1592. January 22. William Patenson, condemned as a priest, drawn, hanged, and quartered at Tyburn. (Challoner’s Memoirs pt. i. p. 147).

June 23. Roger Ashton executed at Tyburn for procuring from Rome a dispensation to enable him to marry his cousin (Challoner’s Memoirs, pt. i. p. 148).

1593. The 21. of March, Henry Barrow, gentleman, Iohn Greenewood clarke, Daniel Studley girdler, Saxio Billot, gentleman, Robert Bowley, Fishmonger, were indicted of Felony at the sessions hall without Newgate beefore the Maior, the two lord Chiefe Justices of both benches, and sundry of the Judges & other commissioners of Oyer and determiner; the sayd Barrow and Greenwood for writing sundry seditious bookes, tending to the slaunder of the Queene and state; Studley, Billot, and Bowley, for publishing and setting foorth the same Bookes, and on the 23. they were all arraygned at Newgate, found guiltie, and had iudgement. On the last of March Henry Barrow and Iohn Greenwood were brought to Tyborne in a carre, and there fastened to the Gallowes, but being stayde and returned for the time, they were there hanged on the sixt of Aprill (Stow, p. 764-5).

1594. The 18. of February, [William] Harington, a seminarie priest, was drawne from Newgate to Tyborne, & there hanged, cut downe aliue, struggled with the hang-man, but was bowelled & quartered (Stow, p. 766).

1594. The last of February, Rodericke Loppez, a Portingale (as it was said) professing physicke, was arraygned in the Guild hall of London, found guiltie, and had iudgement as of high treason, for conspiring her Maiesties destruction by poyson.

The 7. of June, Rodericke Loppez, with the other two Portingales … were conuayd by water from Westminster to the Bishoppe of Winchesters staires in Southwarke, from thence to the K. bench, there laid on hurdles, and conuayd by the Sheriffes of London ouer the bridge, vp to Leaden hall, and so to Tyborne, & there hanged, cut downe aliue, holden downe by strength of men, dismembred, bowelled, headed & quartered, their quarters set on the gates of the cittie (Stow, p. 766, 768).

Camden’s account of this affair (greatly abbreviated) is that certain Spaniards prevailed on Roderigo Lopez, a Portuguese Jew, the Queen’s physician, Stephen Ferreira Gama, and Emanuel Loisie, both Portuguese, to poison the Queen. The convictions were obtained on the strength of confessions. “How far,” says Lingard, “these confessions made in the Tower, and probably on the rack, are deserving of credit, may be doubted” (ed. 1849, vol. vi. p. 554).

It is a strange feature in the case that while Camden, like Stow, speaks of the execution of all three, Lingard shows that Ferreira was saved.

The probability seems to be that Lopez fell a victim to the rivalry between Essex and the Cecils, each eager to prove greater zeal in the Queen’s service.[181]

Arising out of similar plots, real or pretended, were at this time other executions:—

On March 2, 1594, an Irish fencing master was hanged and quartered at Tyburn for a design to kill the Queen (Camden: Stow, “Summary,” p. 439), and “in less than two months from the beginning” of 1595, Edmund Yorke and Richard Williams were for the same reason executed at Tyburn (Camden, in Kennett’s “Complete History,” ii. p. 532).

1595. The 20. of February, Robert Southwell, a Jesuit, was arraygned at the Kinges Bench barre, and the next day executed at Tyborne (Stow, p. 768).

Southwell was not only a Jesuit and martyr, but a poet of whom Ben Jonson said that he would willingly have destroyed many of his own poems could he have claimed the authorship of Southwell’s “Burning Babe.”

Southwell was ordained priest in 1584. With a full knowledge of the danger he incurred, he desired to go to England as a missionary priest. He landed in England in 1588. After many narrow escapes he was at last arrested by Topcliffe, the English Torquemada, in 1592, kept in prison for more than two years, and so brutally tortured and ill-used that his father petitioned Elizabeth that he might at once suffer death if guilty, or be better treated. Southwell had inspired sympathy, for at his execution the bystanders prevailed on the executioner to let him hang till dead.

1598. The 25. of January, one named Ainger was hanged at Tyborne, for wilfully and secretly murthering of his owne father a Gentleman and Counsellor of the Law at Graies Inne, in his chamber there (Stow, p. 786).

About the middle of November, 1597, a body was found floating on the Thames, and was identified as that of Richard Ainger, Anger, or Aunger, “a double reader” of Gray’s Inn, who had been missing for some time. On view of the body the surgeons gave it as their opinion that Ainger had met his death, not by drowning, but by suffocation, and that the body had been thrown into the river after death. Suspicion attached to one of his sons, Richard, and to Edward Ingram, a porter of the Inn.

The Privy Council addressed a letter to Mr. Recorder of London, Mr. Topcliffe, Nicholas Fuller, William Gerrard, and Mr. Altham, requiring them to examine strictly the two suspected persons, “and yf by those persuasions and other meanes you shall use you shall not be able to bring them to confesse the truthe of this horrible facte, then we require you to put them both or either of them to the manacles in Bridewell, that by compulsory meanes the truthe of this wicked murther may be discovered, and who were complices and privy to this confederacy and fact” (“Acts of the Privy Council,” New Series, xxviii. 187). The case is interesting as showing that torture was at this time used in ordinary criminal cases. All the dictionaries speak of manacles as instruments of restraint merely. In the present case they were evidently an instrument of torture. Its nature must have been well known to Shakespeare’s audiences, for in “The Tempest,” referred to the year 1610, Prospero says:—

From the Middlesex Sessions Rolls we learn that the murder was done on the night of November 12th. Richard Ainger the younger, Agnes, his wife, and Edward Ingram were tried for the crime. Richard and his wife pleaded Guilty, and were sentenced to be hanged. From Stow’s account it would appear that Richard alone was hanged. Ingram was found Not Guilty (Middlesex County Records, i. 241).

1598. On the tenth of July, 19. persons for fellony were hanged at Tyborne, & one pressed to death at Newgate of London (Stow, p. 787).

1598. The ninth of November, Edward Squire, of Greenewich was arraigned at Westminster condemned of high Treason, and on the 13. drawne from the Tower to Tyborne, and there hanged, bowelled, and quartered (Stow, p. 787).

1601. After the capture of Essex—

On the 12th of February, Thomas Lea (a kinsman of Sir Henry Lea’s, who had wore the Honour of the Garter) told Sir Robert Crofts, Captain of a Man of War, that ’twould be a glorious Enterprize for six brave mettl’d Fellows to go to the Queen, and compel her to discharge Essex, Southampton, and the rest that were in Prison. He was a Man himself of great Assurance and Resolution, had Commanded a Company in Ireland, was very intimate with Tir-Oen, and an absolute Creature of the Earl of Essex’s. This did Crofts immediately discover to the Council; insomuch that Lea was sought for, and found in the dusk of the Evening about the door of the Q.’s Privy-Chamber. He seem’d very Thoughtful, was extreamly Pale, and in a great Sweat, and frequently ask’d, Whether her Majesty was ready to go to Supper? And, Whether the Council would be there? In this Posture he was seiz’d and Examin’d, the next day had his Trial, and by Crofts’s Evidence and his own Confession, condemn’d and carried away to Tyburn, where he own’d that he had been indeed a great Offender; but as to this Design, was very Innocent; and having moreover protested, that he had never entertain’d the least ill Thought against the Queen, he was there executed. And this, as the Times were, appear’d a very seasonable piece of Rigour.[182]

1601. The xxvii. of February, Marke Bakworth [Barkworth], and Thomas Filcoks [Roger Filcock], were drawne to Tyborne, and there hanged, & quartered, for comming into the Realme contrary to the statute. Also the same day, and in the same place, was hanged a Gentlewoman, called Mistris Anne Line, a widow, for relieuing a priest contrary to the same statute (Stow, p. 794).

The crime for which Mistress Line suffered was that, Mass having been said in her house, she assisted the priest in his escape.

An account of these executions is given in Hist. MSS. Commission, MSS. of the Duke of Rutland, 1888, i. 369, 370.

Mr. Barkwey cominge to the hurdle prayed and with a chearfull voyce and smylinge countenance sunge all the waye he went to execution.

The 27th daye of Februarie 1600 [1601], beinge the first Friday in Lent, the said Mr. Barkwey was brought to Tyborne there to be executed. Cominge up into the carte in his blacke habite, his hoode being taken of, his heade beinge all shaven but for a rounde circle on the nether parte of his heade, and his other garment taken of also, beinge turned into his sherte, having a pare of hose of haere, most joyfully and smylingly looked up directly to the heavens and blessed him with the signe of the crosse, sayinge, “In nomine Patris, Filii et Spiritus Sancti, Amen.” Then he turned himselfe towardes the gallowe tree wheron he was to suffer, made the signe of the crosse theron and kissed it and the rope also, the which beinge put about his necke, he turned himselfe and with a chearfull smylinge countenance and pleasant voyce sunge in manner and forme followinge, viz.: “Haec est dies Domini gaudeamus, gaudeamus, gaudeamus in ea”—usinge the same very often with these wordes, viz.: “In manus tuas, Domine, commendo spiritum meum.” Also he used these speaches to the people—“I doe confesse that I am one of the Blessed Societie after the holy order of St. Benedicte.” The minister called on him to be penitent for his sinnes, and he said, “Hold thy peace, thou arte a simple fellowe.” Then the minister wild him to remember that Christ Jesus dyed for him. And he, elevatinge his eyes to heaven and holdinge the rope in his handes—being festned together—so highe as he could reache, aunswered “And so doe I for him, and I would I had a thousand, thousand lyves to bestowe upon him in this cause,” sayinge “et majorem charitatem nemo habet.” And then turninge himselfe againe, sunge as before, and desired all Catholiques to praye for him, and he would praye for them. And beinge asked if he would praye for the Queene he saied, “God blesse her, and send her and me to meete joyfully in heaven,” and prayed also for Mr. Recorder who pronounced judgment against him, and for Mr. Wade, Ingleby, Parrat, and Singleton, who were the prosecutors of his death. And the carte beinge drawne awaye, in his goinge of from the carte saied the same wordes as before, “Haec est dies Domini; gaudeamus in ea,” and beinge presently cut downe, he stoode uprighte on his feete and strugled with the Executioners, cryinge, “Lord, Lord, Lord,” and beinge holden by the strengthe of the executioners on the hurdle in dismembringe of him he cryed, “O God,” and so he was quartered.

[I omit the account of the execution of Roger Filcock.]

There was executed also one Mistriss Lynde [Anne Line], condempned at the Sessions house the 26th day of February for the escape of a supposed preist. Her weakness was suche that she was carryed to the said Sessions betwixt two in a chaire.

There was also condempned with her one Ralphe Slyvell for rescuinge the said supposed preist, but repryved.

The said Mistriss Lynde, carryed the next daye to her execution, many tymes in the waye was stayed and urged by the minister who urged what meanes he could to perswade her to convert from her professed faithe and opinion, most constantlie persevered therin and so was brought to the place of execution and there shewed the cause of her cominge thither, and beinge further urged amongest other thinges by the minister that she had bene a common receavor of many preistes she aunswered, “Where I have receaved one I would to God I had bene able to have receaved a thousand.” She behaved herself most meekely, patiently, and vertuously to her last breath. She kissed the gallowes and before and after her private prayers blessinge herself, the carte was drawne awaye, and she then made the signe of the crosse uppon her, and after that never moved.

1601. The 13. of March, sir Gilley Merike Knight, and Henry Cuffe Gentleman, were drawne to Tyborne, the one from the Tower, the other from Newgate, and there hanged, bowelled, and quartered, as being actors with the late Earle of Essex. They both dyed very resolutely (Stow, p. 794).

Merrick was the steward and Cuff the secretary of the Earl.

1601. August 24. Thomas Hackshot, and Nicholas Tichburne, laymen, rescued a priest, Thomas Tichburne, from the custody of a constable. The two were arrested, condemned and executed at Tyburn (Challoner’s Memoirs, pt. i., p. 206).

1602. The xviii. of Aprill Peter Bullocke, stationer, and one named Ducket, for printing of Bookes offensiue were Hanged at Tyborne (Stow, p. 803).

This is a very bald account of an interesting case. James Duckett was a convert from Protestantism. As an apprentice he more than once got into trouble for his opinions; and his master, thinking that he himself might be involved, at last gave back the indenture to Duckett. Duckett now maintained himself by dealing in Catholic books, a commerce which frequently got him into prison, where it is said that he spent nine years out of twelve. A bookbinder, the Peter Bullocke mentioned above, lay in prison under sentence of death, and hoping to receive a pardon, informed against Duckett, a former customer. Duckett’s house was searched, popish books were discovered, and Duckett was condemned to death. The informer did not receive the reward of his betrayal; the informer and his victim rode to Tyburn in the same cart (Challoner’s Memoirs, pt. i., pp. 207-9).

The xx. of Aprill, Stichborne [Thomas Tichburn], W. Kenson [Robert Watkinson], and Iames Page [Francis Page], Semenarie Priestes, were drawne to Tyborne, and there hanged, bowelled, and quartered, for comming into this Realme, contrary to the Statute of Anno. 27, &c. (Stow, p. 803).

Thomas Tichburn is the priest for the rescue of whom his cousin Nicholas Tichburn, and Thomas Hackshot suffered in 1601. Page was the priest who was celebrating Mass in Mistress Line’s house in 1601, but contrived to escape.

1603. The xvii. of Februarie, W. Anderson [or Richardson] a Seminary Priest was drawne to Tyborne and there hanged, bowelled and quartered, for being found in England contrary to the statute of Anno. 27. (Stow, p. 812).

Anderson was the last of Elizabeth’s victims; she died a few weeks later.

1604. Master Robert Dow of London Merchant Taylor, in his most Christian charitie, pitying the miserable or rather desperate Estate of the poore condemned prisoners in Newgate, where very often and very many of them after Judgement of Death, and at their very Execution remaine most carelesse of their Soules health, Jesting and deriding their imminent danger and to the Judgement of the world die reprobate.

Upon tender Consideration whereof, and good hope of after reformation of such poore prisoners there, as through temptation of Sathan are, and will be too apt to fall into like danger the sayd Master Dow hath giuen competent Maintainance for ever, vnto Saint Sepulchers parish for the towling of the great Bell and for some especiall man, by them to bee appointed to come to the sayd Prison, the midnight before execution, and then distinctly and solemnly to ring a hand bell: then to pronounce with a lowd voice at the prison grate, a Godly and Christian remembrance on exhortation, appoynted by the Lord Bishoppe, beginning thus.

O ye prisoners within condemned, this day to dye, remember your sinnes, call to God for Grace, whilst yet you have time.

And in the Morning when they are in the Cart, iust against the Church, the partie aforesayd to put them in minde againe of their former liues, and present death, saying the great bell of this Church, which I told you last night should Toll for you from sixe of the clocke vntil ten, now tolleth to the end to moue good people to pray to God for you whilest your selues with them may pray for remission of your sinnes, &c. And at ten a clocke or at such time as knowledge may be truely had of the Prisoners execution the sayd great Bell shall bee rung out for the space of a quarter of an houre, (to the end all people may understand the execution is past) and then cease (Stow, pp. 862).

We are now in the reign of James I. In 1605 was the Gunpowder Plot, the memory of which is still kept alive by bonfires, and by the farcical search of the cellars of the Houses of Parliament. Gunpowder Plot does not come into the Annals of Tyburn, as none of the conspirators suffered here.

1607. February 26. Robert Drury, priest, for being in England, executed at Tyburn (Challoner’s Memoirs, pt. ii., pp. 13-5).

1608. The 11. of Aprill, George Ieruis [Gervase or Jarvis] a Seminary priest, according to his iudgement was executed at Tyborne (Stow, p. 893).

The 23. of June, Thomas Garnet, a Jesuite was executed at Tyborne, hauing fauor offred him, if he would haue taken the oath of alleageance aforesayd, but he refused it (Stow, p. 893).

Thomas Garnet was related to Father Henry Garnet, executed for the Gunpowder Plot in 1606. Thomas Garnet was convicted on evidence that while a prisoner in the Tower he had written in several places “Thomas Garnet priest.” The Earl of Exeter, one of the Privy Council, present at the execution, would not suffer the rope to be cut till the victim was quite dead (Challoner’s Memoirs, pt. ii., pp. 17-9).

1610. December 10. John Roberts, and Thomas Somers, or Watson, or Wilson. These were priests. Roberts was apprehended for the fifth time at Mass and hurried away in his vestments. Somers had been deported, together with about a score of priests, earlier in the year, but returned to England. With Roberts and Somers were executed sixteen persons condemned for various offences. The priests were suffered to hang till they were dead and then bowelled, beheaded, and quartered, and buried with the sixteen in a pit (Challoner’s Memoirs, pt. ii., p. 37).

1612. William Scot and Richard Newport, or Smith. These were missionary priests who had been banished but returned to England (Challoner’s Memoirs, pt. ii., pp. 39-44).

The burning of Protestant heretics went on through the reigns of Elizabeth and James—“the fires of Smithfield” were not extinguished by the death of “bloody Mary.” Anabaptists and Arians were burnt, the printers, the distributors, even in one case the binder, of books “seditiously penned against the Book of Common Prayer” were hanged.

It is painful to find the genial Howell writing thus in 1635:—

I rather pity than hate Turk or Infidel, for they are of the same metal and bear the same stamp as I do, tho’ the Inscriptions differ. If I hate any, ’tis those Schismaticks that puzzle the sweet peace of our Church, so that I could be content to see an Anabaptist go to Hell on a Brownist’s back (“Familiar Letters,” ed. Jacob, p. 337).

December 5. John Almond, condemned for having taken orders beyond the seas and for remaining in the kingdom, drawn, hanged and quartered (Challoner’s Memoirs, pt. ii., pp. 44-51).

1615. The murder of Sir Thomas Overbury is, with the possible exception of the supposed murder of Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey, a little more than sixty years later, the greatest of all English causes célèbres. The story involves many persons of high rank, including one in the highest, King James himself; its events are extremely complicated, and some details are of a nature requiring delicate handling in the telling. It has been told, after the fullest study of the facts, by Mr. Andrew Amos, in “The Great Oyer of Poisoning,” 1846, a volume of over five hundred pages, of which indeed many are filled with digressions seriously interfering with the narrative. It is not possible to give here more than the barest outline of the case.

Sir Thomas Overbury has a place in English literature as a prose writer and poet whose works have not been wholly forgotten. He was also a courtier in the Court of James, compared with which that of Charles II. was almost pure. James’s correct attitude towards “the Bishop of Rome” has, however, saved him from the severe criticisms passed on Charles, of more than doubtful orthodoxy. Some of the details in Harington’s “Nugæ Antiquæ” might be held to suggest that Milton had in view the Court of James when he wrote of the rabble of Comus, who forgot everything but

Overbury, after leaving Oxford, made a tour on the Continent, returning from his travels a finished gentleman. In 1601, on a visit to Scotland, he met Robert Carr, then a page in a noble family. Hence arose a close intimacy destined to be fatal to Overbury. On the accession of James to the English throne, Carr, James’s “favourite,” rose rapidly; he became Viscount Rochester. Carr and Overbury played into one another’s hands: Carr procured a knighthood for Overbury, Overbury became the mentor of Carr, who had neither learning nor the graces of a Court. The fatal woman now comes on the scene. At the age of thirteen, Frances Howard, daughter of the Earl of Suffolk, was married to the Earl of Essex, a year older. Their friends agreed that it was yet too early for the pair to live together; the boy went on his travels, the girl to her mother. On his return, Essex found his wife acknowledged as the greatest beauty in the Court, the object of general adoration. Among her admirers was Carr, for whom she had conceived a passion which knew no bounds. Overbury had been instrumental in bringing together Carr and the lady; it was he who wrote the love-letters to which Carr owed the conquest of the countess’s heart. The lady naturally hated her husband, whose return interfered with her way of life: it was only in obedience to the King’s command that she consented to live with Essex. The lady and her lover formed the design of procuring a divorce from Essex, preparatory to their marriage. Overbury strongly objected; he spoke of the countess to Carr in terms which, repeated to the lady, fixed his doom. It was contrived that the King should offer to Overbury a foreign appointment. This Carr advised him to refuse, and then represented the refusal to James in such a light that on April 21st Overbury was thrown into the Tower. The lieutenant and the under-keeper of the Tower were displaced in favour of officers on whom Carr and his mistress could rely, and the work of despatching Overbury began. Poisons were procured from Franklin, a physician, by Mrs. Turner, and sent in tarts and jellies to the Tower, where Weston, the under-keeper, took charge of them. Overbury was drenched with rosealgar, sublimate of mercury, arsenic, diamond powder. It was averred that he had swallowed poison enough to kill twenty men. He died on September 15, 1613.

The business of the divorce now went on without hindrance. To be rid of his wife, Essex was ready enough to allow a slur to be cast on his manhood; with the aid of the lawyers, the churchmen, a complaisant jury of matrons, and a young lady who, with muffled head, personated the countess for the occasion, the divorce was carried through. In view of the approaching marriage, Carr was created Earl of Somerset, and on December 26 the marriage took place. With magnificent effrontery, the lady was married “in her hair,” the mark of a virgin-bride.

But some time afterwards an apothecary’s boy, who had been got out of the way, and was now at Flushing, began to talk of what he knew; inquiry was made, and in the end the criminals were put upon their trial. On October 23, 1615, Richard Weston, the under-keeper of the Tower, was hanged at Tyburn. He was followed by Mrs. Turner, hanged on November 9th, at the same place; on the 20th Sir Gervase Elwes, the lieutenant of the Tower, was executed on Tower Hill, and on December 9th, James Franklin, the physician, was executed at St. Thomas a Waterings.

In the following year the countess was tried in Westminster hall, pleaded guilty, and was condemned. The next day the earl was brought to trial by his peers in the same place, and also found guilty. Neither was executed; each received a pardon. They lived together afterwards in the same house, hating one another with a perfect hatred; the countess died of a loathsome disease.

There are mysteries in the case remaining mysteries after the most careful study of the facts. In spite of all attempts made to persuade Somerset to plead guilty, and throw himself on the King’s mercy, he steadfastly refused. Mr. Amos inclines to believe him innocent of complicity in the murder. There are serious difficulties in the way of this theory, but it is certain that Somerset had the means of terrifying the King. Secret messages passed between the Tower and the palace, informing the king that the prisoner had threatened to refuse to go to the Court of his own will. Bacon consulted the judges as to what could be done to silence Somerset if he “should break forth into any speech of taxing the King.” At the trial two servants were placed, one on either side of the prisoner, with a cloak on his arm. Their orders were that if Somerset “flew out” on the King, they should instantly throw the cloaks over his head, and carry him by force from the bar.

Was James an accomplice in the murder of Overbury? Mayerne, the King’s physician, attended Overbury in the Tower and prescribed for him. Mayerne was not produced as a witness, nor were his prescriptions put in evidence.

Or is the mystery connected with the death of Prince Henry, James’s son? The Prince was seized with sudden illness almost immediately after dining with his father. “In Mayerne’s collection of cases for which he wrote prescriptions,” says Mr. Amos, “everything that relates to Prince Henry’s last illness is torn out of the book.”

We can but fall back on the certainty that Somerset had it in his power to make some revelation of which James was terribly afraid.[183]

1616. July 1. Thomas Maxfield, a missionary priest, drawn, hanged, and quartered at Tyburn. It is said that on the occasion of Maxfield’s execution, the gallows was adorned with garlands and wreaths of flowers. Thirteen criminals were executed at the same time. The Sheriff called on the hangman to cut down Maxfield while still alive, as indeed the law required, but this was opposed by the people, and the victim was suffered to hang till dead (Challoner, pt. ii. pp. 62-3).

We now come to the reign of Charles I.

1626. The visit of the queen, Henrietta Maria, to Tyburn has been mentioned (p. 65).

1628. This Summer there was a great Army prepared for forraigne seruice, whereof the Duke of Buckingham was Generall, who went to Portsmouth, to set all things in readinesse for present dispatch: And vpon Saturday the 23. of August, as hee was going thorow his Hall, which was filled with Commaunders, and strangers, suddainly and vnexpectedly Iohn Felton a Lieutenant, stabd the Duke into the breast, with a knife, and slily withdrew himselfe, vndiscerned of any to doe the fact, the Duke stepping to lay hold on him, drew out the knife and began to stagger, the bloud gashing out at his mouth, at which dreadfull sight, certaine Commanders with their strength held him vp, the Duke being depriued of speech and life. And then all the doores and passages being stopped, and many with their weapons drawne to kill the Murtherer, the offender himselfe seeing the vproare, boldly confessed, saying, I am the man that did it, and being examined by the Lords, was committed. The King at that time was but sixe miles from Portsmouth: The Corpes was brought to London, on Saturday the 30. of August, the Nobility, Friends, and Officers brought the Corpes by night with Torches lighted to Wallingford house neere Charing-Crosse: the Murtherer was brought to the Tower the 5. of September.

Thursday the 27. of Nouember, the aforenamed Iohn Felton, was brought from the Tower, and Arraigned at the Kings Bench, where he very penitently confessed the fact, saying, I haue slaine a most Noble loyall Subiect, and wish that this my right hand might be here cut off, as a true testimony of my hearty sorrow, and had his Judgement to be hanged: from thence he was sent to the Gate-house, where he remained till Saturday, and then sent to Tibourne, and there executed, where hee humbly and heartily repented his offence, and asked forgiuenesse of God, the King, and the Dutchesse, and of all the Land, saying, he had slaine a most Noble loyall Subiect, and desired all men do pray for him. The next day being Sunday, his Body was sent by Coach towards Portsmouth, and was there hanged in Chaines (Stow, ed. 1631, p. 1044).

A paper was found in Felton’s hat, containing the following:—

“Let no man commend for doing it, but rather discommend themselves; for if God had not taken away their hearts for their sins he had not gone so long unpunished.

“That man in my opinion is cowardly and base, and deserveth neither the name of a gentleman nor a soldier, that is unwilling to sacrifice his life for the honour of God and the good of his King and country.—John Felton.” (“Autobiography of Sir Simonds D’Ewes,” i. 385.)

Only one or two priests were executed in England during the first fifteen years of Charles’s reign.

Between 1641 and 1651 the following priests were drawn, hanged, and quartered at Tyburn merely for being priests. No other charge was made against them, but this sufficed:—

1641. July 26. William Ward.

1642. January 21. Thomas Reynolds and Bartholomew Roe.

April 26. Edward Morgan.

October 12. Thomas Bullaker.

December 12. Thomas Holland.

1643. April 17. Henry Heath.

December 11. Arthur Bell.

1644. September 7. John Duckett and Ralph Corby.

1645. February 1. Henry Morse.

1646. June 30. Philip Powel.

1651. May 19. Peter Wright. Thirteen malefactors hanged at the same time.

These were victims of the Parliament. Charles had more than one contest with the Parliament on the subject of the execution of priests. In January, 1641, Thomas Goodman, a priest and Jesuit, had been condemned. The king reprieved him; the two Houses remonstrated and urged that the law might be executed. Charles reminded Parliament of the inconvenience which might ensue to Protestant Englishmen and others abroad, but having said this he left the final decision to the Houses. Goodman petitioned the king: “He would esteem his blood well shed to cement the breach between your majesty and your subjects.” He was suffered to die in Newgate.

Much the same happened later in the year. Seven priests were condemned on December 8th. The French ambassador exerted himself in their behalf. Charles consulted the two Houses as to a reprieve, to be followed by banishment. He did in fact reprieve them. The Houses petitioned for execution. Charles replied that he desired to banish the priests, “but if you think the execution of these persons so very necessary to the great and pious work of reformation, we refer it wholly to you, declaring hereby that upon such your resolution signified to the ministers of justice, our warrant for their reprieve is determined, and the law to have its course.”[184] These also were suffered to linger out their lives in Newgate.

1654. To get a respite for a while from this massacre of priests, we may deal here with the last case that occurred for some years.

John Southworth was sent on the English mission in 1619. He escaped imprisonment till 1627, when he was tried at Lancaster, condemned, reprieved in 1630, and given over to the French ambassador for transportation beyond seas. If he was sent abroad, which seems uncertain, he was soon back, and after a long interval was again arrested, and once more released. He was finally apprehended in 1654. On his arraignment he pleaded that he was not guilty of treason, but in spite of persuasion acknowledged that he was a priest. The court, with, it is said, great reluctance, passed the inevitable sentence. On June 28th five coiners were drawn, hanged, and quartered with Father Southworth.

Father Southworth was an old man of 72; nothing was alleged against him but that he was a priest, that he was “a dangerous seducer.”

The guilt of this judicial murder rests wholly with Cromwell. The life of Southworth was in his hands; he was deaf to the suit of the French and Spanish ambassadors for Southworth’s life (Challoner’s Memoirs, pt. ii. pp. 196-200).

No more Catholics were executed in England till the Popish Plot broke out in 1678.

1649. With exquisite humour, none the less delightful because it was probably unconscious, the admirers of Cromwell have set up his statue near to the House of Commons, his back turned towards it. He might just have left the House with the key of the locked door in his pocket. Why is the statue there? It cannot be simply in recognition of the fact that Cromwell cut off the head of a king. To cut off a king’s head may be a meritorious deed, or it may be an infamous deed, or neither the one nor the other in any notable degree. But, taken by itself, it does not seem to demand an expression of national gratitude. Yet what else could the statue have been intended to commemorate? What, besides, did Cromwell do? He set up in place of monarchy a Thing so detestable that in a few years the people were glad to have back a Stuart at any price: anything was better than the military despotism of Cromwell and his majors-general. Great soldier he was, great and pitiless. The proper place for Cromwell’s statue was Drogheda.

Our hearts have burnt within us as we have read the story of ship-money levied by Charles I. without the authority of Parliament. But Cromwell also levied taxes illegally. When his old friend Cony refused to pay, and reminded Cromwell how he had often declared that the man who paid an illegal tax was worse than he who demanded it, Cromwell threw his old friend into prison. When Cony was brought into court on his habeas corpus, Cromwell threw into prison the three counsel who argued the case. Cony, deprived of the aid of counsel, pleaded his own cause. It was too clear to suffer greatly from want of skill in the pleading: the judge could not decide adversely to Cony, but was unwilling to give judgment against Cromwell. He deferred his decision. Cromwell removed him from the bench.

Enclosing went on as before; the country was desolated by civil war; the people fell into poverty deeper and deeper. The wicked laws, “taking away the life of men only for theft,” continued in force to the bitter disappointment of those who had looked for better things: “You have sate now,” wrote Samuel Chidley, addressing his Highness the Lord Protector and the Parliament, “you have sate now above these 40 days twice told, and passed some Acts for transporting Corn and Cattel out of the Land, and against Charls Stuart’s, &c., but (as I humbly conceive) have left undone matters of greater concernment; amongst which, the not curbing this over-much justice in hanging men for stealing is one; the not suppressing the pressing of men to death for not answering against themselves is another.”

Samuel Chidley, who, for greater emphasis, printed his arguments in red ink, gave instructions that a copy of his book “should be nailed upon Tiburne Gallowes before the execution, with this motto written on the top:—

… but the party could not naile it upon Tiburne Gallow-tree, for the crowd of people, and therefore was forced to naile it on the tree which is upon the bank by the Gallowes; and there it remained, and was read by many both before and after execution, and its thought will stand there still, till it drop away.”

A notable incident in the history of Tyburn!

Cromwell had enough to do to keep himself in his military saddle: he had no time to waste on an impatient idealist.[185] Samuel Chidley discovered, as others have since found, that the more things change the more they remain the same. Hanging for theft went on as briskly as ever. Indeed, by the irony of fate the Reign of the Saints furnishes us with an account of the greatest number recorded as being executed at one time at Tyburn. In the Thomasson collection of Tracts in the British Museum is one bearing the following title:—

“A true and perfect Relation of the Tryall, Condemning, and executing of the 24. Prisoners, who suffered for severall Robberies and Burglaries at Tyburn on Fryday last, which was the 29. of this instant June, 1649, expressing the penitent end of the said Prisoners, the grief of the many Thousands there, and the Speech of John Mercer (who was there executed) concerning Unity in this Kingdom, and the bringing home and setling of the King.”

The names of the criminals are given, twenty-three men and one woman. The prisoners were tied in eight carts, the sexton of St. Sepulchre’s made his official speech to the culprits, “which being ended the carts were drave unto Tiburne the Fatall place of execution, where William Lowen the new Hangman fastned eight of them unto each Triangle.”

It would seem that there was nothing unusual, nothing to attract attention, in the number executed. In the bound volume there is, following the tract, “The Perfect Weekly Account … from Wednesday June 27, to Wednesday the 4 of July, 1649, Beginning Wednesday June 27.” This little newspaper of eight pages does not so much as mention the execution.

1650. October 2. Captain Ashley was sentenced by the High Court of Justice to have his head cut off, and one Benson to be hanged, for conspiring against the Commonwealth in the tresonable Engagement of Colonel Andrews.

October 7. Mr. Benson was executed at Tyburn according to the sentence of the High Court of Justice; but in regard that Captain Ashley only subscribed the Engagement, but acted nothing in it, he was pardoned by the Parliament (Whitelocke).

1653. “The ambassador of Portugal had a very splendid equipage, and in his company his brother don Pantaleon Sa, a Knight of Malta, and a man eminent in many great actions, who out of curiosity accompanied his brother in this embassy, that he might see England. This gentleman was of a haughty and imperious nature, and one day being in the New Exchange, upon a sudden accident and mistake had a quarrel with … Mr. Gerard, … who had then returned some negligence and contempt to the rodomontados of the Portuguese, and had left him sensible of receiving some affront. Whereupon he repaired thither again the next day [November 22], with many servants, better armed and provided for any encounter, imagining he should find his former adversary, who did not expect the visitation. But the Portuguese not distinguishing of persons, and finding many gentlemen walking there, and amongst the rest one he believed very like the other, he thought he was not to lose the occasion; he entered into a new quarrel, in which a gentleman, utterly unacquainted with what had formerly passed, and walking there accidentally was killed, and others hurt; upon which the people rising from all the neighbouring places, don Pantaleon thought fit to make his retreat to his brother’s house; which he did, and caused the gates to be locked, and put all the servants in arms to defend the house against the people which had pursued him, and flocked now together from all parts to apprehend those who had caused the disorder and had killed a gentleman.… Cromwell was quickly advertised of the insolence, and sent an officer with soldiers to demand and seize upon all who had been engaged in the action. And so the ambassador came to be informed of the truth of the story, with which he was exceedingly afflicted and astonished.”

The ambassador pleaded the privilege accorded to ambassadors, but the officer was resolute; finally after an appeal to Cromwell, don Pantaleon and the rest were given up and sent to Newgate.

“The ambassador used all the instances he could for his brother, being willing to leave the rest to the mercy of the law, but could receive no other answer but that justice must be done. And justice was done to the full, for they were all brought to their trial at the sessions at Newgate, and there so many of them condemned to be hanged as were found guilty. And the rest of those who were condemned were executed at Tyburn; and don Pantaleon himself was brought to the scaffold on Tower Hill.”[186]

Strangely enough Gerard, with whom the quarrel began, was executed (for high treason against the Protector) on the same day and on the same scaffold.

1658. On June 8, Slingsby and Hewet were executed on Tower Hill: Colonel Ashton, Mr. Stacy, and Mr. Bestely were drawn, hanged, and quartered in the streets of the City, and on July 6 several of “the new conspirators” were executed in London and at Tyburn.

These were Cromwell’s last executions. He died on September 3, 1658.

1660. A terrible vengeance followed. Between October 13 and 17 eight of the Regicides were executed “at the Round or railed Place neer Charing Crosse.” “And now the stench of their burnt bowels had so putrified the air, as the inhabitants thereabout petitioned His Majesty there might be no more executed in that place: therefore on Friday [October 19], Francis Hacker, without remorse, and Daniell Axtell, who dissolved himself into tears and prayers for the King and his own soul, were executed at Tyburn, where Hacker was only hanged, and his brother Rowland Hacker had his body entire, which he begged, and Axtell was quartered.”[187]

To finish with the story of the regicides:—

Colonel Okey, Colonel Barkstead, and Miles Corbet were basely betrayed by Downing, who had been chaplain in Okey’s regiment; the States General, in violation of their fundamental maxim to receive and protect those who took refuge in their territory, basely surrendered them. They were executed at Tyburn on April 16, 1662.

A miserable vengeance was wreaked on the dead—on the “carcases” of Cromwell, Ireton, and Bradshaw.

1660. December 4. A resolution was passed in the House of Commons; the Lords made an addition, and finally the Resolution stood thus:—

December 8. Resolved, by the Lords and Commons assembled in Parliament, That the carcases of Oliver Cromwell, Henry Ireton, John Bradshaw, Thomas Pride, whether buried in Westminster Abbey or elsewhere, be, with all expedition, taken up and drawn upon a hurdle to Tyburn, and there hanged up in their coffins for some time: and after that buried under the said gallows: and that James Norfolke Esquire, Serjeant at Arms attending the House of Commons, do take care, that this order be put in effectual execution by the common executioner for the County of Middlesex, and all such others to whom it shall respectively appertain: who are required in their several places to conform to and observe this order, with effect; And the Sheriff of Middlesex is to give his assistance herein, as there shall be occasion: And the Dean of Westminster is desired to give directions to his officers of the Abbey to be assistant in the execution of this order.[188]

A new gallows had been erected for the purpose. Let Evelyn tell us of the use to which it was put on January 30, 1661:—

1661. January 30. This day (O the stupendous and inscrutable judgments of God!) were the carcases of those arch-rebels, Cromwell, Bradshawe (the judge who condemned his Majesty) and Ireton (son-in-law to the Usurper) dragged out of their superb tombs in Westminster among the Kings, to Tyburn, and hanged on the gallows there from nine in the morning till six at night, and then buried under that fatal and ignominious monument in a deep pit: thousands of people who had seen them in all their pride being spectators.[189]

Here is another account, showing the feelings of a partisan:—

“The odious carcasses of O. Cromwell, H. Ireton, and J. Bradshaw drawn upon sledges to Tyburn, and being pull’d out of their Coffins, there hang’d at the severall Angles of that Triple-tree till Sun-set. Then taken down, beheaded, and their loathesome Truncks thrown into a deep hole under the Gallowes. Their heads were afterwards set upon Poles on the top of Westminster Hall.”[190] Here Pepys saw them.

Neal says that the bodies were drawn upon hurdles, but the two words were at this time used indifferently for the same thing.

There were various legends on the subject. One was that Cromwell was not buried in Westminster Abbey, but on Naseby field. Another, that his friends contrived that the body of Charles I. was substituted for that of Cromwell, and was hanged on the gibbet. It was said that persons present observed a seam on the neck—the head having been joined to the body after decollation.[191]

Many bodies, including those of Cromwell’s mother and daughter, Admiral Blake and John Pym, were taken from the Abbey, and buried in a pit in St. Margaret’s churchyard.[192]

1660. On June 9 the House of Commons resumed debate on the Act of general Pardon, Indemnity, and Oblivion, and a list was produced of some who, though they did not sit at the trial of Charles I., on January 27, 1648, did sit on some of the preceding days. The subject was considered on subsequent occasions, and finally an Act was passed, 13 Charles II., c. 15 (1661), enacting that Lord Monson, Sir Henry Mildmay, and Robert Wallop (and others who had fled) should on January 27, 1662, be “carried to the Tower of London and from thence drawne upon Sledges with Ropes about theire necks, and according to the manner of persons executed for High Treason quite through the streets of London unto the Gallows att Tiburn,” and then carried back in like manner to the Tower or such other prison as the king may think fit, and remain prisoners during their lives.

Accordingly on January 27, 1662:—“This morning, going to take water, upon Tower-hill we met with three sleddes standing there to carry my Lord Monson and Sir H. Mildmay and another to the gallows and back again, with ropes about their necks: which is to be repeated every year, this being the day of their sentencing the king.”[193]

The Act, however, contains nothing as to the repetition of the ceremony.

1661. This year witnessed the outbreak of the Fifth Monarchy men. John James, a small-coal man, was executed at Tyburn. “The sheriff and hangman were so civil to him in his execution, as to suffer him to be dead before he was cut down, beheaded, bowelled, and quartered. His quarters were set on the gates of the City, his head was first fixed on London bridge, but afterwards upon a pole, near Bulstake Alley, Whitechapel, in which was James’s meeting-house.”[194]

1662. December 22. Thomas Tonge, George Phillips, Francis Stubbs and Nathaniel Gibbs, convicted of taking part in a plot to seize the Tower and Whitehall, to kill the King and declare a Commonwealth. They were drawn to Tyburn on two hurdles, hanged, beheaded and quartered; their heads were set up on poles on Tower Hill.[195]

1668. May 9. This day Thomas Limerick, Edward Cotton, Peter Messenger, and Richard Beasley, four of the persons formerly apprehended in the Tumult during the Easter Holydays, having upon their Trial at Hicks-Hall been found guilty and since sentenced as Traytors, were accordingly Drawn, Hang’d, and Quartered at Tyburn, where they showed many signs of their penitence, their quarters permitted Burial, only two of their Heads ordered to be fixt upon London-Bridge.[196]

1670. In February of this year ended the brilliant career of Claude Duval, the famous highwayman. There had been highwaymen before Duval, as he was succeeded by others. But the great merit of Duval is that he gave a tone and dignity to the profession which it never wholly lost. Before giving any account of this prince of highwaymen it may be permitted to say something on this branch of the profession of the art of thieving.

The century from 1650 to 1750 may be considered the era of the highwayman. When civil war rages bands of marauders will spring up, whose operations present a resemblance to the methods of a soldiery not kept well in hand. Thus during the Commonwealth James Hinde was the captain of a band of twenty or more whose operations were coloured by a pretence of acting for the king. On November 11, 1651, Hinde was examined by the Council of State, and “confessed his serving of the king in England, Scotland and Ireland.” Highwayman as he was, his pretensions as a servant of the king must have been admitted, as he was condemned at the Old Bailey, sent to Worcester, and drawn, hanged, and quartered, for high treason against the State. Accounts of his exploits were printed even a century after his death. The catalogue of the British Museum contains more than twenty entries relating to this worthy.

The prevalence of highway robbery is shown by the great number of Proclamations issued during the reigns of Charles II. and his immediate successors. Thus royal Proclamations offering rewards for the apprehension of highwaymen were issued on December 23 and 30, 1668. These were followed by others in 1677, 1679-80, 1681, 1682-3. In this last eleven notorious robbers are specially named. In 1684 and 1684-5, two more Proclamations were issued, followed in 1687 by an Order in Council of the same tenor. In 1690 came a new Proclamation. These Proclamations were not wholly successful in breaking up gangs, for in December, 1691, the Worcester waggon was plundered by sixteen highwaymen of £2,500 of the King’s money.

Still worse, in 1692 seven highwaymen robbed the Manchester carrier of £15,000 of royal treasure. A Proclamation was now issued raising the reward for capture. In the earliest Proclamations this had been fixed at £10, afterwards raised to £20. The reward now offered was £40. In the same year, 1692, was passed the Act 4 William and Mary, c. 8, taking effect after March 25, 1693. The reward of £40 was to be paid by the sheriff, or if he was not in funds, by the Treasury. Under date April 8, 1693, Luttrell writes, “Some moneys have been issued out of the Exchequer pursuant to the late Act for taking highwaymen.”

To return to Duval. He was born in Normandy, and came over to England as page to the Duke of Richmond. His best-known exploit is told at length in memoirs, ascribed to William Pope (reprinted in “Harleian Miscellany,” iii. 308-16):—

This is the place where I should set down several of his exploits; but I omit them, both as being well known, and because I cannot find in them more ingenuity than was practised before by Hind and Hannum, and several other mere English thieves.

Yet, to do him right, one story there is that savours of gallantry, and I should not be an honest historian if I should conceal it. He with his squadron overtakes a coach, which they had set over night, having intelligence of a booty of four-hundred pounds in it. In the coach was a knight, his lady, and only one serving-maid, who, perceiving five horsemen making up to them, presently imagined they were beset; and they were confirmed in this apprehension by seeing them whisper to one another, and ride backwards and forwards: the lady to show she was not afraid, takes a flageolet out of her pocket and plays. Du Vall takes the hint, plays also, and excellently well, upon a flageolet of his own; and in this posture, he rides up to the coach-side. “Sir” (says he, to the person in the coach), “your lady plays excellently, and I doubt not but that she dances as well; will you please to walk out of the coach, and let me have the honour to dance one currant with her upon the heath.” “Sir” (said the person in the coach), “I dare not deny anything to one of your quality and good mind; you seem a gentleman, and your request is very reasonable.” Which said, the lacquey opens the boot; out comes the knight, Du Vall leaps lightly off his horse, and hands the lady out of the coach. They danced, and here it was that Du Vall performed marvels; the best master in London, except those that are French, not being able to show such footing as he did in his great riding French boots. The dancing being over, he waits on the lady to her coach; as the knight was going in says Du Vall to him, “Sir, you have forgot to pay the musick.” “No, I have not” (replies the knight;) and, putting his hand under the seat of the coach, pulls out an hundred pounds in a bag, and delivers it to him; which Du Vall took with a very good grace, and courteously answered, “Sir, you are liberal, and shall have no cause to repent your being so; this liberality of yours shall excuse you the other three-hundred pounds”: and giving him the word, that if he met with any more of the crew, he might pass undisturbed, he civilly takes his leave of him.

Here is the account of the lying in state after the execution:—

After he had hanged a convenient time, he was cut down, and, by persons well dressed, carried into a mourning-coach, and so conveyed to the Tangier-tavern in St. Giles’s, where he lay in state all that night, the room hung with black cloth, the hearse covered with escutcheons, eight wax-tapers burning, and as many tall gentlemen with long black cloakes attending; mum was the word, great silence expected from all that visited, for fear of disturbing this sleeping lion. And this ceremony had lasted much longer, had not one of the judges (whose name I must not mention here, lest he should incur the displeasure of the ladies) sent to disturb this pageantry.

The “Memoirs” are not to be taken too seriously. They are satirical, as is sufficiently shown by the title—“Intended as a severe Reflexion on the too great Fondness of English Ladies towards French Footmen: which, at that Time of Day was a too common Complaint.”

According to the “Memoirs” Duval’s tomb bore the family arms curiously engraved and under them this epitaph:—