute a felony when the party to whom the property belonged had relinquished his control over it; and in support of these objections, he referred to several cases in point.

After some observations by Mr. Garrow, it was agreed that the jury should find a verdict subject to the future opinion of the twelve judges upon the chief baron's report.

The chief baron acquiesced in this arrangement, and then adverted to that part of the evidence which went to show the previous intent of the prisoner to commit the felony; observing, at the same time, that it was impossible, upon such evidence, not to find the prisoner guilty, who, in consequence of the objections made by his counsel, would have the benefit of the judgment of the twelve judges hereafter.

The jury immediately returned a verdict of--Guilty.

During the whole of the trial the prisoner was much affected.

The result of the argument before the judges was, that the facts proved did not, in estimation of law, amount to felony; and as Walsh had been convicted of that offence, he received a free pardon.

The Commons expelled him from his seat in their house; and he was again made a bankrupt, whereupon Sir Thomas found himself entitled only to a pitiful dividend under the second commission.

THE MURDER OF THE MARRS AND WILLIAMSONS.

The close of the year 1811 was productive of two scenes of blood, which struck horror into all hearts; we allude to the murders of the families of the Marrs and Williamsons, in Ratcliffe Highway, which were accomplished under circumstances of the most frightful atrocity, and of the most extraordinary mystery.

It appears that Mr. Marr was a linen-draper in a respectable way of business living in Ratcliffe Highway, and that his household establishment consisted of himself, his wife, and infant child, a shop-boy and a servant woman. It was his custom to close his shop at about eleven o'clock, when he and his assistant proceeded to dispose of the commodities which had been exposed for sale during the day by placing them on the shelves. On a dark evening at the beginning of the month of December 1811, he was engaged in the customary manner, his shop being closed, when the servant woman was despatched to procure some oysters for supper from a neighbouring shop. On her quitting her master's house she left the door a-jar, in order that she might procure a ready access on her return, and she went directly to the house of a person who resided only a few doors off to purchase the fish. She found, however, that they had sold the whole of their stock, and she was therefore compelled to go further; and having purchased the quantity required, and had them opened, she returned immediately to the residence of Mr. Marr. On her reaching the door, she found that it was closed, and she rang the bell. No answer was, however, returned and she repeated her application to the wire. Still no one came, and a watchman coming up at the moment inquired what she was doing there? She informed him of the errand on which she had been sent, and that she could not obtain an entrance, upon which he pulled the bell with great violence, but his efforts were attended with no better effect than those of the servant girl. Some alarm was now begun to be felt, and the next-door neighbour coming out, to learn the cause of the interference of the constables, three or four persons soon collected, amongst whom a consultation was held as to the best mode of proceeding. Various courses were suggested, a continued application to the knocker and bell being made in the mean time; and at length, no answer being given, it was determined that the wall which divided Mr. Marr's back premises from those of the adjoining house should be scaled, in order that the cause of the silence might be ascertained. The watchman, aided by the strangers who had collected near him, soon made an entrance into Mr. Marr's premises, but on going into the house a sight met his eyes, before which the stoutest heart would have quailed. The murdered remains of Mr. Marr and his shop-boy lay before him in the shop; the body of Mrs. Marr was in the passage, and that of the infant in its cradle, all warm and all steeped in gore.

The watchman, having recovered from the effect of the stupor which this horrid sight had produced in his mind, immediately ran to the door, and having opened it gave an alarm to those outside of the frightful murders which had been committed. An apprehension was entertained that the assassins might still be employed in plundering the house, and instant search was made, but without success; and it was ascertained that the murderers, intimidated probably by the girl's ringing the bell, had escaped from the back window, across some mud which lay in the back yard, and through a way whose intricacies could have been threaded by none but persons who had previously reconnoitred the situation. In the mean time the report of the murders had spread like wild-fire, and thousands of persons collected round the house, notwithstanding the late hour of the night; but, although many volunteers were found, and an instant search was made through the whole of the surrounding district, nothing was discovered which could in the remotest degree afford a clue to the discovery of the persons implicated in the diabolical transaction. A minute examination of the house took place when daylight afforded an opportunity for it to be done with good effect, and then a ripping chisel or hook, such as are used by carpenters and joiners, was found lying near the body of Mr. Marr, and some marks of blood were discovered on the window, through which the murderers had escaped; but nothing was found which could induce a supposition that any goods or money had been carried off.

In the mean time the murders had caused a most extraordinary sensation throughout the metropolis, and various reports were in circulation as to the manner in which they had been committed; and the most active inquiries were made with a view to the collection of evidence to be produced before the coroner's jury. Upon an inquest being held, in addition to the facts above detailed, it was proved by the servant girl that, on her quitting her employer's house, her master and the shop-boy were in the shop, and her mistress and the child were in the kitchen below; but no facts were proved which could at all lead to the discovery of the persons implicated in the foul deed. From the testimony of the girl it was supposed, that very soon after she had quitted home, the ruffians had entered the shop, probably under pretence of making a purchase, and, having closed the door, had attacked Mr. Marr, whom they had knocked down and there killed by cutting his throat. They had next seized the boy, who apparently had made some resistance, and despatched him in a similar manner; and Mrs. Marr now coming up stairs to inquire into the cause of the tumult and confusion which was doubtless created, she was in turn murdered in the same manner with her husband and the shop-boy. One would have imagined that the infant in its cradle would have escaped in this scene of carnage; but it was imagined that it had cried at being so long left alone, and the blood-thirsty monsters, afraid lest a discovery should take place in consequence of its calls, descended and terminated its existence by cutting its throat, so as almost to sever its head from the body. There being no further evidence to produce, the inquest was at length, after several adjournments, concluded, and a verdict of "Wilful murder against some person or persons unknown," was returned.

The funeral of these victims of villany took place on Sunday the 15th of December, 1811, at the church of St. George in the East, when the bodies of the family of Mr. Marr were deposited in one grave, in the presence of their sorrowing friends, and of an immense concourse of people, by whom the utmost respect and decorum were exhibited. The body of the shop-boy was interred by his friends.

Would that our tale of blood could terminate here! It is, however, our painful task to inform our readers of other murders, taking place under precisely similar circumstances with those of the Marr family, and within ten minutes' walk of the place in which they were perpetrated.

The horror and dismay produced by the atrocious event which we have just detailed had not yet subsided; the exertions of the police to discover the parties concerned in it had not yet been abated; the earth which had been thrown over the graves of the unhappy victims was not yet settled, ere the neighbourhood of Ratcliffe Highway was again the scene of a crime as horrible as that which still struck terror into the minds of all persons.

On Thursday night, the 19th of December, the neighbourhood of New Gravel-lane was thrown into a state of the most violent confusion by loud cries of "Murder!" proceeding from the King's Arms public-house, situated at No. 81 in that lane The recollection of the late event was still fresh in the minds of all, and crowds of persons instantly ran to the spot to learn the cause of alarm, rendered doubly appalling by recent circumstances. Nor was the sight which met their eyes at all calculated to allay the apprehensions which had been raised. A man almost in a state of nudity was seen descending from the second-floor window of the house mentioned by means of two sheets tied together, and exclaiming, with expressions of the most violent agitation and terror, "They are murdering the people in the house." On his reaching the extremity of the line which he was using, he was still eight feet from the ground; but he was assisted in his descent by the watchman, who received him into his arms, and he then repeated the alarm which he had already given. The greatest horror was felt at what was supposed to be a repetition of the frightful scene which had been so recently enacted, and a short consultation was held as to the best mode of affording relief to the inmates of the house. It was determined that the most speedy means must be taken; and, in accordance with a resolution which was arrived at, an entry was forced through the cellar flap. A man named Ludgate, a butcher living in Ashwell's Buildings, close by, and a Mr. Hawse and a constable, were the first persons who entered by this means; and almost at the same instant a gentleman named Fox obtained admission through some wooden bars at the side of the house, with a cutlass in his hand. The first object that was seen in the cellar was the body of Mr. Williamson, which lay at the foot of the stairs; and on its being examined, it was found that his throat was dreadfully cut, and that besides his leg was broken, and he had sustained a severe fracture of the skull, while the weapon with which he appeared to have been attacked, an iron crow-bar or maul, was lying at his side. In the parlour, the body of Mrs. Williamson was found with the skull fractured and the throat cut, the blood still issuing from the wound, while at her side lay that of the servant woman, whose head was horribly bruised, and whose throat was cut in a similar manner.

Surgical aid was instantly procured; but upon the bodies being examined, it was found that the vital spark had fled.

A new and irresistible feeling of horror now overspread the city of London and its vicinity, and the utmost apprehension was felt at this new attack upon a family within its own circle. On the first alarm being given, a picquet of the Tower Hamlets' Militia, and a number of the Volunteer Corps, aided by the inhabitants and the constables, made a most minute search in all quarters for the offenders, but no person could be discovered to whom suspicion could attach. Upon the premises being examined, in which the diabolical murders had been committed, it was found that the under part of the house was used as a skittle-ground, next to the entrance of which was the cellar-door; and from the bloody marks which appeared on both doors, it was obvious that the murderers had attempted to escape by both those means.

It was discovered, also, that the villains had eventually effected their exit from the house by means of a back window which looked into an open space belonging to the London Dock Company, from which there was easy access to many different streets branching off in various directions. The wounds on the heads of the unfortunate deceased, it was obvious, had been inflicted by the iron crow-bar which had been found; and from their position, as well as from the inclination in the cuts in the throats of the deceased persons, it appeared that the murderer was left-handed. During the time occupied in the perpetration of the horrid deed, a public-house, almost adjoining that of Mr. Williamson, was filled with people drinking, while only a few doors on the other side, there was a rendezvous for seamen, the windows of both of which looked into the open ground into which the murderers had escaped.

In the course of the following day the most active measures were taken to secure the murderers. Police officers were despatched in all directions; a reward of 100_l_ was offered by the parish for their apprehension, and the magistrates sat at Shadwell Police-office during the whole day, ready to receive and act upon any information which might be brought to them. On the day succeeding, a coroner's inquest was held upon the bodies of the deceased persons, when Mr. Anderson, constable, and John Turner, the man who had escaped from the window, were examined.

Mr. Anderson deposed that he was a constable, and knew Mr. and Mrs. Williamson; they were highly respected in the neighbourhood, and for the space of fifteen years kept the King's Arms public-house, which was the resort of foreigners of every description. At eleven o'clock every night they invariably closed their house. On Thursday night, the 19th of December 1811, Mr. Williamson pursued his usual course. Ten minutes before eleven witness called for a pot of beer. During the time Mrs. Williamson was drawing the beer, Mr. Williamson, who was sitting by the fire, said to him, "You are an officer--there has been a fellow listening at my door with a brown coat on; if you should see him, take him into custody, or tell me." He answered "He certainly would, for his and his own safety," and then retired. Witness lived next door but one to the deceased. Between twenty and thirty minutes after he left the King's Arms, he intended to go for another pot of beer; as soon as he got out of his house he heard a noise, when he saw the lodger lowering himself down into the street by the sheets. He ran into the house for his staff, and proceeded to the spot. The watchman caught the lodger in his arms, when witness and others broke the cellar-flap open, and, having descended, began to look round the cellar; on coming to the staircase, they saw Mr. Williamson lying on his back, with his legs upon the stairs, his head downwards: by his side was an iron instrument, similar to a stonemason's crow, about three feet long, in diameter three quarters of an inch: it was much stained with blood. Mr. Williamson had received a wound on the head, his throat was dreadfully cut, his right leg was broken by a blow, and his hand severely cut. From these marks of violence witness supposed Mr. Williamson made great resistance, as he was a very powerful man. They then proceeded up into the sitting-room, where they saw Mrs. Williamson lying on her left side; her skull was fractured, and her throat cut and bleeding most profusely. Near to her was the servant woman, lying on her back, with her head under the grate; her skull was more dreadfully fractured than that of her mistress, her throat most inhumanly cut, and none of the bodies were cold. Witness then stated that the premises were afterwards examined, and it was discovered that the murderers had made their escape from a back window looking into a piece of waste ground belonging to the London Dock Company. The sill of the window was stained with blood, and the sash remained thrown up. The distance which the villains had to jump did not exceed eight feet, and the ground beneath was soft clay; so they could sustain no injury even had they fallen. From the waste ground in question there was no difficulty whatever in escaping, as it communicated with several by-streets.

John Turner, the man who escaped from the window, and who was a lodger in the house, deposed as follows:--

"I went to bed about five minutes before eleven o'clock; I had not been in bed more than five or ten minutes before I heard the cry of 'We shall all be murdered!' which I suppose was the cry of the woman-servant. I went down stairs, and saw one of the villains cutting Mrs. Williamson's throat, and rifling her pockets. I immediately ran up stairs, took up the sheets from my bed, fastened them together, and lashed them to the bed-posts; I called to the watchman to give the alarm; I was hanging out of the front window by the sheets; and the watchman received me in his arms, naked as I was. A great mob had then assembled opposite the door; and as soon as I got upon my legs the door was forced open: I entered, and found the bodies lying as described. There was nobody lodged in the house but myself, except a grand-daughter of Mrs. Williamson. I have lived in the house about eight months, and during that time I have found the family to be the most peaceful people that could keep a public-house. The man whom I saw rifling Mrs. Williamson's pocket, as far as I could see by the light in the room, was about six feet in height, dressed in a genteel style, with a long dark loose coat on. I said nothing to him; but, terrified, I ran up stairs, and made my escape as already mentioned. When I was down stairs, I heard two or three very great sighs; and when I was first alarmed, I heard distinctly the words, 'We shall all be murdered.'" Turner further deposed that, at the time he went to bed, Mrs. Williamson was on the stairs, taking up a silver punch-ladle and watch, which were to be raffled for on the following Monday, into her bedroom for security.

Other witnesses were examined, but their testimony differed in no material respects from that of the persons whose evidence we have detailed; and the jury, as in the case of Mr. Marr, returned a verdict of "Wilful Murder against some person or persons unknown."

After the termination of this necessary inquiry before the coroner, however, the most minute investigation of every circumstance connected with this lamentable affair was carried on by the magistrates of Shadwell. Many persons were taken into custody, but discharged for want of evidence: but an Irishman, named Cornelius Driscoll, was detained on suspicion of being implicated in the horrid deed, on account of a pair of breeches covered with blood being found in his possession.

Of all the persons seized, however, suspicion fell strongest upon a man named John Williams, who cheated justice by committing suicide before his guilt or his innocence could be fully established.

This man was apprehended on suspicion of being concerned in the murders; and on his examination, John Frederick Ritchen, a Dane, who was also in custody, was sworn as a witness. He stated that he had lodged in the Pear Tree public-house, kept by Mr. Vermillee, with the prisoner, for about twelve weeks and three or four days, but knew little of him except in the light of a fellow-lodger. He knew that he was acquainted with two men, a carpenter and a joiner, and about three or four weeks before he had seen them all three drinking together at the bar of the public-house. On the night of the murder of the Marr family Williams was out, and a few minutes before he returned there was a knock at the door, which Mrs. Vermillee opened. The witness had gone down to open the door, but seeing Mrs. Vermillee, he went up to his own room; and, when there, heard her in conversation with a man, whose voice resembled that of one of the two men before mentioned. A few minutes afterwards Williams himself came in. This was almost half-past one o'clock. Three or four days before Williams was taken up, he observed that the large sandy-coloured whiskers, which had before formed a striking feature in his appearance, had been cut off. About eleven o'clock on the day after the murder of the Marr family, the witness went from curiosity to examine the premises, which he entered, and saw the dead bodies. From thence he returned to the Pear Tree, where he found Williams in the back yard, washing out his stockings, but he did not tell him where he had been. He was then questioned respecting his knowledge of the maul, which is a round bar of iron about an inch in diameter, between two and three feet in length, flattened at the end into the shape of a chisel, but not with a cutting edge, being apparently a tool for caulking. He said it resembled one he had seen about the Pear Tree public-house, but he could not identify it. A pair of blue woollen trousers, and also a pair of canvas trousers, were then produced, which had been found between the mattress and the bed-clothes of the hammock in which the witness slept. The legs of the blue trousers had evidently been washed, for the purpose of cleaning them from mud, of which the appearances were still visible in the creases, which had not been effectually cleansed. These trousers were damp at the time of the examination; the canvas trousers were also damp, but they presented no particular appearance. The witness stated that both these pairs of trousers had formerly belonged to a person since gone to sea, and he had since worn them himself.

Mrs. Orr, residing near the Pear Tree, stated, that on the Saturday before Marr's murder, about half-past one o'clock in the morning, she was getting up linen, when she heard a noise about the house, as if a man was attempting to break into the house. She was frightened and asked, "Who was there?" A voice answered, which she knew to be Williams's, "I am a robber!" She answered, "Whether you are a robber or not, I will let you in, and am glad to see you." Williams entered, seating himself till the watchman was calling the hour of past two o'clock. He then got up from his chair, and asked the landlady if she would have a glass. She assented, but as he would not go for it, she went to the Pear Tree public-house, but could gain no admittance. She returned, when Williams inquired how many rooms there were in her house, and the situation of her back premises. She replied, there were three rooms, and that her back yard communicated with Mrs. Vermillee's house. The watchman came into Mrs. Orr's house, although Williams resisted it for some time, and he told her that he had picked up a chisel by the side of her window. Williams ran out unobserved at this information; soon afterwards he returned. The watchman was going, when Williams stopped him, and desired him to go to the Pear Tree and get some liquor. The house was then open. While the watchman was gone for the liquor, Williams took up the chisel, and said, "D--n my eyes, where did you get this chisel?" Mrs. Orr did not part with it, and retained the instrument till the Monday following. Hearing that Williams was examined, she went to Mrs. Vermillee's, and showed her the chisel.--Mrs. Vermillee looked at it, and compared it with the tools in one Patterson's chest, when it was found to bear the same marks, and declared that it was taken out of her house. Mrs. Orr instantly delivered the chisel to the magistrates of Shadwell-street office, as being a further trace to the villany. Mrs. Orr said she knew Williams for eleven weeks; he frequently nursed her child, and used to joke with her daughter, and once asked her whether she should be frightened if he came in the dead of the night to her bedside? The daughter replied, that if it was he who came, she should not be frightened. They both thought him an agreeable young man, of a most insinuating address.

In consequence of the information of this witness, a minute examination of the ripping chisel found at Mr. Marr's took place, and it was found also to be marked like that discovered by the watchman at Mrs. Orr's. The husband of Mrs. Vermillee was in custody on suspicion in Newgate, and he was consulted, and expressed his belief that it was taken from the same tool chest as that chisel. The plot now seemed to thicken against the prisoner, and little doubt was entertained of his connexion with the carpenter and joiner, and of their having all been engaged in the perpetration of these most horrid murders, when all further efforts on the part of the police were checked, by his adding another crime to those which it was fully believed he had already committed, by destroying himself.

He had been remanded for further examination to Cold Bath Fields Prison, and the police of the district had redoubled their exertions to detect and bring to justice his accomplices. Mr. Vermillee had been ordered to be set at liberty, in order that he might give evidence upon the day of the next inquiry before the magistrates, when, on the very morning on which the prisoner was to be carried before the magistrates, upon the gaoler going to call him from his cell, in order that he might prepare himself to be carried to the Police Office, he was found, heavily ironed as he was, suspended by a handkerchief from a beam in the apartment in which he was confined. He was instantly cut down, but upon his body being examined, it was found that he was quite dead and cold, and that he had evidently been hanging during several hours.

The excitement produced by this termination of the investigation would be difficult to describe, but all persons now expressed their full belief that the deceased prisoner was the author of the crimes which had attracted such universal attention. An inquest was held upon his body, and a verdict of felo de se was returned by the jury, but now became a question, how the public indignation could best be satisfied? The rule in such cases was that the deceased should be buried in the nearest cross roads, but a conference was held with the Home Secretary by Mr. Capper, the magistrate, with the view of ascertaining how far this regulation might be departed from, at which it was determined that a public exhibition of the body should be made through the neighbourhood which had been the scene of the monster's crimes. In conformity with this decision, on the 31st of December, the body of the deceased was privately removed from the prison at eleven o'clock at night, and conveyed to St. George's watchhouse, near the London docks, and on the following (Tuesday) morning, at half-past ten o'clock, a procession was formed in the following order:--

Several hundred constables, with their staves, clearing the way. The newly-formed patrole, with drawn cutlasses. Another body of constables. Parish officers of St. George’s, St. Paul’s, and Shadwell, on horseback. Peace-officers, on horseback. Constables. The high constable of the county of Middlesex, on horseback. The body of Williams,

Extended at full length on an inclined platform, erected on the cart, about four feet high at the head, and gradually sloping towards the horse, giving a full view of the body, which was dressed in blue trousers and a white and blue striped waistcoat, but without a coat, as when found in the cell. On the left side of the head the fatal maul, and on the right the ripping-chisel, with which the murders were perpetrated, were exposed to view. The countenance of Williams was ghastly in the extreme, and the whole had an appearance too horrible for description.

A strong body of constables brought up the rear.

The procession advanced slowly up Ratcliffe Highway, accompanied by an immense concourse of persons, eager to get a sight of the murderer's remains. When the cart came opposite to the late Mr. Marr's house, a halt was made for near a quarter of an hour. The procession then moved down Old Gravel-lane, along Wapping, up New Crane-lane, and into New Gravel-lane. When the platform arrived at Mr. Williamson's late house, a second halt took place. It then proceeded up the hill, and again entered Ratcliffe Highway, down which it moved into Cannon-street, and advanced to St. George's turnpike, where the New Road is intersected by Cannon-street. There a grave, about six feet deep, had been prepared, immediately over which the main water-pipe runs. Between twelve and one o'clock the body was taken from the platform, and lowered into the grave, immediately after which a stake was driven through it; and, the pit being covered, this ceremony concluded.

During the last half-hour the crowd had increased immensely--they poured in from all parts, but their demeanour was perfectly quiet. All the shops in the neighbourhood were shut, and the windows and tops of the houses were crowded with spectators. On every side, mingled with execrations of the murderer, were heard fervent prayers for the speedy detection of his accomplices.

A conclusive evidence of the guilt of this wretched suicide was afterwards found, in the discovery of a knife which he always carried with him, concealed in a hole in the room which he occupied, encrusted with blood.

Fearful as were the horrid crimes committed by this blood-thirsty assassin, they were not without their good effect in the metropolis. The sensation produced by the murders awakened the apprehension of all persons for their own safety; and local meetings were held in the various parishes of the metropolis, at which resolutions were passed, in pursuance of which a system of police was established far more complete than that which before existed, although still infinitely inferior in point of regularity and competence to that which within the last eleven years has been adopted and carried out to the admiration of the civilised world.

WILLIAM HEBBERFIELD.

EXECUTED FOR FORGERY.

The prosecution of this prisoner arose out of a desire on the part of the Bank of England to put a stop to the most dangerous and hurtful system of forgery which existed about this time in the city of London.

It appears that the prisoner had long been known as a dealer in forged notes; but he had contrived to elude the vigilance of the officers employed, although he rendered himself liable to punishment for the part which he took in a conspiracy for aiding the escape of General Austin, a French officer, a prisoner of war in this country, on his parole, for which he was sentenced by the Court of King's Bench to two years' imprisonment in Newgate. Even while in that jail, however, he continued to carry on the trade in forged notes; and this being communicated to the officers of the bank, they determined upon a plan to secure his conviction. A prisoner named Barry, who was in the House of Correction undergoing an imprisonment for passing counterfeit dollars, was selected as the agent, and on the 23d of September he was conducted in a hackney-coach to Newgate, accompanied by Mr. Weston, the principal clerk to Mr. Freshfield, the bank solicitor, and by Beckett, one of the turnkeys, by whom he was provided with 8_l._ in good 1_l._-notes. On their arrival at the prison, Barry was shown into the prisoner's room, where he found a number of other persons. He directly went to the prisoner, and without saying anything, gave him six of the notes which he had received, and which were all marked. The prisoner returned three, saying that he should not have enough of the other notes until the next day; but in lieu of the others, which he kept, he handed over forged notes of the nominal value of 6_l._ Barry immediately carried these notes to Mr. Weston, who remained outside; and Beckett, accompanied by Brown and another officer, went into the prisoner's chamber, and asked him to produce what property he had about him. The prisoner directly took from one pocket a handful of gold, from another a pocket-book filled with bank-notes, from another a quantity of loose bank-notes, and he also produced a stocking stuffed with the like currency. Beckett, on examining these notes, and not perceiving amongst them any of the marked ones he sought for, told the prisoner he had some more, and desired him to produce them; upon which the prisoner took some other notes from his side-pocket, and laid them on the bed where he was sitting. Beckett took those up, and they proved to be the marked notes. He said these were what he wanted, and returned the prisoner the rest; upon which the prisoner, probably anticipating his purpose, snatched the notes, and thrust them into the fire. Beckett's assistant, however, rescued them from the flames, and they were proved to be the same which Barry had paid him just before; and the notes Barry received in lieu were also proved to be forgeries.

The prisoner upon being indicted for this offence was found guilty and sentenced to death, in pursuance of which he was executed on the 2nd November 1811.

So great was the increase of these frauds upon the public, that between the year 1797 and 1811, no fewer than 471 persons were prosecuted to conviction for forging, or uttering, or possessing forged notes. The total amount of notes thus put off it is of course impossible to calculate with any certainty, but discoveries were made which showed the system to exist to an extent almost incredible.

JOHN CLAYTON AND WILLIAM JENKINS.

EXECUTED FOR BURGLARY.

The activity, daring, and ingenuity of the London "cracksmen" is well exemplified in the following case:--

It appears that Reid, a constable belonging to Perry's party of patrole, received information from a person technically called a "nose,"--that is, an informer or spy,--that a set was made at the house of a Mrs. Martin, a lady residing at No. 4, Bury Street, St. James's, by a party of thieves, who had derived sufficient knowledge of the customs of the house from the servant girl, Mary Wakelin, to induce them to suppose that the robbery would be a profitable speculation. Their mode of making themselves acquainted with this circumstance was this:--The girl, like most others of her condition and years, was vain of her personal charms, and the prisoner Clayton was a young man of pleasing manners and insinuating address. The "crack" was fixed upon, and Clayton was set to work upon the girl's vanity, and so obtain the necessary information to enable his assistants and associates to complete it cleverly. He addressed her one evening at the public-house to which she was in the habit of going to fetch her mistress's beer, and having passed a few encomiums upon her beauty, was soon admitted into conversation. The impression which he made was not unfavourable, and he was too good a judge to allow an opportunity to pass, by which he might benefit himself. Day after day he was found at the same place, and each day he was more attentive than the last; and the girl at length looked upon him in the light of a suitor. He informed her that he was a trunk-maker living in Oxford Street, and in return obtained information that her mistress was in the habit of visiting the theatres or some other place of public amusement nearly every night. He did not fail to improve upon his acquaintance at every fresh interview, and at length a Monday evening was fixed upon, when the lover was to be admitted to spend an hour with the girl in the kitchen during her mistress's absence. It was at this period that the officers gained information of the intended robbery; and they in consequence obtained permission to occupy a room opposite to Mrs. Martin's house, from which they could witness all that passed. Half-past eight o'clock was the time appointed by Mary to see her swain, and the constables took care to be as punctual as he. A few minutes before the time, accordingly, they saw four men and two women arrive at the spot, from whom Clayton separated himself and went and knocked at the door. He was, however, doomed to be disappointed. The mistress was unwell and could not go out, and therefore, with a kiss or two, and an affectionate hug, the sweethearts were obliged to part, not, however, without fixing the next Tuesday to carry out their design. Tuesday night came, and the officers were again at their post; but the loving pair separated after taking a little gin together. Wednesday evening passed in the same manner, Mrs. Martin being still too unwell to go out; and notwithstanding the most praiseworthy attention on the part of the supposed trunk-maker to his inamorata, every evening until the following Tuesday passed in the same way, the professions of inviolable attachment made by the tender-hearted youth growing each night more strong, and his anxiety to enter the house increasing at every meeting. On the Tuesday night, however, the girl told Clayton that her mistress was so much recovered, that she expected she would be well enough to go the following night to the play, and on Wednesday night, about eight o'clock, Mrs. Martin, accompanied by a male and female friend, went in a coach to the theatre. In a few minutes after, the servant girl came out, and returned shortly with Clayton, arm in arm together. They talked together several minutes at the door, and then went in. In about a quarter of an hour after, Clayton came out, and returned in about five minutes, accompanied by another man. Clayton knocked at the door, and the girl opened it. She appeared to refuse to let the other man in; but Clayton forced open the door, and the other man rushed in. The officers, who had been upon the close watch every night, then went over to the house, and heard all three talking very loud in the kitchen. From the noise, and what they saw through a keyhole, they ascertained that the two men were dragging the girl up stairs against her will, and she was exclaiming, "Lord have mercy upon me! what shall I do?" One of the men told her if she made such a noise he would blow her brains out, and presented a pistol to her head, and kept it there. They forced her up stairs, and the officers heard doors being broken open, &c., and, in a few minutes after, the second man came down stairs, and returned with the kitchen poker. They then heard other doors break open; but not hearing the noise of the girl continued, the officers were afraid she was being murdered, and were proceeding to force the street-door with an iron crow, when the girl exclaimed it was her mistress, gave a sudden spring, released herself from her assailants, ran down stairs, with the robbers after her: and they got into the passage just as the officers had entered. Clayton and Jenkins appeared as if nothing had happened, and wanted to get out; but Perry and Reid seized them. The villains made a most desperate resistance, which they were enabled to do, being very tall, stout, powerful men; but they were eventually secured. On searching Clayton, a large clasp knife and a bad dollar were found. On Jenkins were found a pistol, two bad dollars, &c. On examining the house, the officers discovered that a large quantity of property had been packed up, ready to be carried off. Several rooms and closets were broken open, and the thieves were in the act of breaking open a chest when they were disturbed.

The trial of these desperadoes came on at the Old Bailey, on the 15th of January, when Mary Wakelin, before named, deposed that she first became acquainted with the prisoner Clayton about eight or ten days before the 1st of January; he then came to her mistress's house, when she answered the door, and told her his name was Wilson, and that he had a letter for Mrs. Martin, which was the name her mistress went by. A night or two afterwards he threw things down the area. Her mistress sent her out with a message, and she then saw Clayton, who asked her to take something to drink, which she at first refused; but upon his insisting they went and had something to drink. She saw him a night or two afterwards in the streets, as she went out on an errand, and frequently after that; but she never saw the prisoner Jenkins till the night of the 1st of January.

The jury found both the prisoners Guilty, and they were sentenced to death.

The fearful sentence was carried into effect on the scaffold before the Debtor's door, Newgate, on the 19th February 1812, at the usual hour, and with the accustomed solemnity. Clayton was twenty-eight years of age, and Jenkins thirty-five.

After the culprits had been divested of their irons, Clayton observed to Jenkins it was an awful moment, and he exhorted him to cheer his spirits, and die with manly fortitude--adding that the sentence was just, and trusting their example would warn others against keeping bad company.

DANIEL DAWSON.

EXECUTED FOR POISONING RACE-HORSES.

This fellow had long exercised the business of a tout to betting-men of an inferior class on the Turf, obtaining for them such information from the grooms and other persons employed about the racing-stables as he conceived they might deem useful; when having got together a little money, he thought that he might be able to employ his information to his own advantage, and he therefore turned betting-man himself. He was a man utterly devoid of education, and therefore unfit to mix among the gentlemen of his class; and being confined to the society of grooms and other persons of "low degree," he imbibed none of those principles of "honour" for which the speculators on racing and other gambling events are generally proverbial. In order then to make sure of winning his bets, he determined to render the horses unfit for running, by drugging them. In this practice he continued until April 1811, when he conveyed a large quantity of the solution of arsenic into a watering trough, from which two horses belonging to Lord Foley and Sir F. Standish had to drink.

The drug being too powerful to produce that effect only which was requisite, the horses died, and suspicion falling upon Dawson and a companion of his named Cecil Bishop, they were taken into custody. Bishop immediately made a full confession, and accused Dawson of having poisoned another horse in the year 1809, belonging to a Mr. Adams at Royston, and he made such disclosures as established a chain of evidence which left no doubt of the truth of his story. He was therefore admitted as a witness, and his companion was committed to take his trial at the ensuing Lent Assizes at Cambridge. It there turned out, that instead of being a principal as he was charged, he was an accessary only, and he was acquitted; but he was detained in custody upon another charge of poisoning race-horses in the year 1809. He was arraigned upon a second indictment therefore at the Assizes held in August 1812, and upon this he was found guilty and sentenced to death. For some time after his conviction, he entertained hopes that his life would be spared, and Lord Foley, in consequence of some communications which he received from him, was induced to second his application for mercy. This, however, was attended with no good effect, and the wretched culprit was left for execution. Determined not to throw away all chances, he resolved to attempt to escape from custody, and he wrote to his wife in the following terms, in order to procure some assistance to enable him to complete his design.

"DEAR WIFE,--I learn by yours, I am in danger; but I have another way of escape without fear of being discovered.--You go to a tool-shop, and get a small back saw, as the watch-makers use, the smaller the better, to convey to me: the best way you can get it in will be between some turf, with some black thread; if you can find a better way, do it; but be careful, for all the danger is to get that to me, for I have but one bar to cut, and I am in town by four o'clock in the morning. They will not miss me till eight, when they come to unlock us. I shall be by that out of their reach. Dear girl, bring me the turf six pieces at a time. When I have got the saw, I must have some friend come round to see the Castle, but take no notice of me, but to see the situation; I am in full north; and come again in one hour after we lock up; bring rope enough to reach over the wall, and he stand on the other side, and hold it till I am up the wall. Fasten a large spike to the end of the rope, and throw it over the wall, and tie knots about nine inches asunder to hold by, and about twenty-five feet long. There is no danger in this, for there is nobody inside after we come to bed. A rainy night will be best; but I will let you know the night by another line. Mr. Prince says he has got a very respectable man, who will come forward and swear to everything of the concern, all but seeing it put in. If anybody can be found to write to Lord F. 0. (alluding to a threat), it will have great effect. Mr. J. B. South-street Grosvenor Square, Mr. B. King's Mews, Elbs (meaning Theobald's) Road, Gray's-Inn Lane, have a good look out, if there is any danger. I shall soon be along with you, with a little of your assistance; by applying to the people above mentioned you will get good intelligence. When you write, direct your letters to Mrs. Howell's sister. When you come, ask me for my pocket-book, and I can give you all at once. I shall call them things breeches and coat, so you will know."

This letter was detected in the hand of his wife, by the jailer, whose suspicions were excited by the circumstance of their parting on this occasion with more than usual emotion; and baffled in all his schemes, he for a time indulged the criminal design of taking away his own life, but from which he was persuaded by the pious exhortations of the chaplain. Seeing no hopes of either mercy or escape, he resigned himself to his fate, but persisted in denying having intended to destroy the horses, as he only wanted to incapacitate them from winning.

Dawson spent his last days in all the fervency of prayer, and expressed his pious hope in the forgiveness of the Almighty. The last parting from his wife was truly affecting, and he described it as worse than death. The night before his execution he slept soundly, and ate, next morning, a hearty breakfast. Previous to his receiving the sacrament he tied a yard of black ribbon round his neck, which, at his dying request, was conveyed to his afflicted wife. At twelve o'clock he was led to the platform, on the top of Cambridge Castle, and was turned off amidst an immense concourse of spectators, it being market-day. He died without a struggle.

THE MARQUIS OF SLIGO.

FINED AND IMPRISONED FOR ENTICING SEAMEN TO DESERT HIS MAJESTY'S NAVY.

In 1810, the noble marquis, then a thoughtless young man, quitted college, and proceeded on his travels, visiting those places in person, of whose ancient fame and greatness he had read so much. Being partial to marine excursions, and willing to indulge himself in one in the Mediterranean, he hired, at Malta, a brig called the Pylades; and having been introduced to Captain Sprainger, of the Warrior, then on that station, he received from that naval officer much information and kindness.

The noble marquis being frequently rowed to and from the Warrior by some of her athletic crew, seems to have thought the addition of a few of these fine fellows a desirable acquisition to his handful of Italians. Accordingly it appears that he succeeded in inducing two of them to join his crew, upon which suspicion fell upon his lordship; for it was supposed no ordinary inducement had been held out to them, as they were men of tried fidelity, long standing, and had then three years' arrears of wages due to them. Captain Sprainger paid the marquis a visit on board the Pylades; and, on hinting his suspicions, his lordship appeared greatly hurt; upon which the captain, from their intimacy, contented himself with cautioning his noble friend upon the danger of having deserters on board, as the navy was very low, being nearly two thousand under its complement. He then left the marquis, and from his own ship sent him a description of the men missing, requesting that if they offered themselves to his lordship, they might be sent to some of his majesty's ships at Malta.

Next day the Warrior sailed; and the noble marquis resolved that his brig should be a letter of marque, for the purpose of upholding the honour of the British flag. For the business of navigation, a comparatively few men would have done; but in this new capacity he required at least forty. To procure these was no very difficult task on a station where men were hourly in the habit of quitting their ships; and his lordship's servant, in the course of an evening or two, added fourteen brave fellows to their complement.

On the 13th of May his lordship sailed to Palermo, and from thence to Messina, where, on pledging his word of honour that he had no deserters on board, he received a six months' protection for forty men, having inserted false names for the men-of-war's men. The Pylades then proceeded on her course, and on the 30th of May she was chased by the Active, an officer of that ship having heard that deserters were on board. Ere the boat came alongside, his lordship ordered the men-of-war's men below, and, though a search took place, they escaped detection.

The marquis next sailed to Patmos, where ten of the men were allowed to go on shore, and that evening the vessel sailed without them. The abandoned men appear to have suffered great hardship; and at Scio, when accompanied by the British consul to the Pylades, his lordship refused to receive any of them except four, who were useful in the management of the vessel. Some of the men returned to their duty, and were tried by a court martial. From Constantinople the marquis wrote to Captain Sprainger, stating that he found he had some of his men on board, and that he was determined to send them on shore the first opportunity; that if the business was brought into a court, he would do the best to defend himself; and that, at the worst, he had an ample fortune, and could pay the fines.

Tired with travelling, his lordship returned home, and soon after his arrival in England he was indicted for enticing British seamen from their duty. The trial came on at the Old Bailey, December 16th 1812, when, after a protracted inquiry, his lordship was found Guilty, and sentenced to pay a fine of five thousand pounds, and to be imprisoned four months in Newgate.

Perhaps it is not the least curious particular attending this case, that his lordship's mother, the Dowager Marchioness of Sligo, soon after her son's trial, was married to Sir William Scott, the judge who passed sentence on the youthful marquis.

JOHN BELLINGHAM.

EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE SPENCER PERCEVAL.

On the 11th of May, in the year 1812, an event occurred which excited universal dismay and regret in the minds of the whole of the British public--the death of the Right Honourable Spencer Perceval, then Chancellor of the Exchequer, by the hand of an assassin.

John Bellingham, the author of this crime, was brought up in a counting-house in London, and afterwards went to Archangel, where he lived during a period of three years in the service of a Russian merchant. Having returned to England, he was married to a Miss Nevill, the daughter of a respectable merchant and ship-broker, who at that time resided at Newry, but who subsequently removed to Dublin. Bellingham, being a person of active habits and of considerable intelligence, was subsequently employed by some merchants in the Russian trade, by whom he was induced again to visit Archangel, and he in consequence proceeded thither, accompanied by his wife, in the year 1804. His principal dealings were with the firm of Dorbecker and Co.; but before twelve months had expired, a misunderstanding arose between them, and each party made pecuniary claims upon the other. The subject was referred by the Governor-General to the decision of four merchants, two of whom Bellingham was allowed to select from his countrymen resident on the spot, and by the award of these arbitrators Bellingham was found to be indebted to the house of Dorbecker and Co. in the sum of two thousand roubles; but this sum he refused to pay, and appealed to the senate against the decision.

In the mean time, a criminal suit had been instituted against him by the owners of a Russian ship which had been lost in the White Sea. They accused him of having written an anonymous letter to the underwriters in London, stating that the insurances of that ship were fraudulent transactions; in consequence of which the payment for her loss was resisted. No satisfactory proof being adduced, Bellingham was acquitted: but before the termination of the suit, he attempted to quit Archangel, and being stopped by the police, whom he resisted, he was taken to prison, but was soon after liberated, through the influence of the British consul, Sir Stephen Shairp, to whom he had made application, requesting to be protected from what he considered the injustice of the Russian authorities.

Soon after this the senate confirmed the award of the arbitrators, and Bellingham was delivered over to the College of Commerce, a tribunal established, and acknowledged by treaty, for taking cognizance of commercial matters relating to British subjects. He was to remain in custody till he discharged the debt of the two thousand roubles; but his confinement was by no means severe; for he had permission to walk wherever he pleased, attended by an officer belonging to the college. Lord Granville Leveson Gower being at this time ambassador at the Russian Court, Bellingham made frequent application, and, at various times, received from his secretary small sums of money to support him during his confinement. One night, in particular, he rushed into his lordship's house at St. Petersburgh, and requested permission to remain all night, to avoid being secured by the police, whom he had escaped. This was granted, although Lord Gower had no authority to protect him from a legal arrest; but it appears he was afterwards retaken, and being confined by the authorities of the country, the British ambassador could have no pretence to solicit his release. His lordship, however, in a conversation with the minister for foreign affairs, expressed a personal wish that the Russian Government, seeing no prospect of recovering the money from Bellingham, would liberate him on condition of his immediately returning to England; but we are not told what effect was produced, as Lord Gower soon after quitted the Russian Court.

The foregoing is taken from the statement published by Lord Granville Leveson Gower, in his own justification, against the charge made against him by Bellingham on his trial; and we hope, for the honour of our country, that it is correct; and we must confess that a review of all the circumstances tends to confirm its accuracy. Our ambassador, it is admitted, had the case investigated; and as his refusal to interfere was subsequently confirmed by that of the English Government, it is evident that Bellingham could have had no just cause of complaint, or, at least, none of a nature to call for diplomatic negotiation or pecuniary recompense. In justice to the unfortunate man, we shall, when we come to his trial, give his own statement, and leave the reader to draw his own conclusion.

Bellingham having, by some means or other, procured his liberation, in the year 1809 returned to England, and at Liverpool commenced the business of an insurance broker. It appears, however, that from a constant recital of the circumstances which had occurred in Russia, his complaints were aggravated in his own mind into grievances, and he at length began to talk of demanding redress from the Government for what he termed and appeared to consider the culpable misconduct of their officer, Lord Gower, and his secretary, in omitting to defend his rights as a British subject; and he eventually wrote to the Marquis Wellesley, setting forth the nature of his case, and the grounds upon which he expected that some compensation would be made. By the noble marquis he was referred to the Privy Council, and by that body to the Treasury; but his efforts being unattended with success in either quarter, he determined to proceed to the Chancellor of the Exchequer (Mr. Perceval), with a view to obtain his sanction and support for his demand. Mr. Perceval, however, having made himself master of the case submitted to him, declined to interfere, and Mr. Bellingham was then advised by his friends that the only resource left to him was a petition to parliament. As an inhabitant of Liverpool, he applied to General Gascoyne, then member for that city, to present a petition to the house of commons; but that honourable gentleman having ascertained upon inquiry that the case was unsupported by the Chancellor of the Exchequer, he refused to have anything to do with it. Driven now to pursue a course quite unusual in such cases, he petitioned the Prince Regent, but from him he was referred again to the Treasury, and he again received an intimation that all applications from him must be futile. Three years had now been spent in these constant and fruitless attacks upon the government, but the unfortunate and misguided gentleman appeared even yet to cherish hopes that his case would be attended to. On one occasion, it is reported that he carried his wife, who had in vain striven to wean him from what she considered to be his malady, and another lady, to the secretary of state's office for the purpose of showing them the success with which his exertions were attended; and although he then, as he had before, received a flat denial of his claims, yet he continued to assure them that he did not in the least doubt that ere long all his hopes would be made good, and he would receive compensation for his sufferings.

He now adopted a new and certainly an unprecedented mode of attack. He wrote to the police magistrates of Bow-street in the following terms:--

"To their Worships, the Police Magistrates of the Public Office in Bow-street.

"SIRS,--I much regret its being my lot to have to apply to your worships under most peculiar and novel circumstances.--For the particulars of the case, I refer to the enclosed letter of Mr. Secretary Ryder, the notification from Mr. Perceval, and my petition to parliament, together with the printed papers herewith. The affair requires no further remark, than that I consider his majesty's government to have completely endeavoured to close the door of justice, in declining to have, or even to permit, my grievances to be brought before parliament, for redress, which privilege is the birthright of every individual. The purport of the present is, therefore, once more to solicit his majesty's ministers, through your medium, to let what is right and proper be done in my instance, which is all I require. Should this reasonable request be finally denied, I shall then feel justified in executing justice myself--in which case I shall be ready to argue the merits of so reluctant a measure with his majesty's attorney-general, wherever and whenever I may be called upon so to do in the hopes of averting so abhorrent, but compulsive an alternative, I have the honour to be, Sirs, your very humble and obedient servant,

"JOHN BELLINGHAM."

"No. 9, New Millman-street, March 23, 1812."

This letter was at once conveyed to the members of the government, but it was treated by them as a mere threat, and no further notice was taken of it, than on Mr. Bellingham's again presenting himself, by a fresh refusal being given to him by Mr. Read. Once more he applied to the Treasury, and again he was told that he had nothing to expect; and according to his statement, Mr. Hill, whom he now saw, told him that he might "resort to whatever measures he thought fit." This he declared he considered "a carte blanche to take justice into his own hands," and he accordingly determined to take such measures of revenge as he madly supposed would effectually secure that attention and consideration for his case, which he deemed it had not received, and to which it was in his opinion fully entitled.

This unhappy determination being made, he began to make the necessary preparations for the foul deed which he contemplated. His first step was to make himself acquainted with the persons of those ministers who had seats in the House of Commons, and for this purpose he nightly visited the House and there usually took his seat in the gallery appropriated to strangers; and having obtained a general knowledge of their persons, he afterwards posted himself in the lobby of the House, in order to be able to identify them. He then purchased a pair of pistols, with powder and ball, and had an additional pocket made in his coat for carrying them the more conveniently.

On the evening of the 11th of May, 1812, he took his station behind the folding-doors leading into the body of the House, and at five o'clock, as Mr. Perceval advanced up the lobby, he presented one of his pistols and fired. His aim was true, and the ball entered the left breast of his victim and passed through his heart. Mr. Perceval reeled a short distance, and exclaiming "Murder!" in a low tone of voice, he fell to the ground. He was instantly picked up by Mr. Smith, the member for Norwich, and another gentleman, and carried into the office of the speaker's secretary, where he expired almost immediately. Loud cries of "Shut the door--let no one out," were heard immediately after the shot was fired, and several persons exclaimed, "Where's the murderer?" Bellingham, who still held the pistol in his hand, answered, "I am the unfortunate man," and he was immediately seized and searched. Mr. V. G. Dowling was among the first who went up to him; and on his examining his person, he found in his left-hand trousers pocket a pistol loaded with ball and primed. There were also found upon him an opera-glass, with which he had been accustomed to examine the persons of the members of the House while sitting in the gallery, and a number of papers. Upon his being interrogated as to his motives for committing such an act, he replied, "Want of redress, and denial of justice."

During the momentary confusion which followed the firing of the pistol, he made no attempt to escape; and though when taken into custody he betrayed some agitation, he soon recovered his self-possession, and with great calmness answered every question put to him.

During his examination before the magistrates up-stairs in the House of Commons, he still retained his self-possession, and even corrected a witness as to an omission in his evidence. He persisted in denying any personal enmity to Mr. Perceval, for whose death he expressed the greatest sorrow, separating, by a confusion of ideas, the man from the minister; and seemed to think he had not injured the individual, though he had taken away the life of the chancellor of the exchequer.

This event excited the greatest sensation in the country. A cabinet council was called, and the mails were stopped, until instructions were prepared to secure tranquillity in the districts; for at first it was apprehended that the assassin was instigated by political motives, and that he was connected with some treasonable association.

Measures being provided for securing order through the country and the metropolis, Bellingham was removed, under a strong military escort, about one o'clock in the morning, to Newgate, and conducted to a room adjoining the chapel. One of the head turnkeys, and two other persons, sat up with him all night. He retired to bed soon after his arrival at the jail; but he was disturbed during the night, and had no sound sleep. He rose soon after seven o'clock, and requested some tea for breakfast, of which, however, he took but little. No private persons were admitted to see him, but he was visited in the course of the day by the sheriffs and some other public functionaries. He conversed very cheerfully with the sheriffs and others who were in his room, and expressed no regret for the deed which he had perpetrated, conceiving himself, as he stated, justified in what he had done; and that it now only remained for the laws of his country to determine the nature of his guilt, which he did not seem to view in a criminal light. He stated that the question would soon be tried, when it would be seen how far he was justified. He considered the whole as "a private matter between him and the government, who gave him a carte blanche to do his worst, which he had done."

Alderman Combe, as one of the committing magistrates, was very active in his endeavours to trace Bellingham's connexions and habits, and for that purpose went to the house of a respectable woman where he lodged in New Millman-street, but could learn from her nothing that indicated any conspiracy with others. His landlady represented him as a quiet inoffensive man, though at times rather eccentric, which she instanced by observing, that when he had lodged there only three weeks, at 10_s._ 6_d._ per week, she was surprised to find that he had given her servant-maid half-a-guinea for herself. On being told the deed which he had perpetrated at five o'clock, on Monday the 11th of May, 1812, she said that was impossible; for that she had met him a few minutes before that time, when he told her, that he had just been to buy a prayer-book. She represented him as of a religious turn of mind.

In jail the prisoner requested to have pen, ink, and paper, to write some letters to his friends; and he accordingly wrote one to his family at Liverpool, which was delivered open to Mr. Newman. The following was sent to Mrs. Roberts, No. 9, New Millman-street, the lady at whose house he lodged. It will serve to show the state of his mind in the miserable situation to which he had reduced himself:

"Tuesday morning, Old Bailey.

"DEAR MADAM,--Yesterday midnight I was escorted to this neighbourhood by a noble troop of Light Horse, and delivered into the care of Mr. Newman (by Mr. Taylor, the magistrate, and M. P.) as a state prisoner of the first class. For eight years I have never found my mind so tranquil as since this melancholy but necessary catastrophe: as the merits or demerits of my peculiar case must be regularly unfolded in a criminal court of justice to ascertain the guilty party, by a jury of my country. I have to request the favour of you to send me three or four shirts, some cravats, handkerchiefs, night-caps, stockings, &c., out of my drawers, together with comb, soap, tooth-brush, with any other trifle that presents itself which you think I may have occasion for, and inclose them in my leather trunk, and the key please to send sealed, per bearer; also my great-coat, flannel gown, and black waistcoat: which will much oblige,

"Dear madam, your very obedient servant,

"JOHN BELLINGHAM. "To the above please to add the prayer-books.

"TO MRS. ROBERTS."

Soon after two o'clock the wretched prisoner ate a hearty dinner, and requested that in future he might dine at about the same hour; and after passing the rest of the day in a tranquil manner, he retired to bed at twelve, and slept until seven the next morning, being attended by two persons during the night. He breakfasted at about nine o'clock, and appeared perfectly composed; and on the sheriffs revisiting him, accompanied by several gentlemen, he was found to be unaltered in his demeanour. On his being spoken to on the subject of his trial, he conversed with apparent indifference; but on the melancholy fact of Mr. Perceval's murder being alluded to, he became less tranquil, persisted in vindicating the act, and said that when his trial came on before a jury of his countrymen, it would be for them to determine how far a minister of the crown was justified in refusing justice to an injured individual; and he declared that if he had a thousand lives to lose, he would have risked them in pursuit of justice in the same way. He spoke of the result of his trial with the utmost confidence; and on his being asked whether he had any commands to his wife at Liverpool, he declared that he had not, and that in a day or two he should join her in that city.

On the 15th of May, 1812, four days after the death of Mr. Perceval, the trial of the prisoner came on at the Old Bailey. The judges at ten o'clock took their seats on each side of the lord mayor; and the recorder, the Duke of Clarence, the Marquis Wellesley, and almost all the aldermen of the city of London, occupied the bench. The court was crowded to excess, and no distinction of rank was observed; so that members of the house of commons were forced to mingle in the throng. There were also present a great number of ladies, all led by the most intense curiosity to behold the assassin, and to hear what he might urge in defence or in palliation of his atrocious act.

At length Bellingham appeared, and advanced to the bar with a firm step, and quite undismayed. He bowed to the court most respectfully, and even gracefully; and it is impossible to describe the impression which his appearance, accompanied by this unexpected fortitude, produced. He was dressed in a light brown surtout coat, and striped yellow waistcoat; his hair plainly dressed, and without powder.

Before the prisoner was called on regularly to plead, Mr. Alley, his counsel, made application to have the trial postponed, for the purpose of procuring proofs of his client's insanity, which was alleged in two affidavits he held; and he said that he had no doubt, if time were allowed, that the prisoner could be proved to be insane. Mr. Alley was here interrupted by the court, who refused to hear him until the prisoner had first pleaded.

When the indictment was read, the usual question, "Guilty, or not guilty?" was put to Bellingham; when he addressed the court:--"My lords,--Before I can plead to this indictment, I must state, in justice to myself, that by hurrying on my trial I am placed in a most remarkable situation. It so happens that my prosecutors are actually the witnesses against me. All the documents on which alone I could rest my defence have been taken from me, and are now in possession of the crown. It is only two days since I was told to prepare for my defence; and when I asked for my papers, I was told they could not be given up. It is therefore, my lords, rendered utterly impossible for me to go into my justification; and under the circumstances in which I find myself, a trial is absolutely useless. The papers are to be given to me after the trial, but how can that avail me for my defence? I am, therefore, not ready for my trial."

The attorney-general was proceeding to explain to the court what had been done with reference to the prisoner's papers, when--

Chief-justice Mansfield interrupted him, observing, it was necessary the prisoner should first plead.

The prisoner was again interrogated, when he pleaded "Not guilty" to both counts of the indictment.

The attorney-general--"I will now answer what has fallen from the prisoner. He says, that he has been denied access to his papers. It is true that government, for the purposes of justice, has retained them--but it is also true, that he has been informed that if he asked for them at the time of his trial they should be ready; and any of them, which he might think useful to his defence, should be given to him; and in the mean time, if he considered it necessary, he might have copies of them. This we are ready to verify on oath."

The clerk of the arraigns, Mr. Shelton, then read the indictment, which charged the prisoner in the usual way with the murder of the Right Hon. Spencer Perceval, with which he was also charged on the coroner's inquisition.

Mr. Abbott having opened the case,

The Attorney-general addressed the jury. He said that a lamentable and painful task devolved upon him to state to the jury the circumstances of this horrid murder,--a crime perpetrated on a man whose whole life, he should have thought, would have guarded and protected him against such an attack--who, he was sure, if enough of life had been left him to see by whose hand he had fallen, would have spent his last moment in uttering a prayer for the forgiveness of his murderer. But it was not a time for him to dwell on the public loss, which had been sustained,--its brightest ornament had been torn from the country--but the country had done justice to his memory. These were not considerations, however, by which they must be swayed. It was not revenge, nor was it resentment, that ought to have any influence on their consideration of the question. They were to satisfy public justice--to take care, by their verdict, that the public should not be exposed to such horrid crimes. With respect to the prisoner, he knew nothing; nor did he know how his life had been spent, except so far as related to the circumstances of the case. He had been in business, and had acted as a merchant, in the course of which he had shown himself a man of sound understanding in every act which he performed; and he had not only conducted his own affairs with understanding, but he had been selected by other persons to manage theirs. Having stated the main facts of the case as we have already detailed them, he entreated the jury to consider it not as the murder of so eminent a person, but as the murder of a common individual--to suppose the meanest subject to have suffered as Mr. Perceval had suffered, and to return their verdict as they would upon that case. Was he or was he not guilty?--to that point they must direct their attention, and he knew of no reason to cause even a doubt. But what remained? This only,--the attempt which had been made that day to put off the trial of the prisoner, on the ground of his being fit for this or any other crime, as he was afflicted with insanity. Let them consider this a little. The prisoner was a man conducting himself like others in all the ordinary circumstances of life--who carried on business, none of his family or friends interfering--no pretence being suggested that he was unable to superintend his own affairs. What clearer proofs, then, could be given to show, contrary to the defence set up, that he was not what the law called non compos mentis--that he was an accountable being? He knew the cases where the plea of insanity would be received--where for instance a murder was committed by a person whose mental infirmity might be considered as very nearly the absence of all mind. Against their defence there was no argument. But he was this day to learn, whether the wickedness of the act which the prisoner was called on to answer was to be considered an excuse for its perpetration. Travelling through his whole life, what ground could they adduce for such a plea? His every act appeared rational, except one; and that was only irrational, because it was so horrid that the imagination of man could not fancy to itself the existence of so atrocious a deed. But how far must this argument go? It must arrive at this conclusion--that every act of gross and unusual atrocity would carry its defence along with it, that every act of peculiar horror would have within itself a certain defence, for the barbarity of the deed would be considered as a proof that the mind which directed it was not in a state of sufficient security to judge whether the action was right or wrong; and if the mind possessed the power of forming that judgment, the prisoner was criminally accountable for the act. A man might be infirm in mind, insufficient to dispose of his property, or to judge of the claims of his respective relatives; and if he were in that situation, the management of his affairs might be taken from him and vested in trustees: but such a man was not discharged from criminal acts because he could not transact civil business. Many cases had occurred within his memory in courts of law, in which it was proved that a person in many respects had evinced symptoms of insanity up to a certain time; but the question then was, whether that insanity was of such a description as precluded or permitted the knowledge of right or wrong? In every one of the cases which recurred to his memory, though a certain degree of madness was proved, still as the parties seemed to have sufficient sense to distinguish right from wrong at the time of the perpetration of the acts charged against them, they were held to be criminally accountable. Here there was no deficiency of understanding whatever--no opinion of others to that effect was adduced; on the contrary, he was entrusted with the management of his own and others' affairs. The question was, whether at the time the murder was perpetrated he possessed sufficient sense to distinguish between right and wrong? What conclusion could they draw in favour of the idea which had been suggested? Let them take from their recollection the frightful nature of the act with the commission of which he was charged, let them take from it its accumulated horrors, and the prisoner stood before them in a state of sanity, and fully accountable for the act, of which, he thought, little doubt could be entertained he had been guilty.--The learned gentleman concluded by expressing his satisfaction at the fact that the prisoner stood alone on that occasion; that he was unconnected with, and unaided and uninfluenced by any other person or party in the country, and that this deed could not therefore be attributed to any but the personal feelings which he entertained towards his majesty's government. On him, and on him only, did the disgrace which he had excited rest, and the character of the country was entirely free from any participation in it.

The first witness called on the part of the crown was--

Mr. William Smith (M. P. for Norwich), who, being sworn, deposed as follows:--

He was on his way to attend the House of Commons on the evening of Monday, the 11th of May, and was going through the lobby towards the door of the house, when he heard the report of a pistol, which appeared to have been fired close to the entrance-door of the lobby. Immediately on the report, he turned towards the place from whence the noise appeared to proceed, and observed a tumult, and probably a dozen or more persons about the spot. Almost in the same instant he saw a person rush hastily from among the crowd, and heard several voices cry out, "Shut the doors--let no one escape." The person came towards him from the crowd, looking first one way, then another, rather like one seeking for shelter than the person wounded. But taking two or three steps towards the witness, he reeled by him, and almost instantaneously fell on the floor with his face downward. Before he fell, witness heard him cry, though not very distinctly; and in what he uttered, he heard the word "murder!" or something very like it. When he first fell, witness thought that he might have been slightly wounded, and expected to see him make an effort to rise; but gazing on him for a few moments, he observed that he did not stir at all, and he, therefore, immediately stooped down to raise him from the ground, requesting the assistance of a gentleman close by him for the purpose. As soon as they had turned his face upwards, and not till then, he found that it was Mr. Perceval. They then took him into their arms, and carried him into the office of the speaker's secretary, where they seated themselves on the table, with Mr. Perceval between them, also sitting on the table, and resting on their arms. His face was now perfectly pale, the blood issuing in small quantities from each corner of his mouth, and probably in two or three minutes from the firing of the pistol all signs of life had ceased. The eyes of the unfortunate gentleman were open, but he did not appear to know witness, nor to take any notice of any person about him, nor did he utter the least articulate sound from the moment he fell. A few convulsive sobs, which lasted perhaps three or four moments, together with scarcely a perceptible pulse, were the only signs of life which appeared then, and those continued but a very short time longer; and when witness felt Mr. Perceval's pulse for the last time, just before Mr. Lynn, the surgeon, arrived, it appeared to him that he was quite dead. Witness remained supporting the body until it was conveyed into the speaker's house, but he was unable to give any account of what passed in the lobby.

Mr. William Lynn, a surgeon in Great George-street, deposed that he was called to the deceased, but on his arrival he was quite dead. There was blood upon his white waistcoat and shirt; and upon his examining the body, he found that there was an opening in the skin. He probed the wound three inches downwards, and entertained no doubt that the pistol-ball passed into the heart, and was the cause of death.

Mr. Henry Burgess, a solicitor who was in the lobby, stated, that after having seen Mr. Perceval fall, as had been already described, he heard some one exclaim, "That's the man!" and saw a hand pointing towards the bench by the fire-place, which is on one side of the lobby. He immediately went over to the bench, and saw the prisoner at the bar sitting on it in great agitation. There were one or two persons by him; he looked at his hands, and saw his left hand on the bench; and near or under his other hand he saw a pistol, which he took, and asked the prisoner what had induced him to do such a deed? He replied, "Want of redress of grievances, and refusal by government," or words to that effect. Witness then said to the prisoner, "You have another pistol?" He replied, "Yes." Witness asked if it was loaded? to which he answered in the affirmative. Witness then saw some person take the other pistol from his person. The pistol which witness took from the prisoner was warm, and appeared as if it had been recently discharged. The lock was down and the pan open. (Here the pistol was produced, and recognised by the witness.) He then stated, that he put his hand into the right waistcoat-pocket of the prisoner, from which he took a small penknife and a pencil, and from his left-hand waistcoat-pocket he took a bunch of keys and some money. The prisoner was detained in custody, and examined shortly afterwards above stairs in the House of Commons before the magistrates. Witness related in the presence of the prisoner, on that occasion, the facts which he had now detailed. When he had concluded, the prisoner made an observation to this effect, as well as he could recollect. "I wish to correct Mr. Burgess' statement in one point; but I believe he is perfectly correct in every other. Instead of my hand being, as Mr. Burgess stated, upon or near the pistol, I think he took it from my hand, or upon it."

James Taylor, a tailor, at No. 11, North Place, Gray's-Inn Lane, deposed that he had been employed by the prisoner to repair some clothes. He was afterwards in Guildford Street, when the prisoner called him, and took him to his lodgings in Millman Street, and there directed him to put a side-pocket into a coat, which he gave him, of a particular length which he pointed out. He completed the job on the same night, and carried the coat home.

Mr. John Morris stated that he often attended in the gallery appropriated for strangers, and went down to the House on Monday, the 11th of May, for that purpose. He passed into the lobby about the hour of five in the afternoon. He observed the prisoner at the bar standing in the lobby near the outer door; he was standing beside that part of the door which is generally closed. It was a double door, and one half was usually closed, within which half the prisoner was standing, and any one to have entered the lobby must have passed him at arm's length. He observed the prisoner as if watching for somebody coming, and he appeared to look anxiously towards the door. As well as the witness recollected, the prisoner had his right hand within the left breast of his coat. Witness passed on to the staircase of the gallery, and almost immediately after he got into the upper lobby, he heard the report of a pistol, and found soon after that it was connected with the fatal event which occurred on that evening. He had frequently seen the prisoner before in the gallery, where gentlemen who report the parliamentary proceedings resorted, and about the passages of the House of Commons.

John Vickery, a Bow Street officer, said that he went on Monday afternoon to New Millman Street, to the lodgings of the prisoner, which he searched, and found, in the bed-room up stairs, a pair of pistol-bags, and in the same drawer a small powder-flask, and some powder in a small paper, a box with some bullets, and some small flints wrapped in paper. There was also a pistol-key to unscrew the pistol for the purpose of loading, and some sand-paper and a pistol-mould. The witness on comparing the bullet found in the loaded pistol with the mould, and the screw with the pistols, found them all to correspond.

Mr. Vincent George Dowling was next called. He stated that he was in the gallery on the afternoon in question, and ran down into the lobby on hearing the report of a pistol. He saw the prisoner at the bar sitting on a stool, and going to him, he seized him and began to search his person. He took from his left-hand small-clothes pocket a small pistol, which he produced, and which, on his examining it, he found to be loaded with powder and ball. It was primed as well as loaded. The pistol which had been discharged and that which he took from the prisoner were in his belief a brace; they were of the same size and bore, and were marked with the same maker's name. The witness had seen the prisoner several times before in the gallery and in the avenues of the house, and to the best of his recollection the last time he saw him was six or seven days before the death of Mr. Perceval. He was frequently in the gallery during the debates, and upon several occasions entered into conversation with the witness. He had often asked for information as to the names of the gentlemen speaking, and also as to the persons of the members of his majesty's government.

Other witnesses from Newgate produced the coat worn by the prisoner at the time of his apprehension, and it was identified by Taylor as the same into which he had put the side-pocket.

Lord Chief-justice Mansfield then addressed the prisoner, and told him, that the case on the part of the crown being now gone through, the period was come for him to make any defence he might wish to offer.

The prisoner asked whether his counsel had nothing to urge in his defence?

Mr. Alley informed him that his counsel were not entitled to speak.

The prisoner then said that the documents and papers necessary to his defence had been taken out of his pocket, and had not since been restored to him.

Mr. Garrow said, that it was the intention of the counsel for the crown to restore him his papers, having first proved them to be the same which were taken from him, and had not suffered any subtraction; and that his solicitor already had copies of them.

General Gascoigne and Mr. Hume (M. P. for Weymouth) proved that the papers were those which had been taken from the person of the prisoner, and that they had been in their custody ever since, and had suffered no subtraction.

The papers were then handed to the prisoner, who proceeded to arrange and examine them.

The prisoner, who had been hitherto sitting, now rose, and, bowing respectfully to the court and jury, went into his defence, in a firm tone of voice, and without any appearance of embarrassment. He spoke nearly to the following effect:--

"I feel great personal obligation to the attorney-general for the objection which he has made to the plea of insanity. I think it is far more fortunate that such a plea as that should have been unfounded, than that it should have existed in fact. I am obliged to my counsel, however, for having thus endeavoured to consult my interest, as I am convinced the attempt has arisen from the kindest motives. That I am or have been insane is a circumstance of which I am not apprised, except in the single instance of my having been confined in Russia; how far that may be considered as affecting my present situation, it is not for me to determine. This is the first time that I have ever spoken in public in this way. I feel my own incompetency, but I trust you will attend to the substance, rather than to the manner, of my investigating the truth of an affair which has occasioned my presence at this bar. I beg to assure you that the crime which I have committed has arisen from compulsion rather than from any hostility to the man whom it has been my fate to destroy. Considering the amiable character and universally admitted virtues of Mr. Perceval, I feel, if I could murder him in a cool and unjustifiable manner, I should not deserve to live another moment in this world. Conscious, however, that I shall be able to justify everything which I have done, I feel some degree of confidence in meeting the storm which assails me, and shall now proceed to unfold a catalogue of circumstances which, while they harrow up my own soul, will, I am sure, tend to the extenuation of my conduct in this honourable court. This, as has already been candidly stated by the attorney-general, is the first instance in which any the slightest imputation has been cast upon my moral character. Until this fatal catastrophe, which no one can more heartily regret than I do, not excepting even the family of Mr. Perceval himself, I have stood alike pure in the minds of those who have known me, and in the judgment of my own heart. I hope I see this affair in the true light. For eight years, gentlemen of the jury, have I been exposed to all the miseries which it is possible for human nature to endure. Driven almost to despair, I sought for redress in vain. For this affair I had the carte blanche of government, as I will prove by the most incontestible evidence, namely, the writing of the secretary of state himself. I come before you under peculiar disadvantages. Many of my most material papers are now at Liverpool, for which I have written; but I have been called upon my trial before it was possible to obtain an answer to my letter. Without witnesses, therefore, and in the absence of many papers necessary to my justification, I am sure you will admit I have just grounds for claiming some indulgence. I must state that after my voyage to Archangel, I transmitted to his royal highness the Prince Regent, through Mr. Windle, my solicitor, a petition, and in consequence of there being no reply I came to London to see the result. Surprised at the delay, and conceiving that the interests of my country were at stake, I considered this step as essential, as well for the assertion of my own right as for the vindication of the national honour. I waited upon Colonel MacMahon, who stated that my petition had been received, but, owing to some accident, had been mislaid. Under these circumstances, I drew out another account of the particulars of the Russian affair; and this may be considered the commencement of that train of events which led to the afflicting and unhappy fate of Mr. Perceval."

The prisoner then read various documents containing the statement the whole of his affairs in Russia; and in the course of narrating these hardships, took occasion to explain several points, adverting with great feeling to the unhappy situation in which he was placed, from the circumstance of his having been lately married to his wife, then about twenty years of age, with an infant at her breast, and who had been waiting for him at St. Petersburgh, in order that she might accompany him to England,--a prey to all those anxieties which the unexpected and cruel incarceration of her husband, without any just grounds, was calculated to excite. (He was here much affected.) He also described his feelings at a subsequent period, when his wife, from an anxiety to reach her native country (England) when in a state of pregnancy, and looking to the improbability of his liberation, was obliged to quit Petersburgh unprotected, and undertake the voyage at the peril of her life; while Lord L. Gower and Sir S. Shairp suffered him to remain in a situation worse than death. "My God! my God!" he exclaimed, "what heart could bear such excruciating tortures, without bursting with indignation at conduct so diametrically opposite to justice and to humanity. I appeal to you, gentlemen of the jury, as men--I appeal to you as brothers--I appeal to you as Christians--whether, under such circumstances of persecution, it was possible to regard the actions of the ambassador and consul of my own country with any other feelings but those of detestation and horror! In using language thus strong, I feel that I commit an error; yet does my heart tell me, that towards men who lent themselves thus to bolster up the basest acts of persecution, there are no observations, however strong, which the strict justice of the case would not excuse my using. Had I been so fortunate as to have met Lord Leveson Gower instead of that truly amiable and highly-lamented individual, Mr. Perceval, he is the man who should have received the ball!"

The prisoner then went on to state that on his coming to England he had represented his hardships to the Marquis Wellesley, from whose secretary he received the following answer:--

"Foreign Office, January 31, 1810.

"SIR,--I am directed by the Marquis Wellesley to transmit to you the papers which you sent to this office, accompanied by your letter of the 27th of last month; and I am to inform you, that his majesty's government is precluded from interfering in the support of your case, in some measure, by the circumstances of the case itself, and entirely so at the present moment by the suspension of intercourse with the court of St. Petersburgh.

"I am, &c.

(Signed) "CULLING CHARLES SMITH."

"I would beg to know (he continued) what course it was possible for me, after receiving this letter, to pursue? If his majesty's government thus refused me redress, what must be my next step? The only thing I could do was, to bring a serious charge against Sir Stephen Shairp and Lord Leveson Gower; which I accordingly did, by addressing a complete statement of my case to the privy council, from whom I received the following answer:--

"'Council Office, Whitehall, May 16, 1810.

"'Sir,--I am directed by the lords of the council to acquaint you, that their lordships having taken into consideration your petition on the subject of your arrest in Russia, do not find that it is a matter in which their Lordships can, in any manner, interfere.

'I am, Sir, &c.

'W. FAWKNER.'

"Having then understood that any remuneration which I might conceive myself entitled to, I could only procure through the medium of parliament, I applied myself to several members of parliament, to ascertain what line of conduct I ought to pursue in order to obtain that desirable end. These gentlemen told me, that I should make application to the chancellor of the exchequer--thus petitioning for leave to bring in a petition upon a subject which, being well founded, became a matter of right, and not of favour. In consequence, however, of this advice, I did write a letter to Mr. Perceval, from whom I received an answer dated Downing Street, 27th May 1810, as follows:--

"'SIR,--I am desired by Mr. Perceval to state to you, in reply to your letter of yesterday, that the time for presenting private petitions has long since passed; and that Mr. Perceval cannot encourage you to expect his sanction in introducing into the house a petition which Mr. Perceval thinks is not of a nature for the consideration of parliament.

'I am, &c.

'THOMAS BROOKSBANK.'

"I apprehend, however, that this information is not founded in fact: if I am wrong, I see several gentlemen round me, connected with the house of commons, who will set me right. That there is no particular time limited for the presentation of private petitions, and that they might be brought forward at any period of the session, I am inclined to think the usages of the house will permit. The latter clause of Mr. Perceval's letter, which states that my claims are not of a nature for the consideration of parliament, appears to me inexplicable. If they are not referred to that branch of the legislature, to whose consideration then ought they to be submitted? Yet thus was I bandied about from man to man, and from place to place. Suppose this had been the case with either of you, gentlemen of the jury, and that your sufferings had been equal to mine, what would have been your feelings? It is the duty of every individual to apply through the proper channel for redress, and through what other channel ought you to apply but through the heads of government? Upon this occasion, however, those whose duty it was to have redressed my grievances treated them with indifference, and were deaf to the dictated of justice. In consequence of this denial on the part of Mr. Perceval to investigate a business in which the national honour was concerned, I was left at a loss how to act, or what course to pursue: I, therefore, returned home, and remained inactive for nearly eighteen months, when, finding that I could no longer hold up against the ruinous effects of those failures which were the consequence of the injustice with which I had been treated, every one coming upon me for that which I was unable to pay, and my family borne down by the deepest affliction at the distresses to which they were exposed, I found it necessary to renew my applications, which I did to the treasury, and submitted to them a petition, reiterating those claims I had so unsuccessfully made before. To this application I received for answer--

"'Treasury Chambers, Feb. 24, 1810.

"'SIR,--Having laid before the lords commissioners of his majesty's treasury your petition of the 16th instant, submitting a statement of losses sustained by you in Russia, and praying relief, I am commanded by their lordships to return to you the documents transmitted therewith, and to acquaint you that my lords are not able to afford you any relief.

'I am, &c.

'GEO. HARRISON.'

"I next made application to his royal highness the Prince Regent to have my affairs laid before parliament, explaining anew the disgraceful conduct of the consul and ambassador at Russia, who, by suffering me to be so persecuted, had been guilty of an act which brought eternal disgrace on the country. (Here he read documents similar to the former, and repeated all the statements respecting the manner in which he had been treated in Russia.) The answer I received was as follows:

"'Whitehall, Feb. 18, 1812.

"'SIR,--I am directed by Mr. Secretary Ryder to acquaint you that your petition to his royal highness the Prince Regent has been referred, by the command of his royal highness, for the consideration of the lords of his majesty's most honourable privy council.

'I am, &c.

'J. BECKETT.'

"After this I made application to the privy council office, and had communications with Lord Chetwynd and Mr. Duller, the two clerks of that council, who informed me that I had nothing to expect from their decision. I then applied to know the reason in writing, why the privy council declined to act in obedience to the instructions of his royal highness the Prince Regent; which request I was informed by Mr. Litchfield could not be complied with.

"Under these circumstances, I communicated the whole to his royal highness, and enclosed to him a petition to be laid before parliament. (The petition was here read, and the answer of Mr. Beckett, dated March 9, 1812, stating that his royal highness had signified no commands thereupon, and returning the petition accordingly.) So baffled (he pursued), what could a man do? Reduced to the last extremity of distress without having been guilty of a single political crime which could call for reprehension, here I was forced to the commission of that melancholy act (bursting into tears) which I, as well as my country, have so sincerely to regret. My wife and my poor children crying for the means of existence, what alternative had I but to seek redress by some such dreadful act as that for which I have now to answer? His majesty's ministers, referring me backwards and forwards like a shuttlecock, without showing the slightest disposition even to regard my wrongs as deserving of the smallest consideration, in duty to myself, I was forced to seek justice, and avenge my own cause. I was told I could not get my case before parliament without the sanction of his majesty's ministers. To General Gascoigne, for the politeness and attention with which he heard my statement, and the disposition he evinced to relieve me were it in his power, I have to express my gratitude. He informed me, if any of his majesty's ministers would sanction my claims, and that I was able to authenticate the particulars I had related, he should be happy to meet my wishes by laying my petition before the house. Supposing now that I should feel little difficulty in obtaining such sanction, and satisfied that by a journey to Liverpool I should be able to produce documents which would fully establish the truth of every word I had uttered, I began to hope that the goal of my long-hoped-for wishes was now in view. I, therefore, directed a letter to Mr. Ryder, requesting the permission I understood to be essential to my purpose. Here, however, my expectations were again blasted, and those flattering dreams of success which had filled my mind with joy were dashed for ever from my reach; and this letter at once showed me that I had no justice to look for." Here he read the letter as follows:--

"Whitehall, March 20, 1812.

"SIR,--I am directed by Mr. Secretary Ryder to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the 17th instant, requesting permission, on the part of his majesty's ministers, to present your petition to the house of commons; and in reply I am to acquaint you, that you should address your application to the right hon. the chancellor of the exchequer.

"I am, &c.

"J. BECKETT."

"At last, then, I was told I had nothing to expect, and was forced reluctantly to notice in a more determined manner the ill-treatment I had received. To this end I enclosed the particulars of my case to the magistrates of Bow Street. (The prisoner then read the letter which we have already given.)

"In the course of two days I called again at Bow Street for an answer to this letter, when I received a little memorandum, in Mr. Reid's writing, in which he states that he cannot interfere in my affairs, and that he had felt it his duty to communicate the contents of my packet to the secretary of state. Had he done otherwise he would have been extremely reprehensible, as events have turned out so calamitously--events which go to my heart to allude to. (Much affected.) At last, in reply to a letter of the 18th of April, I received a final and direct answer, which at once convinced me that I had no reason to expect any adjustment whatever of those claims which I had on his majesty's government, for my criminal detention in Russia. It was in these terms:--

"'Whitehall, April 18, 1812.

"'SIR,--I am directed by Mr. Secretary Ryder to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the 13th instant, requesting to be informed in what stage your claim on his majesty's government for criminal detention in Russia now is. In reply, I am to refer you to my several letters of the 18th of February, 9th and 20th of March, by which you have been already informed that your first petition to his royal highness the Prince Regent, praying for remuneration, had been referred to the consideration of the lords of the council. That upon your second memorial, praying his royal highness to give orders that the subject should be brought before parliament, his royal highness had not been pleased to signify any commands. And, lastly, in answer to your application to Mr. Ryder, requesting permission on the part of his majesty's ministers to present your petition to the house of commons, you were informed that your application should be addressed to the right hon. the chancellor of the exchequer.

'I am, &c.

'J. BECKETT.'

"After this, on personal application at the office of the secretary of state, and intimating my intention to take justice in my own hand, I was told, by the mouth of Mr. Hill, that I was at liberty to take such measures as I thought proper. Who then is to be reprobated in this case?--those who were regardless of every feeling of honour and of justice, or him who, spurred on by injury and neglect, and with a due notice of his intentions, pursued the only course likely to lead to a satisfactory termination of calamities which had weighed him down to the lowest ebb of misery! I will now only mention a few observations by way of defence. You have before you all the particulars of this melancholy transaction. Believe me, gentlemen, the rashness of which I have been guilty has not been dictated by any personal animosity to Mr. Perceval, rather than injure whom, from private or malicious motives, I would suffer my limbs to be cut from my body. (Here the prisoner seemed again much agitated.)

"If, whenever I am called before the tribunal of God, I can appear with as clear a conscience as I now possess in regard to the alleged charge of the wilful murder of the unfortunate gentleman, the investigation of whose death has occupied your attention, it would be happy for me, as essentially securing to me eternal salvation; but that is impossible. That my arm has been the means of his melancholy and lamented exit, I am ready to allow. But to constitute murder, it must clearly and absolutely be proved to have arisen from malice prepense, and with a malicious design, as I have no doubt the learned judge will shortly lay down, in explaining the law on the subject. If such is the case, I am guilty; if not, I look forward with confidence to your acquittal.

"That the contrary is the case has been most clearly and irrefutably proved; no doubt can rest upon your minds, as my uniform and undeviating object has been an endeavour to obtain justice, according to law, for a series of the most long-continued and unmerited sufferings that were ever submitted to a court of law, without having been guilty of any other crime than an appeal for redress for a most flagrant injury offered to my sovereign and my country, wherein my liberty and property have fallen a sacrifice for the continued period of eight years, to the total ruin of myself and family (with authenticated documents of the truth of the allegations), merely because it was Mr. Perceval's pleasure that justice should not be granted, sheltering himself with the idea of there being no alternative remaining, as my petition to parliament for redress could not be brought (as having a pecuniary tendency) without the sanction of his Majesty's ministers, and that he was determined to oppose my claim, by trampling both on law and right.

"Gentlemen, where a man has so strong and serious a criminal case to bring forward as mine has been, the nature of which was purely national, it is the bounden duty of government to attend to it; for justice is a matter of right, and not of favour. And when a minister is so unprincipled and presumptuous at any time, but especially in a case of such urgent necessity, to set himself above both the sovereign and the laws, as has been the case with Mr. Perceval, he must do it at his personal risk; for by the law he cannot be protected.

"Gentlemen, if this is not fact, the mere will of a minister would be law; it would be this thing to-day and the other thing to-morrow, as either interest or caprice might dictate.--What would become of our liberties? Where would be the purity and the impartiality of the justice we so much boast of?--To government's non-attendance to the dictates of justice is solely to be attributed the melancholy catastrophe of the unfortunate gentleman, as any malicious intention to his injury was the most remote from my heart. Justice, and justice only, was my object, which government uniformly objected to grant; and the distress it reduced me to, drove me to despair in consequence; and, purely for the purpose of having this singular affair legally investigated, I gave notice at the public office, Bow Street, requesting the magistrates to acquaint his majesty's ministers, that if they persisted in refusing justice, or even to permit me to bring my just petition into parliament for redress, I should be under the imperious necessity of executing justice myself, solely for the purpose of ascertaining, through a criminal court, whether his majesty's ministers have the power to refuse justice to a well-authenticated and irrefutable act of oppression, committed by the consul and ambassador abroad, whereby my sovereign's and country's honour were materially tarnished, by my person endeavouring to be made the stalking-horse of justification, to one of the greatest insults that could be offered to the crown. But in order to avoid so reluctant and abhorrent an alternative, I hoped to be allowed to bring my petition to the house of commons--or that they would do what was right and proper themselves. On my return from Russia, I brought most serious charges to the privy council, both against Sir Stephen Shairp and Lord Granville Leveson Gower, when the affair was determined to be purely national, and consequently it was the duty of his majesty's ministers to arrange it by acting on the resolution of the council. Suppose, for instance, the charge I brought could have been proved to be erroneous, should not I have been called to a severe account for my conduct? But, being true, ought not I to have been redressed?

"After the notice from the police to government, Mr. Ryder, conscious of the truth and cruelty of the case, transmitted the affair to the Treasury, referring me there for a final result. After a delay of some weeks, the Treasury came to the resolution of sending the affair back to the secretary of state's office; at the same time I was told by a Mr. Hill, that he thought it would be useless my making further application to government, and that I was at liberty to take such measures as I thought proper for redress.

"Mr. Beckett, the under-secretary of state, confirmed the same, adding that Mr. Perceval had been consulted, and could not allow my petition to come forward. This direct refusal of justice, with a carte blanche to act in whatever manner I thought proper, were the sole causes of the fatal catastrophe--and they have now to reflect on their own impure conduct for what has happened.

"It is a melancholy fact, that the warping of justice, including all the various ramifications in which it operates, occasions more misery in the world, in a moral sense, than all the acts of God in a physical one, with which he punishes mankind for their transgressions; a confirmation of which, the single, but strong, instance before you is one remarkable proof.

"If a poor unfortunate man stops another upon the highway, and robs him of but a few shillings, he may be called upon to forfeit his life. But I have been robbed of my liberty for years, ill-treated beyond precedent, torn from my wife and family, bereaved of all my property to make good the consequences of such irregularities, deprived and bereaved of everything that makes life valuable, and then called upon to forfeit it, because Mr. Perceval has been pleased to patronize iniquity that ought to have been punished, for the sake of a vote or two in the House of Commons, with, perhaps, a similar good turn elsewhere.

"Is there, gentlemen, any comparison between the enormity of these two offenders? No more than a mite to a mountain. Yet the one is carried to the gallows, while the other stalks in security, fancying himself beyond the reach of law or justice; the most honest man suffers, while the other goes forward in triumph to new and more extended enormities.

"We have had a recent and striking instance of some unfortunate men who have been called upon to pay their lives as the forfeit of their allegiance, in endeavouring to mitigate the rigours of a prison. But, gentlemen, where is the proportion between the crimes for which they suffered, and what the Government has been guilty of, in withholding its protection from me? Even in a Crown case, after the years of sufferings, I have been called upon to sacrifice all my property, and the welfare of my family, to bolster up the iniquities of the Crown; and then am prosecuted for my life, because I have taken the only possible alternative to bring the affair to a public investigation, for the purpose of being enabled to return to the bosom of my family with some degree of comfort and honour. Every man within the sound of my voice must feel for my situation; but by you, gentlemen of the jury, it must be felt in a peculiar degree, who are husbands and fathers, and can fancy yourselves in my situation.--I trust that this serious lesson will operate as a warning to all future ministers, and lead them to do the thing that is right, as an unerring rule of conduct; for, if the superior classes were more correct in their proceedings, the extensive ramifications of evil would, in a great measure, be hemmed up--and a notable proof of the fact is, that this court would never have been troubled with the case before it, had their conduct been guided by these principles.

"I have now occupied the attention of the court for a period much longer than I intended; yet, I trust, they will consider the awfulness of my situation to be a sufficient ground for a trespass, which, under other circumstances, would be inexcusable. Sooner than suffer what I have suffered for the last eight years, however, I should consider five hundred deaths, if it were possible for human nature to endure them, a fate far more preferable. Lost so long to all the endearments of my family, bereaved of all the blessings of life, and deprived of its greatest sweet, liberty, as the weary traveller, who has long been pelted by the pitiless storm, welcomes the much desired inn, I shall receive death as the relief of all my sorrows. I shall not occupy your attention longer; but, relying on the justice of God, and submitting myself to the dictates of your conscience, I submit to the fiat of my fate, firmly anticipating an acquittal from a charge so abhorrent to every feeling of my soul."

Here the prisoner bowed, and his counsel immediately proceeded to call the witnesses for the defence.

Anne Billet, who appeared under the strongest impressions of grief, being sworn, deposed, that she lived in the county of Southampton; she came to London in consequence of having read in the newspapers of the prisoner having been apprehended for the murder of Mr. Perceval. She was induced to come to town, from a conviction that she knew more of him than any other friend. She knew him from a child. He resided latterly at Liverpool, from whence he came at Christmas last. She knew him to be a merchant. His father died insane in Titchfield-street, Oxford-road; she firmly believed that, for the last three or four years, the prisoner was in a state of derangement, respecting the business which he had been pursuing. She had not seen him for twelve months until the present moment. She always thought him deranged when his Russian affairs were the subject of conversation.

When cross-examined by Mr. Garrow, she deposed, that when in London with the prisoner about twelve months since, he was going to different government offices to seek redress of his grievances. He was then in a state of derangement, as he had been ever since his return from Russia. There was one instance which occurred at the period to which she was alluding, which strongly confirmed her in the opinion of his insanity. About Christmas he told his wife and witness, that now he was come from Russia he had realised more than 100,000_l_., with which he intended to buy an estate in the west of England, and to have a house in London.--He admitted that he had not got the money, but said it was the same as if he had, for he had gained his cause in Russia, and our government would make good all the loss he had sustained. He repeatedly said to her and to his wife that this was assuredly the fact. Upon one occasion he took Mrs. Bellingham and the witness to the secretary of state's office, where they saw Mr. Smith, who said if he had not ladies with him he would not have come to him at all.--The prisoner told Mr. Smith, that the reason why he brought them was, to convince them that his claims were just, and that he would very shortly receive the money. Mr. Smith told him he could say nothing upon this subject; he had already sent him a letter alleging that he had nothing to expect. The prisoner then requested Mr. Smith would answer him one question--"My friends say I am out of my senses; is it your opinion that I am so?" Mr. Smith said it was a very delicate question, and one he did not wish to answer. Having then departed, when they got into the carriage which waited for them, he took hold of his wife's hand and said, "I hope, now, my dear, you are convinced all will now end as we wish." Since that period she knew that he had been pursuing his object alone, his wife remaining at Liverpool.

Other witnesses were called, who deposed to like facts and to their belief in the insanity of the prisoner, but Lord Chief Justice Mansfield having summed up the case, the jury, after a consultation of two minutes and a half in the box, expressed a wish to retire; and an officer of the court being sworn, accompanied them to the jury-room. As they passed out, the prisoner regarded them separately with a look of mingled confidence and complacency. They were absent fourteen minutes; and, on their return into court, their countenances, acting as indices to their minds, at once unfolded the determination to which they had come. The prisoner again directed his attention to them in the same manner as before.

The names being called over, and the verdict asked for in the usual form, the foreman in a faltering voice, announced the fatal decision of--Guilty.

The prisoner's countenance here indicated surprise, unmixed, however, with any demonstrations of that concern which the awfulness of his situation was calculated to produce.

The Recorder then passed the awful sentence of death on the prisoner in the most feeling manner, and he was ordered for execution on the following Monday, his body to be anatomised. He received the sentence without any emotion.

From the time of his condemnation, the unfortunate convict was fed upon bread and water. All means of suicide were removed, and he was not allowed to be shaved; a prohibition which gave him much concern, as he feared he should not appear as a gentleman. He was visited by the ordinary on Saturday, and some religious gentlemen called on him on Sunday, with whose conversation he seemed greatly pleased. He appeared naturally depressed by his situation; but persisted in a resolute denial of his guilt. He frequently said that he had prepared himself to go to his Father, and that he should be pleased when the hour came.

Being informed, by Mr. Newman, that two gentlemen from Liverpool had called, and left word that his wife and children would be provided for, he seemed but little affected; but, having requested pen, ink, and paper, he wrote the following letter to his wife:--

"MY BLESSED MARY,--It rejoiced me beyond measure to hear you are likely to be well provided for. I am sure the public at large will participate in, and mitigate, your sorrows; I assure you, my love, my sincerest endeavours have ever been directed to your welfare.--As we shall not meet any more in this world, I sincerely hope we shall do so in the world to come. My blessing to the boys, with kind remembrance to Miss Stephens, for whom I have the greatest regard, in consequence of her uniform affection for them. With the purest intentions, it has always been, my misfortune to be thwarted, misrepresented, and ill-used in life; but, however, we feel a happy prospect of compensation in a speedy translation to life eternal.--It's not possible to be more calm or placid than I feel, and nine hours more will waft me to those happy shores where bliss is without alloy.--Yours ever affectionate,--JOHN BELLINGHAM."

That the unfortunate man was afflicted with a strange malady, which occasionally rendered him incapable of correct conclusions, must be evident from the following note, which he wrote the night preceding his execution:--"I lost my suit solely through the improper conduct of my attorney and counsel, Mr. Alley, in not bringing my witnesses forward (of whom there were more than twenty): in consequence, the judge took advantage of the circumstance, and I went of [on] the defence without having brought forward a single friend--otherwise I must inevitably have been acquitted."

On the Monday morning at about six o'clock he rose and dressed himself with great composure, and read for half an hour in the prayer-book. Dr. Ford being then announced, the prisoner shook him most cordially by the hand, and left his cell for the room allotted for the condemned criminals. He repeated the declaration which he had frequently before made, that his mind was perfectly calm and composed, and that he was fully prepared to meet his fate with resignation. After a few minutes spent in prayer, the sacrament was administered to him, and during the whole of the ceremony he seemed to be deeply impressed with the truths of the christian religion, and repeatedly uttered some pious ejaculations. After the religious ceremony was ended, the prisoner was informed that the sheriff's were ready. He answered in a firm tone of voice, "I am perfectly ready also."

The executioner then proceeded to fasten his wrists together, and the prisoner turned up the sleeves of his coat, and clasped his hands together, presenting them to the man, who held the cord, and said, "So." When they were fastened, he desired his attendants to pull down his sleeves so as to cover the cord. The officer then proceeded to secure his arms behind him; and when the man had finished, he moved his hands upwards, as if to ascertain whether he could reach his neck, and asked whether they thought his arms were sufficiently fastened; saying, that he might struggle, and that he wished to be so secured as to prevent any inconvenience arising from it. He was answered that the cord was quite secure, but he requested that it might be tightened a little, which was accordingly done. During the whole of the awful scene he appeared perfectly composed and collected; his voice never faltered, but just before he left the room to proceed to the place of execution, he stooped down his head, and appeared to wipe away a tear. He was then conducted by the lord mayor, sheriffs, under-sheriffs and officers (Dr. Ford walking with him) from the room, in which he had remained from the time his irons were taken off, through the press-yard and the prison to the fatal spot, before the debtors' door at Newgate.

He ascended the scaffold with rather a light step, a cheerful countenance, and a confident, a calm, but not an exulting air. He looked about him a little, lightly and rapidly, which seems to have been his usual manner and gesture, but made no remark.

Before the cap was put over his face, Dr. Ford asked if he had any last communication to make, or anything particular to say. He was again proceeding to talk about Russia and his family, when Dr. Ford stopped him, calling his attention to the eternity into which he was entering; and praying, Bellingham prayed also. The clergyman then asked him how he felt; and he answered calmly and collectedly, that "he thanked God for having enabled him to meet his fate with so much fortitude and resignation." When the executioner proceeded to put the cap over his face, Bellingham objected to it, and expressed a strong wish that the business could be done without it; but Dr. Ford said that was not to be dispensed with. While the cap was being fastened on, it being tied round the lower part of the face by the prisoner's neckerchief, and just when he was tied up, about a score of persons in the mob set up a loud and reiterated cry of "God bless you!" "God save you!" This cry lasted while the cap was fastening on; and, though those who raised it were loud and daring, it was joined in by but very few. The ordinary asked Bellingham if he heard what the mob were saying. He said he heard them crying out something, but he did not understand what it was, and inquired what. The cry having by this time ceased, the clergyman did not inform him what it was. The fastening on of the cap being accomplished, the executioner retired, and a perfect silence ensued. Dr. Ford continued praying for about a minute, while the executioner went below the scaffold, and preparations were made to strike away its supporters. The clock struck eight, and while it was striking the seventh time, the clergyman and Bellingham both fervently praying, the supporters of the internal part of the scaffold were struck away, and Bellingham dropped out of sight down as far as the knees, his body being in full view, and the clergyman was left standing on the outer frame of the scaffold. When Bellingham sunk, the most perfect and awful silence prevailed; not even the slightest attempt at a huzza or noise of any kind whatever was made.

The body was afterwards carried in a cart, followed by a crowd of the lower class, to St. Bartholomew's Hospital, and privately dissected.

The greatest precautions were adopted to prevent accidents among the crowd.--A large bill was placarded at all the avenues to the Old Bailey, and carried about on a pole, to this effect:--"Beware of entering the crowd!--Remember thirty poor creatures were pressed to death by the crowd when Haggerty and Holloway were executed," and no accident of any moment occurred.

To prevent any disposition to tumult, a military force was stationed near Islington, and to the south of Blackfriars Bridge; and all the volunteer corps of the metropolis received instructions to be under arms during the whole of the day.

THE LUDDITES.

The name of this deluded faction was taken from the person by whom they represented that they were led on to commit the irregularities of which they were guilty--General Ludd. It appears that the cotton manufacturers of Nottinghamshire, Derbyshire, Leicestershire, and some parts of Yorkshire, having suffered under a considerable reduction of wages and scarcity of work, which they attributed to the very extensive introduction of machinery, associated in such numbers for the destruction of frames and looms, and the annoyance of those manufacturers who had been most forward in introducing the machines, that those counties became the seat of the most serious tumults.

The crimes of which they were generally guilty were those of administering unlawful oaths, riotously assembling, and breaking the frames and looms of the manufacturers of cloth, breaking into houses, and in some instances those persons who had had sufficient hardihood to oppose their proceedings were selected by them as victims to their passions, and were barbarously murdered. The riotous proceedings of the party continued during a considerable period, but at length the active measures, which were taken by the government against them, effectually put a stop to their depredations.

Many of them having been taken into custody a special commission was issued for their trial, and was opened by Baron Thompson, at the city of York, on Monday the 4th of January 1813, in a most impressive charge to the grand jury.

On Tuesday, the 5th, the business of the court commenced with the trial of John Swallow, John Batley, Joseph Fletcher, and John Lamb, for a burglary and felony in the house of Mr. Samuel Moxon, at Whitley Upper: the jury pronounced them all guilty.

It would be useless to go into a detail of all the cases tried before the learned judges, all of which partook strongly of the same character, and we shall therefore confine ourselves to the recital of those instances which were marked by the spilling of blood.

On the Wednesday, George Mellor, of Longroyd Bridge, and William Thorp and Thomas Smith, of Huddersfield, were indicted for the wilful murder of William Horsfall, of Marsden, merchant and manufacturer, at Lockwood, in the West Riding of Yorkshire.

From the evidence of Benjamin Walker, an accomplice of the prisoners and others, it appeared that a conspiracy was entered into to attack the mill of Mr. Cartwright, in which Mellor was one of the principals. While they were in conversation upon this subject on the 28th April, however, the same prisoner produced a loaded pistol, and said that he was going to shoot Mr. Horsfall, and that the other prisoners and Walker must accompany him. They accordingly proceeded together to a plantation near an inn called the Warren-house, at Crossland Moor, near Huddersfield, where it was arranged that they should station themselves in a line by the road, and when Mr. Horsfall came, Mellor was to fire first; and in case of his missing his aim Smith and Walker were to fire. At a quarter past six o'clock in the evening, Mr. Horsfall called at the Warren-house, on his way home from Huddersfield market, and had some rum and water, and after about twenty minutes he proceeded on his way, unconscious of the fate which awaited him. He had entered the road, which ran through the plantation, and which was only a quarter of a mile from the Warren-house, when the prisoner Mellor fired and shot him. The unfortunate gentleman on his being wounded fell on his horse's chine, and a Mr. Parr, hearing the report and seeing him fall, rode up to him, in order to assist him. Mr. Horsfall, having quitted his horse, sat down by the road side, and despatched Mr. Parr for assistance, but he died very soon afterwards.

The prisoners attempted to prove an alibi, but the jury withdrew about twenty minutes, and returned a verdict of guilty against them all. They were immediately sentenced to death.

On Friday these wretched men were brought to the place of execution, behind the Castle at York. Every precaution had been taken to render a rescue impracticable. Two troops of cavalry were drawn up near the front of the platform, and the avenues to the Castle were guarded by infantry.

A few minutes before nine o'clock the prisoners came upon the platform. After the ordinary had read the accustomed forms of prayer, George Mellor prayed for about ten minutes, William Thorp also prayed; but his voice was not so well heard. Smith said but little, but seemed to join in the devotions with great seriousness.

The prisoners were then moved to the front of the platform; and, after saying a few words, the executioner proceeded to perform his fatal office, and the drop fell.

On the 8th John Baines the elder, John Baines the younger, Zachary Baines of the same family, the elder near seventy years of age, and the latter scarce sixteen, John Eadon, Charles Milnes, William Blakeborough, and George Duckworth, all of Halifax, were tried for administering an unlawful oath to John Macdonald; and all, except the boy, were found guilty

On the 9th January, James Haigh of Dalton, Jonathan Deane of Huddersfield, John Ogden, James Brook, Thomas Brook, John Walker of Longroyd Bridge, and John Hirst of Liversedge, were tried for attacking the mill of Mr. William Cartwright at Rawfolds. Mr. Cartwright being apprehensive of an attack being made upon his mill, procured the assistance of five soldiers, and retired to rest about twelve o'clock, but soon afterwards heard the barking of a dog. He arose; and while opening the door, heard a breaking of windows, and also a firing in the upper and lower windows, and a violent hammering at the door. He and his men flew to their arms; and a bell placed at the top of the mill, for the purpose of alarming the neighbours, being rung by one of his men, the persons inside the mill discharged their pieces from loop-holes. The fire was returned regularly on both sides. The mob called, "Bang up, lads! in with you! keep close! damn that bell! get to it! damn 'em, kill 'em all!" The numbers assembled were considerable. The attack continued about twenty minutes; but at length the fire slackened from without, and the cries of the wounded were heard. The men that were wounded were taken care of, but afterwards died. One of the accomplices, W. Hall, stated that he was one of those connected with Mellor and Thorp, and assembled with many other persons by the desire of Mellor, in a field belonging to sir George Armitage, Bart., on the night of the 11th of April. They called their numbers, remained there some time, and then marched off to the mill. Mellor commanded the musket company, another the pistol company, and another the hatchet company: they were formed in lines of ten each. Two of the men were to go last and drive up the rear.--Some had hatchets, some hammers, some sticks, and others had no arms.

The jury found James Haigh, J. Deane, J. Ogden, T. Brook, and J. Walker guilty, but acquitted the rest.

Several prisoners were on the two following days convicted of robberies, but many others were, through the lenity of the government, admitted to bail. On the Thursday, on the grand jury coming into court and declaring that they had disposed of all the bills of indictment preferred before them, Mr. Parke, who appeared as counsel for the crown, said that it was not intended to present any more indictments: he and those learned gentlemen who had assisted him had examined the various cases, which might have formed the subjects of prosecution; but in that discretion, with which they had been intrusted, they had determined to exercise a lenity, which he hoped would produce its proper effect with the prisoners and their associates.

The grand jury then retired, and sentence of death was passed upon fifteen prisoners by Mr. Baron Thompson.

On Saturday at eleven o'clock, John Hill, Joseph Crowther, Nathaniel Hayle, Jonathan Deane, John Ogden, Thomas Brook, and John Walker, were brought out on the scaffold to undergo the last sentence of the law. They appeared to be fully sensible of the awful situation in which they were placed; and having hung till twelve o'clock, they were cut down, in order to make way for those prisoners who were to be executed subsequently on the same day.

In about an hour and a half after they had been removed, John Swallow, John Batley, Joseph Fisher, William Hartley, James Haigh, James Hey, and Job Hay, were also executed. The crowd of persons assembled was immense.

HUFFEY WHITE AND RICHARD KENDALL.

EXECUTED FOR ROBBING THE LEEDS MAIL.

Huffey White was a more expert and notorious housebreaker, and perpetrated more adroit burglaries and robberies, than any other malefactor of his time. His first conviction appears to have taken place in the year 1809, when he was found guilty of a burglary, and sentenced to be transported for life. Preparatory to his being sent abroad, he was conveyed on board the hulks at Woolwich; but disliking the treatment he experienced there, he contrived to make his escape, and once more visited the scenes of his former crimes in London. At this time he became acquainted with the notorious Jem Mackcoull; and as a means of replenishing his exchequer, he agreed to accompany him to Chester, for the purpose of robbing the bank there.

White, it appears, lodged in the house of a blacksmith, named Scottock, in London, who supplied him with the necessary implements; and the two villains having directed the smith to forward them the keys, &c. to Chester, set off for that place early in 1810; and having made their observations, called at the coach-office for the box of implements. Unfortunately for their project, the friction of the coach had broken one corner of the box, through which a skeleton key suspiciously obtruded; and an officer having been made acquainted with the fact, he was concealed when White and Mackcoull came to demand the box, and having secured them both, they were committed to the house of correction as rogues and vagabonds.

Mackcoull went by the name of Martin, and White assumed that of Evans; but a description of their persons being transmitted to Bow-street, an officer was sent, who quickly recognised them both; and White was brought to trial at the next assizes, and received sentence of death for being at large before the expiration of his period of transportation; but this sentence was afterwards commuted to transportation for life, and he was once more sent to his former station in the hulks, Mackcoull remaining in Chester jail, in which he was sentenced to be confined for six months.

At the expiration of the term of his imprisonment, Mackcoull returned to London, and agreeing with one French to rob the Glasgow bank, they wished for the assistance of Huffey White, and actually contrived to liberate him from the hulks, before they set off for Scotland.

On their reaching the scene of their intended depredation, they took lodgings in the house of a Mrs. Stewart; and although they appeared to be persons engaged in no particular business, they were nevertheless actively employed in maturing their plans for the burglary. In this way nearly six weeks passed away, the most anxious care being taken that no circumstance should occur which could excite suspicion. The exact position of the banking-house, and of all the apartments in which money was kept, was ascertained and accurately noted down; and that no chance of success should be lost, the thieves actually made themselves acquainted with the persons who had charge of the banking-house, through whose innocent instrumentality they procured much of the information which they required. Their implements having reached them, however, from London, they found that none of them were calculated for the purpose which they had in view, and White, who had assumed the name of Down, was despatched to the metropolis with the necessary instructions to procure fit instruments. On his return he was amply provided; and at length, on Sunday evening, when the honest bank-keepers were gone to church, the burglary was effected, and 20,000_l._, in Scotch bank-notes, were carried off. The party judged rightly, that Glasgow was no place for them to remain in any longer, and they immediately set off in a post-chaise for London, changing a 20_l._ note at every stage. From the able manner in which the robbery had been effected, and from all the doors and cupboards being found locked as they had been left, it was not discovered, nor indeed suspected, until the following day, when pursuit, with a chance of catching the thieves, was of course hopeless; but information being conveyed to London, the fugitives were traced to have proceeded thither, and White was apprehended in the house of his old ally, Scottock, with a number of housebreaking implements in his possession. All search for money proved of no avail however, the notes having been duly lodged in the hands of an experienced "banker;" and the exertions of the officers to apprehend the other offender were equally futile. In accordance with a system then existing to a very great extent, but now, happily, put an end to, negotiations were commenced by the thieves with the banking company for the restoration of the notes upon certain terms, one of which was, that no prosecution should take place; and Sayer, the officer, being employed, matters were at length satisfactorily adjusted; but upon the notes being restored, it was found, that instead of the sum stolen, 11,041_l._ only were given up, and the gulled agent returned to Scotland, compelled to put up with what he could get.

In the mean time, however, White was conveyed back to the hulks to serve out the remainder of his sentence, but he soon contrived again to escape; but he now confined his depredations to the country, where he committed various burglaries. While at large, he contrived, by skeleton keys, &c., to open the doors of the Kettering bank; and such was the masterly manner in which he effected his entrance, and conducted the business, that the bankers, Messrs. Keep and Gotch, remained ignorant of the attempted robbery, until an accomplice subsequently detailed the transaction. It was conceived to be impossible for such a thing to take place without, at least, exciting suspicion; and the information was treated as untrue, until the number of the page in which the London banking account was kept was told, which it was known could only have been learned by an inspection of the private ledger. It appears, however, that in this instance "ignorance was bliss;" for although the thieves had carried off nothing, because the state of the exchequer did not present a sufficient temptation, they had fully made up their minds to pay the house a second visit, in the hope of making a more successful "haul." But from this they were prevented by the apprehension of White, who was the prime mover of these proceedings, and his execution on a charge of robbing the Leeds mail at Higham Ferrers, in Northamptonshire, on the 29th of October, 1812.

The circumstances of this case are as follow:--The guard having gone to the coach-box on the night in question from his accustomed seat at the back of the mail, the robbers contrived during his absence, and without exciting his suspicion, to open the lock, and carry off the mail-bags. Information of the robbery having been conveyed to London, Richard and John Limbrick, two Bow-street officers, were despatched in search of the thieves; and hearing that White was at Bristol, they proceeded thither, having little doubt that he was one of the parties concerned. On their arrival they found that he was living with two fellows named Ned Burkitt and John Goodman, both well-known thieves; and it was determined to watch them, in order that a favourable opportunity might be seized to secure their persons. Several days passed before they were able to attempt the capture of their prey; but at length, Goodman and his wife having been taken into custody upon a charge of robbing the Canterbury bank, of which they were suspected, a favourable opportunity presented itself. The officers in consequence went boldly to the house occupied by the thieves, and having given a loud knock at the door, they were answered by Burkitt. They immediately rushed in, but were met with a most violent opposition, in the course of which White managed to make his escape over a shed at the back.

His career was, however, drawing to a close, and information having reached the officers that Liverpool was to be favoured by his presence, they were soon on the look out for him in that city. Early in the month of April 1813, he was found to have entered Liverpool, and inquiries being made, he was traced to the house of an old woman named Mary Howes, alias Taylor, in the Scotland Road there. The Limbricks in consequence proceeded thither, when their entrance was opposed by the old woman; but some force being applied, the door was opened, and they proceeded directly to the cellar. They there found White and a man named Haywood, evidently prepared to make a desperate resistance, but the officers being equally resolute, after a violent conflict, in the course of which a pistol was fired by one of the constables, the thieves were secured. Upon the house being searched a great variety of house-breaking implements was found, concealed under a flag in the cellar, and Mrs. Howes was also taken into custody.

At the ensuing summer assizes at Northampton, White, Kendall, and the woman Mary Howes, were indicted for the robbery of the Leeds mail; and it was proved that on the evening on which the robbery was effected, the two first-named prisoners were seen on the road in a gig near Higham Ferrers, and subsequently on the same night at the house of Mrs. Howes, who then lived very near. It was also shown that no other gig but that in which the prisoners rode passed through the turnpike on that evening, and the prisoners were afterwards seen together, and were traced to London, where White offered to negotiate some of the bills and notes, the produce of the robbery, with one Richardson, who had been before this time convicted of robbing the house of the Marchioness of Downshire.

Forty witnesses were examined on this trial, which lasted fourteen hours; and such was the interest produced, that the court was crowded to excess. The judge having charged the jury, they retired, and soon afterwards returned, finding White and Kendall guilty, but they acquitted the woman, in accordance with the direction of the Court; it appearing that her offence did not take place in the county in which she was arraigned.

The night preceding the execution of these convicts, White attempted to make his escape, and had succeeded so far as to cut off his irons, and break through several doors; but he was stopped at the outward gate, and reconducted to his cell. At nine o'clock, August the 13th, 1813, the procession approached the place of execution at Northampton. Kendall appeared deeply impressed with a sense of the awful fate that awaited him; but uniformly persisted in declaring his innocence, and said that he fell a victim in consequence of his having had the misfortune to be in company with his fellow-sufferer on the night of the robbery. He declared, on the gallows, that he was a murdered man, and appealed to the populace, in a speech of some length, in which he endeavoured to convince them of his perfect innocence.

White's deportment was such as to exhibit his extreme carelessness of life. Hardihood never forsook him, and he more than once found fault with the manner in which the chaplain performed his duty. From the time of his conviction he disregarded the gallows; and, being humanely asked by a clergyman if he could administer any sort of comfort to him, answered, "Only by getting some other man to be hanged for me." He declared Kendall innocent a few minutes before they were launched into eternity.

PHILIP NICHOLSON

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

The case of this unfortunate wretch is one of a peculiarly distressing character, presenting a crime of a most fearful nature, committed without the most remote cause of provocation, and apparently also without motive.

It appears that the malefactor was a footman in the employment of Mr. and Mrs. Bonar, an aged and respectable couple, who resided at a mansion called Camden Place, situated in the village of Chiselhurst, in Kent. The establishment consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Bonar, two female domestics, who slept in an apartment at the rear of the house, a groom and coachman, who slept in a room over the stable, and the wretched man Nicholson, who had his bed in the hall, and who was the only man-servant who slept in the house.

On the night of Sunday, the 30th of May, 1813, Mr. Bonar retired to rest, at his usual hour, twelve o'clock, and his lady followed at about two o'clock, having been undressed in the ante-room to the bed-room by her maid.

During the night no noise or disturbance of any kind was heard by the servants, and at half-past six o'clock in the morning one of the garden labourers called up Nicholson and remarked to him that the hall door and window-shutters were open, a circumstance of which he declared he was unaware. At seven o'clock the servant-women got up, and one of them on going into the ante-room of her mistress's bed-room observed foot-marks of blood plainly visible on the floor. In great agitation she communicated what she had seen to her fellow-servants, and on their all going up to ascertain the truth of what they had been told, they became alarmed lest murder had been committed, and determined to ascertain the truth of their surmises. Upon their entering Mr. Bonar's apartment, they found their master and mistress lying dead, the former on the floor, literally swimming with blood, while the latter lay on the bed, in a similar condition. A kitchen poker, the instrument with which the murders had evidently been committed, lay on the floor, and the state of the room exhibited the utmost confusion. Nicholson was amongst those who entered the room, and he was observed to be much agitated, and to be very active in moving the bed-clothes, by which, if by no other means, his own attire became stained with blood. One of the servant-women having swooned, he roused her, and told her to attend to her mistress, who still breathed, and upon examination this proved to be the case, and he directly insisted that he should go to town for a surgeon.

On the road he was seen to drink copiously of brandy, and a little after eight o'clock he arrived at the house of Mr. Astley Cooper, who instantly set off for Camden Place, in the hope of affording surgical assistance to the murdered lady. Nicholson went next to the Red Lion, near Bedlam, where he saw a man named Dale, who had been only a few weeks discharged for improper conduct from Mr. Bonar's service; and to whom he used this remarkable expression: "The deed is done, and you are suspected; but you are not in it." He then proceeded to the office at Bow-street, in a state of intoxication, to give information of the murder, and having mentioned his interview with Dale, that person was brought to the office; but he established a most satisfactory alibi, and was discharged. Three officers immediately set off for Chiselhurst, and Mr. Cooper arrived with all possible despatch at Camden Place, but was too late; the wound was mortal, and Mrs. Bonar expired at eleven minutes past one o'clock, having been through the whole previous time insensible, and having only once uttered the exclamation of "Oh dear!"

"We never witnessed," says one who saw it, "such a scene of horror as the bed-room presented. Almost the first object which met the eye on entering was the dead body of Mr. Bonar, with the head and hands steeped in blood: the skull was literally broken into fragments in two or three places; and there was a dreadful laceration across the nose, as if effected by the edge of a poker. His hands were mangled in several places, apparently by the same instrument: there was also a severe wound on the right knee. From the numerous wounds on the body of Mr. Bonar, the swollen state of his mouth, and the convulsive contraction of his hands and knees, it is clear that he had struggled with all his force against his horrid murderer. The most shocking circumstance connected with this spectacle was the appearance of the night-cap, which lay a few paces from the head, drenched in blood, with a lock of grey hair sticking to it, which seemed to have been struck from the skull by the violence of the blow of the poker. The pillows of his bed lay at his feet, completely dyed in blood. The manly athletic person of Mr. Bonar--for, though advanced in life, he seems to have been a powerful man--gave an increase of horror to this afflicting sight. The view of Mrs. Bonar, though equally distressing, excited more pity than terror: though her head had been fractured in a dreadful manner, yet there was a calm softness in her countenance, more resembling a healthy sleep than a violent death; it might have been supposed that her life had parted from her without one painful effort. The linen and pillow of the bed in which she lay were covered with blood, as was also the bed of Mr. Bonar. They slept in small separate beds, but placed so close together that there was scarce room for a person to pass between them. The interval of floor between the beds was almost a stream of blood. No slight additional horror arose from the contrast of the spacious handsome apartment in which this scene of death was exhibited. The most heart-moving spectacle yet remained. About seven o'clock in the evening, Mr. Bonar, jun., arrived from Faversham, where he was on duty as Colonel of the Kent local militia. In spite of the efforts of Mr. Angerstein, jun., and some other gentlemen, he rushed up stairs exclaiming, 'Let me see my father! indeed I must see him.' It was impossible to detain him: he burst into the bed-chamber, and immediately locked the door after him. Apprehensions were entertained for his safety, and the door was broken open, when he was seen kneeling with clasped hands over the body of his father. His friends bore him away, and hurried him, tottering and fainting, into an adjoining chamber."

The officers proceeded, immediately on their arrival, to investigate all the circumstances attending this horrid deed, and an examination of the house clearly exhibited the fact that no stranger had been guilty of the murder. They were at a loss to know on whom to fix their suspicions; when the discovery of a pair of shoes belonging to Nicholson, marked with blood, and which corresponded with the bloody footprints in the ante room, tended to produce a belief that he was the guilty man. He had not returned to his master's house since he had first quitted it in search of surgical aid; and Forrester, one of the City officers, was in consequence despatched in quest of him. After a lengthy and diligent inquiry, he was traced to Whitechapel, and he was there found drinking at the door of the Three Nuns Inn. He was immediately seized, and in spite of great resistance was conveyed in custody to Giltspur-street Compter; but he persisted in denying all knowledge of the murder. On the Tuesday he was sent down to Chiselhurst, where the coroner's inquest sat on the bodies of the unhappy deceased lady and gentleman, and the evidence being gone through before the coroner, Mr. Martyr, he was reading over the depositions of the several witnesses for their assent and signature, when an alarm was given that Nicholson had attempted his own life. He had been in custody of two officers, and requested leave to go into the yard, which was refused; but he was permitted to enter a water-closet in the passage leading to the servants' hall; while there he cut his throat with a razor, which, it appeared, he had concealed in the front of his breeches. The gash was so deep, and it bled so profusely, that it was supposed he could not live many minutes. The head seemed almost severed from his body. Two surgeons from Bromley being fortunately present, they took the necessary steps to prevent his death, and after a short time he was sufficiently recovered to speak; but he persisted in declaring his innocence.

In the course of the evening, the coroner's jury returned a verdict of "Wilful Murder against Philip Nicholson," and he was committed to the custody of proper officers. He was subsequently visited by many persons of distinction, whose attention was attracted by the horrible and atrocious nature of the murder; and on Monday the 7th June, in consequence of the annoyance and pain to which he was subjected, his wound began bleeding afresh. In a few minutes the hæmorrhage increased to a most alarming extent, and fears being entertained for his life, Mr. Astley Cooper was sent for. The wretched prisoner became alarmed, believing that he was at the point of death; and he, in consequence, sent for Mr. Bonar, junior, to whom he made an ample confession of his guilt, but assigned no reason for the commission of the diabolical act. In consequence of the statement he made the garden was searched, and concealed in a laurel bush was found his body linen deeply stained with blood, the neck and front of his shirt being much torn, in consequence, evidently, of the resistance made by the victims to his attack.

The wretched prisoner subsequently conducted himself more calmly than he had hitherto done; he declared his repentance for the attempt which he had committed upon his life, and, as much apprehension was entertained of his death, everything that could disturb him was studiously kept out of his way.

In consequence of the great care which was paid to him, he was at length pronounced out of danger, and was then committed to the house of correction, Coldbath-fields, where he remained until the 17th of August, on which day he was conveyed to Maidstone jail for trial.

On the 20th of the same month he was arraigned upon the indictment preferred against him, to which he pleaded not guilty. The case was fully made out against him; and the prisoner declared that he had only traversed the allegations in the indictment because he had been advised to do so by his friends. The jury therefore found him guilty, and he was immediately sentenced to death by Mr. Justice Heath in the usual form.

Immediately after the sentence, the prisoner put in a paper, and desired it to be read. The judge said that this was irregular, but looked at the paper, and told the jury that it contained a confession of crime, which was imputed to excessive drinking.

The paper which he put in and desired to be read was as follows:--

"I acknowledge with the deepest contrition the justice of the sentence unto death which has been just passed upon me. My crimes are, indeed, most heavy; I feel their weight, but I do not despair; nay, I humbly hope for mercy, through the infinite mercy of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, who bled and died for me. In order to have a well-grounded hope in him, my all-merciful Redeemer, I know that it is my bounden duty not only to grieve from my heart for my dire offences, but also to do my utmost to make satisfaction for them. Yet, alas! what satisfaction can I make to the afflicted family of my master and mistress, whom without any provocation I so barbarously murdered? I can make none beyond the declaration of my guilt and horror of soul that I could perpetrate deeds so shocking to human nature, and so agonising to the feelings of that worthy family. I implore their forgiveness, for God's sake; and fully sensible of their great goodness, I do hope that, for His sake, they will forgive me. I freely give up my life as a just forfeit to my country, whose laws I have scandalously outraged. Departing this tribunal, I shall soon appear before another tribunal, where an eternal sentence will be passed upon me. With this dread sentence full in my view, I do most solemnly declare, and I desire this declaration to be taken as my dying words, that I alone was the base and cruel murderer of my master and mistress; that I had no accomplice; that no one knew or possibly could suspect that I intended to perpetrate those barbarities; that I myself had no intention of committing those horrid deeds, save for a short time, so short as scarcely to be computed, before I actually committed them; that booty was not the motive of my fatal cruelties; I am sure the idea of plunder never presented itself to my mind: I can attribute those unnatural murders to no other cause than, at the time of their commission, a temporary fury from excessive drinking; and before that time to the habitual forgetfulness, for many years, of the great God and his judgments, and the too natural consequence of such forgetfulness, the habitual yielding to the worst passions of corrupted nature; so that the evil that I was tempted to do, that I did: the Lord in his mercy has, nevertheless, spared until now my life--that life which I, in an agony of horror and despair, once most wickedly attempted to destroy: He has most graciously allowed me time for repentance; an humble and contrite heart must be His gift; that gift I hope He has granted to my most ardent supplications: in that hope, and bearing in mind His promise that an humble and contrite heart He will not despise, I, freely offering up to Him my sufferings, and my life itself, look forward, through his most precious blood, to the pardon of all my crimes, my manifold and most enormous crimes, and most humbly trust that the same mercy which He showed to the penitent thief who was crucified with him He will show to me: thus meekly confiding in thee, O Jesus! into thy hands I commend my spirit. Amen.

"PHILIP NICHOLSON.

"This 20th August, 1813."

The signature was in Nicholson's own hand-writing: the rest appeared written by another hand.

After sentence of death was passed, the wretched culprit was placed in the condemned cell, which in the Maidstone jail is underground. In this cell Mr. Bonar had an interview with him, at half-past five on Monday morning, 22nd August, the day fixed for his execution. On his approaching the cell, he found Nicholson on his knees at prayer.

At about twelve o'clock, the preparations for the removal of the prisoner being nearly completed, Mr. Bonar, accompanied by his brother, and Mr. Bramston, the Catholic clergyman, had another interview with the unfortunate man, soon after which, the hurdle or sledge, which was in the shape of a shallow box, about six feet by three, was drawn up to the jail door; at each end was a seat just capable of holding two persons. Nicholson, double ironed, was first placed in it, with his back to the horses; he was also pinioned with ropes, and round his shoulders was coiled the fatal cord; by his side sat the executioner; opposite to the prisoner the Rev. Mr. Bramston took his seat, and by his side sat one of the Maidstone jailors with a loaded blunderbuss. Everything being in readiness, the procession advanced at a very slow pace towards Pennenden Heath, which is distant from Maidstone nearly a mile and a half, on which was erected a temporary drop, which had a platform raised seven feet from the ground, and was large enough to contain about a dozen persons. A little before two o'clock the hurdle arrived, and stopped immediately under the gallows, when Mr. Bramston and Nicholson knelt down on it, and remained for a while in prayer. Some time previous to this, Mr. Bonar arrived on the ground in a post-chaise, and took his stand within twelve yards of the fatal spot, with the front windows full on the gallows, which he kept open during the whole time; but each of the side windows was closed by blinds. So anxious was Mr. Bonar to get from the unfortunate wretch his very dying words, as to whether he had either motive or accomplice, that a person was deputed to ascend the platform after the cord was round the prisoner's neck, and to ask him questions upon the subject of the murder. The wretched being repeatedly declared that he had no accomplice in the diabolical deed; and in answer to the last question put to him,--"Had you any antipathy to either your master or mistress before you committed the horrid murder?"--clasping his hands together as well as his close bonds would permit him, he answered, "As God is in heaven it was a momentary thought, as I have repeatedly declared before."

The above were the last words of this unhappy man; and in a few minutes after they were uttered, the bottom of the platform was let fall, and Nicholson was launched into eternity. He died unusually hard, being greatly convulsed. It appeared from the account he gave of himself, that he was a native of Ireland, and had been discharged from the thirteenth dragoons in consequence of a broken wrist. He subsequently lived three years with the city remembrancer, and had been only three weeks in the employ of his late master, Mr. Bonar. Among the servants at Camden Place he was looked upon as a man of harmless disposition and good nature, with no discernible failing but one, drunkenness, to which he was so greatly addicted, that he was seldom sober when he could procure any spirits.

The sensation which the murder produced throughout the country was amazing.

MICHAEL M'ILVENA.

EXECUTED FOR UNLAWFULLY PERFORMING THE MARRIAGE CEREMONY.

This villain was a native of Ireland; and in his migrations through the northern part of that kingdom, personated, successively, the characters of a Catholic priest, a Protestant minister, and a lawyer. The last place we find him in was the village of Ballinahinch, where he went under the appellation of The Counsellor. While here he became acquainted with a man of the name of Christopher Jennings, with whom he conspired to debauch a young girl, named Mary Hair.

This unsuspecting creature was only seventeen years of age, and had been a servant for a year and a half with a Mr. Knox of Drumanockan, near Dromore, and having spent the Christmas of 1812 with her parents, she was on her way back to her place, when she met her acquaintance Jennings on the road. He conducted her to a public-house to treat her, and there, as he had done before, made proposals of marriage to her. The poor girl had before looked upon him with a favouring eye, and she took him at his word, saying, that if he could find a priest, she would marry him at once. They in consequence went together to Ballinahinch, and Jennings took his bride into a public-house where M'Ilvena was sitting, and introduced him to her as the minister, who was to marry them. A little coyness was exhibited, and some mistrust was shown by the girl at her being married in a public-house; but her scruples having been overcome, the marriage was directed to be begun.

M'Ilvena, with assumed sanctity, pulled out his book, and went through what Mary thought were the proper forms, joining their hands, and interrogating the parties in the usual manner. After the ceremony, the poor girl asked for a certificate. This was at first refused; but as she insisted on it, the supposed parson took pen and ink, and wrote the following:--

"These are to certify, that Mary Hair is this day joined in marriage to Christopher Jennings, of Drumara. As given under my hand, this 26th December, 1812.--W. M'I."

This scrawl contented the deluded girl; and the parson then intimated that he was always paid for such duties. Mary gave him ten tenpennies; but he threw them down with an indignant air, exclaiming, "Am I to be college-bred and learned, and not receive my just dues?" But no more money was forthcoming, and the parson was obliged to put up with what he had got, contenting himself with wetting the bargain with a jug of punch. The unfortunate girl was then conducted to the house of an old woman named M'Kee, where her husband was admitted to all the marital rights; and on the next morning she was bid by him to give notice of the event to her master and mistress, and he undertook to break the business to her father and mother. The poor girl was parting from him with reluctance for this purpose, when he told her unblushingly that she was not his wife, and that she was deceived.

The unhappy girl was immediately awakened to all the misery of her situation; and she ran, in a state of distraction, to her parents, to whom she related all that had occurred. The necessary proceedings were immediately taken, and the counsellor and Jennings were committed to prison. At the summer assizes for Downpatrick, August the 17th, 1813, they were brought up for trial. M'Ilvena was first indicted; and Mary Hair having deposed to the foregoing facts, she was cross-examined, with a view to affect her testimony, by endeavouring to make her acknowledge a former connexion with Jennings; a fact, however, which she indignantly denied.

M'Ilvena, in his defence, produced Jennings, who swore, first, that he had an intimate knowledge of the prosecutrix long before the time mentioned in the indictment; next, that she never represented herself as his wife; and that M'Ilvena never pretended to join their hands together, or otherwise unite them in marriage.

Jennings, having given his evidence, was ordered back into the dock from whence he had come, and M'Ilvena was found guilty; after which he was called on, in the usual form, to say why sentence of death should not be passed on him. He appeared quite unmoved, and said he was not guilty of the crime imputed to him. The judge then proceeded to pass sentence on him; which he did in a very impressive manner, though frequently interrupted by exclamations of innocence from the prisoner. The offence being made by a particular act of parliament a capital felony, he was sentenced to be hanged. He asked for a long day, which was humanely granted, and his execution was deferred to the 18th of September, on which day it took place, in the midst of a vast concourse of spectators.

The day after M'Ilvena's trial, Jennings was placed at the bar, on an indictment for conspiring to debauch Mary Hair. He was almost instantly found guilty; when the judge told him his crime was much enhanced by the attempt he had made to screen his accomplice from punishment, in which he had committed wilful and corrupt perjury. The sentence of the court was, that he should stand for an hour on the pillory, be imprisoned for one year, and pay a fine of fifty pounds.

JAMES MITCHELL.

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

The subject of this narrative was a native of Salisbury, and his first occupation was that of a ploughboy in the service of a farmer near his birthplace. Having afterwards removed to London, he obtained a situation as groom in a gentleman's family; and while so employed he became acquainted with Miss Welchman, whose life he subsequently took away.

Miss Welchman was a ladies' dressmaker, and lived as forewoman with Miss Macey, who carried on that business in Mount Street. She was an elegant young woman, about four-and-twenty years of age, and of a most amiable disposition. To her, in an evil hour, Mitchell paid his addresses, under the name of Smith, and represented himself as purser on board some ship. The credulous girl believed him worthy and honourable, and permitted him to visit her, at the house of her employer, where he was, for some time, treated with politeness and friendship. At length his own conduct betrayed the deception he had practised. He obtruded himself at improper hours, and more than once offended the young ladies in the work-room by the coarseness and indelicacy of his conversation. This coming to the knowledge of Miss Welchman's brother, he prevailed, with some difficulty, on his sister to forego the acquaintance of her lover.

In accordance with this advice, Miss Welchman had several interviews on the subject with Mitchell; but notwithstanding her desire that he would not again visit her, he persisted in annoying her. On Friday the 5th of August, 1814, he called at Mount Street, and was ushered into the work-room, where Miss Welchman was sitting. He continued there during the whole evening, notwithstanding the repeated requests made to him that he would leave; and, as it grew late, he desired Miss Welchman to provide supper for him, and subsequently to lend him money. Both requests were refused, and eventually at eleven o'clock Miss Macey and her work-people went away to supper, Mitchell being now left alone. Miss Welchman, however, returned to him, saying that she desired to be alone with him for about five minutes; but she had scarcely entered the room when a loud scream was heard, immediately followed by the report of pistols. Her companions immediately rushed into the apartment, and found Miss Welchman a lifeless corpse on the floor, a pair of pistols lying by her side, which on inspection bore evident marks of being the instruments with which the murder had been perpetrated. The hat of Mitchell was also discovered; but the window was open, and it was found that the assassin had escaped by descending into the street, by that means.

On examination, it was found that Miss Welchman had been shot in the head; one bullet had entered her temple, and the other had been resisted by the substance of the forehead.

The murderer, in the mean time, had succeeded in making his escape, and the officers of justice were despatched in pursuit of him, but without effect; for, as he had been for a length of time out of place, a clue to his last residence was not easily found. At length word was brought to town that he was in custody at his native place, Salisbury, to which he had bent his steps, and where he had been recognised by his old master the farmer, who, having heard of the murder, immediately had him scoured.

On the 13th of August he was brought up to Bow Street, in the custody of Taunton the officer, where he underwent an examination, after which he was fully committed to Newgate. He appeared very little affected at his situation, and preserved a sullen silence.

On Friday, September the 16th, he was arraigned at the Old Bailey for the murder of Miss Welchman. The evidence was circumstantial, but conclusive; and, when called on for his defence, he denied the crime with which he was charged, and said that it was not proved the pistols and hat were his. He called no witnesses, and the jury having been charged, retired for a few minutes, and returned with a verdict of Guilty.

The Recorder, after silence had been proclaimed, pronounced the dreadful sentence of the law, which was heard by the prisoner without the slightest emotion.

He was executed on the 19th September with a man named Hollings, who had been convicted of a similar offence in the murder of his step-daughter, to whom he had formed an attachment, notwithstanding his having married her mother; and whom he murdered in the street, at the door of her master, Mr. Cartwright, in Lower Grosvenor Street, because she had refused to accede to his disgusting and lustful propositions.

So great was the public curiosity to see the unfortunate malefactors, that at seven o'clock on the morning of the execution, the Old Bailey and Giltspur Street were crowded to a degree almost unprecedented. Much money was given for indifferent seats at the top of the houses opposite the Debtors' Door; and carts, waggons, and other vehicles were put in requisition. At a quarter before eight the prisoners were introduced to the Press-yard, for the purpose of having their irons knocked off, accompanied by the Reverend Mr. Cotton and the Reverend Mr. Frere, the latter of whom sat up in constant prayer all the night with Hollings, who joined most fervently in the devotion. Mitchell, who was dressed in black, was first brought out from the cell; he looked pale, and maintained a deportment of sullen resignation; he did not say a word, nor did he betray the slightest symptoms of feeling at his awful situation. The irons being knocked off and the usual ceremony of tying the hands being executed, he lifted his hand as far as he was permitted, and looking up, bowed, and appeared to be in prayer. Hollings stepped forward to the block with great activity. He was, however, very tranquil; and upon being disencumbered of his irons, he addressed the persons around him in nearly the following words: "Here, you see, I stand a victim to passion and barbarity: my crime is great, and I acknowledge the justice of my sentence. But, oh! the unfortunate girl I loved, I adored as one of my own. I have made contrition, and prayed for forgiveness; I resign myself under an impression that Almighty God has heard my prayers, and will forgive me: may you and the world take warning by my example; and here I confess the justice of my fate--receive my soul, O God!" At the last expression his feelings overcame him, and he wept.

The whole of the awful arrangements being complete, the prisoners were ushered to the fatal scaffold. Mitchell was until this time firm and unconcerned; but he now became much agitated, and the horrors of death were strongly portrayed in his countenance. Hollings shook hands with the officers of justice, declared to Mr. Frere that he was quite happy, and mounted the scaffold with great firmness and resignation. The clergymen continued to pray to them until the fatal signal was given, when the drop fell. Mitchell continued in the strongest convulsions for several minutes, and appeared to die very hard.

After they had hung some time, three females were introduced, for the application of the "dead man's hand," supposed to remove marks, wens, &c. The first was a young woman of interesting appearance, who was so much affected by the ceremony that she was obliged to be supported.

At nine the bodies were cut down, and sent to St. Bartholomew's Hospital for dissection.

MAJOR J. G. SEMPLE, alias LISLE.

CONVICTED OF SWINDLING.

The case of this offender has obtained considerable notoriety, from the circumstance of his conviction having been disputed, and from the decision upon it having therefore became a precedent often quoted in our courts of law.

Semple, it appears, was born in Scotland in 1759, of a respectable family; and in the year 1775, at the age of sixteen years, he entered the army, and went to America. In the following year he was taken prisoner of war, but was soon after released, and retired from service with a pension for wounds.

He subsequently entered the army of Frederic the Great of Prussia; but in 1779 he again returned to England, and then married an English lady of great respectability, whom he met at Harwich. During a visit to France a short time afterwards, he became acquainted with the Duchess of Kingston, alias the Countess of Bristol, (whose case we have already given,) whom he accompanied on her visit to Russia, and having there consented to join the Russian service, he was appointed captain in the Imperial Army by Prince Potemkin. During his employment in this capacity, his conduct was such as to gain for him many honours; but in the year 1784, being dissatisfied with his position, he retired to Copenhagen, from whence he eventually returned to England, and there misfortune fell upon him in its worst form.

On the 1st of September 1785, very soon therefore after his arrival in this country, he was indicted for feloniously stealing a post-chaise, value 50_l_., the property of John Lycett, a coachmaker in Whitechapel; and upon the trial, it appeared that he had hired the post-chaise fora limited period, as he alleged to support the character which he was entitled to maintain, but that it was never returned. The defence set up was that the transaction could only be looked upon in the nature of a civil contract, and that the chaise having been regularly ordered and sent home, no charge could be brought against the prisoner except that arising on the sale of the carriage, and that he could only be held to be indebted for its value. Upon argument, however, the court held that there had been a felonious dealing with the carriage, and the prisoner was found guilty and sentenced to be transported for seven years. He was conveyed to Woolwich on his way to a penal settlement, but he was eventually pardoned on condition of his going abroad.

From Woolwich therefore he went to France; and there he became acquainted with Beruyer, Péthion, Roland, and several of the leaders of the day. He was present at the trial of Louis XVI., and shortly after resolved on returning to England, in consequence of the rupture with this country, which he then saw was inevitable. He therefore obtained a passport; he was denounced to the committee of public safety as a spy, who was going to join the enemy; but being secretly apprised of what was going forward, he was able to effect his escape, although with some difficulty, before the order for his arrest was issued.

On his escape he joined the allied army against France, and distinguished himself on various occasions, but particularly in the battle of St. Fronde, which lasted three days; and at the time of the retirement of the King of Prussia from this campaign, he found himself incapacitated from service, and almost destitute of the means of existence. After a short retirement, however, he had recovered sufficiently to remove to Augsburgh; and on his arrival at that place he was suddenly arrested by order of the Baron d'Ompteda, in the name of his Britannic majesty; but his imprisonment not being legal, he was shortly afterwards set at liberty.

Considering he had been ill used on the Continent, Semple again returned to England; and in 1795 we again find him at the bar of the Old Bailey, on a charge of stealing in the shop of Mr. Wattleworth, in Wigmore Street, one yard of muslin, two yards of calico, and one linen shirt.

It was proved that the prisoner came into the shop of Mr. Wattleworth, about noon, on the 10th of November 1794, and, showing two patterns, one of muslin, and the other of calico, said he wanted them matched for Mrs. Coningham, of Egham Green. They could not find an exact match in the shop to the muslin; but he chose one; and a yard being cut off, together with two yards of calico, he said he would give them to the lady's servant, then at the door; and, calling in a man, he gave them to him. He then said that he had just arrived from the Continent, and should want a quantity of shirts, and wished to take one with him to consult his sister, who, he thought, would be a better judge of the linen than he was; that he would bring it back in the morning, and then give his order. He called his sister Mrs. Coningham; and as Mr. Wattleworth had a customer of that name, he made no hesitation, but gave him the shirt under those conditions. This happened in November; but the prosecutor never saw the prisoner again until January, when he was in custody in Bow Street.

The counsel for the prisoner contended that the charge of the felony was not made out, the evidence, if true, amounting only to that of obtaining goods under false pretences. Mr. Justice Buller, who tried the cause, admitted the counsel was perfectly right as to the calico and muslin; but he did not agree with him in respect to the shirt, and therefore left that question to the jury.

The prisoner, in his defence, entered into a history of his past life with a view of showing, that although he had been before convicted, his general course of conduct was not that of living by fraud; but the jury found him guilty of stealing the shirt, and he was once more sentenced to seven years' transportation.

Notwithstanding his notoriety, (for there were many other charges against him,) many persons, amongst whom were Burke and Boswell, interested themselves in his behalf; but after remaining about two years in Newgate in a state of uncertainty as to his future destiny, he was at length removed to Portsmouth, and from thence proceeded to New South Wales. On the passage a mutiny broke out on board the transport in which he sailed; and Semple being one of the ringleaders, he, with twenty-eight others, was sent adrift in an open boat. He had contrived to conceal a quantity of gold in some soap, and succeeded in carrying it off with him; and after a dangerous passage, he and his companions landed in safety at Fort St. Pedro, in the province of Rio Grande. They were received with great hospitality by the governor of the Fort; and Semple was introduced by his fellows as a Dutch officer and passenger, a tale of shipwreck being trumped up; but a quarrel arising among them, their real character was subsequently exposed. After remaining during a considerable time at Brazils, in the year 1798 he went to Lisbon; but there he was arrested by an order of the British minister, and sent to Gibraltar, and while there, being suspected of being a party to a conspiracy which was discovered, he was again arrested and sent to Tangier.

In December 1798, a despatch arrived from England, ordering him home in custody; and he was accordingly sent on board a ship, and arrived at Portsmouth the following April. He was immediately conveyed to Tothill-fields Bridewell, where he remained till he was again sent out of the country.

From this period nothing particular occurred in the major's life until his return from Botany Bay in 1810, when he resorted to his former evil practices; but as he became more notorious he became less successful, until at length he was reduced to the utmost distress, and had recourse to the basest means of supporting a miserable existence.

In 1814 he went into a cheesemonger's shop in Devonshire Street, Queen Square, and ordered a small quantity of bacon and butter to be sent to No. 42, Cross Street. He met the messenger at the door, and taking the articles from him, sent him back for six-pennyworth of eggs. When the boy returned, he knocked at the door, and was informed that the person he inquired for did not live there, and that they knew nothing about him. This was true, for the major had only made a feint of going in to deceive the boy, and had made off when the lad was out of sight.

For this offence he was apprehended, and brought to trial at the Middlesex Sessions, December the 3rd, 1814, and found guilty, when, for the third time, sentence of transportation for seven years was passed on him.

WILLIAM SAWYER.

EXECUTED FOR A MURDER IN PORTUGAL.

The circumstances of this very singular case may be shortly stated as follows:--The prisoner was engaged in the commissariat department of the British army; and in the month of February 1814, he went out to Portugal, where he lived in the same house in the Campo Mayor, at Lisbon, with a friend, Mr. Riccord, who had a female, named Harriet Gaskett, under his protection. An attachment grew up between this unfortunate woman and Sawyer, who, however, had a wife at the time in England; and his attentions were so apparent, that they excited the jealousy of his brother officer, and he appears to have remonstrated with his friend and mistress, which occasioned much infelicity.

On the 27th of April they met at dinner, with two or three other officers; but such was the agitation of their feelings, that Riccord, Harriet, and Sawyer ate nothing. The latter appeared greatly dejected, and, as well as Harriet, withdrew as soon as possible.

In the evening the party heard the report of three pistol-shots; and, on going into the garden, Harriet and Sawyer were found both lying on the ground. Harriet was quite dead, but Sawyer had not been mortally wounded. On his being removed into the house, he was left in the care of a brother officer, while the others went in search of a physician; and during their absence he contrived to get a razor, with which he cut his throat in a dreadful manner, but not mortally.

Next day the officers met, and reduced the facts to writing; and the prisoner signed the document, as well as a paper in the following terms:

"Having laid violent hands upon myself, in consequence of the death of Harriet, I think it but justice to mankind and the world, being of sound mind, solemnly to attest that her death was occasioned by her having taken part of a phial of laudanum, and 'my' discharging a pistol at her head, provided for the occasion. I took the residue of the laudanum myself, and discharged two pistols at my head. They failing in their effect, I then retired to the house and endeavoured to put an end to my life, leaving myself the unfortunate object you now behold me.

(Signed) "WILLIAM SAWYER." And three witnesses.

The word "my," in the above paper, was interlined.

The prisoner also signed a declaration, that Harriet Gaskett had consented to leave Mr. Riccord and live with him, and that Mr. Riccord had told her, on her threatening to quit him, that she might go to the prisoner's hotel. The reason assigned by him for the attempted suicide and murder was, that Harriet declared that she thought that Mr. Riccord would shoot himself if she quitted him, and that she therefore would not live; and he added, that he had shot her at her own request, and not in consequence of any quarrel with her, and had then attempted to kill himself.

When the prisoner was sufficiently recovered, he was removed to England, where, shortly after his arrival, he was indicted at the Old Bailey, April the 7th, 1815, for the above murder. His case excited great interest, and the court was filled long before the arrival of the judges.

The facts already stated having been proved, the prisoner was called on for his defence. He put in a written paper, in which he stated that, in consequence of his being unable to articulate, from the wound in his throat, he had committed to paper all he had to say in his defence. The paper then went on to state that the prisoner had felt the sincerest affection for the unfortunate individual in question, towards whom he had never meditated the slightest injury. He perfectly recollected her having entreated him to shoot her, but had no idea of what passed subsequently, till some time afterwards, when he was told he had signed papers, of the contents of which he had no recollection. He then expressed acknowledgments for the efforts made by his prosecutors to bring forward Mr. Riccord, who would have been a material witness in his behalf; and had only to lament that these efforts had not been attended with success.

Several persons were called to speak to the general humane character of the prisoner, among whom were General Sir Edward Howard and Colonel Sir William Robe.

A Mrs. Nicholls proved that the deceased had lodged with her from June 1813, to February 1814. She was of a most violent and tyrannical disposition, and had a pistol, which she kept constantly in her room.

Lord Ellenborough having summed up the case, the jury found the prisoner guilty, but recommended him to mercy.

Mr. Alley and Mr. Curwood on behalf of the prisoner then moved in arrest of judgment, upon two technical points which arose upon the face of the indictment, and judgment was respited until the 12th of May. The court on that day, however, gave their opinion that the grounds of motion were unavailable, and sentence of death was immediately passed.

The prisoner appeared deeply affected throughout the proceedings, and upon the awful decision and sentence, remained motionless for some time, when at length he faintly requested one of the officers to entreat the court to recommend him to the royal clemency.

Monday, May the 22d, 1815, being the day appointed for the execution of this infatuated man, at an early hour an immense number of spectators had assembled in the Old Bailey to witness the awful scene. After the sentence of death was passed on him, he assumed a degree of sullenness; and the only declaration he was heard to make was, "that he would not be executed:" and this being considered to import that he was resolved on self-destruction, his intentions, if such they were, were defeated by the constant attendance of two officers night and day. On Sunday he received the sacrament, after which he appeared more composed. About three o'clock his wife went to the prison for the purpose of taking a farewell: she was announced by an officer; but the unhappy man gave a peremptory order that she should not be admitted, and all that could be urged could not induce him to see her. When he went to his cell, he was much depressed, and refused any kind of sustenance; and at about two o'clock he lay down, and soon after became very sick, and vomited copiously. He continued restless until half-past six o'clock, at which time he was visited by the Rev. Mr. Cotton, who prayed to him fervently. A little before eight o'clock Mr. Sheriff Reay, attended by the usual officers, proceeded from Justice Hall towards the cell. The unfortunate gentleman was introduced into the Press-yard by the ordinary: he was very dejected, and did not utter a word during the time of his being conveyed to the platform. At eight o'clock precisely, every necessary arrangement being complete, the fatal signal was given, and the unhappy man was launched into eternity. During the ceremony a profound silence prevailed throughout the populace. He died under evident symptoms of paroxysm, and a quantity of blood gushed from his mouth from the cut in his throat. At nine o'clock the body was taken to Bartholemew's Hospital in a cart, attended by the under-sheriff and officers. He was dressed in a suit of black, and was not ironed.

ELIZABETH FENNING.

EXECUTED FOR ATTEMPTING TO POISON A FAMILY.

The extraordinary interest taken by the public in this case at the time of its occurrence induces us to give it at considerable length, in order that its weight and bearings may be justly appreciated and considered. The propriety of the conviction of the unfortunate young woman was much questioned; and upon a careful perusal of its circumstances we think that at the least it must be concluded that the case was attended with considerable doubt.

It appears that Elizabeth Fenning was born in the island of Dominica, in the West Indies, on the 10th of June, 1793. Her father, William Fenning, was a native of Suffolk, and belonged to the first battalion of the 15th regiment of infantry. Her mother was a native of Cork, in Ireland: her parents were respectable, and she was married to Fenning in 1787, in her native town, where the regiment had been quartered. In 1790 they sailed from the Cove of Cork for the island of Barbadoes, and from thence to Dominica.

In 1796 or 1797 the regiment came home, having suffered great mortality, and were quartered in Dublin. In 1802 Fenning solicited and obtained his discharge, with a certificate of his good character, which it appears he merited, as he rose to the rank of a non-commissioned officer; and he then came to London, and entered the service of his brother, a potato-dealer in Red Lion-street, Holborn, with whom he continued for three years, and afterwards lived as servant in a potato-warehouse in Red Lion Passage, where his correct conduct gave satisfaction to three successive proprietors. His wife, for five years, worked for one upholsterer--a sufficient proof of her good conduct. They had ten children, all of whom, except the subject of this narrative, died young. At the age of fourteen, she was placed out in service to obtain her own living; and at the latter end of January, 1815, she was hired as cook in the family of a Mr. Orlibar Turner, at No. 68, Chancery-lane, where she had not been above seven weeks when circumstances unhappily arose which led to the poor creature's being charged with an attempt to poison her master's family.

The facts of the case will be best explained by the following report of the trial.

Eliza Fenning was indicted at the Old Bailey, April the 11th, 1815, for that she, on the 21st of March, feloniously and unlawfully did administer to, and cause to be administered to, Orlibar Turner, Robert Gregson Turner, and Charlotte Turner, his wife, certain deadly poison, (to wit, arsenic,) with intent the said persons to kill and murder.

The case was stated by Mr. Gurney; after which--

Mrs. Charlotte Turner deposed--I am the wife of Mr. Robert Gregson Turner, who is a law-stationer in Chancery-lane, in partnership with his father, Mr. Orlibar Turner, who lives at Lambeth. About seven weeks before the accident, the prisoner came into my service as cook; and about three weeks after, I had occasion to reprove her, for I observed her, one night, go into the young men's room partly undressed. There were two young men, about seventeen or eighteen years old. I reproved her severely next morning for her conduct; and the excuse was, that she went in to fetch the candle. I threatened to discharge her, but on her expressing sorrow for the offence, I forgave her, and she remained in my employment. During the subsequent month, I observed that she failed to pay me that respect which I considered due to me, and she appeared extremely sullen. About a fortnight before the transaction now charged against her, she requested me to permit her to make some yeast dumplings, saying that she was a capital hand at it; and she frequently subsequently repeated the same request. On Monday the 20th of March, she came to me in the dining-room, and again asked me to allow her to make some dumplings, and said that the brewer had brought some yeast; and I said that as that was the case she might make the dumplings the next day, although that was not the way in which I usually had them made, as I generally had the dough from the baker's. On Tuesday morning I went into the kitchen according to my custom, and I bade the prisoner make a beef-steak pie for the young men before she made the dumplings, and she carried the pie to the baker's before kneading the dough. I gave her some directions as to the manner in which I liked the dumplings, and then went away. In about half-an-hour, however, I returned into the kitchen, and I then found the dough placed before the fire to rise. I have another servant in my employment named Sarah Peer, but I am certain that she could not have entered the kitchen during the time occupied in the preparation of the dumplings, as she was engaged by my direction in a bedroom mending a counterpane. I was subsequently in and out of the kitchen two or three times, and I observed that the dough did not rise. It was in a singular shape; and it remained heavy all the time. At about three o'clock we sat down to dinner, and there were six dumplings brought to table. I observed to Sarah Peer that they were black and heavy instead of their being white and light. My husband, Robert Gregson Turner, and his father, Orlibar Turner, sat down to dinner with me: I helped them to some dumplings, and took a small piece myself. I found myself affected in a few minutes after I had eaten it. I did not eat a quarter of a dumpling. I felt myself very faint--an excruciating pain, which increased every minute: it came so bad that I was obliged to leave the table--I went up stairs. I ate, beside the dumpling, a piece of rump-steak cooked by Eliza. When I was up stairs I perceived my sickness increased, and I observed my head was swollen extremely. I retched very violently: I was half an hour alone, and wondered they did not come to my assistance. I found my husband and father very ill--both of them. I was very ill from half-past-three until about nine; the violence then abated, but did not cease. My head and my tongue and chest were swollen. We called in a gentleman who was near, and afterwards Mr. Marshall, the surgeon. We applied for the nearest assistance we could get.

Cross-examined by Mr. Alley.--This happened about six weeks after the girl came to live with me. I have heard the prisoner herself was taken very ill.

Orlibar Turner deposed--I am the father of Robert Gregson Turner. On Tuesday, the 21st day of March, I was at my son's house in Chancery-lane: I dined there. The dinner consisted of yeast dumplings, beef-steaks, and potatoes. After some time Mrs. Turner left the room indisposed. At the time she left the room I did not know she was ill. Sometime after my son left the room, and went down stairs. I followed him very shortly. I met my son in the passage at the foot of the stairs: he told me that he had been very sick, and had brought up his dinner. I found his eyes exceedingly swollen. I said I thought it very extraordinary, and I was taken ill myself in less than three minutes afterwards. The effect was so violent, I had hardly time to go into the back yard before my dinner came up. I felt considerable heat across my stomach and chest, and pain: I never experienced any vomiting before like it, for violence; it was terrible indeed. It was not more than a quarter of an hour when my apprentice, Roger Gadsden, was very ill, in a similar way to myself. While we were sick I was repeatedly in the parlour and the back yard. My son was up and down stairs at intervals; Gadsden, I believe, was in the kitchen below. The prisoner gave no assistance. We were all alarmed: but it was discovered that she did not appear concerned at our situation. I did not observe the prisoner eat any of the dumplings. I had a suspicion of arsenic, and made a search the next morning. I then observed in the pan, in which the dumplings had been mixed, that there was a white powder, unlike flour, and I retained it in my possession until I gave it into the hands of Mr. Marshall. Arsenic had been kept in the drawer in the office, tied up in a paper very tightly, and labelled "Arsenic, poison," in large characters. I saw the parcel there on the 7th of March, but not since that time. It was missed about a fortnight before the 21st of March. The prisoner may have seen the parcel, as she usually resorted to the drawer for paper to light her fires. After dinner I remarked that the knives with which the dumplings had been cut had changed colour. They turned black and they still remain so. I spoke to the prisoner about the dumplings on the Wednesday, and I asked her how she came to put anything into them so hurtful, but she answered that it was not in anything which she had prepared, but in the milk which Sarah Peer had brought in, and with which her mistress had ordered her to make the sauce. That milk had been used in the sauce only. The dumplings had been mixed with the milk which had been left at breakfast.

Roger Gadsden said, I am an apprentice to Mr. Turner. I remember seeing the packet of arsenic in the drawer, and I missed it a day or two after the 7th of March. On Tuesday, the 21st of March, I went into the kitchen between three and four o'clock, and I observed a plate on the table, on which were a dumpling and a half. I had dined at two o'clock, but I took up a knife and fork, and was going to eat the dumpling, when the prisoner exclaimed, "Gadsden, do not eat that; it is cold and heavy; it will do you no good." I ate a piece about the size of a walnut, and there being some sauce in the boat, I sopped it up with a piece of bread and ate it. I then went into the office, and Mr. Turner came there in about ten minutes after, and said he was very ill. About ten minutes after that I was taken ill, but not so ill as to vomit. I was sent off for Mr. Turner's mother. I was very sick going and coming--I thought I should die. The prisoner had made yeast dumplings for supper the night before: I and Peer and the prisoner partook of them: they were quite different from these dumplings in point of colour and weight, and very good.

Margaret Turner sworn.--I was sent for. When I arrived I found my husband, son, and daughter, extremely ill. The prisoner, very soon after I was there, was ill, and vomiting. I exclaimed to her, "Oh, these devilish dumplings!" supposing they had done the mischief. She said, "Not the dumplings, but the milk, madam." I asked her "What milk?" She said, "The halfpenny-worth of milk that Sally fetched, to make the sauce." She said my daughter made the sauce. I said, "That cannot be; it could not be the sauce." She said, "Yes; Gadsden ate a very little bit of dumpling, not bigger than a nut; but licked up three parts of a boat of sauce with a bit of bread."

Mrs. Turner, jun., being called, said--"The sauce was made with the milk brought by Sarah Peer. I mixed it, and left it for her to make."

Robert Gregson Turner sworn.--I partook of the dumplings at dinner; I ate none of the sauce whatever. Soon after dinner I was taken ill: I first felt an inclination to be sick; I then felt a strong heat across my chest. I was extremely sick; I was exactly as my father and wife were. I had eaten a dumpling and a half, and I suffered more than any other person. I should presume that the symptoms were such as would be produced by poison.

Sarah Peer sworn.--I have been servant to Mrs. Turner near eleven months. I recollect the warning given to the prisoner some time after she came. After that I heard her say she should not like Mr. or Mrs. Robert Turner any more. On the 21st of March I went for some milk after two o'clock, after I had dined with the prisoner on beef-steak pie. I had no concern whatever in making the dough for the dumplings, or in making the sauce. I was not in the kitchen when the dough was made: I never meddled with it, or put anything to it; I never was in the kitchen after I went up to make the beds, a quarter after eleven, until dinner time. I had permission to go out that afternoon, directly after I took up the dumplings. I went out directly. I came home at nine o'clock exactly. I ate none of the dumplings myself. In eating the beef-steak pie, I ate some of the crust. I was not at all ill. I had eaten some dumplings she had made the night before: I never tasted any better. They were all made out of the same flour. I had no difference with my mistress at any time.

Cross-examined by Mr. Alley.--I had occasionally quarrelled with the prisoner. I went sometimes to visit my friends, but it was generally on Sundays. I never went on a week-day except on this occasion. I know nothing of the drawer in which the arsenic was. The paper which I used for lighting fires was kept in the dining-room. I never went to the drawer in the office, nor did I ever see or hear of any poison being kept there.

An officer of Hatton Garden and the brewer's man were then successively examined. The first proved that on his apprehending the prisoner, she declared that she thought the poison must have been in the yeast, as she saw a red settlement in it after she had used it, and the second stated that the yeast was good, and that he delivered it to the girl Peer.

Mr. John Marshall, a surgeon, was then sworn, and he stated that on his being called in to Mr. Orlibar Turner's family he found them all labouring under symptoms of having taken arsenic, and that the prisoner was also ill, and exhibited similar symptoms. On the following day he saw a pan, and on his examining its contents he found them to contain arsenic. He had also examined the yeast which was left and the flour tub, and they were both devoid of arsenic. The poison being cut would blacken the knife.

The case for the prosecution being closed, the prisoner made the following defence:--

"I am truly innocent of the whole charge; I am innocent; indeed I am. I liked my place, and was very comfortable. Gadsden behaved improperly to me; my mistress came and saw me undressed; she said she did not like it; I said 'Ma'am, it is Gadsden that has taken a liberty with me.' The next morning I said, 'I hope you do not think anything of what passed last night.' She was in a great passion, and said she would not put up with it; I was to go away directly. I did not look upon Mrs. Turner as my mistress, but upon the old lady. In the evening the old lady came to town; I said, 'I am going away to-night;' Mrs. Turner said, 'Do not think any more about it; I don't.' She asked Mrs. Robert Turner if she was willing for me to go. She said 'No, she thought no more about it.' As to my master saying I did not assist him, I was too ill. I had no concern with that drawer at all; when I wanted a piece of paper I always asked for it."

The prisoner called five witnesses, who gave her an excellent character for integrity, sobriety, cheerfulness, and humanity. One of them was proceeding to state an accidental conversation which he had with the prisoner two days after she had ordered the yeast, wherein she declared herself happy and contented with her situation, and pleased with her master and mistress; but the recorder stopped him, saying it was not evidence.

Whilst the trial was proceeding, William Fenning, the father of the prisoner, went to a public-house, and got a person (for he was too agitated himself) to write on a slip of paper, that on the 21st of March he went to Mr. Turner's, his daughter having sent for him in the morning, and that Sarah Peer told him Eliza had gone with a message for her mistress, whilst, at the same time, she was in agonies below-stairs from the effect of having eaten of the dumplings. He then went home, and thought no more about it.

When this note was written, it was handed to Mr. Alley, who, standing upon tiptoe, showed it to the recorder, who leaned over and looked at it, but no further notice was taken of it.

Other efforts were made by the prisoner to produce witnesses, but as they were not in attendance, the court said that it was too late, and that the trial could not be suspended for their coming.

The recorder then proceeded to sum up the case, and the jury in a few minutes brought in a verdict of guilty. The recorder having then passed sentence of death upon her, the miserable girl was carried from the bar convulsed with agony, and uttering frightful screams.

Few cases ever excited greater interest than that of Eliza Fenning; and we are happy in being able to state that her religious principles were correct, and her professions sincere. Through life she was distinguished by a superiority of intellect, and a propriety of deportment, which could hardly be reconciled with the depravity of which she was accused. In person she was short of stature, but of the most perfect symmetry; while her countenance evinced a heart at ease, and a mind at once intellectual and lively. She had been before the fatal transaction betrothed to a young man, to whom she appears to have been sincerely attached.

After the unfortunate girl's conviction she was induced to apply to the Crown for a remission of the sentence of death, and sent a petition to the prince regent. She next addressed the lord chancellor, to whom she sent a statement of all the exculpatory circumstances of her case. She also sent a letter to Lord Sidmouth, and another to her late master, requesting him to sign a petition in her favour, with which however he refused to comply.

Several gentlemen interested themselves in the fate of the poor girl; and Mr. Montagu, of Lincoln's Inn, waited on the recorder, offering to produce evidence of a member of Mr. Turner's family, who was insane, having declared that he would poison the family; but the recorder assured him that the production of such evidence would be wholly useless.

The night before her execution a meeting of gentlemen took place in Mr. Newman's apartments in Newgate, at which Mr. Gibson, of the house of Corbyn and Co., chemists, No. 300, Holborn, stated that Robert Gregson Turner, in the month of September or October, called at their house in a wild and deranged state, requesting to be put under restraint, otherwise he declared he should destroy himself and wife. Mr. Gibson also stated that it was well known in the family that Robert Turner was occasionally subject to such violent and strange conduct.

With this information Mr. Gibson, accompanied by a clerk from the secretary of state's office, waited on the recorder, requesting that the unfortunate girl might be respited to admit of investigation; but all was of no avail, and in twelve hours after, Eliza Fenning was executed!

From the moment the poor girl was first charged with the poisoning, however or by whomsoever questioned, she never faltered in her denial of the crime, and rather courted than shunned an investigation of her case. So many circumstances, which had developed themselves subsequently to the trial, had been communicated to the secretary of state by the gentlemen who interested themselves in her favour (among whom were some of great respectability), that a reprieve was confidently expected to the last: and the order for her execution, four months after her conviction, was received with very great surprise.

On Tuesday morning, the 25th July, she took her last farewell of her father, who, by the firmness of his manner, exemplified the courage he wished his child to sustain upon the scaffold: but with her mother the parting scene was heart-rending.

On the fatal morning, the 26th July, 1815, she slept till four o'clock, when she arose, and, after carefully washing herself, and spending some time in prayer, she dressed herself neatly in a white muslin gown and cap. About eight o'clock she walked steadily to the spot where criminals are bound; and, whilst the executioner tied her hands--even whilst he wound the halter round her waist--she stood erect and unmoved, with astonishing fortitude. At this moment a gentleman who had greatly interested himself in her behalf adjured her, in the name of that God in whose presence she was about to appear, if she knew anything of the crime for which she was about to suffer, to make it known; when she replied distinctly and clearly, "Before God then, I die innocent!" The question was again put by the reverend Mr. Vazie, as well as by the ordinary, and finally, by Oldfield, a prisoner who suffered with her, and to each she repeated "I am innocent." These were her last words; and she died without a struggle, at the age of twenty-one.

Her miserable parents, on application for her body, were not prepared to pay the executioner's fees of fourteen shillings and sixpence: but having borrowed the money with some difficulty, the remains of their daughter were handed over to them.

We have endeavoured to give the circumstances of this case as clearly and with as little prejudice as possible, but we should not do our duty, if we were not to state that the public mind was much inflamed at the execution of the unhappy prisoner. Thousands of persons, after examining the evidence adduced at the trial, did not hesitate to express their opinions very strongly upon the subject of the case; and many of the lower orders, apparently convinced of the innocence of the sufferer, assembled in front of Mr. Turner's house, in Chancery-lane, hooting and hissing, and otherwise expressing their indignation, at what they conceived to be their unjust prosecution of their servant. The police were active in their exertions to suppress the tumult; and an affidavit made by Davis, a turnkey in Newgate, was industriously circulated, in which the deponent swore that old Fenning had conjured his daughter, when she went upon the scaffold, to declare her innocence: a counter affidavit of the father of the wretched girl, however, was produced and published, and the assertion of the jailer was at length admitted to have been founded upon a mistaken interpretation of what had really passed. The mob continued to assemble for many days, and it was not until the police had taken very vigorous measures against them, that they were finally dispersed. The public still sympathised with the unhappy parents of Eliza Fenning, and a subscription was entered into for their benefit.

JOSEPH BLACKBURN.

EXECUTED FOR FORGERY.

The particulars of the melancholy case of this unfortunate gentleman, will be best described by the report of his trial which has reached us, which took place at York on the 18th March 1815, before Sir Simon Le Blanc. He was then placed at the bar and arraigned on two indictments, charging him with forging and counterfeiting the impression of a certain stamp or die, used under the direction of the Commissioners of Stamps, to denote the payment of certain duties imposed on various deeds and other securities, on vellum, parchment, or paper, and also with uttering the same, knowing it to be forged, with an intent to defraud the revenue of the duties imposed on such stamped vellum, parchment, or paper. To these indictments he pleaded--Not guilty. Mr. Blackburn was then arraigned on two other indictments, charging him with feloniously removing stamps from executed deeds, and affixing them upon others, with an intent to defraud the revenue; to these indictments he also pleaded--Not guilty. He was then charged in another indictment with the same offence, jointly with Mr. Thomas Wainewright, who was charged with feloniously aiding and assisting in this illegal removal of stamps. To this indictment both the prisoners severally pleaded--Not guilty.

As soon as the jury were sworn, Mr. Wainewright, at the suggestion of the counsel for the prosecution, retired from the bar, and the court proceeded to the trial of Mr. Blackburn, on one of the capital indictments for forgery. The clerk of the arraigns read the indictment. It charged the prisoner with feloniously forging, and counterfeiting the resemblance of a certain stamp or die, used by the Commissioners of Stamps, to denote the payment of duties imposed on vellum, parchment, and paper, viz. for the payment of two pounds, imposed by the 48th of George III. on mortgage deeds, with intent to defraud his Majesty, his heirs, or successors. Another count in the indictment charged him with uttering the said forged stamps, knowing the same to be false, forged, and counterfeited, with the like intent to defraud his Majesty, his heirs, or successors.

The counsel for the crown were, Mr. Park, Mr. Topping, Mr. Wailes, and Mr. Richardson.

The counsel for the prisoner--Mr. Scarlett, Mr. Littledale, and Mr. Williams.

Mr. Park opened the case to the jury, and said,--I am counsel against the unfortunate gentleman now at the bar. This is a prosecution by the Commissioners of Stamps, who in the discharge of their professional duty have thought it incumbent upon them to institute this inquiry, and which indeed they could not have omitted to do without a gross dereliction of the duty they owed to the public. They have no interest in this prosecution, and whatever be the result of this day's inquiry, they will be satisfied with your decision. The crime imputed to the prisoner by this indictment, is not merely calculated to defraud the public revenue, but tends to affect the security of the property of individuals, and that in the most serious manner, for if deeds, or other written instruments for the transfer of property, have affixed to them forged or improper stamps, they have no validity, and convey no rights to the parties in whose favour they are executed. This consideration must at once impress you with a conviction of the great importance of the present case; as the conveyance of property by instruments the most solemn known to the law, is thereby defeated, the contract becomes invalid, and the deed by which it was intended to be effected, of no possible use. Nor is it too much to say, that the rights of future generations may be affected by the consequences of the crime imputed to the prisoner.

It is, gentlemen, with the most unfeigned concern, that I have risen to address you on the present occasion. This is the first time, during a practice of thirty years at the bar, that it has fallen to my lot to be concerned in a prosecution for felony against any person with whom I have had any personal acquaintance. Mr. Blackburn (the prisoner) I have long known; he has conducted actions in which I have been engaged for him, and others in which I have been retained by the adverse party: and though when I first heard the name I did not know how to affix it to the person, yet now, when (for the first time since this prosecution has been depending) I see him, I find that I know the gentleman perfectly well. We at the bar are, however, bound to aid the administration of the public justice of the country, and must do justice to the country, and to the crown, on whose behalf we are engaged, and cannot shrink from the performance of our professional duty, however painful to our feelings the exercise of it may occasionally be. But the Government, the Commissioners of Stamps, and those who on their account conduct this prosecution, are very far from having any wish to oppress these individuals; their only desire is, that justice should be done between them and the country, and this justice I have no doubt will be done by you.

If the prisoner is guilty of the offence imputed to him by this indictment, his crime is greater than that of any other individual, because there is no one who is so much obliged by his profession to understand the principles of morality. The very first rudiments of his profession must have rendered familiar to him those principles of justice on which the law is founded; and in his long attendance at these courts, he must (in addition to sound lessons of law) have heard the principles of moral obligation enforced by the learned judges who have from time to time presided here, and which ought to have had the effect of rooting them in his mind.

Having made these few preliminary observations, I shall proceed to state the nature of the charge against the prisoner, and the evidence by which that charge is meant to be substantiated. The charge against the prisoner is that of having forged, or caused to be forged, or counterfeited, the impression of a certain stamp or die, used by the commissioners (appointed by his Majesty, to manage the duties on stamped vellum, parchment, or paper) to denote the payment of a certain duty, imposed by the 48th of the King, on mortgage deeds, which are laid ad valorem, that is, in a ratio proportioned to the money secured by such deeds. The amount of the money secured by the deed which is the subject of this inquiry, is 180_l._ and the stamp required for this sum, must be of the value of 2_l._; for in the schedule affixed to the act, it states, that from 150_l._ to a sum not exceeding 200_l._ the duty shall be 2_l._ The subject-matter of this prosecution is, that in order to evade the duty imposed by this act, the prisoner affixed a forged and counterfeit stamp to an instrument, purporting to be a mortgage deed; and also that he uttered or published the same, well knowing it to be false, forged, or counterfeited. The penal act on which this prosecution is founded, is an act of the 52nd year of the king, intituled, "An act for amending and reducing into one act, the provisions contained in any laws now in force, imposing the penalty of death, for any act done in breach of or in resistance to any part of the laws, for collecting His Majesty's revenue in Great Britain." In this statute, cap. 143, section 7, it is enacted, "that if any person shall, after the passing of this act, forge or counterfeit, or cause to be forged or counterfeited, any mark, stamp, die, or plate, which in pursuance of any act or acts of parliament, shall have been provided, made or used, by or under the direction of the commissioners, appointed to manage the duties on stamped vellum, parchments, or paper, or by or under the direction of any other person or persons, legally authorised in that behalf, for expressing or denoting any duty or duties, or any part thereof, which shall be under the care and management of the said commissioners, or if any person shall utter, or sell, or expose to sale, any vellum, parchment, or paper, &c. having thereupon the impression of any such forged or counterfeited mark, every person so offending, and being thereof convicted, shall be adjudged guilty of felony, and shall suffer as a felon, without benefit of clergy." I will now lay before you the evidence by which we propose to establish this charge against the prisoner.

A person of the name of Taylor, being desirous of borrowing upon the security of an estate the sum of 180_l._, of a Friendly Benefit Society, called the Clothiers' Society, sent the title deeds of his estate to the office of the prisoner, who as you will have already collected is an attorney; to enable him to make out the necessary security, and who accordingly prepared a mortgage deed. This deed bears date the 13th of September 1812; but whether it was executed at that time we do not know, but it was executed some time before February in the ensuing year, because we find that on the 12th February it was registered at the proper office at Wakefield. At what period the stamp upon this deed, which we allege to be a forged one, was affixed to this deed we have no means of proving, but it must have been previous to its passing into the hands of Thompson the steward, who deposited it in the box of the society, where it remained until it was taken out for the purpose of this inquiry. That this is the deed delivered by the prisoner to Thompson, I shall prove beyond all doubt. Gentlemen, I shall prove to your entire satisfaction, that the stamp affixed to this deed is a forged one, and we shall also offer the strongest evidence to convince you it was forged by the prisoner, and uttered by him, knowing it to be forged. But before I enter directly upon this proof, it may be proper to state to you something of the manner in which the business of the Stamp-office is managed, particularly with respect to the state and manner in which stamps are issued from it, but which statement I shall prove by evidence. It will be clearly proved to you, that stamps are not issued from the office in detached labels, to be afterwards affixed to the different instruments, but are stamped upon the paper or parchment on which the instrument or deed is to be prepared, and the impression is made with an engine of such power, that the impression made by it is visible on the back of the parchment. This is a circumstance of some importance to be attended to in this inquiry. I would also observe to you that on all the stamped parchments, issued by the Stamp-office in London, the words "This Indenture," are printed from an engraved plate in large characters. These circumstances will be fully proved by the evidence of the gentlemen from the Stamp-office, whom I shall call before you. The prisoner did not choose to have his skins from the Stamp-office, but provided them himself, and employed an engraver in Leeds, to engrave him a plate, or rather two plates with the words "This Indenture," in characters resembling those issued by the Stamp-office, and from these plates he had impressions taken upon skins at various times. I do not mention this with a view to prejudice the prisoner, or to insinuate anything to his disadvantage, because he had a right to prepare his own skins, and send them to be stamped, if he chose it; but I mention it because it will be necessary to explain part of the evidence which I shall lay before you, and to show the manner in which (as we allege) the offence imputed to the prisoner has been committed.

Gentlemen, the whole of the stamp affixed to this deed is not false and counterfeited; the impression of the king's arms and the "device," are part of the genuine stamp, but the words, "Two Pounds," which denote the value of it, are forged, and the way in which we account for it is this; we say that the stamp affixed to this deed has been taken from some other deed, and affixed by some cement to this, and that the former denominating words have been obliterated, and the words "Two Pounds," impressed by some die or stamp, resembling that used for denoting the duty of two pounds by the commissioners of stamps. Gentlemen, I state it without hesitation, as the law, and I am sure his lordship concurs with me, that the forgery of any material part of any stamp or die, or other instrument, is as much a forgery, as if the whole of it was actually forged: and the words which denote the value of the stamp, must unquestionably be considered as a most material part of it, and the person who has done this, or aided the doing of it, or caused it to be done, is guilty of forgery. That this stamp was not affixed to the deed at the Stamp-office, and in the usual manner may be made evident to an inexperienced eye; for it will be proved to you, that those parchments which have passed through the stamping engine have a visible impression of the stamp on the back of the skin, which is not the case in this deed; the stamp of which has been transferred from some other instrument. These circumstances would alone form a strong presumption against the prisoner: but the next branch of evidence I shall adduce, will convert this presumption into certainty; for I shall prove to you, that he employed an engraver at Leeds to make him thirteen or fourteen dies, suitable for the purpose of making any impression, resembling the words which denote the value that are upon the stamps used by the commissioners. I have the impression from those dies now in my hand, and it will be proved to you that the numerals and words "II Pounds," impressed upon the stamp of the deed, which I will lay before the court, is an impression from one of those dies. These dies, gentlemen, were found in the possession of the prisoner, under the circumstances I shall shortly state to you. When the rumour of these transactions first came out, the house of the prisoner was searched by the officers of justice; the prisoner was not at home, but in a room which was locked and broken open by the officers, was found upon a table a box containing these dies; and on a further search, a number of old deeds were found, from which the stamps had been cut off, and also a number of articles material for throwing light on this subject, which will be produced to you. Perhaps it may not be necessary to point out to you the manner in which the prisoner would be benefited by this transfer, and forgery of stamps. But as it will complete the statement, I will just add that by taking the stamps from old instruments, and affixing them upon new ones, he was enabled to put into his pocket the whole amount of the duty, as he would of course charge the nominal value of the stamps to his clients, and where the denominating value was not for the sum he wished, we presume that it might be changed by the use of these dies. I think I have before stated, that we shall prove the uttering of this deed to Mr. Thompson. This, gentlemen, is a short detail of the circumstances, from which we contend, that you must come to the conclusion, that the prisoner forged, or procured to be forged, this stamp, and that it was uttered by him, or with his privity, he knowing it to be forged. It is for you, gentlemen, after hearing the evidence which shall be laid before you, on the part of the prosecution, and for the prisoner, with the observations and recapitulation of the learned judge, to decide upon his guilt or innocence, and with your decision the prosecutors will be satisfied. If, having heard the whole of the case, any reasonable doubt remains upon your minds, the prisoner ought to have the benefit of that doubt, and in that case you ought to acquit him; but if you find the circumstances which go to prove the guilt of the prisoner so strong and well connected, as fully to satisfy you upon the subject, it will then be a duty you owe to your oaths, to God, and your country, to find the prisoner guilty. The prisoner, to use the impressive language of the law, has put himself upon God and his country--which country you are; and I feel convinced that your verdict will be such as will be just to the prisoner, and to the public justice of the country.

Witnesses were then called, who proved the material circumstances related by the learned counsel in his opening speech, as to the drawing the deed, and depositing it with the steward of the society. The evidence as to the practice of the Stamp-office, and the forgery of the stamp in question, was as follows:--

Mr. Abraham Smith stated, that he was one of the stampers at the Stamp-office, in London, and had been in that situation sixteen or seventeen years. Being requested to state the manner in which the operation of stamping was performed, he said, that when the stamping for the day was concluded, the dies were put into strong-boxes, placed in the strong-room and locked up. They were taken into the room and delivered out to the stampers by one of the clerks of the office, who kept the key of the room. No labels were ever on any occasion stamped without being attached to the parchment, and of course no stamps could ever be issued detached from the parchment or paper on which the instrument was intended to be executed. The die for the two-pound stamps had not been varied; the die was fixed in an engine, which struck the impression with great force. On looking at the deed, witness stated that he had no hesitation in saying, that the numeral "II" and the word "Pounds" were false and counterfeit, and were not a genuine impression from the die used by the commissioners; but that the device of the King's arms and the rest of the stamps were genuine. Witness then proceeded to point out the difference between the impression of the genuine stamp, and that affixed to the die in question, which partly consisted in a variation of the semicircle, and in a further difference of the depth and entire appearance of the denominating part of the stamp in question. This difference, he said, arose from the circumstance that in the genuine stamp the whole impression was struck at once, both the King's arms and the letters, but that in that on the deed now in his hands, it was evident that the numeral letters "II" had been impressed by one instrument, and the word "Pounds" by another; and from which the original words denoting the value had been by some means erased. Witness then examined the back of the deed, and said, it was clear that the stamp had not been impressed upon it at the office, because if it had, the impression would have penetrated the parchment, and made an indention on the back. Upon the whole, witness stated it as his decided opinion that the stamp shown him was false and counterfeit. The witness was cross-examined by Mr. Scarlett, and admitted that the impression of the King's arms, and all parts of it, with the exception of the words denoting the value, were genuine; and that the stamp had undoubtedly at some time or other been issued from the office.

William Kappen, Esq. stated that he was secretary to the Stamp-office, and had in October last been employed twenty-four or twenty-five years in that office, though not the whole of the time in the situation he then occupied. He was perfectly acquainted with the various dies used by the office, and the manner in which the general business of the office was conducted. The deed being handed to him he examined it with great attention, and then stated that the "II" and the word "Pounds" were not impressed by the stamp used by the commissioners, but that the rest of the stamp was genuine. Witness then produced a paper which contained an impression from the II Pound stamp used by the commissioners, which he stated to have been struck in his presence, and pointed out to the court and jury the respects in which the impression of the forged stamp differed from that produced by him. Witness having completed his description, said he had not the least hesitation in stating that that part of the stamp shown to him which denoted the value, was false and counterfeit: he also stated, that the back of the deed bore no resemblance to the impression of the stamps struck at the office, which made an impression through the parchment perfectly visible on the other side of the skin, being impressed with great force by the engine, which completed the whole of the stamp at once. Witness was cross-examined by Mr. Littledale. He stated that the commissioners continued the use of the dies in these cases where they were applicable after any augmentation of the duties, and this they were empowered to do by act of parliament. After any augmentation of the duties, the commissioners had impressions taken of all the dies in use, from which they selected such as were applicable to the new duties, and impressions of these were struck in the presence of the commissioners, or the major part of them. These impressions were put into a book, and signed by the officers employed in that department, and the dies from which these impressions were taken, continued to be used until some further alteration took place in the duties. The office never sold stamps to private individuals, but they were furnished to the public through the medium of the stamp distributors. He also stated, that no stamp was ever printed on any separate label, detached from the papers or parchment on which the instrument was to be executed. But he added, that if any person should send an unexecuted parchment or instrument to stamp, to the head office, it would be stamped upon the payment of the proper duty.

Evidence as to the discovery of the forged dies, in the office of the prisoner, was next adduced; and on the cross-examination of the witnesses, an effort was made to show that a person named Jacques, who had been the informant against the prisoner, might have been implicated in placing the dies in the position in which they were found, and that he might have been induced to take that course, in consequence of a threatened prosecution by the prisoner, in whose service he had been as clerk, for embezzlement. Two witnesses were called, who were engravers, and who had prepared the copper plates of "This Indenture," printed on the deeds, and also the dies for counterfeiting the words "II Pounds." Mr. Topham, the engraver, who was last called, however, failed in proving very distinctly, that the impressions on the stamp alleged to be forged were taken from the dies which he had prepared. The officers of stamps expressed their belief that they were so taken from the dies. Upon the production of the detached stamps found at the prisoner's house, it was stated that in their present state they were useless, because although the Stamp-office returned the value of stamps which were spoiled, yet they would not do so unless when attached to the parchment. Those stamps were also proved to have been detached from the original deeds with some object, as they were found enclosed in parcels in papers, with indorsements in the prisoner's hand-writing, denoting their amount and value.

The evidence for the prosecution having been concluded,

Mr. Scarlett rose and said, "My Lord, I have two objections, which I will submit to the consideration of your lordship, which will, as I conceive, be fatal to this prosecution. There are two facts which the prosecutor is bound to make out before he can substantiate the allegations in this indictment. The first is, that the die or stamp, respecting which the forgery is alleged to have been committed, was a die used by the direction and under the authority of the commissioners of the stamps. Now, my lord, I contend that there is no evidence of this fact to go to the jury, because I confidently submit to your lordship, that parole evidence, which is all they have offered, is not admissible under the circumstances which have been given in evidence, because it is an axiom in law, that the best evidence must always be given which the case will admit of; your lordship has heard from Mr. Kappen that the stamps authorised to be used by the commissioners, were in their presence impressed in a book. This book has not been produced, and as no evidence has been given to show that it was lost or destroyed, parole evidence was not admissible to show the nature of its contents. That it is an essential part of the case, that the die should have been directed or authorised to be used by the commissioners of the stamps, is evident from a reference to the 52 of the King, section 7, which states, that if any person after the passing of that act, shall forge or counterfeit, or cause to be forged or counterfeited, any mark, stamp, die, or plate, which in pursuance of any act of parliament shall have been provided, made, or used, by or under the direction of the commissioners appointed to manage the duties on stamped paper, and so on. Now, my lord, what I contend for is this, that the entry in that book is the only proof that this die of £2 was used by or under the direction and authority of the commissioners, and that this entry can only be proved by the production of the book itself. Supposing, my lord, that the book had been produced, and that upon inspection it should turn out that there was no stamp of 2_l._ inserted there, in this case your lordship must allow that the prosecution would fail; but as the best evidence that it does contain this entry has not been given, it must be presumed in favour of the prisoner, that the book does not contain this entry. Had there been a written order in the usual acceptation of the term by the commissioners for the use of such and such stamps, your lordship would not have admitted parole evidence to be given of the contents of this order, unless satisfactory proof was given that it was destroyed, or could not be produced; and I humbly submit to your lordship, that the entry of the impressions of the dies in this book renders it completely of the nature of a written document, and places it within the same rules of law. I therefore humbly submit to your lordship, that there is no legal evidence to go before the jury, on this material allegation in the indictment, and that the prisoner is entitled to be acquitted."

Mr. Justice Le Blanc.--I think there is evidence to go to the jury. The commissioners gave their order by parole, they did not give a written order.

Mr. Scarlett.--The directions to the officers to impress the stamps in the book was certainly by parole, but I humbly submit to your lordship, that when the impressions were made in a book, that book must be considered in the light of a written order.

Mr. Justice Le Blanc.--I cannot take it to be an appointment in writing; and I consider the evidence which has been given as to the use of stamps as perfectly admissible, and as proof to go to the jury.

His lordship having overruled this objection,

Mr. Scarlett said, I will now trouble your lordship with respect to my second objection, which I consider as the most material and as decisive of the fate of the prosecution. The prisoner is substantially charged with forging a die or stamp used by the commissioners, with an intent to defraud the revenue. Now in the first place it is clearly proved by the gentlemen from the Stamp-office, that the whole of the stamp, except the words "two pounds," is genuine, and also that the stamp has been issued from the office. I need not insist before your lordship that to constitute a forgery there must be an alteration or imitation of some material part of a die, stamp, or instrument. In the present case it is alleged, that the "II Pounds" in the stamp which has been produced in court is not an impression from the genuine stamp. But in order to substantiate this charge, the prosecutors ought to have gone much further, and have proved that there had been an alteration in the value of the stamp. When the stamp was issued from the office it must have borne some value, and for aught that appears in evidence, it might have been of the value of 2_l._, and therefore I have a right to presume that it was of that value, and that whatever alteration may have taken place in it, has only been a re-impression of the original words denoting the value of it. Now, my lord, I contend, that if this was the only alteration made in this stamp, the charge against the prisoner cannot be sustained. I will put a case, Suppose a man erase from a Bank-of-England note, a five-pound note for instance; he obliterates, suppose, by some chemical process, Five Pounds, and then impresses upon it the same value. This clearly would not be a forgery, nor could he be convicted, unless it could be proved that this note had previously been of a lower value, and this would be a case exactly resembling the present prosecution. There are two circumstances necessary to constitute a forgery, the counterfeiting or altering the material part of an instrument, that which affects its value, and the doing it with an intent to defraud. I contend therefore, with great confidence, that neither of these has been proved in the present case, because no alteration affecting the value of the stamp has been even attempted to be proved; and that unless it can be proved that the alteration was of such a nature as to alter its value, and make it pass for a different sum to what it originally bore, the case on the part of the prosecution cannot be sustained, and the prisoner must be discharged from this prosecution. Mr. Scarlett dwelt on this point a considerable time, placing it in various points of view, and illustrating it by reference to similar cases.

Mr. Littledale and Mr. Williams followed on the same side.

Mr. Park on the other side, urged that the objections could not prevail; and that the stamp having been altered in its essential part--that which gave it operation, the forgery was clearly made out.

Sir Simon Le Blanc gave his decision in the following terms: "I have been anxious to hear and to attend to all that has been offered in support of the objections taken by the counsel for the prisoner. The charge against the prisoner is substantially this, that by a false die or mark he impressed or caused to be impressed the resemblance of a die used by the commissioners on a parchment-deed, with an intent to defraud the revenue. To this, two objections have been urged; the first objection is, that evidence has not been given, that the die of which this impression is alleged to be the resemblance, was a die used by the direction and authority of the commissioners of the stamps; and the second objection denies that any forgery has been committed. With respect to the first objection the court has already expressed its opinion, that there is evidence to go to the jury of the use of the die by the commissioners, and this is all that is necessary to be given in evidence. The Act of the 48 George III., which imposes this duty, and the 52 George III., which unites in one act all the laws inflicting the punishment of death for offences against the revenue laws, both agree in this. The 48 of George III. in reference to this point enacts, "That if any person shall forge or counterfeit, or cause to be forged or counterfeited, any stamp or die, which shall be provided, made, or used, in pursuance of this Act, or of any former Act," shall be adjudged guilty of felony, &c. The 52 George III. after stating "that if any person shall after the passing of this Act, forge, &c. any mark, stamp or die, used by or under the direction of the commissioners," &c. goes on to add, "or by or under the direction of any person or persons legally authorised on that behalf." The court therefore holds, that the use by the commissioners is all that is requisite, and that of this use there is evidence to submit to the consideration of the jury. The court therefore does not consider this objection as valid. The other objection proceeds on the ground, that no forgery has been committed, inasmuch as it has not been proved, that any alteration has been made in the value of the stamp. It is contended, that as a considerable part of the stamp has been proved to be genuine, and must have been issued from the Stamp-office, with words denoting its value, this value, for aught that appears to the contrary, may have been the same that is now impressed upon it, and that in fact there has only been a re-impression of the same words which were upon the stamp when it was first issued. And upon this assumption it is contended, that as no material part of the instrument has been altered, there has been no legal forgery. But it is unnecessary to give any opinion on the validity of this inference, because the foundation has not been laid, on which alone there could be a reason for examining it, there having been no evidence given to prove that this stamp was originally of the value of two pounds, and it undoubtedly lay upon the prisoner to prove this. For the case stands thus: There is a forged impression of a die upon an instrument, proved to have been in the possession of the prisoner, under circumstances which certainly call for explanation, and also in whose possession a number of dies are found, made too by his own order, and two of which appear to have been used to make an impression, an impression proved to be false and counterfeit upon this instrument. If these facts are not accounted for by evidence, or explained somehow or other, the presumption in law is, that this false impression was forged for the purpose of increasing or altering its value, and for the purpose of defrauding the revenue. This presumption thus raised it is for the prisoner to repel by evidence, but there is certainly prima facie evidence to go to a jury. That the alteration of a material part of an instrument is a forgery has been solemnly determined, by all the Judges, in a modern case, so that it cannot now be called in question. I cannot therefore, on these grounds, stop the cause from going on." The learned Judge concluded by calling on the prisoner for his defence.

Mr. Blackburn, who laboured under great and evident emotion, addressed the Court and Jury in the following terms:--

"In the painful and anxious situation in which I am unhappily placed, I am ill-fitted for the task of addressing you on this occasion. Agitated as I am between hope and fear, I can only solemnly assure you that I never forged a stamp in my life; but the public mind has been prejudiced against me by unfounded reports and advertisements, containing vile insinuations against me. But, gentlemen, I entreat and charge you upon your oaths, that you banish all that you have heard out of this court from your minds, and all that I have to wish from you is, that you be influenced only by the evidence, and that you will do unto me as you would wish to be done unto, were you placed in my unfortunate situation. I have practised as an attorney among my townsmen and neighbours with credit and respectability for twenty-seven years; you will hear from them upon their oaths, the character I have maintained during that period. In making my defence, I have many great and, indeed, insuperable difficulties to contend with: I am called to furnish an answer, and that by evidence, against a charge which I never heard of until I entered this court, for until I heard the indictment read I had no knowledge of that which they have imputed to me by this indictment, and of course it was absolutely impossible for me to be prepared with evidence to rebut the charge. With respect to the deed in question, I know nothing of it, it has been long out of my possession, and it is clear by the evidence of the witnesses for the prosecution, that it has been very much exposed. I would only observe that if it had not had a regular stamp affixed to it, the engrossing clerk must have seen it, and it must likewise have been observed at the office when the deed was registered. When my house was searched, my account-books were taken away, which has deprived me of all means of tracing the deed in question, or of proving where the stamp was bought; I had therefore no clue to direct my search. With respect to the spoiled stamps, I would observe, that they have lain by me a long time, and that the period of claiming the allowance for them has long elapsed. It often happens, that after a deed is engrossed, the execution may be delayed a very considerable time beyond the period allowed for claiming the allowance, and if ultimately it should not be executed the stamp would be entirely lost; this will account for the spoiled stamps which in a long series of time have been accumulated. I declare to you, gentlemen, that the deed in question had upon it a regular stamp when it was executed in my office, and I trust you will not presume anything against me; that you will attend only to the evidence, and that you will decide upon my fate with the same candour as you would wish in similar circumstances to have shown to you. My life is in your hands. I shall bow with resignation to your decision, and I trust that your decision will be right."

As many as twenty-four gentlemen of the highest respectability were called to speak to the prisoner's character, and they all joined in declaring that they believed him incapable of committing such an offence as that which was imputed to him.

The learned Judge then proceeded to sum up the case, and the Jury having retired from the Court, for about a quarter of an hour, returned with a verdict of Guilty.

Mr. Blackburn and Mr. Wainewright were subsequently put to the bar together and arraigned upon an indictment, in which they were charged jointly with removing a stamp from one deed and affixing it to another, but the evidence being inconclusive, they were declared to be Not guilty.

The court during the whole day was crowded to excess, and the greatest interest appeared to be excited amongst the inhabitants of Leeds, where the prisoners had lived, many of whom were present. Mr. Blackburn was dressed in a suit of mourning, with his hair powdered. He conducted himself with great propriety during the trial, but upon the verdict of Guilty being returned he appeared to be completely unmanned. He paid no attention whatever to the proceedings in the second trial, nor was he observed to take any notice of his fellow-prisoner, Mr. Wainewright, upon his being placed by his side.

Upon the Wednesday after the trial, sentence of death was passed upon the unhappy man, and on Friday the 24th March Mr. Justice Le Blanc quitted York, leaving him for execution on Saturday the 8th April. The interval was brief, and his friends determined to lose no time in applying to the Prince Regent for a mitigation of his sentence. A petition was accordingly prepared, praying for the exercise of the royal clemency towards him, and in the course of two or three days, this application for mercy was signed by upwards of three thousand persons, chiefly the fellow-townsmen of the unfortunate prisoner. On Sunday, the 26th March, Mr. Elliot Carrett, of Dewsbury, one of the attorneys employed in conducting the defence of the prisoner, went to London, for the purpose of presenting the petition to the Prince Regent, and of taking such other steps as should appear likely to contribute to the attainment of this object of the petition. Mrs. Blackburn, the wife of this unfortunate gentleman, also repaired to London, with the view if possible of throwing herself at the feet of his Royal Highness to supplicate for the life of her unhappy husband. Every means which zeal and friendship could suggest was used to give effect to this petition: applications were made to persons of influence and consideration in the state, to secure their co-operation, but, unhappily, without success; and every hope of procuring either a mitigation or suspension of the dreadful sentence of the law was extinguished by the following letter from Viscount Sidmouth, his Majesty's principal Secretary of State for the Home Department.

Whitehall, 1st April, 1816.

"SIR,--I have laid before his Royal Highness the petition which I received on behalf of Joseph Blackburn, a prisoner under sentence of death in the Castle of York, for forgery; and I am under the painful necessity of acquainting you, that it did not appear to me consistent with my public duty, to advise his Royal Highness to remit or suspend the execution of the sentence passed upon this unfortunate person.

"I have the honour to be, "Sir, your most obedient servant, (Signed) "SIDMOUTH."

Before the result of this application to the Prince Regent was known to either the prisoner or to his friends at Leeds, it was deemed advisable to submit to Mr. Justice Le Blanc, who was then at Lancaster, certain affidavits.

The object of these affidavits was to show that the deed was executed on the day it purported to bear date, which was on the 30th September 1812, and that as the dies spoken to by Mr. Topham were not delivered at the office of Mr. Blackburn until the following month, it was quite impossible that any forgery of the stamp on the deed in question, could have been made by him at the time it was executed.

This application like that to the Crown was unsuccessful, and the unhappy prisoner having received an intimation that no hope remained that his life would be spared, he proceeded anxiously and ardently to apply himself to his religious offices. He was attended up to the time of his execution by the Rev. John Hamilton, the minister of a dissenting congregation at Leeds, to whose religious exhortations he paid the utmost attention. He continued for some days to labour under a despondency approaching to despair, arising as he himself stated, not from the dread of temporal death, but from a deep consciousness of the aggravated guilt of his past life, his total neglect of religious observances, and his gross indulgence in forbidden sensual pleasures. He stated "that the irregularities of his past life had been so great as to have deserved that death which had been awarded against him for an offence of a different nature." He added, "that these crimes had been committed against light and knowledge, and that he had only repented of them, and thought upon religion, when every pleasure had been cut off, and every earthly hope had become extinct." We rejoice however in being able to add, that in a few days some faint rays of hope penetrated the gloom which oppressed his mind; and as the merciful provisions of the gospel were unfolded to him, and its encouraging promises pressed upon his consideration, these hopes became brighter, and cast, if not a brilliant, yet a cheering ray of light on the gloomy path he had yet to tread.

On Thursday, the 6th of April, he attended the chapel, and heard with profound attention, a sermon preached by the Rev. Mr. Richardson, who had some religious conversation with him after the other prisoners had retired. On Friday afternoon the prisoner had a last interview with his brother; his unhappy wife had come to York on the same painful errand, but on Mr. Hamilton representing to her that an interview might disturb the tranquillity of her husband's last hours, she abstained from pressing the request which she had made. She had seen him only once since his conviction, and the meeting was of the most distressing nature.

On the night before the execution, Mr. Hamilton continued in prayer with the wretched prisoner up to a late hour, and he repeatedly expressed himself perfectly resigned and ready at any moment to meet his fate.

On Saturday, at about half-past eleven o'clock, Mr. Blackburn was called from his cell, and, the necessary arrangements having been made, he was conducted to the scaffold supported by Mr. Hamilton. He walked with a firm, unhesitating step, and perfectly erect. It was a quarter before twelve o'clock when the procession arrived upon the platform. The prisoner immediately kneeled down upon a stool provided for the occasion, with his face averted from the numerous spectators, who were assembled to witness this sad and melancholy spectacle.

The reverend gentleman who had with so much zeal and unwearied assiduity attended him in prison, to speak to him the words of peace, did not shrink from the painful task of accompanying him through this last painful stage of his earthly pilgrimage; placing himself near the prisoner, he in a low tone of voice asked him some questions relative to the state of his mind with respect to his approaching change, and particularly with respect to his entire dependence on the mercy of God through the merits and mediation of the Messiah.--To these inquiries he replied, "I have no other, I wish no other trust." Mr. Hamilton now inquired if it was his wish that he should pray with him, and he eagerly replied, "If your feelings on this occasion are not too much agitated, I shall be greatly obliged." Kneeling down close to the prisoner, who kept his eyes closed during the whole of this sad solemnity, he then offered up a prayer at once solemn and tender, and adapted equally to the former character and present situation of the humble penitent before him. Mr. Blackburn appeared deeply to feel and fervently to join in this last act of devotion, and when the minister came to that comprehensive model of devotion, the Lord's Prayer, the prisoner accompanied him in an audible voice.

When Mr. Hamilton rose up from prayer, he took Mr. Blackburn by the hand, and having commended him to the mercy and protection of the Almighty, took a sad adieu of him, conjuring him that when he suffered death, and was entering eternity, he should aim at no higher strain than this, "God be merciful to me a sinner." The poor sufferer grasped his hand, and appeared reluctant to part; and in a voice rendered tremulous by emotion, said, "May God Almighty bless and protect you." It now only remained for the executioner to perform his part in the heart-rending ceremony. Mr. Blackburn was assisted to rise, but it was evident that the powerful emotion of his mind had impaired his strength, and the under jailor supported him in his arms until the fatal cord was placed round his neck, and properly adjusted. At this awful moment he ejaculated, "O Lord God Almighty, have mercy upon me, and preserve my soul alive." These were the last words he was heard to utter, as the drop instantly fell.

It is painful to add that the noose of the cord had, by some means or other, slipped from its proper situation, and he appeared much convulsed. After he had been suspended about two minutes, the executioner endeavoured to replace the cord in its original situation; and though he succeeded in this attempt, it seemed to harrow up the feelings of every person present, and produced a stronger sensation of distress than any part of this mournful ceremony. In about six or seven minutes from the falling of the drop, the unfortunate man appeared insensible of further suffering. The body, after remaining suspended the usual time, was put into a coffin, and delivered to his friends. His remains were interred at an early hour on Monday, at Rothwell, a village near Leeds.

JEREMIAH GRANT

EXECUTED FOR BURGLARY.

The exploits of this celebrated Irish freebooter gained for him a notoriety almost equal to that of his successor Captain Rody. Grant was the son of a poor peasant in the Queen's County, and early evinced a predilection for a life of idleness. His progress in literature amounted to what his countryman shot at, "nothing at all;" but his fertile genius obviated his misfortune in being supremely ignorant of reading and writing, and his daring spirit triumphed over all minor obstacles. Having reached the age of nineteen his "public life" began, for at that time he commenced his depredations upon his fellow-countrymen in the capacity of a highwayman, and his daring, and the fame of his exploits, in the course of the ensuing two years gained him so much celebrity among others of the same character, that at twenty-one he was chosen "captain" of a select band of "gentlemen" who "followed the road."

His depredations for several years were confined to his native county, and there his improvident liberality secured him the esteem and blessings of the lower orders, while the terror of his name and the dread of his vengeance kept those of a higher rank in complete subjection to his authority.

Like Rob Roy, he levied an annual tax on the farmers, which they cheerfully paid, as it secured them from the nocturnal visits of his followers; and the Captain was so rigid a disciplinarian, that any dereliction of duty in this respect was punished with a heavy hand. His exploits soon became too notorious, however, to pass unnoticed by the authorities, and large rewards were offered for his apprehension; but, although he was as well known as the "Hill of Howth," he was to be seen at every fair and pattern in the country, and had a more numerous acquaintance than the village doctor. At every farmer's table he was welcome, and the cottages that gave him shelter were sure of reward; for he freely shared the contributions he obtained with danger.

With the ladies he was a second Macheath, and more wives than one claimed him for their husband; and it is reported that he was frequently complimented on his person and manner, by the mistresses of those houses which he visited without the formality of an invitation. But it must be observed that he never forgot his accustomed humanity and politeness; and, unless when attacked by the police, he never did an individual a personal injury. His behaviour always evinced a degree of refinement above his education and birth; and even those who suffered from his depredations never spoke of him but as an "accomplished villain."

His character at length grew so notorious in the Queen's County, that a consultation of magistrates was held for the purpose of devising means for his apprehension, and in consequence of the measures they adopted several of Grant's followers were brought to justice, and died, as their Captain expressed it, of the "gallows fever." For some time his knowledge of the country, and the partiality of the peasantry towards him, aided him in evading the pursuit which was made after him; but a traitor was found, and Grant was delivered into the hands of the Philistines.

The gentry of the country, and ladies of the first rank, crowded to the jail of Maryborough to see the "bold outlaw;" and it was supposed that their impertinent curiosity so much affected his sensibility, that he took his departure one night from prison, through a window, having first contrived to cut the bars that guarded it.

Dreading another specimen of the rudeness of the Irish aristocracy, he prudently resolved to leave the Slieve-bloom mountains, and with the remnant of his banditti, he removed to the wood of Killoughram, in the county of Wexford, within four miles of the town of Enniscorthy. Here he continued for some time, and made frequent visits to the neighbouring towns, where he was known by the name of Cooney.

In the March of 1816 he made a journey to his native county, where he robbed the house of Thomas Cambie, Esq., of money and plate to a large amount. Mrs. Cambie was at home, and he behaved with so much politeness, that she ordered him supper and wine. The captain being impatient of delay, applied his teeth to extract a cork from a bottle; upon which the mistress observed "it was a pity to spoil his fine white teeth," and immediately stood up and procured him a corkscrew. Grant, on his departure, took the liberty of borrowing Mr. Cambie's horse and gig, in which he rode to his retreat in the wood of Killoughram.

The Captain's occasional depredations in the county of Wexford excited great alarm, for a robbery there then was a thing of very rare occurrence. Notice was at length given of the banditti retreat, and Archibald Jacob marched the military out of Enniscorthy and surrounded the wood. Some of the soldiers and yeomanry penetrated the fastness, and in the thickest part of the shade they discovered the "Robber Chief," and five of his followers, on a bed of straw, in a romantic cave. The freebooters defended themselves with desperate valour, and before they surrendered, wounded five of the military. After they were secured, their retreat was found to contain all the necessary implements for housebreaking, and abundance of arms. The captain was committed to Wexford jail in the name of Cooney; but the evidence against him being doubtful, it was apprehended that he would be acquitted, when, unfortunately for him, it was discovered that he was the celebrated Captain Grant. The jailor of Maryborough now claimed his body, and he was forthwith transmitted to his former abode, only just in time, as it was eventually found out, to prevent his again escaping from the jail in which he was confined, in obedience to and in conformity with a plan which had been matured, and which was to be put into operation on the very night on which he was removed.

His trial came on at Maryborough, August the 16th 1816, when he was found guilty of the burglary in Mr. Cambie's house. To the question "What reason he had why judgment and sentence of death should not be passed on him?" he replied in the most firm, collected, and, indeed, feeling manner, "My lord, I only beg of the Court some short time to arrange things before my departure for another place; not in the idle hope of escape or pardon, but to make restitution to the persons who have suffered by my bad line of life. I have been visited in my cell by some blessed people, who have, thank God, given this turn to my mind, and to which I implore your lordship's attention."

Sentence was then immediately passed upon him; but in obedience to his request, his execution was deferred until the 29th of August, when he met his fate with decent fortitude and pious resignation.

THOMAS CARSON.

CONVICTED OF MURDER.

The Irish are capital actors, but generally give to tragic parts a comic effect. The following case of successful adroitness is only one out of many such tricks played off in the prisons of the sister kingdom.

Thomas Carson and his brother John were tried at the Meath assizes, in the spring of 1816, for the wilful murder of a man named Cassidy. The Carsons belonged to a corps of yeomen; and being Protestants, they were privileged to carry arms. Of these, however, they made a bad use, and turned them against one of his Majesty's subjects, named Cassidy, whose life they took away, through wanton cruelty, in Kilmainham Wood, in the county of Meath. John was acquitted; but Thomas Carson was found guilty, and ordered for execution on the following Friday morning, at one o'clock.

At five o'clock on Friday morning a brother of the prisoner went to see the unhappy culprit, and informed the jailor that Mr. Wainwright, the clergyman, would attend in a short time to pray with and administer the sacrament to his brother. The judge had, from humanity, directed that his relations should have free access to the prisoner, so that his brother was permitted to go into the condemned cell to him. Some time after the jailor entered the cell, and said that the time was very short, and if the clergyman was expected, they had better send for him. The brother offered to go for him, and apparently retired. Shortly after Mr. Wainwright came; and being shown into the cell, continued a long time in prayer with the prisoner. The time of execution approaching, the jailor came in, accompanied by the prisoner's uncle. The clergyman told the prisoner he had no time to lose--that his uncle had come, and would communicate with him in the administration of the sacrament. The prisoner entreated to be allowed to pray a little longer, and appeared absorbed in devotion. At length the jailor becoming quite impatient, he rose from the straw on which he was kneeling, and welcomed his uncle. The latter instantly exclaimed, "Good God! how grief has altered him! this cannot be Tommy!" and looking nearer--"No," said he, "this is Anthony Carson!" The clergyman was amazed--the jailor ran down stairs, and discovered that the person whom he had sent for the clergyman was no other than the convict himself, who had not thought proper to return.

Coming back into his cell, the jailor cried out, "Your brother is gone off! what shall I do? I am ruined!"--"Gone off!" cried Anthony with great surprise; "Oh, he has taken away my big coat."

The two brothers served in the same corps, and were so alike in appearance that Anthony came to the prison in a frize great-coat, which he gave to the convict, who, thus disguised, passed all the doors of the prison, and walked deliberately into the street, from whence, in great apparent affliction, he looked up at the preparation for execution, and passed on as if to Mr. Wainwright's house.

Diligent search was made for the fugitive, but without effect. The brother was detained, but the extent of his crime was a misdemeanour.

The case of this lucky prisoner clearly exemplified, in the language of the prisoner about to receive judgment of death, that he did not believe he was "safe in the hands" of his jailors.

The story runs thus:--An Irishman had been convicted of a robbery at the Old Bailey sessions, for which he was brought up, with others at the conclusion of the session, to receive judgment of death. The ready wit and the natural disinclination of the Irish to give a straightforward answer to a question, are universally known and admitted. The prisoner in question on being called on by Mr. Shelton, the officer of the court, in the usual way, to declare what he had to say why sentence of death should not be passed upon him, advanced to the front of the dock with a vacant stare, and inquired "What was the question?"

Mr. Shelton.--You have been convicted of robbery; what have you to say why sentence of death shall not be passed upon you, according to law?

Prisoner.--Faith, I have nothing much to say, except that I do not think I am safe in your hands.

The answer was received with a loud burst of laughter, which even the melancholy nature of the scene could not prevent the learned recorder from joining in. The gravity of the court was, however, soon again put to the test. Sentence had been passed, and the prisoner was about to retire from the bar, when he was unexpectedly called back by Mr. Shelton, who demanded to know his age.

Prisoner.--Is it my age you mean?

Mr. Shelton.--What is your age?

Prisoner.--I believe I am pretty well as ould as ever I'll be.

Again the whole court was convulsed with laughter; but the wretched man, whose laughter-moving qualities were purely involuntary, was doomed even at "the last scene of all," to raise the mirth of the spectators of his fate. He was in due form taken from his cell, and the ordinary of the jail attending him, he was conducted to the press-room to be bound, preparatory to his going out to the scaffold. His irons were removed, and his arms confined with cords in the customary manner, but the willing compliance exhibited by the wretched convict in the proceedings which had hitherto taken place, to assist the executioner in performing his office, suddenly ceased. He sat down on a bench, and in spite of the calls of Jack Ketch, and of the sheriffs to accompany them in procession to the scaffold, he remained sullenly on the bench, where he had first taken up his position. "Come," at last urged Jack Ketch, "the time is arrived;" but his coaxing words and tone were unavailing. "The officers are waiting for you," said the sheriffs; "can anything be done for you before you quit this world?" No answer was returned. At length, said Jack Ketch, grown surly at the long delay and the silence of the prisoner, "If you won't go, you know I must carry you." "Then you may," said the prisoner, "for I'll not walk." "Why not?" inquired the sheriff. "I'll not be instrumental to my own death," hesitated the prisoner. "What do you mean?" asked the ordinary. "What do I mane?" answered the unfortunate man. "I'll not walk to my own destruction;" and in this determination he remained, and Jack Ketch and his assistants were eventually absolutely compelled to carry him to the scaffold, where he was turned off, continuing in his refusal to do anything which might be construed into "his being a party to his own death."

END OF VOL. I.

PRINTED BY J. S. VIRTUE AND CO., LIMITED, CITY ROAD, LONDON.

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FOOTNOTES:

[1] Different countries have different modes of inflicting capital punishments. Beheading was military punishment among the Romans, known by the name of decollatio. Among them the head was laid on a cippus, or block, placed in a pit dug for the purpose; in the army, without the vallum; in the city, without the walls, at a place near the porta decumana. Preparatory to the stroke, the criminal was tied to a stake, and whipped with rods. In the early ages the blow was given with an axe; but in after-times with a sword, which was thought the more reputable manner of dying. The execution was but clumsily performed in the first times; but afterwards they grew more expert, and took the head off clean, with one circular stroke.

In England, beheading is the punishment of nobles; being reputed not to derogate from nobility, as hanging does. In France, during the revolutionary government, the practice of beheading by means of an instrument called a guillotine (so denominated from the name of its inventor) was exceedingly general. It resembles a kind of instrument long since used for the same purpose in Scotland, and called a maiden.

It is universally known, that, at the execution of King Charles the First, a man in a vizor performed the office of executioner. This circumstance has given rise to a variety of conjectures and accounts; in some of which, one William Walker is said to be the executioner; in others, it is supposed to be a Richard Brandon, of whom a long account was published in an Exeter newspaper of 1784. But William Lilly, in his "History of his Life and Times," has the following remarkable passage. "Many have curiously inquired who it was that cut off his (the king's) head: I have no permission to speak of such things; only this much I say, he that did it, is as valiant and resolute a man as lives, and one of a competent fortune." When examined before the parliament of Charles II., he states, "That the next Sunday but one after Charles the First was beheaded, Robert Spavin, secretary to Lieutenant-General Cromwell at that time, invited himself to dine with me, and brought Anthony Pierson and several others along with him to dinner. That their principal discourse all dinner time was only who it was that beheaded the king. One said it was the common hangman; another, Hugh Peters; others also were nominated, but none concluded. Robert Spavin, so soon as dinner was done, took me by the hand and carried me to the south window: saith he, 'These are all mistaken; they have not named the man that did the fact; it was Lieut. Colonel Joice. I was in the room when he fitted himself for the work; stood behind him when he did it; when done, went in with him again. There is no man knows this but my master, (viz. Cromwell,) Commissary Ireton, and myself.'--'Doth not Mr. Rushworth know it?' saith I.--'No, he doth not know it,' saith Spavin. The same thing Spavin hath often related to me when we were alone."

The following description of the Maiden, by Mr. Pennant, may not prove uninteresting:--"This machine of death is now destroyed; but I saw one of the same kind in a room under the Parliament-house in Edinburgh, where it was introduced by the Regent Morton, who took a model of it as he passed through Halifax, and at length suffered by it himself. It is in form of a painter's easel, and about ten feet high; at four feet from the bottom is the cross bar on which the felon lays his head, which is kept down by another placed above. In the inner edges of the frame are grooves; in these is placed a sharp axe, with a vast weight of lead, supported at the very summit with a peg: to that peg is fastened a cord, which the executioner cutting, the axe falls, and does the affair effectually, without suffering the unhappy criminal to undergo a repetition of strokes, as has been the case in the common method. I must add, that if the sufferer is condemned for stealing a horse or cow, the string is tied to the beast, which, on being whipped, pulls out the peg, and becomes the executioner."

[2] This celebrated painter, whilst decorating the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral, nearly fell a victim to his zeal in that undertaking. One day, when pursuing his task on the scaffold erected round the dome for that purpose, he kept walking backwards, surveying the effect of his work, until he had nearly approached the edge, from which another step would have precipitated him. At this instant his servant, who perceived the danger his master was in, with a wonderful presence of mind seized a pot of colour, and threw it over the painting. This caused Sir James to rush forward for the preservation of his work, and he was thus saved from being dashed to pieces, which, but for this timely intervention, must have been his fate. This eminent man painted the whole of the cupola of St. Paul's, and also the halls of Greenwich Hospital and Blenheim. He was born in 1675, and was originally a house-painter, but afterwards applied himself to historical subjects, and equalled the best painters of his time. In 1719 he was appointed Historical Painter to George I., and shortly afterwards was created a knight. He was employed in several extensive works, for which he was in general very inadequately paid; and, at times, even found it difficult to obtain the stipulated price. His demands were contested at Greenwich Hospital, although he only received 25s. a square yard; about the same time a foreigner, for doing less work at Montague House, received 2000_l._ for his work, besides 600_l._ for his diet. For St. Paul's he received 40_s._ a square yard. He also decorated More Park, but was obliged to sue Mr. Styles for it; he, however, not only recovered 3,500_l._ the sum agreed to be paid him, but 500_l._ more for decorations about the house. Notwithstanding these difficulties, he acquired a considerable fortune, and was several years in parliament; he was also a Fellow of the Royal Society. His genius was equally happy in history, allegory, landscape, and architecture; he even practised the last science as a man of business, and built several houses. He died in 1734, in the same place where he was born. He left a son, who followed his father's profession; and a daughter, who married the celebrated Hogarth.

[3] It may not be uninteresting to the reader to know that Murphy was executed on the 27th of March, 1728, for stealing plate.

[4] It was formerly customary to oblige persons suspected of murder to touch the murdered body, for the discovery of their guilt or innocence.

This way of finding murderers was practised in Denmark by King Christianus II., and permitted over all his kingdom; the occasion whereof was this:--Certain gentlemen being on an evening together in a stove, or tavern, fell out among themselves, and from words came to blows, (the candles being out,) insomuch that one of them was stabbed with a poniard. Now the murderer was unknown, by reason of the number, although the person stabbed accused pursuivant of the king's, who was one of the company.

The king, to find out the homicide, caused them all to come together in the stove, and, standing round the corpse, he commanded that they should, one after another, lay their right hand on the slain gentleman's naked breast, swearing that they had not killed him. The gentlemen did so, and no sign appeared against them; the pursuivant only remained, who, condemned before in his own conscience, went, first of all, and kissed the dead man's feet; but, as soon as he had laid his hand upon his breast, the blood gushed forth in abundance, both out of his wound and his nostrils; so that, urged by this evident accusation, he confessed the murder, and was, by the king's own sentence, immediately beheaded. Such was the origin of this practice, which was so common in many of the countries in Europe, for finding out unknown murderers.

[5] Until the thirtieth year of the reign of King George III. this punishment was inflicted on women convicted of murdering their husbands, which crime was denominated petit-treason. It has frequently, from some accident happening in strangling the malefactor, produced the horrid effects above related. In the reign of Mary (the cruel) this death was commonly practised upon the objects of her vengeance; and many bishops, rather than deny their religious opinions, were burnt even without previous strangulation. It was high time this part of the sentence the type of barbarism, should be dispensed with. The punishment now inflicted for this most unnatural and abhorred crime is hanging.

[6] It has been a very ancient practice, on the night preceding the execution of condemned criminals, for the bellman of the parish of St. Sepulchre to go under Newgate, and, ringing his bell, to repeat the following verses, as a piece of friendly advice, to the unhappy wretches under sentence of death:--

All you that in the condemn'd hole do lie, Prepare you, for to-morrow you shall die. Watch all, and pray, the hour is drawing near, That you before the Almighty must appear; Examine well yourselves, in time repent, That you may not t' eternal flames be sent, And when St. Sepulchre's bell to-morrow tolls, The Lord above have mercy on your souls! Past twelve o'clock!

The following extract from Stow's Survey of London, page 125 of the quarto edition, printed in 1618, will prove that the above verses ought to be repeated by a clergyman, instead of a bellman:--"Robert Doue, citizen and merchant taylor, of London, gave to the parish church of St. Sepulchres the somme of 50_l._ That after the several sessions of London, when the prisoners remain in the gaole, as condemned men to death, expecting execution on the morrow following; the clarke (that is, the parson) of the church shoold come in the night time, and likewise early in the morning, to the window of the prison where they lye, and there ringing certain toles with a hand-bell, appointed for the purpose, he doth afterwards (in most Christian manner) put them in mind of their present condition, and ensuing execution, desiring them to be prepared therefore as they ought to be. When they are in the cart and brought before the wall of the church, there he standeth ready with the same bell, and after certain toles rehearseth an appointed praier, desiring all the people there present to pray for them. The beadle also of Merchant Taylors' Hall hath an honest stipend allowed to see that this is duely done."

[7] In Mr. Ainsworth's Romance of "Rookwood," Turpin is one of the most striking characters.

[8] The officers' half-pikes.

[9] "On Saturday last a Fleet parson was convicted before Sir Ric. Brocas of forty-three oaths, (on the information of a plyer for weddings there,) for which a warrant was granted to levy 4_l._ 6s. on the goods of the said parson; but, upon application to his Worship, he was pleased to remit 1s. per oath; upon which the plyer swore he would swear no more against any man upon the like occasion, finding he could get nothing by it."--Grub-Street Journal, 20 July, 1732.

[10] In a letter to George Montagu, Esq. dated July 17, 1753, Horace Walpole says:--

"Lady Anne Paulett's daughter is eloped with a country clergyman. The Duchess of Argyle harangues against the Marriage Bill not taking place immediately, and is persuaded that all the girls will go off before next Lady-day."

[11] In a letter to George Montagu, Esq. from Horace Walpole, is the following notice of Keith:--

"Strawberry Hill, 11th June 1753.

"I shall only tell you a bon mot of Keith's, the marriage-broker, and conclude:

"'G--d d--n the Bishops!' said he, (I beg Miss Montagu's pardon.) 'so they will hinder my marrying. Well, let 'em, but I'll be revenged: I'll buy two or three acres of ground, and by G--d I'll under-bury them all.'"

[12] The "Essay on Woman" was a parody on Pope's sublime work, called "An Essay on Man."

A learned divine, the Rev. Mr. Kidgell, thus writes on the works of Wilkes:--

"On the title-page is an obscene print, with a Greek inscription, signifying 'The Saviour of the world.' We shall, the poison of the publication being long eradicated, merely quote a commentator on the subject:

"In this work ('An Essay on Woman') the lewdest thoughts are expressed in terms of the greatest obscenity; the most horrid impurity is minutely represented; the sex is vilified and insulted; and the whole is scurrilous, impudent, and impious, to an incredible degree. In the variations and notes the inspired writings are perverted into the gross ideas of a libidinous blasphemer, with an invention new, wonderful, and horrid. The most solemn and important passages of the Gospel are tortured into the oblique obscenity of double meanings, worthy only of him who is at once the enemy of God and man."

[13] The paper entitled "The North Briton" was ordered to be burnt by the common executioner at the Royal Exchange. Mr. Alderman Harley, one of the sheriffs of London, attending in his official capacity to see this carried into execution, was assaulted and wounded by the mob. A man of the name of John Franklin was seized as one of the offenders, and committed to Newgate. On the day of the conviction of Wilkes he was tried for this outrage at the Old Bailey, and found guilty.

When the trial was ended, the worthy alderman addressed the Court in behalf of the prisoner. He said that, for his part, he had forgiven the affront offered to his own person; that justice required a prosecution: it had been, by the conviction of the offender, in part satisfied, and therefore he hoped the Court would mitigate his punishment. The Court complied with the prosecutor's humane request, and sentenced the prisoner to a short imprisonment, to pay a fine of six shillings and eight pence, and to find security for his good behaviour for one year.

[14] "It was done in the passage leading to the chapel, by order of Mr. Akerman, the keeper, to prevent his being gazed at; to whom he desired I would return his sincere thanks for all his civilities to him, even to the last."

[15] Dr. H. More's Continuation of Glanvil's Collection of Relations in proof of Witchcraft.

* * * * *

Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:

with what had occcured=> with what had occured {pg 36}

acertain the cause=> ascertain the cause {pg 72}

continuing the daugerous=> continuing the dangerous {pg 164}

indicted as accessaries=> indicted as accessories {pg 243}

he make a speech=> he made a speech {pg 295}

She answerered=> She answered {pg 304}

which was propoeed=> which was proposed {pg 391}

four oclock precisely=> four o'clock precisely {pg 402}

On Saturday, Septemer 17=> On Saturday, September 17 {pg 412}

here utterred an expression=> here uttered an expression {pg 435}

who, I I understand=> who, I understand {pg 440}

a full desciption of=> a full description of {pg 205}

and extraordinay manner=> and extraordinary manner {pg 507}

In the hopes of averting=> in the hopes of averting {pg 529}

unsconscious of the fate=> unconscious of the fate {pg 550}

as far as he was permited=> as far as he was permitted {pg 562}

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