The army of rebels made the best of their way now to Glasgow, where they levied contributions, and thence to Stirling, which was in possession of the English, and was commanded by the gallant General Blakeney. The gates could not be defended, and they therefore marched in, and summoned the garrison to surrender; but the veteran commander answered that “he would perish in its ruins rather than make terms with rebels.” In the river of the town were two English men-of-war; and the rebels, in order to prevent their going farther up, erected a battery, but the ships soon destroyed it, and caused them to retreat a mile, where they erected another, but did little execution. They now prepared for a vigorous attack upon the castle, got some heavy pieces of ordnance across the Forth, erected a battery against it, and called in all their forces. General Blakeney fired upon them, and repeatedly drove them from their works. General Hawley, in aid of his brother general, at the head of such troops as he could form in order of battle, marched to attempt to raise the siege; but the rebels made a desperate attack, and, aided by accident, obtained the advantage. Repeated skirmishes subsequently took place, but at length this system of warfare, so destructive to the general state of the country, was terminated by the decisive victory gained by the Duke of Cumberland, at the head of the Royal forces, at the battle of Culloden. The Pretender, at the head of his army, opposed the Duke, and the following, taken from the London Gazette, is the conqueror’s account of the battle:—

“On Tuesday the 15th of April the rebels burnt Fort Augustus, which convinced us of their resolution to stand an engagement with the King’s troops. We gave our men a day’s halt at Nairn, and on the 16th marched from thence, between four and five, in four columns. The three lines of foot (reckoning the reserve for one) were broken into three from the right, which made the three columns equal, and each of five battalions. The artillery and baggage followed the first column upon the right, and the cavalry made the fourth column on the left. After we had marched about eight miles, our advanced guard, composed of about forty of Kingston’s, and the Highlanders, led by the quarter-master-general, perceived the rebels at some distance, making a motion towards us on the left, upon which we immediately formed; but finding the rebels were still a good way from us, we put ourselves again upon our march in our former posture, and continued it to within a mile of them, where we formed in the same order as before. After reconnoitring their situation, we found them posted behind some old walls and huts, in a line with Culloden House. As we thought our right entirely secure, General Hawley and General Bland went to the left with two regiments of dragoons, to endeavour to fall upon the right flank of the rebels; and Kingston’s horse was ordered to the reserve. The ten pieces of cannon were disposed, two in each of the intervals of the first line; and all our Highlanders (except 140, which were upon the left with General Hawley, and who behaved extremely well) were left to guard the baggage. When we were advanced within 500 yards of the rebels, we found the morass upon our right was ended, which left our right flank quite uncovered to them; his Royal Highness thereupon immediately ordered Kingston’s horse from the reserve, and a little squadron of about sixty of Cobham’s, which had been patrolling, to cover our flank. We spent about half an hour after that, trying which should gain the flank of the other; and his Royal Highness having sent Lord Bury forward within a hundred yards of the rebels, to reconnoitre something that appeared like a battery to us, they thereupon began firing their cannon, which was extremely ill-pointed and ill-served; ours answered them, which began their confusion. They then came running on, in their wild manner, and upon the right, where his Royal Highness had placed himself, imagining the greatest push would be there, they came down three several times within a yard of our men, firing their pistols, and brandishing their swords; but the Royals and Pulteney’s hardly took their firelocks from their shoulders, so that after those first attempts they made off, and the little squadrons on our right were sent to pursue them. General Hawley had, by the help of our Highlanders, beat down two little stone walls, and came in upon the right flank of their second line. As their whole body came down to attack at once, their right somewhat outflanked Burrel’s regiment, which was our left; and the greatest part of the little loss we sustained was there; but Bligh’s and Sempil’s giving a fire upon those who had outflanked Burrel’s, soon repulsed them; and Burrel’s regiment, and the left of Monro’s, fairly beat them with their bayonets. There was scarce a soldier or officer of Burrel’s, and of that part of Monro’s which engaged, who did not kill one or two men each with their bayonets and spontoons.[8] The cavalry, which had charged from the right and left, met in the centre, except two squadrons of dragoons, which we missed, and they were gone in pursuit of the runaways. Lord Ancram was ordered to pursue with the horse as far as he could; and did it with so good effect that a very considerable number was killed in the pursuit. As we were on our march to Inverness, and were nearly arrived there, Major-General Bland sent the annexed papers, which he received from the French officers and soldiers, surrendering themselves prisoners to his Royal Highness. Major-General Bland had also made great slaughter, and took about fifty French officers and soldiers prisoners in his pursuit. By the best calculation that can be made, it is thought the rebels lost two thousand men upon the field of battle and in the pursuit. We have here one hundred and twenty-two French and three hundred and twenty-six rebel prisoners. Lieutenant-Colonel Howard killed an officer, who appeared to be Lord Strathallan, by the seal and different commissions from the Pretender found in his pocket. It is said Lord Perth, Lords Nairn, Lochiel, Keppock, and Appin Stuart, are also killed. All their artillery and ammunition were taken, as well as the Pretender’s, and all their baggage. There were also twelve colours taken. All the generals, officers, and soldiers, did their utmost duty in his Majesty’s service, and showed the greatest zeal and bravery on this occasion. The Pretender’s son, it is said, lay at Lord Lovat’s house at Aird the night after the action. Brigadier Mordaunt is detached with nine hundred volunteers this morning into the Frasers’ country, to attack all the rebels he may find there. Lord Sutherland’s and Lord Reay’s people continue to exert themselves, and have taken upwards of one hundred rebels, who are sent for; and there is great reason to believe Lord Cromartie and his son are also taken. The Monroes have killed fifty of the rebels in their flight. As it is not known where the greatest bodies of them are, or which way they have taken in their flight, his Royal Highness has not yet determined which way to march. On the 17th, as his Royal Highness was at dinner, three officers, and about sixteen of Fitz-James’s regiment, who were mounted, came and surrendered themselves prisoners. The killed, wounded, and missing, of the King’s troops, amount to above three hundred. The French officers will be all sent to Carlisle, till his Majesty’s pleasure shall be known. The rebels, by their own accounts, make their loss greater by two thousand men than we have stated it. Four of their principal ladies are in custody, viz. Lady Ogilvie, Lady Kinloch, Lady Gordon, and the Laird of M‘Intosh’s wife. Major Grant, the governor of Inverness, is retaken, and the Generals Hawley, Lord Albemarle, Huske, and Bland, have orders to inquire into the reasons for his surrendering of Fort George. Lord Cromartie, Lord M‘Leod his son, with other prisoners, are just brought in from Sutherland, by the Hound sloop, which his Royal Highness has sent for them; and they are just now landing.”

Soon after this affair, several other rebel chiefs were taken into custody; and on the 28th July 1746, at about eight o’clock in the morning, the rebel lords were taken from the Tower to Westminster Hall, to be tried by their peers. The Earl of Kilmarnock and the Earl of Cromartie pleaded guilty; but Lord Balmerino having denied the offence imputed to him, six witnesses were called, by whom his guilt was clearly established, and a verdict was returned accordingly. On the 1st August the peers were brought up for judgment, when the Lord High Steward pronounced sentence of death, in terms very like those used in the case of Earl Cowper, after the former rebellion.

Great interest being exerted to save the earls, it was hinted to Balmerino that his friends ought to exert themselves in his behalf; to which, with great magnanimity, he only replied: “I am very indifferent about my own fate; but had the two noble earls been my friends, they would have squeezed my name in among theirs.”

The Countess of Cromartie, who had a very large family of young children, was incessant in her applications for the pardon of her husband; to obtain which she took a very plausible method: she procured herself to be introduced to the late Princess of Wales, attended by her children in mourning, and urged her suit in the most suppliant terms. The princess had at that time several children. Such an argument could scarcely fail to move; and a pardon was granted to Lord Cromartie on the condition that he should never reside north of the river Trent. This condition was literally complied with; and his lordship died in Soho-square in the year 1766.

On the 18th of August 1746, at six o’clock in the morning, a troop of life-guards, one of horse-grenadiers, and one thousand of the foot-guards, marched from the parade in St. James’s Park, through the city to Tower-hill, to attend the execution of the Earl of Kilmarnock and Lord Balmerino; and being arrived there, were posted in lines from the Tower to the scaffold, and all round it. About eight o’clock the sheriffs of London, with their under-sheriffs and officers, met at the Mitre tavern, in Fenchurch-street, where they breakfasted; and went from thence to the house lately the Transport Office, Tower-hill, where they remained until the necessary preparations for the execution were made. At eleven o’clock they demanded the bodies of the peers of the constable of the Tower, and they were directly brought forth in procession, followed by mourning-coaches and two hearses.

The lords were conducted into separate apartments in the house, facing the steps of the scaffold, their friends being admitted to see them. The Earl of Kilmarnock was attended by the Rev. Mr. Foster, a dissenting minister, and the Rev. Mr. Hume, a near relation of the Earl of Hume. The chaplain of the Tower and another clergyman of the church of England accompanied the Lord Balmerino. The latter, on entering the door of the house, hearing several of the spectators ask eagerly, “Which is Lord Balmerino?” answered, smiling, “I am Lord Balmerino, gentlemen, at your service.” The parlour and passage of the house, the rails enclosing the way from thence to the scaffold, and the rails about it, were all hung with black at the sheriffs’ expense. Lord Kilmarnock, in the apartment allotted to him, spent about an hour in his devotions with Mr. Foster, who assisted him with prayer and exhortation. After which, Lord Balmerino, pursuant to his request, was admitted to confer with the earl.

After a short conversation relating to some report as to the Pretender’s orders at the battle of Culloden, they separated, the Lord Balmerino saluting the noble earl with the same high-minded courtesy which had been before remarked in him. The Earl of Kilmarnock then joined in prayer with those around him, and afterwards he took some refreshment. He expressed a wish that Lord Balmerino should go to the scaffold first; but being informed that this was impossible, as he was named first in the warrant, he immediately acquiesced in the arrangement which had been made, and with his friends proceeded to the place of execution. There was an immense crowd collected, and on their seeing him they exhibited the greatest commiseration and pity. The earl being struck with the variety of dreadful objects which presented themselves to him at once, exclaimed to Mr. Hume, “This is terrible!” but he exhibited no sign of fear, nor did he even change countenance or tremble in his voice. After putting up a short prayer, concluding with a petition for his majesty King George and the royal family, his lordship embraced and took leave of his friends. The executioner was so affected by the awfulness of the scene, that on his asking pardon of the prisoner, he burst into tears. The noble earl, however, bid him take courage, and presenting him with five guineas, told him that he would drop his handkerchief as a signal to him to strike. He then proceeded, with the help of his gentlemen, to make ready for the block, by taking off his coat, and the bag from his hair, which was then tucked up under a napkin cap. His neck being laid bare, tucking down the collar of his shirt and waistcoat, he kneeled down on a black cushion at the block, and drew his cap over his eyes; and in doing this, as well as in putting up his hair, his hands were observed to shake. Either to support himself, or for a more convenient posture of devotion, he happened to lay both his hands upon the block, which the executioner observing, prayed his lordship to let them fall, lest they should be mangled or break the blow. He was then told that the neck of his waistcoat was in the way, upon which he rose, and with the help of a friend, took it off; and the neck being made bare to the shoulders, he kneeled down as before. In the mean time, when all things were ready for the execution, and the black baize which hung over the rails of the scaffold had, by direction of the colonel of the guard, or the sheriffs, been turned up, that the people might see all the circumstances of the execution, in about two minutes after he kneeled down, his lordship dropped his handkerchief, and the executioner at once severed his head from his body, except only a small part of the skin, which was immediately divided by a gentle stroke. The head was received in a piece of red baize, and, with the body, immediately put into the coffin. The scaffold was then cleared from the blood, fresh sawdust strewed, and that no appearance of a former execution might remain, the executioner changed such of his clothes as appeared bloody.

While this was doing, the Lord Balmerino, after having solemnly recommended himself to the mercy of the Almighty, conversed cheerfully with his friends, refreshed himself twice with a bit of bread and a glass of wine, and desired the company to drink to him, acquainting them that “he had prepared a speech, which he should read on the scaffold, and therefore should now say nothing of its contents.” The under-sheriff coming into his lordship’s apartment to let him know the stage was ready, he prevented him by immediately asking if the affair was over with the Lord Kilmarnock; and being answered, “It is,” he inquired how the executioner had performed his office. Upon receiving the account, he said it was well done; and then, addressing himself to the company, said, “Gentlemen, I shall detain you no longer;” and with an easy unaffected cheerfulness, saluted his friends, and hastened to the scaffold, which he mounted with so unconstrained an air as astonished the spectators. His lordship was dressed in his regimentals, (a blue coat turned up with red, trimmed with brass buttons,) the same which he wore at the battle of Culloden. No circumstance in his whole deportment showed the least sign of fear or regret; and he frequently reproved his friends for discovering either upon his account. He walked several times round the scaffold, bowed to the people, went to his coffin, read the inscription, and, with a nod, said, “It is right.” He then examined the block, which he called his “pillow of rest.” His lordship, putting on his spectacles, and taking a paper out of his pocket, read it with an audible voice: but so far from its being filled with passionate invectives, it mentioned his majesty as a prince of the greatest magnanimity and mercy, at the same time that, through erroneous political principles, it denied him a right to the allegiance of his people. Having delivered this paper to the sheriff, he called for the executioner, and on his being about to ask his lordship’s pardon, he said, “Friend, you need not ask me forgiveness, the execution of your duty is commendable.” Upon this his lordship gave him three guineas, saying. “I never was rich; this is all the money I have now; I wish it was more, and I am sorry I can add nothing to it but my coat and waistcoat;” which he then took off, together with his neckcloth, and threw them on his coffin, putting on a flannel waistcoat which had been provided for the purpose; and then taking a plaid cap out of his pocket, he put it on his head, saying he died a Scotchman. After kneeling down at the block to adjust his posture, and show the executioner the signal for the stroke, which was dropping his arms, he once more gave a farewell look to his friends, and turning round on the crowd, said, “Perhaps some may think my behaviour too bold; but remember, sir, (to a gentleman who stood near him,) that I now declare it is the effect of a confidence in God, and a good conscience; and I should dissemble if I showed any signs of fear.”

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

He afterwards went to the side of the stage and called up the warder, of whom he inquired which was his hearse, and ordered the man to drive near, which was instantly done.

Immediately, without trembling or changing countenance, he again kneeled down at the block, and having, with his arms stretched out, said, “O Lord, reward my friends, forgive my enemies, and receive my soul,” he gave the signal by letting them fall. But his uncommon firmness and intrepidity, with the unexpected suddenness of the signal, so surprised the executioner, that though he struck the part directed, the blow was not given with strength enough to wound him very deeply. It was observed that he moved as if he made an effort to turn his head towards the executioner, and the under jaw fell, and returned very quick, like anger and gnashing the teeth; but this arose from the parts being convulsed, and a second blow immediately succeeding the first, rendered him quite insensible and a third finished the work.

His head was received in a piece of red baize, and, with his body, put into a coffin, which, at his particular request, together with that of the Earl of Kilmarnock, was placed on that of the late Marquis of Tullibardine (who died during his imprisonment,) in St. Peter’s church in the Tower all three lords lying in one grave.

MATTHEW HENDERSON.

EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF HIS MISTRESS, LADY DALRYMPLE.

At the age of fourteen years he was taken into the employment of Sir Hugh Dalrymple, a member of the British parliament, whom he accompanied to London; and it was while in his service that he was guilty of the murder of his mistress. It appears that at the time at which he committed this offence he was in his twentieth year, and having accidentally given offence to his lady, by treading on her toe, she rebuked him in no very gentle manner. Offended by the insult which he conceived he had received, he determined to obtain a deep revenge; and seeking an opportunity, during the absence of his master from London, he proceeded to put his intention into execution by murdering his mistress.

For this offence he was brought to trial at the Old Bailey, on the 22d April 1746, when he pleaded guilty, and was sentenced to be hanged on the following Monday, the 25th of the same month. On the night before his execution he made a confession of his crime, from which the following particulars are taken:—Having called the Almighty to witness the truth of his assertion, he proceeded to enter into a history of his early life, alleging that he had always been well treated by his master and mistress, for whom he entertained the most sincere respect. On the evening of the 25th March 1746, all the other servants having quitted the house, he proceeded to bed in the apartment which was appropriated to his use. He had pulled off his shoes, and had tied up his hair with his garter, when suddenly the thought came into his head that he would kill his mistress. He directly went into the kitchen in search of an instrument to effect his object, and he took a small iron cleaver; but, returning to his chamber, he sat during a period of twenty minutes, considering whether he should commit the murder or not. His heart relented when he remembered that his mistress had been so kind to him; but then he thought that there was no one in the house who could hear him, and he determined upon perpetrating the deed. Impelled by a feeling which he could not control, he rushed up stairs as far as the first landing-place, but there he tarried, and in his alarm returned to his bed-room. Again he felt determined upon the course which he had originally proposed, and again he had ascended the stairs on his way to his mistress’s room, but once more he felt irresolute. To use his own expression, he had now determined not to commit the murder, but “the devil was so busy within him,” that, in an agony of emotion, he was unable to prevail against an inward feeling, which drove him again towards his lady’s room. Once he retired,—but once again he advanced,—and he had now reached the door, by which only he was separated from the object upon which he was about to commit the foul crime, of which in the sequel he was guilty. Had that door been locked all would have been well,—but no, the latch turned easily in his hand, and he stood within a yard of his victim. Still he could not kill her, and in trepidation and alarm he crept back as far as the stair-head. Again he felt the devil at work, and once more he was driven onwards to his fate. He entered the room a second time, and could distinctly hear the respirations of the unfortunate lady; he opened the curtains softly, and fancied he could see the outline of her figure. Had he had a light, he was convinced he could never have killed her. At length, however, urged by an irresistible impulse, he raised the cleaver, and yet, hesitating, he made as many as thirteen or fourteen motions in the air before he could determine to strike her,—but then he let the murderous instrument fall with redoubled force upon her head. The unhappy lady attempted to escape, but without effect, for he followed up the frightful wound which he had first inflicted with others still more dreadful, until at last she sunk exhausted on the floor and died. The only words which he heard her utter were—“Oh Lord! what is this?” And when she died, she rattled very much in the throat. He was so alarmed at this that he ran down stairs, and threw the chopper in the privy; and when he had returned to his own room, the thought struck him that he would rob the house. The idea had no sooner entered his head than he resolved to put it into execution, and, striking a light, he returned to his mistress’s room. He took away some articles of jewellery from the drawers; but while he was occupied in finding them, he fancied that he heard the death-rattle still in his lady’s throat, and he would have given the world to have been able to recal what had passed.

When he had purloined all that he thought was of any value, he ran out of the house; and as he passed through Holborn, he heard the watchman cry “Past one o’clock,” from which he knew that it was more than an hour since he had first contemplated the murder. He concealed the articles which he had stolen in the lodgings of a female of his acquaintance, and returned home; but on his arrival at the door he found that he had shut himself out. He waited until the maid-servant came at six o’clock in the morning, and then, on their entering the house, appearances were perceptible, which induced the girl to suppose that there had been some strangers in the house. On her going up stairs she found that her mistress had been murdered, and she directly conveyed information of the circumstance to the police, when Henderson being at once suspected, he was taken into custody, and confessed his guilt.

The sentence was carried out in its terms; and the body of the wretched young man, after execution, was hung in chains in the Edgeware-road.

CHARLES RATCLIFFE, ESQ.

EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.

LORD LOVAT.

BEHEADED FOR HIGH TREASON.

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

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

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

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

On the morning fixed for his execution, 9th April 1747, Lord Lovat, who was now in his 80th year, and very large and unwieldy in his person, awoke at about three o’clock, and was heard to pray with great devotion. At five o’clock he arose, and asked for a glass of wine and water, and at eight o’clock, he desired that his wig might be sent, that the barber might have time to comb it out genteelly, and he then provided himself with a purse to hold the money which he intended for the executioner. At about half-past nine o’clock he ate heartily of minced veal, and ordered that his friends might be provided with coffee and chocolate, and at eleven o’clock the sheriff’s came to demand his body. He then requested his friends to retire while he said a short prayer; but he soon called them back, and said that he was ready.

At the bottom of the first pair of stairs, General Williamson invited him into his room to rest himself, which he did, and, on his entrance, paid his respects to the company politely, and talked freely. He desired of the general, in French, that he might take leave of his lady, and thank her for her civilities; but the general told his lordship, in the same language, that she was too much affected with his lordship’s misfortunes to bear the shock of seeing him, and therefore hoped his lordship would excuse her. He then took his leave, and proceeded. At the door he bowed to the spectators, and was conveyed from thence to the outer gate in the governor’s coach, where he was delivered to the sheriffs, who conducted him in another coach to the house near the scaffold, in which was a room lined with black cloth, and hung with sconces, for his reception. His friends were at first denied entrance; but, upon application made by his lordship to the sheriffs for their admittance, it was granted. Soon after, his lordship, addressing himself to the sheriffs, thanked them for the favour, and, taking a paper out of his pocket, delivered it to one of them, saying he should make no speech, and that they might give the word of command when they pleased. A gentleman present beginning to read a prayer to his lordship while he was sitting, he called one of the warders to help him up, that he might kneel. He then prayed silently a short time, and afterwards sat again in his chair. Being asked by one of the sheriffs if he would refresh himself with a glass of wine, he declined it, because no warm water could be had to mix with it, and took a little burnt brandy and bitters in its stead. He requested that his clothes might be delivered to his friends with his corpse, and said for that reason he should give the executioner ten guineas. He also desired of the sheriffs that his head might be received in a cloth, and put into the coffin, which the sheriffs, after conferring with some gentlemen present, promised should be done; as also that the holding up the head at the corners of the scaffold should be dispensed with, as it had been of late years at the execution of lords. When his lordship was going up the steps to the scaffold, assisted by two warders, he looked round, and, seeing so great a concourse of people, “God save us,” says he, “why should there be such a bustle about taking off an old grey head, that cannot get up three steps without three bodies to support it?”

Turning about, and observing one of his friends much dejected, he clapped him on the shoulder, saying, “Cheer up thy heart, man! I am not afraid; why should you be so?” As soon as he came upon the scaffold, he asked for the executioner, and presented him with ten guineas in a purse, and then, desiring to see the axe, he felt the edge, and said, “he believed it would do.” Soon after, he rose from the chair which was placed for him, and looked at the inscription on his coffin, and on sitting down again, he repeated from Horace,

and afterwards from Ovid,

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

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

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

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

FRANCIS TOWNLEY, JAMES DAWSON, AND OTHERS.

EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.

These offenders were hanged on Kennington Common. They had not hung above five minutes when Townley was cut down, being yet alive: and his body being placed on the block, the executioner chopped off his head with a cleaver. His heart and bowels were then taken out, and thrown into the fire; and the other parties being separately treated in the same manner, the executioner cried out, “God save King George!”

The bodies were quartered, and delivered to the keepers of the New Jail, who buried them: the heads of some of the parties were sent to Carlisle and Manchester, where they were exposed; but those of Townley and another were fixed on Temple Bar, and after remaining some time, fell down.

It would be useless to attempt to enumerate the other persons whose crimes and misfortunes at this time consigned them to the gibbet; but some account of the escape of the Pretender may not be uninteresting. It would appear that the battle of Culloden having decided the fate of his cause, where the Pretender had his horse shot under him by one of the king’s troopers as he was endeavouring to rally his soldiers, he retired to the house of a factor of Lord Lovat, at about ten miles from Inverness, where he met with that lord and supped with him. After supper he started on his journey to Fort Augustus, and next day went on to Invergarry. A boy, whom he found there caught him a salmon and he dined, and afterwards waited for some of his troops, who had promised to meet him there. Being disappointed, however, in his object, he proceeded to Lockharciage, and he arrived there on the 18th of April, at about two in the morning, and slept, but at five he set out on foot, and travelled through the Glen of Morar, where he arrived at four the next morning. He reached Arrashag in twelve hours after, and was there joined by Captain O’Neil on the 27th, who informed him that his cause was hopeless, and recommended him, therefore, to sail at once for France. One Donald M‘Leod was engaged to hire a ship, and on the 28th the Chevalier went on board an eight-oared boat, in company with Sullivan and O’Neil, ordering the people who belonged to the boat to make the best haste they could to Stornoway, where it was proposed they should take ship. The night proving very tempestuous, they all begged of him to go back, which he would not do; but to keep up the spirits of the people, he sang them a Highland song. The weather growing worse and worse, about seven in the morning of the 29th, they were driven on shore on a point of land called Rushness, in the island of Benbecula, where, when they got on shore, the Pretender helped to make a fire to warm the crew, who were almost starved to death with cold. On the 30th, at six in the evening, they set sail again for Stornoway, but meeting with another storm, were obliged to put into the island of Scalpa, in the Harris, where they all went on shore to a farmer’s house, passing for merchants that were shipwrecked in their voyage to the Orkneys: the Pretender and Sullivan going by the name of Sinclair, the latter passing for the father, and the former for his son. They thought proper to send from thence to Stornoway, with instructions to freight a ship for the Orkneys; and on the 3d of May they received a message that a ship was ready. On the 4th they set out for that place, where they arrived on the 5th about noon, but meeting with their messenger, Donald M‘Leod, they found that he had got into company, and told a friend of his for whom he had hired the ship; upon which there were two hundred people in arms at Stornoway, upon a report that the Pretender was landed with five hundred men, and was coming to burn the town; so that they were obliged to lie all night upon the moor, with no other refreshment than biscuit and brandy. On the 6th they resolved to go in the eight-oared boat to the Orkneys; but the crew refused to venture, so that they were obliged to steer south along the coast-side, where they met with two English ships; and this compelled them to put into a desert island, where they remained till the 10th, without any provision but some salt fish they found upon the place. About ten in the morning of that day they embarked for the Harris, and at break of day on the 11th they were chased by an English vessel, but made their escape among the rocks. About four in the afternoon they arrived on the island of Benbecula, where they remained till the 14th, and then they set out for the mountain of Currada, in South Uist, where they staid till the militia of the Isle of Skye came to the island of Irasky. They now sailed for the island of Uia, where they remained three nights, till, having intelligence that the militia were coming towards Benbecula, they immediately got into their boat, and sailed for Lochbusdale. Being met, however, by some ships of war, they were obliged to return to Lochagnart, and at night sailed for Lochbusdale; upon arriving at which place they staid eight days on a rock, making a tent of the sail of the boat. They found themselves here in a most dreadful situation; for, having intelligence that Captain Scott had landed at Kilbride, they were obliged to separate, and the Pretender and O’Neil went to the mountains, where they remained all night, and soon after were informed that General Campbell was at Bernary; so that now they had forces very near on both sides of them, and were absolutely at a loss which way to move. In their road they met with a young lady, one Miss M‘Donald, to whom Captain O’Neil proposed assisting the Pretender to make his escape, which at first she refused; but, upon his offering to put on women’s clothes, she consented, and desired them to go to the mountain of Currada till she sent for them. They accordingly there staid two days; but hearing nothing from the young lady, the Pretender concluded she would not keep her word, and therefore resolved to send Captain O’Neil to General Campbell, to let him know he was willing to surrender to him; but about five o’clock in the evening a message came from the young lady, desiring them to meet her at Rushness. Being afraid to pass by the Ford, because of the militia, they luckily found a boat, which carried them to the other side of Uia, where they remained part of the next day, afraid of being seen by the country people. In the evening they set out for Rushness, and arrived there at twelve at night; but not finding the young lady, and being alarmed by a boat full of militia, they were obliged to retire two miles back, where the Pretender remained on a moor till O’Neil went to the young lady, and prevailed upon her to come to the place appointed at night-fall of the next day. About an hour after, they had an account of General Campbell’s arrival at Benbecula, which obliged them to move to another part of the island, where, as the day broke, they discovered four sail close on the shore, making directly up to the place where they were; so that there was nothing left for them but to throw themselves among the heath. When the wherries were gone, they resolved to go to Clanronald’s house; but when they were within a mile of it, they heard General Campbell was there, which forced them to, retreat again. The young Pretender having at length, with the assistance of Captain O’Neil, found Miss M‘Donald in a cottage near the place appointed, it was there determined that he should put on women’s clothes and pass for her waiting-maid. This being done, he took leave of Sullivan and O’Neil with great regret, who departed to shift for themselves, leaving him and his new mistress in the cottage, where they continued some days, during which she cured him of the itch. Upon intelligence that General Campbell was gone further into the country, they removed to her cousin’s, and spent the night in preparing for their departure to the Isle of Skye: and they set out the next morning for that place, with only one man-servant, named M‘Lean, and two rowers. During their voyage they were pursued by a small vessel; but a thick fog rising, they arrived safe at midnight in that island, and landed at the foot of a rock, where the lady and her maid waited while her man M‘Lean went to see if Sir Alexander M‘Donald was at home. M‘Lean found his way thither, but lost it in returning; and his mistress and her maid, after in vain expecting him the whole night, were obliged in the morning to leave the rock, and go in the boat up the creek to some distance, to avoid the militia which guarded the coast. They went on shore again about ten o’clock, and, attended by the rowers, inquired the way to Sir Alexander’s. When they had gone about two miles, they met M‘Lean; and he told his lady that Sir Alexander was with the Duke of Cumberland, but his lady was at home, and would do them all the service she could. They then immediately discharged their boat, and went directly to the house, where they remained two days, being always in her ladyship’s chamber, except at night, to prevent a discovery. But a party of the M‘Leods, having intelligence that some strangers were arrived at Sir Alexander’s, and knowing his lady to be well affected to the Pretender, came thither, and demanding to see the new-comers, were introduced to Miss’s chamber, where she sat with her new maid. The latter, hearing the militia were at the door, had the presence of mind to get up and open it, which occasioned his being the less noticed; and after they had narrowly searched the chests, they withdrew. The inquiry, however, alarmed the young lady, and the next day she sent her apparent maid to a steward of Sir Alexander’s: but hearing that his being in the island was known, he removed to Macdonald’s, at Kingsborough, ten miles distant, where he remained but one day; for on receiving intelligence that it was rumoured that he was disguised in a woman’s habit, Macdonald furnished him with a suit of his own clothes, and he went in a boat to M‘Leod’s at Raza. No prospect of escaping to France, however, presented itself there, and he returned to the Isle of Skye, being thirty miles, with no attendant but a ferryman, M‘Leod assuring him that the elder Laird of Mackinnon would there render him all the service in his power. On his reaching M‘Kinnon’s, the old man instantly knew him, and advised him to go to Lochaber; and he accordingly proceeded thither in a vessel procured for that purpose. M‘Donald, at the head of one hundred resolute Highlanders, then appeared to assist him, and after roving about with them from place to place, he at length removed to Badenoch. He was there very much harassed by the King’s troops, and losing many of his men in the skirmishes which daily took place, they were at length obliged to disperse; and the Pretender, with Lochiel of Barrisdale and some others, skulked about in Moidart. Here they received information that two French privateers were at anchor in Lochnanaugh, in one of which, L’Heureux, this unfortunate prince eventually embarked, with twenty-three gentlemen, and one hundred and seven soldiers, and soon after arrived safely in France.

WILLIAM YORK,

AGED TEN YEARS, CONVICTED OF MURDERING SUSAN MAHEW, AGED FIVE YEARS.

BENJAMIN TAPNER, JOHN COBBY, JOHN HAMMOND, RICHARD MILLS, RICHARD MILLS THE YOUNGER, AND OTHERS.

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

WE do not recollect ever to have heard of a case exhibiting greater brutality on the part of the murderers towards their victim than this. The offenders were all smugglers, and the unfortunate objects of their crime were a custom-house officer, and a shoemaker, named respectively William Galley and Daniel Chater. It would appear that a daring and very extensive robbery having been committed at the custom-house at Poole, Galley and Chater were sent to Stanstead in Sussex, to give some information to Major Battine, a magistrate, in reference to the circumstance. They did not, however, return to their homes, and on inquiry, it turned out that they had been brutally murdered, the body of Galley being traced, by means of bloodhounds, to be buried, while that of Chater was discovered at a distance of six miles, in a well in Harris’ Wood, near Leigh, in Lady Holt’s Park, covered up with a quantity of stones, wooden railings, and earth.

At a special commission held at Chichester, on the 16th of January 1749, the prisoners Benjamin Tapner, John Cobby, John Hammond, William Carter, Richard Mills the elder, and Richard Mills the younger, were indicted for the murder of Daniel Chater; the three first as principals, and the others as accessories before the fact; and William Jackson and William Carter were indicted for the murder of William Galley.

From the evidence adduced, the circumstances of this most horrid murder were proved, and it appeared that the two deceased persons having passed Havant on their road to Stanstead, went to the New Inn at Leigh, where they met one Austin, and his brother and brother-in-law, of whom they asked the road, and they conducted them to Rowland’s Castle, where, they said, they might obtain better information. They went into the White Hart, and Mrs. Payne, the landlady, suspecting the object of their mission, sent for the prisoners Jackson and Carter, and they were soon after joined by some others of the gang. After they had been all sitting together, Carter called Chater out, and demanded to know where Diamond, one of those suspected of the robbery, was? Chater replied that he was in custody, and that he was going against his will to give evidence against him. Galley, following them into the yard, was knocked down by Carter, on his calling Chater away, and they then returned in-doors. The smugglers now pretended to be sorry for what had occurred, and desired Galley to drink some rum, and they persisted in plying him and Chater with liquor until they were both intoxicated. They were then persuaded to lie down and sleep, and a letter to Major Battine, of which they were the bearers, was taken from them, read, and destroyed.

One John Royce, a smuggler, now came in, and Jackson and Carter told him the contents of the letter, and said that they had got the old rogue, the shoemaker of Fording-bridge, who was going to inform against John Diamond, the shepherd, then in custody at Chichester. Here William Steele proposed to take them both to a well about two hundred yards from the house, and to murder and throw them in; but this was rejected, and after several propositions had been made as to the mode in which they should be disposed of, the scene of cruelty was commenced by Jackson, who, putting on his spurs, jumped upon the bed where they lay, and spurred their foreheads, and then whipped them; so that they both got up bleeding. The smugglers then took them out of the house, and Mills swore he would shoot any one who followed or said anything of what had occurred.

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

Upon placing them again in the saddle, the villains found them so weak that they could not sit; upon which they separated them, and put Galley before Steele, and Chater before little Sam; and then whipped Galley so severely, that, the lashes coming upon Steele, at his desire they desisted. They then went to Harris’-well, and threatened to throw Galley in; but when he desired that they would put an end to his misery at once, “No,” said Jackson, “if that’s the case, we have something more to say to you;” and they thereupon put him on the horse again, and whipped him over the Downs until he was so weak that he fell off. They next laid him across the horse, and little Sam, getting up behind him, subjected him to such cruelty as made him groan with the most excruciating torments, and he fell off again. Being again put up astride, Richards got up behind him; but the poor man soon cried out, “I fall, I fall,” and Richards pushed him with force, saying, “Fall, and be d—d!” The unhappy man then turned over and expired; and they threw the body over the horse, and carried it off with them to the house of one Scardefield, who kept the Red Lion at Rake. The landlord remarking the condition of Chater, and Galley’s body, the fellows told him that they had engaged with some officers, had lost their tea, and that some of them were wounded, if not dead. This was sufficient, and Jackson and Carter carried Chater down to the house of the elder Mills, where they chained him up in a turf-house. Their companions, in the mean time, drank gin and brandy at Scardefield’s, and it being now nearly dark, they borrowed spades, and a candle and lantern, and making him assist them in digging a hole, they buried the body of the murdered officer. They then separated; but on the Thursday they met again with some more of their associates, including the prisoners Richard Mills, and his two sons Richard and John, Thomas Stringer, Cobby, Tapner, and Hammond, for the purpose of deliberating what should be done with their prisoner. It was soon unanimously resolved that he must be destroyed, and it was determined that they should take him to Harris’-well and throw him in, as it was considered that that death would be most likely to cause him the greatest pain.

During this time the wretched man was in a state of the utmost horror and misery, being visited occasionally by all his tormentors, who abused him, and beat him violently. At last, when this determination had been arrived at, they all went, and Tapner pulling out a clasp-knife, ordered him on his knees, swearing that he would be his butcher; but being dissuaded from this, as being opposed to their plan to prolong the miseries of their prisoner, he contented himself with slashing the knife across his eyes, almost cutting them out, and completely severing the gristle of his nose. They then placed him upon a horse, and all set out together for Harris’-well, except Mills and his sons, they having no horses ready, and saying, in excuse, “that there were enough without them to murder one man.” All the way Tapner whipped him till the blood came; and then swore that if he blooded the saddle, he would torture him the more. When they were come within one hundred yards of the well, Jackson and Carter stopped, saying to Tapner, Cobby, Stringer, Steele, and Hammond, “Go on and do your duty on Chater, as we have ours upon Galley.” It was in the dead of the night that they brought their victim to the well, which was nearly thirty feet deep, but dry, and paled close round; and Tapner having fastened a noose round his neck, they bade him get over the pales. He was going through a broken place; but though he was covered with blood and fainting with the anguish of his wounds, they forced him to climb up, having the rope about his neck. They then tied one end of the cord to the pales and pushed him over the brink; but the rope being short, he hung no farther within it than his thighs, and leaning against the edge, he hung above a quarter of an hour and was not strangled. They then untied him, and threw him head foremost into the well. They tarried some time, and hearing him groan, they determined to go to one William Comleah’s, a gardener, to borrow a rope and ladder, saying they wanted to relieve one of their companions who had fallen into Harris’-well. He said they might take them; but they could not manage the ladder in their confusion, it being a long one. They then returned to the well; and still hearing him groan, and fearful that the sound might lead to a discovery, the place being near the road, they threw upon him some of the rails and gate-posts fixed about the well, as well as some great stones; and then finding him silent, they left him. Their next consultation was how to dispose of their horses; and they killed Galley’s, which was grey, and taking his hide off, cut it into small pieces, and hid them so as to prevent any discovery; but a bay horse that Chater had ridden on got from them.

This being the evidence produced, the jury, after being out of court about a quarter of an hour, brought in a verdict of guilty against all the prisoners: whereupon the judge pronounced sentence on the convicts in a most pathetic address, representing the enormity of their crime, and exhorting them to make immediate preparation for the awful fate that awaited them; adding, “Christian charity obliges me to tell you that your time in this world will be very short.”

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

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

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