Yet stand prepared the vast abyss to try,
And, undismay’d, expect eternity.”
THEODORE GARDELLE.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
THIS delinquent was a native of Geneva; and besides being a man of good general education, was somewhat celebrated in his native city as a painter on enamel. Unhappy in his domestic concerns, in the year 1760 he repaired to London, and took lodgings in the house of a Mrs. King, who lived in Leicester-fields, and who was the unfortunate subject of his crime.
The circumstances attending the murder were as follow:—On Thursday, 19th February 1761, the servant-girl got up at about seven o’clock in the morning, and being presently called by Gardelle, who occupied an upper apartment, was desired to go on some errands for him.
The girl took the messages, and went to her mistress, who was still in her bedroom, which was the back parlour, telling her what Gardelle had desired her to do; to which her mistress replied, “Nanny, you can’t go, for there’s nobody to answer at the street door.” The girl being willing to oblige Gardelle, answered “that Mr. Gardelle would come down, and sit in the parlour until she came back;” and she then went again to Gardelle, who, in obedience to her wish, proceeded into the front room on the ground floor.
The girl went out, taking the key of the street-door with her to let herself in again, Gardelle then having entered the room next to Mrs. King’s apartment.
Immediately after she was gone out, Mrs. King, hearing the tread of somebody in the parlour, called out, “Who is there?” and at the same time opened her chamber door, and saw Gardelle at a table very near the door, who had just then taken up a book that lay upon it. He had some time before drawn Mrs. King’s picture, which she wanted to have made very handsome, and had teased him so much about it, that the effect was just contrary; and it happened unfortunately, that the first thing she said to him, when she saw him walking about in the room, was something reproachful about this picture. Provoked at the insult, as he spoke English very imperfectly, for want of a better expression, he told her, with some warmth, “that she was an impertinent woman.”
The detail of the whole of the circumstances immediately attending this part of the transaction of necessity could not fall within the knowledge or observation of any witness, and it is therefore derived from a statement drawn up by Gardelle while in custody; but having stated the facts already mentioned, he says that this insult threw Mrs. King into a transport of rage, and she gave him a blow with her fist on the breast, so violent that he could not have thought it could have been given by a woman. As soon as the blow was struck she drew a little back; and at the same instant he laid his hand on her shoulder, and pushed her from him, rather in contempt than anger, or with a design to hurt her; but her foot happening to catch in the floor-cloth, she fell backwards, and her head came with great force against the corner of the bedstead. The blood immediately gushed from her mouth, not in a continued stream, but as if by different strokes of a pump, and he instantly ran to her, expressing his concern at the accident; but she pushed him away, and threatened, though in a feeble and interrupted voice, to punish him for what he had done. He was terrified at the thought of being condemned for a criminal act upon her accusation, and again attempted to assist her by raising her up, as the blood still flowed from her mouth in great quantities; but she exerted all her strength to keep him off, and still cried out, mixing threats with her screams. He then seized an ivory comb, with a sharp taper point continued from the back for adjusting the curls of her hair, which lay upon her toilet, and threatened her in his turn to prevent her crying out; but she still continuing to scream, though with a voice still fainter and fainter, he struck her with this instrument, probably in the throat, upon which the blood poured from her mouth in yet greater quantities, and her voice was quite stopped. He then drew the bed-clothes over her to prevent her blood from spreading on the floor, and to hide her from his sight; and he stood some time motionless by her, and then fell down by her side in a swoon. When he came to himself he perceived the maid was come in, and he therefore went out of the room without examining the body to see if the unhappy woman was quite dead; and his confusion was then so great that he staggered against the wainscot, and hit his head so as to raise a bump over his eye.
It appears that he subsequently sent the girl away, informing her that he had her mistress’s orders to dismiss her, and paid ten shillings for her wages; and the latter having been unable to find either her mistress or Gardelle on her first returning to the house, and knowing the former to be a woman of light character, concluded that they must have been in bed together, and that her mistress being ashamed to meet her, determined to get rid of her. Her suspicions were not at all raised therefore, and she went away, informing Gardelle that Mr. Wright, who lodged in the house, but had been out of town, would return that evening with his servant. On her departure, the first thing that Gardelle did was to go into the chamber to Mrs. King, whom, upon examination, he found quite dead. He therefore took off the blankets and sheets with which he had covered her, stripped off the shift, and laid the body quite naked upon the bed. Before this, he said, his linen was not stained; but it was much discoloured by his removing the body. He then took the two blankets, the sheets, the coverlet, and one of the curtains, and put them into the water-tub in the back wash-house to soak, they being all much stained with blood. Her shift he carried up stairs, and putting it into a bag, concealed it under his bed. His own shirt, now bloody, he pulled off, and locked it up in a drawer of his bureau.
When all this was done, he went and sat down in the parlour, and soon after, it being about nine o’clock, Mr. Wright’s servant, whose name was Pelsey, came in without his master, who had changed his mind, and was gone to a gentleman’s house in Castle-street. He went up into his room, the garret, and sat there till about eleven o’clock, when he came down, and finding Gardelle still in the parlour, he asked if Mrs. King was come home, and who must sit up for her? Gardelle said she was not come home, but that he would sit up for her. In the morning, Friday, when Pelsey came down stairs, he again asked if Mrs. King was come home, and Gardelle told him that she had been at home, but was gone again; and he subsequently said that she was gone to Bath or Bristol. The demeanour of Gardelle was soon observed by Pelsey to be much changed, and fancying that it was in consequence of the absence of Mrs. King, he went into the Haymarket, and procured a girl of unfortunate character named Walker to go and stay in the house with him. A Mrs. Pritchard was also engaged as charwoman, and still, no suspicions being entertained, all the parties continued to live in the house. On the Saturday morning, Gardelle first took steps to dispose of the body of the deceased woman, and no plan struck him as being so readily to be carried out as that of a gradual destruction of its members by fire. He accordingly proceeded to light a fire in the garret, whither he carried the bones, from which he had previously scraped the flesh, and burned them. All went on well until the Tuesday morning, when Pelsey, who was going up to his master’s room, smelt something offensive, and asked Gardelle, who was pushing up the sash of the window on the staircase, what it was? Gardelle replied, somebody had put a bone in the fire. At night Pelsey renewed his inquiries after Mrs. King, and Gardelle answered, with a seeming impatience, “Me know not of Mrs. King; she give me a great deal of trouble, but me shall hear of her on Wednesday or Thursday.”
On Tuesday night he told Walker he would sit up till Mrs. King came home, though he had before told her she was out of town, and desired her to go to bed; and as soon as she was gone, he renewed his horrid employment of cutting the body to pieces, and disposing of it in different places. The bowels he threw down the necessary; and the flesh of the body and limbs, cut to pieces, he scattered about in the cock-loft, where he supposed they would dry and perish without putrefaction.
Wednesday passed like the preceding days; and on Thursday he told his female companion that he expected Mrs. King home in the evening, and therefore desired that she would provide herself a lodging, giving her at the same time two of Mrs. King’s shifts; and being thus dismissed, she went away.
Pritchard, the charwoman, still continued in her office, and through her means the murder was discovered. The water having failed in the cistern on the Tuesday, she had recourse to that in the water-tub in the back kitchen. Upon pulling out the spigot a little water ran out; but, as there appeared to be more in, she got upon a ledge, and putting her hand in, she felt something soft. She then fetched a poker, and pressing down the contents of the tub, she got water in a pail. She informed Pelsey of the circumstance, and they agreed the first opportunity to see what the things in the water-tub were; yet so languid was their curiosity, and so careless were they of the event, that it was Thursday before the tub was examined. They found in it the blankets, sheets, and coverlet, that Gardelle had put in to soak; and after spreading, shaking, and looking at them, they put them again into the tub; and the next morning, when Pelsey came down, he saw the curtain hanging on the banisters of the kitchen stairs. Upon looking down, he saw Gardelle just come out at the wash-house door, where the tub stood. When Pritchard the charwoman came, he asked her if she had been taking the curtain out of the tub, and she said “No.” She then went and looked in the tub, and found the sheets had been wrung out. Upon this the first step was taken towards inquiring after the unhappy woman, who had now lain dead more than a week in the house. Pelsey found out the maid whom Gardelle had dismissed, and suspicions being excited that Mrs. King had been unfairly dealt with, the aid of the police was obtained. Gardelle was then apprehended, and his answers to the questions put to him being of a very equivocal nature, a search was made in the house, and the remains of the body being discovered, disposed of as we have already mentioned, as well as the linen of the deceased, and of the prisoner, stained with blood, his guilt was considered to be fully established, and he was committed to Newgate for trial. While in that prison he made two attempts to destroy himself by taking laudanum, and by swallowing halfpence to the number of twelve; but although he was considerably injured by the latter attempt, he failed in securing his object. He afterwards showed strong marks of penitence and contrition, and behaved with great humility, openness, and courtesy, to those who visited him.
On Thursday, the 2d of April, he was tried at the Old Bailey; and, in his defence, he insisted only that he had no malice to the deceased, and that her death was the consequence of the fall. He was convicted, and sentenced to be executed on Saturday, the 4th of the same month. The account which he wrote in prison, and which is mentioned in this narrative, is dated the 28th of March, though he did not communicate it till after his trial. The night after his condemnation, his behaviour was extravagant and outrageous; but the next morning he was composed and quiet, and said he had slept three or four hours in the night. When he was asked why he did not make his escape, he answered that he feared some innocent person might then suffer in his stead.
He was executed April the 4th 1761, amidst the shouts and hisses of an indignant populace, in the Haymarket, near Panton-street, to which he was led by Mrs. King’s house, where the cart made a stop. His body was hung in chains upon Hounslow Heath.
JOHN M‘NAUGHTON, ESQ.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
JOHN M‘NAUGHTON, ESQ. was the son of a merchant at Derry, whose father had been an alderman of Dublin. He was educated at Trinity College, Dublin; and on his coming of age he entered into a landed estate of six hundred pounds a year, in the county of Tyrone, which was left him by Dr. M‘Naughton, his uncle. The first vice he fell into was that of gaming, by which he very soon did great injury to his fortune; and though he continued (as most novices do who play with sharpers) in a constant run of ill luck, and was soon obliged to mortgage his property, yet his losses made no visible alteration in his temper. Although he was of a most passionate disposition, his pride kept him within due bounds there. All was placid with the polite M‘Naughton; and he lost his money to the very last with that graceful composure that became the man who had a plentiful fortune to support it. But strong as his passion this way might be, it was not powerful enough to secure him against the attacks of love, and becoming attached to a young lady he very speedily married her. The reader may well suppose that the expenses of a wife and family in Dublin must soon increase his difficulties, and introduce a new scene of troubles; and it did so in a manner and with an effect which was most unhappy for Mr. M‘Naughton. It appears that a writ having been issued against him at the suit of one of his creditors, the sheriff’s officer obtained access to his house by a stratagem, on which he flew into a rage, and calling out for pistols, he frighted his poor listening wife to such a degree that premature labour followed, and she died in childbed.
The feelings of the unfortunate husband upon the occurrence of this melancholy event were most distressing, and he made repeated attempts upon his life; but a change of scene being recommended, he was conveyed to the country, where every attention was paid to his health, while his fortune also was nursed with equal care. On his return to the gaiety of the Irish metropolis, he soon resumed that worst of passions—gaming, and again became the dupe of others, while his property was once more seriously diminished. At this time he made secret advances to Miss Knox, the beautiful and accomplished daughter of Richard Knox, Esq. of Prohen in the county of Derry, who was possessed of a handsome fortune, and whose promise of marriage he obtained, in the event of her father’s consent being given. On that consent being requested, however, it was at once refused, on account of the youth of the young lady, whose age did not exceed sixteen years; and Mr. Knox was so resolute in his refusal, that he forbade the suitor for his daughter’s hand ever to enter the house again. Mr. M‘Naughton begged that this latter injunction might be withdrawn, urging that it would appear strange to the world that his friendship with a family, with which he had been so intimate, should be so suddenly broken off; and upon his promising upon his honour, that the subject of the marriage should not be again mentioned, and declaring that he had not previously spoken of it to the young lady herself, his visits were allowed to be repeated. In the mean time he continued his addresses to the young lady, and informed her that he had obtained the consent of her father, but that the marriage must be postponed for a year or two, when some material business would be settled, which was required to be decided first; and under this assurance she no longer withheld the confession that the passion of her admirer was returned, and appeared to delight most in the company of the man whom she looked upon as her future husband.
All her hopes were, however, soon doomed to be blasted. One day being in company with M‘Naughton and a little boy in a retired room in the house, he pressed her to marry him, protesting he never could be happy till he was sure of her; and with an air of sprightly raillery, pulling out a prayer-book, he began to read the marriage service, and insisted on the young lady making the responses, which she did; but to every one she always added, “provided her father consented.”
Some short time after this, Miss Knox going to a friend’s house on a week’s visit, Mr. M‘Naughton, being also an intimate there, soon followed her; and here he fixed his scene for action. After a day or two he claimed her, and, calling her his wife, insisted on consummation; but the young lady absolutely refused to comply, and leaving the house, went directly and informed her uncle of the whole affair. On this Mr. Knox wrote a letter to M‘Naughton, telling him what a base dishonourable villain he was, and bade him avoid his sight for ever; but upon the receipt of this letter M‘Naughton advertised his marriage in the public newspapers, cautioning every other man not to marry his lawful wife. This vile attack was answered by a very spirited and proper advertisement from the father, with an affidavit of the whole affair from the daughter annexed; and Mr. Knox having commenced a suit in the Prerogative Court, the marriage was declared invalid. Mr. M‘Naughton having absconded to avoid his debts, could not now appeal to the Court of Delegates, and the original decree was confirmed. Judge Scott in consequence issued his warrant for the apprehension of the defendant, who was liable to pay costs; and M‘Naughton, hearing of this, wrote a most impudent threatening letter to the judge, and, it is said, lay in wait to have him murdered, but missed him by the judge’s taking another road. Upon this the judge applied to the lord chief justice, who issued another writ against him, which drove him to England.
In the summer of 1761, Mr. M‘Naughton returned to Ireland, and by constantly hovering round Mr. Knox’s house, obliged the family to be upon their guard, and the young lady to live like a recluse.
About the middle of the summer, however, she ventured to a place called Swaddling Bar to drink the mineral waters there for her health; but even thither this unhappy man followed her, and he was seen in a beggar’s habit dogging her footsteps. Thus disguised he was detected; and when warned never to appear there again, he swore, in the presence of several, that he would murder the whole family if he did not get possession of his wife—a threat which he subsequently attempted to carry out. Notwithstanding his violence, it appears that he was permitted again to escape to London; and he remained there until the month of October in the same year. At the beginning of November he was again seen in Ireland; and having approached the residence of the Knoxes, he was known to sleep with three of his accomplices, at the house of a hearth-money collector, very nearly adjoining the abode of his intended victim. The 10th was the day fixed upon by him for the attack; and on that morning M‘Naughton, with his companions, went to a cabin on the road-side with a sack full of fire arms, in order to await the passing of Mr. Knox’s coach, in which it was known the family were about to proceed to Dublin. One of the men was despatched to ascertain the moment of the coming of the vehicle; and when it appeared in sight, having obtained the information requisite for its identification, he hurried back to desire the projector of the scheme to prepare. It appears that the only persons in the carriage were Mr. Knox and his wife, their daughter and a maid-servant; and they were attended only by one livery-servant, and a faithful fellow, a smith, who was foster-father to Miss Knox, and whom no bribe could ever purchase, although most of the other servants had been tampered with. As soon as the coach came near the cabin, two of the villains, armed with guns, presented themselves to the postilion and coachman, and stopped the horses, while M‘Naughton fired at the smith with a blunderbuss. The latter escaped being wounded, and presented his piece in return, but it unfortunately missed fire, and M‘Naughton and one of his companions seizing the opportunity, again fired, and both of them wounded him. Mr. Knox at this time drew up the blinds of the carriage, and M‘Naughton observing this, ran round to the other side, and firing in at the window obliquely, with a gun loaded with five balls, shot Miss Knox, all the balls taking effect in her body. The maid-servant now let down the window, screaming that her mistress was murdered; and the livery-servant on hearing this came from behind a peat-stack, where he had concealed himself for safety, and firing at M‘Naughton, wounded him in the back; and about the same time Mr. Knox from the coach discharged a pistol, which was the last of eight shots fired on this strange and dreadful occasion.
The murderer and his accomplices now immediately fled; and Miss Knox being carried into the cabin, died in about three hours. An attack so bold and so diabolical in its nature excited the greatest degree of interest; and large rewards were instantly offered for the apprehension of the perpetrator of the murder. For a considerable time all search proved fruitless; but at length a corporal of Sir James Caldwell’s company of Light Horse secured him under the following circumstances:—It appears that the corporal had received instructions to search the house and offices of one Wenslow, a farmer, and had examined every place without success, when he bethought himself of a stratagem, by which to obtain the requisite information of the murderer’s hiding-place. Observing a fellow digging potatoes in a piece of ground behind the stables, he remarked in his hearing that it was a great pity that M‘Naughton could not be found, for that the person who discovered his retreat would be sure of a reward of 300l. The bait took, and the peasant pointed to a barn, and thither the corporal and his assistants immediately proceeded. The door was fast, but they at length forced it open, and then they found the object of their search standing with a gun at his shoulder, apparently determined to resist all efforts made to secure him. On the appearance of the corporal he fired at him, but without wounding him; and a shot from the corporal’s gun striking him on the wrist, he was compelled to surrender.
He was immediately secured and carried to Lifford jail, where he remained in the closest confinement until the 8th December, 1761, when he was put upon his trial, with an accomplice named Dunlap before Mr. Baron Mountney and Mr. Justice Scott, on a special commission.
M‘Naughton, still suffering from the effects of the wounds which he had received, was brought into court on a bier, rolled in a blanket, and wearing the shirt in which he was taken, still smeared with blood. His beard had grown to an enormous length, and his head was wrapped in a greasy woollen night-cap. In that condition he made a long speech, pointedly and sensibly; and complained in the most pathetic manner of the hard usage he had met with since his confinement. He said “they had treated him like a man under sentence, and not like a man that was to be tried.” He declared, with tears in his eyes, that he never intended to kill his dear wife, but that he only designed to take her away.
The case lasted five days, a considerable portion of the first day being occupied in pleadings to postpone the trial, and the reply of the counsel for the crown. During these debates M‘Naughton often spoke with most amazing spirit and judgment; but the result was, that he was ordered to prepare his affidavit, which the Court would take into consideration. Accordingly, on the 9th, he was brought into Court again, and his affidavit read, in which he swore that some material witnesses for him were not to be had, particularly one Owens, who, he said, was present all the time; but the Court were of opinion that no sufficient reason for the application was shown, and the trial in consequence proceeded. During the whole proceedings M‘Naughton took his notes as regularly as any of the lawyers, and cross-examined all the witnesses with the greatest accuracy, and he was observed to behave with uncommon resolution.
His chief defence was founded on a letter he produced, as written to him by Miss Knox, in which she desired him to intercept her on the road to Dublin, and take her away; but this letter was proved a forgery of his own, which after condemnation he confessed. He took great pains to exculpate himself from the least design to murder any one, much less his dear wife (as he always called her); he declared solemnly that his intent was only to take her out of the coach, and carry her off; but as he received the first wound, from the first shot that was fired, the anguish of that wound, and the prospect of his ill success in his design, so distracted him that, being wholly involved in confusion and despair, he fired he knew not at what or whom, and had the misfortune to kill the only person in the world that was dear to him; that he gave the Court that trouble, and laboured thus, not to save his life,—for death was now his choice,—but to clear his character from such horrid guilt as that which was ascribed to him. The jury, however, found both prisoners guilty; and M‘Naughton received the intimation without any concern, declaring that “they had acquitted themselves with justice to the country.” Mr. Baron Mountney then pronounced upon both prisoners the awful sentence which the law directed; and although the Court were visibly affected by the manner in which this painful duty was performed, M‘Naughton remained unconcerned. He prayed the Court to have mercy upon Dunlap, alleging that he was his tenant, and had been compelled by him to participate with him in the transaction, under pain of losing a lease, which he hoped to be renewed; but he declared that life was not worth asking for himself, for that his wife being dead, the better half of himself was gone, and he had nothing to remain for in this world.
Tuesday the 15th December, 1761, was fixed upon for the execution of these criminals; but it appears that some difficulty was experienced in carrying the sentence into effect. For a long time no carpenter could be found to make the gallows, and the sheriff looked out for a tree proper for the purpose, and the execution must have been performed on it, had not the uncle of the young lady, and some other gentlemen, made the gallows, and put it up. The sheriff was afterwards obliged to take a party of soldiers, and force a smith to take off the prisoners’ bolts, otherwise he must have been obliged, contrary to law, to execute them with their bolts on. The time for the execution having arrived, M‘Naughton, attended by his fellow prisoner, walked to the place of execution, but, being weak of his wounds, was supported between two men. The former was dressed in a white flannel waistcoat trimmed with black buttons and holes, a diaper night-cap tied with a black riband, white stockings, mourning-buckles, and a crape tied on his arm. He desired the executioner to be speedy; and the fellow pointing to the ladder, he mounted with great spirit. The moment he was tied up he jumped from it with such vehemence as snapped the rope, and he fell to the ground, but without dislocating his neck, or doing himself much injury. When they had raised him on his legs again, he soon recovered his senses; and the executioner borrowing the rope from Dunlap, and fixing it round M‘Naughton’s neck, he went up the ladder a second time, and tying the rope himself to the gallows, he jumped from it again with the same force, and appeared dead in a minute.
The spectators, who saw him drop when the rope broke, looked upon it as some contrivance for his escape, which they favoured all they could by running away from the place, and leaving it open.
Dunlap was afterwards turned off in the usual manner, in sight of the dangling body of his accomplice and master.
JOHN SMITH AND ROBERT MAYNE.
EXECUTED FOR A MUTINY ON BOARD THE KING GEORGE.
ON the trial of these men, with five more of the crew, it appeared that disputes arose on board the King George, a fine privateer, of thirty-two guns and two hundred men, commanded by Captain Reed, and cruising against the enemies of the country, concerning some prize wine, which was stowed in the hold, some of the crew insisting on its being hoisted up to be used for the whole ship’s company. This would have been attended, in their situation, with both difficulty and danger, and was consequently opposed by Captain Reed and his officers; and being disappointed, a factious discontented set endeavoured to corrupt the remainder, and soon gained over so formidable a party, that they determined to seize the ship, and turn pirates in the Indian seas. In order to effect this, off Cape Ortugal, the mutineers demanded the keys of the arm-chests, and on the refusal of their request, they drove the captain and officers into the cabin.
They then placed a guard at the door, and brought a nine-pounder carriage-gun, loaded with round and grape shot, to fire among the officers; but were prevailed upon to desist by the entreaties of Mr. Gardener, the sailing master.
They then offered the latter the command of the ship, acquainting him with their intention of steering for the East Indies; but on his refusal they put him under a guard, and took the ship into their own care, until they had, for want of skill, nearly lost her. They then released Mr. Gardener, and gave him the helm; when he steered into Camarinas, in Spain, where most of the mutineers took to the boats, and made their escape.
Such as were apprehended were brought to trial; and though two more, viz. Thomas Baldwin and Laurence Tierman, were found guilty, yet Smith and Mayne, who were the ringleaders of the mutiny, only were hanged. They suffered at Execution Dock, May the 10th, 1762.
They were both Irishmen, and Roman Catholics, and were attended by a priest of that religion.
A few years after this affair a mutiny broke out among the crew of the Namur, of ninety guns. Fifteen were tried, found guilty, and ordered to be hanged; and they were taken for execution on board the Royal Ann, with halters round their necks. While waiting for the fatal gun being fired, however, they were told that his majesty had pardoned fourteen of them, but one of them must die; and they were ordered to cast lots.
How exquisite must have been the feelings of these miserable men at the awful moment of deciding on the fate of one! The fatal lot fell upon the second man that drew, Matthew M‘Can, who was soon run up to the yard-arm, where the body hung nearly an hour.
The pardoned seamen were turned over to the Grafton and the Sunderland, under sailing orders for the East Indies.
HANNAH DAGOE.
EXECUTED FOR ROBBERY.
THERE is so much eccentricity in the mode in which this unhappy wretch terminated her existence, that, although the circumstances of the robbery for which she was convicted are not of an interesting nature, we cannot forbear mentioning her case.
We have adduced many instances of hardness of heart, and contempt of the commandments of God, in men who have undergone the last sentence of the law; but we are of opinion that in this woman will be found a more relentless heart, in her last moments, than any criminal whom we have yet recorded.
Hannah Dagoe was born in Ireland, and was one of that numerous class of women who ply at Covent Garden market as basket-women. In the pursuit of her vocation, she became acquainted with a poor and industrious woman of the name of Eleanor Hussey, who lived by herself in a small apartment, in which was some creditable household furniture, the remains of the worldly goods of her deceased husband. Seizing an opportunity, when the owner was from home, this daring woman broke into Hussey’s room, and stripped it of every article which it contained.
For this burglary and robbery she was brought to trial at the Old Bailey, found guilty, and sentenced to death.
She was a strong masculine woman, the terror of her fellow prisoners, and actually stabbed one of the men who had given evidence against her; but the wound happened not to prove dangerous.
On the road to Tyburn she showed little concern at her miserable state, and paid no attention to the exhortations of the Romish priest who attended her. When the cart, in which she was bound, was drawn under the gallows, she got her hands and arms loose, seized the executioner, struggled with him, and gave him so violent a blow on the breast as nearly knocked him down. She dared him to hang her; and in order to revenge herself upon him, and cheat him of his dues, she took off her hat, cloak, and other parts of her dress, and disposed of them among the crowd. After much resistance he got the rope about her neck, which she had no sooner found accomplished, than, pulling out a handkerchief, she bound it round her head, over her face, and threw herself out of the cart, before the signal given, with such violence, that she broke her neck and died instantly.
This extraordinary and unprecedented scene occurred on the 4th May, 1763.
BARNEY CARROL AND WILLIAM KING.
EXECUTED FOR CUTTING AND MAIMING.
THESE men had served their country as soldiers, and it is remarkable that having in that capacity conducted themselves with great bravery, and earned for themselves well-merited rewards, they should afterwards have resorted to such atrocious means of procuring a livelihood, as from this case it will appear they adopted. Having returned to England from the Havannah, where their regiment had been stationed, they obtained their discharge, and determined to commence robbers on a plan of the most infamous cruelty. This consisted in their procuring two young thieves, named Byfield and Mathews, to go before them and to pick pockets; and in case of their being detected and seized, their villanous employers would run up, and by maiming the person holding the boys, generally by cutting him across the eyes, would procure their release. The offence for which they were executed, was committed on the 17th June, 1765; and it appears that a gentleman named Kirby was selected by the gang as a fit object for attack. Mr. Kirby, however, detected Byfield in picking his pocket, and before he could withdraw his hand, he seized him and threatened to carry him before the magistrates. His intention was not to pursue this threat, but in order to terrify the boy, he dragged him a considerable distance through the Strand, where the circumstance had occurred. Carrol soon came up to him, and demanded the boy’s release; but Byfield guessing that he would be permitted to escape, told him to keep off, for that the gentleman would let him go. The answer given by the ruffian was “Damn him, but I will cut him,” and instantly drawing his knife, he gave Mr. Kirby a severe cut over the face. A Mr. Carr at the moment came up to the assistance of Mr. Kirby, and seized Carrol’s arm, and at this instant Kirby, letting go the boy, struck at Carrol; but the blow happening to fall on Mr. Carr’s hand, the villain made his escape. The rogues then ran off towards St. Clement’s church, and escaped through an alley into Wych Street, though closely pursued by the gentleman.
Mr. Kirby now felt great pain, but had no idea that he had been wounded by any sharp instrument; but, putting his hand to his face, he found that it streamed with blood. Going to the Crown and Anchor Tavern in the Strand, Mr. Ingram, a surgeon of eminence, almost immediately attended him; and although the utmost expedition was used in calling in the assistance of that gentleman, Mr. Kirby had lost near two quarts of blood in the short interval.
On examination, it appeared that the wound was given in a transverse direction, from the right eye to the left temple; that two large vessels were divided by it; that there was a cut across the nose, which left the bone visible; and that the eye-balls must have been divided by the slightest deviation from the stroke.
The abominable assassins were very soon apprehended, and found guilty under the Coventry Act, and hanged at Tyburn, July 31, 1765, amid the execrations of an enraged multitude.
The “Coventry Act” is a statute of the 22d and 23d Charles II.; its provision in respect of this crime is to the following effect:—“If any person, on purpose, and by malice aforethought, and by laying in wait, shall unlawfully cut or disable the tongue, put out an eye, slit the nose, cut off a nose or lip, or cut off or disable any limb or member of any subject, with intention, in so doing, to maim or disfigure him, the person so offending, his counsellors, aiders, abettors (knowing of, and privy to, the offence), shall be guilty of felony, without benefit of clergy.” It is called the Coventry Act because it was passed on Sir John Coventry being assaulted, and having his nose slit in the street; and the following anecdote is related of the circumstances under which this outrage was committed.
In the committee of ways and means, in the House of Commons, it had been resolved that, towards the supply, every one that resorts to any of the playhouses, who sits in the boxes, shall pay one shilling; every one who sits in the pit shall pay sixpence; and every other person threepence. This resolution (to which the House disagreed upon the report) was opposed in the committee by the courtiers, who gave for a reason “That the players were the king’s servants, and a part of his pleasure.” To this Sir John Coventry, one of the members, by way of reply, asked “Whether the king’s pleasure lay among the men or among the women players?” This being reported at court, it was highly resented; and a resolution was privately taken to set a mark on Sir John, to prevent others from taking the like liberties.
December the 20th was the night that the House of Commons adjourned for the Christmas holidays. On the 25th, one of the Duke of Monmouth’s troop of life-guards and some few foot, lay in wait from ten at night till two in the morning, by Suffolk Street; and as Sir John returned from the tavern, where he supped, to his own house, they threw him down, and, with a knife, cut the end of his nose almost off; but company coming made them fearful to finish it.
The debates which this affair occasioned in the House of Commons ran very high, and one of the members emphatically called the attack on Coventry “A horrid un-English act.”
The result was that the statute in question was passed.
PETER M‘KINLIE, GEORGE GIDLEY, ANDREW ZEKERMAN, AND RICHARD ST. QUINTIN.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
THIS case exhibits a remarkable series of adventures which occurred to the unfortunate man, who, after having survived many engagements and imprisonments, was doomed to become one of the victims of a horrid and piratical scheme.
The unfortunate Captain Glass was the son of a minister of the Church of Scotland, who obtained some notice from his writings, in which he opposed the practice of religion according to particular forms, and was founder of a sect called Glassites. At an early period of his life, young Glass exhibited talents of no ordinary character; and having taken a degree of Master of Arts at one of the Scotch universities, he applied himself to the study of medicine. He made rapid progress in this new line of learning; and after he had taken the necessary degrees, was employed as a surgeon on board a trading vessel bound for the coast of Guinea, and in that capacity he afterwards made several voyages to America. His superior qualifications gained him a distinguished place in the esteem of several merchants, who entrusted to him the command of a vessel in the Guinea trade; and his conduct proved highly to the advantage of his owners, and equally honourable to himself.
When the war against France was declared, Captain Glass found himself in possession of a very considerable sum, a great part of which he determined to venture on board a privateer; and he, in consequence, caused a vessel to be fitted out with all possible expedition, and took the command on himself.
In about ten days after they had commenced this voyage, they made prize of a ship, richly laden, belonging to France, which they carried into a port in the West Indies; but soon afterwards, being obliged to engage two vessels of war, after an obstinate contest they were compelled to submit to the superior power of the enemy and strike, but not until Captain Glass had been severely wounded and most of his men slain. The captain being conveyed to France, was there consigned to a prison; but an interchange of prisoners taking place, he once more trod on British ground.
Nothing daunted by the unsuccessful termination of his first venture, he tried a second expedition of a similar character, in which he was equally unfortunate, and was once again consigned to the keeping of a French jailor, in whose custody he remained until the termination of the war. He next conceived a design of sailing in search of discoveries; and in pursuance of this plan he purchased a vessel adapted to his purpose; and having carefully made every necessary preparation for the prosecution of his object, he directed his course towards the coast of Africa. Between the river Senegal and Cape de Verd he discovered a commodious harbour, from which he entertained the reasonable expectation that very great commercial advantages might be derived; and he returned to England, and communicated his discovery to government, who granted him an exclusive trade to the harbour for the space of twenty years.
That he might be able to pursue his project with the greater advantage, he now engaged in partnership with two or three gentlemen of fortune; and a vessel furnished with all necessary articles being again prepared, he sailed for the newly discovered harbour, and arrived at it in safety. He soon found, however, that the habits of the natives would not permit any friendly intercourse to be maintained between them; and being in great distress for provisions, the captain and three men proceeded in an open boat to the Canary Isles. During their absence the natives made an attack upon the vessel, but were repulsed; and the first mate, who had been left in command of her, thought fit to sheer off, and having in vain sought his captain, at length returned to England. Glass and his companions meanwhile had arrived at one of the Canary islands, and having landed, with a view of petitioning to be allowed to purchase provisions, was instantly seized by order of the governor, and conveyed to a dungeon as a spy. In this situation he remained for six months; but at length he made one of his countrymen, a sailor, acquainted with his condition by writing his name and the nature of his miseries on a biscuit with a piece of charcoal, and throwing it to him through his prison window when he was passing beneath. The sailor immediately conveyed it to his commander; but the latter on making application for his release was himself seized and subjected to treatment of similar severity. The news of this circumstance was, however, directly carried to England by a vessel, which was on the point of sailing; and speedy complaint being made to the Spanish government, the liberty of the two captains was soon obtained. At about this time the wife and daughter of Captain Glass had arrived at the Canaries, in consequence of the reports which had reached them of his captivity, and the first joy of again meeting being passed, they all embarked on board a ship bound for London, commanded by a Captain Cockeran. Miss Glass at this time was a young lady about twelve years of age, and ill deserving the fate which awaited her, as well as her parents. It appears that while the ship lay at the Canaries, a plot was concerted between Peter M‘Kinlie, the boatswain, a native of Ireland; George Gidley the cook, born in the west of Yorkshire; Richard St. Quintin, a native of the same county; and Andrew Zekerman a Dutchman—for murdering all the other persons on board, and seizing the treasure, which, including what Captain Glass had shipped in behalf of himself and his partners, amounted to a hundred thousand pounds in dollars. The villains made three attempts on different nights to carry their horrid plan into execution, but were prevented through the circumspection of their commander.
At length, however, the conspirators were appointed to the night-watch on the 13th of November, when the ship had reached the British Channel; and about midnight the captain going upon the quarter-deck to see that all things were disposed in proper order, upon his return he was seized by the boatswain, who held him while Gidley struck him with an iron bar, and fractured his skull. Two of the seamen who were not concerned in the conspiracy, hearing the captain’s groans, came upon deck, and were immediately murdered, and, with their captain, were thrown overboard.
Captain Glass, being alarmed, went up the gangway, and judging that a mutiny had arisen, returned to fetch his sword. M‘Kinlie, guessing his design, followed him down the steps leading to the cabin, and waited in the dark till he returned with a drawn sword in his hand, when getting unperceived behind him, he seized both his arms, and then called to his accomplices to murder him. Captain Glass, being a very powerful man, had nearly disengaged himself from the ruffian, when Zekerman came up and attacked him. The captain wounded him in the arm; but before he could recover his sword he was overpowered, and the other villains soon joined their associates. The unhappy man was no sooner disarmed than he was many times run through the body, and he was then immediately thrown overboard. Mrs. Glass and her daughter, terrified by the outcry, now came on deck, and falling on their knees, supplicated for mercy; but they found the villains utterly destitute of the tender feelings of humanity; and Zekerman telling them to prepare for death, they embraced each other in a most affectionate manner, and were then forced from each other’s arms, and thrown into the sea.
Having now put all the crew to death, excepting a boy who attended Captain Glass, and another boy who was an apprentice on board the ship, the murderers steered towards the Irish coast, and on the 3rd of December found themselves within ten leagues of the harbour of Ross. They then hoisted out the long-boat, and put into it dollars to the amount of two tons; and after knocking out the windows of the ballast ports, rowed towards shore, leaving the two boys to sink with the vessel. Captain Glass’s boy could not swim, and he was therefore soon drowned; but the other lad swam to the boat, when Zekerman struck him a violent blow on the breast, which caused him immediately to sink.
Having thus massacred eight innocent persons, the villains proceeded to the mouth of the river Ross; but thinking it would be dangerous to go up the river with so much riches, they buried two hundred and fifty bags of dollars in the sand, and conveyed as much treasure as they could possibly bear about their persons to a village called Fishertown, where they stopped for refreshment. On the following day they went to Ross, and there sold twelve hundred dollars; and, having purchased each a pair of pistols, and hired horses for themselves and two guides, they rode to Dublin, and took up their residence at the Black Bull in Thomas-street.
The wreck of the ship was driven on shore on the day of their leaving Ross; and the manner in which the villains had lived at Fishertown and Ross, their general behaviour, and other circumstances, being understood as grounds for suspicion of their being pirates, an express was despatched by two gentlemen to the lords of the regency at Dublin, exhibiting the several causes of suspicion, and giving a particular description of the supposed delinquents.
On examining the wreck a sampler worked by Miss Glass was found, from which it appeared that a part of the work was done on her birthday, which afterwards turned out to be the day preceding that on which the murders were perpetrated; and the sampler proved a principal means of leading to a discovery of the guilt of these abominable villains.
The gentlemen who were commissioned to attend the lords of the regency had no sooner communicated their business than the lord mayor and sheriffs were sent for; and proper instructions being given them, they on the same night caused M‘Kinlie and Zekerman to be taken into custody. The prisoners were separately examined; and they both confessed the particulars of their guilt, and that their accomplices had that morning hired a post-chaise for Cork, where they meant to embark on board a vessel bound for England. Gidley and St. Quintin were then on the next day secured at an inn on the road to Cork; and they followed the example of the other prisoners in acknowledging themselves guilty. The sheriff of Ross took possession of the effects found in the wreck, and the bags of dollars that the villains had buried in the sand, and deposited the whole in the treasury of Dublin for the benefit of the proprietors.
The prisoners being brought to trial, they confessed themselves guilty of the charges alleged in the indictment; and they were condemned, and suffered death on the 19th of December, 1765, after which their bodies were hung in chains in the neighbourhood of Dublin.
FATHER SHEEBY,
JAMES BUXTON, AND JAMES FARRELL, OTHERWISE CALLED BUCK
FARRELL.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
ABOUT the year 1766 Ireland was first visited by an atrocious gang, calling themselves White Boys, who committed numerous atrocities in armed bodies, but whose deeds of blood at this time were only a prelude to those scenes of horror which have continued to be enacted even up to the present day. They were encouraged, it was reported, by a number of disaffected Roman Catholic priests, who seduced various misguided men of property of their persuasion to connive at and assist them in their nefarious practices.
In the present instance, Father Sheeby, a Romish priest, persuaded Mr. Buxton, a gentleman of great property, and Mr. Farrell, a gay, thoughtless youth, of good family, and many others, to murder several Protestants who opposed the depredations of the White Boys. On the 28th of October, 1764, this gang of murderers met on the lands of Shanhally, where they were sworn by Father Sheeby to murder J. Bridge, Esq., J. Bagnall, Esq., the Rev. Dr. Hewitson; and in fine, every person who might oppose them. He also swore them to be true to the French king, and to assist him to conquer Ireland, whereby they might completely establish the Roman Catholic Religion. Thus prepared, these enthusiasts sallied out in pursuit of the blood of their fellow-creatures. They soon seized Mr. Bridge, accused him of giving information against the White Boys, and insisted that he should contradict upon oath all that he had said in his information; and on his refusing to do so, Edward Mecham, one of the gang (whom, however, we do not find brought to punishment), cleft his skull in two with a bill-hook, and he instantly expired in the presence of the remainder of the gang.
The persons whose names are mentioned above, having been apprehended on suspicion of being concerned in this cruel murder, were tried at Clonmel, and being found guilty, were executed in 1766.
WILLIAM GUEST.
EXECUTED FOR DIMINISHING THE COIN OF THE REALM.
GUEST was the son of a clergyman of unblemished character, of the city of Worcester, who placed him apprentice to a genteel business. He passed the term of apprenticeship to the satisfaction of his master, and then came to London, and took a shop in Holborn, where he carried on business some years with the usual success of trade. His father’s good name assisted him in procuring a clerkship in the Bank of England; and there he pursued a system of fraud which procured his execution for a crime amounting to high treason—that of diminishing the gold coin of the realm.
He took a house in Broad-street Buildings, in a room in the upper part of which he used to work. Having procured a curious machine for milling guineas, not unlike that made use of by mathematical instrument-makers, he used to take guineas from his drawer at the Bank, file them, and return them to the Bank, and take out guineas of full weight in their stead. Of the filings he made ingots, which he sold to an assayer, who, on his trial, deposed that they were of the same standard as our guineas.
About three years before his conviction he became a teller at the Bank, and Mr. Leach, who was also a teller there, observing him picking out new guineas from the old ones, and having some suspicion, watched him, to discover whether this was a frequent practice; and finding that it was, he communicated his suspicions to some others. On the 4th of July 1766, Mr. Guest paid thirty guineas to Richard Still, a servant to Mr. Corner, a dyer, at Bankside, Southwark; and Leach observing him take some gold out of a bag in the drawer, and put it among the rest on the table, went after Still, asked him if his money was right, and begged he would walk with him into the Pay-office, and let him tell it over. The man consented, and Leach found three guineas that appeared to have been newly filed, which he took away, giving Still other guineas for them. He then carried the light guineas into the hall, and showed them to Mr. Robert Bell, another teller, who carried them to Mr. Race, the principal cashier. The latter weighed them, and found that they wanted from ten pence to about fourteen pence of weight each; and he then, having examined the edges, delivered them to Leach.
It is a custom at the Bank for the cashier in waiting to take the tellers’ bags every night, and lock them up; and Mr. Race, after these suspicious circumstances had appeared against Guest, ordered his bags to be examined after they were taken away. This was done by Mr. Thompson, one of the under cashiers, and Kemp and Lucas, two in-door tellers, who found the whole sum they contained to be 1,800l. 16s. 6d.; and they found in one bag forty guineas, which appeared to have been filed on the edges, and each of which was found to be deficient in weight, from eight pence to fourteen pence.
In consequence of this disclosure, Mr. Sewallis and Mr. Humberton, servants to the Bank, went with proper officers to search Mr. Guest’s house in Broad-street Buildings, and in a room up two pair of stairs, they found a mahogany nest of drawers, which, being broken open, was discovered to contain a vice, files, an instrument proper for milling the edges of guineas, two bags of gold filings, and one hundred guineas. The nest of drawers had a flap before, to let down; and a skin was found lying at the bottom, fastened to the back part of the flap, with a hole in the front part, to fasten to a button on the waistcoat, in the manner used by jewellers.
Mr. Guest was then apprehended, and being brought to trial, was found guilty, and sentenced to be executed. He subsequently zealously applied himself to the only duty which remained for him in this life to perform—that of making his peace with God, and was hanged on the 14th of October, 1767.
ELIZABETH BROWNRIGG.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
THE case of this most notorious criminal is too well remembered to render any introduction to it necessary. The long scene of torture in which the inhuman wretch kept the innocent object of her remorseless cruelty ere she completed the long premeditated murder, requires no comment, engaging as it did the interest, and exciting the horror of all ranks of people, and rousing the indignation of the populace more than the case of any criminal whose offences it is our duty to record, in the whole course of our melancholy narratives.
The wretched subject of this memoir passed the early part of her life in the service of many respectable families in London; but at length, being addressed by James Brownrigg, a plumber at Greenwich, she consented to marry him; and they were accordingly united in that town. After having resided at Greenwich during about seven years, they determined to remove to London, and they, in consequence, rented a house in Flower-de-Luce (Fleur-de-Lys) Court, Fleet-street, where Brownrigg carried on his trade with so much success, that he was enabled to hire a small house at Islington as a summer retreat. Their means, however, declining as their family increased to the number of sixteen, Mrs. Brownrigg applied to the overseers of the parish of St. Dunstan to be employed in the capacity of midwife to the workhouse; and testimonials having been produced of her ability—for she had already practised midwifery to a considerable extent—she was duly appointed. Her services were found to give entire satisfaction to the parish-officers, and she now hit upon a new mode of adding to her income. She, in the year 1765, opened a house in which she advertised her readiness to receive women to lie-in privately; but finding that the expense of keeping servants would be very great, she applied to the officers of the precinct of Whitefriars and of the Foundling Hospital for girls to be apprenticed to her, to learn the duties of household servants. Two girls, named Mary Mitchell and Mary Jones, were immediately placed with her, the former from Whitefriars, and the latter from the Foundling Hospital; and it would appear, that at first the poor orphans were treated with some degree of consideration and attention, but as soon as they became familiar with their mistress and their situation, the slightest inattention was sufficient to call down upon them the most severe chastisement. The first girl who experienced this brutal treatment was Jones; and it appears that her mistress would frequently, upon the smallest possible provocation, lay her down across two chairs in the kitchen, and there whip her until she was compelled, from mere weariness, to desist. The usual termination of this scene of disgusting inhumanity was, that the mistress would throw water over her victim, or dip her head into a bucket of water, and then dismiss her to her own apartment. The room appointed for the girl to sleep in adjoined the passage leading to the street-door; and, after she had suffered this maltreatment for a considerable time, as she had received many wounds on her head, shoulders, and various parts of her body, she determined not to bear such usage any longer, if she could secure her liberty. Observing that the key was left in the street-door when the family went to bed, therefore, she opened it cautiously one morning, and escaped into the street. Thus freed from her horrid confinement, she repeatedly inquired her way to the Foundling Hospital until she found it, and was admitted after describing in what manner she had been treated, and showing the bruises she had received.
The child having been examined by a surgeon, (who found her wounds to be of a most alarming nature,) the governors of the hospital ordered Mr. Plumbtree, their solicitor, to write to James Brownrigg, threatening a prosecution, if he did not give a proper reason for the severities exercised toward the child; but no notice of this having been taken, the governors of the hospital thinking it imprudent to indict at common law, the girl was discharged, in consequence of an application to the chamberlain of London. The other girl, Mary Mitchell, continued with her mistress for the space of a year, during which she was treated with equal cruelty, and she also at length resolved to quit her service. An opportunity soon presented itself which favoured her design; but having escaped from the house, she was met in the street by the younger son of Brownrigg, who forced her to return home, where her sufferings were greatly aggravated on account of her elopement. In the interim Mrs. Brownrigg found it necessary to fill up the place occupied by her late apprentice, Mary Jones; and she applied again to the overseers of the precinct of Whitefriars, who, having learned nothing of the ill-behaviour of the woman, bound a girl named Mary Clifford to her, who was doomed to fall a victim to her brutality, and to be the cause of her eventual execution. It was not long before the new apprentice experienced equal if not greater cruelties than those inflicted upon the other unfortunate girls. She was frequently tied up naked and beaten with a hearth-broom, a horsewhip, or a cane, till she was absolutely speechless; and the poor girl having a natural infirmity, her mistress would not permit her to lie in a bed, but placed her on a mat in a coal-hole that was remarkably cold. After some time, however, a sack and a quantity of straw formed her bed, instead of the mat; but during her confinement in this wretched situation, she had nothing to subsist on but bread and water; and her covering, during the night, consisted only of her own clothes, so that she sometimes lay almost perished with cold.
On a particular occasion, when she was almost starving with hunger, she broke open a cupboard in search of food, but found it empty; and on another day, being parched with thirst, she tore down some boards in order to procure a draught of water. These acts of what were deemed daring atrocity by her inhuman mistress, immediately pointed her out as a proper mark for the most rigorous treatment; and, having been stripped to the skin, she was kept naked during the whole day, and repeatedly beaten with the but-end of a whip. In the course of this barbarous conduct Mrs. Brownrigg fastened a jack-chain round her neck so tight as almost to strangle her, and confined her by its means to the yard-door, in order to prevent her escape, in case of her mistress’ strength reviving, so as to enable her to renew the severities which she was inflicting on her; and a day having passed in the exercise of these most atrocious cruelties, the miserable girl was remanded to her cellar, her hands being tied behind her, and the chain being still round her neck, to be ready for a renewal of the cruelties on the following day. Determined then upon pursuing the wretched girl still further, Mrs. Brownrigg tied her hands together with a cord, and fixing a rope to her wrists, she drew her up to a water-pipe, which ran across the kitchen ceiling, and commenced a most unmerciful castigation, but the pipe giving way in the midst of it, she caused her husband to fix a hook in the beam, and then again hoisting up her miserable victim, she horsewhipped her until she was weary, the blood flowing at nearly every stroke. Nor was Mrs. Brownrigg the only tormentor of this wretched being, for her elder son having one day ordered her to put up a half-tester bedstead, her strength was so far gone that she was unable to obey him, on which he whipped her until she sunk insensible under the lash.
At length the unhappy girl, being unable any longer to bear these unheard-of cruelties, complained to a French lady who lodged in the house, and entreated her interference to procure some remission of the frightful barbarities which had been practised upon her. The good-natured foreigner appealed to Mrs. Brownrigg, showing to her the inhumanity of her behaviour; but the only effect produced was a volley of abuse levelled at the person who interposed, and an attempt, on the part of the monster, to cut out the tongue of her apprentice with a pair of scissors, in the course of which she wounded her in two places.
The close of this prolonged tragedy, however, now approached, when the disgusting barbarity of Mrs. Brownrigg, at which the heart recoils and sickens, was to be discovered and punished. In the month of July, the step-mother of Clifford, who had been living out of town, came to London for the purpose of inquiring after her daughter; and, learning from the parish-officers that she was in the service of Mrs. Brownrigg, she immediately proceeded to her house, and requested to be allowed to see her. She was, however, refused admittance by Mr. Brownrigg, who even threatened to carry her before the lord mayor if she came there to make further disturbances; and upon this she was going away, when Mrs. Deacon, wife of Mr. Deacon, baker, at the adjoining house, called her in, and informed her that she and her family had often heard moanings and groans issue from Brownrigg’s house, and that she suspected the apprentices were treated with unwarrantable severity.
The suspicions of the neighbourhood having thus been raised, every means was employed to procure the unravelment of the truth, and the proceedings of the guilty parties themselves obtained the discovery of all their wickedness.
At this juncture Mr. Brownrigg, going to Hampstead on business, bought a hog, which he sent home; and the animal being put into a covered yard, having a skylight, it was thought necessary to remove the window, in order to give to it air.
As soon as it was known that the sky-light was removed, Mr. Deacon ordered his servants to watch, in order, if possible, to discover the girls: accordingly one of the maids, looking from a window, saw one of them stooping down. She immediately called her mistress, who procured the attendance of some of the neighbours, and having all of them been witnesses to the shocking scene which presented itself, some men got upon the leads, and dropped bits of dirt, in order to induce the girl to speak to them; but she seemed wholly incapable. Mrs. Deacon then sent to Clifford’s mother-in-law, who immediately called upon Mr. Grundy, one of the overseers of St. Dunstan’s, and represented the case. Mr. Grundy and the rest of the overseers, with the women, went and demanded a sight of Mary Clifford; but Brownrigg, who had nicknamed her Nan, told them that he knew no such person; but, if they wanted to see Mary (meaning Mary Mitchell), they might, and she accordingly produced her. Upon this Mr. Deacon’s servant declared that Mary Mitchell was not the girl they wanted, and Mr. Grundy now sent for a constable to search the house. An examination took place, but, the girl being concealed, she was not found; and the officers, notwithstanding the threats of Brownrigg, took Mitchell away. On their arriving at the workhouse, she was found to be in a most wretched state. Her body was covered with ulcerated sores; and on her taking off her leathern boddice, it stuck so fast to her wounds that she shrieked with the pain; but, on being treated with great humanity, and told that she should not be sent back to Brownrigg’s, she gave an account of the cruelties which she had undergone, which she described as even more terrible than we have ventured to paint them. She also stated that she had met her fellow-apprentice on the stairs immediately before the parish officers entered the house, and added that Mrs. Brownrigg had concealed her, so that she should not be found. Upon this Mr. Grundy and the others went back to Brownrigg’s, and in spite of his threats of prosecution, proceeded to take him into custody. He then promised to produce the girl if he were allowed his liberty, and this being consented to, she was brought out of a cupboard, under a beaufet in the dining-room.
Words cannot adequately describe the condition of misery in which the unfortunate girl was found to be on her being examined. Medical assistance was immediately obtained, and she was pronounced to be in considerable danger; and Brownrigg was in consequence taken into custody, and conveyed to Wood-street Compter. His wife and son, alarmed at this proceeding, absconded, carrying with them some articles of value for their support; and Brownrigg subsequently being carried before Mr. Alderman Crossby, was fully committed for trial, upon the charge of having been guilty of violent assaults. The melancholy death of the girl Clifford, however, which took place in St. Bartholomew’s Hospital a few days afterwards, altered the complexion of the offence; and a Coroner’s Inquest having been summoned, a verdict of wilful murder was returned against the three Brownriggs, father, mother, and son.
The two latter, in the meantime, had shifted about from place to place in London, and had taken every means in their power to disguise themselves; but at length they removed to Wandsworth, determined to await there the result of the trial of their relation. It so happened, however, that they took lodging in the house of a Mr. Dunbar, a chandler, and that person having some suspicion of his guests, watched them narrowly; and seeing an advertisement which described their persons exactly, as being participators in the murder which had been committed, he caused their apprehension.
At the ensuing session at the Old Bailey the three prisoners were brought to trial; and, after an investigation of eleven hours’ duration, Mrs. Brownrigg was capitally convicted; but her husband and son were found not guilty of the offence imputed to them. Mrs. Brownrigg was immediately sentenced to undergo the extreme penalty of the law, while the participators in her guilt were detained for trial on the minor charge of misdemeanor, of which they were eventually convicted, and were sentenced to six months’ imprisonment.
After sentence had been pronounced, the unfortunate woman addressed herself to the Almighty; and, being attended by the ordinary of the jail, she confessed to him the enormity of her guilt, and that the punishment which awaited her was a just one. The parting between her and her husband and son is described to have been one which exhibited the strongest affection to exist, and which appeared to call up all those better feelings of the heart in the breast of this wretched woman, which must have lain dormant during the whole course of the maltreatment to which she subjected her wretched apprentices. On her way to the scaffold she was assailed by the mob, who expressed the most unmitigated disgust for her crime; and, before the termination of her existence, she appeared to be fully sensible of the awful situation in which she stood, and prayed the ordinary to acquaint the people that she confessed her crime, and acknowledged the justice of her sentence.
After her execution, which took place at Tyburn, September the 14th, 1767, her body was put into a hackney-coach, and conveyed to Surgeons’ Hall, where it was dissected, and her skeleton hung up.