T H E
C H R O N I C L E S   O F   C R I M E,
OR,
THE NEW NEWGATE CALENDAR.

THOMAS BROCK, JOHN PELHAM, AND MICHAEL POWER,

CONVICTED OF COINING.

The legislature, with the intention of stimulating the exertions of police-officers, and inducing others to give information, had awarded certain rewards to the parties who should contribute to the conviction of offenders against the laws. The object was laudable, but it was capable of great perversion, and was liable to many objections; it gave the prosecutor an interest in the conviction of the accused, and on that account tended to impress the public with the belief that the condemnation, and not the acquittal of the prisoner, was the object of our criminal laws. It was too true that “blood money,” as this species of remuneration was emphatically denominated, did contribute in reality to the evil we allude to. But had not a development of unparalleled villany put scepticism to flight, we could not have brought ourselves to believe that those who were paid to detect crime should be found the most active in seducing innocence and youth to its commission. Yet it is an indubitable fact that, for ten years preceding 1816, victims were brought up, session after session, to be convicted of crimes to which they were seduced by the very men who gave evidence against them, that they might revel on the “blood money,” or make use of it to provide other victims for the law. Several of those connected with the police-offices, particularly the patroles, were detected in this traffic of blood;[A] but only one officer of any note, named Vaughan, was convicted of this most atrocious crime.

The discovery of this diabolical system took place in the course of the trial of three men named Quin, Riorton, and Connolly; it appears that these unfortunate beings were detected in fabricating base shillings and bank tokens, and being brought to trial, they were convicted. During the examination of the witnesses for the prosecution, however, whose names appear at the head of this article, some circumstances came out, which induced a suspicion in the mind of the lord mayor that the prosecutors were in some way mixed up with the guilt of the prisoners. An investigation in consequence took place; but the convicts, on being confronted with their accusers, refused to say anything against them, saying that they were “under an oath.” They were Irishmen and Catholics, and the rigid observance which they pay to an oath is well known; but a priest having at length persuaded them that they were not bound by such an oath administered unlawfully, they disclosed the whole particulars of the plot, and their accusers were in consequence secured.

The three new prisoners were then indicted for their participation in the crime of their dupes, which amounted to high treason; and at the session held on the 25th of September 1816, were brought to trial at the Old Bailey.

A man named Barry then swore that Pelham had applied to him to get some men to make bad shillings, which Power, it was said, could colour. Barry said they must go to the market for them, which was in Cheapside, at the corner of King-street, where poor Irishmen were waiting for employment. Some days after he went with Brock and Power to the market, when Quin and Riorton were engaged by them. Being told they could not be employed unless they would be sworn to secrecy, they took an oath on a piece of paper. A room was hired, and tools procured by the prisoners, and the poor Irishmen were set to work to cut brass into the form of shillings, &c. under the superintendence of Power. Connolly was sent for to assist. He said to Barry, in Irish, “We are doing a job that will hang us all,” to which he replied that if he thought so he would not work another day at it. The Irishmen were then employed in colouring the metal, and everything being in readiness, notice was given, the officers entered, and the Irishmen were seized, tried, and found guilty.

Pelham’s landlady proved that the scissars used by the Irishmen in cutting through brass had been procured by her at Pelham’s request; another woman also swore that the hammer and files taken in the coining room had been sold by her to Brock and Pelham.

Brock, in his defence, declared his innocence. Power denied either going to the market or the room; and Pelham said the Barrys were noted perjurers, and the women were false witnesses.

The jury, without hesitation, however, brought in a verdict of Guilty, and the prisoners were transported.

The three Irishmen were then pardoned; and the lord mayor having interested himself in their behalf, a subscription was opened, and they were enabled to return to their own country, and there to purchase small farms.

GEORGE VAUGHAN, ROBERT MACKEY, AND GEORGE BROWN.

CONVICTED OF A CONSPIRACY.

JOHN CASHMAN

EXECUTED FOR A FELONY COMMITTED AT THE SPAFIELDS’ RIOTS.

In this moment of paramount distress, the evil-minded and the designing, taking advantage of the disposition of the people, and urged by personal considerations, continued those attacks upon the ministry of the country which they had hitherto made without that success which they required, and the people, whose attention was now withdrawn from the object which had hitherto served to keep their minds occupied, were easily led away and persuaded that the dangers and difficulties which appeared to exist were the result of bad management only, and were of a nature likely to be permanent, and most injurious to their well-being. The existence of the evil was attributed to some defects which were pointed out in the representative system; and as this was considered to be the root of the evil, the name of radical (from radix, the Latin word for a root) was given to the persons who espoused these new opinions. The party in itself, both as regarded reputation and numbers, was contemptible to a degree, and the names of a few only who were its leaders will be handed to posterity. Thistlewood, Watson, and Hunt, were the most notorious of these agitators, who, as it will hereafter appear, met with very different fates. Thistlewood was hanged; Watson escaped to America; Hunt, by a most extraordinary circumstance, eventually became a member of parliament.

Englishmen have an undoubted privilege of assembling for the purpose of declaring their grievances and soliciting redress, whether from the sovereign or the parliament, and this liberty afforded the demagogues a good opportunity for inflaming the passions of the deluded, and disseminating their own pernicious opinions. Meetings were held in various parts of the kingdom for the ostensible purpose of petitioning for parliamentary reform, and the metropolis followed the example. When we come to the case of Watson and Thistlewood, we shall enter fully into the atrocious scheme of those who devised many of these meetings, but at present it is necessary to confine ourselves to a detail of facts, which will serve as an illustration of what is to follow.

The first meeting, which may be called the preliminary to the riot, took place November the 15th, 1816, in the Spafields, then a wild uninclosed space. A flag was unfurled bearing the following words:—“Nature to feed the hungry—truth to protect the oppressed—justice to punish offenders.” Hunt attended in consequence of an invitation, and some violent speeches having been made, he was deputed to carry a petition to the Prince Regent. This meeting dissolved, after having passed a resolution to meet at the same place on the 2nd of December, to receive the answer to the petition; but the circulation of some addresses proved that the object of the meeting was not of that peaceful nature which its promoters pretended to ascribe to it. On the day appointed, soon after twelve o’clock, the assemblage of the mob commenced, and in less than half-an-hour about 5000 persons had collected round a party supporting tri-coloured flags, and a banner bearing the inscription—“The brave soldiers are our brothers; treat them kindly,” who had placed themselves within about thirty yards of the field next to Coldbath-fields’ Prison. A cart was found to have been placed on this spot, and in a short time Dr. Watson, his son, and a Mr. Hooper, all carrying tri-coloured cockades in their hats, ascended this rostrum, and were hailed with loud cheers. The doctor and his son then addressed the meeting in most inflammatory speeches; and the latter having wound himself up to a pitch of the most ungovernable fury, called upon the people to follow him, and jumping from his elevated position, he rushed, pistol in hand, at the head of the mob, towards Clerkenwell. The people were under the impression that he was going to lead them to the Mansion-house; but a cry of “Arms” being set up in Smithfield, they rushed down Snow Hill to the shop of Mr. Beckwith, a gun-maker. Young Watson, with five of his followers, immediately entered the shop, the former exclaiming, “Arms, arms, I want arms!” and a Mr. Platt, who was at the door, attempting to arrest his progress, he deliberately shot at him, and wounded him, and then endeavoured to knock him down with the but-end of his weapon. A struggle took place, in which the pistol fell to the ground, and Watson being pushed into the counting-house, and charged by Mr. Platt with having shot him, he cried out, apparently in much alarm, “I am a misled young man—I have been at Spafields—send for a surgeon,—I am a surgeon myself,” and immediately set about dressing the wound in a manner which exhibited his ability to afford the aid which he proffered. A surgeon was, however, procured, and during a quarter of an hour, for which he remained in the counting-house, he repeatedly cried out that he was a misled young man. The mob at first had been under the impression that their leader was killed, and on the report of the pistol, many of them fled, but having caught sight of him in the shop they demanded that he should be restored to liberty. Measures were now taken to secure his person, but the mob being infuriated at his long detention, they burst into the house, and having compelled its inmates to fly for safety, and set their leader at liberty, they proceeded to ransack the premises for arms. Having procured all that the establishment contained, they marched under the guidance of their leader to the Tower, and then while young Watson endeavoured to win the soldiers from their allegiance, by assuring them of the good feeling which prevailed towards them on the part of the people, and that they should receive 100 guineas per man if they would join them, the mob continued to scour the neighbourhood in search of arms. While, however, the great body of the rioters had thus followed in the steps of their leader, others pursued a different direction, and taking St. Giles, St. Clement’s, and the Strand, in their march, despoiled every shop which they approached of such articles as they deemed might be useful to them. The irruption was so sudden, that the means of opposing the proceedings of the rioters could not speedily be obtained. The lord mayor, Sir Matthew Wood, showed great determination; and notwithstanding the most violent proceedings on the part of these fellows, he and Sir James Shaw, the chamberlain, succeeded in securing three of the insurgents, who had entered the Royal Exchange and who were armed with guns.

The military at length appeared, and many of the rioters were secured, while the others, having thrown away their arms, quickly disappeared. Young Watson, however, was nowhere to be found; and it appears that immediately after he quitted the Tower, being alarmed at his position, he hastily returned to his lodgings, and possessing himself of some papers and other articles he went to a public-house in Fetter-lane, where he found his father and Thistlewood. The trio considered themselves as being likely to be taken into custody, and they in consequence quitted London for Northampton immediately. On their arriving at Highgate, however, they were seized on suspicion of being footpads, but a scuffle taking place, the elder Watson alone remained in the hands of their assailants, while his companions effected their escape. Young Watson had the good fortune to reach London again in safety, and his friends having provided him with the means, he sailed directly for America.

Several of the rioters were brought to trial, but John Cashman, a sailor, alone was capitally convicted and punished. There can be no doubt as to the justice of the sentence and punishment inflicted on this man; but it is also equally clear that while he was indubitably guilty of a most gross offence, others were even more culpable, inasmuch as they were actuated by deliberate motives of mischief, while he was goaded on by hunger and misery; and besides, as many believed, was occasionally in some degree affected by symptoms of insanity. It appears that Cashman was one of the most active of the rioters who attacked and demolished Mr. Beckwith’s shop in Skinner-street. Several persons deposed that he frequently brought out bundles of fire-arms and distributed them among the mob in the street, and he was actually apprehended with one of Mr. Beckwith’s guns in his hand, at the Royal Exchange, being one of those seized by the lord-mayor.

For this offence Cashman, with four others, was brought to trial at the Old Bailey, January 20th 1817. The indictment did not charge them with any species of treason, being confined to capital felony only, for stealing the fire-arms, &c., stated to be considerably above the value of two hundred and fifty pounds. The names of the four others were,—John Hooper, R. Gamble, William Gunnell, and John Carpenter. Two of these were apprehended at the same time as Cashman, and under similar circumstances, and the evidence against them all went to implicate them in the crime of felony; but the jury, to the apparent astonishment of the court, acquitted all but Cashman, who was found guilty and sentenced to death.

When asked what he had to say why sentence of death should not be passed on him, he addressed the court as follows:—

“My lord—I hope you will excuse a poor friendless sailor for occupying your time. Had I died fighting the battles of my country, I should have gloried in it; but I confess that it grieves me to think of suffering like a robber, when I call God to witness that I have passed days together without a bit of bread rather than violate the laws. I have served my king for many years, and often fought for my country; I have received nine wounds in the service, and have never before been charged with any offence. I have been at sea all my life, and my father was killed on board the Diana frigate. I came to London, my lord, to endeavour to recover my pay and prize-money, but being unsuccessful I was reduced to the greatest distress; and being poor and penniless, I have not been able to bring witnesses to prove my innocence, or to acquaint my brave officers, or I am sure they would all have come forward on my behalf. The gentlemen who have sworn against me must have mistaken me for some other person, there being many sailors in the mob; but I freely forgive them, and I hope God will also forgive them, for I solemnly declare that I committed no act of violence.”

Wednesday morning, March the 12th 1817, was the time appointed for the execution of this unfortunate man, and to make the dreadful ceremony as awfully impressive as possible, it was ordered that he should suffer in front of Mr. Beckwith’s shop, where the crime for which his life was forfeited had been committed.

After conviction, the unhappy man stated that on the day of the riots he had been to the Admiralty to endeavour to procure the payment of 200l., to which he was entitled for prize-money, and that on his way home he was persuaded by a brother sailor to go to Spafields. On their way they drank a great deal of liquor, and having had but little food during the two preceding days, it had a great effect upon him. He expressed a desire that his prize-money should be given to his brother and mother.

On the morning of the execution great precautions were taken to prevent any disturbance, and troops and constables were placed throughout London to quell any appearance of riot. At eight o’clock Cashman was brought from his cell, and he appeared perfectly composed, but exhibited a great deal of levity. As he passed through the Press Yard, he exclaimed with an oath, that he wished a forty-four pounder would come and cut him in two, rather than he should go into Jack Ketch’s hands.

On his leaving the prison, he bid every one good-bye whom he met, and exhibited great want of feeling. When he arrived at the scaffold the mob expressed great indignation by groans, and hisses, in which he joined; and the executioner having at length completed his preparations, the drop fell in the midst of his abusive exclamations.

JAMES WATSON THE ELDER, JAMES WATSON THE YOUNGER, ARTHUR THISTLEWOOD,
THOMAS PRESTON, AND JOHN HOOPER.

INDICTED FOR HIGH TREASON.

Dr. Watson was first arraigned, and John Castles was the witness called to prove the most material facts against him. He said that he knew the prisoner, and had not had any promise of pardon for giving evidence. He became acquainted with the prisoner about a month before the Spafields meeting, and saw him at the Cock in Grafton-street, where he went to meet a society called the Spenceans. On the following night he met Watson and Preston by appointment at the Mulberry Arms, Moorfields, at a society of the same description; and he there saw present young Watson, Hooper, Thistlewood, the two Evanses, father and son, and one John Harrison. After the meeting broke up, he walked away with the elder Watson, who observed, that it was a very easy matter to upset government, provided a few good fellows would act together. He then said, that he had drawn out a plan that would debar the cavalry from acting, by interrupting the horses, and that he had got several people who had solicited at different houses, and that they had formed a committee which was sitting, to devise the best modes and plans. He inquired where the witness lived, and promised to call the next morning, and show him the plan.

In pursuance of this appointment he called at the lodging of Castles on the following Sunday morning, and produced several papers, one of which was a plan of the Tower, and another a plan of the machine, which he had described on the Thursday before, for obstructing the cavalry. It was to run upon four wheels, with sharp knives, which were to be on each side, and spikes in the middle. The knives were to be something like scythes, and placed horizontally. There were also several other drawings of the Tower-bridge, and different places and entrances about the Tower. “He then,” continued Castles, “asked me how many men I could bring; and how many I knew. I told him I knew a great many, but I did not know whether they would act when put to the test; he begged I would exert myself as much as I could. I told him that I was a smith, and that I had nothing but my little business to live on; but he said never mind that, they would find something better for me than that; they had plenty of money for everything. We then made another appointment, and I met him at one Newton’s. Similar conversation took place there, and he said they had got a committee consisting of five; namely Harrison, Preston, Thistlewood, and his son, and himself; and that I should be made one of the generals, and head a party of pikemen and other men, and that I should hear further in a few days, and might consider myself as one of the committee from that time; that I should make the sixth, and they would not have any more.

“Shortly afterwards I met the elder Watson, and we went to King Street barracks, and across the Park to a small magazine in Hyde Park, where the powder is kept, to examine the whole of the avenues, and determine which was the best place for setting fire to the barracks. There was also one Skinner with us, but he left us in the Park, and Watson said he thought that Skinner had been a cleverer man than he was; that he intended to have made an officer of him, but he found him not at all calculated, as he had not any cultivated idea whatever.

“About this time I was introduced to Thistlewood by one John Harrison. Thistlewood asked me how much money it would take to make a few hundred pikes, and how long it would take me. I told him it would entirely depend on their size, and the steel or iron they should be made of. He said they should be about nine or ten inches long, and I told him that they would come to about fourpence or fourpence-halfpenny a pound. He wished me to make one for a pattern, and I told him I would; but that I had no place to make them in, and Harrison replied that he knew a person who would lend me the use of his forge. Hooper and Harrison went with me to a little shop in a cellar, kept by a man of the name of Bentley, in Hart-street. I asked him to allow me to make use of his forge to make a pike, to put round a rabbit-warren, or fish-pond. He told me that if I would look out a piece of iron, he would make it himself, and, when done, it was given to me, and I took it away. I afterwards carried it to one Randall’s, where I met the two Watsons, and Thistlewood, Harrison, and Hooper; and Watson said that it was a famous instrument. Watson then wrote down the name of the house where the committee sat, No. 9, Greystoke-place, on a paper for me. On the night before, I had been to Paddington with Thistlewood among the bargemen to seek to make converts, and we found a great number of them out of employ, and treated them with some beer. We sounded them, and they said that they wanted a good row, for that they would rather be killed than be as they were. We told them that we wanted them for a job, and asked how many they could collect together, and they said that they could get five or six hundred any morning, as there were so many out of employment. We afterwards went to two public-houses in Long Acre and in Vinegar Yard, which are used by the soldiers who attend the theatres, and we treated them with beer. We asked them how they were treated by their officers, and what was their pay, and one of them, a Yorkshireman, spoke violently against the government. The conversation was about their pay, and as to their being discharged without pensions. We also went to the Fox-under-the-Hill, in the Adelphi, where we found a great number of coalheavers, and having entered into conversation with some of them, they said that they could get fifty or sixty of their fellows, who were out of employment, to join us any day. I subsequently went about alone with the same object, and if I found any man more violent than the rest, I took down his name and communicated it to Thistlewood. A day or two afterwards the committee met in Greystoke-place, to deliberate upon the best plan to set fire to the barracks, and to get all the men we could together. A pike was produced, and Thistlewood directed that Bentley should make 250 of them immediately. Dr. Watson and I reported that we had examined the barracks at Portman-street, and King-street, and had ascertained the number of their avenues; one object being to see how many entrances there were in order to guide us in ascertaining how much combustibles would be necessary to set the whole on fire, so that the soldiers should not escape. A general meeting was appointed at Greystoke-place, to arrange the whole of the business, and how it was to be conducted in each way, and we met on Sunday, previous to which I paid part of the money to Bentley for the 250 pikes, and ordered them to be made off-hand as soon as possible. When we met, Thistlewood produced a map of London. It was marked out which were the best roads to take; and we arranged the number of men who were to be collected together at the different barracks and places to be attacked. The whole of the committee were to act as generals; to have their several stations; and were to attack the separate barracks at one given time and moment. Watson proposed Thistlewood as the head general. Thistlewood and young Watson were to take the guns and two field-pieces that were in the artillery-ground in Gray’s Inn-lane; Preston was to attack the Tower; Harrison the artillery-barracks near the Regent’s Park; and I was to set fire to the King-street barracks, and either to take the men prisoners, or kill those that might attempt to escape; the elder Watson was to set fire to the Portland-street barracks. We were to attack the whole of those places at a given hour, and set them on fire at one in the morning; we were to take any person we met, and make them join us—such as gentlemen’s servants; and coachmen were to be taken from their carriages, and those who could ride were to have the horses, which were to form a cavalry, and the coaches and carriages were to be used to barricade the entrances. After I had set fire to the King-street barracks, and after we had seen that all were in flames, and that none had made their escape, I was to meet the elder Watson at the top of Oxford-street. Harrison was to join us with the artillery, which he was to bring from the barracks by the Regent’s Park, and as soon as that was done, there was to be a volley fired, to let the remainder know we had got possession of the artillery. Piccadilly gate was to be fastened and chained, and a party stationed there to fire upon the horse if they attempted to come from the barracks, and then others were to proceed towards Charing Cross and Westminster Bridge, and barricade there all the avenues upon that side, to prevent them coming round by Chelsea and that way, and then young Watson and Thistlewood, after getting possession of the guns, were to break open all the oil-shops and gunsmiths’-shops, in which they could find either combustibles or arms. They were then to blockade Chancery-lane, and Gray’s Inn-lane to St. Giles’s, where Thistlewood was to make his grand stand. One gun was to be pointed up Tottenham Court-road, and the other up Oxford-street.

“Preston, if he had not succeeded in taking the Tower, was to barricade London Bridge, to prevent the artillery coming from Woolwich. He was then to barricade Whitechapel, to prevent any troops coming from the country that way; and then when he had a body sufficient, the main body was to have met at the Bank.

“After this arrangement had been made, Watson calculated how much combustibles it would take for every avenue, such as sulphur and spirits of wine, and how much they would cost. He said they would come to one hundred pounds. Thistlewood said, ‘Let us not spare a hundred pounds; let us roast them well.’ Watson replied, that it would burn so rapidly, and the stench would be so strong, that it would stifle them in a few minutes. Young Watson and I were appointed to look after a house between the King-street and the Portman-street barracks to lodge the arms and combustibles in. We were to take it as an oil and colour shop, so that no suspicion should be excited as to our receiving the combustibles. The attack upon the barracks was to have been made on the Saturday night or the Sunday morning, between the 9th and 10th of the month, as it was supposed that at that time there would be a great number of persons about drunk, and the greater confusion would be produced. It was then arranged that we should have a committee of Common Safety, to be called together, if we got the better of the soldiers. If the soldiers joined us, we were to be called together, and to form a new parliament; the greatest part of the names of the members were mentioned by Watson and Thistlewood. These were, Sir Francis Burdett, the Lord Mayor, Lord Cochrane, Mr. Hunt, Major Cartwright, Gale Jones, Roger O’Connor, Fawkes of Bainbridge, a person named Brookes, Thompson, of Holborn Hill, the two Evanses, Watson the elder, and Thistlewood. A proclamation was to be issued immediately we had got the better, announcing that the new government would be formed immediately, and offering a bounty of 100l. to the soldiers if they would join us, or double pay for life, at their option. Things being thus far settled, and several meetings having been held at public-houses in Spitalfields, and other places, it was at length finally determined to call a public meeting to see how many people could be collected together. The place talked of was Spafields, and young Watson and some others left the committee sitting, to go and inspect the ground. They returned saying that it was a famous place, being so near the Tower and the Bank that they could get into the town and take them by surprise. A placard was to be posted through the town and hand-bills were to be distributed, and the bill having been drawn up, it was read and agreed to, and it was determined that it should be published in the “Statesman” newspaper immediately, as the meeting was to be called on the 15th of November. Thistlewood then produced a 10l. note to pay for the printing of the bill, and to pay for the remainder of the pikes, and I undertook to get a waggon to speak from. We were to have a flag of three colours, green, red, and white, with the motto, “Nature, truth, and justice,” and I undertook to carry it. I also went to Paddington to get some navigators to carry about some placards, and on the following morning I met young Watson at a coffee-shop in Kingsgate-street, Holborn, to receive the money to fetch away the pikes, and to buy two mail-bags to put them in. When we went to the printer, he said that he was afraid of publishing them, for that he feared he might get into trouble, and that he would destroy 200 of them which he had finished. His wife and several of us, and a gentleman who was with him, and another who came in afterwards, all wanted to persuade him to let us have them, and promised that we should cut his name off so that he should not get into any harm. He said “No,” he would have nothing to do with them, and that he should destroy them. It was then resolved that Watson the elder should go to one Seale, a printer in Tottenham Court-road, to see if he would print the bills, and he returned, and reported that there would be two hundred and fifty copies ready by eight o’clock on Wednesday morning. Letters were then written to Sir Francis Burdett and Mr. Hunt, to invite them to attend the meeting.

“By this time we found it necessary to give up our plan of burning the barracks in consequence of our having met with more difficulty than was anticipated in getting possession of the house intended for the depository of the combustibles, but having obtained a promise from Mr. Hunt that he would preside at the ensuing meeting, it was settled that we (the committee) should be on the spot previous to his arrival, and that the two Watsons and Preston should address the mob, and if we saw the spirit of the people was ready to act, we were to jump down, and head them into the town. There were six cockades, and some flags prepared, and those cockades were to be placed in our hats or bosoms, and if the mob called out for weapons, we were to tell them that we should soon find them weapons: for, at that time, there was scarcely a gunsmith’s shop in London which had not been inspected, to see what number of guns it contained. We were to proceed to the Bank, and take it by surprise, and to place men upon the roof to destroy the soldiers if they should attempt to retake it: they were not only to get to the top of the Bank, but also upon the tops of the surrounding houses, and to get glass bottles, and everything that would kill or hurt; the whole of the Bank books were to be brought out, and burnt, in order to do away with the national debt.

“On the morning of Friday, the 15th of November, which was the day of the first Spafields’ meeting, I went to Thistlewood’s lodgings, in Southampton Buildings, and received the colours and six cockades from Thistlewood, in the presence of Mrs. Thistlewood and her son, and I went off to the meeting, carrying the colours in my bosom, and the staff to fix them on in my hand. When the business of the meeting had commenced, and Hunt had got on the top of a coach to address the mob, Thistlewood desired me to hoist the colours; I took them out of my bosom, and tied them on to the staff, as I stood upon the box of the carriage. A motion was afterwards made for us to remove to the house, and I then handed them to some person in the one pair of stairs room. Several speeches having been addressed to the populace, the meeting was adjourned to the Monday fortnight; and we got into a hackney-coach to return. I showed the colours out of the window, and the horses were taken out by the populace, and we were drawn along, but had not proceeded many yards, when by some means or other we were run against a wall, and we all got out.

“Preparations were now made for the second meeting, fixed for the 2nd of December, and young Watson and I were sent out to collect subscriptions for defraying the expenses, and also for the purpose of inspecting gunsmiths’ shops, and to see where the arms and ammunition were situated about the Tower, and amongst the various wharfs and gun wharfs, and the establishments of those gentlemen who served the ships, such as ship chandlers, and ship brokers, to ascertain where balls, canister, and grapeshot might be found, and what quantity there was. We also examined the oil-shops where there were any combustibles, such as oil, turpentine, and such things, and regularly reported to the committee every night what was done.

“Among other things, it was proposed at one of the meetings of the committee, that we should get a couple of hundred young women together, and dress them in white, who were to walk first, in order to take off the attention of the soldiers. We were all actively employed in distributing bills announcing the meeting for the 2nd December, and in going from one public-house to another to secure the co-operation of the soldiers and labourers; and I hired a waggon to be taken to Spafields to be used as a stage for the speakers: young Watson and I were also employed in purchasing fire-arms for our own party. Flags and cockades were then prepared and delivered into my custody. On the morning of the day of meeting, we assembled at the Black Dog in Drury-lane, and it was agreed that the colours should be affixed to the staff, and that in the event of any of the civil authorities interfering they were to be shot, or run through. Some bullets and slugs were put into an old stocking, and tied in an old dirty white handkerchief, in order to be carried to the waggon. I afterwards found Keens preparing the banner, bearing the inscription “The brave Soldiers are our Friends, treat them kindly,” and I then went to the place whither I was ordered, namely London Bridge, to meet the smiths, but I found everything quite quiet, and saw no one I knew. I next proceeded to Tower Hill, and I found the gates shut, and an extra sentry on duty, and on inquiring I found that the gates were closed on account of the meeting. I afterwards went to the Bank, which was also closed, and then to Little Britain, and there I met a great mob headed by Dr. Watson, with his dirk-stick drawn, and Thistlewood. I inquired where young Watson was, and his father answered ‘To the Tower, first to the Tower! or we shall be too late.’ They passed on, and I lost sight of them, and afterwards on my seeing Keens, he told me what had occurred at Spafields, that he had been in the waggon, that he was afraid that he had left the balls and bullets behind him.

"We afterwards overtook Mr. Hunt going towards Spafields; he was in a landau; and I stopped him and asked him why he was so late; he inquired what was the matter; I answered, that Dr. Watson had gone to attack the Tower. Keens and I then went towards the Tower, and stepped into a gunsmith’s shop, and stopped some time. After that, I saw young Watson close by the Bank, at the back of the Exchange; he had in his hand a drawn sword, and was encouraging the mob to follow him. A great many were firing in the air: there were about two hundred men and boys.

“I then left young Watson, and went to Tower Hill, where I saw old Watson and Thistlewood; they went up close to the Tower rails, and seemed to be addressing themselves to the soldiers across the walls of the Tower, but I was not near enough to hear what was said. They turned up the Minories to go to Spafields, to get a greater force, as the soldiers did not seem to take any notice of them; but when near the top, thirty or forty soldiers met them, and the mob threw down their arms and ran away. I walked forward with the soldiers as if I had nothing to do with it, till the soldiers had passed me, and then turned back again, and went down towards Tower Hill. At the corner of Mark-lane, I went into a little public-house, and stopped until nearly dark, when I went to No. 1, Dean-street, where I arrived about six or half-past six o’clock. I found there the two Watsons, Preston, and Thistlewood. The elder Watson and Thistlewood began to pack up their linen, as if going away. I inquired where they were going to, and Thistlewood said, they were going a little way in the country, and we should hear from him in the course of a day or two. I inquired what had become of Hooper, and he said, Hooper was taken with the colours, and some of us must expect to be taken. I inquired if young Watson had shot anybody, and he said he did not know, but that he was perfectly well satisfied that the people were not ripe enough to act. We parted a little after; he and the two Watsons went away together about seven o’clock, but I stopped at the public-house until near dark.”

On his cross-examination it appeared that this witness was a government spy, and that his morals admirably fitted him for such an employment. There were few crimes, short of murder, with which he was not made to charge himself.

On the close of the case for the prosecution Mr. Wetherell proceeded to comment on the evidence which had been given, in a strain of argumentative eloquence which evinced at once the deep lawyer and brilliant advocate.

On the 6th day of the trial Mr. Hunt and several other witnesses were called whose testimony went to impeach the credit of Castles and others for the prosecution, after which counsel was heard for the prisoner, and the attorney-general spoke in reply.

Watson having declined to make any defence after the ability displayed by his counsel, Lord Ellenborough proceeded to charge the jury, who returned a verdict of acquittal, founded apparently upon the incredibility of the testimony of the witness Castles.

The subsequent proceedings against Thistlewood and his companions, which terminated more unfavourably for the safety of the former, will be given hereafter.

PATRICK DEVANN.

EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF THE LYNCH FAMILY.

An illegal association, bound by secret oaths, sprung up among the Roman Catholics living around Wild-Goose Lodge. Lynch, though a moderate man, believed that such a combination, on the part of those who held the same opinions with himself, was necessary to counteract similar demonstrations on the opposite or Protestant side, and he therefore joined the association. A very short time sufficed to show him the imprudence of his conduct. Wild-Goose Lodge was a central point in a remote and secluded district; and the members of the association, not without the countenance at first of the occupier, began to make the house their usual point of assemblage. Their numbers, however, speedily increased so much as to submit the family to great inconvenience; and their views, besides, so far exceeded Lynch’s own in violence, as to place him under just apprehensions lest he should be held as the leading promoter of all that might be said or done by those who made his dwelling their nightly haunt. Forced to act, in this dilemma, for the sake of himself and his family, he came to the resolution of desiring his neighbours to assemble no more under his roof. This interdict excited a strong feeling of ill-will against him among the leaders of the combination, and they afterwards habitually gave him every annoyance they could think of, with the view of ejecting him from the place.

Once liberated, in some degree, from the consequences of his imprudence, Lynch persisted in the line of conduct he had entered upon. The result was, that one night a party of men, disguised, entered his house, stripped him in presence of his family, and after flogging him, destroyed his furniture, insulted his wife, and cut the web in the loom from the one selvage thread to the other down to the beam on which it rested. These wanton injuries to an honest, industrious, and (leaving aside his junction of an illegal union) well-conducted man, were galling and hard to bear. Lynch was the husband of an amiable, affectionate wife, and the father of a young family, depending on him for subsistence. If he did bear it in silence, further injuries might follow, and himself, with the wife of his bosom and his helpless babes, be deprived of their all, and thrown upon the world to beg for subsistence. Again, to denounce those with whom he had joined in an oath, was a proceeding not only full of danger, but to which Lynch could with difficulty bring his mind. Anxious and irresolute, he appealed to the minister of his religion for protection, but it was of no avail. His midnight persecutors continued to harass him; and at last, seeing the ruin of his family inevitable, unless he bestirred himself, and being able to point out and identify those who had injured him, Lynch determined to brave the anger of his assailants, and appeal to the laws of his country. Having formed this resolution, he held to it, in spite of the most awful and ominous endeavours to intimidate him; and two of the party, who had attacked his house, were prosecuted, convicted, and suffered death.

Terrible was the wrath of the secret associates, among whom it chanced there were some men of such characters as are happily rarely to be met with in the world. One of the oaths taken by this body was, that no one member should bring another before the bar of justice. Certainly this oath, bad as it was in every sense, never contemplated that one member was not to resent the gross injuries done to him by another. But, as might have been anticipated from the previous exhibition of feeling, Lynch was held, in the strongest sense of the word, to have violated the oaths he had taken.

Not far from Wild-Goose Lodge stood a chapel, where the association met after the ejection of its members from the house of Lynch. The leading man of the body, Patrick or Paddy Devann, was clerk to the priest of the district, and had the charge of the chapel. Within this building, consecrated for widely different purposes, the midnight band assembled on a night destined by the leaders of the party for the destruction of the unfortunate Lynch. Devann, the principal agent in the scene, in order to make a deeper impression on the minds of the crowds present in the chapel, assembled them around the altar, and after administering an oath of secrecy to them, descanted on the falling off of Lynch, and the necessity of suppressing all defections among themselves. He then darkly hinted the object of the meeting to be Lynch’s punishment, and hoped that it would serve as a warning to them all to be firm to the obligations on which they had entered, and true to the interest of the body. Having finished his address, Devann then lifted from before the altar a potsherd containing a piece of burning turf, and, moving from the chapel, desired them to follow him.

Some scores of the band were on horseback, having come from distant places at the imperative summons sent to them. Many more were on foot; and all these moved stealthily onwards, Devann preceding them, towards the devoted victim. To the credit of human nature it must be stated, that few of this numerous party had the slightest idea of what was intended by the originators of the movement. As the men went along, they were inquiring among themselves in whispers, what was to be done; even those who had heard Devann’s threats did not believe that they would be enforced, or that any further injury would be done than had been inflicted before.

Silence reigned along the party’s route, as they approached the abode of the unoffending, unsuspecting, and sleeping family.

While the majority of the persons present still remained ignorant of what was to be accomplished, but obeyed their leaders passively, an extensive circle of men was formed by Devann’s directions around the devoted dwelling. Then those few who were aware of all the enormity of the project, crept forward along the ground towards the house, the pike in one hand and the lighted turf in the other. Well did the wretches know that there was no chance of escape for those within, for the house was filled with the flax by which poor Lynch made his bread; and as soon as it was caught by the flame, extinction was a thing next to impossible. The turfs were applied, and in a few minutes the house was on fire—with a family of thirteen souls beneath its blazing roof! The flames rose towards the sky, and illuminated the adjacent scene. Speedily were heard from within the supplicating cries of the miserable victims, “Mercy! for God’s sake, mercy!” But the cry was vain. So far from evincing any feelings of compunction while the work of destruction was going on, the wretches who had caused it stood ready with their pikes to thrust back those who might attempt to escape. One attempt was made to move their pity; and had the men hearts, they must have been moved. The wife of Lynch, while her own body was already enveloped in flames, had endeavoured to preserve the infant at her breast, and she appeared at the windows, content to die herself, but holding out her child for mercy and protection. Frantically she threw it from her. And how was it received? On the points of pikes, and instantly tossed back into the burning ruins, into which at the same time sunk its hapless mother. One other only of those within, and this was a man, one of Lynch’s assistants, appeared on the walls, beseeching for mercy; but he likewise received none. The veins of his face were visible, swollen like cords, and horror was painted on his whole aspect. He, and all who were within, perished. Lynch himself, either cut off early, or resigned to his fate, never appeared, either to denounce the act of his persecutors, or to supplicate their pity.

It is impossible to say with what feelings the main party encircling the house at a little distance beheld the consummation of the purposes of the night. The majority of them certainly felt horror, while others, in whose mind a blind hatred of Lynch was predominant, felt mingled sensations of horror and exultation; and the conjoined feelings expended themselves in cries, that were re-echoed by the groans of the victims. The terrified peasantry of the neighbourhood who had not joined the associated throng, started from their pillows, and gazed towards the ascending flames of Wild-Goose Lodge with fear and shrinking; for they too well

Burglars attempting to roast Mr. Porter. P. 17.
Burglars attempting to roast Mr. Porter.
P. 17.

knew the feelings of the district to regard it as a common accident, which it would have been their duty and their pleasure to have aided in suppressing and relieving. Until all sounds of life, therefore, were extinct within the burning house, the authors of the deed looked on undisturbed. When all was over, they skulked away, each to his own home.

The winds of autumn and the storms of winter had swept the ashes of Wild-Goose Lodge over the fields which Lynch had cultivated, ere any one of the actors in this atrocious crime was brought to justice. But the presence of some of the less guilty of them having been discovered, and brought home beyond a doubt, these, in order to save themselves, made a revelation of all they knew and had seen. Anticipating this, the ringleaders fled to various parts of the country; but the arm of the offended law overtook them. Devann was found in the situation of a labourer in the dockyards of Dublin, and others were taken at different times and places. Eleven were executed; and to mark the atrocity of their crime, their bodies were hung in chains at Louth and other spots in the neighbourhood of Wild-Goose Lodge. Devann was executed within the roofless walls of the house in which his victims were immolated, and his body was afterwards suspended beside those of his associates.

The date of his trial was the 19th of July 1817, and he was executed immediately afterwards.

JEREMIAH BRANDRETH, WILLIAM TURNER, AND ISAAC LUDLAM.

EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.

Jeremiah Brandreth, better known by the name of the “Nottingham Captain,” was one of those original characters for which nature had done much, and education nothing. Of his parents or early habits we know nothing; for on these subjects he maintained a studied silence, and all that was ascertained in reference to his life previously to his execution was that he had been in the army, and that he had a wife and three children, for whose support he was occasionally compelled to apply to the parish-officers for relief. His age was about twenty-six, and he is described as having presented a most striking appearance, from the exceedingly bold and resolute expression of his face.

Turner and Ludlam were both men of good character up to the time of their becoming parties to the transactions which cost them their lives. The latter had a wife and twelve children, and, being a regular attendant at a Methodist meeting-house, in the absence of the preacher conducted the prayers of the people.

These unfortunate men acted under a complete illusion. Formal statements of the number of the disaffected were given them, as well as the quantity of arms and ammunition collected, &c., accompanied with flattering pictures of the liberty, happiness, and wealth which were to wait upon success.

On the 5th of June, Brandreth came from Nottingham to the neighbourhood of Pentridge, to take command of the rebel forces; and on the 9th, they proceeded on their march for Nottingham, where it was reported, several thousands anxiously waited their coming, that they might unite in forwarding a revolution. Their numbers were truly contemptible, not exceeding forty or fifty; yet, small as they were, they committed several excesses, and Brandreth shot one harmless man. It was during the night that they commenced operations; and next morning, on the approach of a score of cavalry, they precipitately fled, leaving their arms scattered behind them. Several were then apprehended, and many more on the two or three ensuing days, and Brandreth was among their number.

To try these rebels, a special commission was issued, which was opened at Derby on the 15th of October 1817. Brandreth was the first put on his trial; and as the evidence against him was conclusive, he was found guilty. Turner and Ludlam were also convicted, as well as a young man named Weightman, whose sentence was afterwards commuted to transportation. Justice being now satisfied, twelve men pleaded guilty, and the remainder were discharged. Those who pleaded guilty received sentence of death, but were afterwards respited.

The unfortunate Brandreth, on being removed to prison, after his conviction, although he exhibited a manly firmness, was nevertheless much affected. The other prisoners thronged around him in anxious suspense to hear his fate; he uttered the single and appalling word—Guilty; and, in a moment, a perfect change was visible in the countenances of those whose lot was undecided.

Brandreth throughout his confinement seemed to have entertained a confident expectation of acquittal; and this hope appears to have rested solely on the supposed impossibility of identifying him, as he was a total stranger in that part of the country where the outbreak had occurred, and had, from the time of his committal, allowed his beard to grow, which completely shaded his whole face. The singular cast of his features, however, aided by the peculiar and determined expression of his eye, rendered his identity unquestionable; and almost every one of the witnesses swore to the person of the “Nottingham Captain.” This wretched man, both before and after his conviction, evinced the utmost propriety of conduct. He appeared calm and happy, and exhibited great firmness in the contemplation of his unhappy fate.

His companions in misfortune, however, evinced much less fortitude for each appeared the very picture of despair. They attributed their melancholy fate to Brandreth and a fellow named Bacon, who, however, evaded the punishment due to his crime.

The execution of the convicts was fixed to take place on the 7th of November 1817, and at a quarter past twelve o’clock at mid-day they were carried to the scaffold on a hurdle.

The demeanour of Brandreth was calm in the extreme, and just before the drop fell he cried out to the people assembled, “God bless you all, and Lord Castlereagh.” He died without a struggle; and when he had hung the usual half-hour, his head was removed and exhibited at the four corners of the scaffold, the executioner exclaiming, “Behold the head of a traitor!” From the manner of this functionary the mob were apprehensive that the head was to be flung in the midst of them, and they rushed back in great precipitation. They were, however, soon undeceived, and upon the same course being pursued with regard to Turner and Ludlam, they had regained their confidence.

ABRAHAM THORNTON.

TRIED FOR MURDER.

From the evidence adduced, it appeared that the poor girl went to a dance at Tyburn, a few miles from Birmingham, on the evening of the 26th of May 1817, where she met the prisoner, who professed to admire her figure and general appearance, and who was heard to say, “I have been intimate, and I will have connexion with her, though it cost me my life.” He danced with her, and accompanied her from the room, at about three o’clock in the morning. At four o’clock she called at a friend’s at a place called Erdington, and the offence alleged against the prisoner was committed immediately afterwards. The circumstances proved in evidence, were that the footsteps of a man and woman were traced from the path through a harrowed field, through which her way lay home to Langley. The marks were at first regular, but afterwards exhibited proofs of the persons whose footfalls they represented, running and struggling; and at length they led to a spot where a distinct impression of a human figure and a large quantity of coagulated blood were discovered, and on this spot the marks of a man’s knees and toes were also distinguishable. From thence the man’s footfalls only were seen, and accompanying it blood marks were distinctly traced for a considerable space towards a pit; and it appeared plainly as if a man had walked along the footway carrying a body, from which the blood dropped. At the edge of the pit, the shoes, bonnet, and bundle of the deceased were found; but only one footstep could be seen there, and that was a man’s. It was deeply impressed, and seemed to be that of a man who thrust one foot forward to heave something into the pit; and the body of the deceased was discovered lying at the bottom. There were marks of laceration upon the body; and both her arms had the marks of hands, as if they had pressed them with violence to the ground.

By his own admission Thornton was with her at four o’clock, and the marks of the man’s shoes in the running corresponded exactly to his. By his own admission, also, he was intimate with her; and this admission was made not before the magistrate, nor till the evident proofs were discovered on his clothes: her clothes, too, afforded most powerful evidence. At four in the morning she called at a friend’s, Hannah Cox, and changed her dancing-dress for that in which she had gone from Birmingham.

The clothes she put on there, and which she had on at the time of her death, were all over blood and dirt.

The case, therefore, appeared to be, that Thornton had paid attention to her during the night; shown, perhaps, those attentions which she might naturally have been pleased with; and afterwards waited for her on her return from Erdington, and after forcibly violating her, threw her body into the pit.

The prisoner declined saying anything in his defence, stating that he would leave everything to his counsel, who called several witnesses to the fact of his having returned home at an hour which rendered it very improbable, if not impossible, that he could have committed the murder, and have traversed the distance from the fatal spot to the places in which he was seen, in the very short time that appeared to have elapsed: but it was acknowledged that there was considerable variation in the different village-clocks; and the case was involved in so much difficulty, from the nature of the defence, although the case for the prosecution appeared unanswerable, that the judge’s charge to the jury occupied no less than two hours. “It were better,” he said in conclusion, “that the murderer, with all the weight of his crime upon his head, should escape punishment, than that another person should suffer death without being guilty;” and this consideration weighed so powerfully with the jury, that, to the surprise of all who had taken an interest in this awful case, they returned a verdict of Not Guilty, which the prisoner received with a smile of silent approbation, and an unsuccessful attempt at concealment of the violent apprehensions as to his fate by which he had been inwardly agitated.

He was then arraigned pro forma, for the rape; but the counsel for the prosecution declined offering evidence on this indictment, and he was accordingly discharged.

Thus ended, for the present, the proceedings on this most brutal and ferocious violation and murder; but the public at large, and more particularly the inhabitants of the neighbourhood in which it had been committed, were far from considering Thornton innocent, and subscriptions to defray the expense of a new prosecution were entered into.

The circumstances of the case having been investigated by the secretary of state, he granted his warrant to the sheriff of Warwick to take the defendant into custody on an appeal of murder, to be prosecuted by William Ashford, the brother and heir-at-law of the deceased. He was in consequence lodged in Warwick jail, and from thence he was subsequently removed by a writ of habeas corpus to London, the proceedings on the appeal being had in the Court of King’s Bench, in Westminster Hall. On the 6th of November, the appellant, attended by four counsel, appeared in court, when the proceedings were adjourned to the 17th, by the desire of the prisoner’s counsel; and on that day the prisoner demanded trial by wager of battle. The revival of this obsolete law gave rise to much argument on both sides; and it was not until the 16th of April 1818, that the decision of the Court was given upon the question. The learned judges gave their opinions seriatim, and the substance of the judgment was, that the law must be administered as it stood, and that therefore the prisoner was entitled to claim trial by battle; but the Court added that the trial should be granted only “in case the appellant should show cause why the defendant should not depart without day.” On the 20th the arguments were resumed by the appellant’s counsel; but the defendant was ordered to “be discharged from the appeal, and to be allowed to go forth without bail.”

Though the rigid application of the letter of the law thus, a second time, saved this unfortunate man from punishment, nothing could remove the conviction of his guilt from the public mind. Shunned by all who knew him, his very name became an object of terror, and he soon afterwards attempted to proceed to America; but the sailors of the vessel in which he was about to embark refused to go to sea with a character on board who, according to their fancy, was likely to produce so much ill-luck to the voyage; and he was compelled to conceal himself until another opportunity was afforded him to make good his escape.

The “trial by battle,” which in this case was so remarkably claimed, may be thus described:—

When the privilege of trial by battle was claimed by the appellee, the judges had to consider whether, under the circumstances, he was entitled to the exercise of such privilege; and his claim thereto having been admitted, they fixed a day and place for the combat, which was conducted with the following solemnities:—

A piece of ground was set out, of sixty feet square, enclosed with lists, and on one side was a court erected for the judges of the Court of Common Pleas, who attended there in their scarlet robes; and also a bar for the learned serjeants at law. When the court was assembled, proclamation was made for the parties, who were accordingly introduced in the area by the proper officers, each armed with a baton, or staff of an ell long, tipped with horn, and bearing a four-cornered leather target for defence. The combatants were bare-headed and bare-footed, the appellee with his head shaved, the appellant as usual, but both dressed alike. The appellee pleaded Not Guilty, and threw down his glove, and declared he would defend the same by his body; the appellant took up the glove, and replied that he was ready to make good the appeal body for body. And thereupon the appellee, taking the Bible in his right hand, and in his left the right hand of his antagonist, swore to this effect:—

“Hear this, O man, whom I hold by the hand, who callest thyself [John], by the name of baptism, that I, who call myself [Thomas], by the name of baptism, did not feloniously murder thy father [William], by name, nor am anyway guilty of the said felony. So help me God, and the saints; and this I will defend against thee by my body, as this court shall award.”

To which the appellant replied, holding the Bible and his antagonist’s hand, in the same manner as the other:—

“Hear this, O man, whom I hold by the hand, who callest thyself [Thomas], by the name of baptism, that thou art perjured, because that thou feloniously didst murder my father [William], by name. So help me God, and the saints; and this I will prove against thee by my body, as this Court shall award.”

Next, an oath against sorcery and enchantment was taken by both the combatants in this or a similar form. “Hear this, ye justices, that I have this day neither ate, drank, nor have upon me either bone, stone, or grass; nor any enchantment, sorcery, or witchcraft, whereby the law of God may be abased, or the law of the devil exalted. So help me God and his saints.”

The battle was thus begun, and the combatants were bound to fight till the stars appeared in the evening.

If the appellee were so far vanquished that he could not or would not fight any longer, he was adjudged to be hanged immediately: and then, as well as if he were killed in battle, Providence was deemed to have determined in favour of the truth, and his blood was declared attainted. But if he killed the appellant, or could maintain the fight from sun-rising till the stars appeared in the evening, he was acquitted. So also, if the appellant became recreant, and pronounced the word craven, he lost his liberam legem, and became infamous; and the appellee recovered his damages and was for ever quit, not only of the appeal, but of all indictments likewise of the same offence. There were cases where the appellant might counterplead, and oust the appellee from his trial by battle: these were vehement presumption or sufficient proof that the appeal was true: or where the appellant was under fourteen, or above sixty years of age, or was a woman or a priest, or a peer, or, lastly, a citizen of London, because the peaceful habits of the citizens were supposed to unfit them for battle.

It is almost needless to add, that this remnant of barbarity has now ceased to exist, an act of parliament, the introduction of which was attributable to the above case, having removed it from the pages of the lawbooks by which our courts are governed.