And now am careless what thou say’st of me:
Thy smiles I court not, nor thy frowns I fear:
My cares are past; my heart lies easy here.
What faults they find in me take care, to shun;
And look at home—enough is to be done.”
JAMES ATTAWAY AND RICHARD BAILEY.
EXECUTED FOR BURGLARY.
THE crime for which these men so justly suffered was committed in a manner most artful and daring.
About nine o’clock in the evening they went to the house of Thomas Le Merr, Esq. in Bedford-row, London, a public and genteel street. They had received information that Mr. Le Merr was in the country, and on their knocking at the door, it was opened by a footman, who was alone in the house, to whom Bailey delivered a letter, saying it was for his master. Before the servant could answer, they rushed in, shut the street door, and stabbed him in the belly with a dagger. They then drew cords from their pockets, tied the bleeding man’s hands behind his back, and dragged him down stairs into the kitchen, and there bringing the rope about his neck, and across his face, in such a manner that it went through his mouth, which it kept open, and making it fast behind, thus bound, they forced him into a cellar, and bolted him in. In a few minutes one of the villains returned, asking if he was fast; and being answered, as well as the poor man could speak, that he was secure enough, they broke open the pantry, where the plate-chest was kept, forced the lock, and deliberately packed up its contents. In the mean time, however, the wounded man gnawed the rope in his mouth, and soon liberated himself. He then forced open the door which confined him, and got into the area, over which was a skylight, and, apprehensive that he was bleeding to death, he made an effort, by climbing up a pipe, to get through it, and give an alarm. In effecting this he stuck by the middle, and near his wound, a considerable time, but was not heard by the thieves, who were busily employed in securing their plunder. Making a last exertion, he succeeded in raising himself up, and, dragging the rope after him, he got to the stables behind the house, and called for help as loud as his almost exhausted strength would permit. Five or six grooms immediately came to his assistance; and, learning the cause of his alarm, they seized the robbers as they were coming out of the house; thus fortunately saving the poor fellow’s life and Mr. Le Merr’s property.
On this evidence the prisoners were subsequently found guilty, the wounded man being able to appear in court against them, and were executed at Tyburn, July 4, 1770.
LEVI WEIL, ASHER WEIL, JACOB LAZARUS, AND SOLOMON PORTER.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF JOHN SLOW.
THIS daring violation of the law, which long roused the public indignation against the whole Jewish people, happened in the house of Mrs. Hutchings, in the King’s-road, Chelsea, who was a farmer’s widow, left by her husband in good circumstances, and with three children, two boys and a girl.
On a Saturday evening, just as the Jewish Sabbath was ended, a numerous gang of Jews assembled in Chelsea Fields; and having lurked about there until ten o’clock, at that hour went to the house of Mrs. Hutchings, and demanded admittance. The family had all retired to rest, with the exception of Mrs. Hutchings and her two female servants, and being alarmed by the unseasonable request of the applicants, they proceeded in a body to know their business. The door was no sooner opened, however, than a number of fellows,—all of whom had the appearance of Jews,—rushed in, and seizing the terrified females, threatened them with instant death in the event of their offering any resistance. Mrs. Hutchings, being a woman of considerable muscular strength, for a time opposed them; but her antagonists having soon overpowered her, they tied her petticoats over her head, and proceeded to secure the servants. The girls having been tied back to back, five of the fellows proceeded to ransack the house, while the remainder of the gang remained below to guard the prisoners. Having visited the rooms occupied by the children of Mrs. Hutchings in turn, the ruffians proceeded to the apartment in which two men, employed as labourers on the farm, named John Slow and William Stone, were lying undisturbed by the outcry which had been raised below. It was soon determined that these men were likely to prove mischievous, and that they must be murdered; and Levi Weil, a Jewish physician, who was one of the party, and was the most sanguinary villain of his gang, aimed a blow at the breast of Stone, intended for his death, but which only stunned him. Slow started up, and the villains cried “Shoot him! shoot him!” and a pistol was instantly fired at him, and he fell, exclaiming, “Lord have mercy on me! I am murdered!”
They dragged the wounded man out of the room to the head of the stairs; but in the mean time Stone, recovering his senses, jumped out of bed, and escaped to the roof of the house, through the window. The thieves now descended and plundered the house of all the plate they could discover; but finding no money, they went to Mrs. Hutchings, and threatened to murder her if she did not disclose the place of its concealment. She gave them her watch, and was afterwards compelled to give up a purse containing 65l., with which they immediately retired. Mrs. Hutchings now directly set her female servants at liberty, and having gone in search of the men, she found Slow, who declared he was dying, and dropped insensible on the floor. He languished until the following afternoon, and then died of the wounds which he had received.
It was a considerable time before the perpetrators of this most diabolical outrage were discovered; but they were at length given up to justice by one of their accomplices, named Isaacs, who was a German Jew, and who, reduced to the greatest necessity, was tempted by the prospect of reward to impeach his fellows. It then turned out that the gang consisted of eight persons, who were headed by the physician before-mentioned. Dr. Weil had been educated in a superior manner. He had studied physic in the university of Leyden, where he was admitted to the degree of doctor in that faculty; and, then coming to England, he practised in London, with no inconsiderable degree of success, and was always known by the name of Doctor Weil; but so destitute was he of all principle, and such was the depravity of his heart, that he determined to engage in the dangerous practice of robbery; and, having formed this fatal resolution, he wrote to Amsterdam, to some poor Jews, to come to England, and assist him in his intended depredations on the public; and at the same time informed them that in England large sums were to be acquired by the practice of theft.
The inconsiderate men no sooner received Dr. Weil’s letter than they procured a passport from the English consul, and, embarking in the Harwich packet-boat, arrived in England.
They lost no time in repairing to London, and, immediately attending Dr. Weil, he informed them that his plan was, that they should go out in the day-time, and minutely survey such houses near London as might probably afford a good booty, and then attack them at night.
At the sessions held at the Old Bailey, in the month of December 1771, Levi Weil, Asher Weil, Marcus Hartagh, Jacob Lazarus, Solomon Porter, and Lazarus Harry, were indicted for the felony and murder above-mentioned, when the two of the name of Weil, with Jacob Lazarus and Solomon Porter, were capitally convicted; while Marcus Hartagh and Lazarus Harry were acquitted for want of evidence.
These men, as is customary in all cases of murder, when it can be made convenient to the Court, were tried on a Friday, and on the following day they were anathematised in the synagogue. As their execution was to take place on the Monday following, one of the rabbis went to them in the press-yard of Newgate, and delivered to each of them a Hebrew book; but declined attending them to the place of death, nor even prayed with them at the time of his visit.
They were attended to Tyburn, the place of execution, by immense crowds of people, who were anxious to witness the exit of wretches, whose crimes had been so much the object of public notice.
Having prayed together, and sung a hymn in the Hebrew language, they were launched into eternity, December 9, 1771.
After the bodies had hung the customary time, they were conveyed to Surgeons’ Hall to be dissected.
JAMES BOLLAND.
EXECUTED FOR FORGERY.
THE adventures of this fellow exhibit him to have been a person of a most profligate disposition. By means of his employment as a bailiff, he obtained the custody of great numbers of unfortunate debtors, whom it became his entire occupation to fleece of any small property which might be left in their possession at the time of their incarceration. Bailiffs at the present day are not much esteemed as persons of respectable character, or whose mode of life is at all calculated to raise them in the opinions of their fellows; but, judging from the case of Bolland, the race appears to have much improved since the year 1772.
Bolland was the son of a butcher in Whitechapel, and having been brought up to his father’s trade, he opened a shop on his own account, almost immediately on the termination of his apprenticeship. His ideas of life, however, did not permit him to pay that attention to his business which it demanded; and having spent no small portion of his time and money in the society of bailiffs, thief-takers, and blacklegs, he at length found himself tottering on the eve of bankruptcy. To avoid a catastrophe which might have damaged him in the estimation of his companions, he now sold off his effects; and in order to indulge a taste which he appeared to have imbibed from his recent associations, he procured himself to be appointed one of the officers of the sheriff of Surrey, and opened a “sponging-house,” or receptacle for newly-arrested debtors, at the bottom of Falcon-court, near St. George’s Church, Southwark. The sponging-houses of the last century, as it may be well supposed, had no better qualities to recommend them than those of the present day, and that of Mr. Bolland appeared to outvie its fellows in the wretchedness and poverty of its equipments. It was, however, speedily inhabited by a number of wretched debtors, and now came the opportunity for its proprietor to exercise his power of discrimination between those who were unable to contribute to his benefit, and those whose purses even yet afforded the possibility of his squeezing from them a few golden drops. Those whose money was all spent were not long permitted to remain in his “establishment,” but were sent off to the county prison as soon as the discovery of their poverty was made; but those who could afford to pay for their accommodations, and besides to enter with him into the amusements of cards and dice, were welcomed as honoured visitors, so long as their money lasted, until, in order to avoid further imposition, they demanded to be conveyed to prison, or until the exigency of the writs upon which they had been arrested rendered their removal necessary.
It may be readily imagined that no occasion was allowed by Bolland to slip, on which, either by the exercise of fraud or artifice, he could procure money from his unfortunate guests; and situated as he was—the master of the house, all efforts to oppose his will were of course unavailing so long as his dupes remained under his roof. But while his frauds at home were carried on with the most daring effrontery, he was no less active abroad, in endeavouring to “raise the wind.” He became a horse-dealer, and a bill-discounter; and in both of these professions ample opportunities for the exercise of all sorts of chicanery were afforded. At length, however, his name and his infamous practices became so notorious that his business forsook him—his employers justly imagining that when his conduct was so villanous, they might be justly reflected upon for encouraging him—and with his business, the means of meeting his numerous and very heavy expenses declined. His creditors became clamorous, and a commission of bankruptcy was sued out by a friend, but not until he had managed to gull the public to a large extent, and to secrete a very considerable quantity of valuable effects.
Having been “whitewashed” of his old debts, upon his discharge from prison he managed once again to enter into business, and having procured new bondsmen, he was appointed an officer to the sheriff of Middlesex, and opened a sponging-house in the Savoy. His successes in his new avocation were by no means so great as those which he had experienced in his late employment in Surrey; but he managed to eke out the means of existence between his house and his successes at play in the various billiard-rooms in the vicinity of his dwelling.
At length, however, having by his fraudulent schemes involved himself in almost innumerable difficulties, he determined upon once more “passing the court,” to get rid of his liabilities; and the necessary proceedings were taken to procure a second commission of bankruptcy. During his sojourn in the Fleet Prison, whither, like many of his late victims, he was now obliged to go, he formed acquaintances by no means calculated to improve his character for respectability, nor to induce him to adopt any new mode of life. On his discharge, through the instrumentality of some of his prison friends, he procured himself once again to be appointed a sheriff’s officer of Middlesex, and he now commenced business in Great Shire Lane, Fleet-street. If his exertions as a bailiff in the Savoy had failed in procuring for him those returns which his situation might lead him to expect, he had now no reason to complain of want of patronage. His acquaintance among the “sharp practice” attorneys had been lately increasing, and he was soon almost fully employed by them. His house was again rendered the means of procuring for him the most extravagant returns for his outlay on behalf of his prisoners, and his ingenuity and impudence supplied any deficiency which might have before appeared in his income.
One or two instances of the devices to which he had recourse may prove interesting. Having been employed by a gentleman to arrest a person who was his debtor to the amount of three hundred pounds on a bill of exchange, and who held the situation of captain of an East Indiaman, Bolland immediately proceeded to make the necessary inquiries respecting his prey. He learned that his vessel was about to sail in the course of a very few days; but, determined to be beforehand with him, he caused him to be immediately arrested and carried to his lock-up house. His employer, in the mean time, had gone out of town, and therefore looked for no immediate account from the officer; but the latter having procured the debt and costs from his prisoner, suffered him immediately to depart. Some months elapsed before the plaintiff in the suit returned to London, and then he demanded to know what success the bailiff had had in procuring the payment of the debt; but he was assured by him that the vessel had sailed before the writ was lodged in his hands, and that all his efforts to procure the money had been unavailing. He then tendered a charge of the costs which had been incurred, and the amount having been paid, he walked off. His cheat was soon destined to be discovered, however; for the captain having returned, a writ was lodged in the hands of another officer, by whom he was a second time arrested. The result may be easily imagined: Bolland’s receipt for the debt and costs, dated eighteen months before, was produced, and the prisoner was at once set at liberty. Proceedings were then immediately instituted against our hero, and after a long course of opposition to the law, through which he imagined that he would not be followed, he was compelled to refund the money which he had so dishonestly obtained.
The following case shows that he did not always come off the winner:—The custom of putting in sham bail has long been well known; and although recent enactments of the legislature have put an end to this system, founded on perjury and fraud, the “men of straw” who formerly paraded Westminster Hall, ready to swear that they were worth any amount, and who were easily recognised by the straw which hung out of their shoes, are yet well remembered. Bolland, in the course of his professional avocations, had frequent necessity for the use of persons of this description; and he had gone so far as to hire two men for the exclusive use of his establishment, whom he had attired in something like decency, for the sake of giving his transactions an air of respectability. Having upon one occasion accompanied his servants to a public-house in Covent Garden, to regale them after a “good hit,” he was surprised to see them suddenly carried off by two Bow-street runners on a charge of highway-robbery. At the ensuing Old Bailey Sessions, they were put upon their trial charged with the offence alleged against them, and a verdict of conviction having been recorded, they were sentenced to be hanged. Bolland, in his capacity of sheriff’s officer, was compelled to accompany them to the gallows, and had the mortification of seeing them turned off, wearing the clothes which he had provided them, and which, by custom, became the property of the executioner.
Another instance will show how far his villany extended. A Mrs. Beauclerc was the wife of a captain in the navy, and her husband having been detained at sea for a period much longer than was expected, she contracted a debt amounting to thirty pounds. The creditor became solicitous that the money should be repaid; but Mrs. Beauclerc being devoid of the means of payment, and having no friend to whom in her strait she could apply, was at length arrested by Bolland upon a writ which had been placed in his hands for execution, and conveyed to Great Shire Lane. Having tasted all the pleasures of a residence in a sponging-house, she became anxious in a day or two for her release upon any terms which she could make; and, upon her entreaty, Bolland procured bail to be put in for her on a fee of five guineas being handed over. She had scarcely obtained her liberty, however, before she was rendered into custody by her bail, acting upon the advice of Bolland, who represented that her circumstances were such as to render the continuance of their liability in her behalf exceedingly dangerous. Every post was expected to bring news of Captain Beauclerc, and with it the means of discharging the debt; and the poor woman, terrified at an incarceration in Newgate, with which she was threatened, was induced to raise ten pounds, in order once more to procure her liberation upon bail. The money being tendered, her jailor was too good a judge to permit her to go at large without some further security; and he insisted upon her signing a bond to confess judgment, levyable upon her furniture, as a collateral security. Mrs. Beauclerc was ignorant of the nature of such an instrument, and readily assented to everything that was proposed; and her surprise may be imagined when, on the very day after her liberation, a writ of execution was put into her house, founded upon the judgment signed upon her confession, under which all her goods were seized. Distracted at the prospect of her husband’s speedy return, and at his discovery of her destitution, in a state of the wildest desperation she attempted to set fire to the house which she occupied. Her offence was, from its nature, immediately discovered, and the unhappy woman was dragged to Newgate to await her trial. Scarcely had she become an inmate of the jail, the name of which she had before so much dreaded, when her husband arrived in London, and was horror-struck at discovering her situation. Every effort was made by him on her behalf; but before the trial of his wretched wife came on, he was suddenly arrested by Bolland, upon a writ sued out upon an affidavit of debt, falsely sworn at the instance of the officer. His condition may be easily supposed to have been heart-rending in the extreme; and his wife, deprived of the assistance which she might have obtained had he been at large, was convicted and received sentence of death. The captain, in order as soon as possible to be able to render his wife that comfort which her situation demanded, and to make some exertions in her behalf, procured his liberation, though it was by paying the debt to which he was sworn to be liable; and the case of his wife being represented to the king, she was at length released from confinement, upon an unconditional pardon which was granted to her.
By these and other artifices, and by the most unblushing effrontery, Bolland succeeded at length in amassing a sum of two thousand pounds; and the office of City-marshal becoming vacant, he determined, if possible, to become its possessor by way of purchase. The situation, as was then customary, was put up for sale, and after a spirited bidding, he became the buyer at a price of two thousand four hundred pounds; and having paid the deposit-money, and raised such portion of the whole sum as he did not possess, he only waited the approval of the Court of Aldermen at once to take upon himself the duties of the office. His character had, however, became too notorious to permit of his being allowed to assume a situation of so much importance in the City; and a message was communicated to him by the recorder, in which the nature of the grounds of the refusal were stated. An action was threatened upon the breach of contract, as well as upon the defamation of his character, conveyed by the message of the recorder; but finding that he was likely to gain nothing by an opposition to the corporation of London, he desisted from any further proceedings, and demanded the restitution of the amount of the deposit money. But here he was doomed to suffer another disappointment. The amount handed over had been attached by the persons, who had become his sureties to the sheriff, on account of certain liabilities which he had incurred to them under their bail bonds, and it was detained in order to await the decision of a court of law upon the claim.
Before the proceedings which arose upon the subject, however, had terminated, Bolland was guilty of the offence for which he became liable to trial, and was convicted and executed. It appears that his crime consisted in the introduction of a false indorsement upon the back of a bill of exchange, made by Bolland for the purpose of giving it a fictitious value. A person named Jesson having discounted a bill for him, they accidentally met at the George and Vulture Tavern, Cornhill, on the day when it became due. Jesson demanded payment; but Bolland declared that he was unprepared with the money requisite to take up the instrument, and tendered another bill for one hundred pounds, accepted by a Mr. Bradshaw, as an equivalent. Jesson, after some demur, consented to take the bill; and Bolland indorsed it with his own name. This was exclaimed against by Jesson, on the ground that it would not be negociable if his name appeared on it; and he then took a knife, and, according to Jesson’s belief, scratched out the whole name, while, in reality, he scratched out all except the initial, which he left, and to which he added the letters “anks,” so as to make the name “James Banks.” The bill was then handed back to Jesson; and on the following day it was discounted for him by a person named Cardineaux. The latter subsequently demanded to know who Banks was; and Bolland informed him that he was a victualler in the neighbourhood of Rathbone Place, in an extensive and reputable way of business. Before the bill became due it was again discounted for Cardineaux by his banker, and Bradshaw, the acceptor, became bankrupt. Cardineaux, in consequence, applied to Jesson to take up the bill, and he in turn went to Bolland; but the latter positively refused to have anything to do with it, and even went so far as to deny, with the utmost effrontery, that he had ever seen it. At a subsequent meeting between Cardineaux, Jesson, and Bolland, the latter endeavoured to excuse himself from payment, by alleging that his name did not appear on the instrument; but on his being called upon to explain how Banks’s indorsement came upon it, he desired that all further disputes might subside, and that he would take it up. An investigation, however, subsequently took place, and Jesson, annoyed at the double fraud which had been practised upon him, took the advice of counsel as to what should be done. An opinion was given that an indictment for forgery would lie, and Bolland was taken into custody; but then immediately a person, who stated his name to be Banks, applied to Cardineaux to take up the bill. The one hundred pounds were accepted, and the supposed Mr. Banks obtained a receipt for that amount; but on his demanding the delivery of the bill, he was informed that it was detained in order to be produced in evidence at the trial, after which he should be welcome to it.
The prisoner was indicted at the ensuing Old Bailey sessions, when proof of the facts which we have detailed having been given, and all efforts to prove the existence of any such Mr. Banks as had been described having failed, a verdict of Guilty was returned. Every effort was subsequently made by the prisoner’s counsel, on a motion in arrest of judgment, to procure the verdict to be set aside, but in vain, and sentence of death was passed upon him in the usual form.
On the morning of his execution, the unhappy wretch confessed that he had been guilty of innumerable sins, but declared that he had no fraudulent intention in indorsing the bill when he put it off.
He was hanged at Tyburn on the 18th of March 1772, and his body was in the evening conveyed to Bunhill Fields, and there buried.
WILLIAM GRIFFITHS.
EXECUTED FOR HIGHWAY ROBBERY.
THE person robbed in this case was the celebrated and unfortunate Dr. Dodd, whom, a few years afterwards, Fate decreed to be hanged at the very spot where Griffiths suffered.
William Griffiths was a native of Shropshire, and followed the business of husbandry till he had attained his eighteenth year, when he engaged in a naval life, and remained near three years in the East Indies. The ship was paid off on his return to England; and our hero receiving a considerable sum for wages, spent his money, as sailors generally do, in no very reputable company, at public-houses in Wapping and adjacent parts.
Being now reduced to poverty, he was persuaded by two fellows named David Evans and Timothy Johnson to join them in the commission of highway robberies. Their efforts were attended with small success, and Griffiths’s reign was soon terminated. It appears that the Rev. Dr. Dodd and his lady were returning from a visit they had been making to a gentleman at St. Albans, but were detained on the way at Barnet, because a post-chaise could not be immediately procured. Night was hastily approaching when they left Barnet; but they proceeded unmolested until they came near the turnpike at the extremity of Tottenham-Court-Road, when three men called to the driver of the carriage, and threatened his instant destruction if he did not stop. The postboy did not hesitate to obey the summons; but no sooner was the carriage stopped than a pistol was fired, the ball from which went through the front glass of the chaise, but did not take any effect to the injury of the parties in it. Griffiths then immediately opened the door of the chaise; on which the doctor begged him to behave with civility, on account of the presence of the lady. He delivered his purse, which contained only two guineas, and a bill of exchange, and also gave the robber some loose silver. Griffiths, having received the booty, decamped with the utmost precipitation; but Dr. Dodd lost no time in repairing to Sir John Fielding’s office, where he and his lady gave so full a description of the person of the principal robber, that he was immediately apprehended.
At the trial, the doctor declared that he had only come forward on account of the pistol having been fired, but refused to swear to the person of the prisoner. His lady, however, was more positive in her evidence; and no doubt being left as to his identity, he was found guilty and received sentence of death.
He afterwards confessed the crimes of which he had been guilty, and was executed on the 20th of January 1773, apparently sincerely penitent for his offences.
JOHN LEONARD.
EXECUTED FOR A RAPE.
THE circumstances of this case are marked by peculiar atrocity. It appears that a man named Vere, a sheriff’s officer, having put an execution into a house of Mr. Brailsford, in Petty France, Westminster, he placed Leonard, Graves, and Gay, three of his followers, in possession.
A young woman named Boss resided in an apartment on the second floor of the house, and on the 15th June, 1773, the family of Mr. Brailsford having all gone out in search of the means of getting rid of their unwelcome visitants, she was left alone in the house with the three officers. She was at work in her own room, when, about mid-day, Leonard opened the door, and began in a familiar manner to speak to her. Terror for a while deprived her of utterance; but finding him proceed to take those liberties which female virtue can never suffer, she resisted, screamed out, seized the villain by the throat, struggled until she was exhausted, and then sank down, deprived of reason. In this situation her assailant used her in the way that constituted the offence for which he was justly executed.
A neighbour hearing the cries of the distressed female, and suspecting some foul deed, knocked at the street-door, and inquired the cause of the noise; to which Leonard, opening the window, replied that it was only a drunken woman: and the inquirer retired.
The three villains, Leonard, Graves, and Gay, were afterwards indicted for this cruel outrage: Leonard as the principal, and the others as accessories to the fact; and upon their trial they were all found guilty. Graves and Gay were burned in the hand and imprisoned; but sentence of death was immediately passed upon Leonard.
Although convicted upon the clearest evidence, this obdurate man denied that he was guilty; and on the Sunday before he suffered, he received the sacrament from the hands of the Rev. Mr. Temple, and then, in the most solemn manner, declared to that gentleman that he was entirely innocent of the fact for which he was to die; that he had been repeatedly intimate with Miss Boss, with her own consent; and that all the reason he could conjecture for her prosecuting him was, that he had communicated this matter to Graves, one of the other followers, who availed himself of the secret, and found means to get into the young lady’s room, and who really perpetrated the fact with which she had falsely accused him.
In this story he persisted all the time he remained in Newgate; but Mr. Temple, suspecting his veracity, delivered a paper to Mr. Toll, another gentleman who usually administered spiritual comfort to the malefactors in their last moments, in which he requested him to ask Leonard about those two assertions before he was turned off.
This request Mr. Toll and his colleague punctually complied with, and the unhappy man then acknowledged that he had taken the sacrament to an absolute falsehood; that there was not a word of truth in his impeaching Miss Boss, but that he alone abused her; that he was taught in Newgate to believe that the falsehood might do him service; that he found his mistake too late, and all the atonement he could make was to acknowledge the truth before he left the world, and to beg pardon of God for having acted in so atrocious a manner.
He was executed on the 11th August, 1773, at Tyburn.
SAMUEL MALE.
EXECUTED FOR ROBBERY.
THE short life of this culprit was remarkable for producing two surprising instances of the uncertainty of identity.
On the 4th of September, 1772, he was arraigned at the bar of the Old Bailey for a robbery upon a Mrs. Ryan.
The prosecutrix and other witnesses swore positively that the prisoner committed the robbery on the 17th of June then last past.
The court consequently supposed conviction would follow; but being called on for his defence, he said he was innocent, and that the books of the court would prove where he was on the day of the robbery.
Reference was immediately made to the records; and strange yet true to relate, that, on the very day and hour sworn to, Male was actually on his trial at the bar where he then stood, for another robbery, when he was unfortunate enough to have been mistaken for another person. He was consequently acquitted; but the force of example did not deter him from the commission of crime, and although he was discharged from prison without reproach, he came out a determined thief.
His career of villany was soon ended; for in six months afterwards we find him expiating his crimes at the gallows. He was charged with a real robbery, committed by him on the person of Mrs. Grignion, and being unable again to prove an alibi, as he had hitherto done, he was found guilty, and was executed at Tyburn on the 25th of March, 1773.
WILLIAM FARMERY.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF HIS MOTHER.
WHILE we sketch the shocking crime of this monster, we have some consolation in observing that, in our long researches into the baseness of mankind, he is the first we have met with, who, with long-lurking malice, shed the blood of his mother.
A subject so strangely horrid and unnatural we shall dismiss by a bare recital of the shocking circumstance.
It appears that among other undutiful acts, he had one morning given offence to his parent, for which he was justly reproached, whereupon he went out of her house, took the knife from his pocket, and deliberately whetted it till quite sharp. Then returning with the murderous instrument in his hand, he found his unfortunate mother in the act of making his own bed.
Without uttering a word, he threw her down, and as a butcher kills a sheep, he stuck her in the throat, and left her weltering in her blood, of which wound she died.
On his examination he confessed the fact, and said that he had determined upon his mother’s death three years before; for that he had treasured up malice against her since she had corrected him for some trifling fault when a little boy.
He was executed at Lincoln, where his offence was committed, on the 5th of August, 1775.
AMOS MERRITT.
EXECUTED FOR BURGLARY.
THE case of this prisoner is a fit successor to that of Samuel Male, which has been just related. His execution arose out of the following circumstances. On the 19th August, 1774, Patrick Maden, convicted of a foot-robbery on the highway, and William Waine and Levi Barnet for burglary, were carried to Tyburn for execution, pursuant to their sentence. When the cart was drawn under the gallows, a man among the crowd of spectators called out for the others to make way for him, as he had something to communicate to the sheriff respecting one of the prisoners. This being effected, the man, who proved to be Amos Merritt, addressed Mr. Reynolds, the under-sheriff, and declared that Patrick Maden was innocent of the crime for which he was about to suffer. Mr. Reynolds desired he would look upon the prisoner, and speak aloud what he had represented to him. He did so, and declared that he was not guilty; but declined accusing himself. The sheriffs, on hearing this declaration, despatched Mr. Reynolds with the information to the secretary of state, and to request his further orders; and a respite being obtained for Maden, he was carried back to Newgate, amid the acclamations of the people.
Merritt was then taken into custody, and at the public office in Bow-street, before Mr. Justice Addington, confessed that he himself was the person who had committed the robbery of which Maden had been convicted, and the last-named prisoner was then pardoned.
Though no doubt remained of Merritt’s guilt, yet, as no proof could be adduced to that effect, he for a while escaped justice.
He had been guilty of many robberies, the particulars of which are not interesting, and we shall therefore come to that for which he suffered.
At the sessions held at the Old Bailey in the month of December 1774, Amos Merritt was indicted for feloniously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Edward Ellicott, early in the morning of the 26th of October, and stealing from it a quantity of plate, a gold watch, and other valuable articles, to a large amount.
Mr. Ellicott deposed that he lived in Hornsey-lane, near Highgate, that he was awakened by his wife, who inquired what noise was in the house; and ringing the bell, both of them jumped out of bed. The first words they then heard were, “Come up directly;” and then some person said, “D—n your bloods, we will murder every soul in the house!” Mrs. Ellicott said, “Lord bless me, the door is open!” and running to the door, pushed it close. Mr. Ellicott gave immediate assistance; and a person who was without, who he believed from his voice was the prisoner, said, “D—n you, if you do not open the door, I will murder every one of you!”
The rest of the evidence was to the following effect:—The villains attempted to force open the door, putting a hanger with a scabbard between that and the post; but Mr. Ellicott, who was a powerful man, kept them out by mere strength, and having fastened the door with a drop bolt, which went into the flooring, he ran to the window, and called out “Thieves!” In the mean time Mrs. Ellicott, by perpetual ringing of the bell, hail alarmed the servants, who ran into the road after the thieves, who had by this time got off with the property.
Notice having been given at Sir John Fielding’s, Merritt and his accomplices were taken into custody on suspicion, and after an examination at Bow-street were committed to Newgate.
At the trial the evidence was deemed so satisfactory that the jury did not hesitate to find Merritt guilty; in consequence of which he received sentence of death, and was executed at Tyburn on the 18th of January, 1775, within six months of the period of his saving the unfortunate Maden from an untimely and ignominious fate.
Connected with the two cases just detailed, we may relate an anecdote of a very remarkable instance of personal similitude which happened at New York, in North America, in the year 1804.
A man was indicted for bigamy under the name of James Hoag. He was met in a distant part of the country by some friends of his supposed first wife, and apprehended. The prisoner denied the charge, and said his name was Thomas Parker. On the trial, Mrs. Hoag, her relations, and many other credible witnesses, swore that he was James Hoag, and the former swore positively that he was her husband. On the other side, an equal number of witnesses, equally respectable, swore that the prisoner was Thomas Parker; and Mrs. Parker appeared, and claimed him as her husband. The first witnesses were again called by the Court, and they not only again deposed to him, but swore that by stature, shape, gesture, complexion, looks, voice, and speech, he was James Hoag. They even described a particular scar on his forehead, by which he could be known. On turning back the hair, the scar appeared. The others, in return, swore that he had lived among them, worked with them, and was in their company on the very day of his alleged marriage with Mrs. Hoag. Here the scales of testimony were balanced, for the jury knew not to which party to give credit. Mrs. Hoag, anxious to gain back her husband, declared he had a certain more particular mark on the sole of his foot. Mrs. Parker avowed that her husband had no such mark; and the man was ordered to pull off his shoes and stockings. His feet were examined, and no mark appeared.
The ladies now contended for the man, and Mrs. Hoag vowed that she had lost her husband, and she would have him; but during this strife, a justice of the peace from the place where the prisoner was apprehended entered the Court, and turned the scale in his favour. His worship swore him to be Thomas Parker; that he had known, and occasionally employed him, from his infancy; whereupon Mrs. Parker embraced and carried off her husband in triumph, by the verdict of the jury.
The following anecdote was related by Mr. Baron Garrow upon the trial of a prisoner, whose identity was questionable, on the Oxford Circuit. The learned judge was in the course of summing up the case to the jury, when he stated that a few years before, a prisoner was on his trial before him, upon a charge of highway robbery. His person was identified positively by the prosecutor, who even went so far as to say that he now wore the same clothes in which he had been attired on the occasion on which the robbery was committed; and the jury were on the point of being dismissed to the consideration of their verdict, when suddenly shouts were heard in the yard attached to the Court-house;—cries of “Make way—make way,” were distinguished;—and a man on horseback, whose appearance denoted the rapidity with which he had ridden, rushed in among the people congregated to await the result of the trial, and, throwing himself from his horse, which was covered with foam, made his way with the greatest expedition to the entrance of the Court. The outcry which was raised had stopped the learned judge in his concluding observations, and before he could resume his address to the jury, the man, booted and spurred, and covered with mud, called upon him to “stop the case, for that he had ridden fifty miles to save the life of a fellow-creature—the prisoner at the bar.” His lordship and the Court were astonished at the interruption, and called upon the stranger to explain his conduct. His answer was that he knew that the prisoner could not be guilty of the offence imputed to him; and he called upon the prosecutor of the indictment to say whether, after having seen him, he could still swear that the prisoner was the offender. The prosecutor again entered the witness-box, and surveyed the stranger from head to foot. He was dressed in a manner precisely similar to that in which the prisoner was attired—a green coat with brass buttons, drab breeches, and top-boots;—their countenances were so nearly alike in style, that from the transient view he had had of the robber, he was unable to distinguish which was the real thief. The Court were unwilling to suffer a person who was really innocent to be convicted, and proceeded to make inquiries of the stranger as to his reasons for interrupting the trial, and as to his knowledge of the circumstances of the robbery. Upon the former point, the only explanation which could be obtained from him was, that he was perfectly satisfied that the prisoner was innocent; upon the latter he declined to answer any queries, insinuating that, situated as he was, the Court would not compel him to criminate himself. The prisoner now reiterated the protestations of innocence which he had before made; and the prosecutor, being strictly examined by the Court, declared that he was so confused by the similarity which existed between the prisoner and the stranger, that he was unable to swear that the former was actually the thief; and that his impression now was, that the latter was the real offender. Under these circumstances, it was left to the jury to say, whether they could with safety declare the prisoner to be guilty; and a verdict of acquittal was in consequence returned, to the apparent satisfaction of the Court. It now became the duty of the judge to determine what further proceedings should be taken. A robbery, there was no doubt, had been committed, and its commission lay between the person who had just been acquitted and the stranger. The former must be presumed to be not guilty, because the jury had declared him to be so; and a bill of indictment was therefore directed to be preferred against the latter, who was taken into custody. The same evidence which had before been given was now repeated, and a true bill was returned. The trial came on in the course of the ensuing day, and a fresh jury being impanelled, the new prisoner was put upon his defence. It was a simple and plain one; “he was not guilty. The prosecutor had sworn positively to the person of the prisoner, who had been tried on the previous day, and could he now be permitted so to alter his testimony, as to procure the conviction of another? He had before declared that he could not distinguish the real offender, and what better opportunity had been since afforded him? Besides, his evidence now went only to his ‘belief’ as to the identity of the person charged: and surely if the jury had before acquitted a prisoner to whom he had sworn positively, they would not now convict, when his testimony was qualified.” This reasoning was too much for the jury; the prisoner had made no confession of his own guilt, and he was declared not guilty. The sequel was soon discovered; the two men were brothers: the first prisoner was the guilty party, and the whole “scene” got up by the stranger was a mere fabrication, invented for the purpose of gulling the Court and jury. No proceedings could be taken against either party; for although the Court had been imposed upon, the imposition was backed by no perjury, and the two thieves—for so they turned out—escaped unpunished.
Another instance of remarkable imposition being practised upon the Court, occurred subsequently at York. The case of a person who was charged with an extensive robbery on the highway, had attracted considerable attention. The prisoner, when apprehended, was attired in the habit of a working man; but the prosecutor, whose evidence as to his identity was positive, swore that when the robbery was committed he was well dressed, and mounted. The trial came on at the York assizes, and the Court was crowded with persons. Upon the evening preceding the day on which the case was fixed for trial, a gentleman drove up to one of the principal inns of the city in a travelling chariot, and requested to be accommodated with a bed. A handsome supper was ordered, and the stranger retired to rest. In the morning breakfast was served, and the landlord was sent for. The gentleman said that he was unacquainted with the town, and found that he was a day too early for the business upon which he had come to York: and he therefore desired to know whether there were any amusements going on, with which he could entertain himself until dinner-time. The castle, the minster, and various other curiosities were alluded to, in which he appeared to take no interest; and the landlord at length mentioned that the assizes were on, and suggested that he might probably derive some entertainment from listening to the trials; and he stated that a remarkable case of highway robbery was fixed for trial on that morning, and had by that time probably commenced. Some curiosity on this point was expressed; and the landlord, conducting his guest to the Court-house, obtained for him a seat upon the bench, upon assuring the high sheriff of his being a person of great apparent respectability, which the landlord had good reason to believe, from his having seen him with a bundle of notes in his possession of no inconsiderable size, which he observed that he had placed in his trunk with his pocket-book on his quitting the inn. The case of highway robbery, as the landlord suggested, had already commenced; the prisoner appeared to be a poor man, and was standing at the bar, with his face buried in his handkerchief, apparently deeply affected by the situation in which he was placed, and almost unconscious of what was passing around him. The trial now approached its termination; the evidence for the prosecution was completed, and the learned judge called on the prisoner for his defence. He raised himself languidly from the place where he had been resting, and assured the jury that he was innocent, when, suddenly starting, he exclaimed passionately. “There, there, my lord, there is a gentleman seated on your lordship’s bench who can prove that I am not guilty!” All eyes were turned to the person to whom the prisoner’s finger, in support of his declaration, was pointed; and the stranger was found to be the object of the remark. He expressed great surprise at being thus called upon, and declared that he was at a loss to know how the prisoner could appeal to him, for that he had no immediate recollection that he had ever seen him before. The learned judge demanded that the prisoner should explain himself; and he then stated that on the very day named in the indictment, and by the witnesses, as that on which the robbery had been committed, he was at Dover, and had conveyed the gentleman’s luggage in a wheelbarrow from the Ship Inn to the steam-packet, in which he was about to start for Calais. The gentleman, in answer to the questions put to him, said that he certainly had been at Dover about the time mentioned, and that he had lodged at the Ship Inn, and had gone from thence by steam to Calais. He remembered too that a man had carried his trunks as the prisoner had described; but that although he now had some distant recollection of the features of the man at the bar, he was unable to recognize him as the person he had employed; and he could not besides swear to the date of the transaction. The court inquired whether he was in the habit of making memoranda of his proceedings, and whether, by referring to any documents, he should be able to give any more decided information upon the subject? He answered, that being engaged in a large mercantile business it was certainly his custom to make notes in his pocket-book, but that the book was at his inn, locked in his trunk. The court said that in such a case it was desirable that the most minute inspection should take place, and desired that the gentleman should go for his book. The latter was unwilling to take this trouble, but would give his keys to the officer of the court, who might, in the presence of his landlord, open his trunk and bring the book to the court. Messengers were in consequence despatched, with directions to make further inquiries of the landlord as to the stranger; and in the meantime the prisoner proceeded to ask him questions, reminding him of certain occurrences which had taken place on the day in question on their way from the inn to the quay, and more especially that the packet was late in starting. To most of these the gentleman assented, and the pocket-book being now arrived he referred to it, and declared that the date mentioned was the very day on which he had quitted Dover as described; and from all the circumstances which the prisoner had detailed, he was decidedly of opinion that he was the person whom he had employed. The circumstances attending the arrival and sojourn of the stranger at the inn, as detailed by the landlord, who had come into court, were now whispered to the judge; and the gentleman having given his name, and stated himself to be connected with a most respectable banking firm in the city of London, the learned judge summed up the case, commenting upon the very remarkable coincidence which had occurred; and the jury, giving full credit to the testimony of the stranger, at once returned a verdict of not guilty in favour of the prisoner. This decision appeared to give perfect satisfaction to the court, and the prisoner was ordered to be immediately discharged. The stranger was complimented by the judge upon the essential service which he had been the means of rendering to a fellow creature, and left the court, declaring his happiness at his having been able to give such testimony. Within a fortnight afterwards, the late prisoner and his friend, the London merchant, were lodged in York Castle, charged with a most daring act of housebreaking, in which they had been concerned. The notes which the latter had sported at the inn were found to be drawn upon the “Bank of Fashion” instead of upon the “Bank of England;” and upon the prisoners being tried at the ensuing assizes, they were found guilty, and their lives were justly forfeited to the laws of their country.
JOHN RANN, alias SIXTEEN STRINGED JACK.
EXECUTED FOR HIGHWAY ROBBERY.
THE name of this criminal will be immediately recollected as one which has attained no small share of notoriety. He was born at a village a few miles from Bath, of poor parents; and during the greater part of his youth he obtained a living by pursuing the business of a costermonger. At the age of twelve years he was hired by a lady of distinction, whom he accompanied to London; and subsequently being employed in her stables, he obtained some knowledge of horses, and having served in the more humble capacity of post-boy at an inn, he was at length taken into the service of a gentleman of fortune, in Portman-square, as coachman. It was at this period that he dressed in the manner which gave rise to his appellation of Sixteen-stringed Jack, by wearing breeches with eight strings on each knee; but after having been employed by several noblemen he lost his character, and turned pickpocket, in company with three fellows named Jones, Clayton, and College, the latter of whom, a mere boy, obtained the name of Eight-stringed Jack.
The first appearance which our hero appears to have made at the bar of any Court of Justice was at the sessions held at the Old Bailey in April, 1774, when, with Clayton and one Shepherd, he was tried for robbing Mr. William Somers on the highway, and acquitted for want of evidence. They were again tried for robbing Mr. Langford, but acquitted for the same reason.
He was soon destined to be again in custody, however, and on the 30th of May following, he was charged with robbing John Devall, Esq. near the nine-mile stone on the Hounslow road, of his watch and money. It appeared that he had given the watch to a young woman with whom he lived, named Roche, who had delivered it to Catherine Smith, by whom it was offered in pledge to Mr. Hallam a pawnbroker, who, suspecting it was not honestly obtained, caused the parties to be taken into custody. Roche was now charged with receiving the watch, knowing it to have been stolen; and Smith, being sworn, deposed that on the day Mr. Devall was robbed, Roche told her that “she expected Rann to bring her some money in the evening;” that he accordingly came about ten at night, and having retired some time with Roche, she, on her return, owned that she had received a watch and five guineas from him, which he said he had taken from a gentleman on the highway; and that she, Smith, carried the watch to pawn to Mr. Hallam at the request of Roche. Upon this charge the prisoner Rann was again sent to Newgate; but on his trial in July 1774, he was acquitted. On his appearing at the bar, he was dressed in a manner above his style of life and his circumstances. He had a bundle of flowers in the breast of his coat almost as large as a broom; and his irons were tied up with a number of blue ribands.
Two or three days after this acquittal Rann engaged to sup with a girl at her lodgings in Bow Street; but not being punctual to his appointment, the woman went to bed, and her paramour being unable to obtain admittance by the door, proceeded to effect an entrance through the window; and had nearly accomplished his purpose, when a watchman interrupted him, and took him into custody. He was charged at Bow-street on the 27th of July with this alleged burglarious attempt; but the “young lady” appearing, declared the prisoner could have had no felonious intent, for that so far from her opposing his entry, had she been awake, she would instantly have admitted him; and besides that he was quite welcome to share everything that she possessed, even to her bed. Upon this declaration, the prisoner was dismissed, with a caution to adopt a less dangerous method of pursuing his amours.
After this it seems that the proceedings of our hero became pretty notorious, and he took no trouble either to conceal or disguise his person or his acts. He did not hesitate to proclaim himself as “Sixteen-stringed Jack, the famous highwayman,” and to appear at public places attired in a peculiar manner so as to excite observation and attention. It does not appear that his attacks were marked by any great degree of atrocity; and the celebrity which he obtained was rather of his own seeking. A short time before he was convicted of the offence which cost him his life, he attended a public execution at Tyburn, and getting in the ring formed by the constables round the gallows, desired that he might be permitted to stand there, “for,” said he, “perhaps it is very proper that I should be a spectator on this occasion.”
On the 26th of September, 1774, he went with William Collier on the Uxbridge-road, with a view to commit robberies on the highway; and being apprehended on the Wednesday following, they were examined at the public office in Bow-street on the following charge. Dr. William Bell, chaplain to the Princess Amelia, deposed that between three and four o’clock in the afternoon of Monday, the 26th of September, as he was riding near Ealing, he observed two men of rather mean appearance, who rode past him; and that he remarked they had suspicious looks; yet neither at that time, nor for some little time afterwards, had he any idea of being robbed: that soon afterwards one of them, whom he believed to be Rann, crossed the head of his horse, and demanding his money, said, “Give it to me, and take no notice, or I’ll blow your brains out.” On this the doctor gave him one shilling and sixpence, which was all the silver he had, and a common watch in a tortoise-shell case.
It further appeared that, on the night of the robbery, Rann’s companion Eleanor Roche, and her maid-servant, Christian Stewart, went to the shop of Mr. Cordy, a pawnbroker in Oxford-road, to pledge the watch, but that he stopped it, and found out its owner by applying to Mr. Grignon, its maker, in Russell-street, Covent-garden; and evidence was also adduced as to the identity of Rann, who was proved to have been seen at Acton within twenty minutes of the time of the robbery being committed. The prisoners were thereupon sent to Newgate to take their trials; and Roche and Stewart being also apprehended, were indicted as accessories after the fact.
The evidence given on the trial, was in substance the same as that which had been adduced at Bow-street; but some favourable circumstances appearing in behalf of Collier, he was recommended to mercy, and afterwards respited during the king’s pleasure. Miss Roche was sentenced to be transported for fourteen years; her servant was acquitted; and Rann was left for execution.
When Rann was brought down to take his trial he was dressed in a new suit of pea-green clothes; his hat was bound round with silver strings; he wore a ruffled shirt, and his behaviour evinced the utmost unconcern. Upon hearing the verdict of the jury, which consigned him to death, he endeavoured to force a smile, but the attempt was a failure, and it was evident that the confidence which he had before exhibited, now forsook him. He had been so certain of acquittal, that he had ordered a supper to be provided on the occasion; but his anticipations of pleasure were quickly changed into the reality of sorrow. After conviction, his behaviour was for a time unfitted for the melancholy condition in which he was placed. On Sunday, the 23d of October, he had seven girls to dine with him, and with their mirth endeavoured to shake off the heaviness which beset him, but the warrant for his execution soon after arriving, he became more sensible of his awful situation, and began to prepare for the sad fate which awaited him. At his execution, he behaved with decent resignation, and surveyed the gallows with an eye of confidence. He was executed on the 30th of November, 1774; and having hung the usual time, his body was delivered over to his friends for interment.
ROBERT AND DANIEL PERREAU.
EXECUTED FOR FORGERY.
THE circumstances of the cases of these prisoners are of a very remarkable description. It appears that the accused persons were twin brothers, and were so much alike that it was with difficulty that they were known apart. Robert Perreau carried on business in Golden-square as an apothecary, and was in great practice; while his brother lived in a style of considerable fashion, a Mrs. Margaret Caroline Rudd living with him as his wife.
At the sessions held at the Old Bailey in June 1775, Robert Perreau was indicted for forging a bond for the payment of 7,500l. in the name of William Adair, Esq (then a great government contractor), and also for feloniously uttering and publishing the said bond, knowing it to be forged, with intent to defraud Messrs. Robert and Henry Drummond, bankers.
From the evidence which was adduced at the trial, it appeared that on the 10th of March, 1775, the prisoner under trial, whose character up to that time had been considered unimpeachable, went to the house of Messrs. Drummond, and seeing Mr. Henry Drummond, one of the partners, said that he had been making a purchase of an estate in Norfolk or Suffolk, for which he was to give 12,000l., but that he had not sufficient cash to pay the whole purchase-money. That he had a bond, however, which Mr. Adair had given to his brother Daniel, for 7,500l., upon which he desired to raise a sum of 5000l., out of which he was willing to pay 1,400l., which he had already borrowed of the firm.
Mr. Drummond, on the production of the bond, had no sooner looked at the signature than he doubted its authenticity, and very politely asked the prisoner if he had seen Mr. Adair sign it. The latter said he had not, but that he had no doubt that it was authentic, from the nature of the connexion that subsisted between Mrs. Rudd, who was known to live with Daniel, and that gentleman; a suggestion having previously been thrown out that she was his natural daughter. Mr. Drummond, however, declined advancing any money without the sanction of his brother, and he desired Perreau to leave the bond, saying that it should either be returned on the next day, or the money produced. The prisoner made no scruple to obey this suggestion, and he retired, promising to call again the next day.
In the interim, Mr. Drummond examined the bond with greater attention; and Mr. Stephens, secretary of the Admiralty, happening to call, his opinion was demanded, when, comparing the signature to the bond with letters which he had lately received from Mr. Adair, he was firmly convinced that it was forged. When Perreau came on the following day, Mr. Drummond spoke more freely than he had done before, and told him that he imagined he had been imposed on; but begged, that to remove all doubt, he would go with him to Mr. Adair, and get that gentleman to acknowledge the validity of the bond, on which the money would be advanced. This was immediately acceded to; and on Mr. Adair seeing the document, he at once declared that the signature was a forgery. The prisoner smiled incredulously, and said that he jested; but Mr. Adair remarked that it was no jesting matter, and that it lay on him to clear up the affair. On this he went away, requesting to have the bond, in order to make the necessary inquiries—a request which was refused; and persons being employed to watch him, it was found that immediately on his arrival at his house, he and his brother and Mrs. Rudd got into a coach, carrying with them all the valuables which they could collect, with a design to make their escape. They were, however, stopped, and taken into custody, and being conveyed to Sir John Fielding’s, at Bow-street, they there underwent an examination, and upon the evidence adduced, were committed to prison. Other charges were subsequently brought against them by Sir Thomas Frankland, from whom they had obtained two sums of 5000l. and 4000l. on similar forged bonds, as well as 4000l. which they had paid when the amount became due; and by Dr. Brooke, who alleged that they had obtained from him 1500l. in bonds of the Ayr bank, upon the security of a forged bond for 3100l.; and Mrs. Rudd was then admitted as evidence for the Crown. Her deposition then was, that she was the daughter of a nobleman in Scotland; that, when young, she married an officer in the army named Rudd, against the consent of her friends; that her fortune was considerable; that on a disagreement with her husband, they resolved to part; that she made a reserve of money, jewels, and effects, to the amount of thirteen thousand pounds, all of which she gave to Daniel Perreau, whom she said she loved with the tenderness of a wife; that she had three children by him; that he had returned her kindness in every respect till lately, when, having been unfortunate in gaming in the alley, he had become uneasy, peevish, and much altered to her; that he cruelly constrained her to sign the bond now in question, by holding a knife to her throat, and swearing that he would murder her if she did not comply; that, being struck with remorse, she had acquainted Mr. Adair with what she had done; and that she was now willing to declare every transaction with which she was acquainted, whenever she should be called upon by law so to do.
Upon the cross-examination of Mr. Drummond, however, he swore that Mrs. Rudd on her being first apprehended, took the whole on herself, and acknowledged that she had forged the bonds; that she begged them “for God’s sake to have mercy on an innocent man,” and that she said no injury was intended to any person, and that all would be paid; and that she acknowledged delivering the bond to the prisoner. They then entertained an opinion that the prisoner was her dupe; and Mr. Robert Drummond having expressed a notion that she could not have forged a handwriting so dissimilar from that of a woman as Mr. Adair’s, she immediately, in order to satisfy them of the truth of what she said, wrote the name “William Adair” on a paper exactly like the signature which appeared attached to the bond.
Mr. Watson, a money-scrivener, also deposed, that he had filled up the bonds at the desire of one of the brothers, and in pursuance of instructions received from him; but he hesitated to fix on either, on account of their great personal resemblance; and being pressed to make a positive declaration, he fixed on Daniel as his employer.
The case for the prosecution being concluded, the prisoner entered upon his defence. In a long and ingenious speech, which he addressed to the jury, he strove hard to prove that he was the victim of the artifices of Mrs. Rudd.
He said that she was constantly conversing about the influence she had over Mr. W. Adair; and that Mr. Adair had, by his interest with the king, obtained the promise of a baronetage for Daniel Perreau, and was about procuring him a seat in parliament. That Mr. Adair had promised to open a bank, and take the brothers Perreau into partnership with him. That the prisoner received many letters signed “William Adair,” which he had no doubt came from that gentleman, in which were promises of giving them a considerable part of his fortune during his life; and that he was to allow Daniel Perreau two thousand four hundred pounds a year for his household expenses, and six hundred pounds a year for Mrs. Rudd’s pin-money. That Mr. Daniel Perreau purchased a house in Harley-street for four thousand pounds, which money Mr. William Adair was to give them. That when Daniel Perreau was pressed by the person of whom he bought the house for the money, the prisoner understood that they applied to Mr. William Adair, and that his answer was, that he had lent the king seventy thousand pounds, and had purchased a house in Pall Mall at seven thousand pounds, in which to carry on the banking business, and therefore could not spare the four thousand pounds at that time.
He declared that all attempts at personal communication with Mr. Adair were strenuously opposed by Mrs. Rudd as being likely to destroy the effects of her exertions on his behalf, and contended that his conduct throughout the whole transaction with Mr. Drummond, showed that he was innocent of any guilty intention, and that he firmly believed that he was acting honestly and justly.
He then proceeded to call the following witnesses, whose evidence we shall give in the most concise manner:—
George Kinder deposed that Mrs. Perreau (the only name by which he knew Mrs, Rudd) told him “that she was a near relation of Mr. James Adair; that he looked upon her as his child, had promised to make her fortune, and with that view had recommended her to Mr. William Adair, a near relation and intimate friend of his, who had promised to set her husband and the prisoner up in the banking business.” He also deposed that she said that Mr. Daniel Perreau was to be made a baronet, and described how she would act when she became a lady. The witness further deposed that Mrs. Rudd often pretended that Mr. William Adair had called to see her, but that he never had seen that gentleman on any visit.
John Moody, a livery-servant of Daniel Perreau, deposed that his mistress wrote two very different hands; in one of which she wrote letters to his master, as from Mr. William Adair, and in the other the ordinary business of the family. That the letters written in the name of William Adair were pretended to have been left in his master’s absence; that his mistress ordered him to give them to his master, and pretend that Mr. Adair had been with his mistress for a longer or shorter time, as circumstances required. This witness likewise proved that the hand at the bottom of the bond and that of his mistress’s fictitious writing were precisely the same; that she used different pens, ink, and paper, in writing her common and fictitious letters; and that she sometimes gave the witness half-a-crown when he had delivered a letter to her satisfaction. He said he had seen her go two or three times to Mr. J. Adair’s, but never to William’s; and that Mr. J. Adair once visited his mistress on her lying-in.
Susannah Perreau (the prisoner’s sister) deposed to her having seen a note delivered to Daniel Perreau, by Mrs. Rudd, for nineteen thousand pounds, drawn as by William Adair, on Mr. Croft, the banker, in favour of Daniel Perreau.
Elizabeth Perkins swore that a week before the forgery was discovered, her mistress gave her a letter to bring back to her in a quarter of an hour, and say it was brought by Mr. Coverley, who had been servant to Daniel Perreau; that she gave her mistress this letter, and her master instantly broke the seal.
Daniel Perreau swore that the purport of this letter was “that Mr. Adair desired her to apply to his brother, the prisoner, to procure him five thousand pounds upon his (Adair’s) bond, in the same manner as he had done before; that Mr. Adair was unwilling to have it appear that the money was raised for him, and therefore desired him to have the bond lodged with some confidential friend, who would not require an assignment of it; that his brother, on being made acquainted with his request, showed a vast deal of reluctancy, and said it was very unpleasant work; but undertook it with a view of obliging Mr. William Adair.”
The counsel for the prosecution demanding “if he did not disclaim all knowledge of the affair before Mr. Adair,” he said he denied ever having seen the bond before, nor had he a perfect knowledge of it till he saw it in the hands of Mr. Adair.
David Cassady, who assisted Mr. R. Perreau as an apothecary, deposed that he lived much within the profits of his profession, and that it was reported he was going into the banking business.
John Leigh, clerk to Sir John Fielding, swore to the prisoner’s coming voluntarily to the office before his apprehension, and giving information that a forgery had been committed. Mr. Leigh was asked if Mrs. Rudd “ever charged the prisoner with any knowledge of the transaction till the justices were hearing evidence to prove her confession of the fact;” and he answered that he did not recollect that circumstance, but that on her first examination she did not accuse the prisoner.
Mr. Perreau now called several persons of rank to his character. Lady Lyttleton being asked if she thought him capable of such a crime, supposed she could have done it as soon herself. Sir John Moore, Sir John Chapman, General Rebow, Captain Ellis, Captain Burgoyne, and other gentlemen, spoke most highly to the character of the prisoner; but the jury found him guilty.
It will be unnecessary now to give anything more than a succinct account of the trial of Daniel Perreau, which immediately followed that of his brother. He was indicted for forging and counterfeiting a bond, in the name of William Adair, for three thousand three hundred pounds, to defraud the said William Adair, and for uttering the same knowing it to be forged, to defraud Thomas Brooke, doctor of physic. Mr. Scroope Ogilvie, clerk to Mr. William Adair, proved the forgery; and Dr. Brooke swore to the uttering of the bond.