Some Distinguished Victims - Forgotten Books

SOME

DISTINGUISHED V ICTIMS

OF THE SCAFFOLD

HORACE BLEACKLEY

[LJZ LQWRRJfTYOfiLS

LONDON

PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER, {5 co., LTD.

DRYDEN HOUSE, GERRARD STREET,W .

1 905

(to

JOS E PH GREGO

W HOSE MEMORY IS STORED W ITH

PICTURES OF

MODERN IMPRES S IONS FROM

OLD PLATES ARE

OFFERED

PREFACE

No apology is needed , save that which the consc iousnessof inadequate work may cal l forth

,from him who wri tes

a h istory of great criminals . S i nce the l ives of somany whose crime i s their on ly ti t le to fame havebeen included in the D ictionary of N ational B z

’

ograp/zy ,

i t is inev i table that some of these old stories shal l bet e-told . Already the books of Charles W hibley and

J . B ; Atlay, as well as the newspaper sketches of

W. W . Hutchings, have advanced this portion of ourbibl iography to a large extent. By a judic ious selectionsome rare human documents and many an entrancingtale may be found in the crimson pages of the TyburnChron icle . The dainty squeamishness that put Ainsworth into the pi llory

,not because he had written a

clumsy novel , but because he had dared to weave aromance around the grisly wal ls of Newgate

,would be

out of place in an age that wi l l l isten to ballads of adrunken soldier, and reads our women’s stories of theboudoirs of Mayfair.Without a knowledge of the N ewgate Calendar i t i s

impossible to be acquainted with the history of Englandin the eighteenth century . On the other hand

,to him

who knows these volumes, and who has verified hisinformation in the pages of the Sessions papers andamong the battles of the pamphleteers , the Georgian

vfii PREFACE

era is an open book. No old novel gives a moreexact pictu re of a middle-class household than the trialof Mary Blandy, nor shows the inner l ife of those on

the fringe of soc iety more completely than the story ofRobert Perreau . While fol lowing the fate of H enryFauntleroy we enter the newspaper world of our great

grandfathers . And as we look upon these forgottendramas , the most i l lustrious bear us company . For atime Wordsworth and Coleridge chat of nothing butthe Beauty of Buttermere and rascally J ohn Hadfield.

Dr J ohnson thinks wistfully of the charms of sweetMrs Rudd . Boswel l rides to Tyburn in the samecoach as the Rev . Mr Hackman , or persuades S i rJ oshua to witness an execution . H enry F ieldinglashes the cowards who strive to condemn a prisonerunheard . To all who desire to understand theeighteenth century the N ewgate Calendar i s ases sential as the Letters of Walpole .

ln making a selection from the dozen or more causes

cllébres that stand out in special prominence from the

rebell ion of ’45 to the death of George IV. the choiceis not di fficult . I t is apparent that the stories of

Eugene Aram , Dr Dodd , and J ohn Thurtell must beomitted , for all have been told adequately in recentyears . Little that is new or interesting can be foundin the tale of mad Lord Ferrers

,except that he was

not hanged with a s i lken rope . A l though the weirdtragedy of the Rev . James Hackman sank more deeplyinto the popular mind than almost any other

,the

h istory of the brothers Perreau has been preferred,

since Mrs Rudd appears a more attractive pe rsonagethan the unfortunate Martha Ray . For simi lar reasonsWynne Ryland takes the place of Captain Donellan ,

and E l i za Penning , natural ly, has been excluded infavour of the Keswick l mpostor. As to the rest, i t isobvious—owing to the omission of the highwayman and

PREFACE ix

those guil ty of high treason such as Colonel Despardthat no more il lustrious names can be found in theN ewgale Calendar than Mary Blandy, J oseph Wall, andH enry Fauntleroy.

Each crime, moreover, bears the dist inct impress of

i ts epoch . None other but the dark night that separatesa gorgeous sunset from the bri l l iant dawn could witnessthe sombre tragedy at H enley. While the nat ionbegins i ts eager l ife as a young apprentice to trade

,

Tom I dle is found among the recreants, and manya sparkling macaroni l ike Daniel Perreau prefers tostake h is al l i n Exchange Alley to pursuing laboriousdays . Wynne Ryland is dazzled by the birth of

a most radiant springtide when the world becomesclothed in beauty, and man seems to have stolen theheavenly flame . Then comes the clash of arms andthe strife ofworlds

,when the red giants are unchained,

and the l i fe often thousand men is naught in the pol icyofa statesman . With the story of the Maid of Buttermere we perceive again one of the spirits of the agevain

,ruthless S trephon in dandy atti re pursu ing his

Phyl l is,shal low-pated and simple . And last, the era of

H enry Fauntleroy,when the nation has grown rich , and

man must choose between the scarlet of the Corinthian,and the dul l, sober garb of toi l—a strange mingl ing of

black and crimson .

I n order to avoid an interruption of the narrativewhich a footnote must always cause

,the editorial

comments have been placed in the bibl iography at theend of each monograph , to which those who differfrom the author are requested to refer. Althoughthe addi tion of the l ists of authorit ies has robbed thebook of due proportion , the fact that the useful adagewhen found make a note of

” has been observed wil l,i t is hoped

,cause the loss to be balanced by the gain .

The author wishes to acknowledge h is obl igations to

PREFACE

Mr John Arthur for his kindness in verifying referencesin the Brit ish Museum ; to Mr I saac Edwards of Boltonfor simi lar help ; to the editors ofthe H enley Adz/eraser ,

the Carlislejournal, and the Tz'

w rton Gaz ette for accessto the fi les of thei r newspape rs to the rectors of H enley,Feltham

,Mottram

,S t Sepulchre’s, Holbom , and S t

Martin 's, Ludgate, for permission to consul t the churchregister ; to Mr Richard Greenup of Caldbeck forinformat ion concern ing the Beauty of Buttermere ; andto Mrs Bleackley for the list of Wynne Ryland

’sengrav ings .

CONTENTS

THE LOVE PH ILTRE. The Case ofMary B landy, 1 751-1 752

THE UNFOR'

I‘

UNATE BROTHERS . The Case ofRobert andDaniel

THE K ING’S ENGRAVER . The Case ofWilliam Wynne Ryland,1 783

A List ofWilliam Wynne Ryland’s Engravings

A SOP TO CERBERUS . The Case ofGovernorWall,1 782- 1802

A Bib liography ofthe Wal l Case

THE K ESW ICK IMPOSTOR . The Case of John Hadfield, 1802

1803

A Bibliography ofthe Hadfield Case

A FAMOUS FORGERY . The Case ofHen ry Faunt leroy, 1824Part I . The C riminal and his Crime

Part II . Some Details ofthe Forgeries

Fauntleroy and the Newspapers

No tes on the Fauntleroy Case

ILLUSTRATIONS

r.

“The Execution of the Idle Apprentice at Tyburn,

4. The Execution ofMiss B landy. From an engraving

byjo/zn Cole

5. Messrs Robert and Daniel Perreau in the Dock

6 . Margaret Caroline Rudd. Line engraving by G.

7 . Mrs Margaret Rudd in the Dock . D rawn and

engraved by G. B artoloz z i

8 . William Wynne Ryland. D rawn and engraved

9 . His Majesty King George I II. Line engraving by

W'

. W . Ryland'afler Allan Ramsay

I O. Charles Rogers. Mez zotint by PV. W'

. Rylane'after

S ir[as/ma Reynolds

1 1 . General S tanwix’s Daughter. S tipple engraving by

IV. I/V. Rylana'

after Angelica Kaufman (an

example ofthe famous ‘red-chalk ’manner)

1 2 . Angelica Kauffman. S tipple engraving by T. Barbe

after S irfoslzna Reynolds

xiv ILLUSTRATIONS

13. GovernorWall. An elf/ting byj. C/wpman

i 4 . E lf/zed byj. Cba/man

i s. The Beauty of Buttermere. Coloured engraving

16 . MaryofBut terme re. S tipple engraving byMackenz ie

from a drawing by PV. bl . B ennet

1 7 . Mary ofButtermere. E tc/zed byfame: Gillray

18 . Henry Fauntleroy. From a sketch by“A . V.

”

19 . James Harmer. Line engraving by T. a g/zt from

a drawing by A . W ivell

20 . Fauntleroy’s Trial at the Old Bailey. By lV. Read

2x. Catnach’s Broadside ofFauntleroy

’

s Execution

Pretender ;was lead ing J enny Cameron toward

named Francis mandy, was living at H enley-upon

clerk, and was awakened a person of ski l l i n his

was more considerable than his meansold Mr B landy, l ike Others

'

wiser than

M i, has! a fo ible His pride was jus t great enougha tuft-hunter. In those times, a solic itorW e had many chances of ' meeting his

equa l terms , and when the attorney ofHenl ey

t hat he had saved the large sum of ten

thousand pounds , coumy society esteemed him at h ismgposedyalixe . There lived wi th him —in an old

https://www.forgottenbooks.com/join

2 SOME DISTI NGU ISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

world home surrounded by gardens and close to thebridge on the London road—his wife and daughter, anonly ch i ld

,who at this period was twenty-five years

of age.Mrs Blandy

,as consequential an old dame as ever

Haunted saeqne or nodded her l i ttle bugle over a dishof tea

,seems to have Spent a weary existence in wringing

from her tight-fisted lord the funds to support thesmal l frivol i t ies wh ich her social ambition deemedessential to thei r prestige . A femin ine mind seldomappreciates the reputation without the ut i l i ty of wealth ,and the lawyer’s wife had strong Opinions wi th regardto the propriety of l iving up to thei r ten-thousandpound celebri ty. While he was content with the barrenhonour that came to h im by reason of the reputed dotwh ich his daughter one day must enjoy—pluming h imself

,

no doubt, that his Molly had as good a chance of winninga coronet as the penniless daughter of an I rish squireen—his lady, with more worldly wisdom , knew the valueof an occasional j aunt to town , and.was fully al ive tothe chances of rout or assembly hard-by at Reading.

Thus in the pretty l i ttle home near the beautiful reachof river, domestic storms—sad obj ect-lesson to an onlych ild—raged frequently over the parental truck andbarter at the booths of Vanity Fair.Though not a beauty—for the smallpox

,that stole

the bloom from the cheeks of many a sparkl ing bellein hoop and brocade, had set i ts seal upon her facethe portrait ofMary B landy shows that she was comely.

S ti l l , i t is a picture in which there is a full contrastbetween the l ight and shadows. Those fine gl isten ingblack eyes of hers—l ike the beam of sunsh ine thati l lumines a sombre chamber—made one forget theabsence of winsome charm in her features ; yet thei rradiance appeared to come through dark unfathomabledepths rather than as the reflection of an unclouded

THE LOVE PH ILTRE

soul . With warmth all blood may glow,with softness

every heart can beat,but some

,l ike hers

,must be com

pelled by reciprocal power. Such , in her empty home,was not possible. Even the love and devotion of herparents gave merely a portion ofthei r own essence. F roma greedy father she acquired the sacred lust, and learntfrom infancy to dream, with morbid longing, of herfuture dower ; while her mother encouraged a hungerfor vain and giddy pleasure

,teach ing unwi tt ingly that

these must be bought at the expense of peace, or bythe sacrifice of truth . To a girl of wit and intel l igencein whose heart nature had not sown the seeds of

kindness, these lessons came as a crop of tares upona fru itful soi l . But

,as in the case of al l women , there

was one hope of salvation . I ndeed,s ince the passion

of her soul cried out with imperious command that sheshould fu lfi l the destiny of her sex

,the love of husband

and ch ildren would have found her a strong but pl iablematerial that could be fashioned into more gentleform . Without such influence she was one of those towhom womanhood was insufferable—a mortal shapewhere lay encaged one of the fiercest demons of d iscontent .Molly Blandy did not lack admirers. Being pleasant

and vivacious—while her powers of attraction wereenhanced by the rumour of her fortune—not a few of

the beaux in the fashionable world of Bath , and countysociety at Reading

,gave homage and made her their

toast . I n the eyes of her parents i t was imperat ivethat a su itor should be able to offer to thei r daughtera station of l ife befitt ing an heiress. On this accounttwo worthy swains

,who were agreeable to the maiden

but could not provide the expected dower, receiveda quick dismissal. Although there was nothing exorb itant in the ambition of the attorney and h is dame,i t is clear that the girl learnt an evi l lesson from

4 some msrmcuxsusn V ICTIMS or THE SCAFFOLD

these mercenary transactions . S ti l l , her crosses inlove do not seem to have sunk very deeply into herheart

,but henceforth her conduct lost a l i ttle of its

maidenly reserve . The freedom of the coquett e tookthe place of the earnestness and sinceri ty that hadbeen the mark of her ardent nature , and her conduct towards the officers of the regiment stationedat H enley was deemed too forward . H owever, thefather

,whose reception into mil i ta ry circles no doubt

made the des ired impression upon h is mayor andaldermen

,was well sat isfied that his daughter should

be on famil iar terms with her sold ier friends. Evenwhen she became betrothed to a captain of no

great fortune, he offered small object ion on accountof the position of the young man . Yet, al thoughthe prospect of a son-in-law who held the king

’s commission had satisfied his vanity, the old lawyer, whofoolishly had allowed the world to bel ieve h im richerthan he was, could not, or (as he pretended) would not,provide a sufficient dowry. Thus the engagementpromised to be a long one. Fate

,however

,decided

otherwise . Very soon her suitor was ordered abroadon act ive service, and the hope of marriage fadedaway for the third time.I n the summer of 1 746 , while no doubt she was sigh ing

for her soldier across the seas, the man destined to workthe tragic mischief of her l ife appeared on the scene.Will iam H enry Cranstoun,

a younger son of the fifthLord Cranstoun, a Scottish baron , was a lieutenant ofmarines , who, since his regiment had suffered severelyduring the late J acobite rebell ion , had come to H enleyon a recru iting expedition . At fi rst h is attentions toMiss Blandy bore no fruit

,but he returned the following

summer, and while staying with h is grand-uncle, GeneralLord Mark Kerr, who was an acquaintance of the lawyerand h is family, he found that Mary was off with the old

THE LOVE PH ILTRE 5

love and will ing to welcome him as the new. All wereamazed that the fastid ious girl should forsake her gallantcaptain for th is l i ttle sprig from North Bri tain—an

unders ized spindleshanks, buil t after Beau Diddapperpattern—in whose weak eyes and pock-fretten featureslove must vainly seek her mirror. S t i l l greater was theastonishment when ten-thousand-pound B landy

,swol len

with importance, began to babble of “ my Lord of

Crail ing,and the l i ttle bugle cap of h is dame qu ivered

with pride as she told her gossips of “ my Lady Cranstoun, my daughter

’

s new mamma.

”For i t was common

knowledge that the small Scot was the fifth son of aneedy house, with l i ttle more than h is pay to supporth is many vic ious and extravagant habits. Such detai lsseem to have been overlooked by the vain parentsin thei r del ight at the honour and glory of an all iancewith a family of t i tle . I n the late autumn of 1747 theyinvi ted their prospect ive son-in-law to thei r home, where,as no one was fonder of free quarters, he remained forsix months. But the cruel fate that presided over thedestin ies of the unfortunate Mary i ntervened once more.H ones t Lord Mark Kerr (whose prowess as a duel l isti s chronicled in many a page) , perce iv ing the intent ionsof h is unscrupulous relat ive, made haste to give hislawyer friend the s tartl ing news that Cranstoun was amarried man .

This information was correct. Yet, although weddedsince the year before the rebell ion , the vic ious l i ttleS cot was seeking to put away the charming lady whowas his wife and the mother of his ch ild . Plain enoughwere the motives . A v isit to England had taught himthat the t it le which courtesy permitted him to bear wasa commercial asset that, south of the Tweed, wouldenable him to sel l himself i n a better market. As oneof his biographers tel ls us,

“ he saw young sparklersevery dayrunn ing off with rich prizes,

”for the chapels

6 SOME DISTINGU ISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

ofWilkinson and Keith were always ready to ass ist theabductor of an hei ress . I ndeed , before h is arrival atH enley

,he had almost succeeded in capturi ng the

daughter of a Leicestersh i re squire , when the father,who suddenly learnt h is past h i story , sent him abouth is business. S ti l l

,he persi sted in his attempts to get

the Scotch marriage annul led , and h is chances seemedfavourable. Most of the relat ives of his wife, whohad espoused the losing side in the late rebell ion , werefled in exi le to France or F landers . Moreover, shebelonged to the Cathol ic Church , which at that time instem Presbyterian S cotland had fallen upon evil days.Bel ieving that she was alone and friendless, and relying,no doubt

,upon the sectarian prej udices of the law

courts,he set forth the base l ie that he had promised to

marry her only on condit ion she became Protestan t.H i s explanation to the Blandys , i n answer to LordMark’s imputation , was the same as h is defence beforethe Scottish Commissaries . The lady was his m istress

,

not his wifeM iss B landy took the same view of the case that

Sophy Western d id under simi lar c ircumstances .Human nature was l i ttle d ifferent in those days

,but

men wore their hearts on the ir sleeve instead of exh ibi ting them only in the Courts

,and women preferred to be

deemed complacent rather than stupid . Doubtless old

lawyer B landy grunted many Saxon sarcasms at theexpense of S cotch jurisprudence, and trembled lest sonin-law Diddapper had been entangled beyond redempt ion . S ti l l , father, mother, and daughter bel ieved theword of thei r guest , waiting anxiously for the resu lt ofthe l i t igation that was to make him a free man . Duringthe year 1 748 the Commissar ies at Edinburgh decidedthat Captain Cranstoun and the ill-used M iss Murraywere man and wife . Then the latter

,be ing aware of the

fl i rtation at H enley, wrote to warn M iss B landy, and

THE LOVE PH ILTRE 7

provided her with a copy of the Court’s decree. Greatwas the consternation at the house on the London road.

V i sions of tea-gossip over the best set of ch ina in thelong parlour at Crai l ing with my Lady Cranstounvanished from the old mother’s eyes, while the townclerk forgot his dreams of the baby whose two grandfathers were h imself and a l ive lord . Nevertheless, theyoung S cotsman protested that the marriage was invalid,declared that he would appeal to the highest tribunal ,and swore eternal fidel i ty to h is Mary. Alas, shetrusted him ! Within the sombre depths of her soulthere dwelt a fierce resolve to make this man her own.

I n her s ight he was no graceless creature from thebarrack-room , but with a great impersonal love shesought in him merely the fulfilment of her dest iny.

In her first passion, woman loves her lover

In all the others, all she loves is love.

”

At th is t ime Cranstoun’

s fortunes were in a parlousstate. More than half of his slender patrimony hadbeen sequestered for the maintenance of his wife andch ild

,and shortly after the peace of Aix-la-Chapel le, his

regiment being d isbanded, he was left on half-pay.

S t i l l, he did not waver in h is purpose to win the heiressofH enley.

On the 3oth ofSeptember 1 749 , the poor frivolous oldhead, which had sported its cap so bravely amidst theworries of pretentious poverty, lay st i l l upon the pil low ,

and Mary Blandy looked upon the face ofher dead mother.I t was the turn ing-point in her career. While his wifewas al ive, the old lawyer had never lost al l faith in h iswould-be son-in-law during the two years that he hadbeen affianced to his daughter, i n sp ite of the rudeshocks which had staggered his credul ity. Cranstoun

had been allowed to sponge on him for another s ixmonths in the previous summer

,and had pursued his


womenfolk when they paid a v is i t to Mary’

s uncle,Serj eant S tevens, of Doctors’ Commons H owever,soon after the death of his w i fe the patience of M rBlandy

,who must have perceived that the case of the

pretender was hopeless , seems to have become wornout. All idea of the baron’s grandch ild faded from hism ind ; the blear-eyed lover was forbidden the house,and for nearly twelve months did not meet his trustingsweetheart.Although a woman of her intel l igence must haveperceived that, but for some untoward event, herrelationship with her betrothed could never be one of

honour,her fidel ity remained unshaken . H aving passed

her th irt ieth birthday,the dreadful stigma of spinster

hood was fast fall ing upon her. I f the methods ofanalogy are of any avail

,i t is clear that she had

become a creature of lust—not the lus t of sensual i ty,

but that far more insatiable greed,the craving for con

quest, possession , the attainment of the unattainable,call ing forth not one but al l the emotions of body andsoul . A sacrifice of honour—a paltry thing in the faceof such mighty passion—would have been no v ictory, forsuch in i tself was powerless to accomplish the essent ialmetamorphos is of her l i fe. I n mutual existence wi th alover and slave the destiny of th is rare woman alonecould be achieved . Thus came the harvest of thetempest . I t was not the criminal negl igence of thefather in encouraging for nearly three years the pretens ions of a su itor, who—so a trustworthy gentleman hadtold h im—was a married man , that had planted the seedsof storm . Nor did the fi l ial love of the daughter beginto fade and wither because she had been taught thatthe affections , l ike anything which has a price, shouldbe subject to barter and exchange. Deeper far lay theroots of the mal ignant disease—growing as a port ion of

her being—a part and princ iple of l ife i tself. Environ


IO SOME DISTI NGU ISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

Boobys and Bellas tons were fashionable women of theday, quite as much al ive as E l izabeth Chudleigh orCarol ine F i tzroy. Such was the age of M iss B landy,and she proved a worthy daughter of i t.I n the late summer of 1 7 50 the fickle attorney , who

had become weary of opposi t ion , consented to withdrawthe sentence of banishment he had pronounced againsth is daughter’s lover. Possibly he fancied that therewas a chance , after al l , of the Scotch l ieutenant's successin the curious law-courts of the North, and perhaps apresent of salmon

,received from Lady Cranstoun,

appeared to him as a favourable augury . Consequen tlythe needy fortune-hunter, who was only too ready toreturn to his free quarters, paid another lengthy v is it toH enley . As the weeks passed , i t was evident that thetemper of the host and father, whose sen ile humourswere swayed by gravel and heartburn , could not supportthe new ménage. Fearful lest the devotion of h is Mol lyhad caused her to lose al l regard for her fai r fame, wroththat the clumsy l i ttle sold ier should have disturbed thepeace of his household

,the old man received every

mention of the ti resome affair in Scotland ” with sneersand gibes . Vanished was the flunkey-opt im ism that hadled him to welcome once more the pert inac ious sl ip ofScotti sh baronage . Naught would have appeased himbut prompt evidence that the su itor was free to lead hisdaughter to the al tar. Noth ing could be plainer thanthat the querulous widower had lost al l confidence in h isunwelcome guest.The faithful lovers were fi l led with d ismay. A few

strokes of the pen might rob them for ever of theirten thousand pounds. Their wishes were the same,their minds worked as one. A deep

,cruel soul-blot,

transmitted perhaps by some cut-throat borderer throughthe blood of generations

,would have led Will iam

Cranstoun to commit, without scruple, the viles t of

THE LOVE PH ILTRE I I

crimes . Those base attempts to put away his wi fe , andto cast the stigma of bastardy upon his chi ld , added to

his endeavour to entrap one heiress after another into abigamous marriage, make him guil ty of offences lessonly than murder. I n his present pos ition he had causefor desperation . Yet, although utterly broken in fortune,there was a rich treasure at his hand if he dared to seizei t. Were her father dead, Molly Blandy, whether aswife or mistress, would be his—body, soul , and wealth .

Within the veins of the woman a l ike heart-stain spreadi ts poison . All the lawless pass ion of her nature criedout against her parent’s rule , wh ich, to her mind , wasseeking to ban ish what had become more prec ious thanher l ife . Knowing that her own fierce wil l had i tsmate in his, she bel ieved that his obduracy could not beconquered

,and she l ived in dread lest she should be

d is inherited . And all th is time, day after day, thedemon-tempter wh ispered “When the old man is in h isgrave you shal l be happy .

Which of the guil ty pai r was the first to suggest theheartless crime i t is impossible to ascertain , but there isevidence, apart from M iss Blandy

’

s statement, thatCranstoun was the leading spir i t . Poss ibly, nayprobably

,the deed was never mentioned in brutal

plainness in so many words . The history of crimeaffords many indicat ions that the blackest criminals areobl iged to soothe a neurot ic consc ience with the anodyneof make-bel ief. I t is qu ite credible that the two spokeof the proj ected murder from the first (as indeed M issB landy explained i t later) as an attempt to concil iatethe old lawyer by administering a supernatural loveph il tre, having magical qual i ties l ike Oberon

’s flower inA Midsummer N iglzt

’

s D ream, which would make himconsent to their marriage. Presently a reign of mysticterror seemed to invade the l i ttle house in the Londonroad. With fear ever present in her eyes, the figure

12 SOME D ISTI NGU ISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

of the sombre woman gl ided from room to room,

whispering to the frightened servants ghostly tales ofth ings supernatural—of unearthly music that she hadheard during the m isty autumn n ights, of noises thathad awakened her from sleep, of the ghastly appari tionsthat had appeared to her lover. And to al l thesestories she had but one dismal i nterpretation—sayingi t had come to her from a wizard-woman in Scotlandthey were signs and tokens that her father would diewith in a year ! Those who heard her l istened andtrembled

,and the words sank deep into their memory.

So the winter crept on ; but while al l slunk through thehouse w ith bated breath , shrinking at each mysterioussound

,the old man , doomed by the sorceres s, remained

unsuspic ious of what was going on around him.

Not long before Christmas, to the great rel ief of hischurl ish host

,the l ittle Scotsman’s clumsy legs pass ed

through the front door for the last t ime, and he set outfor h is brother’s seat at Crail ing in the sh ire ofRoxburgh . Yet, though his lengthy Visi t had come toan end , h is spiri t remained to rule the brain of thewoman who loved h im . Early i n the year 1 7 51 shereceived a box

,containing a present from Cranstoun,

a set of table l inen , and some ‘ Scotch pebbles . ’ LawyerB landy viewed the stones with suspicious eyes

, for hehated al l th ings beyond the Cheviot H i l ls

,but did not

make any comment . The relationship between fatherand daughter had become cold and d istant. Quarrelswere constant in the unhappy home . Often in themidst of her passion she was heard to mutter deepcurses against the old man . I ndeed , so banished washer love that she talked wi thout emotion to the servantsof the l ikel ihood of h is death , in fulfi lment of the witch

’sprophecy .

Some weeks later, when another consignment of themysterious ‘ Scotch pebbles ’ had arrived for Miss

THE LOVE PH ILTRE I 3

B landy,i t was noticed that her conduct became st i l l

more dark and strange. S l inking through the housewith slow and steal thy tread, she appeared to shun

,all

eyes,as though bent upon some h idden purpose. A

glance with in the box from the North would haverevealed the secret . When the crafty accompl ice foundthat she was unable to procure the means of takingher father’s l ife, he had been forced to supply her withthe weapons . During the spring, the health of the old

lawyer, who suffered more or less from chronic ai lments ,began to grow more feeble. H is garments hung looselyupon his shrunken l imbs

,while the teeth dropped from

his palsied jaws. The old witch’s curse seemed to have

fallen upon the home, and , to those who looked withapprehension for every s ign and portent, i t was fulfi l ledin many direful ways . Early in June, Ann Emmet, anold charwoman employed about the house, was seizedwith a v iolent i l lness after dr inking from a half-emptiedcup left at Mr Blandy

’

s breakfast. A little later, SusanGunnel , one of the maid-servants , was affected in asimilar way through taking some tea prepared for hermaster. One August morn ing, i n the secrecy of herown chamber, trembl ing at every footfall beyond thelocked door, Mary B landy gazed with eager, awestruckeyes upon a message sent by her lover.

“ I am sorry there are such occasions to clean yourpebbles,

" wrote the murderous l i ttle Scotsman .

“ You

must make use of the powder to them, by putting i t i ntoanything of substance, wherein i t wi ll not swim a-topof the water, ofwhich I wrote to you in one of my last.I am afraid i t wi ll be too weak to take off the ir rust

, or

at leas t i t wil l take too long a time.From the language ofmetaphor i t is easy to translate

the ghastly meaning. She must have told Cranstounthat the white arsenic, which he had sent to her underthe pseudonym of ‘ powder to clean the pebbles

,

’

I4 SOME DISTI NGU I SHED V ICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

remained floating on the surface of the tea. Possiblyher father had noticed th is phenomenon

,and

,not caring

to drink the l iquid , had escaped the painful sicknesswhich had attacked the less cautious servants. But nowshe had found a remedy anything of substance ! ’

a safe and sure veh icle that could not fai l. Loudersti l l i n the ears of the lost woman rang the mockingwords, “When the old man is dead you shall behappyDuring the forenoon of Monday, the sth of August,

Susan Gunnel , the maid , met her young mistress comingfrom the pantry

“ Oh,Susan , she exclaimed , “ I have been stirring

my papa’s water gruel ” ; and then, perceiving otherservants through the half-open door of the laundry

,she

added gaily, “ I f I was ever to take to eating anythingin particular i t would be oatmeal .No response came from the discreet Susan

,but she

marvelled,cal l ing to mind that M iss Blandy had said to

her some time previously, notic ing that she appearedunwel l

“ H ave you been eating any water gruel ? for I amtold that water gruel hurts me, and it may hurt you.

Later in the day, her wonder was increased when shesaw her mistress sti rr ing the gruel in a half-pint mug

,

putting her fingers into the spoon, and then rubbingthem together. I n the evening the same mug was takenas usual to the old man’s bedroom . On Tuesday nightM iss B landy sent down in haste to order gruel for herfather

,who had been ind isposed al l day

,and such was

her sol ic i tude that she met the footman'

0n the sta i rs,

and taking the basin from his hands, carried i t hersel finto the parlour. Early the next morning, while AnnEmmet

,the old charwoman , was busy at her wash-tub,

Susan Gunnel came from upstairs .“ Dame

,

” she observed,

“ you used to be fond of

THE LOVE PH ILTRE I S

water gruel . H ere i s a very fine mess my master leftlast n ight

,and I bel ieve i t wil l do you good .

S i tting down upon a bench,th i s most unfortunate old

lady proceeded to consume the contents of the bas in, andfor a second time was seized with a strange and violenti l lness. Soon afterwards M iss B landy came into thekitchen .

“ Susan, as your master has taken physic, he maywant some more water gruel, said she.

“ As there issome in the house you need not make fresh

,for you are

iron ing.

Madam,i t wi l l be stale, repl ied the servant. “ I t

wil l not hinder me much to make fresh .

A little later,while tast ing the stuff, Susan noticed

a whi te sediment at the bottom of the pan . G reatlyexc i ted, she ran to show Betty Binfield, the cook, whobore no good-will towards her young mistress .

“What oatmeal is th is ?” asked Betty, s ign ifican tly .

I t looks l ike flour.”

I have never seen oatmeal as wh ite before, said themaid .

Careful ly and thoroughly the suspic ious servantsexamined the contents of the saucepan , taking i t out ofdoors to view i t i n the l ight. And while they looked atthe white gri tty sediment they told each other in lowwhispers that th is must be poison . Locking up the pan,they showed it next day to the local apothecary, who,as usual in those t imes, was the s ick man

’s medicalattendant.Noth ing oqcurred to alarm the guil ty woman unt i l

Saturday. On that morning, i n the homely fash ion ofmiddle-class manners, the lawyer, who wanted to shave,came into the ki tchen, where hot water and a good fi rewere ready for h im . Accustomed to h is hab its, theservants went about thei r work as usual . Some troubleseemed to be preying upon his mind .

16 SOME D I STI NGU ISHED VICTIMS or THE SCAFFOLD

I was l ike to have been poisoned once , piped thefeeble old man,

turn ing hi s bloodshot eyes upon hisdaughter

,who was in the room .

“ I t was on th is same day , the tenth of Augus t,” he

continued,in his weak, trembl ing voice, for his frame

had become shattered during the las t week.

“ I t wasat the coffee-house or at the Lyon , and two othergentlemen were l ike to have been poisoned by whatthey drank .

”

“ S ir,I remember i t very wel l, repl ied the im

perturbable woman , and then fell to argu ing with herquerulous father at wh ich tavern the adventure hadtaken place.

“ One of the gentlemen died immediately , he t e

sumed , looking at her with a long, reproachful glance.“ The other i s dead now, and I have surv ived themboth . But —his piteous gaze grew more intense—“ it i smy fortune to be poisoned at last .”

A similar ordeal took place in a l ittle while . Atbreakfast Mr B landy seemed in great pain , makingmany complaints. As he sipped his tea, he declaredthat i t had a gri tty, bad taste , and would not drink i t.

“ H ave you not put too much of the black stuff intoit ? he demanded suddenly of h is daughter

,referring to

the can ister of Bohea .

This time she was unable to meet his searchingeyes .

I t is as usual , she stammered in confusion .

A moment later she rose,trembl ing and distressed

,and

hurriedly left the room . a:

There was reason for the old man’s suspicion . Beforehe had risen from his bed

,the fai thful Susan Gunnel

told him of the discovery in the pan of water gruel , andbo th agreed that the mysterious powder had been sentby Crans toun. Yet

,beyond what he had said at break

fast , and in the ki tchen , he questioned his daughter no


18 SOME DISTINGU ISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

DEAR W 1LLV,—My father is so bad that I have only

time to tel l you that if you do not hear from me soonagain

,don’t be frightened . I am better myself. Lest

any accident should happen to your letters be carefulwhat you write.My sincere compliments—I am ever, yours .

That even ing Norton ordered M iss Blandy from herfather’s room

,tel l ing Susan Gunnel to remain on the

watch,and admit no one . At last the heartless daughter

must have seen that some other defence was needed thanbl ind denial. S ti l l , the poor old sufferer persisted thatCranstoun was the sole author of the m isch ief. OnMonday morning, although sick almost to death , he sentthe maid with a message to h is daughter.

“ Tell her,

” said he, “ that I will forgive her if shewil l bring that vi llain to justice.I n answer to h is words, Miss B landy came to her

father’s bedroom in tears , and a suppl iant. SusanGunnel

,who was present, thus reports the interview.

“ S i r, how do you do ?” sa id she .

I am very i l l,” he repl ied .

Fall ing upon her knees, she said to h imBanish me or send me to any remote part of the

world . As to Mr Cranstoun, I will never see h im, speakto him , as long as I l ive, so as you wil l forgive me.

”

I forgive thee, my cl ear,

” he answered .

“ And I hopeGodwil l forgive thee, but thee should have consideredbetter than to have attempted anyth ing against thyfather. Thee shouldst have considered I was thy own

father.S i r, she protested ,

“ as to your i l lness I am enti relyinnocent ”

“ Madam ,

” interrupted old Susan Gunnel,

“ I bel ieveyou must not say you are enti rely innocent, for thepowder that was taken out of the water gruel, and the

THE LOVE PH ILTRE 19

paper ofpowder that was taken out of the fi re,are now

i n such hands that they must be publ icly produced. I

bel ieve I had one dose prepared for my master i n a dishoftea about six weeks ago.

I have put no powder into tea, repl ied M iss B landy.

I have put powder into water gruel, and if you areinjured,

” she assured her father, I am enti rely innocent,for i t was given me with another intent. ”

The dying man did not wai t for further explanat ion,but, turn ing in his bed, he cried

“ Oh, such a vil lain ! To come to my house, eat of thebest, drink of the best that my house could afford— to takeaway my l i fe, and ru in my daughter ! Oh

,my dear

,he

continued , “ thee must hate that man , thee must hatethe ground he treads on. Thee canst not help i t.

”

Oh , s ir, your tenderness towards me i s l ike a swordto my heart

,

” she answered . Every word you say is l ikeswords pierc ing my heart—much worse than if you wereto be ever so angry . I must down on my knees and begyou wi l l not curse me.

“ I curse thee, my dear he repl ied . How couldstthou think I could curse thee ? I bless thee, and hopethat God wi l l bless thee and amend thy l i fe. Go, mydear, go out of my room . Say no more, lest thoushouldst say anyth ing to thy own prejudice. Goto thy uncle S tevens ; take h im for thy friend . Poorman

,—I am sorry for h im.

”

The memory of the old servant, who repeated theabove conversation in her evidence at M iss Blandy

’

s

tr ial,would seem remarkable did we not bear in mind

that she went through various rehearsals before thecoroner and magistrates, and possibly with the lawyersfor the prosecution . Some embel l ishments also mustbe credited to the taste and fancy of Mr Riv ington

’

s

reporters. S t i l l , the gist must be t rue, and certain lyhas much pathos . Yet the father’s forgiveness of h is

z o SOME DISTI NGU ISHED V ICTIM! OF THE SCAFFOLD

daughter,when he must have known that her conduct

was w ilful,although piteous and noble, may not have

been the resul t ofpure al tru ism . Natural ly, the wish thatCranstoun alone was gui lty was parent to the thought.Whether the approach of eternity brough t a softeninginfluence upon him

,and he saw his fol l ies and errors in

the l ight of repentance , or whether the ru l ing passionstrong in death made the vain old man struggle to avertthe black d isgrace that threatened his good name, andthe keen legal intel lect

,which could counsel hi s daughter

so wel l,foresaw the coming escheatment of h is smal l

estate to the lord of the manor, are problems for the

student ofpsychology.

During the course of the day brother leech Lewis ofOxford—a master-builder of pharmacopoeia—was summoned by the sturdy begetter of statesmen , and therewas much bobbing of learned wigs and nice conduct of

medical canes . Addington asked the dying man whombe suspected to be the giver of the poison .

“ A poor love-s ick girl ,” murmured the old lawyer,

smil ing through his tears. “ I forgive her—I alwaysthought there was misch ief i n those cursed Scotchpebbles .I n the evening a drast ic step was taken . Acting on

the principle of ‘ thorough ,’ which made his son’s occu

pancy of the H ome Offi ce so memorable at a later period,

the stern doctor accused Miss Blandy of the crime, andsecured her keys and papers. Conquered by fear

,the

steal thy woman for a while lost al l sel f-possession. I nan agony ofshame and terror she sought to sh ield herselfby the pretence of superstit ious folly. Wringing herhands in a seeming agony of remorse

,she declared that

her lover had ruined her.I received the powder from Mr Cranstoun,

shecried, “ with a present of Scotch pebbles. H e had wroteon the paper that held i t

,

‘The powder to clean the

THE LOVE PH ILTRE 2 I

pebbles with.

’He assured me that it was harmless

,and

that if I would give my father“

some of i t now and then,

a l i ttle and a l i ttle at a t ime, i n any l iquid, i t would makehim ki nd to h im and to me.”

I n a few scath ing questions the worldly-wise Addington cast ridicule upon this weird story of a love phil tre.Taking the law into his own resolute hands, with the consent ofcol league Lewis he locked the wretched woman inher room and placed a guard over her. Little could bedone to rel ieve the sufferings ofpoor ten-thousand-poundB landy—who proved to be a mere four-thousand-poundattorney when it came to the test—and on Wednesdayafternoon, the i 4th of August, be closed h is proud old

eyes for ever. I n her desperation the gu i l ty daughtercould th ink ofnaught but escape. On the evening of herfather’s death, impel led by an i rresist ible frenzy to fleefrom the scene ofher butchery, she begged the footmanin vain to assist her to get away. During Thursdaymorning—for i t was not possible to keep her in custodywithout legal warrant—a l i ttle group of children saw adishevelled figure coming swiftly along the H igh S treettowards the river. At once there arose the cry of

Murderess and, surrounded by an angry mob , she wasdriven to take refuge in a neighbouring inn . I t was vainto battle against fate. That same afternoon the coroner

’

sinquest was held, and the verdict pronounced her a parricide . On the fol lowing Saturday

,in charge of two

constables, she was driven i n her father’s carriage to

Oxford Castle. An enraged populace, th inking that shewas trying again to escape, surrounded the vehicle, andsought to prevent her from leaving the town .

Owing to the social position of the accused, and theenorm ity of her offence, the eyes of the whole nat ionwere turned to the tragedy at H enley. Gossips of theday, such as H orace Walpole and Tate Wilkinson, tel lus that the story of Miss B landy was upon every l ip .

22 SOME D I STI NGU ISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

In Spi te of the noble i rony of ‘ Drawcansi r ’ F ield ing,j ournal ists and pamphleteers had no sc ruple in referringto the prisoner as a wicked murderess or a cruel parricide .

Yet the case of H enry Coleman , who, during theAugust of th is year , had been proved innocent of acrime for which he had suffered death , should havewarned the publ ic against hasty assumption . For sixmonths the dark woman was wait ing for her trial.Although i t was the custom for a j ai lor to make anexhibition of his capt ive to anyone who would pay theentrance fee, nobody was allowed to see M iss B landywithout her consent. Two comfortable rooms were setapart for her in the keeper

’s house she was free to takewalks in the garden , and to have her own maid . Atlast, when stories of a premeditated escape were noisedabroad

,Secretary Newcastle, i n a usual state of fuss

,

fear ing that she might repeat the achievement of QueenMaud

,gave orders that she must be put in i rons. At

first Thomas N ewel l, who had succeeded her father astown clerk of H enley four years previously, was employed in her defence , but he offended her by speakingof Cranstoun as “ a mean-looking, l i tt le, ugly fel low,

” andso she dismissed h im in favour of Mr Rives, a lawyerfrom Woodstock . H er old invincible courage had re

turned, and only once—when she l earnt the paltry valueOfher father’s fortune—did she lose self-possession. Fora dismal echo must have come back in the mocking words

,

“When the old man is in h is grave you shal l be happy.

”

At last the magistrates—Lords Cadogan and ‘NewS tyle ’ Macclesfield,

who had undertaken duties wh ichin later days Mr Newton or M r Montagu Will iams wouldhave shared with Scotland Yard—finish their muchpraised detective work, and on Tuesday, the 3rd of March17 52 , Mary Blandy is brought to the bar. The Courtmeets i n the d ivin i ty school

,s ince the town-hall i s

i n the hands of the Bri t ish workman , and because the



Universi ty, so ‘ S i r Alexander D rawcansir ’ tel ls h isreaders, will not al low the use of the S heldonian Theatre.Why the most beautiful room in Oxford should bedeemed a fi tter place of desecration than the archbishop’s monstrosity i s not made clear . An accidentdelays the trial— th is second ‘Great Oyer of Poison ing !’

There i s a small stone or other obstruction in the lock—can some sentimental , wry-brained undergraduatethink to aid the gal lows-hero ine of his fancy ? —andwhile i t is being removed, J udges Legge and Smythereturn to their lodgings.At eight o’clock, Mary Blandy, calm and stately,

s tands beneath the graceful fretted ceil ing,facing the

tribunal . From wal l to wal l an eager crowd has fi lledthe long chamber, surging through the doorway, flowingin at the open windows, j ostl ing even against the prisoner.A chair is placed for her in case offatigue, and her maidis by her side. A plain and neat dress befits her serenemanner—a black bombaz ine short saegne (the garb ofmourning), white l inen kerchief, and a thick crape shadeand hood . F rom the memory of those present hercountenance can never fade. A broad high forehead ,above which her th ick j et hair i s smoothed under a capa pair of fine black sparkl ing eyes the colouring almostof a gipsy ; cheeks with scarce a curve ; mouth full , butshowing no softness nose large

,straight , determ ined

i t is the face of one of those rare women who command,not the love

,but the obedience of mankind . S t ill i t i s

intel l igent , not unseduct ive , compell ing ; and yet, i nspite of the deep , flash ing eyes

,without radiance of soul

—the face of a sombre-hearted woman .

Black, i ndeed , i s the indictment that Bathurst, avenerable young barrister who represents the Crown ,unfolds against her

,but only once during his burst of

carefully-matured eloquence is there any change i n herserenity. When the future Lord Chancellor declares

24 SOME DISTI NGU ISHED V ICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

that the base Cranstoun “ had fallen i n love,not with

her, but with her fortune, the woman’s i nst inct cannot

tolerate the reflection upon her charms, and she darts alook of bitterest scorn upon the speaker. And only oncedoes she show a trace of human softness. When hergodmother, old Mrs Mountenay, i s leaving the witness

box,she repeats the curtsey which the pri soner had

previously disregarded, and then , i n an impulse of pity ,presses forward, and, seiz ing M iss Blandy

’

s hand, ex

claims,

“ God bless you !” At last, and for the fi rst

time,the tears gather in the accused woman

’

s eyes.Many abuses, handed down from a previous century,

sti l l render barbarous the procedure of criminal tr ials.The case is hurried over in one day ; counsel for theprisoner can only examine witnesses , but not address thejury ; the prosecution is accustomed to put forwardevidence of which the defence has been kept in ignorance . Yet no injustice is done to Mary Blandy . Thirteen hours i s enough to tear the veil from her sombreheart ; the tongue of N estor would fai l to show herinnocent ; of all that her accusers can say of her sheis well aware. N ever for one moment is the issuein doubt. What can her scoffing, scept ic age, with i tscold-blooded sent iment and tame romance

,th ink of a

credul i ty that employed a love-potion in the guise ofaffection but with the resul t of death ! H ow is i tpossible to judge a daughter who pers isted in her blackart

,al though its dire effects were v isible

,not once, but

many times ! H er defence,when at last i t comes , i s

spoken bravely, but better had been left unsaid .

“ My lords , she begins, “ i t is morally impossible forme to lay down the hardsh ips I have rece ived .

I have been aspersed in my character. I n the firstplace, i t has been said that I have spoke il l of myfather ; that I have cursed him and wished him at hel l ;which is extremely false. Sometimes l i ttle family affai rs


have happened,and he did not Speak to me so kind as I

could wish . I own I am passionate, my lords, and inthose passions some hasty expressions might have dropt.But great care has been taken to recollect every wordI have spoken at different t imes, and to apply them tosuch particular purposes as my enemies knew would dome the greatest injury. These are hardships, my lords,extreme hardships —such as you yourselves must allowto be so. I t was said , too, my lords, that I endeavouredto make my escape . Your lordsh ips wil l j udge from thedifficu l t ies I laboured under. I had lost my father—Iwas accused ofbeing h is murderer—I was not permittedto go near him—I was forsaken by my friends—affrontedby the mob—insul ted by my servants . Although I

begged to have the l iberty to l isten at the door where hed ied, I was not al lowed i t. My keys were taken fromme, my shoe-buckles and garters too—to prevent mefrom making away with myself

,as though I was the

most abandoned creature . What could I do, my lords ?I veri ly bel ieve I was out ofmy senses. When I heardmy father was dead and the door open, I ran out of thehouse, and over the bridge, and had nothing on but a halfsack and pett icoat, without a hoop, my pett icoats hanging about me. The mob gathered about me . Was th isa condition , my lords, to make my escape in ? A goodwoman beyond the bridge, seeing me in th is d istress,desired me to walk in ti l l the mob was di spersed . Thetown sergeant was there . I begged he would take meunder his protect ion to have me home . The woman saidi t was not proper, the mob was very great, and that Ihad better stay a l i ttle. When I came home they saidI used the constable i l l . I was locked up for fifteenhours, with only an old servant of the family to attendme. I was not allowed a maid for the common decenciesofmy sex. I was sent to gaol , and was in hopes, there,at least, th is usage would have ended, but was told i t


was repo rted I was frequently drunk—that I attempted tomake my escape—that I never attended the chape l. A

more abstemious woman , my lords, I bel ieve, does not l ive .

Upon the report of my making my escape , the gentleman who was H igh Sheriff last year (not the present )came and told me , by order of the h igher powers , hemust put an i ron on me . I submitted

,as I always do to

the higher powers. Some time after, he came agai n , andsaid he must put a heavier upon me, which I haveworn , my lords, t i l l I came hither. I asked the Sheriffwhy I was so ironed ? H e said he d id i t by commandof some noble peer, on h is hearing that I i ntended tomake my escape. I told them I never had such athought, and I would bear i t with the other c ruel usageI had received on my character. The Rev . Mr.Swinton

,the worthy clergyman who attended me i n

prison , can testi fy that I was very regular at the chapelwhen I was wel l . Sometimes I real ly was not able tocome out, and then he attended me in my room . Theyl ikewise publ ished papers and deposi tions wh ich oughtnot to have been publ ished, i n order to represent me asthe most abandoned of my sex, and to prejudice theworld against me . I submit myself to your lordsh ips,and to the worthy jury. I can assure your lordships

,as

I am to answer i t before that Grand Tribunal where Imust appear, I am as innocent as the child unborn of thedeath of my father. I would not endeavour to save myl ife at the expense of truth . I real ly thought the powderan innocent, inoffensive th ing , and I gave i t to procurehis love. I t was mentioned, I should say, I was ruined .

My lords, when a young woman loses her character, isnot that her ru in ? Why, then , should th is expressionbe construed in so wide a sense ? I s i t not ruin ing mycharacter to have such a thing laid to my charge ? Andwhatever may be the event of th is trial , I am m i nedmost effectually.

”


A strange apology—amaz ing in i ts effrontery !Gentle Heneage Legge speaks long and tenderly,

while the l isteners shudder with horror as they hear thedismal h istory unfolded in all ent irety for the first t ime.No innocent heart could have penned that last briefwarn ing to her lover—none but an accompl ice wouldhave received his cryptic message. Every word in thetestimony ofthe stern doctor seems to hai l her parricide—every action of her steal thy career has been notedby the watchful eyes of her servants. And, as if indamning confirmation of her guilt, there i s the blackrecord of her fl ight from the scene of crime. E ighto’clock has sounded when the judge has finished . Fora few moments the jury converse in hurr ied whispers.I t is ominous that they make no attempt to leave thecourt

,but merely draw closer together. Then, after

the space of five minutes they turn, and the harshtones of the clerk of arraigns sound through thechambe r.

“ Mary Blandy, hold up thy hand . Gentlemen ofthe jury

,look upon the prisoner. How say you : I s

Mary B landy gu il ty of the felony and murder whereofshe stands indicted

,or not gui lty ?

Gui l ty ! comes the low , reluctant answer.N ever has more piteous drama been played within

the cold fai r wal ls of the div in ity school than thatrevealed by the guttering candles on th is chil l Marchn ight. Amidst the long black shadows, through whichgleam countless rows ofpal l id faces, in the deep silence,broken at intervals by hushed sobs, the invinc iblewoman stands with unruffled mien to receive hersentence . AS the verdict i s declared, a smile seems toplay upon her l ips . While the j udge, with tearful eyesand broken voice, pronounces her doom, she l istenswithout a sign of fear. There i s a brief, breathless

pause, whi le all wai t with fierce-beating hearts for her

28 SOME D ISTI NGU ISHED V ICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

reply. No t race of terror impedes her utte rance.Thanking the judge for his candour and impart ial i ty,she turns to her counsel , among whom only RichardAston rose to eminence, and, with a touch of prettyforethought

,wishes them better success in thei r other

causes . Then , and her voice grows more solemn , shebegs for a l i ttl e t ime to sett le her affairs and to makeher peace wi th God . To which h is lordsh ip repl ieswith great emotion

“ To be sure , you shal l have proper time al lowedyou .

When she is conducted from the court she stepsinto her coach with the air of a bel le whose chair i s totake her to a fashionable rout. The fatal news hasreached the prison before her arrival . As she entersthe keeper’s house, which for so long has been herhome

,she finds the family overcome with gri ef and

the children all i n tears .Don’t mind it, she cries , cheerfully.

“ What doesi t matter ? I am very hungry. Pray let me havesomething for supper as soon as possible.That sombre heart of hers is a brave one also .

All th is t ime Will iam Cranstoun, worthy brother in .

al l respects of S imon Tappertit, had been in hid ingin Scotland perhaps, or, as some say, i n Northumberland

watching with fearful quakings for the resul t of thetrial . Shortly after the conviction of his accomplice hemanaged to take ship to the Cont inent, and luckily forhis country he never polluted i ts soi l again . There areseveral contemporary accounts of h is adventures inF rance and in the Netherlands, to which the curiousmay refer. All agree that he confessed his share in themurder when he was safe from justice . With unaccus

tomed propriety , our Lady Fate soon hastened to snapthe thread of his existence

,and on the 3rd ofDecember

of this same year, at the l i ttle town of Furnes in F landers,


30 SOME DISTINGUIS IIED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

O riginal ly the execution had been fixed for Saturday,the 4th ofApril , but is postponed unti l the fol lowingMonday

,because the Un iversi ty authori ties do not thi nk

i t seemly that the sentence shall be carried out duringHoly Week. A great crowd collects i n the earlymorn ing outs ide the prison walls before the announcement of the short reprieve, and i t speaks marvels forthe d isc ipl ine of the gaol that M iss Blandy is allowedto go up into rooms facing the Castle G reen so thatshe can view the throng. Gaz ing upon the assemblywithout a tremor, she says merely that S he wi ll notbalk their expectat ions much longer. On Sunday shetakes sacrament for the last time , and s igns a declarationin which she denies once more al l knowledge that thepowder was poisonous . I n the even ing, hearing thatthe Sheriff has arrived in the town

,she sends a request

that she may not be disturbed unti l e ight o’clock thenext morn ing.

I t was half-pas t the hour she had named when thedismal procession reached the door of her chamber.The Under-Sheriff was accompanied by the Rev. J ohnSwinton , and by her friend Mr Rives, the lawyer.Although her courage did not fal ter

,she appeared meek

and repentant, and spoke with anxiety of her futurestate, i n doubt whether she would obtain pardon forher sins . This peni tent mood encouraged the clergyman to beg her declare the whole truth , to wh ich shereplied that she must persist i n asserting her innocenceto the end . No entreaty would induce her to retractthe solemn avowal .At n ine o’clock she was conducted from her room

,

dressed in the same black gown that she had worn atthe trial , with her hands and arms tied by strong blackSilk ribbons. A crowd Of fiv e thousand persons, hushedand expectant, was wait ing on the Cas tle Green towitnes s her sufferings . Thi rty yards from the door


i n the afternoon the coffin contain ing her remains wastaken in a hearse to H enley, where, i n the dead ofnight,amidst a vast concourse, i t was interred in the chancelof the parish church between the graves

'

of her fatherand mother.So died ‘ the unfortunate M iss B landy,

’ i n thethirty-second year of her age—with a grace and valourwhich no scene on the scaffold has ever excel led . I f, asthe authors of l e B eggar

’

s Opera and Tbe H istory of

fonatban W ild have sought to Show, i n playful i rony,the greatness of the criminal is comparable with thegreatness of the statesman, then she must rank withMary of Scotland and Catherine of Russ ia among thequeens of crime. H ers was the soul of steel , theirs al sothe Opportun ity.

I n every period the enormity ofa sin can be estimatedonly by i ts relation to the spiri t of the age and in spiteofcant and sophistry, the contemporaries ofMiss B landymade no legal d ist inct ion between the crimes of parricideand petty larceny. Nay, the same rope that strangled thebru tal cut-throat in a few moments might prolong theagony ofa poor th ief for a quarter ofan hour. Had thedoctors succeeded in saving the l ife of the old attorney,the strange law which in later t imes put to deathE l izabeth Penning would have been powerless todemand the l ife of Mary B landy for a similar offence .

The protests of J ohnson and F ield ing against thein iqui ty of the criminal code fel l on idle ears .Thus we may not judge Mary B landy from the

standpoint of our own moral grandeur, for she is abeing of another world—one of the vain

,wilful

,selfish

children to whom an early Guelph was king—merelyone of the blackest sheep in a flock for the most part i l lfavoured . As we gaze upon her portrai t there comes afeel ing that we do not know th is sombre woman after all

,

for though the art ist has produced a faithful resemblance,

34 SOME D I STI NGU ISHED V ICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

we perceive there i s someth ing lacking. We look in topar t

,not into her whole soul . None but one of the

immortal s—Rembrandt, or his peer—could have shownth is queen among criminals as she was an iron-hearted ,remorseless

,demon-woman

,her fair

,cruel vi sage ra ised

mockingly amidst a Chiaroscuro of crime and murkinessunspeakable .

a narrow, foxyface,Heart-hiding smile, and gay persistent eye.

I n our own country the women of gentle bi rth whohave been convicted of murder S ince the beginn ing ofthe eighteenth century may be counted on the fingersof one hand . Mary Blandy

,Constance Kent

,F lorence

Maybrick—for that unsavoury person, E l izabeth

J efferies , has no claim to be numbered in the roll, andthe verdict against beaut iful Madele ine Smith was ‘ Notproven —these names exhaust the l is t. And of them ,

the first alone paid the penal ty at the gal lows . Theannals of crime contain the records of many parric ides,some that have been premeditated with devil i sh art,but scarce one that a daughter has wrought by the mostloathsome of coward

’s weapons. I n comparison withthe murderess of H enley

,even Frances H oward and

Anne Turner were gui lty of a venial crime. MaryBlandy stands alone and incomparable—pi l loried to allages among the basest of her sex .

Yet the world soon forgot her. “ S ince the two misseswere hanged

,

” chats H orace Walpole on the 23rd ofJ une, coupling irreverent ly the names of Blandy andJefferies with the beautiful Gunnings—“ since the twomisses were hanged , and the two mi sses were married ,there i s nothing at all talked of.

” Society, however,soon found a new thri l l in the adventures of the youngwoman E l i zabeth Canning.

B IBLIOGRAPHY OF THE BLANDY CASE 37

23. TbeFemaleParricide, or the H istory ofMary-Margaret d’Aubray, March ionessof Brinvillier. In which a paral le l is drawn between the Marchioness and

Miss Blandy. C. Micklewright, Reading. Sold by J . Newbe ry. Price(March 5,

Lowndes mentions also24 . An Impartial Inquiry into tlze Case of Miss B landy. W ith reflections on

herTrial , Defence, Repen tance, Denial, Death . 1753. 8vo.

25. Tlze Female Parr icide. A Tragedy, by Edward Crane, of Manchester .176 1 . 8vo.

26 . A Letter from a Gentleman to Miss B landy with her answer thereto. 1752.

(Possibly the same as A Letter from a Clergyman.

The two fol lowing are advertised in the newspapers ofthe day27 . Case of Miss B landy and Miss fefi

'

reys fairly stated , and compared.R. Robinson, Golden Lion, Ludgate Street . (March 26, 17

28. Genuine Letters between Aliss B landy and Missjefi'

ries before and after thei rConv ict ion . J. Scot t Exchange A l ley ; W . Owen, Temple Bar ; G . W oodfa ll ,Charing Cross . (April 2 1,

29 . Broadside. Execution of Miss B landy. Pitts, Printer, Toy and MarbleW arehouse, 6 Great St. Andrew’s S t . Seven D ials . Brit . Mus.

30. Tbe Addl. MS S . 15930. Manuscript Department in the Brit. Mus .

II. CONTEMPORARY NEW SPAPERS AND MAGAZ INES

1. Read’s W eeklyjournal, March andApri l February 3

2. Tbe General Advertiser, August-November ( I 7 March and April

3. Tbe London E vening Post, March andApril ( 174 . Tbe Covent Garden journal (S ir Alexander Drawcansir), February, March,

andApril5. Tbe London Morning Penny Post, August and September6 . Gentleman

’s Magazine, pp . 376 , 486

-88 pp . 108—17 , 152, 188, 195pp 47 . I SI p . 803. pt. 11.

7 . UniversalMagazine, pp . 1 14-124, 187 , 2818 .

)London Maga zine, pp . 379, 475, 512 ( I 751 ), pp . 127 , 180

,p. 89

I 7S3

NOTESNOTE I.—In recent years the guilt of Cranstoun has been questioned . Yet a

supposi tion that does not explain two damning circumstances must be baseless(a) In the first place, one ofhis letters to Miss Blandy, dated July 18, 1751 ,

was read by Bathurst in his Opening speech . A lthough the reports ofthe trialdo not tel l us that the note was produced in court, or that the handwr iting wasverified, i t cannot be presumed that the Crown lawyers were guilty of wilfu lfabrication. However strange i t may appear tha t this letter alone escapeddes truction, i t is improbable that Miss Blandy invented it . Had she done so itscontents would have been more consistent with her defence. As i t stands i t ismost unfavourable to her. Therefore, in the absence of further ev idence, wemus t conclude that the letter is genuine , and if genuine Cranstoun was an

accomplice.

(b) In the second place, the paper containing the poison wh ich was rescuedfrom the fire

,is said by the prosecution to have borne the inscription in Cran

26 4 3 9 7

38 SOME DISTINGU I SH ED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

stoun'

s handwrit ing, Powder to clean the pebbles. ’ If this had been counte rfeit , Miss Blandy would have had no object in destroying it, but would havekept it for her

At any cost LordN

Granstoun must have been anxious to remove the black stainfrom his scutcheon. That this was im '

ble the fact that i t was not done seems toprove. Indeed

,ifCaptain Cranstoun been ignorant of the crime, he could have

proved his innocence as soon as Miss Blandy was arrested producing her le tters,which , grantingthis hypothes is , would have contained no re erence that would haveincriminated him. That she had written a great deal to him was shown in ev idenceat the tr ial by the clerk Lyt tleton.

For these reasons i t is impossible to accept the conclus ion of the wri ter of

Cranstoun’s l ife in the D ie. Nat . B iog. (who has ado ted the assertion in Anderson’s

S cottish Nation,vol. i. p. that “ apart from it s Blandy

’s statemen t there is

no th ing to convi ct him ofthe murder. "NOTE I I .—Anderson’s statement that there does not appear to be anyg

roundsfor suppos ing that Captain Cranstoun was in anywayaccessory to the murder, showsthat he had not a complete knowledge of the facts at his disposal , or that he did not

weigh them with prec ision. Miss Blandy'

s intercepted letter to her lover affords astrong presumption of his connivance, and her dest ruction of his co rrespondencesugges ts that i t contained incriminating deta ils. That these two actions were subtledevices to cast suspicion upon Cranstoun cannot be maintained with an show ofplaus ibility , for in th is case Miss B landy , if dexterous enough to weave su a craftyplot, must have foreseen its exposure , and with such exposure her own inev i tablemin,

when to prove that he was not an accomplice her lover had produced the letters shehad written to him. Thus to support such an assumption i t mus t be shown thatCranstoun had prev iously destroyed every particle of her handwrit ing, and that shewas aware of the fac t. Of such an improbable circumstance there is , of course, noevidence.

NOTE I I I . O ld Benchers ofthe Middle Temple, E ssays q lia. The relativeofMiss Blandy, with whom Mr Samuel Sal t was diningwhen he made the unfortunateremark which Lamb repeats , may have been Mr Serjeant Henry Stephens ofDoctors’Commons, who was hermaternal uncle.

NOTE IV.-The date ofMiss Blandy’s birth is not given in the Die. Nat. B iog.

From the register of Henley Parish Church it appears that she was baptized on

July 15, 1720.


THE UNFORTUNATE BROTHERS

CASE OF ROBERT AND DANIEL PERREAU AND

MRS MARGARET CAROLINE RUDD,1 7 75

-6

What’s this dull town to me ?Robin

’s not near ;

He whom I wish to see,

Wish for to hear.

W here’s all the joy andmirth,Made life a heaven on earth ?Oh ! they

’re allfled with thee,

Robin Adair.

WHEN tenor Braham sent his plaint ive air ringingthrough the town , few were al ive who could recall thetwo prev ious occasions on which also the name of Adairwas upon every l ip. One day in February 1 758 all

London had been sti rred by the elopement Of LadyCarol ine Keppel , daughter of second Earl Albemarle,with a rol l icking I rish physician who may have beenthe Robert Of the ballad while during the summer of1 7 75 the whole world was wondering whether a man ora most beautiful woman must go to Tyburn for usingthe s ignature Of Mr William Adair

,the rich army agent

,

cous in to D r Robin of wedding and song. I n the firstromance the hero received the just t i tl e Of the fortunateI rishman ’

: i n the latter the chief personages were‘ the unfortunate brothers

,

’ Messrs Robert and DanielPerreau . Their d isaster happened thus

39


On a Tuesday morn ing, the 7 th of March 1 7 75, aslender

,middle-aged gentleman walked into the counting

house Of Messrs Drummond , the great bankers of

Charing Cross Garbed in a trim snuff-coloured sui t, andbet raying none of the macaron i eccentric i ties with theexception of a gold-laced hat, his dress su ited the rOle

that he played in l ife—a sleek and prosperous apothecary.

This M r Robert Perreau of Golden Square waswelcomed cordial ly by H enry D rummond , one Of thepartners in the firm ,

for an apothecary was almost aseminent as a doctor, and the men had met and knowneach other at such houses as my Lord Egmont

'

s or

that Of my Lady Lyttelton . Producing as securi ty abond for 257 500, bearing a signature that should havebeen honoured by any house in London , the visi torrequested a loan of 5000. H owever, strange to say,banker H enry, who had been joined by his brotherRobert , seemed dissat isfied .

“ This bond is made payable to you, he remarked.

Was you present when i t was executedNo , I was not present ,

” was Mr Perreau’

s reply.

I t i s not the signature OfWill iam Adair, the latearmy agent Of Pall Mal l ,

” was the startl ing commentOf Robert Drummond .

“ I have seen his drafts manya time !”

The prim countenance of the apothecary remainedunperturbed .

There is no doubt but i t is h is hand,he answered

,

with perfect composure,

“ for i t i s witnessed by M r ArthurJ ones , his sol ic i tor, and by Thomas S tark, h is servant.

”

I t is very Odd,

” repl ied the incredulous RobertD rummond .

“ I have seen his hand formerly,and this

does not appear to be the least l ike i t.Brother H enry D rummond echoed the same sentiment

,

whereupon Mr Robert Perreau waxed mysterious andemphatic .

THE UNFORTUNATE BROTHERS 4 !

Mr Adair is my particular friend,he declared .

There are fami ly connect ions between us . MrAdair has money of mine in his hands, and al lows meinterest.”

“ Come to-morrow, Mr Perreau , sa id H enry D rummond, “ and we wi ll give you an answer.Having received this prom ise the apothecary de

parted, but after the lapse Of two hours he returned, andwas seen by banker H enry once more . Without theleast reserve he confessed that he had been muchconcerned by what the Messrs D rummond had toldh im .

“ I could not be easy in my mind t i l l I had cal ledon Mr Adai r,

” he explained . Luckily I catched himin h is boots before he went to take his ride.Natural ly

,the good banker l istened with interest,

noting the words,for i t seemed Odd that Mr Will iam

Adair, the rich squire Of F l ixton Hall in Suffolk, whoseson was carrying on the army agency, should raisemoney in such a style .

I produced the bond to Mr Adai r, Robert Perreaucontinued . I t was his s ignature

,he said, but he might

possibly have al tered his hand from the time you hadseen him write . You might let me have the

1:5000, Mr Adair said, and he would pay the bond i nMay, though i t is not payable t i l l J une.The astute banker, who had talked the matter over

wi th h is brother in the interim, d id not express h isdoubts so strongly.

“ Leave the bond with me, he suggested to h isv isi tor, “ i n order that we may get an assignment of i t.Which proposal Mr Robert Perreau assented to

readily,bel ieving, no doubt, that i t was a preface to the

payment Of his money . I n the course Of the day thedocument was shown to a friend Of Mr Adair, and finallyexhibited to the agent himself. Attent ive to the hour

42 SOME DISTI NGU I SHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

Of h is appointment, Mr Perreau left h is gall ipots i nGolden Square

,and reached the Charing Cross bank

at eleven o’clock on the following morn ing. Bothpartners were ready for h im , and suggested tha t toclear up al l doubts i t would be wise to cal l upon M rWill iam Adai r without delay. To th is the apothecaryassented very readily—i ndeed, i n any case a refusalwould have aroused the worst suspicions. As it was awet morn ing, he had come in h is elegant town coach ,and he drove Off immediately wi th one of the bankersto the house Of the late agent i n Pal l Mall . Uponthei r entrance the squire of F l ixton took Mr H enryD rummond by the hand, but, to the surprise of theworthy banker, made a bow merely to the man who

had boasted him as his ‘ particular friend .

’ Then,the

bond being produced , Mr Adair at once repudiated thesignature. For the first t ime Robert Perreau betrayedaston ishment.

Surely,s ir, cried he,

“

you are j ocular !A haughty glance was the sole response Of the

wealthy agent.“ I t is no time to be jocular when a man’s l ife i s

at stake, retorted the indignant H enry D rummond.“What can al l th is mean ? The person you pretend tobe intimate wi th does not know you.

”

“Why,’t is evident this is not Mr Adair’s hand ,

added his brother, who had just arrived, with s imilarwarmth , pointing to the forged name .

I know nothing at all of i t, protested the confusedapothecary.

You are ei ther the greatest fool or the greates tknave I ever saw,

” the angry banker continued.

“ I donot know what to make of you . You must accountfor this. How came you by the bond 9

Then there was a h int that a constable had beensummoned, and i t would be best to name his accompl ices.

THE UNFORTUNATE BROTHERS 43

How came you by the bond ?” repeated MrDrummond .

At last the bewi ldered M r Perreau seemed to real i sethe gravity ofhis pos it ion .

That wil l appear,he repl ied

,i n answer to the last

remark, i f you wi l l send for my Sister.”

Who may She beWhy, my brother Mr Daniel Perreau

’

s wife.Call ing his servant

,the apothecary bade him take the

coach for his s ister-in-law, who, he said , might be at herhome in Harley S treet, but most l ikely with his w ife ath is own house in Golden Square. I t was evident thatthe carriage d id not go farther than the latter direct ion,for i n a Short t ime i t brought back the lady, who wasushered into the room . Then indeed the hearts Ofthose three hard-pated men of finance must have beensoftened , for their eyes could have rested upon no moredazzl ing vision of feminine lovel iness with in the Brit ishI sles. Of medium height

,her figure was shaped in the

robust l ines of graceful womanhood , but the face, whichbeamed with an express ion ofchi ldish innocence

,seemed

the daintiest of miniatures, with tiny, shell-l ike features,and the clearest and fairest Skin . I n the fashion Of thetime her hair was combed upward, reveal ing a highforehead

,and the ample curls which fel l on either

side towards her neck nestled beneath the smallest Ofears. Without a t inge Of colour

,her complexion was

rel ieved only by her red l ips,but the healthy pallor

served to heighten her radiant beauty. A th in tightribbon encircled her slender neck . Below the elbowthe close sleeves Of her polonese terminated i n l ittle tuftsof lace, while long gloves concealed her round, plumparms . D ress

,under the influence Of art, was beginning

to cast Off i ts squalor.Grasping the s i tuation in a moment, th i s lovely Mrs

Daniel Perreau asked if She might speak with her


brother-in-law alone, but the request was refused . Thenthe beauty

,making ful l use of her shin ing blue eyes,

besought Mr Adai r to grant her a private interview.

But the Old man—not such a gay dog as k insmanRobin—was proof against these bland ishments .

“ You are quite a stranger to me,” he answered , “ and

you can have no conversation that does not pass beforethese gentlemen .

”

For a short time the beaut iful woman appearedincapable Of reason . At last she seemed to make asudden decision .

“My brother M r Perreau i s innocent, she cried, inan agony Of distress. “ I gave h im the bond . I

forged it ! For God’s sake , have mercy on aninnocent man . Consider his wife and children .

Nobody was meant to be injured . All wil l be repaid. ”

I t i s a man’s Signature,” objected one Ofthe bankers.

How could you forge i t ?

Seiz ing a pen and sheet of paper, she imi tated thename on the bond with such amazing fidel i ty that allwere convinced. Then, according to promise, RobertD rummond destroyed the wri t ing

,for he, at least, was

determined that no advantage should be taken Of herconfidence .

Little information was gained from Daniel Perreautwin brother Of the apothecary—who had been summonedfrom his spacious home in Harley S treet, save shrugsOf shoulders and words of surpr ise. Between him andRobert there was a Striking l ikeness. Both were handsome and wel l-proportioned men

,but a ful l flavour Of

macaroni d istinguished the newcomer—a‘ fine puss

gentleman ’ Of the adventurous type. To him dress wasas sacred as to his great predecessor, Mr John Rann ofthe S ixteen S trings

,who only a few months previously

had met with a fatal accident near the Tyburn turnpike.I ndeed , the macaron i was as great an autocrat as the


46 SOME DISTI NGU I SH ED vxcrms OF THE SCAF'FOLD

the treacherous apothecary, and committed h im as wel las the lady to the Bridewel l at Toth il l F ields. On thenext day, fop Daniel—a base fellow

,who had acted

as decoy while h is brother was effecting the betrayalwas sen t to keep them company. I t was a rueful hourfor the two Perreaus when they tried to pi t thei r wi tsagainst a woman .

On Wednesday morning, the 1sth Of March , i n expectat ion that the three dist ingu i shed pri soners would appearbefore S i r J ohn F ie ld ing, the Bow S treet court wasbesieged by so large a crowd that i t was deemed prudentto adjourn to more commodious quarters in the Guildhall , Westminster. Surpris ing revelat ions were forthcoming. It was found that the forgery d iscoveredseven days ago was only one Of many. Two other

persons—D r Brooke and Admiral S i r Thomas Frankland—less cautious than the D rummonds, came forwardto declare that they had obl iged the ir friend MrPerreau by discount ing s imi lar bonds , all Of whichbore the signature Of Wi ll iam Adair ! Plain indeedwas the motive Of Robert’s betrayal . I t was notenough that the bankers should forgive h im—it wasneedful that the woman must answer as scapegoat formuch more.N ever had a fairer prisoner stood before the bl ind

magistrate than the intended v ictim . Above a stripedsil k gown She wore a pink cloak trimmed with ermine,and a small black bonnet—as usual , daintiest Of thedainty

,i n spi te Of her tears and shame . H i therto

,

she had given splendid proofs Of courage and loyalty,

but treachery had changed her heart to stone, andshe lent herself to a cunning revenge. A youthfulbarrister named Bai ley, who was hovering around BowS treet soon after her arrest, had been lucky enoughto be accepted as her counsel . Clever almost as hiscl ient—in spite of contemporary l ibels from Grub S treet,


that repute h im more intimate with Ovid’

s A rt ofLove than Glanv ill or Bracton—he came forward withthe naive suggestion that she Should be admitted asevidence for the Crown ! And a witness she was madethere and then, two days later being let loose on bail ,which created a very pretty legal causerie in a l ittlewh ile. On the other hand, the unhappy brothers werecommitted to the N ew Prison , Clerkenwell , on thecapi tal charge of forgery. All th is was very welcomeentertainment for the fash ionable mob that crushedinto the Westminster Gui ldhall .The repartee Of one of S i r J ohn’s myrmidons

,Often

quoted by wags Of the time as an excellent joke, is notwithout its moral . One of the doorkeepers refusedentrance to a certain person on the ground that he hadbeen told to admit only gentlemen .

“ That is Mr the great apothecary, quoth abystander.

“ Oh ! ” returns the doorkeeper, “ i f that’s the case,

he must on no account go in , for my orders extendonly to gentlemen , and the whole room is fi l led withapothecaries already .

”

I t would have been well for Robert Perreau hadhe held no more exalted opinion . of his station in l ifethan the Bow S treet Officer.To the del ight of al l the ban ton , the scent Of scandalrose hOt i nto the ai r. The charming lady who hadpassed as the wife Of Daniel Perreau proved to beh is m istress. Although she had l ived with h im forfive years

,bearing him no less than three ch ildren

,her

real name was Margaret Carol ine Rudd , whose lawfulhusband was sti l l al ive. Being the daughter Of anapothecary in the North of I reland, by his marriagewith the love-ch ild Of a major of dragoons, who wasa member Of the Scottish house of Galloway, her boastthat the blood Of Bruce ran in her veins was strictly

48 SOME DISTINGU ISHED V ICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

true,i n spite of the scoffs and jeers with which i t was

hailed by her enemies. Early in the year 176 2, whenonly seventeen , she had married a d issolute l ieutenantof foot, named Valentine Rudd, the son of a grocer atS t Albans. Soon h is soc iety proved d istasteful , andthe fair Margaret Carol ine eloped with a more congen ial partner. During the next few years she l ivedthe l i fe of a K itty F isher or a Fanny Murray—a giltedged Cyprian—sell ing her favours, l ike Danae, for noless than a Shower of gold . Of al l her patrons

,the

most fai thful and generous by far was a rich J ew moneylender named Salvadore , whose name remains sti l l asa landmark in the purl ieus of the metropol is . GoodLord G ranby is said to have visited her out of mereaffection . Among others, i t was wh ispered that H enryF rederick, a gentleman of easy vi rtue, l ike all Dukesof Cumberland , became one of her i nt imate friends .Poss ibly she may have l istened to couplets from theE ssay on W omen ,

for patriot Wilkes,the member of

Parl iament for the county of Middlesex,i s bel ieved to

have cult ivated her soc iety,going to the extent of

finding her a home at Lambeth . Peers flocked toHollen S treet or Meard

’

s Court to pay her homage .A favouri te dev ice of hers was to impersonate aboard ing-school miss or a lady of qual i ty. Few womenof pleasure have possessed the fertile imagination ofMrs Margaret Carol ine Rudd .

I n May 1 7 70 she met the fool ish Daniel Perreau-not stupid from the woman’s poin t of view

,s ince

he was a dash ing dog with a taste for al l the pleasantth ings in l ife—and in an unlucky moment she acceptedhim as her protector. H owever, i n other respects,although he had travelled far over the world

,his

intel lect was no mate for hers . I n business he hadbeen a failure both at home and abroad . Three t imes

,

i t i s recorded , he was obliged to make composition with


his cred itors. Only a fortnight before his al l iancewith the bewitching I r ishwoman his certificate of

bankruptcy had been signed . S t i ll, he was a mansuited to the fair Margaret

’

s taste,handsome

,gay

,and

genteel,with a complacency that paid no regard to her

methods of rais ing money—a partner, i n Short, whogave her back the status i n society that she hadforfei ted .

Natural ly, Daniel was more than satisfied with h isbeautiful compan ion

,al lowing her to pass as his lawful

wife, forming an establ ishment for her in Pal l Mal lCourt—the cost of which , Since Salvadore and otherswere as lavish as ever

,She appears to have provided .

Golden dreams had captured his Si l ly brain , and hebelieved that Exchange Alley would bring a morepropi tious fortune than vulgar trade. Funds could beObtained from his dear Mrs Rudd . Secret news fromthe French Embassy was furn ished by his confederate

,

one Colonel K inder— an I rish soldier. I t would beeasy to cut a bri l l iant figure at J onathan’s, and restorehis shattered credit. Thus, relying upon certain in

formation,he insured the chances of war wi th Spain

but the Falkland I sland convention happened to bringpeace, and Daniel Perreau suffered his first big loss inthe Alley.

S til l,th is did not deter h im , for the finances of Mrs

Rudd seemed inexhaust ible, and sometimes he madea lucky stroke himself. I n addit ion to her pretendedfortune

,which Daniel knew was not bequeathed by any

relat ive,she declared to her friends that a windfall had

come to her in the Shape Of an annuity of £800 ayear from Mr James Adair, the wealthy l inen-factor ofSoho Square. This kinsman of the Pal l Mal l agentchanced to be acquainted with the maternal uncle ofMargaret Carol ine Youngson—a tenant farmer of Bal imoran, County Down , J ohn S tewart by name, another

4


unlawful offspring,possibly

,of the amorous major of

the house OfGal loway—and , after the custom of a manOf the world

,as he is described , he became even more

interested than the royal duke in the fortunes of thepretty n iece . I t i s doubtful whether h is generosi tyreached the sum named

,but with so many sources of

i ncome stric t accuracy in detai l may have been difficultto Mrs Rudd . I ndeed, the despicable Daniel Perreaudid not requi re them . I t was a great thing to boastat J onathan

’

s that h is wife was a connect ion of one Of

the great Adairs . With such a surety funds m ight beborrowed easi ly .

Apparently, being much attached to her protector,Margaret Rudd was quite content to l ive wi th him intheir humble quarters i n Pal l Mal l Court, and topresent h im at appropriate intervals with pledges Oftheir mutual ardour. Probably She Shared his goldenvis ions , hoping for future affluence . At al l events

,she

gained no monetary advantage from the connection .

Moreover, i t was not unti l the beginn ing of the fatal yearthat She was mistress even of a house of her own,

forthe elegant residence on the west Side of Harley S treetwas purchased on the 3 I st ofDecember 1 7 74 .

Brother Robert watched with amazement the progress of the fortunes of his twin, for i t was wonderfulthat bankrupt Daniel Should be able to l ive in decentlodgings with a styl ish lady

, to pursue fash ion in all

i ts vagaries , and to throw about money in the Al ley.

A different man this Robert— solemn,laborious, and

intel l igent,making a hard-earned income of a thousand

pounds a year. Nevertheless,his soul soared above

his gall ipots. I t was h is ambition to make a figurein the world, SO that h is wife could woo society withdrums , routs, hurr icanes . When he looked around hesaw that fortunes were being won on every s ide. Awave of prosperi ty was bearing the empire on its


52 SOME D I STI NGU ISHED V ICTIMS OE THE SCAFFOLD

in the hands of an artful woman . Very cleverly hadhe arranged the saving of h is own skin , th is sly , prec i seapothecary.

For no game could be more hazardous than theone which the guil ty trio continued to pursue. Forgerywas needful to cover forgery. As one bond becamepayable another had to be discounted to provide themoney. A couple of bonds to the value of nearly

£8000 were cashed by banker M i ll s i n the C ity . Ontwo others the large sums of £4000 and £5000 hadbeen advanced by S i r Thomas F rankland . In thi sway more than a dozen were negotiated during thetwelve months that preceded the discovery. Allwere signed with the name of the army agent—thepretended benefactor of Daniel ’s wife—and thei r totalvalue reached the huge sum of Thus thePerreaus had been able to continue their speculationsi n Exchange Alley. Their sole chance of coming outof the misch ief scot free was a lucky Stroke at J onathan

’s,or the death ofone of thei r v ict ims .Publ ic interest in the case was aroused no less by the

personal ity Of the prisoners than by the mystery surround ing the actual criminal . For the brothers on one

S ide, and Mrs Rudd on the other, told two wonderful andcontradictory stories . This most artful ofwomen , whinedthe Messrs Perreau , using consummate guile, had revealedto them gradually a dazzl ing and enticing prospect.F i rst Mr James and then Mr Will iam Adair was re

presented as the lavish benefactor of their beautifulrelative. Yet such was the modesty of these capital ists ,that al though they declared their intention of procuri nga baronetcy for Daniel

,and an estate in the country

for Robert, besides setting up the twins as West-Endbankers , they would communicate with Mrs Rudd alone !Moreover, such was the impecuniosi ty Of these wealthymen that they were able to carry out their benevolent


i ntentions only by the aid of notes of hand ! However,

the brothers protested that these assurances had beengiven to them by the lady, and that all the forged bondshad been received from the fair Margaret Carol ine byinnocent Daniel or ingenuous Robert

,i n the bel ief that

the Messrs Adair, who had signed them,i ntended a

gratuitous present. A most happy stroke of luck,

coincid ing fortunately with the period of thei r boldspeculat ions at J onathan’s ! Yet what was Mrs Rudd’smotive i n running these risks to provide funds fromwhich she received l ittle benefit, was not made clear.Even more wondrous was the other story. Although

her conduct at the house in PallMall—whether we deemher gui l ty or innocent—Showed Someth ing of nobil ity,she had no mercy for her confederates after they hadplayed her false. Whi le confessing once more that shehad forged the bond which the D rummonds had re

jected, she declared that her keeper Dan iel had forcedher to do so by standing over her with an open knife,threaten ing to cut her throat unless She obeyed . Anincredible story, but no more improbable than the other !With the exception of th is compulsory forgery, MrsRudd avowed that she was innocent . Amidst al l th ispubl ic i ty i t is l ikely that poor Mr J ames Adair, whohad been very much the lady’s friend in former days,would have an unpleasant time with Mrs J ames Adair,and with his son, young Mr Serj eant J ames , M. P. , ther ising barrister !

Such an entertainment was a novel and del ightfulexperience for the British publ ic. S i nce the wonderfult ime (fourteen summers ago) when mad Earl Ferrershad made his exi t at Tyburn in a gorgeous weddingdress

,and amidst funereal pomp , the triple tree seldom

had been graced by the appearance of gentlefolk.

Broker Rice whose shady tricks at the Alley madehim the v ictim of Jack Ketch three years after h is


lordsh ip,was almost the only respectable criminal

who had been hanged for more than a decade . I ndeed,

except Mother Brownrigg and J ack Of the S ixteenS trings

,no criminal of note had dangled from a

London scaffold since the days of Theodore Gardelle.Yet a glorious era was dawning for the metropol i tanmob, when , i n qu ick succession , Dodd, Hackman , andRyland were to journey down the Oxford Road—thegolden age of the gal lows , when George I I I . was king !On Fr iday

,the I st of J une, Robert Perreau was put to

the bar at the O ld Bai ley . Owing to i l l-health he hadbeen allowed to remain in the Clerkenwell prison

, and

was not taken to Newgate unt i l the morn ing Of his trial—a priv ilege shared also by his brother . The Presidentof the Court was S i r Richard Aston , who, as a jun iorof the Oxford circui t, had helped to defend the un

fortunate M iss B landy. By his side sat the RightH onourable J ohn Wilkes , Lord Mayor of London

,a

quite tame City patriot now almost ready for the royalembraces, very different from the Wilkes winged bypistol-practis ing Martin , M.P and hounded by renegadeJ emmy Twitcher. This same Ci ty patriot—if we maycredit one of Dame Rumour

’s qui te credible storieswhispered into the ear of the j udge the most importantwords spoken during the trial — “My lord, you canconvict these men without the woman’s evidence.I t i s a shocking th ing that S he Should escape unpunished

,

as she must if you cal l her as a wi tness !” Whichadvice—if the lady had been as kind to ‘ squintingJ acky as the world bel ieved—Shows that he was r is ingon stepping stones of Medmenham Abbey to higherthings . At al l events

,instead of summoning Mrs Rudd

into the box , the j udge startled the world by orderingher to be detained in N ewgate.I n spite of the efforts of h is counsel and his friends

,

the Court d id not put the least faith in the wily


apothecary, refusing to bel ieve that he had beenignorant of h is brother’s relationsh ip to his mistress

, or,

if' th is were true,that an innocent man would obtain

cas h for a succession of huge bonds, drawn on the wel lknown house Of Adai r, at the b idding of a womanwithout making inquiries . Even grant ing that he wasso credulous as to remain S ilent when he saw thatsusp ic ion was aroused, i t was clear that no man of

honour would strive to stifle mistrust by tel l ing l ies.Then there were other compromis ing circumstances.I t was apparent that the Perreaus needed money torepay certain bonds that were fall ing due . Robert hadantedated the latest forgery to make i t agre e with one

of his falsehoods to the Messrs D rummond, for in theprevious J anuary he had endeavoured to obtain moneyfrom them by a fictit ious story. Not only did theemployment of a scrivener have no weight in his favou r

,

but pointed to premeditat ion . I n the face of thes efacts his gu i lt seemed clear . Notwithstanding aneloquent defence written for him by H ugh M‘AuleyBoyd, i n which he protested that he had received thebonds from Mrs Rudd in good faith

,the jury required

no more than five m inutes to return a hosti le verdict .At nine o’clock on the fol lowing morn ing there were

S im ilar deal ings with brother Dan iel . Seeing that hiscase was hopeless

,he did not del iver the elaborate

address that had been prepared,choosing to print i t, l ike

Pope’s playwright . Naturally. his expectat ions werefulfi lled

,and he was found guil ty of forging one of the

bonds in the name of Wi ll iam Adair, on which h is friendD r B rooke had lent him £ 1500. On the oth ofJune , atthe close of the O ld Bailey sessions, he was sentencedto death along with Robert by Recorder G lynn

,while

on the same day Mrs Rudd was told that as bai lcould not be granted

,she must remain in prison . I n

spite of thei r d ishonesty, and sti l l baser treachery, i t i s


impossible to th ink of the cruel sentence of the un

fortunate Perreaus without a thri l l of horror . Yet noqualms d isturbed the tranquil conscience of King George

,

who bel ieved he was doing the Lord’s work in hangingmen and women for a pal try theft.The charming M rs Rudd was not disposed of so

easily as her unlucky confederates . From Apri l onwardsshe had attracted more attention than the skirmisheswith our rebell ious colon ists at Bunker

’s H i l l andLexington . While She was at large and the brotherswere under lock and key , publ ic sympathy had remained

on the ir s ide . Moreover, her tact ics were not too reputable

,and unti l i t was evident that she was struggl ing

in her prison with the valour ofdesperation against overwhelming odds

,popular compassion did not condone her

Shifty methods . S t i ll , whatever her guil t, she wagedher long battle with surpassing dexteri ty .

One of the foremost of her foes, and not the leastdangerous

,was George K inder, the I rish colonel

Daniel 's emissary in the unlucky touting at the backstairs of the F rench Embassy—a gentleman who hadsought vainly to w in the good graces of M iss Pol lyWilkes . There was no false del icacy about th is warrior,as the letters i n the Morning Post under pseudonyms‘ J ack Spry ’ and ‘NO Puffer ’ bear ample testimony,and soon he had made the whole world famil iar wi th theamatory history of Margaret Youngson. Yet ColonelK inder was too reckless in the del ivery ofhis attacks, and ,l ike many another dashing soldier, he found himself oftenoutflanked . For Mrs Rudd wielded her pen bri l l iantly,and her repl ies to cr i t ics of the press were not unworthy—both i n style and context—of a novel is t of laterdays . At al l events , the vulgar diatribes of ColonelK inder helped to bring popular sympathy to the s ide ofh is fair antagonist

,and th is is precisely what the clever

lady must have foreseen .


Another enemy,as i nveterate as the I r ishman

himself,appeared in the person of a rough -and

ready sea-dog,ex-Admiral S i r Thomas F rankland

whom the Perreaus had swindled out of thousands of

pounds—a l ineal descendant of Protector Cromwell .More truculent even than his great ancestor—for surelyO l iver never confiscated ruff or farth ingale belongingto H enrietta Maria—he pounced upon Mrs Rudd’sclothes, and indeed upon all property that might helpto repay his loans . Remain ing loyal to his Old friendthe Golden Square apothecary—for the choleric gentleman was convinced that he was an innocent instrumentin the hands of the woman—he seized anything thatDaniel and his

,mistress happened to possess . I n couse

quence of th is brigandage there was a pitched battlebetween the employees of the admiral and the sheriff

’

sofficers for the possession of the house in H arley S treet,i n wh ich the former got the worst of the tussle. Runn ing amuck at al l who took the other side—BarristerBailey, Uncle S tewart

,the Keeper of the Lyon

Records—each in turn received a broadside from thefiery old salt. Sh iver-me-t imbers Frankland—th is PaulPry of a lady’s wardrobe—wrought more good out ofevil to the cause ofMargaret Rudd than any other man ,and his fair enemy was nothing loth to let h im run tothe top of h is bent .Nowhere was the d iplomacy of Daniel Perreau

’

s

mistress more remarkable than in the negotiat ions withher old servant

,Mrs Christian Hart . Early i n July

there was an interview between the pair in N ewgate thehandmaid compassionate and pl iable ; the prisoner ful lof subtle schemes against her enem ies . Barrister Bai leywas present

,and a lengthy document was drawn up

—a

paper of i nstructions i n the form of a narrat ive for thegu idance Of the faithful ‘ Christy ’—wherein was setforth the details of a wicked conspiracy

,which the

58 SOME D I STI NGU ISHED V ICTIMS or THE SCAFFOLD

servant was to pretend that she had overheard , betweenold sea-dog F rankland and Mrs Robert Perreau to

swear away Mrs Rudd’s l i fe. Promising to learn herStory and stick to the text, Mrs Hart went away withher manuscript ; but , frightened by her husband or

bribed by the admiral,i n a l i ttle wh ile she deserted to

the other s ide. I n no wise d ismayed , Margaret Ruddretorted that ‘Christy ’ had volunteered the story,and that the instruct ive document was a faithful Copy ofthe woman’s narrative as dictated by hersel f, anothercopy of which She produced , attested by the faithfulBailey. Moreover, she al leged that the whole businesswas a th ing devised by the Perreaus for the purpose ofcompromising thei r enemy, a most dexterous plot tomake i t appear that M rs Rudd was endeavouring tocreate false evidence ! Thus, even when the fi rst schemefai led , she gained the effect desired by its very failure.Poor, persecuted woman , thought the big-hearted Bri t ishpubl ic

,and what a Shocking old admiral !

A li ttle later,the fair captive i n Newgate triumphed

over another enemy, one H annah Dalboux, a seconddomest ic . This Hannah had been nurse to the youngestofDaniel Perreau’s ch ildren s ince the mother had beenput i n prison . One morning in August the newspapersannounced that the woman had refused to surrender thech ild , and that the woman

’s husband had tried to thrashthe inevi table M r Bailey when he paid a visi t with h iscl ient’s request . “ The baby Shal l be given up when Iam paid for its board and lodging

,was the sum and

substance of H annah ’s ul t imatum . All the same thech ild had to be del ivered to its rightful owner, andhusband Dalboux was locked up for the assaul t. Agreat Opportun i ty, i ndeed , which Mrs Rudd did not

neglect . All the journals were ful l of h ints concern ingthe horrid old admiral , who had employed people tosteal the lady’s baby as wel l as her petticoats—about the



Croydon . Soon also the ubiquitous E l i zabeth Chudleighmonopol ised publ ic attention , to the exclusion of everyone else

,under her new rOle as H er G race ofKingston

while the sex of the mysterious Cheval ier D’

Eon con

tinued to be the subject ofmany wagers .For six months M rs Rudd remained a prisoner in

Newgate—from the day of Robert Perreau’

s condem

nation On the I s t of J une unti l the morning of her owntrial on the 8th ofDecember—us ing every endeavour sothat she Should not be brought to the judgment-seat. Afew weeks after the close ofthe summer sessions—on thefourth day of J uly—she was summoned to WestminsterHal l to l i sten to the rul ing ofChief-J ustice Mansfield, anunrivalled exponent of amaz ing dec isions

,with regard to

her status as king’s evidence. Superfine, i ndeed , wasthe qual i ty of Mansfield

’

s red tape The woman didnot confess that She was an accompl ice, but an ass istantby compulsion

,therefore she may be presumed to be

innocent, consequently there is no reason why She shouldnot be tried ! Only a guilty person can be admitted as

a witness for the Crown ! ” Yet the great Chief-J usticehad a more cogent reason sti l l—one that i s i rrefu table“ S ince the lady did not disclose all she knew, she hasforfeited indulgence !” Quite proper , no doubt , i n alegal sense, but foreign to the eternal eth ics of Britishequi ty, that has permi tted ‘ burker ’ Hare to escape thehalter, bel iev ing that i t i s monstrous to ask a jury to trya prisoner from whom a confession has been extortedunder prom ise of pardon . There was no false del icacyabout the learned Mansfield

’

s i nterpretation of the law.

H owever,his lordsh ip was the autocrat of al l bigwigs,

and none but the most stout-hearted ventured to challengehis decisions . When the case was argued by her counselbefore three judges

,s i tt ing as a Court of Gaol Del ivery

in the middle of September, one H enry Gould , whofeared a Chief-J ustice as l i ttl e as a Gordon riot , appears

6 !

S o he

K ing’

s Bench.

THE UNFORTUNATE BROTHERS 6 1

to have real ised that the law must keep i ts faith . So hegave a flat contrad ict ion to the rul ing ofthe King’s Bench.

How can we know that the woman’

was cognisant ofany other forgery than the one to which She has confessedunless we bring her to trial ?” demanded this j udgeGould .

“ And if we bring her to trial we break our word !”

N evertheless his two col leagues , remembering possiblythe Mansfield temper and the Mansfield tongue

,main

tained the arguments of the Chief-J ustice, and thus i t wasdecreed that Mrs Rudd must go before a jury. Early inNovember twelve judges assented to this dec is ion .

Confident that her long struggle had not been futile,

S ince this breach of fai th must Shock the publ ic mind , thebeautiful prisoner prepared to face her terrible ordeal .I n a letter from S trawberry H i l l we catch a gl impse of

her on the eve ofher trial . She sent her lawyera brief of which he could not make head nor tai l . H ewent to her for one more clear. ‘And do you imagine

,

’

sa id She , that I will trust you or any attorney in Englandwith the truth ofmy story ? Take your brief : meet mein the O ld Bai ley, and I wi l l ask you the necessary quest ions .

’ And when the time came she kept herpromise to help him through .

On Fr iday , the 8th of December, She was placed inthe dock at the O ld Bai ley. During her long imprisonment the popular sympathy had come over to her s ide

,

and a friendly crowd fi lled the galleries before daybreak . With much tenderness Judge Aston explainedto her the reason that she was put to the bar

,his ch ief

argument being the elusive one that she had not spokenthe wnole truth before the magistrates. No womancould have been more dignified or composed. An air ofmelancholy rested on her beautiful face

,which appeared

more pale in contrast to her garb of mourning. A silkpolonese cloak, l ined with white persian, was thrownround her shoulders . Beneath, her gown was black satin ,


app/mule with wreaths of broad s i lken ribbons, her ski rtdraped upon the small hoop worn with an evening toilet .Above the tall head-dress demanded by fash ion , a whi tegauze cap

,dotted with small knots of black, rested

l ightly upon her powdered curls . I t was almost the samecostume that she had worn before the three j udges.Only for a short t ime were the spectators in doubt as

to the resul t of the trial . None of the ev idence wasconvincing ; each witness seemed more feeble than hispredecessor. Serjeant Davy, rough and ready, tore theirstatements to tatters . To the jury M rs Robert Perreauseemed eager to swear aught that might save the l ife of

her unhappy husband . Admiral Frankland,i n the face of

his petticoat theft, appeared to have pressed the prosecution out of greed and for the sake of revenge. J ohnMoody

,a footman discharged by the prisoner, must have

been regarded,very properly, as a barefaced liar. The

famous Christian Hart, another old servant wi th a grudge ,who was answered on al l points by the evidence of theindefatigable Bai ley, could prove nothing concern ing theforgery cited in the indictment.All the while Mrs Rudd kept on passing notes to her

counsel—more than fifty in number—suggest ing questionsto baffle the hosti le witnesses . The trial lasted for nearlytwelve hours . When the jury returned into court

,after

an absence of th irty minutes , H enry Angelo , the fenc ingmaster, saw the gay auctioneer who was the foremanthrow a meaning smile towards the beautiful prisoner.“ Not gui l ty according to the evidence before us !”

declared the jury, while the court thundered withapplause . At last her bi tter ordeal was over

,and

Margaret Rudd,smil ing through her tears

,stepped gai ly

into a coach that was wait ing at the door of O ld Bailey.

Then she was driven , post haste, to her new home withthe wicked Lord Lyttelton . Certainly th is charmingand clever woman was far from being too good to l ive .


64 SOME DI STI NGU I SHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

thei r steps were ringing across the flags of the courtyard,

as with bound arms they fol lowed the Sheri ffs towardsthe gate . Those who gazed upon these poor victims ofa merci less law testi fy that thei r tread was fi rm andthei r faces hopeful and serene. For, save in that firstbase betrayal of a woman , no one can accuse Danieland Robert Perreau of cowardice . F ive others borethem company to the grave .

Shortly after nine o’clock the Ci ty Marshals,attended

by the ful l panoply ofsheriffdom , started the process ion .

N ext came an open cart, covered wi th black baize,where sat three of the convicts, and then a hurdle,dragged by four horses , on which rested a pai r of

wretches condemned for coin ing. And last,there

fol lowed the sombre mourn ing-coach— a Special privi lege—with the unhappy brothers . All around lay a windingsheet of snow, crusted th ick on the housetops , pi led indeep bil lows against the wal ls. A piercing east wi ndshot down the O ld Bai ley, while the prison gleamed inthe frosty mist l ike a monument of hard black ice .

Beyond Newgate S treet the bel l in S t Sepulchre’shigh steeple rang fiercely over the frozen roofs

,as

though peal ing forth a paean of exultation upon theprocession of death . H ere there came a halt i n themarch , while from the steps of the church

,i n time

honoured fashion , the sexton del ivered his solemnexhortat ion to the condemned prisonersAll good people, pray heart i ly unto God for these

poor s inners , who are now going to their death,for

whom this great bell doth toll .

Lo rd have mercyupon you,Chris t have mercyupon you.

Backwards and forwards around the mourning-coachsurged the mob, clamouring with ribald fury for agl impse Of the celebrated forgers . Robert Perreau

,


s i tt ing with his back to the horses bes ide one of thesheriff’s officers, pul led down the glass meekly, andgazed out wi th calm, unruffled features. Then the longjourney was resumed . Over the heavy road the wheelsand hoofs Sl ipped and crunched down the slopes ofSnow H i l l, and toiled up the steep ascent into Holbourn.

S tand ing erect in the cart, George Lee , a handsomeboy highwayman , gorgeous i n a crimson coat and ruffledsh irt, doffed h is gold-laced hat with a parade ofgal lantryto a young woman in a hackney coach . Then , whilea hundred eyes and a hundred loathsome jests wereturned upon her

,the poor girl burst i nto a flood of

tears. I n another moment her lover had passed awayfor ever. Huddled in the same tumbri l wi th theswaggering youth, a couple of J ews

,condemned for

housebreaking, shook and chattered with dread , thei ryel low faces l ivid as death , a strange contrast to theirflorid

,bombastic companion . Shivering with cold, the

two tortured coiners were jolted over the snow, boundfast to thei r hurdle, their l imbs turned to ice by thefrost. Within the black coach, the brothers l istenedcalmly and reverently to the prayers with wh ich OrdinaryV i l lette

,who sat by the Side of Dan iel , suppl icated the

Almighty to pardon these vict ims unworthy of humanmercy. And al l the while, the mob— forty thousandstrong—shrieked

,danced and hurled snowballs, mad

dened l ike fierce animals by the scent of blood .

I t was only half-past ten o’clock when the cortegereached the triple tree. Two separate gal lows hadbeen prepared

,for i t was not meet that H ebrew and

Christ ian Should hang from the same branch . S O thetumbri l was drawn under the smaller crossbar, and, theirhal ters being fixed

,the two J ews were left to their

rabbi ; while highwayman Lee, and the coiners Bakerand Ratcl iffe

,were placed in a second cart. Seated in

thei r coach a l i ttle d istance away,the two brothers

66 SOME D ISTI NGU ISHED VICTIMS or THE SCAFFOLD

watched these ghastly preparat ions wi th unruffled mien.

When al l was ready Sheriff Newnham gave them as ignal

,and they descended to the ground . A moment

later they were Stand ing beside the ir three wretchedcompatriots . Then the Rev . V i l lette came forward toplay his usual part . Hold ing the same prayer-book,

Daniel and Robert Perreau followed the serv ices withp ious attention

,thei r reverence forming a marked con

trast to the swagger of the boy highwayman . Forsome time they were al lowed to converse with theOrdinary

,and each gave him a paper containing a last

solemn declaration of their innocence . I t was noticedthat Daniel raised his eyes to the sky, and boldlyasserted that he was guil tless .At half-past eleven al l was ready for the final scene .

Ordinary V i l lette offered a last shake of the hand ;Sheriffs Haley and Newnham bowed in solemn farewell . H aving been fee

’

d by his d ist inguished cl ien ts,

J ack Ketch gave a moment’s grace whi le the brothersembraced tenderly. Fai thful unto death

,the brave

fel lows exhibited more nobil i ty in thei r last few hoursthan during the whole of thei r l ives . As the cart drewaway and their foothold sl ipped beneath them

,the ir

hands were sti l l clasped together . For a ful l halfminute thei r fingers remained l inked as they dangledi n the air, and then fel l apart as they passed intoobl iv ion beside their five dying companions . Fourdays later, on Sunday , the amt of J anuary, they wereburied together in a vault within S t Mart in’s Church

,

Ludgate H i l l.No mob could have behaved with more indecency

than the howling, laugh ing throng that gazed upon th isscene of death , i ncreas ing by thei r wanton rioting theagony of the poor sufferers a thousandfold . With greatdiffi culty an army of constables— three hundred innumber—kept a clear space around the scaffold . After


the spectacle was over i t was found that there had beennumerous accidents. A woman was beaten down andpressed to death ; a youth was ki l led by a fal l from acoach . One of the stands near the gal lows col lapsedduring the execution , and three or four persons losttheir l ives .I n the history of crime the case of the unfortunate

brothers forms an important landmark . Althoughmany a forger had gone to the gal lows before

,they

were the first ‘ d istinguished victims ’ of the merci lesscode . Thus thei r fate served as a precedent. “ I f D rDodd is pardoned , then the Perreaus have beenmurdered quoth the crazy king

,when he was asked to

forgive ‘ the macaron i parson .

’ H enceforth,i t was as

safe to blow out a man’s brains as to counterfei t his handwrit ing. At last, when the first humane monarch for morethan a hundred years set his face against such butcherythe lawgivers were unable to preserve the bloodystatutes that had slaughtered thousands during the halfcentury which separated the deaths of Robert Perreauand H enry Fauntleroy . By the Side of Mackintosh,Romil ly, and Ewart, the fourth George is enti tled to anhonourable place.Publ ic opin ion changed once more with wonted incon

s istency after the acquittal ofMrs Rudd, and the apothecary in particular, as the bankers

’ peti t ion indicates ,received the widest sympathy . S t il l, i t seems strangethat h is guilt could have been doubted by reasonablepersons. No other defence was open to h im save theone he used

,old as human sin—it was the woman !

and even th is apology involved the most absurdpretences . Clearly, the fable had been prearrangedbetween the conspirators . Treachery brought i ts ownreward

,and Robert Perreau

,forgetting that there Should

be honour among thieves, was ruined because he d id nott rust h is fair accompl ice to the ful l extent . No doubt

68 SOME DISTI NGU ISHED VICTIMS 01" THE SCAFFOLD

she would have soothed sea-dog Frankland just as shepac ified the bankers D rummond .

I n all the sordid history the one brigh t spot i s theloyal ty of charming

,wicked Mrs Rudd to her grimy

confederates,for the scene i n oldWill iam Adair’s parlour

on that stormy March morning might wel l have cost herl i fe . H ad the bankers proved to be curmudgeons , thePerreaus would not have raised a hand to save her fromthe shambles . S i nce she must have known the menwho were her associates, she must have real ised alsoher own ri sk. Yet sti l l She kept her faith , while perceivi ng that safety lay in betrayal . Truly a noble act ofheroism

,though based upon a mud-heap . Thus when

we bear in mind how the two brothers repaid her t rust,and reflect upon the breach of law-honour sanctioned byJ ames Mansfield , there comes the obvious suspicion that,whatever her in iquity, the woman was more than repaidin her own coin .

Little is remembered of her subsequent histo ry. A

few days after her trial i t i s recorded that she visi ted theplay in Lord Lyttelton

’

s chariot . During the followingSpring she was honoured by the pol i te attentions of

James Boswel l . On the I 5th of May of th is year, greatJ ohnson himself declared that he would have vis ited herat the same time as h is fi dns A c/zates were it not thatthey had a trick ofputting everyth ing in the newspapers !Possibly other references occur in Bon Ton Magaz ines,

’

or s imilar c/zronignes scandaleuses, now treasured in treecalf or crushed morocco, and vended at so many guineasper ounce . There is a hint somewhere that her charmshad begun to wane

,although she was only th irty at the

t ime Of her trial , for a l ife and experiences such as herstrace l ines upon the face and dim the lustre of the eye .

S ti l l , whatever the cause , we may conj ecture that herfriendship with Lord Lyttel ton did not last much longerthan a couple of years , as , while he succumbed to the


famous bad dreams on the a7 th of November, She

d ied before J une 1 7 79 in very distressed circumstances .Poss ibly she was supplanted by the famous Mrs Dawson .

I n the testimony of her contemporaries there isunanimity with regard to the beauty and wit of MargaretRudd— the sole grudge, even of the women , being thatshe was clever enough to cheat the gal lows . To pretendsympathy with those who were saddened because She

received no pun ishment is superlative cant, for thepenalty would have been out of al l proportion to theOffence. Thus the cheers that rang through the O ldBailey on that December evening long ago find an echoi n our hearts to-day. Moreover, s ince i t was needfulto offer up a propi t iatory sacrifice to Mammon, i t was ashrewd common-sense that selected the brothers as themore deserving of the awful atonement .I n the scarlet pages of the chronicles Of crime there i s

not another dazzl ing figure such as the mistress ofpoorDaniel Perreau. Yet she walks across the dim stage inthe gu ise of no tragedy queen as M iss B landy. I f atal l

,she compels our tears am idst our smiles, and such

tears are the most gentle and Spontaneous . Light,sparkl ing

,joyous

,she chases pleasure with reckless

laughter,meeting the fate ofal l who pursue the gl i ttering

W isp , heedless of the deepen ing mire through which theytread . I t i s wrong to watch her dainty person withdel ight

,but we cannot avert our eyes . Alas, transit

gloria mund’i l One of the most excel lent of modern

critics Speaks truly of th is immortal lady as a forgottenhero ine of the N ewgate Calendar, and she—the idolof princes and lord mayors—has not rece ived a nicheamong the national b iographies !

B I B L IOGRAPHY OF TH E PERREAU CAS E

I . CONTEMPORARY TRACTS

1 . Tbe Female Forgery,Or Fatal Effects of Unlawful Love. J. Bew, No. 28

Paternoster Row. Price “ W ith a beautifu l whole-length portrai t of Mrs

Rudd reso lv ing whether to sign the Bond or forfeit her l ife. From the capitaldrawing ofan eminent master .” (Publ ished April 22,

2 . Forgery Unmasked, or Genuine Memoi rs of the Two Unfortunate B rothers,Rob . and Danie l Perreau , and Mrs Rudd . A . Grant , Bridges Street , CoventGarden . Price “ I l lustrated with a New and Beautiful Engrav ing ofMr Dan.

Perreau in the act of threaten ing to Murder Mrs. Rudd , unless she would sign the

Fatal Bond .

”(April 25, 17 75. A pro

-Rudd Tract , containing the case of Mrs

Rudd,as related by herself, which appeared original ly as a series of letters in the

Morning Post from March 27 to April

3. Genuine ll/emoirs ofAlessieurs P erreau ; (Now under Confinement. ) W ithmany Curious Anecdotes relative to Mrs Rudd ; G. Al len, No . 59 Paternoster Row.

Price Brit. Mus. (April 26 ,4 . Tbe Ge nuine {Memoirs of tbe Alessers Perreau . G. Kears ley

, 46 Fleet S treet .Price (Published May 1 1 , 1775. Second ed ition June 8 ,5. Tbe Trials of Robert and Dan iel Perreau T. Bel l , at (No . 26) the Top of

Bel l-Yard , near Temple Bar. Taken down In shorthand by Joseph Gurney.(June 6,6 . Air. Daniel Perreau

’

s Narrative of H is Unlzappy Case. T. Evans, No. 50 inthe S trand , nea r York Buildings. Price Brit. Mus . (June 9 ,7 . A Letter to the Rig/rt Hon . E arl of S afe /b . In which the Innocence of

Robe rt Perreau is demonstrated . T. Hookham,at his Circulating Library

, theCorner ofHanov er Stree t , Hanover Square. Price Bu t. Mus. (July 13,8. Facts , or a Plain and Explicit Narrat ive of the Case ofMrs . Rudd . T. Be l l,

26 Bel l-Yard , Temple Bar. Price Brit . Mus . (July 17 75. This tract containsthe Case ofMrs . Rudd as related by herself,” wi th the addition ofher Narrative,”which appeared original ly in the Alorn zng Post. July 1, 3, 4, 7 , 10, and

9 . Observ ations on tlze TrialofAir. Robert Perreau . W ith Mr. Perreau’

s Defenceas S poken on His Trial . S . Bladon, No. 16 Paternoster Row. Price Brit.Mus (July I 7 , 17 75 )

10 . Tbe Tr ue Genuine Lives and Trials , etc. of tire Two Unfortunate B roth rs.

I llus trated with Two New and Beaut ifu l Engravings, I st . Danie l Perreau th reateningto Murder Mrs Rudd . 2nd. The two Perreaus lamenting their unhappy fate.

J . Mil ler,W hite Lion S treet

, Goodman’s Fields. Brit . Mus.

1 1. An Accoun t of ( be Arg ume nts of Co unsel. On Sat , Sept. 16.

17 75, whether Mrs . Rudd ought to be t ried , etc. By Joseph Gurney. Sold byMarth a Gurney, No. 34 Bel l-Yard, Temple Bar. 17 75. price Brit . Mus.

12 . Tbe Case of Airs. {Margaret Caro/me Rudd, from her fi rst Commitment toNewgate on Thursday , the I st of June

,last to her final acquittal at the O ld Bai ley,Friday, December 8 , 1775. J . Bew

,No . 28 Paternoster Row . (December 15,


7 2 SOME D I STI NGU ISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

I I. CONTEMPORARY NEW S PAPERS AND MAGAZ INES

1. The Public Advertiser, March 15-Decembe r l7 75. January 1776.

2. The Daily Advertiser, do . 15 do. do.

3 . The lilorn ing Chronicle, do. 13 do. do.

4. The London Chronicle, do. 16 do. do .

5. The lilorning Post, do. 16 do. do.

do. 15 do. do.

7 . Lloyd’s E vening Post, do. 17 do. do.

8 . The E vening Post, do . 17 do. do.

9 . The Craftsman ,June 1775.

The lilorning Post ofThursday , January 18, 17 76, contains a

of the execution of the There are full desc riptions in

17 75

The Perreau Frauds,” pp . 148—150, 205.

Trials ofthe Perreaus ,” pp. 278—284, 300.

The Case ofMrs. Rudd ," pp . 347 , 349, 452 , 603—5.

Poems on Mrs . Rudd ,” pp . 443 , 492.

1 776.

Pet itions on behalf ofthe Perreaus , 22, 23, 44 .

Execution ofthe Perreaus,”

44, 45, 46.

Pamphlets on the Case,

”176, 278.

17 79

Reported death ofMrs Rudd,

” p. 327 .

1800.

Reported death ofMrs Rudd ,” pp. 188, 483.

1809 .

Death ofValentine Rudd , p . 581 .

1834

Reference to the Perreau Case,v ide obituary notice of

part ii. p. 318.

The repo rt of the celebrated Mrs Rudd’s death in vol. lxx.

as reference to th

a Mrs W i l liam Ru There is evidence thatshe died in 17 79 .

1 1 . The London llIagaz ine. Publ ished by R . Baldwin at the Rose,Paternoster

Row.

pp 300-307 . 356-7 . 376 . 429. 488. 602. 657pp 53

-54. l6x. 327

12 . The Town and Country lilagaz ine. Published byA. Hamil ton Junior nearS t. John’s Gate.

pp . 300. 482. 629p . 39 .

13. The IVestminster Alagaz ine. Published by Richardson and Urq uhart at theRoyal Exchange , and T. W righ t , Essex S t. , St rand .

pp . H 9 . 297 . 304. 475. 655.

pp 4 1—43.

B IBLIOGRAPHY OF THE PERREAU CASE 7 3

14, The Conv iv ial Magazine. Publ ished by T. Bel l . Be l l-Yard near Temple

pp . 33. 98pp 17 1. 223. 247 . 291.

15. The AnnualRegister, xv iii. 229.

THE SONG “ ROB IN ADA IR

Third Series, v . 404, 442, 500 ; vi. 35, 96 , 176, 254.

Fourth Series,v i ii . 548 ; ix. 99, 130, 197 .Fifth Series, v . 20.

E igh th Series , v ii. 267 ; x. 196, 242, 426 ; xi. 32.

Although both words and music mayhave been plagiarised from old I rishbal lad and old I rish melody, i t is probable that the story of Surgeon RobertAdair and Lady Carol ine Keppel suggested the later version of John Braham,

December 17 , 181 1 .

NOTE .-W e are indebted to S ir Thomas Frankland for one of the most charming

mezzotints by W m. W ard , after Hoppner—a picture ofhis two daughters.

THE K ING’

S ENGRAVER

THE CASE OF WILLIAM WYNNE RYLAND,1 7 83

ABOUT the t ime that M iss B landy was commencing heri l l-fated amour with Captain Cranstoun, a dark-eyed boywith earnest

,clear-cut features , Often carry ing a po rtfol io

Of drawings under his arm,might have been met by any

one who strolled along F leet S treet or the S trand in theearly morn ing between Charing Cross and the O ld Bailey.

From his home beneath the grim shadow of Newgateprison , where h is father, Edward Ryland , prints andengraves in a house next door to that in which th ief-takerWild levied blackmail

,the young artist t rudges each day

to the S t Martin’s Lane Academy. And should one

meet him in the autumn of 1 749 , he wi l l be wearing asui t of solemn black ; and h is grave, eager face wi llseem more sombre than wont, for his patron and godfather, the good and kind S i r Watkin Will iams-W ynne,has been kil led by a fal l from his horse

,to the unspeakable

grief ofevery son ofgal lant l i t tle Wales .Around the school of drawing where young Ryland islearning his craft

,a new world is springing into l ife—a

world of fancy,grace, and colour, destined to free Old

London from the sable sway of dulness . I t i s the worldof art, over which the deep black deluge has rested forso long, soon to be peopled with the bright creationsof gen ius. Will iam Wynne Ryland wil l see some of

74



76 SOME ntsrmoursnnn vrcrms or THE SCAFFOLD

m inute ! And as the youth gazes upon the noble work,

his qu ick Welsh blood , warmed by the infection ofgenius,glows with l ike ambition to do and dare. Soon

,also, he

becomes a pupil of the sculptor in S t Peter’s Cou rt , fromwhom , whatever else he learns , he must acquire a boundless sel f-confidence .

Shortly after the death ofhis godfather,young Wynne

Ryland , now about seventeen years old,i s bound appren

tice to engraver Rav enet, who came over from F ranceto help H ogarth with h is plates

,and who has set up a

school south of the river in Lambeth Marsh . As thecrows fl ies, i t is a Short j ourney from the O ld Bai ley, butone must turn up Ludgate H i l l

,wind round B lack

Friars through Water Lane,hold ing one’s nose i f the

wind comes north-west down the grimy F leet,and

from the steps take wherry to the Surrey s ide. Acrossthe Thames

,the wide, deep ditches, bordered by the ir

fringes of willows, have changed the moss into a fert i leplain .

O ld Ryland is careful to concil iate the F rench artistnow and then by a judicious commission

,which takes

the form of woolly book-plates after Sam Wale—c lassicpictures according to Queen Anne tradit ions

,fi l led with

urns and hose-pipe torches, wooden scrolls of parchment,and busts on pi l lar-boxes, gentlemen in cotton dress inggowns, with stony beards, and demure ladies in flowingnightshi rts . We meet these curious plates in a rarecopy of the Book of Common Prayer

,with the Sign Of

Edward Ryland of the O ld Bailey,and similar ones i n

S ir J ohn Hawkins’ i nterpretation of O ld I saac . YoungWynne takes h is part in the work

,and though Master

Francois gives him the lead , aided by fellow-countrymenCanot and S cotin , whi le the senior prentices, Grignionand Walker, also ply their gravers, a glance at ‘ Lukethe Physician ,

’

or‘ S t Matthew at the Receipt of

Custom’

will Show that the youthful Welshman already

THE K I NG’S ENGRAVER 7 7

is the equal of the best of them . Thus for five yearshe works under Rav enet.I t must have been a happy home in that dingy, sunless

house in the O ld Bailey, where Wynne Ryland’s early

days were spent. The father, busy and prosperous,devoted to h is wife

,eager to encourage the talents Of his

boys,and Observing proudly, with expert eye, the amaz

ing genius of his th ird son. Yet over al l there broodsthe sad shadow of the grim prison . Often in the nightthe s i lence is broken by the hoarse voice of the bel lmanchanting th is refrain

You prisoners that are within,W ho for wickedness and sin,

After manyMerc ies shown you, are now appointed to Dye to Morrowin the Forenoon : Give Eat and understand that to morrow the GreatestBel l of S t S epulchre

’s shal l toll for you, in Form and Manner of a

Passing Bell, as used to be tolled for those that are at the Point of

I t is the loathly knel l Of the unhappy wretches with inthe deep black walls . And in the morning the awfulboom of S t Sepulchre rol ls over the housetops

,whi le a

ribald, drunken mob chokes the street. Then comesthe clank and clatter of sheriff’s Officers, and, as theprocession moves from the i ron portals of N ewgate

,

there fol lows an open cart, driven by a gruesome creatureastride a coffin, and in which , bound and quaking, l iethe poor passengers to Tyburn . Such scenes are aportion of the boyhood Of William Wynne Ryland

,the

great engraver.But

,after the long years of his apprent icesh ip have

rolled away, a brighter and more gl i ttering l ife thandingy old London , or even the whole world, can Show,

comes to the young gen ius . S ince h is youth Paris hasbeen whisper ing to h im her enticing summons—Paris

,

the Cyprus of art, where beauty, love, and colour walkhand in hand, and where he whose fingers can fash ion

7 8 SOME DISTI NGU ISHED V ICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

thei r charms may become mightiest of the mighty.

Two friends and Old school-fellows are eager to makethe same pi lgrimage, and the indulgent parent, whoseforesight perceives wh ither the talents of hi s gifted son

will l ead him,gives h is consent . Although he knows

that i f the lowering storm-clouds shall burst,a v isi t

to France may mean exi le unti l the close of the war,

he resolves that the young man shal l pursue h is arti n the studios of the great F rench masters . S O,

earlyone morning the three enthusiasts mount Chri stopherShaw’s stage-coach at the S ign Of the ‘Golden Cross

,

’

and resting at Canterbury over n ight,reach Dover in

good time the next day . With a fair wind,a stout

smack will touch the oppos ite coast in a few hours,

where they must tolerate a much less speedy team anda more shaky vehicle along the road to Paris .I t is the eve before the deluge , and a sunset , having

no part i n the morrow, most bril l iant and gorgeousof aspect . To the eye of the poet or painter there isno blemish in the fai r landscape . H is vis ion rests -onlyupon graceful palace or shin ing gardens. Around thefountains

,over the lawns, gl ide the creatures of Arcadia

—beautiful gentlemen in dazzl ing frocks and scentedruffles, toying with bej ewelled sword or fl icking the l idof a golden snuff-box, moving thei r satin l imbs in obeisauce to their fair partners . Sweet ladies with snowyringlets fal l ing upon bare shoulders

,the bloom of roses

in their cheeks, and the sheen of pearls on their roundbreasts

,fluttering l ike butterfl ies amidst the flower-beds,

clad in sh immering draperies, flashing in a blaze ofcolour. O r

,i n the twinkl ing of an eye, the p icture

may dissolve,to become more entrancing. My lord

now trips the mead a dainty S trephon , tuning his pipes ,and shaking the ribbands at his knees , while his h ighborn Phyl l i s

,st il l wearing her powdered hair and dis

dainful patches,twirls her si lken ankles in the graceful



throng of lords and ladies, flash ing with bri l l ian ts ,shining in si lk attire, are her votari es , who bow inidolatry beneath the spel l . More than human are theseworshippers

,for they have tasted the honey-dew upon

her l ips,and have drunk the milk of Paradise. Yet

only half their l ife -story has been told by FrancoisBoucher. A S semi -div in it ies he has l imned them ,

sporting as ch ildren around their Venus mother,grovel l ing as satyrs before the throne of their queen .

We must turn to other pictures to view thei r dest iny.

Their fate is that of all mortals who seek to share thepleasures of the gods . Duped by the alluring smile ofthe deity

,they spread their t iny wings to invade her

home,and the outraged d iv in i ty turns upon them in

her wrath and smites them with death .

Not one of those who immortal ise the romance ofthat fairy age can read the writi ng on the wall. Boucher

,

Fragonard,and their gay school , who are as bl ind to

the future as the dead painter of Valenciennes,depict

only what they see . The squal id l i ttle leech ofBoudryis sti l l in his country home, or wandering, an enthusias tic

boy, i n greedy pursuit of science to the sunny south ;the sea-green avocat of Arras has not yet looked uponthe l ight ; the l ion-hearted tamer of the G ironde also i sunborn . Even the surly, pock-fretten features of giantM irabeau have never passed through the streets of

Paris. A long, brill iant n ight is sti l l before the giddycapital .None of the om inous hungry growls from squal id

purl ieus can arrest the ears of young Wynne Ryland,

who has come to Paris to shake off the memory of sadO ld Bailey, who sees naught but the colour and romance.Thus he breathes into his soul

,with strong

,eager lungs

,

the perfume-scented air. With the enthusiasm ofgen iushe plunges into work at the seductive studio of theinspector of the Gobelins . S ieur Boucher is at the


summit of his fame, petted by Madame de Pompadour,commiss ioned by King Pan . Surely the handsome

,

dark-faced Welshman, who can trace on copper thegal lant composit ions of his master as finely as any pupilofLe Bas, must have won the love of the gay, profligatepainter . And, should i t be h is humour, what a strangeworld Monsieur Boucher can reveal to the pupi l

’

s eyes !One day

,perhaps, he may hold before h im a jewel led

fan,glowing with luscious pictures, which he has just

created for l a belle Marquise. Or i t wil l be a fancysketch of some lacquered tabouret that he has designedfor her private room at Versail les . Sometimes he maygrasp the young man’s arm , and , drawing him a l itt leas ide

,wil l Open a secret portfol io, whispering, with a

smile upon his pleasure-worn face, and drooping hisd issolute eyel ids, Pour le boudoi r de Madame dansl’

HOtel de l’Arsenal. Then , while Wynne Ryland gazesupon the beautiful Anacreontic pictures, which no scenewith in the c ities of the plains can have excelled, hisblack

,thoughtful eyes wil l flash with admiration , and his

white teeth gl itter between hi s parted lips . I t is noplace for innocence

, nor for narrow virtue, th is glowing,gilded salon ofS ieur Boucher the incomparable.Yet the young Welshman does not neglect h i s proper

craft. As the work of later years bears eloquen ttestimony

,none of the gifted pup ils of Le Bas have

profited more from the instruct ion of that famous school .J acques Phil ippe

,as might be expected

,turns him on

to the plates of his Fables choisies, designs afterOudry-interpretat ions of La Fontaine parables , spreadover four mighty tomes, beloved of the amateur whocol lects the estampes galantes . Volume I I . , bearing date1 7 55, contains a couple of these— with s ignature i nGall ic orthography

,

‘ G . Riland’—portra its of peacock

feathered jay and boastful mule, humanised in the text ,though strangely wooden in the picture.


S ti l l , the l ine-engraver, with all h is splend id art, i s notthe master that moulds the destiny Of Wil l iam Wynne.Among the numerous pupi ls of Le Bas is an ingeniousperson named G i l les Demarteau, who is practis ing a newmethod of working his copper plate with tiny dots whichmake the finished print as smooth and soft as a drawingin chalk. Out ofthis ari ses a vehement artistic causerie ,for i t i s a sure fact that a man of forty, one J ean CharlesFrangois , has received a pension of 600 francs for thi ssame invention , which , some say, another before h iminvented after al l . Ryland , no doubt , learns everyth inghe can from both pioneers, without troubl ing to ascertainthe original discoverer, and , as this ‘ stipple ’ mannertakes his fancy, he soon becomes as dexterous as thosewho teach him . Further

,he finds that th is same dotted

plate may be t inted by the engraver’s brush , givingalmost perfect i l lus ion of a picture in water-colours .At last the young Welshman makes up his m ind to

complete the grand tour, without which the education ofan artist is incomplete . Some say that the medal hegained at the Académie Royale entitles him to freetu it ion at Rome . At all events, he fl ies south to blunthis penci l upon the gnarled contours Of Michael Angelo

,

and to shade the tender l ines of Raphael—for the immortals ofLeyden and Sevi lle have not yet thrown theseh igh priests from their al tar . This same enterpriseproves ofmuch service to h im when , i n a year or two, thegreat lords at home wish h im to transcribe

,i n the novel

‘Demarteau-after-Boucher ’ fash ion , their collections of

the great masters. H i therto he has been true to h i sfirst love, the l ine-engraving, i n the dainty fashion of LeBas , and the Paris ian connoisseurs of

’

57 , who gluetheir glasses upon the rounded l imbs ofLeda toying withher swan—a print after Boucher which Ryland has pul ledfrom his plate— acknowledge that some good has comefrom Angle terre at last .



keeps his eyes Open for budding genius , hears of theyoung Welsh engraver, the beater of F renchmen onthei r own soi l . Being an art-collector, probably he hasseen an assortment of the fleshy prints after Boucher.

S O,as Robie is with Charl ie over the water, Bute

secures Ryland to copy his l ikeness by the pol i te Allan ,and

,i n due course

,

“ the handsomest legs i n E ngland ”

—legs l i teral ly fit for a boot—appear in a very credi table l ine-engraving, emblazoned with a coat of arms .Thus in this month Of February 1 763 Will iam Wynnehas reached the top of the tree, happy and smil ing , atYe Red Lamp, Russel l S treet, Covent Garden , close toButton’s and Wil l’s . The portrait of the beautifullegs

,along with his red -chalk imitations—employed

industriously ever since h is return from the Continentin several sketches from the old masters

,—conv inces

‘Modern Maecenas ’ that Roble's room is better than

his company. A word whispered in the ear of theroyal mother would be enough to persuade apronstring George that the clever Welshman is the art istfor h is features . At al l events the great honour isoffered

,and Taffy, very shrewdly keeping his head ,

takes care that , from his point of view, i t i s a good deal .I t i s a most amazing deal—1; 100 down for the drawings,£50 a quarter as long as the work lasts, and theproceeds of the copyright . H owever

,thus i t stands

Wynne Ryland blazons himself with the fearsome t i tle,

‘ Calcographus Regis Britannim,

’ and,sett ing up in

the true manner of a master, begins to take pupils .One Of these, worthy J ames S trutt, who comes to himthe year after his ach ievement wi th the beautiful legs

,

remains a trusted friend through l ife,and the tutor

,i n

turn , ofhis eldest son, who , alas, meets an early death .

During the next four years , being paid for time,Ryland , l ike a true B ritish workman , continues to pickout slowly the salmon -l ips and G i l l ray stare of h is


THE K I NG’S ENGRAVER 85

royal master. A large number of the red -chalk en

gravings from pictures of the great painters in thepossess ion of noble patrons belong to th is period ; andwhen George is finished, he goes on to copy Cotes’

picture of the Queen with the infant Princess Royal i nher arms . While he is basking in smiles from thethrone

,he is employed in other ways, visit ing Paris

in the middle Of h is work to col lect engravings forthe royal connoisseur

,which prints

,we are told by

the festive Wil le,are “magnifiques épreuves

fournies comme pour un roi.”

These are the halcyon times Of the artist’s l ife— theseare the days when we catch a gl impse of h im swaggering along Bow S treet, with silver-hilted sword andample ruffles

,by the side of a heavy-j owled bra er of

handsome person and agi le, spi teful tongue, l isten ingwith black, eager eyes and flash ing teeth to the j ibesand sal l ies of his friend . Or, beneath the arm of th issame aggressive Charles Church i ll , he turns into Wil l

’scoffee-house, and sits in easy deference on the fringeof a l i ttle ring, while he hears a torrent of charming,vic ious diatr ibe

,at the expense of poor patron Bute

,

pouring from the wine-sta ined lips of the cross-eyedapostle of l iberty. Or perhaps poet Charles, whowields the Twickenham rapier in the fashion of abutcher with h is cleaver

,may take up this Dunciad Of

peers,roaring out a gruesome fable—how poor J ohn

Ayliffe was strung up at Tyburn to shut his l ips concerning the crimes of peculator Fox . Then , while theytalk of the forged deed that brought the luckless agentto the gallows , a shudder may pass through the gracefu ll imbs ofartist Will iam as he thinks what a small mattermay take a man to the triple tree .

At other times two chairs wil l hal t in Russell S treet,and Ryland and architect J ohn Gwynn , gorgeous i nbrocade frocks

,sat in knee-breeches, and silk stockings,


wil l step out gai ly, giving the order to thei r bearers intwo sign ificant monosyl lables—‘ Carl isle H ouse .

’

Andamong all the dazzl ing throng that crowds the salons offai r Therese Imer, alas for the worth of poor humannature ! the one we know best—better, even , than theOld maid i n kn ickerbockers from S trawberry H i l l—isa broad-l imbed I tal ian

,with frizzy hair and fierce n igger

eyes ; which same African-t inged gentleman movesthrough the company with much self-conscious play ofrobust leg, and a truculent s tare, ogling such a one ashalf-draped Iphigenia Chudleigh , or making obeisanceto buxom Carol ine Harrington , whi le the whisper follows ,keeping company the almost fi l ial glance ofpretty SophyCornelys

—“ The famous Casanova—it i s the Cheval ierde S eingalt. Then

,should Wynne Ryland draw close

while the splendid blackguard babbles French to M ilordPembroke or M ilord Baltimore , he wil l hear a dreadfu ltale of a certain Mademoisel le la Charpillon,

who, to

the eternal honour of her frai l fame, has humil iated thesooty rascal to his nat ive gutter. Wynne Ryland andcompanion J ohn are very fond of these l ight and ai ryassembl ies in Soho Square .

For the clever engraver his connoisseur Majesty seemsto foster a great regard . Poss ibly, the proof prin ts ofWil le fi t for a king —have been picked up for an oldsong, and tickle his thrifty soul . At al l events, he ispleased to grant to the artist a most amazing royal boonfor, at his intercession, he— the third George, by thegrace of God—actual ly pardons a capi tal felon . A

ne’er-do-weel rascal th is same poor felon,so tradition

relates, but all the same he is Wynne Ryland’s ownbrother. N ear Brentford , or upon breezy HounslowH eath , or some such fash ionable highwayman resort, i na drunken frol ic—after the fash ion of S i las Told’

s re

spited friend David Morgan—he cal ls upon two unpro

tected females to stand and del iver. And for this same




as the sequel shows—a sequel prol ific i n pictures of theimmortal sheik struggl ing against his envi ronment ofsands and storms and improv idence , which , l ike hisinterpreter B lake, sheik J ob, overwhelmed by tree-trunklegs and half a gale of beard , regards as the judgmen tof his God. But th is weird boy with the large head andamaz ing eyes objects to the parental scheme of makinghim a pupi l of the great engraver. “ Father, I do no t

l ike the man’s face, murmurs boy Blake, when the pairhave left Ryland’s studio. I t looks as i f he wil l l ive tobe hanged ! Presc ience , i ntui t ion—al l the things notdreamt of in thy ph ilosophy,

” babble h is legatee mysti cs,

bowing the knee to j aundiced m ind as rapturously asto portrai ts Of human abort ions, aping verbal harmonyof empty sound, plastering deformi ties with girafle necksand swol len l imbs in a wealth of muddy hair and asaffron skin—good and sedulous d isciples . Boy Blakecan have heard noth ing of the brother Richard hangingescape ! Such a small affair has never been breathed byfond parents who go to entrust a weird son to brotherWynne ! Prescience, intuition , are more potent physicalinstincts than the throb of suggest ion or empiric thought.Thus clamour legatee mystics, spurning the simplemental machinery put into motion by the assoc iation of

ideas .I t has been reserved for a lady of our own t imes ,

whose graceful pen has been devoted to the radiantprints of fair women of olden days, to tel l the romanticstory ofpoor, crushed , bankrupt Ryland and sweet femin ine chari ty in the person of dove-eyed ‘Miss Angel. ’

A scene, al lur ing as any of the glowing old-world en

gravings, is th is dainty -coloured picture painted byMrs F rankau . Within the oak-panel led studio, throughwhich the winter twi l ight is steal ing in fl ickering shadows,the two ardent soul s are wrapt in the communion ofart.And while coy

,diaphanous Angel ica l istens to the fas

THE K ING’S ENGRAVER 89

cinating tongue of the viri le, dark-skinned Welshman,her qu ick southern fancy whispers that th is man is theknight-errant who shal l wri te her fame amidst the stars .Ryland has come with a heart of lead ; he goes awaywith a heart of gold. For one of the most famous of

unions in the annals ofpainting has been sealed, and in al ittle while the prints after Kauffman wil l have capturedthe imagination of the whole world .

I n a house in Queen’s Row, Knightsbridge, the greatengraver commences one ofthose l ife-and-death strugglesthat genius alone can wage successful ly against mal ic iousfate. Gradually—for he is young and strong andbrave

,while the trust of a sweet woman warms h is

courage—he emerges from the choking atmosphere of

debt. One by one his cred i tors are paid,and at last,

free from his bankrupt chains, he is h is own master. I ti s a fine work, th is proud, i ndependent cancell ing OfObligations—merely moral claims—a fa ir tribute to thelady who has been his tutelar d ivin i ty. For i t is throughhis engravings of Miss Angel

’s pictures, to which heappl ies the ‘ stipple method ’ which he learnt in France,that he wins his way back to fame and fortune!

. Soonhe i s a contributor to the newly-formed Royal Academyexhib it ion , sending very properly as h is first works acouple of drawings copied from the canvas of the sylphKauffman . Thus pass three sober years

,while he

perfects h is new art,l iv ing wi th h is young wife far from

the del ights of town and the old seduct ive companionsh ip

,first at Knightsbridge, and then moving a couple

of miles further out i nto rural Hammersmith .

At last he resolves to tempt the grimy god of tradeonce more. Better assets are in h is store than a salmonprofi le k i ng or maternal maj esty, and he knows that themarketing bourgeo is wi l l not be h indered by squint ofWilkes from clamouring for h is many pictures ofVenus,beaming with the soft, dove-l ike eyes of pretty M iss


Angel . So,i n the thi rd year after h is bankruptcy, he

hangs out his sign once more as an honest print-sel ler atNO. 159 i n the S trand , near Somerset H ouse , by thecorner of S trand Lane, trading as Will iam WynneRyland

,engraver to h is Majesty. F rom the first the

enterprise flourishes . Angel ica’s plump l ittle Cupids ,drawn in rosy chalk, appeal in their sugges t ive resemblance to the heart of the Brit i sh matron ; the daintyAngel ica Venus, with her large haunting eyes , becomes apattern of female lovel iness ; Angel ica

’s mild and chasteinterpretations of class ic romance push as ide all prev iousreadings . More than all, the Kauffman pinks andyel lows, transformed by the deft fingers of the wonderful Welshman into soft, rainbow-t inged impressionsl ike a del icate painting in water-colours—capture thepubl ic fancy. Such engravings never have been seenbefore, and never wi ll be seen again . I t is not strangethat No. 159 i n the S trand becomes one of the mostpopular pri nt-shops in London .

During those n ine years,from 1 7 74 unti l the spri ng

of 1 7 83 , the trade venture of the engraver to h is Maj estycontinues to enjoy great prosperity. Profits reach thesum of two thousand a year

,while stock and plant swel l

to a total of five figures . Few wel l-fobbed merchants ,no chai r-sporting C ity dame

,can resist the temptat ions

of that seductive window . A pleasant s ight for M issAngel, that l i ttle knot of open-mouthed Shop-gazers withburn ing pockets, as she passes in hackney coach , a vis ionof cl inging drapery in her white I rish polonese . While,i f at that moment the happy proprietor steps out, boundfor the counting-house Of S i r Charles Asgill and hisfriend Mr N ightingale

,with whom he is having some

considerable bil l of exchange transactions—a gl impse Ofthose large eyes and crest of feathers at the coachwindow will bring down his laced hat in a sweep ofobeisance , as he bows to the knees. Then, after the




London merchant opens h is newspaper—Morning

Chronicle or Daily Advertiser m —he reads there thatWi ll iam Wynne Ryland stands charged before the RightH on . the Lord Mayor on suspic ion offorging the acceptance of two bil l s of exchange for payment of £7 1 14,with intent to defraud the United East I ndia Company.

Kind J ohn Gwynn throws aside his plans of statelyed ifices, walking the streets wi th streaming eyes, sorrowing for his friend . S tatuesque Domin ico Angel icohurries to condole with poor Mary Ryland , and the sightof the agonised wife and ch ild ren robs the good-heartedI tal ian swordsman of sleep . But the engraver had lefthis home at Knightsbridge on the first of the month

,

and although the C i ty Marshal searches for h im in theO ld Bailey and in the M inories , nothing is heard of himfor fourteen days .On the morn ing of the 15th ofApril , a drunken woman

reels into the ‘ Brown Bear,’ Bow S treet, hiccupping an

excit ing story that entices the runners even from theirpewter pots . She is the wife of a S tepney cobbler, whofor many days has been harbouring a strange lodger—a

man garbed in an old rusty coat , with green apron andworsted nightcap

,who poses as inval id Mr J ackson

who needs the country air ; which same delicate inval idrests indoors all day, only venturing out after nightfallto enjoy the heal th-giving Apri l east winds . But heis not Mr Jackson at al l , babbles t ipsy Mrs CobblerF reeman

,for, when taking one of his shoes to her

husband to mend , she noticed a bi t Of paper pasted on

the inside,and

,tearing i t away

,she has seen written h is

real name—Wil l iam Wynne Ryland . This is greatnews for the ‘ Brown Bear ’ runners

,and Chief-offi cer

Daly, accompanied by a fellow robin - redbreast, takescoach wi th Mrs Cobbler Freeman to S tepney Green .

From h is garret window the gui lty engraver beholdsthe coming of the bloodhounds . With a brief prayer

THE K ING’S ENGRAVER 9 3

for pardon he fl ies to his razor, and when the constables burst through the door they find h im stretched

Upon the boards with a gash across his throat . S ti l l, hehas not cheated cruel fate. A surgeon staunches hiswound

,and watchers surround hi s bed lest he should

seek to meet death once more . I n the agony of thatlong night

,while physical torture conquers even the

deep,black pain of unutterable despai r, the wretched

sufferer atones for the sins of a l ifet ime . Yet on themorrow they take him rudely from his couch , and wh ilethe foul cobbler goes clamouring to the I ndia H ouse forhis blood-money

,Ryland is brought before S i r Sampson

Wright,who sits in the place of bl ind J ohn F ielding

in the office at Bow S treet. There he is given overto Governor Smith

,who carries h im to the Bridewel l

at Tothi ll F ields,where he l ies for weeks sick almost

unto death .

Newspaper canards spring up in wonted manner l ikemus hrooms from a dungh i ll . Mr Ryland

,who cannot

recover—“ so they say —has confessed his crime to SheriffRobert Taylor

,naming also a pair of accompl ices

,and

hints a th ird . AS he cannot recover—so they sayKeeper Smith has a couple ofmen to watch him always

,

les t he should ki l l himself. Newspaper reason usesthese Odd arguments and more . Among the feasts ofscandal crammed down the publ ic gul let one fact isreadi ly digested—Ryland is gu il ty beyond all refutationForged E . I.C. bi l ls have been found in shoals —nonebut the great engraver could have been their authorhe attempted self-murder because he was certain ofconvict ion. All true, poss ibly ; nay, probably, but whereis the proof ?

The trial of the poor s ick artist skips a sess ion . I ntender mercy those in power do not shut him up in fet id

,

overcrowded Newgate,but allow him to remain under

the watchful care of good Keeper Smith . H i s kind


jai lor does eve ryth ing in his power to l ighten his drearylot, making him a trusted friend, allowing him to takewalks with h im in the open street, confident that he wi llnot break h is parole . I t is not unti l the eve of thesession that they drive h im to the O ld Bai ley, aroundwhose bloodstained wal ls he used to play wi th hisbrothers as a ch ild .

On Saturday, the a6th of J uly, he i s brought to face hisaccusers. Not unti l the last moment do Crown lawyersintimate the terms of indictment, for there are severalforged bi l ls laid to h is charge, and, convict ion appearinga matter of doubt, the H onourable B . I.C . wishes to becertain of its prey. S O Crown lawyers select a m inorcharge— a smal l b i l l for £2 IO—which they assertRyland has copied and engraved from a true document

,

uttering it knowing i t to be forged . Both bi lls havebeen lately in the prisoner

’

s possession—this i s madeclear—but wh ich is the counterfeit ? A hard nut forCrown lawyers, since both are l ike as two peas. Unlessthey Show that the first which Ryland had received isthe true one, the i r case falls to the ground, for no mancan copy what he has not seen . A breathless crowd

,

whose hearts are al l for the man in the dock,watch the

ghastly duel of keen wits, for i t is death to one i f he i svanquished . Witnesses come and go, but tierce andparry keep the defendant unscathed. Witnesses advanceand reti re, but Crown lawyers find them weak reeds.Banker Ammersley swears to h is signature on the firstbil l

,but th is proves nothing, as Banker Ammersley

’

s

autograph is not the sea l of Company J ohn. One Holt,

late E . I.C . secretary, whose brain is not so clear as i twas, makes a dismal d isplay in the box , while thecourage of Ryland’s friends mounts h igh . One Omer

,

B . I.C . clerk, tries to Spot the t rue bi ll, but counselPeckham involves h im in a maze of legerdemain . Allthe gallant l ittle host of wel l-wishers

,who have drunk


96 SOME DISTI NGU ISHED V ICT IMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

chasm in the evidence , endeavouring to prove that thehonourable servants of the B . I.C . have made a m istake.F inal ly

,when this big-brained lady-whipping Buller

comes to instruct the jury, he spec ial ly commends thepri soner’s defence—read by the clerk of arraigns

,as poor

Ryland’s throat is too sore for the effort—for i ts matterand good sense.Then mercy h ides her face , for the youthful judge

lays down calmly the most astounding of eighteenthcentury judicial dogmas . I t stands prisoner,

” declaresth is Bul ler

,

“ to Show how he came by the bil l i n orderto prove he did not know i t to be forged .

”

S o—mustyold twiners of red tape— they cannot fasten the guil tupon the man

,thus with impotent tu guogue they

demand that he shal l prove his innocence . S ince theycannot rip him Open in the witness-box, they shift their

own burden upon his shoulders . S i nce he cannot proveh is innocence

,they deem him guil ty, forgetting the good

Brit i sh legal converse of th is propos i t ion . Bewilderedby judicial hair-spl i tt ing, the jury at last withdraw.

No direct evidence convicts him—circumstances, prej udice rather

,the whispered stories of numerous B . I.C .

bi lls (forgeries all ) that have passed through thehands of the engraver. I f one i nd ictment does not

draw,Others wi l l fol low—he had the motive, means ,

and opportunity,and he flew to his razor when the

runners came to take him . H alf an hour Of suchreason ing kneads the brains of jury into proper hanging shape

,and they dec ide that to Tyburn the prisoner

must go .

Quiet and brave,as he has been through his long

trial,the man in the dock ri ses to his feet when his

judges return . Courage is stamped on the strong, deeplines of his face , though the face is wh ite as his softruffles, or as the snowy vest that l ies beneath his russetcoat . Coming forward , he l istens calmly whi le they


declare h im gui lty, bowing to the Bench . A thril l runsthrough the court when the foreman pronounces thedread word , but, though al l hearts are throbbing withpain, one fond hope rises in every breast—that the powerof a gracious king wil l rescue this erring genius from ashameful death. Also, the poor servant h imself thinksfirst of his royal master ; for as he is conducted backto loathsome Newgate, he tells the friends around himthat, although he has been the victim of persecution , hecan perceive a beam of mercy. Alas

,he could not know

his sovereign !A week later the dreary sessron draws to a close,

and Ryland is brought up again,and alone, before the

rest of the convicts,to hear his sentence. Calmly and

bravely he bears th is ordeal l ike the last. Alreadytwo peti tions have been presented at Windsor—one theday after he was condemned

,the other on the thirt ieth

of the month . I t is supposed that he will be kept al ivefor a while, s ince he has begged that his l ife may bepreserved a l i ttle longer

,not for his own sake, but that

he may finish some plates for the benefi t of his wife andchildren . Even the heart Of royal George may havebeen touched by the p iteous request. S O the prisonerspends the gloomy days in toi l ing at h is task, scrapingthe copper sheets with h is stipple-graver

,l i teral ly dying

in harness. Nor is i t inadequate work,for when his

printer is al lowed to bring him the proofs he i s ableto murmur with satisfact ion

,

“ Mr Haddrill, my taskis finished !” Yet two pictures after all are leftincomplete, one of which Bartolozz i , to whom he sendsto beg the favour

,and who owes h im as a master of his

craft so much,promises to take in hand, while jovial

Will iam Sharp pol ishes the other. For King George,when pressed once more to spare the poor artist becauseof his great gen ius

,repl ies sternly No ; a man with

such ample means of providing for h is wants could not7


reasonably plead necess ity as an excuse for his crime. ”

Material logic, worthy of the man !On Friday

,the 29 th ofAugust , dawns the fatal morn ing.

Before n ine o’clock the outer Press Yard is overflowingwith sight ~ seers ; but because of Governor Akerman

’

s

humane order, none are al lowed with in the small er courtto d isturb the las t moments of the unhappy sufferers .Presently the iron-studded door of the lodge is flungopen

,and Sheriff Taylor, bearing his wand of Office ,

enters the prison to demand the bod ies of h is vic tims .Then through the expectant crowd the turnkeys slowlyforce a path

,and down th is narrow lane the malefactors

walk one by one with hideous C lank of fetters . On h isknees beside a block of stone a creature with punch andhammer deftly rids them of their chains . F ive timesthe strident blows echo through the vaulted wal ls

,while

as many unhappy wretches pass into the hands of thehangman ’s lacqueys, busy wi th their bonds and cords.Last of al l comes a sl im , graceful figure

,clad in a sui t

Of mourning with white ruffles and si lver shoe-buckles,unencumbered by chains, walking as unconcerned ly asthough he were a spectator of the scene. A shudderruns through the throng as all eyes rest upon the giftedartist

,who, as he passes on , quietly salutes those friends

whom he chances to recognise. With a respectful bowthe Sheriff advances and leads the prisoner to thelodge

,away from the crowded quadrangle.

Don’t tie M r Ryland too t ight,” he commands the

attendants as they fasten the cords .“ Never mind , s i r,

” is the quiet answer ; “ they giveme no uneasmess .

All the t ime he chats calmly to those around, bearinghimself in th is

,as through all other scenes to the end

,

as a brave heart and a gentleman . Then the clatter ofarms is heard outside , for the City Marshal is bringing uphis troop . A moment later the door i s thrown back

,


IOO SOME DISTI NGU I SH ED VIC fIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

may beat in cruel blows against h is heart, as he movespast the old church at whose font his brothers and sisterswere given the ir Christian names , there i s no tremorvisible to the thousands who gloat upon his form . Downthe Slopes Of Snow H i l l runs the quick, eager whisper,for the eyes of al l seek but one man , “Which is MrRyland And the careless murmur swells into a loudetkey

,

“ There he is in the coach— that i s he— that isRyland — the heartless babble of a multi tude of savages .Thicker and thicker teems the concourse , as the procession crawls over the bridge and up Holbourn H i l l,swol len l ike a black , turgid river by streams that flowfrom haunts of fi l th and foulness— the sweepings ofthe slums . Thieves , cut-throats , hoarse drunkards, andshril l st rumpets join in the del irious march with the loud

,

mad tread of a thousand clattering feet .Thus they move onward . Within the sable coachthe smug Ordinary is mumbl ing scraps Of H oly Wri tperta in ing to the time and place , the val ley of theshadow of death . I n response , a hundred ribald oathsand loathsome jests are peal ing al l around . Within thesable coach the poor ecstati c housebreaker is piping aquavering hymn

,h is j oints shaking in palsy

,his eyes

,

which gleam in horr ible whiteness , raised to the skies .All around , the hands of a hundred th ieves are busy atwork as they tramp along in th is march to the grave.Beyond Chancery Lane the wide thoroughfare seems topass into a new world . Although the street echoes sti l lto the tread of ten thousand squal id footsteps

,high up on

either side , at the windows or in the narrow balcon ies,wealth and beauty take their part in the mighty spectacle.Sweet , pale faces look down , while soft, heaving bosomspress the easements . Beings who m ight soar amidst thestars are sunk in the mire—al l compel led by the haunting

,

i rresist ible tramp rol l ing onward in the march of death .

Yet the footsteps never pause . Forward stil l,winding


through S t G i les , the highroad to Tyburn opens to theview. There is no halt now for the Lazar-house bowl

,

nor would those fettered men in the carts wish to quaffi t. Huddled together in the first, the three are babbl ingsupplications ; prone and fainting, a half-dying creaturei s stretched within the last. I n front, the hystericalhousebreaker is swaying l ike a drunkard on the seat ofhis coach

,sti l l quavering forth his pi teous hymn . Only

the art ist , whose carriage leads the way to the shambles,gaz ing calmly around with grave, stony face , will have notruck with the cant of human ity . For his thoughts arefar d istant, fleeing from the mighty roll of footsteps t illthey soften to his ears l ike the murmur ofmuffled drums .All around him are vis ions of bygone days . You

narrow road that is pouring forth its human torrentleads to Soho, where , with the gentle Gwynn, he usedto vis i t the gilded palace of Therese Cornelys , or thatother Carl isle House, the fencing-school of splendidAngelo . Down that long street is Golden Square

,but

there is no pretty M iss Angel to weep for h im . Andfar away, beyond the distant horizon , l ies the palace ofhis king, but before it there is reared the gaunt, frightfulspectre of the triple tree.Then the sound of voices swells louder whi le the

march is stayed . Through the windows of his coach hecan see the three bare posts close at hand, so that hecan almost touch them . S lowly the creaking carts roll

forward , halting beneath the wooden bars , and a sweepingcircle of soldiers spreads itself around . Perched uponthe park wal l is a long mass of expectant faces . H ereand there rise huge stands , t ier upon tier, choked to thefull wi th swaying human ity. As far as the eye can reachis a dense

,surging throng, crush ing forward, ever crush

ing, as though eager to press the v ictims to their doom .

Presently the black clouds that have been slowlyunfurl ing their shadows across the August sky burst i n a

IOZ SOME D ISTI NGU ISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

peal of thunder,and the tempest rushes through the ai r.

Amidst the flashes of l ightning, a fierce rainstorm hurlsi tself to earth. For a moment the bloody work mustpause

,s ince it i s impossible to stand against the bl inding

torrents . H alf an hour passes . Then the deluge ceasesas suddenly as i t arose . H asti ly the Sheri ff gives h isorders

,and soon expert hands have arranged the ropes

around the necks of the three rain-soaked wretches inthe cart. Swiftly the second tumbri l , i n wh ich thesick man is ly ing prostrate, backs to the coach where si tsthe peni tent housebreaker, and he is summoned to thegal lows . I n a few moments the hal ters are placed uponthei r heads

,while the contri te th ief entreats the mul ti

tude to take warn ing from his fate . At last, when alli s ready

,they cal l upon Mr Ryland . Springing l ightly

down the steps , he mounts the cart , and stands besideh is two fellow-sufferers—a brave , graceful gentleman inblack

,quiet and unfl inching . S trange contrast indeed

to the swooning creature on the floor, or to the noisyburglar

,who shrieks to heaven , wringing his hands.

O rd inary V i l lette comes forward , pressing h is holy attentions upon the unhappy art ist, who l istens to h im ca lm lyand respectfully

,while close at hand his wretched com

panions pray long and loud . Suddenly there is a shri l l,

wail ing sound , rising and fal l ing in equal cadence withthe see-saw rhythm of a hymn , The S inner’s Lamentat ion

,

” which four terror-stricken creatures, with theirheads thrown back, bellow loudly to the skies. Andal l th i s time

,firm , motionless , i nscrutable , bearing even

the greatest ignominy—the contact of these foul oneswithout a tremor, Wynne Ryland stands Si lent , waitingfor the las t cruel moment . Swiftly i t comes . H i s faceis covered , the hangman lashes his horse, the footholdsweeps from beneath , and he passes into oblivion . Tothe other five who sway in the ai r at h is elbow (saveone) death also is merciful .


IO4 SOME D ISTI NGU ISH ED V ICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

t iny churchyard of Fel tham , beyond H ounslow, whereh is father and mother had been laid to rest. For a longtime after h is death Mrs Ryland continued to keep aprint-shop at the corner of Berners S treet , where herhusband’s engravings commanded a large sale. Subsequently she transferred her business to New BondS treet. From contemporary newspapers we l earn thatthe Ryland plates were much sought after in Pariswhen his untimely fate became known . N ine yearslater, on the 2oth of October 1 79 2 ,

the unhappy wifewent to join her husband in the l ittle grass-plot of theVi llage by the Thames .With the exception of that mighty scholar EugeneAram , the eighteenth century never suffered deeperloss by the hangman’s rope than in the death of braveand graceful Wynne Ryland . J ust as the marvelloususher i s the greatest of schoolmen , so is the S trandengraver incomparably the greatest arti st that endedhis days upon the scaffold . With him the dissoluteand passionate Theodore Gardelle can no more becontrasted than poet Gahagan with the former. Yet,unl ike the sombre Aram

,poor Ryland did not bear the

stain of blood upon his hands. Nor was the ev idenceof h is guilt less open to doubt. Because he fai led toprove h is innocence they sent him to his death . S ti l l

,

al though there was no lack of tears and lamen tation ,h is cruel fate did not exci te the same interest nor causethe un iversal conste rnation that was aroused in simi larcases. Neither Horace Walpole , Mrs Delany

,nor

George Selwyn speak his name,and gossip Tom

Smith merely mentions h im incidental ly in a l ist ofengravers . A reason is not far to seek . Not being aman offashion

,how was i t possible that an epoch which

had beheld so many stupendous melodramas should begreatly shocked by his atonement ? Preacher Dodd,the pet of devout lad ies ; the unfortunate brothers


over whom the charms of Margaret Rudd cast thehalo of romance ; sold ier-parson H ackman

,w i th h is

love and madness ; poisonous Captain Donellan of

Lawford Hal l—all these magn ificent criminals had latelymade the march to Tyburn , or elsewhere . Little wonderthat society, ennuye

‘ by the Sight of the gallows , had lostits zest for convict-worship .

To say that Will iam Wynne Ryland might have beenthe greatest engraver that the world has seen wouldbe to state an equivocal proposit ion

,s ince modern

print-science, to which the splendid art has given bi rth ,scarce real i ses comparat ive methods

,and has no com

plete l ist of precise terms . Yet the assertion that nonehave ever excelled him as a creator of the colouredstipple i s a mere plati tude. Also

,i t would be d ifficult

to name any other artist who has produced finerwork in al l the three great branches of engraving— l ine,dot, and mezzotint. S ti l l

,l ike every roll ing stone, he

suggests rather than demonstrates the possess ion of

superlative powers. Although few surpass h im as adraughtsman

,colourist, and craftsman, he shares the

fate of al l who pursue unworthy models . While thefair Kauffman sinks i nto insignificance i n contrast toS i r J oshua, the man who translated her pictures intothei r popular form is worthy to take his place bes ideal l the masters who fash ioned engravings after Reynolds .Through the whole of h is l ife i t is the same . I n carelessvigour he speeds along the d ifficult paths that lead tothe golden mountain-tops

,but never reaches the summit.

To Wale or to Oudry he gives more than to FrancoisBoucher. Smil ing Ramsay and courtly Bute snatchh im from his al legiance to the mighty I tal ians . Alwaysopportun ist

,the pleasures of the world entangle him

amidst a stifl ing undergrowth,where h is wings may not

expand to bear him aloft, free and unconfined .

Nor are his copies of Angel ica the best that she


can offer. I n humble serv itude he seems to take all

that is given to h im . The slave of popular taste , unlikeBartolozz i he never casts off h is shackles. A s imperingVenus, an over-fed Cupid , a G recian warrior wi th afemin ine frame—these are the subjects upon which hewastes his powers . Even when opportun i ty comes todraw a human portrait in the person of a noble woman,he has to struggle against the mockery of a burl esquedress— furled Turkish trousers

,or a Grec ian turban .

Yet how different is the obvious ideal ! S i nce he couldtransform the work of M iss Angel ’ with such wondrousart , conjecture may dream of entrancing pictures afterGainsborough , i n min iature, but in perfect semblance,glowing with al l the gorgeous t ints of the great master.An il lustrious feather-pate, gazing with idolatry upon

his own modern photograph,has screamed

,

“ Camerabeats the brush ! Look upon that picture, and thenpresume to tel l me that Rembrandt or Velasquez hasfash ioned its equal . ” Obviously

,for those painters never

had such a model as il lustrious feather -pate. Yetfeather -pate but babbles the gibberish of h is t imes.All who inveigh against soulless l i thograph or pollparrot photography, saying that monarchs of the brushare with us sti l l whose works are worthy of theengraver’s steel , cry as prophets of the wilderness .“ Camera beats the print

,

” shrieks Cosmos ; magnaest v ilitas , et prze valebit .

” Thus poor Cinderel la,who

never went to the ball wi th her more gorgeous s isters,is d riven even from her home in the ki tchen .

S t i l l , could some god transport Wynne Ryland fromthe sunny plains

,he would find work for h is hand as

alluring as the canvas of Angel ica Kauffman . I nthe gossamer creations of such as Alma Tadema andB lair Leighton , the soft-coloured print might begin anew l ife. I s i t too late to hope that ere he passed overthe dark river he left h is mantle upon the shore ?


IO8 SOME DISTI NGU ISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

The exhibits ofRyland,with thei r dates

,are as fo llows

1772. No. 227 . Vort ' em fal ling in love wi th Rowena afte r A.

ufl'

man.

No. 228 . The inte rv iew between Edgar and Elfri da after hermarriage with AthelwaId—after A.

No . 229 . A Port rait ofa child drawing.

177 3. No. 259 . Domes tic Employmen t—a drawing.

17 74. No . 255. A Frame with sund ry Port raits.NO. 256

17 75. No . 268 . Juno bo rrowing th e Cestusred chalk, after A . Kauffman.

33404. Brit. Mus .

6 . joseph S trutt'

s B iog. D ic. ofE ngravers ( 1785 11. 285. Brit. Mus.7 . A Collection of Prints in Imitation of D rawings. 2 vols. 1778. Edited byCharles Rogers. Brit . Mus.

Ryland cont ributed fift -seven plates . These two vo lumes should beincluded in any co llection 0 Ryland’s works .

8. N ichol’

s Literary Anecdotes Vol. ii i . 256 , vol. v . 668, 681, 686.

9 . Reminiscences ofHe nry Angelo. 2 vo ls. London,1828-30. Vol. i . pp. 473

83. New Edition by Joseph Grego and H . Lavers Smi th. Kegan Paul. 1904.

Vol. i. pp . 366 , 370—7 5.

Ryland was a frequent v is itor at the fencin and riding schoo l, which theelder Angelo had established at Carl isle House ,

rlisle S tree t,andwhich , oddly

enough , was the second build ing ofthat name in Soho Square.

10. Me‘rnoires et journal dc]. G. W ille. 2 vo ls. Jules Renouard . Paris, 1857 .

Vol. i . pp. 287 , 228.

W i l le met Ryland in Paris on April 17 , April 18, and May 9 , 1765. He

tel ls us that he had been acquainted with him when the Engl ish engraverin France seven or eight years prev iously (t . e. in 1757 which da tes fit inwith other known incidents ofRyland’s l ife.

II . CONTEMPORARY NEW S PAPERS AND MAGAZ INES

1 . The Gentleman’s lilagaz ine p. 572 ; p . 594 ; part i.

PP 359 . 443 ; Part ii PP 626. 7 10. 7 14 ; Pa“ 1 P 87

2 . The E uropean Magazine part II. pp. 158, 172- 173.

3. The Morning Post, April-August 1783.

4. The Morning Chron icle, do.

5. The Morn ing Herald, do.

6. do.

7 . The Public Advertiser,

do.

8 . The Daily Adv ertiser, do.

9 . The General Advertiser , do.

10. The W hitehall Evening Post, do.

1 1 . The London Recorder, do .

12. Ayre'

s S unday London Gazette, do.

13. The Gazetteer and New Daily Advertiser, do.

14. Lloyd’

s E vening Post, do.

The most complete account of the t rial wil l be found in the Marni Post,Monday, July 28

, 1783. Those who are interes ted in the much ebated

ques tion whether the site of the‘Tyburn Tree ’

was in Connaught Square ,Bryanston Stree t , or Upper Seymour Street, would do wel l to remember thaton Augus t 29 , 1783 (so the papers tel l us ) , the gal lows were placed fifty yardsnearer the park wal l than usual. Natural ly, its pos i t ion was changed from timeto time .

B IBLIOGRAPHY OF TH E RYLAND CASE I09

NOTES

NOTE I .-Dic. Nat . B log. The date of Ryland’s birth is given as July 1732 !

N01 was he the e ldes t , but the third son ofhis father.NOTE I I . -E ighteenth Century Colour P rints. Mrs Julia I‘rankau. Macmi l lan

1gohiiis Frankau’s explanation of the flight ofRyland is scarcely plaus ible . I t is not

credible that a man who is engaged in a frantic search for a lost mist ress wouldremain in close hiding,

pos ing as an invalid , only venturing abroad after dark . Nor

is i t a tenable assumption that he attempted to commit suic ide in a fi t of despairbecause he fancied that he was being arres ted for debt, and thusmight lose all chanceoffind ing his chin amie. One of the strongest pleas in his defence was that hisfortune was

‘ princely,’ and he protes ted that he fled because he could not find

th e man from whom he had received the fatal bil l. I t is a st range coincidence thatthe discovery of the fraud upon the Eas t India Company should have taken placeon the eve of his disappearance . Mo reov er, he was not arrested for the forgery tha tsecured his conv iction. The war rant charged him with coun terfeit ing two o ther billsofexchange to the value of£7 1 14 (as reference to the advert isement columns of the

dai ly papers of Apri l 3 W il l Show ) , and i t was not until this publicity tha t Mr

More land , the banker, examined the bil l for £2 10, which Ryland had deposited withhis house . Thus the accusation of one crime led to the discovery ofanother I And

i t is stil l more s trange that the artist should have cashed an East India Company bil lofthe value of£2 10 on September 19 , 1782 , while on Novembe r 4 he Should havehanded to his banker another bill—an exact copy of the first—bearing a similar date,denomination, and acceptances . A l though these two identical bills came intoRyland’s possess ion within the space of a few weeks, he did not seek an explanationof the remarkable coincidence . A careful survey of all the facts mus t conv inceeveryone of the guilt of the unfortunate engrav er, but it is a pleasure to be able toagree with Mrs Frankau—except in some minor details—in her contention that theev idence was not conclusive. Ryland was convicted because he fai led to Show thath e had rece ived the forged bill from another person,

and to cas t thus the burdenof proof from the prosecution to the defence is quite foreign to the methods of a

modern t ribunal .S ince the Cathol ic has become the spoi lt child of contemporary l iterature, i t is not

surprising to find W ynne Ryland hailed as the v ictim of Protestan t persecution. Yet

there appears to be no ev idence to support this assumption . There is not a l ine inthe news pape rs of the day to indicate that any anti-Romanist feel ing was aroused ,and had such been the case , the P ublic Advertiser , at all ev ents

,whose animosity

towards ‘ Popery ’ is sufliciently ev ident , wou ld have trumpeted loudly . I t issignificant that th e mob never behaved with greater propriety—very unusual conductin the howling Tyburn crowd—than on August 29 , 1783 . How different would i thave been if the word had been whis pered that a Papist was going to the gal lows !St ru tt and Angelo,

who write so sympathetical ly of their friend , have nothing to sayon this subject , and, indeed , accept his gu il t as proved . A lthough the former, whowrote in 1785, might have reason for reticence, yet the latter, whose book waspubl ished a year before the Emancipation Act

,could have no reason to suppress

such ev idence. Indeed , we have on ly the doubtful authority of the Authentic

Memoires for the statement that Ryland was a‘supposed ’ Catho l ic in his early

youth. W ith this very ambiguous suggestion we must reconcile the s trange fact thathe was buried in a grav ed of the Established Church

,and that the last rites were

performed by an Anglican clergyman There are one or two slips ofthe pen in Mrs

Frankau’s interesting memoir. As the catalogue of the Royal Academy shows tha tRyland contributed his first drawing in 1772- four years afte r the institution wasestabl ished—he was not one of the earlies t exhibitors.

” From the same cataloguei t appears that the print-shop in the Strand was opened in 17 74 . The date ofthepublication ofthe AuthenticMemoires

, given as 1794 , is , of course , a clerical error.Owing to the footnote attached to Ryland’s letter to Francis Donaldson ofLiverpoo l,printed in the Morn ing Post

,September 2, 1783, the document must be regardedwith suspicion. No triv ial disagreement with the conclusions ofMrs Frankau can

dimin ish the interes t of her del ightful account of the great engraver, wh ich mustremain the most valuable ofrecent monographs.

NOTE I I I .—There are references to W . W . Ryland in the innumerable dictionaries of painters and engravers , French, German, and English , such as Basan

,Le

Blane, Portal is and Beraldi

,Andreas Andrescen

,Redgrave , Bryan, etc . One of

the best of modern notices will be found in the P rint Collectors’H andbook

,by

A lfred W hitman .

I IO SOME DISTI NGU ISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

A LIST OF W ILLIAM WYNNE RYLAND’S ENGRAVINGS .

(By RUTH BLEACKLEV. )

1. Les Grfices nu Bain, after Boucher.2. La Be l le Dormeuse , do .

3. Le Repose Champétre , do.

4 Vue d’un pont ,

e

do .

Be er passant une riv i re, do.

La

”gtite Re do.

”57—60“

7 . La onne M re, do .

8 . La Marchande d’o iseaux, do.

9 . I . and I I . Vue de Fronv i l le, do .

10. Jupiter and Leda, do

1 1. Geo rge I I I . , King ofGreat Bri tain. Publi ed April 1762.

12. John Stua rt , 3rd Earl of Bute—after Al lan Ramsay. Published February1 67I3. George I I I . in State Robes—after A l lan Ramsay. Published 1767 .

14. George I I I . (bus t ).15. Queen Charlotte with infant (Princess Royal ) -after Cotes. Published 1769.

16 . D iogenes—afte r Salvator Rosa. Publ ished 177 1.17 . Antiochus and S tratonice—after P. da Co rtona. Published 17 72.

18 . General S tanwix’s Daughter—after Angel ica Kauffman (cal ledPens ive Muse Published in co lours 17 74.

19 . Hope—after A . Kauffman—(a port rai t of herse lf). Published in co lours,February 7 , 17 75.

20. A Lady in a Turkish Dress—after A. Kauffman. Oval in colours.Published May 1 , 17 75.

2 1. A Lady in a Greek Dress—( the Duchess of Richmond ) -after A. Kauflman.

Published November 20,17 75.

22. Narcissus . Drawn and engraved by Ryland . Publ ished January 12, 17 75.

23. Domestick Employment. D rawn and engraved by Ryland , in colours.Published September 13, 1775.

24 . Faith—after A. Kauffman . Published 17 76 .

25. Dormio Innocuus—after A. Kauffman. Circle in colours . Published May2 1 I 7 6.

O lim Truncus—after A . Kaufl'

man. Circle in colours and red. Published ,first s tate, Apri l 3 second state, May 1, 17 76 .

27 . Juno cestum a Venere Postu lat—after A. Kauffman. Circle in colours and

red. Publ ished January 1, 17 77 .

28 . Achil les lamenting the Death of his friend Pat roclus—after A. Kaufl'

man.

Published December 4 , 17 7 7 , in co lours and red.

29. Patience—after A. Kauffman. Published May 27 , 177 7 .

30. Perseverance—after A. Kauffman . Publ ished June 24, 177 7 .

3 1. Cu id Bound , with Nymphs breaking his Bow—afterPublishedMarch 17 , 17 7 7 .

32 . Telemachus returns to Penelope—after A . Kauffman, in co lours . PublishedDecembe r 4 , 17 77 .

33. Venus in her Triumphal Chariot—after A. Kaufl'

man,in colours and red.

Publ ished September 7 , 17 78.

34. Charles Rogers—mezzotint after S ir Joshua Reynolds . Published 1778.

35. Cleopatra decorating the Tomb of Mark Antony—after A. Kaufiman.

Publ ished March 25, 17 78 , in co lours .

36 . Telemachus at the Court of Sparta—after A. Kaufiman, in colours.Published 17 78.

37 . The Judgment of Paris—after A . Kauffman, in colours and red. PublishedJanuary 1 7 , 17 78 .

38 . Maria Moulins—after A. Kauffman. Published 17 79 , in colours and red.

39 . E loisa—after A . Kaufl'

man . Oval in colours and red. Published 1779 .

40. Bri tannia direc ting Paint ing, Sculpture and Arch itec ture to address themselvesto Royal Munifi cence , etc .

—after Cipriani,in colours and red. Published August

18.1779

4 1 . Marianne . D rawn and engraved by Ryland. In co lours and red. PublishedJanuary 3 , 1780 .



A S OP TO CERBERUS

THE CASE OF GOVERNOR WALL, 1 7 82- 1802

He wandered here, he wandered there,A fugi tive like Cain,

Andmourned, like him, in dark despairA b rother rashly slain.

”

-A Tale without a Name. JAMES MONTGOMERY.

ON the 26 th of August 1 782 , a captain in the army,named Joseph Wall , just come home from foreignserv ice, sat down to compose h is report to the Secretaryof S tate . A glance would tell that he was one of thosechosen by destiny to rule man and enslave woman.

Although the swift, hot courage of the Cel t shone in h isfearless eyes and slumbered in h is rough-hewn features

,

the beetl ing brow, resolute jaw, and fierce,mobil e mouth

were softened by the gentle mesmeric charm that marksal l of his race. I n stature he was a giant ; while hissweeping shoulders, which towered above the heads ofmost, the th ick, gnarled fingers and stalwart l imbs

,

i nd icated a mighty strength . For the rest, he was aclean-looking man, with l ight brown hair and a freshcomplexion . Yet the dul l grey l ines in his face toldthat the tropics had levied that tax upon his physiquewhich the Brit ish soldier is ever eager to pay.There was noth ing of moment in the officer’s report

to Secretary Townshend . I t was merely a rough


A SOP To CERBERUS 1 13

account of the term ination of his s tewardsh ip whileGovernor for eighteen months at the island of Goree.Mere chance had thrown this t iny sun-baked rock oncemore into the possession of Great B ri tain. Three years

preyioiisl’

yf’

the"

French fleet under de Vaudreu il, en

route to' i

tlie W est l ndies , sweeping down upon Senegal ,had seized the Engl i sh posts at Fort Lewis and FortJ ames . The victory of S i r Edward H ughes hadreversed the posit io’n . By the capture of the island ofGoree, which nestles south ofCape Verde scarcely threemiles from the mainland

,the approach to the enem ies’

settlements on the Opposite shore was placed in thehands ofEngland. Being a stat ion of some importancefor trading purposes

,owing to i ts proximity to two

great rivers of West Africa,a B ri tish garri son remained

there during the course of the war. Though deemedless unhealthy than the coast, i ts cl imate was deadly.

Not a mile in length,and scarcely more than a quarter

In breadth,the men had l itt le scope for exercise. All

ranks detested the place . The regiment was composedof the riff-raff of the army ; the officers were those whocould get no other appointment.J oseph Wal l was worthy of better things. Nature

had made him one of those soldiers of fortune whomhis nat ive land has sent forth unceasingly year by yearinto the armies of every country in the world. Aboutthe t ime of George III.

’

S accession he had flung asidethe rel igion of his fathers to obtain a commission

,and

two years later, at the age of twenty-fiv e, the youngI rishman saw his first fight in the West I ndies . H isfiery valour during the storming of Fort Moro gainedhim promotion

,and he returned home from H avannah

in 1 76 2 with the rank of captain . Fate, however,robbed h im of his bi rthright, for twelve years of wearypeace laid thei r rust upon his restless soul. Soon an

appointment under Company John took him to Bombay,

8

” 4 SOME DISTI NGU ISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

but opportuni ty never came to draw h is sword in a warof nations. At the close of h is residence in I ndia hereturned to h is father

’

s home , Abbeyleix , in Queen’s

County,a sad example of him whom fortune welcomes

with a smile and then turns away her face for ever.The keen spiri t that could find no outlet under arms wasil l fi tted for the c ivi l ian

’s l ife . J oseph Wall , the sold ierof fortune

,possessed none of the grace of humour which

might have softened h is red , untamable temper. Broilsinnumerable led to many a bloody duel , and on oneoccasion—so trad it ion relates—he crossed swords with‘ F ighti ng F i tzgerald .

’ Rumour credi ts him also withthe death of a fai thful friend , and ,

’t i s said , dux fernina

factz. I ndeed,several affairs of gal lantry stain h is

record,and once he was called upon to answer an insult

to a lady i n a court of justice.At last he sought act ive service once more . TheBri t ish colony that borders the river Gambia inNorth-West Africa offered h im employment

,and Fort

J ames, a stat ion on the estuary,became his home.

U nfortunately, Colonel Macnamara , the LieutenantGovernor, was a man of simi lar d ispos it ion to hi s youngofficer, and during August 1 7 7 6 the inevitable encountertook place. Wall, on the plea of i l l-health

,happening

to d isregard one of the orders of his superior, was castinto prison wi thout trial , and was immured for ninemonths . An action at law

,which appears to have been

heard during the year 1 7 7 9 , was the resul t, and thejury , who , guided by Lord Mansfield , held the opinionthat Colonel Macnamara had acted with unnecessaryseverity, ordered him to pay the sum of a thousandpounds to the Victim of his tyranny.

Previously, having returned to England , the I r ishmanhad become fortune-hunter, and cut a dash at Bath orHarrogate , search ing in vain for h is rich heiress . Sucha precarious existence could not endure

,and during the


I I6 SOME DISTI NGU ISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

to Open the flood-gates of a deluge . Lucky, i ndeed ,for humani ty that every man has not h is opportun ity.

Valour was not lack ing i n the British officers whofought at Lexington , at Bunker

’

s H i l l or Saratoga, buttheirs was no mate to the courage of those who didbattle against them beneath the shadow of the rope .

During the early years of the American War a hundredJ oseph Wal ls might have erected a forest of gibbetsand have made the colony a second Poland , but theUnited S tates never would have survived i ts birth . I tis far better as i t is . Truly, there were giants in thosedays—cruel

,untamable giants, but capable of super

human achievements and though from time to t ime wecast off their chains

,bidd ing them stalk through a world

of slaughter, yet, to the credit ofour race, the spiri t evenof that robust age kept them mostly i n thei r dungeonsof obscur i ty.

For only ten months did the I rish soldier of fortuneenjoy his retirement undisturbed . Dark rumours hadbeen whispered of his bloody régime in West Africa,and one Captain Roberts made grave accusations, of

which , however, a court-martial at the H orse Guardstook l i ttle heed—merely censuring the giant tenderlyin minor matters, as the beating of a sentry

,with a

humorous rider that the man got what he deserved .

They are tedious complaints, such as rise to the l ips of

the slack and spi teful when a strenuous commanderinsists upon a rattle of bones . I t was not unti l thetroopship W ellington brought home the remainder ofthe garrison of Goree—now ceded to the F rench—thata more substant ial charge was laid against the exGovernor . I n a few days the newspapers announcedthat the surgeon and a couple of officers

,who had

been examined before the Privy Council,had presented

a terrible i nd ictment of cruelty against thei r latecommander. Towards the end of February 1 7 84 , two

A SOP To CERBERUS 1 17

men set out for Bath to take Joseph Wal l into custody.

A l though distressed by the warrant, he submitted

qu ietly,merely asking that a lady friend should be

allowed to accompany h im to London . The ‘CastleI nn

,

’ Marlborough , was the first hal ting-place on thej ourney along the most famous of coach-roads

,and on

the I st of March , the next even ing, they rested at the oldBrown Bear ’ i n Reading. H ere Captain Wall protestedthat his custodians should not occupy the same bedroomas himself ; and to humour him , as ordinary mortals arein the habit of humouring a rest ive giant

,they agreed

to remain in an adjoin ing chamber. A drop to theground from a first-floor window was not the obstacleto deter the untamable soldier, and the next morningthe pol ice-officers found that their captive had van ished .

A reward of £200 was offered for his apprehension on

the 8th ofMarch, the day on which he is bel ieved to haveset foo t on F rench soi l . I t is understood that he wroteto a friend , stating he should surrender for trial as soonas the popular Glamour against h im had died away

,and

i t i s certain that he sent a letter contain ing a simi larpromise to Secretary Townshend, now Lord Sydney, onthe 15th of October of the same year. This intention

,

however, was not fulfi l led , and gradually the case of

Governor Wall , whose cruel ty had excited so muchindignat ion, faded from publ ic memory.

The cause of h is arrest was an incident that occurredon the eve of his departure from Goree in 1 7 82. For

some time the felon soldiers under h is command hadbeen muttering low growls of discontent. Short allowance had been their lot for a long period, and the feararose that the usual compensat ion would not be paid unlessthey rece ived i t before the Governor left the island . Onthe 10th of July preparations were hastened for Wal l

’sdeparture . All was bustle at the storekeeper

’

s office,where a servant was packing the commander’s luggage.

I I 8 SOME DISTINGU ISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

NO doubt i t was whispered among the men that thehome-bound vessel would carry a wealth of merchand ise

,

which by right should be left for the garrison . Early inthe morn ing the Governor observed a body of sold iers ,twenty or more

,march ing across the hot sand towards

his residence , where they had no right to intrude .

Though enraged at th is ev idence of i nsubord ination , bemerely gave an order that they should reti re. Twohours later

,a sti l l larger number was seen approaching

Government H ouse. Wall went out i nto the blaz ingtropical sunl ight to meet them . So determined werethey to vent thei r grievances that they d id not pauseto consider that th is act was flagrant mutiny . S i ncetheir commanding officer had forbidden a similar gathering

,the right course was to send a deputation to the

Governor, explain ing their demands through the prope rchannels .That Wal l cons idered the Situation was serious

,i s

proved by the fact that he temporised with the men,

dismissing them without any threat of serious punishment. I n later days he protested—which version wasendorsed by several eye-witnesses—that the conduct ofthe sold iers who spoke to h im was insolent and menacing

,

and that he induced them to disperse by a promise tocons ider the ir claims . At al l events, he came to nodecision unti l he had taken counsel with h is officers

,

whom he met,as usual , at the two o

’clock dinner. Themethods adopted Show that elaborate precautions weredeemed necessary in order to avo id a grave d isturbance .

Roll-call was sounded about an hour before the propertime

,and as the p ink flush of evening was steal ing

over the burn ing rock the sold iers assembled on parade .

U naware that repri sals were contemplated , the corpswas drawn up in a half-circle within the ramparts

,in the

centre ofwhich stood the Governor and his four availableofficers . As the men were fal l ing in , or perhaps a l i ttle


120 SOME DISTI NGU I SHED V ICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

Robinson , private—he charged them with d isorderlyconduct during the morning, and commanded his oflicers

to try them by drumhead court-martial . As the penaltyhad been decided previously, the proceedings were brief.After a few moments’ discussion the l i t tle tribunal ah

nounced the sentence—eight hundred lashes apiece for thetwo mutineers . A gun-carriage having been dragged forward

,the men in turn were ordered to strip . The mode

ofpunishment struck terror into every heart. No cat-o’

nine-tai ls could be found ; nor was i t thought safe totrust a white man with the flogging. When the V ict imwas bound to the cannon , one of the blacks was calledup

,a rope put into his hand, and he was ordered in

mil itary formula to “ do h is duty. After twenty-fiv elashes a new Operator took h is turn in the usual way.

During the whole t ime the garr ison surgeon looked on,but made no comment. A thousand strokes of the ‘ cat ’

was a common punishment in those D racon ic days, andi t seemed immaterial whether the flagellation was iaflicted with a bunch of knotted leathern thongs or wi th arope’s-end . When at last the long agony was over, thetwo poor soldiers were taken to nurse their bruised andswollen backs in the hospi tal .On the following morning, the 1 1 th of July, the bloody

work was continued . D rast ic Wall thought fi t to leavean imperishable record ofh is mode ofgovernment . Be

neath the flaming blue sky the sold iers were marshal ledupon the parade ground once more, and four of theirnumber were selected for punishment in the same informal manner. George Paterson , the guard-room rebel ,was sentenced to eight hundred lashes Corporal ThomasUpton , a ringleader of the deputation , and PrivateWill iam Evans

,were condemned to receive three

hundred and fifty and eight hundred strokes respec

tiv ely ; while H enry Fawcett,the drunken sentry, was

let off with forty-seven . H aving thus v indicated his

A SOP TO CERBERUS 12 1

authority, the terrible Governor proceeded to h is sh ip,which , to the great j oy of the awestruck garrison

,

weighed anchor the same day.

Soon after h is departure the drama became a tragedy .

A poisonous cl imate and scanty rations had underminedthe physique of the sold iers ; besides which , the sicklyseason was at hand . The ignorance of the medicalattendants was supplemented by an immoderate use of

brandy. S ince the first occupat ion of the island , menhad dropped l ike fl ies

,while to the S ick and wounded a

visi t to the hosp ital was almost equivalent to a sentenceofdeath. Corporal Thomas Upton died two days afterh i s punishment Sergeant Armstrong succumbed on the15th of the month George Paterson only survived unti lthe 19 th of J uly. Meanwhi le, J oseph Wall , on the h ighseas

,knew none of these things .

Cruel , wanton , reckless as was the deed of theGovernor of Goree, such things were of everydayoccurrence in the army of h is t ime. S ir Charles Napierhas left record of the merci less floggings ofwhich he wasan eye-witness a decade later . Forty years after thePeace ofVersailles a court-martial had no hesitat ion inpassing a sentence of a thousand lashes. Although therope’s-end employed i n the punishment of Armstrongand h is fellows was probably a more formidable instrument than the regimental ‘ cat,

’ i t was no more dangerousthan the bunch of knotted cords used in the navy . Asocial system that permitted women and ch ildren to behanged for petty larceny had a Spartan code for i tssoldiers on act ive service.Moreover, any lack offirmness on the part of J oseph

Wall might have brought h im face to face with a seriousmutiny. Riot was the sole means of expression of theinarticulate mob ,

both civ i l and m il i tary. A few monthsafter the disturbance at Goree , General Conway,Governor of J ersey

,was called upon to quel l a fierce


rebel l ion among his troops . About the same time wildinsubord ination was rife in the regiments quartered atWakefield and Rotherham . The danger Ofa simi lar outbreak in a far-ofl

'

i sland,garrisoned for the most part

by gaol-birds, and close to the F rench possessions, wasmultipl ied a hundredfold . Severe as were the methodsof Wall

,had such a man been in command at the Nore

the nation would have been spared the terror and ignominy of ‘Admiral ’ Parker. U nfortunately for h imself,the discipl ine of the I rish giant was exerted to punish apersonal affront . H ad his soldiers refused to cheer thebirthday of some German princel ing, he migh t haveflogged to death a whole company with impun ity. Yet,relatively, the ways and means of inflammable Wall weretame . On the 4th of August 1 7 82 , Captain KennethMackenzie

,who ruled over a Simi lar regiment ofconvicts

at Fort Morea on the coast of Africa, blew to atoms amutinous fel low-Scot

,a private under h is command , from

the mouth of a cannon . For th is deed,being brought to

trial two years later,he was condemned to dea th , but

subsequently granted a free pardon. At the time of h isescape from the ‘ Brown Bear ’ at Reading

,there were

rumours (50 Wall al leges ) that the Governor of Goreehad put to death sold iers in Mackenz ie fash ion . I nwhich case he bore the stigma of another’s s in .

For twenty years after his fl ight from EnglandJoseph Wal l remained a fugitive from justice

,being an

exi le for the greater proportion of the t ime . Pari swas h is principal abode

,where he was able to meet many

compatriots,who held commiss ions in the F rench army.

Yet , although poor and in disgrace, he was never temptedto swerve from his allegiance to h is king . To havejo ined the colours ofF rance would have raised him fromcomparative poverty to affluence

,but he kept loyal,

treasuring the hope that some day he would be able toreturn to h is country a free man . There is evidence of



face of his fl ight from justice,could give h im only cold

comfort. H owever,J oseph Wal l was not the man to

Shi rk risk in pursuit of a definite object . On the sth ofOctober 180 1 he sent a letter to Lord Pelham ,

SecretaryofS tate, announc ing his presence in England ; while onthe 2nd of N ovember he appeared before the PrivyCounci l , and was committed to Newgate.The Special Commission appointed to judge the case of

Governor Wall met on the 2oth of J anuary 1802. Atnine o’clock in the morn ing the Court assembled in all themajesty ofa S tate trial . I ts president was S i r Arch ibaldMacdonald , Chief Baron of the Exchequer, a po l i t icalS cot who, l ike many of his betters , owed his posit ionto a wife. S i r G i les Rooke of Common Pleas, and S i rS oulden Lawrence of King’s Bench , two merciful andkind-hearted judges, sat on ei ther S ide to give ass istance.N ever was there a more formidable array of counselfor the Crown . G rim and spiteful Attorney-GeneralEdward Law the urbane and much-underrated SpencerPerceval

,Sol ici tor-General ; Thomas Plumer, George

Wood,and Charles Abbott

,al l three destined to hold

dist ingu ished posit ions on the Bench ; and lastly, Will iamF ield ing, who , l ike his more famous father, became aLondon magistrate. Nor were the three barristers forthe defence less i l lustrious : N ewman Knowlys wasappointed Recorder of London ; J ohn Gurney, one ofthe greatest of criminal advocates

,rose to be a judge ;

and Alley, defender number three, was as astute alawyer as any of the rest.No shudder of sympathy sweeps through the crowded

court as the figure of the crimson giant passes into thedock . Outside swell the low growls ofa gutter-wallowingmob ; within , every heart cries aloud for vengeanceupon the grim tyrant . J oseph Wall faces h is accusers ,as he faced al l enemies

,with fearless eyes and undaunted

soul . F rom the firm,martial tread and high

,unbent

A SOP To CERBERUS 125

brow, none would judge that th is is an old man, whohas l ived for sixty-fiv e years . At the close of theindictment the voice of the prisoner rings through thecourt, to the surprise of al l .

“ My lord, he exclaims,“ I cannot hear in this

place. I hope your lordsh ip wil l permit me to S it nearmy counsel .”

I t i s perfectly impossible,stammers the scandal ised

scion ofthe Lords of the I sles . “ There i s a regular placeappointed by law . I can make no invidious distinction .

”

Jaundice-souled Law Opens the attack in most persuasive cut-throat manner, compelled to be fair in spiteof his Opportun ity by reason of instinct ive tolerance forall savouring of bloodthirsty tyranny . Pinn ing thejury down to the first indictment, he bids them thinkonly of the fustigation ofArmstrong.

“ Can the prisonerprove a mutiny ?” i s Law

’

s reiterated demand . Youcannot flay soldiers al ive , unless they deserve i t !Law-logic i s a marvel lous thing .

“Wall left i slandday after flogging,

” i t pers ists ; ergo, no mutiny. Thejury suck in th is eloquence open-mouthed—visionsof neatly -plaited halters hover before the ir retinas .“ Governors never turn their backs directly mutiny isquel led

,

” argues Law,and the myriad black-and-white

sprites,who

,i nvis ible and in si lence, weave thei r

gossamer threads ofpassion into the webs of poor humannature

,hear and tremble. Yet their handicraft stil l

sparkles with the hues of I ris, for not even B ri tish lawgiver can paint the spiri ts of the soul in the dull selfcolour ofhis own dreary brain . Generals never deserttheir beaten army

,

” we can hear Law thunder at J udges’

dinner ten years later ;“ Napoleon is st i l l wi th his troops

on the Beresina ' Wonderful logic, wonderful Law !Pity

,for the sake ofcocksuredom , that hearts do not beat

as he bade them .

Prisoner did not report th is rope’s-end business to

126 SOME D I STI NGU ISHED V ICTIMS OP THE SCAFFOLD

Secretary Townshend , cries the logician .

“Why not ?

Because mutiny plea was an after-thought to cloak hiscrime .

”One wonders of what fash ion were the accounts

of his stewardship , i f any, that th is stalwart pil lar ofChurch and S tate made in daily confession to h is God.

D id he omit naught ? O r d id he report al l c ruel lashesfor which he had given sentence

,and did he speak of his

savage opposi tion to a change ofthe bloody code ? K indforgetfulness given by Providence to those who need i tmost ' “ Prisoner did not report flogging, because he didnot know the man was dead .

” J ury mouths Open widerupon th is marvellous Law , for reason whispers i n theirears

,

“ Then prisoner did not intend that the man shouldd ie. ” But reason is dinned out of thei r tradesmenpates . “ After-thought—after-thought !” clangs dingdong Law , and echo comes to the true and bewilderedtwelve : “ Away with h im to the gallows !”

F i rst witness appears—Evan Lewis—Cambrian breda race of man for the most part having no mean, superlative

,or unspeakable . Lewis was, or says he was

,

orderly sergeant on the day of the Goree flagellation ;now he is Bow S treet runner, brave in scarlet waistcoat.No mutiny ! declares th is Lewis . “ Men were as goodas gold . They couldn

’t have been bad if they’d tried.

”

Perceval gently leads the wi tness along, and much iscommunicated . F logged to death without trial —Suchi s the meaning ofTaffy

’s testimony. I n due course,other

soldiers of the prec ious garrison follow- one , two, three,four

, fiv e—and the parrot cry, No mutiny,” smites the

ears of the tradesmen in the jury-box . The Scotch l ipof the Lord-of-I sles grows more attenuated , and he seesthe man in the dock crowned with halo ofcrimson . H i sbusy penci l scribbles notes for the edification—at theproper t ime—Of the luckless twelve men , good and true.Witnesses each say different th ings ,

” writes Caledonianpenc il . “ But what else can you expect ? The thing


I 2S SOME DISTI NGU ISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

orders . Corollary , note by Scotch penc il—if there wasbrandy-drinking, the treatment was unski lful , and prisonermust answer for the leech-folly. Query Why didn’tFerrick stop the flogging ? ” Great wrangl ing amongcounsel on account of th is same query.

“ Improperquestion—the twelve honest tradesmen must not beprejud iced against the man i n the dock .

” S ti ll,i nnuendo

remains : i.e. leech-Ferrick did not interfere,because he

was afraid ofWall ! The Scotch l ip lengthens , and itsowner pats the t imid leech on the back approvingly.

What a grim , bloodth i rsty tyrant, this Governor Wall !th ink the honest twelve . Leech-Ferrick steps down

,

proud and satisfied that Caledonian penci l has wrote himdown an ass . To hang W al l is all he cares . Better al ive donkey than a dead giant . Going home, he comesto the bad end of many fools—he writes a letter, which isprinted by The Times .

Then the tyrant is cal led upon for h is defence . I t iss imple and straightforward , for he knows noth ing ofLaw-logic . “ The sold iers were turbulent ; Armstrongwas disobedient ; every cat-o

’-n ine-tai ls was destroyed

,

so he d id the thrash ing with a I Ope ; he had no intentionof ki ll ing the man , who might not have died but forbrandy-soaking in hospital ; he ran away from Readingtwenty years ago, because the mob was howl ing for h isblood , bel ieving that he , l ike Kenneth Mackenzie, hadblown men from cannons . N .B .

—The red sold ier musthave remembered how successful ly the ’

57 mob hadhowled for the death ofkid-gloved Byng.

Witnesses for the crimson tyrant follow—a poor lot.Number one ,

minc ing Mrs Lacy, wife of late second incommand at Goree . This lady gets angry wi th magnificent Law, to the great scandal isation of the Lord ofI sles , and tries to put everyone right, for they are al lwrong. Contradictions annoy the Court . When therehas been plain sail ing— though close to the wind

,no

A SOP To CERBERUS 129

matter—it is annoying to think out new and perplexingtracks. “Welshman Lewis was not orderly-sergeant

,

persists Mrs Lacy.

“ The deputat ion to the Governorwas eighty strong. H er husband’s brain was turned bythe sun in 1 7 84, so he would have been no use as witnessto the arrested Governor. All th is borders on thesuperfluous, shocking the Chief Baron, upon whom thehonest twelve glue their round and honest eyes. Thesold iers threatened the Governor—upon my oath, theydid,

” vociferates Mrs Lacy, while the Lord-of-I sles,no doubt, thinks sadly of another such shril l voice thatassai ls h is ears at home. Then magnificent Lawa naughty Attorney -General now—pl ies witness withsearch ing questions about sol itary vis its to imprisonedgiant, here in O ld Bai ley and though the mil itary widowmakes wrathfu l repudiat ion, th is th in-ice skat ing exhi

bition s inks deep into the pious souls of the virtuoustwelve . A wicked profligate also, th ink they, i s th iscruel red I rishman !Mary Faulkner, gunner

’s wi fe, comes next, and sayssimilar th ings, and more ; She even heard the mendiscuss the kill ing of Governor Wall . H er husband

,

gunner Faulkner,corroborates . Agrees wi th the two

last that Armstrong was mutinous and threatening.

Admits,however, he had l i ttle trial . G reat exc itement

among Crown counsel,and learned Plumer presses the

'

point. “ Very l i ttle tr ial ” i s the conclus ion sought,and Caledonian penci l records it. No matter that consistent Law has laid i t down that if there was a mut inyhe wi l l not press for proof of elaborate court-martial . Aprisoner’s witness has scored a point for the other side,and they record it Scarcely any trial at al l.What matters the rest, while the prim Scotsman

,

i n full-bottomed wig, brandishes h is penci l ! PeterWil l iams

,soldier

,endorses al l said by women Lacy and

Faulkner,but clever Plumer shows him up

,on the word

9

I 3O SOME DISTI NGU ISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

of an officer, as “ a lying, shufiiing fel low. PrivateCharles Timbs swears that cats were al l destroyed by themen

,but no one heeds h im . Deputy-Advocate O ld

’

haminstructs the tri bunal that drum-head court-mart ials arenever reported to Government Department Thus, whyshould Wal l report h is smal l explosion to SecretaryTownshend , why But what does th is s ign ify in faceofwhat Law had laid down Never mind trial ! Canprisoner prove the mutiny ? ” No need to press DeputyO ldham , for there is no chance of scoring anotherpoint at the expense of prisoner’s witness .Then arrives the great and proper t ime . The pencil

has done i ts work, and Caledon ian tongue now speaks ,and Caledonian l ip , having arrived at ful l tension ,trembles . Important comments are del ivered—a generalripping-up of the Wall witnesses . Chief Baron readsthe report to Secretary Townshend, and adds footnoteNO mention of mutiny ”—suspicious . Again : “ Twoofficers returned from Goree at same time as theGovernor. This ,

” he echoes Law-logic , “ does notindicate existence of mutiny. Further : “ Prisonermade his escape when al l witnesses who could prove hisinnocence were al ive — sti l l more suspicious . Twelvegood and honest brows grow st i l l darker and morevengeful . The rope-ending is contrasted with thebi rch ing ofchildren ; marvel lous paral lel—as though thematernal heart bore resemblance to the provisions of

Mutiny Acts ! Back-slapping of leech-Ferrick is longand loud.

“ Be careful not to hurt a toss-pot, declaresthe Lord-of-I sles , “ for if he drinks himself to death, youare his murderer !” Wonderful Caledonian penc il thati s able to out-logic wonderfu l Law.

I t is ten o’clock at n ight. For thirteen hours theunfortunate twelve have been box-fast . With in twelvehonest waistcoats l ies a dull and ach ing vacuum . TheLaws , Plumers , and Lords-of-I sles have s imilar sensa


[32 SOME DISTI NGU I SHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

far as to send down another respite to N ewgate onSunday eve . Wal l’s hanging-day is now settled forThursday

,the 28th ofJ anuary, and the Monday morn ing

mob of gallows-birds howls fiercely when discovery ismade that i t has been baulked of i ts prey for a few dozenof hours ; which same howls , penetrating in min isterialmind ’s-ear to the purl ieus of Whitehal l , set m in isterialhearts palpitating with apprehension . For the P ilotwho weathered the S torm no longer has a home inDowning S treet

,and the hearts of min isterial successors

lack tissue .

Not al l the wealth ofwoman’s tears can move authori ty

to greater mercy on behalf of the red giant. The smugand closet-petted doctor

,who cares naught for mil i tary

matters , i s bent on h is F rench peace in spi te ofal l thatpatron Pi tt may say, and it seems a smal l matter to hanga mob-detested officer. “ Sold iers a drug

'

i n the market—we are going to be friends with the good Buonaparte,

”

th ink Farmer George and h is Counci l when they confabulate on Wednesday afternoon . The Caledonianpenci l-notes are consulted

,and cobwebs gather fast

around the bewi ldered royal brain . K ingly thoughtsdwel l lovingly upon the royal prerogative of the gallows—a truly Engl ish past ime

,worthy of a Brit ish prince

whose blood has run itsel f clear of all H anoverian co

:igulations . Chancel lor E ldon,being interrogated

,finds

his load of learned lumber i l l-digested for the moment,and doubts, and doubts, and doubts . Then some braveand discreet statesman—obl iv ion shrouds h is i llustriousname—mentions the mutineers of the F ighting Téméraire,

’

a dozen or so of whom a few days before hadornamented the yard-arms at Spithead

,and King and

Counci l ponder deeply. Newgate howls have beenominous, N ewgate cries have been eloquent, and thetime-honoured platitude , One law for rich

,another law

for poor,” has often ended in window—sometimes royal

A SOP TO CERBERUS 133

window—smashing. Mercy seems a great r isk,far greater

because of the ‘Téméraire ’ yard-arm business than theunpopular pardon ofKenneth Mackenzie. On the otherside there is the al luring picture of the great triumph ofBrit ish equity the balance ofj ust ice—‘Téméraire ' rebels

”

hanging on one s ide of the scale, and mob-hated J osephWall on the other. “ Foreign . nations please observeand c0py !

” A notable triumph for an English-bornGerman prince. Like the peace that was to be, i tseemed an experiment worth the while . Farmer Georgeand Doctor H enry prove to have most forcible wi l lpower in the Counci l , and when his Gracious Majestyposts off to Windsor at five o’clock, to drink tea w ithhis Princesses, the Governor of Goree has been left forexecution .

I n the condemned cel l that same evening the devotedwife and husband hope sti l l for the reprieve that nevercomes . Keeper K irby has promised the grief-strickenwoman that she shal l remain in the gaol t i l l the lastposs ible moment, and while the clock slowly beats i tsmarch to the hour of eleven the heart-rending tragedyunfolds its agonies .

“ God bless you , my dear, cries the giant in theirlast embrace. “ Take care of the chi ldren . Let themth ink as wel l

“

of me as you can .

”

Then,while the Governor of the prison escorts the

poor lady along the cold, dark corr idors, she sobs forthher one piteous question for the hundredth t ime

I s there no hope ?”

Madam, I trust your wishes may be fulfi l led,repl ies K irby. But it is now a late hour, and I haverece ived no orders.”

S ister Howard, who also has borne th is terrible vigi l ,supports the fainting woman from the portals of thecharnel-house

,and thei r carriage rumbles away over

the stones of O ld Bai ley. Even these loving friends


have fai led h im,and the red giant must bear his last

d ismal j ourney alone . Two turnkeys watch over him ,

lest he may do himself inju ry, for he wears no fetters .I t i s a long night,

”

he exclaims about two o’clock ,

as he tosses weari ly upon his couch .

S t i l l,his voice is strong and resonant with i ts mil i ta ry

ring,though his mighty form has sunk beneath a weight

of torture into a mere gaunt framework of bones .Bread-and-water has been his diet si nce the sentence

,

and Sheriff Cox, although assiduous in h is vis i ts to theunhappy man , wil l not relax h is stern rules . I n a l i ttl ewhile

,as if he looked for sleep

,he asks whether the

scaffold wil l make a noise when it is dragged out i nto thestreet. With compassionate l ie , they answer that i t wi l lnot

,but his thoughts dwel l morbidly upon his destiny.

“ I most earnestly request,” he tel ls h is attendants

,

that I may not be pulled by the heels when I amsuffering.

”

They attempt to appease him by the promise thati t shal l be done as he wishes, but he has seen hangingsin plenty , and he knows what may happen .

I hope that the fatal cord mayfibe placed properly

,

he persists,

“ and that I may be al lowed to depart asfairly and easi ly as my sentence will al low .

At last he fal ls asleep, and when the huge woodenmachine lumbers between the pri son doors with a soundthat reverberates through the whole building

,he is

unconscious of what has happened . Also, i t i s notrecorded that he heard the dread chaunt of the bel lman outside in the O ld Bailey

You that in the condemned hole do lie,P repare you, for to-morrow you shal l dieWatch all, and pray, the hour is drawing near

,

That you before the Almigh tymust appear .”

About half-past five he awakes with a start as amai l-coach rumbles along N ewgate S treet.


136 SOME DISTI NGU ISHED VICTIMS or THE SCAFFOLD

shower of sparks up the wide ch imney, and a shovelfulof coals is thrown upon the burning mass . D eath

’

spierc ing gl i tter flashes from the eyes of the dying manwhile h is brain paints pictures in the flames . Then hiS '

l ips move slowlyAy, i n an hour that wi l l be a blaz i ng fire .

Ay, and you are thinking that in an hour, you poor,red

,untamable giant wil l have fin ished your long torture ,

and be lying cold and stil l—while that fi re blazes merrily.In an hour one loving, great-hearted woman w il l haveentered upon the agony-penance that she must endureto the grave. I n an hour your l ittl e ones will bechildren of a father upon whom his country has searedthe brand of i nfamy—and these green twigs wil l havebecome a blaz ing fire ! Sad—yea, saddest ofwords thatcould fal l from human l ips !Then the demon ofsuspense torments the poor giantonce again, and he turns to the O rd inary appeal ingly

Do tel l me, si r—I am informed that I shal l go downwith great force i s that so ? ”

Ordinary’s thoughts cease for a moment to dwel llovingly upon h is breakfast-gorge with the Sheriff— theepi logue to every hanging—and professional pride swel lshis portly soul . With reverent unction he explains themachinery of the gal lows, speaking of ‘ nooses and

knots’

with al l the mastery of expert,for jim Botting

and his second fiddle ‘O ld Cheese ’ are no betterhandicraftsmen than O rdinary hangman Forde. Presently he in h is turn grows curious.

“ Colonel Wall ,” he inquires, “ what kind of men were

those under you at Goree ?”

The haunt ing glance of death-shame fades from thepierc ing eyes , and through the portholes of his soul thereflashes the l iving spi ri t of defiance .

“ S i r, he cries , “ they sent me the very riff-raffSuddenly the reverend Ord inary bethinks h imself of

A 50? TO CERBERUS x37

his holy office, and plunges headlong into prayer ; acontrast that must compel the tear of record ing angel—smoke-reeking, unctuous, ale-fed Forde and contri te ,half-starved

,but invinc ible giant . Sheriff Cox and his

myrmidons enter as the clock is strik ing eight . A lookof eagerness passes over the cadaverous l ineaments, agaunt figure steps forward

,and a firm

,hol low voice

murmurs :I attend you, s i r.Although his head is bowed, his tread is that of the

soldier on parade as they pass out i nto the keen winterair. A crowd of felons, destined soon for the gallows,i s huddled in groups

,here and there, within their court

yard den, and as the procession passes through thequadrangle they hurl forth curses of hel l against theman who is marching to his death . The giant head fal lslower, and the martial tread beats faster. “ The clockhas struck, he cries , as he quickens h is step . Thereis a halt i n another chamber beyond the Press Yard .

An ingenious law-torment is demanded—the Sheriff’sreceipt for a l iving corpse. A legal wrangle fol lows ;the red giant’s body is not described in good set terms,and there i s much quil l-scratch ing

,while the giant gazes

calmly. Then the march is resumed down the loathsomepassages, and the soul of Greatheart warms as etern itydraws nearer .I n another moment, the most wondrous prospect of

h is l ife opens before his eyes . H igh upon the stage,with back turned to the towering wall

,as befits a soldier

,

his vis ion ranges over a tossing sea of savage faces , ahuman torrent that fi l ls the wide estuary, surging ful land fierce to the l imits of i ts boundaries . Then am ighty tumult rises from the depths of the l iving whirlp ool , the exultant roar ofa myriad demons thirsting forblood . At last the giant l imbs tremble, as the shoutsswel l fiercer and louder sti l l—three distinct terrific huzzas

138 SOME D ISTI NGUISHED VICTIMS or THE SCAFFOLD

—unmistakable to trained ears ; they come from theangry throats of a thousand Bri t i sh sold iers , the fiercewar-c ry learnt from the cruel Cossack long ago . Thered tyrant is del ivered to the mob at las t . Some sayi t is the shout of punters del ighted to have won the irbets

,and loudly press the strange apology ; but reason,

giving preference to comparative methods, cal ls to mindthe savage exultation that hailed the atonement of skipperLowry and Mother B rownrigg, of Burke and Palmer,and muses thoughtful ly upon th is balance ofj ust ice .

The gnarled,bony fingers of the red giant grasp the

hand of Sheriff Cox,while the foul-odoured beast fumbles

with the halter around h is neck,withdrawing the noose

and sl ipping it once more over his head . The victimturns to the plump O rdinary with a last request

“ I do not wish to be pulled by the heels . ”

The priest deftly draws the cap over the gleaming,shrivelled face

,and mumbles from his book No

clanging bell disturbs the peace of the sufferer, for heis a murderer, and th is blessed torture is not for thoseofhis class . The bareheaded crowd gazes with raptureupon the wooden scaffold

,shorn of its appall ing garb of

black—another mercy vouchsafed to him who dies gu i l tyof a brother’s blood . Suddenly there is a secondmighty shout of triumph . The rope hangs plumpbetween the two posts

,and the tall

,gaunt form is

swaying in empty ai r. I n another moment there arecries of horror, but of horror mingled with applause.The noose has formed an even col lar around the giant’sneck , while the knot has sl ipped to the back of his head ,which is sti l l upright and unbent. H orrible convuls ionsseize the huge , struggl ing frame. I t is a terrific scene—most glorious spectacle of suffering that a del ightedcrowd has ever gazed upon—J ack Ketch has bungled !Minutes pass , and sti l l the hanging man battles fiercelyfor breath . Minutes pass , and not a hand is stretched


I4O SOME DISTI NGU ISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

to the bl ind eye at Copenhagen . One untamable hero,

armed merely with a crimson rope, faces a hundred cutthroats, and, within view Of the ramparts of the enemy,cows them into l icking his shoes

,declaring that an

insult to h imself is an insul t to h is K ing . T ruly aDavid and Gol iath picture

“Wrong,cry Farmer George and Doctor H enry,

glancing timidly, as with mystical prescience, down thev i sta of ages to Board School days, and quaking atswish of cat and clank of triangles , gui lty of as deepanachronism as he who hurled a shel l at the tomb of theMahdi , to the great disturbance of bread-and-milknerves. For birch twigs and cat—essential forerunnersof S tandards S ix—had much Peninsular and Waterloowork in front of them

,and it was just as easy to chain

red giants as to hang them .

Wrong, cry Farmer Merciful and Doctor J ustice,busy wi th kn ife and steel

,getting ready a keen edge

for the grey, gal lant head of poor crazy Despard,and

eager to paste the town with balance of j ustice placardsTéméraire ’ insubordinates

,and red giant of Goree

—both hanged . Let foreign nations please copy.

” And ,doubtless, a burst of inordinate Gall ic laughter hailedthisjeu d

’

esfi rz’

t, for Gal l ic neighbours had other things

for the encouragement of red giants —a field-marshal’

sbaton and the l ike .

There is no place for the mus ings of modern milksop .

The deeds of the parents of h is grandfather are for himmerely a tale that is told

,and as he closes the fami ly

record his bread-and-milk soul must only give thanksthat h is lot i s cast i n more pleasant places. Modern eyecan but discern the red giants of a bygone worldthrough a glass darkly . Cruel , crimson , unscrupulous—they were al l that : ch i ldren of murkiness even aswe are ch i ldren of l ight

,and thus let comparison end .

One hundred years—as great a barrier as a mil l ion

A SOP TO CERBERUS I4 I

miles of ether—has divided our ages, et nos mutamm'.

A thousand penc il s —Saxon and Caledon ian—havebanished with Dunciad scorn the birchen wand thatused to betwig merri ly the tender fifteen-year-old flesh ofribald lad and saucy maiden . Triangle and cat, rope

’

send and grat ing, ceased years ago to terrify the hearts

of rol l ing Jack and swaggering Tommy. Good M rFairchi ld no longer takes litttle H arry and l i ttle Emilyto view the carrion Of the gibbet, exemp/igm tici

’

, for themodern Mr Fairchild does not remember that suchinstruments ever had their proper places i n the land .

Red giants,too—only to be let loose when occasion

required—had their proper places in the good old t imesofbirch-rod and gibbet, of Farmer George and DoctorH enry

,who found much use for them in the taming

of the Cors ican ogre . Modern milksop, however, willscarcely concede that such t imes were good

, or, at least,most wrong when incons istent ! Be that as i t may

,the

cat and rope’s-end of the crimson giant were a portionof Britain’s bulwarks, i n spi te Of i nconsistent headshakings of Farmer George and Doctor H enry

, of

Brother Bragge and Brother H i ley—all of which,

fortunately, i s as repuls ive to the soul ofmodern m ilksopas the dice and women of Charles Fox, or the twobottle thirst Of the Pi lot who weathered the S torm .

Lucky,perhaps, for bread-and-milk gentleman that he

had fathers before h im .

No other case bears the same resemblance to thatof J oseph Wal l as the incident of Kenneth Mackenzieand h is cannon -ball execution . Some

,i ndeed

,have

a certain affin ity, and exhibit the national conscienceoverwhelmed by periodical fi ts of moral i ty—a hystericalturn ing-over ofnew leaves . A few days before the redgiant of Goree passed through the debtor’s door

,S i r

Edward H amilton Of the ‘Trent’

fr igate was dismissedfrom the navy for an act of cruel tyranny

,only to be

I42 SOME DISTI NGU ISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

reinstated in a few months . Thomas Picton,England’s

“ bravest Of the brave ,”

was shaken by the same waveof humanity. Yet

,after all , the gu i l t Of the Admi ral or

the innocence of the hero of Waterloo were of l i ttlemoment to a nation that continued to mut ilate i tsenemies in the fashion Of a dervish of the desert

,under

the sacred name of high treason . For, years later, thebloody heads of Brandreth and Thistlewood stained anEngl ish scaffold . Luckily for the ir Oppressors

,the

v ict ims of H amilton and Picton—Officers who did notstand in the desperate posit ion of the Governor of

Goree—survived thei r punishments , not having a leechFerrick to reckon with , else Farmer George andDoctor H enry

,i n the face of those dangl ing ‘ Téméraire ’

seamen,would have been in an awkward di lemma .

The case of George Robert F i tzgerald , often heldforth as a paralle l by contemporary pressmen

,has l itt le

similari ty to that OfWall . Both belonged to the 69 thFoot , they were antagonists in a Galway duel in

’

69 ,

and both ended thei r days on the scaffold ; but herecomparison ends . The retribut ion that overtook‘ F ighting F i tzgerald ’ at Castlebar was the fi ttingpenalty of a vendetta murder, brutal and premedita ted,and wrought without a semblance of authori ty.

F i fty years before the death of J oseph Wal l,the

London mob was able to indulge i ts fury in l ike fash ionagainst another black-beast Of i ts own choos ing

,one

J ames Lowry,skipper of the merchant ship ‘ Molly

,

’

compared to whom the Governor of Goree appears tohave been a mild and merciful commander. At different t imes

,three sailors expired beneath the terrible

floggings of Captain Lowry , who was wont to salutehis dying vict im with the cry , “ H e is only shammingAbraham . And as the cruel seaman was carried inthe cart to Execution Dock , the furious mob howledforth this ghastly catchword

,j ust as they saluted Wall


B I BL IOGRAPHY OF THE WALL CASE

I . CONTEMPORARY TRACTS

. An Aulhentie Narrative ofjoseph W all E .tor . By a Mi litary Gentleman.J .Roach , Britannia Prin ting Oflice. Russe l l Court , Drury Lane B rit .

o

Mus.Except in the tract published by A. Young—a transparent

(i31

3there is no corroborat ion of the statement that W al l flogged tonamed Paterson on the voyage out to Goree . As no reference 15 made In an

“

;contempo rary newspapers , it seems probable that the ‘Military Gentleman ’

hasconfused his materials . George Paterson, a so ldie r, received eight hundred lashesthe dayafter the pun ishment ofArmstrorig, and died soon afterwards

,which mayhave caused the mis take . I f W al l had done another such in 1780, it Is

probable that i t would have obtained greater publicity.2 . The Life, Trial and Execution of oseph W all E rgre. By a Gentleman.

A . Young,Vera S tree t , Clare Market ( I802 Bri t. Mus.

3. The Trial a! Large ofjoreph W all E rqre. Also an Account of his escape inI 7S4. John Fairbum , x46 Minories.

4 . The Tr zal of Lieul. Col. oseph W all. Taken in shorthand by Messrs

Blanchard and Ramsey . London I802 ) . Bri t. Mus.

. Life, Trial and Execution ofjoseph W all Erore. (with a ful l length portrait ).E . wrence , C. Chapple, and H . D. Symonds .

This tract is advertised In the lilorn ing Chronicle, February 9 , I 8OZ .6 . The Trial of Governor lVall. W i th part icula rs of his escape at

I 7SA and his subsequent surrender in 1802 . Fred Farrah,282 S trand, (The

Edi tion Extant) . Bri t. Mus . Copied from ea rl ier accounts.

II . CONTEMPORARY NEW S PAPERS AND MAGAZ INES

I . The Publre Advertiser, March 1784.

2 . The Gazetteer and New Advertigr, August I4, I 7S3, andMarch I 784.

3. The General E vening Post, March I 7S4.

4 . do.

5. do.

6 . The London Gazette, March 9 , 1784.7 . The Tinter, March I 7S4, January 1802.

8. film ing Port, July 2 I and Augus t 12 and I 3, I 7S3, March 1784, January I SOQ .

9. Morning Chronicle, March I 7 84, January 1802.

I0. do.

I I . S ljamer’Chronicle, do. do.

I 2 . Lloyd”: E vening Port, do.

I 3. The True B riton and Porrupzne , do.

I 4. do.

B IBLIOGRAPHY OF THE W ALL CASE 145

In the Morning Post ofAugust 13, 1783, there appears the re rt of thecourt-martial held at the Horse Guards on July 7 and fo l lowing ays, whichracticallyacquitted W al l of the charges brought against him by Captain Roberts .

he Gazette of March 9 , 1784, contains the King’s Proclamation, datedMarch 8

,describing the personal appearance of the escaped prisoner, and

offering a reward ofz;200 for his apprehens ion. To those who consult contemporary journals for a fi rst t ime there will come a surprise, for they wil l learnthat Governor W al l on July 10 and I I , 17 82, flogged to death not one man butthree. No account later than the Espriel la Papers, and not one of the manyNewgate Calendars , gives th is information. Surgeon Ferrick’s letter appearedin The Times, February 5, 1802.

15. The Gentleman ’s Magazine part i. p. 227 part i. p . 81.

The January number, 1802, endorses the statement tha t Augustine W al l,

the brother of the Governor p f Goree, was “ th e first person, who presumed topublish Parl iamentary Reports with the rea l names of the speakers refixed.

”

Th is ev idence is important , as Sylvanus U rban migh t have grudge such an

admission. His own claims , however, are set forth very modestly. “ D r

{fhnston (in our magazine) dressed them (i.e. the speakers in Parl iament) inoman characters. Others gave them as orators in the senate of Li ll iput. Mr

W al l laid the foundation ofa practice which , we t rust for the sake ofParliament,and the nation, wil l never be abandoned .”

16 . The E uropean Magazine pp. 74, 154—157 .

17 . The Annual Register . Appendix to Chronic le, pp . 560-568.

NOTESNOTE I .—Diet. Nat. B iog.

Although reference is made to the dubious case ofthe flogging of the manPaterson during W al l’s outward voyage to Goree, there is no mention of thefact that four other soldiers were flogged by the Governor’s order on the sameday and the day fol lowing the punIshment of Benj . Armstrong, and thattwo of these also died of thei r wounds. There seems to be no authority forthe statement that W al l “ appears to have been in l iquor when he passedsentence on the men, and as such a presumption, wh ich was never put forwardby the prosecution, sweeps away all defence, and proves that the act was

murder , i t should not be accepted without the most t rustworthy ev idence.

Mrs W al l’s father, Kenneth Mackenz ie, Lord Fortrose, never became LordSeaforth her brother did. Since W al l d id not remain at Goree formore thantwo years, and left the island on July 1 1, 1782, i t is ev ident that he did not

become Governor in 17 79 . His letter to Lord Pelham, ofiering to stand

h is t rial , was written on Octobe r 5, 1801,not on October 28. S tate Trials,

vol. xxv i ii . p. 99 .

NOTE 11.—S tate Trials of the N ineteenth Century. By G . Latham Brown(Sampson Low,

Vol. i . pp . 28—42 .

On page 31 the author states that he has searched the records of thePrivy Council in vain for a report of the charges brough t against W al l byCaptain Roberts in 1783. As stated prev ious ly, he would have found what berequired in the co lumns of the Morning Post Of August 13, or the Gazetteer

,

August 14, 1783. I t is strange that he is unaware that W al l flogged to

death two o ther soldiers besides Benj . Arms trong.

NOTE I I I .—E a’inburgh Rev iew, January 1883, v ia

'

e c riticism of G . L. B rown’sbook, p . 81.

To the writer of this rev iew be longs the credit of being the first to h in t adoubt as to the justice ofW al l’s conv ic tion.

NOTE IV.—A Tale without a Name—a tribute to Joseph W al l’s noble wife—wil l

be found in the works of James Montgomery, Longman vol. i i i . p. 278.

Via’e also Life ofMontgomery,by Hol land and Everett . Longman vol. i i i.

p . 253.

NOTE V.—Other contemporary authorities are Letters from E ngland by Don

Alvarez E spriella, Robert Southey, vol. i . pp. 97 , 108,and the fami liar B ooh for

a Rainy Day,by J. T. Smith , pp. 165—173.

THE KE S W ICK IMPOS TOR

THE CASE OF JOHN HADFIELD,1802-3

a story d rawnF rom our own ground,—the Maid ofButtermere,And how, unfaithful to a virtuous wifeDeser ted and deceived, the Spoiler came,And woo’d the ar t less daughter of the hil ls,And wedded her, in cruel mockeryOf love andmarriage bonds.

Beside the mountain chapel , sleeps in earth

Her new-born infant.

Happy are they both,Motherand child

DUR I NG the late autumn Of 1 7 9 2, a ret i red mi l i tary manof amiable disposit ion and poeti c temperament, who hadmade a recent tour through Cumberland and Westmoreland , published his impress ions in a small volumewhich bore the t i tle A Fortn zght

’

s Ramble to the Lahes .

The book displays the l i terary stamp of i ts period jus tas clearly as a coin indicates the reign in which i ti s moulded . Fashion had banished the rigour of the

pedant in favour of idyll ic simpl ici ty. The wel l-groomedpoet, who for so long had recited his marble-work epistleto Bel inda of satin brocade, now spoke to deaf ears ;whi le the unkempt bard

,who sang a bal lad of some

musl in -clad rustic maid , caught the newly-awakenedsympath ies of the artist ic world .

146



i48 some msrmcursnen VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

admirers, and conscience told him that he had not donewel l i n making her famous . There was Christmasmerrymaking at the l ittle inn, and she reigned as queenof the rustic ball . Next morn ing he confessed to herthat he had written the book which had brought herinto publ ic notice .

“ S trangers wil l come and have come, said he,purposely to see you , and some of them with very badintentions . We hope you will never suffer from them,

but never cease to be on your guard .

”

Mary l istened quietly to th is tardy advice, and thankedhim pol i tely.

“ You real ly are not so handsome as you promisedto be,

” Budworth cont inued .

“ I have long wishedby conversation l ike this to do away what mischief theflattering character I gave of you may expose you to.

Be merry and wise .

Then,taking advantage of his seniori ty of twenty

three years, the good -natured travel ler “ gave her ahearty salute

,and bade her farewel l . Unfortunately

,

he repeated his previous indiscretion by publish inganother long account of the Buttermere Beauty in theGentleman

’

s Magaz ine, and , l ike Wordsworth , who ins im i lar manner paraded the charms of ‘ l i ttle BarbaraLewthwaite,

’ he l ived to regret what he had wri tten .

Two years later, a handsome middle-aged gentlemanof fine presence and gal lant manners paid a visi t tothe Lake D i strict, bearing the name of AlexanderAugustus H ope (brother to the th ird Earl H opetoun) ,who

,after a successful mil itary career

,had represented

the burgh of Dumfries , and now sat in Parl iament asmember for Linl i thgowshire . An active , strong-l imbedfellow, with courtly demeanour and an ins inuating I rishbrogue, the contrast between h is th ick black browsand h is fai r hair

,between the patch of grey over his

r ight temple and the fresh colour of h is face,added to

THE KESW ICK IMPOSTOR 149

an appearance of s ingular attract iveness. These werethe days of the dandies, when young Mr GeorgeBrummell was teaching the Prince of Wales how agentleman should be attired ; and Colonel H ope wasdistinguished by the neatness and simpl ic i ty of a welldressed man of fashion .

The new-comer reached Keswick about the th irdweek in July, travell ing in h is own carriage withoutostentation

,having h ired horses and no servant. Soon

after h is arrival he went over to Buttermere,and

remained there for two or three days . Towards theend of the month he vis i ted Grassmere

,where he

became acquainted with a genial merchant from Liverpool, whose name was J ohn Crump . Being a mostentertain ing companion—for he was a great travel ler,had fought in the American War, and, as mightbe expected of one so gal lant and handsome, had beenengaged in numerous duels—Colonel H ope had theknack offascinating al l whom he met. With Mr Crump,who for some reason was not in favour with the youngpoet at G reta H al l, he struck up a great friendshipduring his three weeks’ stay at Grassmere, and a l i tt lelater the merchant showed h is appreciation by christen ingone of his children ‘Augustus Hope ’ as a compl imentto his new acquaintance.About the end of the third week in August themember ofParl iament, whose passion , we are told, was arod and fly, left G rassmere, and , for the sake of the charfishing,

took up h is quarters at the l i ttl e inn at Buttermere. 8 0 pleased was he with the district, that hecontemplated the purchase of an estate, and Mr Skelton,a neighbouring landowner, went with him to i nspect aproperty near Loweswater. During h is sojourn at theChar I nn he paid frequent visi ts to Keswick to meet h isfriend J ohn Crump . Although wish ing, for the sake of

quiet and seclus ion , to travel incogni to, Colonel H ope

150 SOME D I STI NGUISHED V ICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

seems to have been a gregarious person , and could nothelp extending the number of h is acquaintances. At the‘ Queen’s H ead ,

’ Keswick, where h is Liverpool friendwas i n the habi t of stopping, he came across a kindredspiri t in Colonel Nathaniel Montgomery Moore

,who had

represented the town of S trabane in the recently ext inctI rish Parl iament.S ince the two had much in common, a , close int imacy

ensued but there was another reason for Colonel H ope’sfriendly advances . A pretty young lady of fortune, towhom Mr Moore was guard ian

,was one of his party

,

and the new acquaintance began to pay her the mostevident attent ion . Colonel H ope , i n fact, always hadbeen remarkable for his insinuating behav iour in thesoc iety of women , and s ince h is arrival i n the LakeD i strict he had been concerned in an affai r of gallantrywith at least two local maidens far beneath h im in station .

H owever, th is was a pardonable weakness , for the Princeh imself

,and h is brothers of York and Clarence

,d id not

disdain to stoop to conquer. But on the present occas ion the gay Colonel apparently had fallen in love

,and

when , before very long, he asked the lady to be his wife,he was accepted .

I t is not strange that a man of h is power of fascinationand handsome appearance should have met with successeven on so short an acquaintance . The match seemeda most su itable one i n every respect, and Mr Moorewould have been wel l satisfied that h is ward should beengaged to a man of Alexander H ope’s rank andposi tion . Yet the lover did not hasten to take theguardian into h is confidence . Remain ing at the l i t tl einn on the shores of Buttermere , only occasionally hemade the fourteen mi les’ drive to visi t h is fi ancée atKeswick. Colonel Moore, who could not rema in bl ind tothe fl irtation

,became anxious l est h is ward should place

hersel f in a false posi tion . I t was evident that the two


152 SOME D I ST I NGU ISHED V ICT IMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

brought with h im the great intel l igence that the H on.

Colonel H ope had married the Beauty of Buttermere !I t was obvious to everyone—aye , even to the sceptic

of G re ta H all— that the mystery was at an end . Alexander H ope was no impostor. Avarice had not ledh im to attempt the capture of a lady of fortune. Tornbetween love and honour, he had doubted whether togive h is hand when his heart was d isposed elsewhere , orto break his word . Thus , obey ing the impulse of love,he had married a girl of the people. Native pride i nthe Beauty of Buttermere was strong in every breast,and the next mai l conveyed to London the news of hergreat tr iumph .

But Colonel Moore , who had the right to be wroth and

suspic ious, would not be appeased by the explanationswhich satisfied the multitude. S ince he could not be l ievethat a gentleman would behave in such a fashion

,he

made haste to test the credentials of h i s late friend . Thebill of exchange was forwarded to Mr Crump

,who

,

del ighted to be of service to Colonel H ope, from whomhe had received an affectionate note requesting thefavour

,at once accepted i t ! S ti ll the I r i shman refused

to be convinced , and he sent a letter to the bridegroom , informing him that he should wri te to hisbrother

,Lord H opetoun . Moreover, he told al l friends

ofhis intentions.During his five or s ix weeks’ residence at the Char

I nn , the amorous tourist must have had full opportun ityof forming a contrast between the I rish girl and MaryRobinson . The Beauty of Buttermere was now in hertwenty-fifth year. A healthy outdoor l ife had maturedher robust physique, and her figure , though graceful sti l l,had lost the l ines of perfect symmetry. The keenmountain a ir had robbed her complexion of i ts formerdel icacy, and with the advance of womanhood herfeatures had not retained thei r refined

,girl ish prettiness.



S ti ll,her face was comely and pleasant to look upon.

The charm of her kind and modest nature was fel tby al l who met her

,and she seems to have possessed

culture and dist inct ion far i n advance of her lowlystation. I ndeed, one of her most celebrated admirershints plainly that a mystery surrounded her parentage,and that her breadth of mind and her pol ished mannerswere the resul t of gentle birth. H owever, there appearsno warrant for such a surm ise .

So, at last, Colonel H ope had begun to waver in h isardour for the I rish girl. Natural ly

,she was not content

to remain under a secret engagement, and her incl inationsfavoured a bri l l iant wedding

,which her husband

’

s noblerelat ives should honour with thei r presence. Such delayhad not pleased the lover

, who wished the announcementof the betrothal to be followed by a speedy marriage . I nthis respect his other inamorata had been less exact ing.

Poor Mary expected no pomp or ceremony, and hadnever imagined that a peer and h is people would cometo her wedding. All the odium that can attach to theman who pays h is addresses to two women at the samet ime is certainly his

,for i t is stated on good authority

that he made his first proposal to the Cumberland girlbefore he commenced the courtsh ip of Colonel Moore’sri ch ward .

Then,when the heiress refused to fall i n with his wishes,

he made the final choice. On the 25th of September hewent over to Whitehaven—about twelve miles as thecrow fl ies from Buttermere—with the Rev. J ohn Nicholson, chaplai n of Loweswater, a friend of two weeks

’

stand ing, to obtain a special l icence for h i s marriage withMary Robinson . Naturally , no oppos ition was raised bythe parents ; and although i t has been said that thereluctant girl was overruled by their persuas ions

,i t is

certain—as far as any judgment of human nature canbe certain—that she was a will ing bride. Nor—since


h is record shows that each woman whom he cared tofasc inate was unable to resist h im -is i t d i fficul t tobel ieve that Mary was in love with her handsome sui tor.On the morn ing of Saturday, the 2nd of October , the

wedding took place i n the picturesque old church atLoweswater, i n the beautiful vale of Lorton , about sevenmiles from Buttermere. The ceremony was performedby Mr N icholson

,who had become as firm a friend of the

bridegroom as Crump h imself. Immediately after theservice the newly married pair posted off north to visi tColonel Hope’s S cotch estate . Their first day’s journeywas a remarkable one . Passing through Cockermouthand Carl i sle

,they reached Longtown

,near Gretna

Green, at eight o’clock in the evening, a d istance

of over forty m iles . The next day being Sunday, thebridegroom , who on occas ions could affect much rel igiouszeal , i s careful to record , i n a letter to the chaplain ofLoweswater, that they made two appearances in church .

On Tuesday or Wednesday they continued their touracross the Border

,but on the following F riday

,owing to

Mary’

s anxiety to receive news from her paren ts (so herhusband alleged), they retraced their steps to Longtown .

H ere, two days later, important communications reachedColonel H ope

,which made him resolve to return to

Buttermere without delay .

Fr iend N icholson wrote that scandalous reports concern ing h is honour had been spread in the neighbourhoods ince h is departure

,and that h is wife’s parents had been

much d isturbed by the rumours that had reached theirears— informing him also of Colonel Moore’s opin ion ofhis behav iour This latter news was superfluous

,for

there was a letter from the I r ishman himself. I ts con

tents may be gathered from the reply that the travellerdespatched to N icholson on the loth of October. Withamazing effrontery he tel ls h is friend that h is attentionsto the I rish heiress had never been serious

,and expresses


I 56 SOME D I ST I NGU ISHED VICT IMS or w e SCAFFOLD

statement . Nevertheless, other testimony against theaccused man had more weight with the as tute GeorgeHard inge. Not only was there Colonel Moore’sdeclaration that the stranger had always passed asLord Hopetoun

’

s brother, but the Keswick postmasterwas able to prove that he had franked letters as a memberof Parl iament . The resul t was an appeal for a warrantofarrest to a neighbouring magistrate, and the suspectedMr H ope was placed in charge of a constable .

S ti l l,he did not appear disconcerted , but treated the

whole matter as a joke . O thers, too, were of the sameOpin ion

,for during the course of the day he presented a

bill of exchange for twenty pounds, drawn once more onJ ohn Crump

,to the landlord of the ‘Queen’s H ead

,

’

which that indiv idual cashed without hesitation . Thestranger at once sent £ 10 to Colonel Moore to cancel thegratuitous loan received before his departure to Scotland .

Faithful N icholson, too , reta ined ful l confidence in h isgen ial friend

,who ordered dinner to be prepared for both

at the hotel,and continued to bear h im company.

Presently, the prisoner, chafing at the thought ofbe ingkept in durance, asked permission to sail on the lake.As th is appeared a reasonable request

,the wise constable

gave his consent. The clergyman accompan ied hi scompan ion to the water

’

s edge, while he made ferventprotests of i nnocence.

I f he were conscious ofany crime, he told h is trust ingfriend

,a hair would hold him .

”

S i nce , however, he declared that he was gui l tless, as anatural corollary he had no intent ion of being held bythe whole force of the Keswick constabulary

,and N ichol

son must have been aware of h is design . For not onlydid he give his friend a guinea to pay for the d innerat , the ‘Queen’s H ead ,

’ which was a pla in hint thathe d id not mean to return, but he told h im that, ash is carriage had been seized by his accusers, his only

THE KESW ICK IMPOSTOR I 57

chance ofrejoining his wife at Buttermere was by rowingdown the lake.Luck favoured him . A fisherman named Burkett, who

had been his companion on many previous expeditions,had a boat ready for h im, and soon he was far acrossDerwentwater. A crowd of sympathisers, ful l of wrathagainst h is enemies

,for they were sure he was a great

man (as an impostor would have had no motive in marryingpoor Mary), stood on the shore with N icholson and theintell igent constable to watch his departure. Soon theshort October day drew to a close, and darkness fel l uponthe waters, but Colonel Hope d id not return . Keswicknever saw his face again .

The conduct of the Rev. J ohn N icholson has been thesubject of keen censure. Although the prov ince of aparson is not that of the detect ive, i t is unfortunate thathe did not suggest to the parents ofMary of Buttermerethat i t would be wise to verify the statements of theirdaughter’s suitor . On the other hand , i t must be admittedthat everyone was infatuated by the splendid impostor

,

and it is evident that the clergyman was not aware ofthe fl irtation w ith the I rish heiress. I t is more difficul tto defend N icholson

’s conduct at the interview betweenJ udge Hard inge and the swindler ; for although we haveno precise detai ls of the conversat ion, i t i s plain that thechaplain ofLoweswater was gui l ty of a strange ret icence.Naturally, he knew that his mysterious friend had passedunder the name ofColonel H ope, and had franked lettersas a member ofParl iament. S til l, not only d id he refrainfrom exposing, but even continued to trust him,

thoughhe must have perceived h im to be a l iar. H owever

,

chari ty may suggest the conclusion that the clergymanwas full ofcompass ion for Mary Robinson and s ince hebel ieved that her husband would j oi n her at the l itt leChar I nn, he was determ ined, whether felon or not, thathe should have the chance of escape.

[58 SOME DISTI NGU ISHED V ICT IMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

The first announcement of the marriage of the celebrated Butte rmere Beauty wi th the brother ofthe Earl ofH opetoun was printed in the Morn ing P as ! on the 1 1th

of October. Yet, three days later—the morning after theremarkable escape at Derwentwater—a letter

,written

on the h ighest authority,appeared in the same j ournal

,

denying the previous report and sta t ing that the realColonel Alexander H ope was travel l ing on the Continent.Thus

,by chance, London and Keswick became aware

almost s imultaneously that Mary Robinson had been thevict im of a cruel fraud .

Although h is fl ight had made i t evident that thepretended member of Parl iament was an impostor

,i t was

not unti l the last day of October that h is ident i ty wasd iscovered . Meanwhi le, the most strange rumours hadbeen aroused . The fact that al l his plate and l inen werefound packed in his travel l ing carriage, which wasretained by the landlord in pledge for h is twenty pounds

,

gave rise to the suspicion that he had meant to des ert h ispoor young bride . On the other hand , h is adm irerspersisted that he was an I rish gentleman

,hiding from

the authorit ies because of his share in the recent rebell ion.A costly dressing-case, wh ich he had left beh ind , wasexamined under warrant from a magistrate, but nothingturned up to reveal his true name . I n the end thisd iscovery was made by Mary herself. While lookingover the dressing-box more careful ly, she d isclosed asecret h id ing-place contain ing a number of lettersaddressed to h im who had forsaken her. Alas for theBeauty of Buttermere ' No anticipation could haveexceeded the cruel real i ty . The handsome bridegroomwas a marr ied man , and these letters had been writtenby the heart -broken wife whom he had deserted .

‘ Colonel H ope,

’ her supposed r ich and noble husband,

was a notorious swindler—guil ty of a capital felonywhose real name was John Hadfield !



160 SOME DISTI NGU ISHED V ICT IMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

During 1 784, after a brief career of fraud in Dubl in,where he posed as a relative of the V iceroy, and bymeans of this falsehood contracted a host of fraudulentdebts

,he was lodged in the Marshalsea Prison . With

unblushing impudence he appealed to the LordLieutenant his previous benefactor, the Duke ofRutland—who agreed to pay h is debts on the understand ing that he should leave I reland immediately.

I n the year 1 79 2 Scarborough became the scene ofh is depredations. S taying at one of the principal hotels

,

he announced his intention of representing the town inParl iament in the interest of the Manners family. Aportrai t of poor Captain Lord Robert caused h im to

burst into tears, which ev idence of feel ing won thesympathy ofal l who witnessed i t . As usual, his sparkl ingconversation and dist ingu ished appearance disarmedsusp ic ion

,and for several weeks he l ived in princely

style at the expense of his landlord . When pressedfor money he d id not hesitate to offer bil ls of exchange

,

which the local tradesmen accepted without demur.Yet the day of reckoning, which th i s remarkable mannever seemed to ant icipate , could not be postponedOn the 25th ofApr i l he was arrested for the hotel debt,and

,not being able to find bail, was cast into pri son .

Some weeks later, a detainer was lodged against h imby a London credi tor, and for eight years he remainedan inmate of the Scarborough Gaol .Dur ing h is long confinement he maintained his

favourite pose as a luckless ar istocrat, writ ing poetry ,and publ ish ing much abuse aga inst the authorit i es. Atlast fortune sm i led upon the interest ing captive . N either

Faublas nor Casanova ruled w i th more success overthe female heart

,and i t was to a woman that he owed

his release. A Devonsh ire lady, named Nation,who,

i t is said,occupied rooms fac ing the prison, took com

passion upon h im,and paid his debts . On the 13th of

THE KESW ICK IMPOSTOR 16 1

September 1800 the impostor became a free man, and thenext morn ing, notwi thstanding that h itherto they hadbeen strangers, he married h is benefactress . The pairmade thei r home at H ele Bridge , near Dulverton , onthe borders of Somerset and Devon , where the bride

’sfather was steward to a neighbouring landowner

,and

before very long Hadfield plunged once more into acareer of fraud .

A marvel lous ap/omé, his previous commercial ex

perience, and a deposi t of 3000 which he contributedtowards the firm , induced Messrs Denn is and Company,merchants of repute in the neighbouring town ofTiverton

,to admit him as a partner . I n consequence

of th is new enterprise, he removed during the summerof 180 1 with h is wife and chi ld to a cottage at thev i l lage ofW ashfield to be near h is business . As before ,the utter lack of prescience and sagaci ty character isticof the man prevented him from reaping the fru itsof h is perverted genius, as a less clever but moreprudent would have done . The whole transaction wasa smartly conce ived but clumsily arranged swindle.S ince the money for the partnership had been obtainedby inducing a Mr Nucella, merchant of London

,to

transfer Government stock, which soon would have tobe replaced

,to the credi t of Messrs Dennis, Hadfield

was compel led to real ise l'llS Winn ings without delay.

For the sake of a few hundred pounds of ready cash,

he seems to have been eager to sacrifice all that a manusual ly holds dear, and to have become a lawless adventurer once again .

I n April 1802 he was obl iged to decamp from Devonsh ire

,leaving his wife and ch ildren as before, whi le his

partners in T iverton, who soon discovered that they hadbeen defrauded by a swindler, proceeded to strike hisname off the books of the firm . During the followingJune he was declared a bankrupt. Meanwhile he had

I I

162 SOME D IST I NGU ISHED V ICTIM S OF THE SCAFFOLD

proceeded to cut a dash in London,and i t is said that he

came forward as cand idate for Queenborough , with theobject of obta ining immunity from arrest as a member ofParl iament Being st i l l provided wi th funds

,he made no

attempt to surrender to the commission issued against h im ;but compel led , through fear ofexposure, to rel inquish hispol i t ical ambi tions, he went on a leisurely tour throughScotland and I reland , and in the month of July appearedat Keswick as ‘ Colonel H ope,

’ to work the crowningmisch ief of his l i fe.There has been much conj ecture with regard to the

motives ofHadfield in his conduct to poor Mary Robinson .

The explanat ion that he was actuated by pure animal ismcannot be reconciled with our knowledge of his temperament or his methods, sett ing aside the in itial objectionthat the sensual ist, already cloyed by innumerable conquests, does not usually play a heavy stake to grat ify apass ing fancy. Nor is i t credible that a man who hadthe heart to forsake two wives and five chi ldren couldhave been influenced by love. At firs t sight i t seemsprobable that, j ust as the most reckless speculator oftencuts a desperate loss , he wished to qui t a hazardouscareer offraud, and to l ive a l ife ofquiet and seclusion inthe humble home of the Beauty of Buttermere. Suchforesight, however, was whol ly incons istent with thenature ofthe man and even had he been capable of th i sreason ing, a moment

’s reflection must have taught himthat h is recent ostentat ion had made reti rement imposs ible. No ; l ike that of every gambler, J ohn Hadfield

’

s

des t iny was ruled by chance . Each stake he playeddetermined by the exigency of the moment win or lose ,he could not draw back nor rest, but must follow bl indlythe fortunes of the day to cover the losses of the past.Although not able to possess his I r ish heiress, the t inydowry of Mary Robinson

,the poor l i ttle inn at Butter

mere , seemed to l ie at h i s mercy, and so he seiz ed upon



pounds for hi s arrest, was publ ished on the 8th ofNovember and scattered broadcas t over the country.

The next tidings of h im came from Builth in Wales,where

,on the n th of November, he is said to have

swindled a friend,who had no knowledge tha t he was

the Keswick impostor, by the usual device of a bil l ofexchange . On the day following th is performance, theLondon post brought the newspapers contain ing thedescription of h is person , and he hurried away fromthe l i ttle town on the banks of the Wye in h is fl ighttowards the south. For a time he sti l l baffl ed capture,but the pursuers steadi ly closed upon h is track . On the2 2nd of November the authori t ies at Swansea were informed that a man res embl ing the publ ished account of theimpostor had been seen in the mountains beyond N eath ,and the next day Hadfield was run to earth at the‘ Lamb and F lag,

’ an old coach ing inn about seventeenmiles from the seaport town . At once he was lodgedin Brecon Gaol , and in about a fortnight

’s time the newspapers inform us that he was brought up to town by onePearkes, robin-redbreast.The romance of the case attracted a great crowd to

Bow S treet when the notorious swindler was brought upfor examination by S i r Richard Ford on the oth ofDecember, and the invest igat ion appears to have beendifficul t and tedious for he appeared before the magistrateeach Monday morn ing duri ng the next three weeks. Onone of these occas ions his att i re is descr ibed as “

re

spectable, though he was qu i te en dds/zaéillé , h is dressbe ing a black coat and waistcoat

,fustian breeches

,and

boots , while h is hair was worn t ied b ehind withoutpowder, and he was perm i tted to appear unfettered byi rons . Among other requests he asked for a privateroom at Toth i ll F ields Prison , as he obj ected to herdwith common pickpockets

,and he desired also to be

sent as soon as poss ible to Newgate. Although his


wishes were not granted, the sol ici tor for h is bankruptcymade him an allowance ofa guinea a week.

Most pathetic was the loyalty of the wife andbenefactress whom he had used so cruel ly. The poorwoman

,who was the mother of two chi ldren, travel led

from Devonshire—a journey occupying a couple of daysand a night—to spend Christmas Day in pri son withher unfai thful husband . Numerous celebri ties v isi ted thecourt during the examinat ion ofthe impostor. Amongstthose who were noticed more than once was the Dukeof Cumberland , drawn possibly by a fellow-feel ing for

the culpri t, and Monk Lewis, on the look-out for freshmelodrama. At last all the charges against h im wereproved to the hi lt—his offence against the law of bankruptcy, his repeated frauds on the Post O ffice, the twob i l ls ofexchange forged at Keswick . S ti l l, although thein iquities of h is past were fully revealed

,and although

a shoal of unpaid debts, fraudulently contracted, stoodagainst h is name, one circumstance alone was responsiblefor the great popular interest, and aroused also universalabhorrence. J ohn Hadfield had been damned to everlasting fame as the seducer of Mary ofButtermere .

The extent ofhis baseness was disclosed in the courseof the proceedings at Bow S treet . I t was found thatthe poor girl was dest ined to become the mother ofhi schi ld

,and that he was in debt to her father for a sum

of 180. I ndeed, the motive of his mock marriagebecame apparent

,for he had endeavoured to persuade

the trusting parents to al low him to sel l thel ittl e inn on their behalf, and possibly, but for theinterference of J ust ice Hard inge, he might havesucceeded . Mary refused to prosecute h im for bigamy,but she was induced to send a letter to S i r RichardFord, which was read in court at Hadfield

’

s fourthexamination .

“ S i r,

” sh e wrote,i n the first agony of her cruel


di senchantment,“ the man whom I had the misfortune

to marry,and who has ru ined me and my aged and

unhappy parents, always told me that he was theH onourable Colonel H ope, the next brother to theEarl of H opetoun .

”

Contemporary newspapers Show that the Beauty of

Buttermere became the heroine of the hour—She wasthe theme of bal lads in the streets ; her sad S tory wasupon every lip ; never was there so much sympathy forone of her humble birth .

Early i n the new year, Hadfield, who received asmuch notice from the journals as Madame Recamier’swonderful new bed, was committed to Newgate . Withcool effrontery he dictated a letter to the press , asking thepubl ic to reserve j udgment un ti l h is case was heard

,and

,

as a wanton Tory newspaper declared , l ike Mr Fox andMr Windham, he complained bitterly of misrepresentation . A long interval elapsed before he was sent north tostand h is trial

,and he did not reach Carl isle Gaol un ti l the

25th of May, whither he was conveyed by an officer fromBow S treet

,who bore the appropriate name ofRivett.

At the next ass izes, on the 1sth of August, he wasarraigned before S i r Alexander Thomson , n icknamedthe ‘ S taymaker

,

’ owing to h is habit ofchecking volublewi tnesses—a figure to be held in dread by law-breakersof the northern counties, as the Luddi te riots in a fewyears were to show. Hadfield was not lucky in h isjudge , for the man who ,

at a later date, could be harshenough to cons ign to the hangman the poor l i ttle crippleboy Abraham Charlson

,was not l ikely to extend mercy

to a forger .The prisoner stood charged upon three indictments

(a) With having drawn a bil l of exchange upon J ohn .

G regory Crump for the sum of£20, under the false andficti t ious name of the H on . Alexander Augustus Hope.

(b) With having forged a bil l of exchange for £30,


168 SOME D I ST I NGUISHED V ICT IMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

in having my sufferings term inated , as I know theymust be , by your verdict . For the space of n ine monthsI have been dragged from prison to prison , and tornfrom place to place, subject to al l the misrepresentationof calumny. Whatever wi l l be my fate, I am con tent.I t i s the award of j ust ice, impartially and virtuously admin istered . But I wil l solemnly declare that in al l transactions I never intended to defraud or i nj ure those perso nswhose names have appeared in the prosecu tion. This Iwill maintain to the last of my l i fe .

”

Very properly the judge would not accept the pleaset up by the defence, that the financ ial position of theprisoner was a guarantee that no fraud had beenmeditated . At seven o

’

clock in the evening, after aconsul tation of ten minutes, the jury returned a verdictof guil ty. Hadfield rece ived the announcement withcomposure

,and when he was brought up for sentence

the next day—as was the barbarous custom of thoset imes—he displayed equal coolness. Kneel ing down,and looking steadi ly at the judge—who began to rol lout a S tream of sonorous platitudes—he did not speaka word .

From the first he seems to have been resigned toh is fate, and gave no trouble to h is gaolers , but spenth is time quietly i n writ ing letters and reading the B ible.I ndeed , his whole behaviour was that of one u tterlyweary of ex istence, and he does not appear to havedesired or expected a reprieve . All h is l ife he hadposed as a rel igious man , and he lent an eager ear to themin istrations oftwo local c lergymen who attended him.

S ince there is no evidence that he was penitent, wemay adopt the more rational suppos it ion that he wasplaying for popular sympathy. I t was seldom that hespoke of himself

,and the only reference he made to h is

own case was that he had never sought to defraudeither J ohn Crump or Colonel Moore. A contemporary


report states that “ he was in cons iderable d istressbefore he received a supply of money from his father.Afterwards he l ived in great Style, frequently makingpresents to his fel low -felons. I n the gaol he wasconsidered as a kind of emperor, being allowed to dowhat he pleased, and no one took offence at the air ofsuperiori ty which he assumed . Some days before h isdeath he sent for an undertaker to measure him for acoffin

,and gave his instruct ions to the man without any

s igns ofagitat ion .

On the day ofhis sentence, Wordsworth and Coleridge,who were passing through Carl isle, sought an interviewwith h im . While he received the former

,as he received

all who wished to see him , he denied himself toColeridge, which makes i t clear that he had read andresented the articles wri tten by the latter to theMorning P ost. Neither h is father (said to have beenan honest man in a smal l way of bus iness ) nor h iss isters v isi ted h im . Also h is faithful wife, s ince probably the state of her heal th or her poverty would notallow her to make the long journey from Devonshireto Carl isle

,was unable to bid h im farewell .

There has been much idle gossip concerning theconduct of Mary of Buttermere after her betrayer wascondemned to die . Some have said that she was overwhelmed with grief

,that she suppl ied him with money

to make his prison l i fe more comfortable, and that shewas d issuaded with difficul ty from coming to see h im .

Without accepting the al ternat ive suggested, amongothers

,by De Quincey, that she was quite indifferent to

h is fate,there are reasons for rej ect ing the other sup

posit ions. I t is impossible that the most amiable ofwomen would continue to love a man who had shownso l i ttle affect ion towards her , and whose hard heart didnot S hrink from crowning her betrayal by the ru in of

her parents . The story of the gift ofmoney, also , seems

170 SOME D I ST I NGU ISHED V ICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

unl ikely,as her father had been impoverished by the

swindler, and the fund for h is rel ief, raised by a subscription in London—which did not receive too generoussupport—had not yet been sent to Buttermere . And,finally

—alas ! for romance—s ince the moral code even ofthe dawn of the n ineteenth century d id not al low MaryRobinson to usurp the duties, more than the name,of wife to the prisoner, i t i s incred ible that a modestwoman would wish to renew the memories of her un

hal lowed union by an interview with the man whoseassoc iation with her had brought only d ishonour.The execution of John Hadfield took place on Saturday,

the 3rd of September. Rising at six,he spent half an

hour in the prison chapel . At ten o’clock h is fetterswere removed

,and he was occup ied most of the morn ing

in prayer with the two clergymen , who, we are told ,drank coffee with him . The authorities do not seem tohave had any fear that he would attempt h is l ife , forthey allowed him the use of a razor. About the hourofth ree he made a hearty meal

,at which h is gaoler kept

h im company. I n those t imes there was a tradition inCarl isle that a reprieve had once arrived in the afternoon for a criminal who was hanged in the morning .

Thus,nearly three weeks had been al lowed to elapse

between Hadfield’

s trial and execut ion— In order thatthere might be plenty of t ime for a commun ication fromLondon—and even on the last day the fatal hour waspostponed unt i l the ma i l from the south was del ivered .

Although i t had been the op in ion of the town that hewould not suffer the extreme penalty, the Saturday post,which arrived early in the afternoon , brought no pardon .

At half-past three he was taken to the turnkey’s lodge,where he was p inioned

,his bonds being tied loosely at

h is request . H ere he showed a great desire to see theexecut ioner—who

,oddly enough

,hai led from Dumfries,

the town wh ich the real Colonel Hope had represented in


17 2 SOME DISTINGU ISHED V ICT IMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

struggle, and did not even raise h is hands . An hourand a half later he was lying in a grave in S t Mary’sChurchyard, for h is request that he should be buri ed atBurgh-on-Sands was disregarded out of consideration forthe pious memory ofEdward I .Were i t not for h is das tardly treatment of the women

who gave him thei r love,the fate of J ohn Hadfield

would seem hard . H e was not hanged for swindlingJ ohn Crump out of{ so—wh ich indeed the value of h iscarriage and its contents, left beh ind at Keswick, wouldhave more than cancel led—but for attempting to swindleh im under the ficti tious name ofColonel Hope. Thus byassuming the character of another man he became eu

tangled in one of the fine-spun meshes of the law , andwas held gui l ty of an intention to defraud. Our greatgrandfathers, who, with the ass is tance of S i r AlexanderThomson , could hang an old woman for steal ing a fewpotatoes in a bread riot, thought it exped ient also to ki l la man who obtained £50 by tel l ing a l ie .

There is much truth in the propos i t ion,which has

been stated with such inaccuracy by D e Quincey, that,but for his heartless conduct to Mary of Buttermere,J ohn Hadfield might have escaped the gallows. I t isprobable that M r Crump would have been loth to

advert ise h imself as a credulous dupe,unless he had

thought that i t was h is duty to give evidence against aheartless seducer. Parson N icholson

,also, would have

had no reason to depart from the atti tude he had takenup before he was aware that he had officiated at abigamous marriage .Notw i thstand ing that h is career was marked by so

many V i l lain ies, John Hadfield i s i n many respects an

admirable rascal . Setting as ide his behaviour towardswomen—if that is poss ible even for a moment—he playeda part wh ich required infinite tact and magnificentcourage. Although occas ional ly he robbed a man who


THE KESW ICK IMPOSTOR 17 3

was not rich, yet unti l the crime of Buttermere such anoccurrence was in the nature of an accident

,and was

rather the faul t of the wronged one for putt ing himselfin the path . Like Claude Duval, the Keswick impostorwas in the main merciful towards the impecun ious ; notindeed for conscience sake, but because he bel ieved thath is rightful place was among the wealthy. A hunter ofbig game, dukes, members ofParl iament, and prosperousmerchants were his proper prey ! And the man whocould mainta in a decent social posit ion for twenty years

,

i n sp ite of the heavy handicaps of poverty and lowlybirth , and could compel those whom one of his classShould have met only as a lackey to receive him onequal terms, was more than a common trickster. Aninsatiable love of pleasure robbed him of al l foresightand prudence, or such a consummate l iar might havecl imbed high . Even as he was—had an ear! been hisfather—he might have gone down to posteri ty as one ofthe greatest d iplomats the world has ever seen .

The career ofSamuel Denmore H ayward, hanged atthe O ld Bailey for forgery on the z 7 th of November18 2 1 , a picture of whom, dancing with a lady ofqual ity,

’

ornaments one version of the N ewgate Calendar,i s

s imilar to that of the Keswick impostor. Both men seemto have had culture and address ; each was distinguishedfor h is social ambition, and both were famous for gal lantry.

With the exception ofJ ames Maclean, i l lustrious as thefriend of Lady Carol ine Petersham and l i tt le M iss Ashe

,

none of our rogues—not even Wil l iam Parsons,the

baronet’s son—have been such fine gentlemen.

Mary Rob inson’s chi ld was born early in J une 1803,

but did not survive its birth . Who can tel l whether shewept over it ; or i f the words that came from the l ipsof her parents, when they heard of the death of herbetrayer

,did not seem a fitt ing epi taph—“ God be

thanked !” To avoid the gaze of curious travel lers the


unhappy girl was obliged for a period to leave hernat ive place , and the shadow that had fal len upon heryoung l ife was not l i fted for many years . Yet, brighterdays were in store for the Maid of Buttermere. I n thecourse oftime she was wooed and won by a Cumberland‘S tatesman ’ named Richard H arrison , to whom she wasmarried at B righam Church in the May of 1808. Twoof her sons

,born at Buttermere , where She resided for a

period after her marriage, died in infancy ; but when herhusband took her to his farm at ‘Todcrofts ,

’ Caldbeck,

beyond Skiddaw—where the H arrison family had beenstatesmen ’

for generations—she became the mother offive more ch i ldren, three daughters and two sons , allof whom grew up and married . I n later years i t wasremarked that her girls were as pretty as Mary had beenherself when she was the Maid of the I nn . There isreason to bel ieve that the rest of her career was happyand prosperous , and she l ived tranquil ly in her home atTodcrofts ,

’

where she d ied in her fifty-ninth year. Thetombstone records that she passed away on the 7 th ofFebruary 1837 , while her husband survived her for sixteenyears . Both rest in the churchyard that holds the ashesof immortal J ohn Peel , who followed Richard Harrisonto ‘ the happy hunting-fields ’ with in a few months .

( I am indebted to the kindness of Mr RichardG reenup, of Beckstones , Caldbeck, one of Mary Robinson

’

s few surviving grandch ildren , for much interestinginformation . )


176 SOME D I STINGU ISHED V ICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

S ir A lexander Hope , brother of the thi rd Earl Hopetoun , whom Hadfield

impersonated , was not (as sta ted in the Die. Nat . B rag. ) the second but theergktk son of the second earl (vide Gentleman’s Magaz ine, 1837 , part ii . p .

NOTE I .—A For tnight’s Ramble to tire Lakes in PVestmorland, Ia ncash ire and

Cumberland. By a Rambler. J. N ichols, London . Chap. xxx. 2 17 .

This book is reviewed at ful l length in the Gentleman ’

s Magazine,December1792, pt . ii . pp. 1 1 14

-16,and in the E uropean Magaz ine, December 1892,

pt. ii. p. 436 . The auth or,Joseph Budworth, who afterwardsmid his

wife’s surname, Palmer,was a cont ributor to the former jou Mary

Robinson is descr ibed under the ps eudonym ‘ Sally of Buttermere. ’ Thesecond edition of the Fortnight’s Ramble is reviewed in Gentleman’s Alagaz ine,vol . l xvi . pt. i . p . 132, February 1796 .

NOTE 11.—A Revis it to B uttermere. Letter from a rambler to ‘Mr. U rban,’dated Buttermere, January 2 (v ide Gentleman’s Magaz ine, Janua ry 1800, 18

This account was inse rted in the third edition of A Fortni s Ramble,published in 18 10. Joseph Budworth tells us that his second v '

mit to Buttermeretook place in January 1798.

NOTE I II—The Prelude, or Growth of a Poet’s Mind , by Wm. Wordsworth.Commenced 1799 , finished 1805, publ ished 1850. The Centenary edi tion of theworks ofWm. Wordsworth. S ix vols. Edited by E. Moxon, 1870.

Book VI I . , Residence in London .

” contains the famous reference toof Butte rmere and her story . Describing various d ramas he has seen at Sad ler 5Well s Theatre, the poet mentions one written around the story of Mary ofButtermere. Notes and Queries, Tenth Series, i. pp . 7 , 70, 96 .

NOTE IV .

—l e Collected W ritings of Thomas De Quincey . Ed ited by DavidMas son . A. C . B lack ( 1889 vide Literary Remz

'

nisrenees,Samuel Taylor

Coleridge , vol. ii . pp. 138—225.

The descr iption of ‘The Hadfield Afl

'

air ’ occupies pp. 174—184, and its

numerous errors were the subject of a smart attack by a correspondent in Notes

and Queries (F irst Series , vol. viii. p . July 9 , 1853.

NOTE V .-T/ze Tourists N ew Guide. By Wil l iam Green . In two volumes.

Kendal vol . i i. pp. I8o—5, 221. S eventy-ezglzt S tudies fi ofn Nature. By

Wi l l iam Green. Longman ( 1809 ) p. 7 .

The various desc riptions of Mary Robinson are so conflicting that it isdifficult , unti l one reads the impressions reco rded from year to year by Wm.

Green , to form an estimate of her personal appearance. I t has been shownthat Joseph Budworth , who first saw her in 1792 , when she was fourteen ,raves of her charms, and his second V isit to Buttermere six years later did no tdis il lusionise him . De Quincey, however, denies that she was beautifu l , anddoes not praise even her figure . Yet he seems to be unconscious th at he isdesc ribing, not the world-renowned Maiden of Buttermere,’ but a matron ofthirty-five, who was now the wife of a prosperous farmer, and who had drankdeeply of life’s sorrows Mr Frederick Reed ofHassness . Buttermere, wri ting inA ugust 1874 (Notes and Queries , F ifth Series , i i. th irty-seven years afterher death , states that she was not th e beauty she is re resented to have been.

She carried herself well , but got to be coarse-featured.

” til l,as i t is improbable

that Mr Reed saw her til l she was past her prime,his cri ticism is of li ttle value.

Sara Nel son , too , who was born during the yea r of Mary’s great trouble, didnot meet her t il l her good looks had vanished. The Morn ing Pos t of Oc tober1 1, 1802, contains the fol lowing description from the pen of Co le ridge —“ To

beauty in the st rict sense of the word she has smal l pretensions, being rathe rgap

-too thed and somewhat pock-fretten . But her face is very expressive, andthe express ion ex tremely interesting, and her figure and movements are gracefulto a miracle . She ought indeed to be cal led the Grace of Buttermere ratherthan the Beauty.

”

Wi l liam Green tel ls us that he first saw Mary Robinson in 179 1, the year

B IBL IOGRAPHY OF THE HADFIELD CAS E 17 7

before she was noticed by Captain Budworth .

“ At that time,” says he, shewas thirteen ; and to an open, honest, and pleasant-looking face , then in thebloom of health, was added the promise of a good figure. Her garb, thoughneat, was rustic ; but through it, even while so young, appeared indications ofthat mild d ignity which was afterwards so peculiarly attrac tive.” He saw hernext in 1794.

“ The infantine prettiness of thi rteen was now matured intobeauty ; her countenance beamed wi th an indesc ribable sweetness, and thecommanding graces of her fine person were equalled only by her innate goodsense and excellent disposi tion.” A fter remarking that Captain Budworth’spanegyric seemed to have had no il l effect upon her mind, he proceeds Likesome other mountain rustics, observed by the writer dur ing his res idenceamongst these thinly populated wilds, Mary’s beauty was ripened at an earlyperiod ; for this was, probably, the period of its perfection .

”Green did not

see her again til l 180 1. “ She was then twenty-three, and though greatlyadmired for her general appearance and deportment, was on the whole infinitelyless interesting than seven years before that time.” In 1805, the date of hisnext visit to Buttermere

,he noted a further change. Her features were per

vaded by a melancholy meekness,but her beauty was fled, and with it, that

peculiar elegance of rson, for which she was formerly celebrated. " The nex ttime the artist saw er was in 1810.

“ She was no longer the Beauty ofButtermere

,but Mrs. Harr ison , the bulky wife of a farmer, blessed with much

good humour, and a ready utterance.” This was about the time when DeQuincey saw her. G i l lray’s sketch , November 15, 1802, corroborates Green’sdescription .

The D ictionary ofNational B iography gives the date of publication of H e

Tourist’s Guide as 1822. This is an error. I t was publ ished in 1819. The

same monograph does not mention Green’s S urvey ofManchester.

NOTE VI . -E ast Cheshire. By J. P. Earwaker, 1880, vol. i i. p . 136.

Gives the fol lowing extract from the register of baptisms at the parishchurch of Mottram-in-Longdendale

“1 759. May 24, John , son of Wi l liam Hadfield

,and Betty, his Wife.

The church register confi rms this reference.John Hadfield

’s father, who lived at Crodenbrook or Craddenbrook ,

Longden, must have been a man of means, for in 1760 he gave £20 to the poor.NOTE VIL—Dz

'

c. N at. B z’

og. Th is excel len t sketch is only marred by the misspel ling of Hadfield

’

s name, and the error in the date of his birth .

A FAMOUS FORGERY

THE CASE OF HENRY FAUNTLEROY,1824

P art —The Criminal and his Crime.

Then, lis t, ingenuous youthAnd once forego your joy,

For your instruction I displayThe life ofFauntleroy.

”

The D irge ofFauntleroy, JAMES USHER, r824.

IN the year 1 79 2—not one of the least d isastrous in

our annals of commerce—a smal l party of capital is tsestabl ished a private bank under the name of Marsh

,

S ibbald Company of Berners S treet . The chiefpromoters—Will iam Marsh , a naval agent, and J amesS ibbald of S ittwood Park, Berkshire, a ret i red officialof Company John—were gentlemen of substance andposition ; whi le their managing partner

,Will iam

Fauntleroy (previously employed at the famous houseof Barclay), was a man of abil ity and business ex

perience. Four years later, a younger son ofS i r EdwardS tracey, a Norfolk baronet, who married eventual ly theniece of S i r J ames S ibbald, was admitted into the fi rm .

Although never a bank of great resources, i t appearsto have made a fai r return to its proprietors

,and because

of i ts connection with two baronets—one of whombecame Sheri ff of h is county—it was regarded as ahouse of repute. I n the spring of 1807 the firm re



I 8o SOME DISTI NGU ISHED V ICTIMS or THE SCAFFOLD

should discourage any latter-day egoist who prides himself upon a similar l ikeness .Springing from an industrious Nonconformist stock

(for his father had been the archi tect of his own fortunes,while h is elder brother Wi ll iam , who fel l a v ictim toconsumption at an early age, was a youth ful l of thepromise ofgen ius ), the temperament of H enry Fauntleroyappears to have been as complex a piece of mechan ismas Nature ever enclosed with i n a human tenement. Thelove of toi l

,and an indomitable perseverance, seemed to

be the gu iding principles of his l ife. Not only d id hisfine courage never waver amidst the terrors of thefinancial tempest

,through which he stood at the helm

of his frail bark, but he gave no S ign to his colleaguesof the misgivings that must have lurked with in h is mind.For commerce had fal len upon ev i l days . On everyside he beheld the crash and wreckage of h is fel lows ,but

,i nspired by the confidence which only the knowledge

of power can bestow, he resolved to continue his struggleagainst the storm . With a brain capable of grappl ingwith huge ba lance-sheets, an almost superhuman dexteri tyi n figures being his natural gift, the work of three menwas the dai ly task of this Napoleon of commerce.Al though the members of h is firm were compelledto d ive deeply into their pockets during these haz ardousyears, to meet losses occasioned by the fai lure of cl ientsengaged in bui lding speculations

,the Berners S treet

Bank was handled so ski lful ly that i t managed toweather the storm .

I n spite of his vast abi l i ties,there was noth ing of

bombast in Fauntleroy’s nature, nor did external ev idenceshow that he was engaged in deadly warfare against theunpropit ious fates. A gentle, unas suming man, with aquiet charm of address , he won universal regard fromall with whom he came into contact. The gift of friendship, the infect ious knack of social intercourse

,was part

A FAMOUS FORGERY 18 1

Of his character. Natural ly, the circle in which hemoved was composed of persons Of refinement and

,

i n some cases, Of eminence in the commercial world .

While his hand was ever open to the cry Of d istress,

his board always had a place for those who had gainedhis esteem . All the leisure he could snatch seemeddevoted to S imple pleasures—a choice l ittle d inner toa few kindred spiri ts , a hol iday at his suburbanv il la, or a week-end visi t to his house i n Brighton.

Though his earnest, florid face might be seen Oftenbeneath the hOOd of his smart cabriolet, th is carr iagewas used princ ipally in journeys between Berners S treetand the C ity. I n S hort , few business men in Londonwere held in greater respect than th is hard-workingyoung banker, who was S O l ike the Emperor Napoleon .

Yet there was another s ide to the picture. Althoughostensibly he l ived this s imple and strenuous existence

,

a few bosom compan ions knew him in another guise.Unknown to the world, those week-end parties at hisv il la i n the suburbs were tainted and ungodly. Thesweet girl who sat at the head Of his table as mistressOf h is home had lost her maiden innocence whi le herfresh young beauty was in i ts bud, lured by the sensuousFauntleroy almost from school . All her pretty friendsbelonged to the same frai l s isterhood, Cyprians beyondquestion

,though modest perhaps in demeanour and

speech . And with these ‘ Kates and Sues ’ Of thetown came Fauntleroy’s intimates , Toms and J erries

’

unmistakably, though possibly only in travesty, becomingsober men once more in business hours.Or one might have seen him driving past the fet idPavi l ion at Brighton in h is smart carriage , with i tsfawn-coloured l in ing

,and have recognised in the shame

less features Of the flashy lady at h is side the notorious‘Corinth ian Kate ’ herself—in real l ife M rs ‘ Bang,

’

mos t ‘ slap-up Of ladybirds.’ Then , again, at h is

I S2 SOME DISTI NGU ISHED V ICT IMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

luxurious seas ide home in Western Place, with i tsconse rvatories and sumptuous bil l iard-room—draped asa facsimile OfNapoleon

's travell ing tent—h is Kate’s dearfriend H arriet Wilson , or other i l lustrious fai r ones,would come to amuse h is bachelor companions . Thus,i n h is le isure moments, the industrious Fauntleroyenjoyed secretly the l i fe Of an epicure and sensual ist.Deep-buried in h is soul the love Of v ice was everpresen t. “ There only needed one th ing to completeyour equipage

,

” he wri tes, i n plain doué/e entente thatindicates h is rul ing passion , to h is friend Sheriff Parkins,“ i nstead Of the man at your s ide

,a beautiful angel !

Marriage had meant no sowing Of wild oats to H enryFauntleroy. A mystery surrounds h is union to thedaughter Of a naval captain named J ohn Young. I tis known only that, although a son was born , the matchfrom the fi rst was an unhappy one , and an early separat ion took place . During the year OfWaterloo a liaisonwith a married lady, who had a complacent or S horts ighted husband , i ncreased the habits Of extravagancewh ich in the end brought the banker to ruin . Later

,

the pretty young girl Maria Fox , who had been educatedat a convent in F rance

,consented to become the mistress

Of his suburban home. Thus the double l i fe continued ;whi le to those who knew him only in Berners S treet

,

Mr Fauntleroy appeared the most righteous andrespec table Of men .

What was the nom inal income Of the young bankmanager i t i s imposs ible to ascerta in ; but whatever thesum , i t i s certa in that before very long h is expendi turebegan to exceed his means . Probably he took the firststep on his downward march during the year of thehej ira to E l ba. The strength and weakness Of h ischaracter combined to make the position Of Tantalusunendurable . Nothing seemed more certain than thatthe Berners S treet house, which had never recovered


184 SOME D IST I NGUISHED V ICT IMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

Narrow esca pes were inevitable. On one occas10n

he was handing over a power Of attorney for thetransfer Of stock to one of the clerks i n the ConsolsOffice at the Bank Of England, when the pe rson whose

name he had forged entered the room . Yet Fauntleroy'

saplomb did not fai l h im . As soon as he perceivedthe new-comer, he requested the clerk to return thedocument

,with the excuse that he wished to correc t

an omission . Then , having secured the paper, hewent to greet the friend whom he was about to rob,and they strolled out Of the bank together. Anotherday

, one Of his lady cl ients instructed a London brokerto sel l some stock for her. F ind ing no such investmentregistered in her name, the man cal led at Berners Streetto make inquiries . TO h is surprise the plaus ible bankerinformed him that the lady had already des ired himto effect the sale. “ And here,

” continued the smil ingFauntleroy, producing a number Of Exchequer bil ls,are the proceeds . ” Although h is customer protestedthat she had never authorised the transaction , the matterwas allowed to drop . While a friend was chattingin h is private Office he is said to have been im itati ngh is s ignature, which he took out to the counting-housebefore his compan ion had departed . One Of the las toccas ions when he vis i ted the Bank Of England was onthe sth Of January, the day on which Thurtell and Hun twere tried for the Gillshill murder. While the clerkwas credi ting the d iv idend warrants due to h is firm , thebanker conversed about the crime . I t was noted as astrange coincidence that the same clerk was one Of thewitnesses against h im .

One day in September I 824 , Mr J . D . H ulme, an

Offi c ial of the Custom House, wishing to examine a l istOf i nves tments belonging to an estate of wh ich he hadbecome a trustee, paid a vis i t to the Bank of E ngland.TO his amaz ement he found that a sum Of in

A FAMOUS FORGERY 185

Consols was missing, and inqu i ry proved that the S tockhad been sold by the Berners S treet manager under apower Of attorney . On the advice Of Mr Freshfield

,

sol ic itor Of the bank, an appl ication was made to M rConant Of Marlborough S treet, who was induced togrant a warrant for the arrest Of the suspected man .

At las t the wily Fauntleroy had been caught napping ;for although he was aware that there was a risk Ofexposure, and had made preparations to reinvest thestolen Consols, he had not yet been able to completethe transact ion .

During the whole Of Thursday n ight, Samuel Plank ,ch ief-Officer Of Marlborough S treet, finding that thebanker was away from home, paraded Berners S treetwatching for his return . On the next morn ing, the lothOf September, at h is usual hour, the grave, neatly dressedforger walked into h is place Of bus iness. A mean trickmarked the arrest. Mr Goodchild , the other co-trusteeOf the plundered estate, entered the counting-house a fewmoments before Plank , and proceeded into the privateOffice, while the constable, pretending to cash a cheque,remained at the counter. When through the half-closeddoor Of the inner room he saw that the vict im and decoywere closeted together, the pol ice-Officer pushed past theastonished clerks

,explain ing that he wanted to speak

to thei r employer. As Fauntleroy rai sed his eyes fromhis desk, and saw a warrant in the intruder

’s hand, hereal ised that the visi t Of h is friend was merely a dev iceto place him in the hand Of the law.

Good God ! exclaimed the doomed man . Cannotthis bus iness be settledAnd tradi tion relates that he Offered Plank a bribe Of

ten thousand pounds to allow him to escape. But theOffi cer proved incorruptible, and soon the banker wasstanding in the presence of his as ton ished friend ,Magistrate John Conant, who, though sore d istressed ,

186 SOME DISTI NGUISHED V ICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

was compelled to commit h im to Coldbath Fieldsprison .

“ I alone am gui lty, cried the wretched Fauntleroy,in a burst of penitence. My colleagues did not

know ! "

Like the great model whom he had striven to emulate ,the vain man had found h is Moscow. NO longer washe the dandy banker Of Berners S treet, whose friendshiphad been sought by 50 many rich men from the Ci ty.

The days Of the lavish Corinthian , the associate Of‘bang-up p inks and bloods,

’ had passed away for ever,and he had become a criminal

,stand ing beneath the

shadow Of the gallows !While Mr Freshfield, with the aid Of the constable,

proceeded to execute h is right Of search , the membersOf the firm were summoned to town . At first thecatastrophe was not appreciated to the full extent . Onthe follow ing morning the bank opened its doors, andcustomers paid and drew thei r cheques as usual .H owever, before the close Of the day the proprietorssent an announcement to the press that “ i n consequenceOf the extraordinary conduct Of their partner

,

” they haddeterm ined for the present to suspend payment .During the whole Of Monday, the I 3th Of September,

an excited throng took possession Of Berners S treetneighbouring tradesmen trembl ing for thei r deposits ;men from the City d ismayed by the wildest rumours.A force Of pol ice was deemed necessary to preven ta riot . “ Arrest Of Mr Fauntleroy

,the well-known

banker ! The amazing tid ings was upon every l ip.

A similar sensation had not been experienced in thememory Of man . S ince the days Of D r Dodd

,hal f a

century before , none S O h igh in the social scale had beenaccused Of such a crime . All the week, panic re igned inbus iness houses. I t was whispered that the defalcationswould reach half a mil l ion pounds : that the greatest


188 SOME DI STI NGU ISHED V ICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

shadow Ofthe plac id , i nscru table man Ofbusiness who hadhome his gui lty secret SO boldly and so long. There wasrather a ghastly than a l iving hue upon his counte

nance,” remarks the styl ist who reports for Tlie Times.

Al l the necessary charges be i ng proved , he was committed to N ewgate, h is removal being postponed unti lThursday

,the z I s t Of October, on the appli cation of

h is sol ici tor.Meanwhile the London press had revelled in the

case. Scarcely a day passed without a reference to the

forger or to the forgery, and there was the greates t strifeamong the various newspapers to secure the most luridreports . Many t imes we have the amusing spectacle Of

two journals belabouring each other l ike the env iouseditors in P ickwick . Even the recent crime Of J ohnThurtell—for i n th is wonderful fourth year Of hisGracious Majesty King George IV. the lucky publ icwas satiated with melodrama, while J emmy Catnach

’

s

pockets were overflowing with gold—d id not Offer suchchances of sensational reports . I t was announced toan amazed publ ic that Fauntleroy had squanderedthe proceeds Of h is forgeries i n riot and diss ipat ion .

One-half of his private l ife was d isclosed to publ ic ears ;and though some Of the newspapers were merciful

,

j ust as Others were host i le to the prisoner,one and

al l , with very few except ions, probed deep into hismurky past .Happily , there is no ev idence to justify the supposi t ion

that the partners in the Berners S treet bank—and inparticular Mr J . H . S tracey, who thi rty years latersucceeded to the baronetcy held i n turn by his fatherand h is two brothers—were responsible for the dastardlyattacks upon the defenceless man . Even had he givenno publ ic den ial to the charge, such an assumpt ion isimpossible in the cas e Of an honourable man l ike the lateS i r J osias S tracey. Moreover, the identi ty Of the pe rson


who i nspired the d isgraceful accounts i n Tlie Times andother journals is easy to discern .

This spitefu l enemy bursts upon the stage of the sadtragedy ofFauntleroy l ike the comic vi l lain ofmelodrama—too contemptible to hate, but with a humour toocrapulous for whole-hearted laughter. J oseph W i l fredParkins—elected Sheriff of London on the 24th of June18 19—appears to have been one Of the most blatant

humbugs that ever belonged to the Object ionable fami ly ofBumble. Tradition relates that he was the son of ablacksmith who l ived on the borders of I nglewood Foresti n Cumberland ; but Parkins, too proud to know fromwhence he came, preferred to pass as a bastard of theDuke of Norfolk. I n his early youth, we are told that“ he was apprenticed to a breeches-maker in Carl isle

,

but his dexterity as a workman not being commeasurate

with h is powers of digestion, a separation took place.Afterwards he sai led to Calcutta, where, assisted byletters of introduction from h is patron the Duke

,

he establ i shed a lucrat ive business. I n other ways,

according to account, he was a success in I ndia, wherehe became famous for hunting tigers with Engli sh greyhounds, and once shot a cool ie for disobeying his orders,two mi les and a half d istant

,right through the head

,

across the Ganges, and through an impenetrable j ungle !On another occas ion he claimed to have ridden starknaked in mid-day, on a barebacked horse without bridle,fifty miles in s ix hours, for a wager, and to have trottedback for pleasure without even a drink of water. Whenhe returned to his nat ive land wi th the treasures of theEast

,i t was inevitable that such a man should win

notoriety. Hav ing failed to gain the affections Of QueenCaroli ne

,who preferred Alderman Wood for a beau, he

devoted himself to O l ive Serres, Princess of Cumberland

,

’ and became her champion and l iterary col laborator.One of the ach ievements on which he most prided


himsel f was the refusal to marry a daughter of LordS idmouth

,who was most eager to become his father-in

law. Sometimes we behold h im fawning upon LordMayor W aithman and Orator Hunt. At Others, no oneexcel s h im in hurl ing abuse at these same celebri ties .During a port ion of his career a charmer namedHannah Wh i te caused him much trouble. Probablyhe enjoys the un ique honour Of being the only Sheriff

of London upon whom the Court of Common Councilhas passed a vote of censure for his conduct wh ile

in offi ce.For some years th is great Parkins was a fami l iar

friend ofH enry Fauntleroy . I have been looking outfor you in town these three or four days,

" the bankerwrites to h im in May 18 16 ,

“ as we have a dance th isevening

,and lots of pretty girls, and I know you are an

admirer of them . H owever, just after the arres t, theex-Sheriff suspected h is former assoc iate unjustly of abreach of faith , and thus became his most deadly enemy,placing his intimate knowledge of his friend

'

s habits atthe service of the hosti le press. I n order to exhibit thebanker’s depravity, he publ ished a communication fromthe fair but fra i l Corinth ian Kate, known in real l ifeas ‘Mother Bang,

’ but the context ch iefly serves toindicate that Parkins treasured a grudge because h isfr iend had never introduced him to the lady. Evenafter the criminal had received sentence h is an imosi ty didnot cease .

“ The penalty for forgery S hould be thegallows ,

” he declared at a meeting of the Berners S treetcreditors

,

“ unti l the law discovered a worse punishment.”

When the only son of the condemned man,a youth of

fifteen , wrote to the papers, pleading that mercy shouldbe shown to h is father, the vindictive ex-Sheriff dec laredin the columns of the Morning C/zronicle (as i t proved,falsely) that the boy was not the author of the appeal.N or did he scruple to print private letters from Mrs


192 SOME DIST I NGU ISHED V ICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

Convinced that h is case was hopeless, i t is sa id thatFauntleroy resolved to plead gui l ty ; but, urged by hisfriends

,and by his sol ic i tors, Messrs Forbes Harmer,

he was induced at last to abandon the i ntention .

J ames H armer,who conducted h is defence, was the

grea t criminal lawyer of his day—a prototype of MrJaggers—the prince of O ld Bailey attorneys . Amongh is cl ients were such diametrical ly opposite characters asJ oseph H unt of Gillshill fame , and lusty Sam Bamford

of Middleton . The i ncidents Of Mr Fauntleroy’

s caseOffered many opportunit ies for h is versati le talents ; andalthough he failed to teach good manners to 7 726 Timesnewspaper

,he d id much service to his age, by means

of a side i ssue,i n getting J oseph Parkins indicted for

perjury . Yet the greatest abil i t ies could do l i ttle toextenuate the Berners S treet forgeries . S ti l l

,whether or

not he had a weakness for scented soap, H armer neverfought in kid gloves, as the unfortunate Messrs Marsh ,S tracey, 8: Graham—whom he was compelled to damagein the interests of the man he defended—found to theircost . Those incl ined to accuse Charles D i ckens Ofexaggerat ion should bear in m ind that murderer Hunt

,

who chose Jaggers H armer as h is sol ic i tor, escaped thehangman’s rope

,whi le Thurtell, who employed another

lawyer,was handed over to Thomas Chesh ire.

The tr ial of Fauntleroy on Saturday, the 3oth ofOctober

,did not attract . the mob of respectables that

officialdom had anticipated . A gu inea entrance-feeproved prohibi t ive. Press and law students alonefurn ished their crowds, and the private galleries werepatronised but poorly. J oseph Park ins, eager to witnessthe humil iation of the man whom he had chosen toregard as an enemy

,was an early arrival, taking his

place at the barristers’ table In front of the dock,where

,

in ful l v iew of the prisoner, he could gloat over h is misery.

Lucki ly,Sheriff Brown , whose humani ty—l ike that Of




under a forged deed 155450 Three per cent. Conso l s,belonging to Miss F rances Young. Duri ng the speechthere comes a d isclosure amazing to everyone in courtsave the man in the dock and those who defend h im .

I n a private box found at Berners S treet after hi s arres t,a document has been discovered contain ing a l ist ofstolen securi ties . Upon th is paper, writt en and signedby the hand of Fauntleroy, and dated the 7 th Of May18 16 , are these words, which , as S ir J ohn Copley readsthem

,bewilder all h is hearers

“ I n order to keep up the credi t of our house I haveforged powers of attorney, and have thereupon sold outall these sums, without the knowledge of my partners.I have given credi t i n the accounts for the interestwhen i t became due . The Bank (of England) beganfirst to refuse our acceptances , and thereby to destroythe credi t of our house ; they shal l smart for i t.

”

Attorney-General and rest of the world are muchpuzzled

,concluding that but for unaccountable negl igence

the pr isoner would have destroyed th is seemingly incriminating document ; as though a forger woul d notprefer that h is frauds should be thought to have beenactuated rather by devotion to h is bus iness and revengeagainst the unpopular O ld Lady of Threadneedle S treetthan merely for the sake Of self-aggrandisement. “ TheBank of England S hal l smart for i t ! Were the storycredible—were Fauntleroy, i n fact, a small defaul ter—wemay well bel ieve that another fierce outcry would havearisen against the wicked Old harridan of the City.

There i s l ittle d ifficulty in prov ing the indictmen t,while the poor wretch in the dock s i ts huddled in hischair, trying vainly to conceal h is face with his handkerchief. A couple of his own clerks swear that thesignature to the deed is a forgery . Tear-sta ined M issYoung, whom most regard as the sister-in-law of theaccused man, proves that her slender store of investments



has been pi lfered . Offic ials of the Bank S how that theunhappy prisoner was the thief. There crops up acurious instance of the nai

‘

vete‘ of British jurisprudence .

For Threadneedle S treet has been obl iged to refundthe stocks belonging to M iss Young in order to makeher ‘ a competent witness,

’ lest i t might seem that shehas a motive in affi rming or denying the forgery Of thepower of attorney. Thus the O ld Lady confesses thatshe has bribed a wi tness in order that th is witness maynot be suspected of t rying to Obtain a bribeWhen Fauntleroy is called upon for h is defence

,he

manages to stagger to his feet. The law of Englandwil l not al low h is counsel to speak for him . D rawing apaper from his bosom , and wiping away the tears thatstream from his eyes, he adjusts his glasses . Then , i na clumsy, i ns incere manner, l ike a schoolboy

’s recitation,

he begins to read a long apology. I t is apparent thathe has not wri tten the speech h imself, and it makes noimpression . Commencing with a complaint against thefalse and l ibel lous accounts in the press, he S ketches thehistory Of the Berners S treet Bank in order to showthat i t has received the benefi t of the whole of h is for

geries ; describing how he alone has borne the burdenof the business and the anxiety of perilous speculations

,while h is partners have given h im no assistance.

All his frauds were accompl ished to cover commerciallosses, the withdrawal of borrowed capital , and the overdrafts of two of h is col leagues . To every one of thecharges ofprodigal ity he Offers an emphatic denial . I nconclusion

,he makes a pathet ic vindication ofhis conduct

towards h is wife,declaring that not only are the state

ments publ i shed in the newspapers false,but that She

has had always the best offeel ing towards h im.

Although j ust and merciful,the address of the judge

is host i le to the prisoner,and the jury

,who ret ire at ten

m inutes to three, return in less than a quarter Of an hour

196 SOME D I STI NGU ISHED V ICT IMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

with a verdict of gu i l ty. Exhausted with h is long ordeal ,poor Fauntleroy is incapable Of exhibi ting emotion . Avacant express ion i s stamped on his pall id features, andwhen Justice Park tel ls him that the trial is over hes inks l istlessly into his chair. Rais ing him in h is arms ,Governor Wontner supports him from the dock .

On the following Tuesday, when the convict isbrought up to hear h is doom in the N ew Court, MessrsBroderick and Alley move an arrest Of judgment oncertain technical points Of law. Justice Park, who i ssaid to have been acquainted wi th the prisoner

,does

not attend , but nei ther Baron Garrow nor the Recorderwill accept the empty but ingenuous arguments ofcounsel . The prisoner reads a paper, stating that whenhe committed the forgeries he had expected to repay themoney when his house prospered . Thus he begs formercy from the Crown . Sentence ofdeath is the reply.

After the publ ication of Fauntleroy’s defence, thepress attacks—as no doubt J aggers Harmer had foreseen—are turned against the unlucky partners. Allthe statements of the condemned man find acceptance,l ike the protests ofevery criminal , and it is bel ieved thathis colleagues must be gu il ty of compl ici ty i n the frauds.From Tfie Times comes a demand that Messrs Marsh

,

S tracey, and Graham shal l be examined before the PrivyCouncil ! A petition for reprieve i s promoted by thecreditors of the Berners S treet house, on the plea thatFauntleroy’s evidence i s necessary to elucidate theintricate accounts. Another l ies at the Office of H armer’spaper, the W eekly D ispute/é.

Condemned convicts are quartered sti l l , and for manyyears afterwards, i n the part of the prison known asthe Press Yard—a walled quadrangle

,where they are

al lowed to herd together i nd iscriminately during certainhours, adjacent to a three-storied bui ld ing contain ing aday-room and the cells i n which they are locked at night.



of the four who was a gentleman , a scholar, or a man ofartist ic taste, the only one whose fool ish egotism did notembroi l the country in a costly and bloody war, was alsothe only one with a merc iful heart. H is first great faul t,for wh ich nei ther contemporaries nor poster i ty haveforgiven him

,was infidel i ty to a dull , s i l ly, uncleanly

wife,whom he was compelled to marry against h is

wi l l,and who was nothing loth to pay him back in h is

own coin . H i s next, that, l ike the Duke Of Well ingtonand his brother Will iam , he was a l ion among theladies . George IV . i s i ncl ined to save Fauntleroyfrom the scaffold , j ust as he wished to save all exceptthe murderer.Every effort fai ls

,however, and on Wednesday n ight,

after a meeting of the Privy Council,the Recorder sends

h is report to Newgate . At half-past S ix the Rev.

Cotton,whose duty i t i s to break the news of thei r fate

to the prisoners, proceeds to Fauntleroy’

s room . Thebanker

,who is reading

,looks up as the O rd inary enters

,

and,Observing that he is deeply affected, “ Ah

,Mr

Cotton , I see how i t is ,” he exclaims. I expected nothing

less than death,and

,thank God, I am resigned to my

fate. During the rest of the day he seems moreconcerned for the doom of J oseph H arwood—a lad ofeighteen

,condemned to die the next morn ing for steal ing

half a crown from the pocket of a drunken I r ishmanthan for h is own dismal s i tuation . Worn out withsuspense

,he does not awake unt i l a late hour on Thursday

,

and thus sleep spares him the anguish Of hearing theawful hell that is added to the torments Of those whogo to the scaffold innocent Of murder.On Friday

,Miss Fox comes to bid him farewel l,

bringing with her, so Tbe Times reports, “ two lovelybabes , both g irls, Of the ages of eighteen months andthree years , and both also i n deep mourn ing.

” Anotheroccasion , i ndeed, for the modern reader to exclaim


Cruel, l ike the grinding of human heart s under mil lS tones . ” One ofthat time th inks so —Edmund Angel ini

,

a craz y teacher of languages, who the same day makesappl ication to the Lord Mayor that he may be allowedto mount the scaffold instead ofFauntleroy.

On Saturday, the miserable wife pays her last v isi t .Previously She has made a desperate attempt to reachimplacable Peel— fainting in h is hall—which brings fromthe Home Secretary “ a kind message.” AfterwardsShe str ives to speak with Lady Conyngham

,who pleads

inabil i ty to assist, conscious, no doubt, that al thoughshe can mould divme right, her charms are powerlessagainst the incorruptible cal ico-printer. Angel ini , sti llfi l led with lust for the rope, but whose logic has madeno impress ion on the Lord Mayor, comes hammeringat Newgate door, and succeeds in gain ing an interviewwith Ordinary Cotton , whom ,

perhaps,he regards

judging by appearances—as J ack Ketch’s commandingOfficer.With the Sabbath comes gala-day and the ‘

con

demned sermon .

’ The partners of J aggers Harmer, byname Forbes and Mayhew, are humane enough to S it

with Fauntleroy in the ostentat ious sable pew reservedfor doomed convicts, and the good Samaritans Baker andS pringett, supporting their charge with kind hands,take their seats wi th the dismal company. AbductorWakefield has left a graphic p icture of an entertainmentsimilar to this . The rude, uns ightly chapel, near akini n more than appearance to the dissecting-room in O ldSurgeons’ H al l

,and with no more semblance of hol iness

than the court at Bow S treet,i s packed with prisoners,

gay and careless sight-seers, the pomp Of sheriffdom andattendant lackeys . Hymns are bellowed, in h ideousblasphemy

,beseech ing divine mercy to S how good

example to the creatures i t has moulded in i ts own image.Prayers are mumbled, and heeded as l i ttle by the gallows


gaz ing throng as the showman’s horn by children whopant eagerly for the puppet-show. The hangman’sprologue—the sermon—i s what al l desire, and everything else i s of no account . At last the Rev. Cotton ,smug and resolute i n white gown

,mounts the lofty pulp i t,

and the Sheriffs attempt to screw their courage to facethe ordeal . The O rdinary is in h is finest form . On theprev ious Sunday he had shattered the nerves Of the boyHarwood

,and had sent ‘ a female -condemned to die

for a paltry theft—i nto hysterics a fortn ight ago . Scenesl ike these make the condemned sermon attractive. Today the d iscourse is a stupid plagiarism Of the J acobitedoctrine of passive res istance, but the bank

’s charter,

and not d ivine right , is Cotton’s fet ish . While lauding

the humanity of “ the greatest commerc ial establ ishmenti n the world ,

” he displays his want ofaccuracy and legalknowledge by praising the d irectors for having replacedthe stolen investments , as they had not yet done , butwere bound by law to do.

“ I deprecate that feel ing,

”

he declaims, “ which is artful ly and improperly exci tedin favour of those who have no extraordinary claim to

mercy. When monstrous crimes have been committedwe have a right to call for j udgment on criminals

,and to

consign them to the fate the law demands . Offences aresometimes brought to l ight which require the most severechast isement the law can infl ic t, and discoveries Of sucha nature have been made in reference to the unhappyindividual to whom I shal l more particularly addressmyself,

” etc., etc. Upon the l imp , shrinking figure in thelarge black pew , whose poor throbbing brain is piercedthrough and through by the barbed words Of the holyman , al l eyes are turned , save a few bl inded with tears,or those wretches of both sexes who testify by sobs andhowls that a l ike fate is their portion . Even in theleathern faces and soulless eyes of the grim turnkeysthere gl immers a tiny spark of emotion. I t i s pleasant



are knocked off previous to the march to the scaffold .

About they conduct him to the Upper CondemnedRoom

,

’ and here h is favouri te hymn is sung—“ Godmoves i n a mysterious way —and he partakes of thesacrament . From the numerous confl icting reports i tmay be gathered that Sheriff Brown and h is ghastlytrain—for Alderman Key did not care to be presentattend thei r vict im at a quarter to eight. At the end ofthe long stone chamber, dimly l ighted by two candles,a smal l group is huddled before the fire—the Rev .

Cotton administering plati tudes, Baker and S pringett

on each side Of the prisoner with their arms l inkedin h is . Fauntleroy is standing firmly i n easy pose ,

although his senses seem benumbed as if under theinfluence Of a narcotic, and he bows sl ightly to theSheriff, who addresses h im in a few k indly words . TheO rd inary—clever stage-manager—seizes the opportun i tyto draw the criminal a pace or two apart, and the Officers,taking the s ignal, come behind , and commence to placetheir ropes around his arms. For a moment he seemsterrified , and l ike a hunted animal shri nks for refugeto h is two faithful fr iends, who gently place his handsacross h is breast, while the attendants pin ion h is elbowswith their cords .The clock of S t Sepulchre—ominous name —strikes

the hour. With a solemn incl ination of h is head towardsthe convict the Sheriff moves forward

,followed by the

wh i te-robed Cotton . Then comes the hapless banker,supported by Baker and S pringett. With t ightly closedeyes and mechan ical steps

,as though his nerves were

dead and his senses steeped in torpor,he moves almost

as an automaton . Through the long vaulted passages,where the tread of footsteps seem to beat a funeralmarch to the grave, down cold , steep stai rs and alongdamp, cavernous windings, amidst a gloom made morefearful by the red glare of scanty lamps

,the procession


crawls onward . AS i t reaches the gate of the longcorridor leading into the high , square lobby, from whencethe Debtors’ Door opens upon the street, the O rdinarycommences the serv ice for the dead . At the sound of

the harsh words the wretched sufferer starts,and clasps

and unclasps h is hands . NO other s ign of emotionmarks his bearing ; and even when the boom of thepass ing bel l smites the startled ears of his companions,and their footsteps, as though stayed , pause for amoment involuntari ly, he Shows no S ign Of consciousness .

Across the lofty stone hall,and under the gate Of the

S laughter-house, the Sheriff and the Ordinary passonward. There is a rush of chill, moist a i r throughthe Open door, the bare wooden stairs reverberate withthe tread of feet, and in another moment Fauntleroy,s till supported by his friends

,i s standing upon the

platform in the open street beneath the frowning wallof O ld Bailey. I nstantly every head i n the densecrowd is uncovered . Yet this i s not a token of respectfor a dying man, but a time-honoured custom, so thatthe v iew of those in the rear may not be obscured .

With eyes S t i l l closed, and his face turned towardsN ewgate S treet, Fauntleroy moves under the cross-bar.Physical exhaustion is fast conquering him, and theOfficial s hasten their task . I n a moment the cap isS l ipped over his head

,while Baker, accustomed to these

scenes,speaks to him in earnest prayer. The halter is

placed round h is neck, and the loathly creature, whoseexpert hands have finished pawing their v ict im , gl idesswiftly from the scaffold. The Rev . Cotton cont inuesto read from his book, but his eyes steal s idewaysfurt ively, and he throws a glance of meaning uponthe man who has descended. An instant later, theOrdinary passes a handkerchief across his l ips . I t isthe s ignal ! There is a crash of fall ing timber, and to


those in the street Fauntleroy appears to drop throughthe platform as far as his knees, and hangs swayingfrom the strong black beam wh ich holds the cord thatis gripping him by the throat. The bowstring of theunspeakable Turk i s a more art ist ic but not a morecruel death .

The performance was an immense success, for a morestupendous throng had never gathered round the blackwalls OfNewgate . Over one hundred thousand personswere sa id to have witnessed the entertainment , and re

served seats in the houses commanding a view ofDebtors’

Door had been booked far in advance. At the K ingof Denmark ’ i n the O ld Bailey the sum Of fourteensh i l l ings was charged for a place ; whi le at W ingrav e

’

s

eating-house and at Luttman’

s,which were exactly

Oppos i te ‘ the drop,

’ the price was as h igh as one pound.

“ Many respectable-looking females, says the Morning

P ost,

“ were present at the windows , al l atti red in deepblack. A line Of large waggons , hackney-coachesand cabriolets

,al l of which reaped a rich harves t,

stretched from the corner of Giltspur S treet and N ewgate to Skinner’s S treet

,Snowhil l

,and every housetop

was overflowing with hol iday-makers.I t was a bitterly cold morn ing

,with icy rain-storms

and a chil l mist,so the resolute thousands thoroughly

deserved the enjoyment for wh ich they set at defianceal l the i lls Of the flesh . Most careful precaut ions weretaken to avoid a repet i tion of the Haggerty-Hollowaytragedy , when the mob saved J ames Botting—thatworthy soul whose latter days were distressed by v is ionsof ‘ parties in n ightcaps wi th their heads on one sidean i nfin i te deal of trouble by trampl ing to death somefifty of i ts fel lows . S ix huge barriers stretched acrossNewgate S treet at the corner of the prison , and therewere two intermediate ones

,to break the press

,between

that place and the scaffold ; more were erected at the


0 sh in It not Inga-mm me, Lean].B et In use mu: m.

Peutmrof lk Pmnds ofnrP

Thu org-wryout“not to t

DIM Imb Bo th. ( in 9 days)“

Jet-L9

ch a un t

CATNACH’S BROADS IDE OF FAUNTLEROY’S E! ECUTION .

a I ! peda l mthmg [cu than death. andchu n he to b ad I m magna ! tomy fa t\u ,

"Ind MrLotto-1 the Regan in ful l

19 3011.d (nut andM tt ’e that you are precd He IlIenmqmrrd when be r w in!MrCot ton told Imn than Toa d. m the

!lav om it ted for In; excu md’n 'cfya d!

"

a nd lit .“ l (h ul l br an dy It n ods! that when

I opcoed tha t bookol‘pa yers Inc l: wougat e 111me. no doubt for the pu pa-e of fict pu myth ought .pon input-( too rlOll thanMe, ex

.fi ly 1111upon the “00110. ‘Alnughty (Md 31110me gu ce andm p h 111 speed Ibu llou t tune“u n to live. a. t u mm andmake me ac

“

e h ker thcr rtd n pn er m4!

N rTm lb tnyan d, to rot er l cherr‘fnlto“ ,

It I berm.my dear 51mm: ”bod-I !be.



and al tering the denominations Of the Old famil iarblue stamps .

Fauntleroy’

s doom was so thoroughly recognised as

wel l meri ted,

” writes M r Thornbury , sternly, about fortyyears after the event

,

“ that although in 1832 everyother kind of forger was exempted by law from thegal lows, the hands of the hangman sti l l hovered over theforger Of wills and powers of attorney to transfer stock.

”

Yet,since the penalty was never infl icted , th is argument

appears superfluous.Fauntleroy certainly is the pri nce of forgers

,as tru ly

as Jack Sheppard is the greatest Of prison-breakers andGeorge Barrington the finest genius among pickpockets .Although driven to crime in the first instance by moralcowardice and craving for self-indulgence

,he must have

possessed an almost Napoleon ic confidence that h isabil it ies would conquer misfortune. TOO proud to surrender the terrible struggle , he refused to adopt the easyalternative of fl ight to France with h is i l l-gotten gains.When one tr ies to real ise the stupendous task of manipulating figures of such magnitude for so many years , thebrain reels . The regular payment ofhuge dividends lestthe v ict ims should become aware of the ir loss, the constant replacement Of stock when discovery seemed tothreaten

,the repeated buying and sel l ing in order to rob

Peter to-day to pay Paul to-morrow, the da ily juggl ingwith the books

,and adjustment ofbalances , added to the

incessant v igilance lest the errors ofa few figures shouldmean betrayal to partners or clerks—al l these wonderfultransactions S how an example of mathemat ical legerdemain such as the world has seldom seen . When i t i sborne in m ind that the man was playing for nearly tenyears with sums amount ing in the aggregate to half am i l l ion S terl ing, his t i tl e to the incomparable forger of al lt ime cannot be challenged . But l ike many another whohas contributed to the publ ic amusement, his memory

A FAMOUS FORGERY

soon faded from the minds of al l save his cred itors.

Scarcely had the curtain been rung down on the tragedyof Fauntleroy , when it rose again upon the entranc ingdrama Of accommodating M iss Foote and waywardMr ‘ Pea-green ’

H ayne.Occasionally, but not Often, we hear mention of the

banker'

s name, and there was a recent reference to i t i none of the del ightful novels ofAnthony Hope.

“ I t i s no longer a capital Offence,declares ribald

Arty Kane , referring to forgery, and addressing charmingPeggy Ryle you won’t be hanged in si lk knee-breechesl ike Mr Fauntleroy.

”

P art 11.—S ome Details of fee Forgeries.

N0 complete balance-Sheet Of the Marsh-S tracey bank The Be

ruptcy appears to exist. The books of the firm seem tohave baffled both the Commiss ioners and the assignees ;and SO artful ly had Fauntleroy concealed h is frauds

,that

even Skil led accountants d id not succeed in unravell ingthe whole of their mysteries . Contemporary newspapersfurnish many important clues, but their statements, whennot confl icting, are neither lucid nor exhaustive. Yet,although many details must remain obscure

,i t i s possible

to form a rough conception of the result .S ince we know that the first d iv idend of 3s . 4d. in the The pos

pound (distributed to the credi tors on the 7 th Ofln’

Ziikc

iiI’

February 1825) absorbed a sum of i t is clearthat Messrs Marsh

,S tracey Company required a grand

total of 5 to pay twenty sh i ll ings in the pound .

Practical ly these figures are substantiated by the prel im inary accounts presented at the meet ing of the Commissioners on the 18th Of December 1824, wh ich statethat the claims against the firm—exclud ing any l iab i l i tyto the Bank of England—amount to 1;5

208 SOME D I ST INGU ISHED VICT IMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

This est imate, however, is the only one ofany accuracymade at the time , for the assets expected to be real isedfel l very S hort of the original calculation . A seconddividend of 3s . 4d. was received by the cred itors on the

3oth of August 1825, and between that date and theappointment of the Offic ial ass ignee a further sum of

was d istributed. Thus the total of the firstthree d ividends—which were equ ivalent to 85 . 4d. i nthe pound—amounts toThe bankruptcy return of Patrick J ohnson (Offic ial

ass ignee ), publ ished in 1839 , shows that assets were collected subsequently amounting to and thusthe cred i tor s ide of the Berners S treet ledger appears tohave reached a total OfF rom th is balance of —real ised by the

Official assignee after the payment of the first threed ividends—further distr ibut ions of 5d. and I S . (being 9 5.

9d. i n the pound in all ) were made respectively on the23rd of December 1833 and the 9 th Of September1835, and absorbed further sums of 155. and

16 8

During September 1835 the claim Of the Bank of

England against Messrs Marsh , S tracey Company wascomprom ised for a payment of in cash ; and afurther sum of£ 1 for the expenses of working theCommiss ion of Bankruptcy from the 16 th of September1824 to the end of the year 1833 must also be deducted.

Therefore a balance of — less any further costs—appears to have remained for payment Of a final d ividend . Although many of the newspapers state that th iswas made on the 7 th Of October 1837 , unfortunately noneOf them g ive any part iculars. Yet i t may be conj ecturedthat the unfortunate customers of the Berners S treetBank

,after waiting for thirteen years, could not have

received more than 105 . 6d. i n the pound.


2 10 SOME DIST I NGU ISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

Although i t would be diffi cu l t,with any degree of

accuracy,to apport ion under the separate charges th is

adverse balance of over half a mil l ion pounds, and

although much must be left to conjecture, i t is possibleto explain some ofthe ways in wh ich th is vast sum wasdissipated . At the outset, the suggestion—aris ing outof one of the pleas of Fauntleroy, and be l ieved at thetime—that the overdraft on loans to two of the partnerswas respons ible for a deficit of is refuted bythe fact that both Messrs Marsh and Graham refundedeventual ly thei r Obl igations to the ful l extent . I n l ikemanner , the bel ief that large sums were lost owing tothe necessi ty of rei nvesting constantly the various stockssold by Fauntleroy in order to avoid detection

,overlooks

the fact that, on the other hand, these transactions musthave afforded similar opportun i ties for making a profit.I t i s probable that many such losses d id occur ; butsince we may bel ieve that the Berners S treet Bank priorto the forgeries was earning an income of £7000 ayear

,i t is l ikely that such an astute manager as H en ry

Fauntleroy would be able to cancel many of these lossesthrough reinvestment by the profi ts he earned on theimmense capi tal he had secretly appropriated .

Although the forger’

s estimate Of the result Of hisbuilding speculat ions is extravagant

,the newspapers of

“5° the 20th of December 18 24 make i t clear that the BernersS treet house must have lost in this mannerI t is certain also that immense sums were absorbed bythe payment of d ividends to the proprietors whose stockshad been stolen . N early £7000 per annum must havebeen required for th is purpose from the year 18 16 ,

andthe sum would accumulate at compound interest, unti l,as some say , an annual fund of was required.

Setting as ide al l excessive calculations,we have the

great authori ty of the h istorian Of the Bank of Englandthat 1;9000 to a year was thus expended during

A FAMOUS FORGERY 2 1 1

the progress of the forgeries. Further than this, not

withstanding that the partners i n the bankrupt firmwere not enti tled to any fract ion of profi t, the testimonyOf almost the enti re press credi ts each Of them withreceiving an income Of over £3000 . At the examination Of Will iam Marsh , reported in the newspapers Of theI st of March 1825, i t was proved that he was indebtedon his private account for an overdraft of As (e) Lothere is no reason to believe that Mr S tracey or Mr£nGraham had enjoyed a smaller income

,a further defic it $22e

of nearly is the resul t. And finally,as wil l be222

0

11:shown , there is an overwhelming weight of evidence toprove that the in iquitous H enry Fauntleroy, during the (d) Fanineteen years he was a partner, diss ipated at least

I n addition , the repayment of the capitalOf S i r J ames S ibbald (who died the 1 7 th of September

which formed a large port ion Of —thecapital of the firm in 18 14

—Would swell the adversebalance sti l l further. Leaving th is out of the question

,

the facts stated above explain the deficit Ofand with the mater ial at our d isposal any further solutionwould involve a more elaborate use of the methodsOf conjecture.When Fauntleroy made his famous declaration from To w

ga

tent ithe dock

,he was endeavouring to refute the extravagant Faunue

assertion that he had spent a sum Of ov er’

four hundred $3535thousand pounds in r iotous l iving ; and thus, led to the BiggieOpposite extreme , he made the mistake of attempting toconvey an erroneous impress ion Of h is frugal i ty. Thusthe statement that he had never enjoyed any advantagebeyond that in which all h is partners had part icipatedseems to h int economy but as Mr Marsh had overdrawnhis loan account by the proposition is i rrelevantto the argument . Then , again, he confesses that theB righton villa cost £400,

but he is not candid enoughto admit the expenses of h is other establ ishments. The

2 12 SOME DISTI NGU ISHED VICT IMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

S tern real i ty—that a th ief cannot justi fy the expenditureof one pennyworth of stolen property—never en teredh is mind. U tterly false

,however

,i s h is answer to the

charges of profligacy—outrageous though they were.“ I t has been cruel ly asserted ,

” he declares,“ that I

fraudulently invested money in the Funds to answer thepayment of annu it ies amounting to £2200 settled uponfemales. I never d id make such investment

”

N0 s ingle tenet i n Father Garnet’s doctrine of equivocation puts greater stress upon the truth . Whoevermade the necessary investments—and the forger wasshrewd enough not to let the transaction appear in hisown name—there is certain evidence that he providedlavishly for his m istress Maria Fox. The l ie is merelyconcealed in subtle language.

“ Nei ther at home nor abroad,continues Fauntleroy,

have I any investment, nor i s there one s

secretly depos i ted by me in the hands of any humanbeing.

Such an assertion goes far beyond the sophistry ofthe most m isgu ided seventeenth-century J esuit

,for the

Commissioners of Bankruptcy were soon to discoverthat he had squandered thousands on h is friend Mrs

D isney. H i s one denial in unequivocal terms is adel iberate falsehood .

“ Equally ungenerous and untrue it i s,the forger

proceeds, “ to charge me with having lent to loose and

disorderly persons large sums of money which neverhave and never wil l be repaid . I len t no sums butto a very trifl ing amount, and those were advanced tovalued friends . ”

NO doubt this last declaration had reference to therumour that he had squandered money upon thenotorious Mary , Ann Kent ‘Mother Bang ’—whofigures as ‘ Corinthian Kate in L ife in London—andits t ruth or falsehood must depend upon the exact


2 14 SOME DISTI NGU ISHED V ICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

the house at Fulham was one of his later extravagances,there were others that had taken i ts place previously.

The v i l la, land and furn iture at Brighton , sold afterh i s death

,real ised nearly £7000—the residence alone is

said to have cost h im th is amount ; and s ince he wasthe owner of a mews and s ix houses i n Bryanston

h Id Square,and two other houses in York S treet, his freehold

property,on a moderate estimate , must have been worth

From the reports of the trial of Maria Fox at theLewes Assizes in April 182 7 , we gather that Fauntleroysettled on h is youthful mistress £6000 , bes ides anannui ty Of £ 150,

“of which the assignees , said J ohn

Adolphus,her counsel , “ through the adv ice Of a worthy

gentleman,Mr Bolland , were not so cruel as to deprive

ria Fox her. Thus another i s added to the banker’sdebtDuring the month of December 1824 the London

papers are full Of ins inuat ions with regard to Fauntleroy’

s

improper connection with a Mrs James C . D i sney, andthe letter from the lady

’

s husband , which appeared inthe N ew Times on the 24th of December

,substantiates

unwitt ingly much Of the truth of the story. I t is certainthat the creditors ofMarsh , S tracey Company recoveredlarge sums from th is Mrs D isney, who had been therec ipient of Fauntleroy’s bounty to an extent exceed ing thel im i ts Of platon ic love, and according to Tbe Times the

5 J. C. amount refunded was Although many reportsstate that She received twice th is sum , i t is sufficient forthe purpose to accept the lesser figures .Thus there is almost complete evidence that

Fauntleroy’s expenditure under three heads—domesticexpenses, freehold property, and the two mistressesabove ment ioned—absorbed a sum of I t isnot unreasonable to suppose that the man who couldsquander th is money in less than seventeen years

,whi le

A FAMOUS FORGERY

his firm was in so dire a pl ight, was capable of spendingdouble the amount. I t is improbable that h is variousestabl ishments cost h im no more than £2000 a year ; andif The Times of the I st of December i s to be bel ieved, heconfessed that he had enjoyed a very much larger income.The age of pinks and bloods was as extravagant asour own, and many luxuries Of l ife were more expens ive.Fauntleroy was a patron of ‘ Corinth ian Kate ’

; and ifPierce Egan is an authority, we may conjecture—in spiteOf her denial to J oseph Park ins—that the unfortunatebanker found her an expensive luxury . Like the greatman whom he took a pride in fancying he resembled

,

i t i s notorious that the forger had a weakness for whath is contemporaries termed ‘ ladyb irds,

’ and was in thisrespect a diss ipated and worthless fel low. Moreover, hewas celebrated for h is costly d inners and rare wines— thereis the grisly story of the friend who urged him as a lastrequest to tel l where he purchased h i s exquis i te curacoa—and he seems to have denied h imself no luxury.

AAlthough i t is not possible to give a complete explanation of Fauntleroy’s expenditure during the years ofh israce to ru in, i t i s satisfactory to know some port ion Ofthe deta i ls, and they S how

,through al l poss ible coats

of wh itewash, that he was guil ty of the most prodigalextravagance.S ince the partners of the Berners S treet Bank were The co

censured for gross negl igence in two courts of law, i t i s 323331not surprising that their credi tors should have treatedthem with intolerance. At first the publ ic had regardedthem as unfortunate dupes

,and i t was not unti l Fauntle

roy had made his defence that a popular outcry arose.I t seemed incredible that three men of the world shouldhave thrown the heavy burden of managing a firm ,

weighed down by embarrassments, upon the shouldersofa youth Of twenty-two, and equally preposterous that,i n the face of losses reach ing into hundreds of thousands,

2 16 SOME DIST I NGU ISHED V ICT IMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

the young man’s colleagues should have remained easy,

trusting,asleep . Yet, i n spite of the onslaught of the

London press , and the clamour of the noisy credi tors,

headed by J oseph Parkins and his fel lows, benea th theroof of the Boar and Castle ’ and the ‘ Freemasons

’

Tavern,

’ i t i s certa in that Messrs Marsh , S traceyGraham were innocent Of al l gu i l ty compl ic i ty i n thei r

partner’s frauds . The statements that had aroused the

storm against them proved to be baseless or exaggerated.

I t has been shown that the Berners S treet Bank did notlose i n bui ld ing speculations between 18 10 and18 16 , as Fauntleroy suggested, and to meet the loss thatdid occur a large sum was raised by the supporters ofthe firm , to which Will iam Marsh contributedThus

,cons idering the reticence of thei r manager

,there

was good reason why the partners should bel ieve thatthey had weathered the financ ial panic which brought toruin so many oftheir contemporaries.Modern commerce estimates more accurately the value

of youth than the age ofMr Walter the Second and asyoung Fauntleroy

,who was one of the smartest bank

managers in London , accepted his responsibil it ies withz est and cheerfulness, i t is not surpris ing that he becamethe autocrat of the firm . Moreover, the juggler whocould dece ive the clerks working at h is elbow day byday would have no d ifficul ty in satisfying the periodicalcuriosi ty of sleeping-partners. Fat profi ts rol led intotheir coffers, and , l ike many another good easy man , theydid not pause to look a gift horse i n the mouth . Foolsthey were, and must remain, but in the end the worldceased to suspect their honour.S ti l l

,their credul i ty was remarkable . All three of

them appear to have been the instruments of most of thefrauds, attending at the Bank Of England to make thetransfer under the forged powers of attorney, and instructing brokers to dispose of the stolen stocks and bonds.


2 18 SOME DISTI NGU ISHED V ICT IMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

and thus the Bank was driven to depend upon the stockholders . S ince the claim Of half a m ill ion was compromised for a payment of we may concludethat the majority of the Berners S treet credi tors werenot disposed to assist the r ival claimant to a share oftheir d ividends .

msfcrof Much has been written of the lax methods of transferring stock i n vogue at the Bank Of England . Asthe frauds were SO slovenly that Fauntleroy

’s clerkshad no difficul ty in detecting the i r employer’s handwrit ing in the s ignature attached to the forged power Ofattorney produced at the trial , i t i s plain that the crimescould not have continued for so many years unlessa most careless system had prevai led . The BernersS treet swindle showed that i t was poss ible for anyappl icant with whom the clerks at the Consols Officewere acquainted to complete the transfer Of anotherperson

’

s securi ties,provided only that he possessed a

knowledge of the exact value of the part icular stockhe wished to appropriate. A power of attorney seemsto have been as read i ly acted upon as Obtained

,and no

comparison of the real owner’s s ignature appears tohave been made. This danger was pointed out subse

quently at a meeting of the Court of Proprietors,and

a shareholder made the wise suggest ion that when anytransfer was made immed iate notice should be sent tothe proprietor of the stock .

Yet checks and precaut ions did exist at the BankOf England in the days of H enry Fauntleroy. Thepurchasers of securit ies were recommended to protectthemselves from fraud by accepting themselves— thati s to say, by signing—al l transfers of stock made tothem , thus g iving the offic ial s of the Bank the Oppor

tunity of compar ing the handwriting of the proprietorwhenever necessary. S ti l l , the investing publ ic rarelycomplied w ith th is regulation

,and Fauntleroy must

A FAMOUS FoRGERv 2 19

have been aware that there was no danger of detect ionon th is account.Although forgery of such a description is more

difficul t i n these days, yet prudence should neglect nosafeguard that does not impede the business of everyday life . A signature, however much resemblance i thas to i ts original , may stil l be a forgery, and personalattendance might be simulated by a bold and plausiblescoundrel . The most sure precaution is the one suggested on the 1 7 th of September 1824 by the namelessproprietor

,that whenever a transfer is lodged immed iate

notice S hall be sent to the holder of the stock.

FAUNTLEROY AND TH E NEWSPAPERS

Under the leadership of the famous John B lack , this paper had become asomewhat fat and stodgy production, savouring of the ‘ unco guid .

’ I t isfierce in its attacks upon Fauntleroy’s partners for their indolence and carelessness

,and pleads that mercy shall be shown to the offender. Special prominence

is given to the pious conversations alleged to have taken place in Newgatebetween the prisoner and his spiritual advisers Messrs Springett and Baker.S ince this paper is not hostile to Fauntleroy , i t is strange that it should publish(November 1 1) a vile communication from his enemy J. W . Park ins, anex~ ShcrifTof London , in which the writer tries to Show that the prisoner who i sawaiting his trial has been a brutal husband . The first announcement that theBank in Berners Street had suspended payment appears in the co lumns of theClzrom

'

cle on Monday, September 13.

Al though the Morning Post makes a point of pluming itself on i ts humanitytowards Fauntleroy, its attitude is wholly Inconsisten t and double-faced . Havingcopied from TIre Times a column of disgracefu l news concern ing the private Vicesof the dishonest banker, i t tu rns round and upbraids i ts contemporary , a fewweeks later, for supplying the information . Foolish letters upon al l kinds ofsubjects from Fauntleroy’s bitter enemy, J . W . Park ins—Sheriff of London18 19—20—disfigure this paper constantly. The Post gloats over the scene at theDebtors’Door , and is glad that there was no pardon .

3. TIre Morning Herald.

This jou rnal is opposed to the death penalty for forgery , and inse rts severalletters, urgi ng that the convict should be reprieved , but it admits, after theexecution, that while the law remained unaltered there were no special circumstances in the case to warrant mercy. The report of the t rial on Novembe r 1,which holds up to ridicule the absurd and indecorous conduct of ex-S herifl'

Parkins previous to the meeting of the Court , fu rnishes a striking proof of hismal ice against his former friend Henry Fauntleroy. During Apri l 1823 thenotorious Parkins made a somewhat feeble attempt to assault M r Thwaites ofthe Morn ing Herald in his office , which is the reason, no doubt , why the editorhandles him so roughly.

The att itude of the greates t paper in the world towards the unfortunatebanker is a black record in its history. Although the man was a sensualist anda forger of the highest degree , i t is not cred i table to B ri tish j ournalism of thosedays that a leading newspaper should take infinite pains to rake up everyscanda l of his past l ife, and to prej udice the public mind against him before he


222 SOME D I ST I NGUISHED V ICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

The value of this assertion may be tested by reference to the columns of theB ritish Press of the following dates —September 20, 29 , October 6 , November13, 15, 17 , 22, 23, 30 ,

December to, 13, 17 , 20, January 17 , 19 ,20, February 2

,March 1 , 19, Apri l 11, July 25, Augus t 31

For further parti culars of the bank ruptcy consu l t The Times , Morn ing Post,

and Morn ing Chronicle of December 24 , 1833 ; and Se ptember 10 and 1 1,

1835. Also john B ull, September 20, 1835 the W eekly Dispatch , September17 , 1837 ; and The Times, October 7 , 1837 .

8. The Examiner .

The statements in Fauntleroy’s defence are received wi th incredulity .From what we hear and obse rve of the man ," says the Examiner , in a lead ingarticle

,we do not believe he would have risked his l ife to preserve a trad ing

concern of which he had on ly a fourth share . We expect the truth will be thathe began to forge to get money for himse lf, and was obl iged to go on becausebankruptcy would have led to his detection.” The leader proceeds to condemnthe law of banking, and to attack the monopoly of the Bank .

9 . The Observ er .

The veteran Sunday journal—which at this period was the property ofWm. Clement , who owned also the Morning Chron icle, and afterwards B ell'sLife—takes the bulk of i ts repo rts, l ike most of the week ly papers, from the

columns of the dai ly press.

This hardy newspaper (which age cannot wither) condemns the criminalcode that makes forgery a capital offence, and charges Messrs Marsh ,S tracey and G raham with previous knowledge of their par tner’s gui lt . OnOctober 10 appeared the famous letter from malignant ex-Sheriff Parkin s,complaining that Fauntleroy or his partners had surrendered certain privatedocuments which he had left at their bank in safe custody . In those days theS unday Times was under the proprietorship of i ts founder, Daniel Harvey.

1 1. The Englishman .

A weekly paper, containing reports similar to those in the Observer.

12. B ell’s W eeh{yMessenger .

The leading article of December 5 expresses the hope that Mr Fauntleroywill be the last person executed for forgery . As a matter of fact the B ernersStreet frauds postponed this much-desired reform

,and the il logical argument of

Geo rge II I . was revived in another shape I f Dr. Dodd is pardoned,then

the Perreaus have been murdered. Captain John Montgomery would have beenhanged on July 4 , 1828 , for forging bank notes , had he not cheat ed thegallows by the aid of prussic acid Joseph Hunton , the Quaker, suffered deathat Newgate on December 8 following, for issuing counterfeit bil ls of exchangeand Thomas Maynard

,who had obtained money from the Custom House under

a fraudulent warrant, was executed in the same place on the last day of the year1829 . After this date

,al though the capital penalty was not final ly abo lished

until 1837 , no other person was hanged for forgery in this country .

13. B ell’s W eekly Dispatch .

This newspaper,founded in 1801—five years after his W eehly Alessenger

by John Bel l , the printer of the B ritish Poets, had now become the property ofJames Harmer the O ld Bailey attorney

,who was Faun tleroy’s so l icitor. The

FAUNTLEROY AND THE NEWSPAPERS 223

scathing attacks upon Joseph Wi lfred Parkins, which appear in this journalon October 3, October 10 and November 14, exp lain the reason of the! ! ! S herifi

’

s animosity towards the unfortunate banker.Some time before

the arrest of the forger, Parkins, who had a law -suit pending, requestedFauntleroy to return a certain cheque for £6000 that he had drawn upon hisfi rm a few years previously. The reply was that

,as it could not be found

,

probably i t had been destroyed. On the strength of th is statement , Parkinsswore in the witness-box on September 13, when his action was being tried ,that the cheque in dispute had never been presented

,but to his amaz ement and

consternation the missing piece of paper was produced in Court. In cousequence, he not only lost his case, but was cal led upon to stand his t ria l forperjury on December 20 fol lowing. By some means or other wily JamesHarmer, who happened to be sol icitor for the defendants against whom Parkinswas bringing his action, had discovered the cheque at the Berners Street Banksoon after Fauntleroy’s arrest, and perceiving i ts importance to his cl ients,had appropriated it. Naturally, this amusing piece of strategy was not relishedby the choleric ex-Sheriff, who cast most of the blame upon the shoulders ofthe unhappy banker

,and pursued him to the death without mercy.

The W eehly Dispatch made a great effort to save the doomed man , and thepetition for reprieve which lay at its office received three thousand signatures.The Rev. Cotton

,O rdinary of Newgate, comes in for some well-deserved

censure for the tone of his Condemned Sermon .

’

14. Pierce Egan’s Lifi in London .

This paper,sta rted February 1, 1824, by the creator of Tom andferry,

gives extracts, copies for the most part from other sources, and similar information to that contained in Pierce Egan’s account .

15. john B ull.

Natural ly, Theodore Hook’s paper did not miss the opportunity of inveigh

ing against The Times for its cruelty towards Fauntleroy, or of ridiculing thesanctimonious articles of the Mornzng Ch ronicle. Stil l, it is unjust to Mrs Fry’sfriend and helper, the humane M r Baker, whose work among the prisoners atNewgate merits the highest praise .

16. The Globe and Travel/er

Condemns the ‘mischievous law passed in 1708 to support the Bank ofEngland’s monopoly

,which prevented a private banking establishment from being

controlled by more than six partners. The j ournal contends with truth that thislegislation forces a business of great responsibil ity, which should be of entiresecurity, into the hands of smal l firms .” The law of 1825 altered all this.

17 . The Courier

Has a weakness for drawing attention to its own propriety, in comparisonwith that of i ts contemporaries. I ts leader on the evening of the execution declaresthat

,although it refrained from comment while there was a chance of mercy, it

applauds the firmness of justice in refusing a reprieve when there was nothingin Fauntleroy’s case to meri t such interference . The Courier was in the handsOf Daniel Stuart—a great name in journalism—who was proprietor also of the

18. The S un .

A somewhat feeble paper,though well p rinted and arranged , edited by John

Taylor. I t prides itself on never printing anything about Fauntleroy exceptthe proceedings before the magistrates .

224 SOME D IST I NGU ISHED V ICT IMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

19. The B righton Gazette

Cudgels The Times lus tily, and is indignant that a mere London papershould presume to know more about Mr Fauntle roy’s seas ide residence than aj ournal published in Brighton. About two years later the Gazette has much tosay about the beau tiful Maria Fox (alias Forbes , alias Forrest, alias Rose), whohad l ived under the protect ion of the fraudulent banker. A retir ed lawyernamed Barrow, who resided next door to the lady on the New S tein, accusedher ofkeeping a disorderly house, and she was cal led upon to meet this chargeat the Lewes Assizes . Although the fine advocacy of John Adolphus obtaineda verdict of not gui lty, the judge went out of his way to compliment the

author of the prosecution. ( Vide the B righton Gazette, April 5, 1827 ; alsoSeptember 14 and 2 1,

20. The Rambler’s Magaz ine, or Frolicsome Companion. Printed and publishedby William Dugdale, 23 Russel l Court, D rury Lane. April 1, 1827 , pp. 180-182

(aide Trial of Maria Fox ).The learned Pisanus Fraxi—H . S . Ashbee—whose knowledge of this class

of l iteratu re is unrivall ed , gives no description of th is particular publication. I tmay be a plagiarism of a magaz ine of about the same date

,and bearing an

almost similar ti tle (which it appears to resemble ), noticed in Catena

Librorum Tacendorum, p. 327 . Periodicals of this name are almost asnumerous, between the years 1782- 1829, as the Newgate Calendars. TheRambler

'

s Magaz ine makes two things evident first,that Fauntl eroy’s there

amie was a “ fair and engaging woman ” ; and secondly, that Mr Barrow hadmuch cause of complain t .

2 1. The Gentleman’s Magaz ine, November 1824 (part 11. p . December

1824 (part ii. p.I n the December number there is a trenchant letter from the Earl ofNormanton, condemning the criminal code. Philosophy would deem i t anabuse ,” says he, “ to punish the crime of a Fauntleroy in the same manner asthe crime of a Thurtell.” For the obituary notice ofWil liam Moore Faunt leroy ,the bro ther of the forger, see the Gentleman’s Magaz ine, part ii. p. 1092, 1803.

NOTES ON THE FAUNTLEROY CAS E

NOTE I .—Pierce Egan’s Account of the Trial of 11. Fauntleroy . Knight andLacey, 1824 .

No one excel led the historian of the Priz e Ring in this st le of li terature ,and his two other simi la r works, the Life of S amuelDenmore aw ard

and the Account of the Trial ofjohn Thartell wil l remain tex t-books foral l time. Pierce Egan makes a note (p. 2 1) t hat Mr. Fauntleroy has never useda slang express ion during his imprisonment. The 5 rise indicated by thiscomment is natu ral

,for, robbed of his i talics, the ant or o f Life in London

would have been left as naked to h is enemies as Cardinal Wolsey.

NOTE 11.—The Newgate Calendar . Knapp and Baldwin ( 1824 Vol. iv .

pp 285—390

Accepting the statement made by most of the dailynewspapers , this accountdeclares that Fauntleroy was hanged for defrauding h is‘

mfe’s family. Al thoughthis statement was made by The Times on Octobe r 2, it was denied two days


226 SOME DISTI NGU ISHED V ICTIMS OF THE S CAFFOLD

compel led h im to overreach himself, or the crafty story of revenge m1gh' t have

been believed.

NOTE V .—7 lre History of tire Catnacb Press . By Charles Hind ley p. 73.

But for the indefatigable researches of th is author we should know lit tle ofthe immorta l Jemmy, who, i t must be remembered , was the Al fred Ha rmsworthof his day .

NOTE VI . D ic. Nat. B iog.

Like Pie rce Egan and Char l es Hind ley , the w ri ter of th is monographthat Fauntlero was convicted for a fraud upon his s ister-in-law,whi ch

more remarka le as TIre Times is ci ted as an au thority. The name of theforger’s fa ther was not Hen ry , bu t Wi l l iam the arres t was made on September10

,not S eptembe r 1 1 the war rant of commitment charged him wi th

embez z ling,not a thousand , bu t ten thousand pounds the Be rne rs S treet Bank

was not founded in 1782, bu t ten yea rs later ; the value of Miss Young’s stockwas £5450 ; and Faunt leroy was committed for t ria l on October 19. Theredoes no t appear to be any authority for the assertion tha t the fraudu len t t ransfe rsfirs t began in 18 15, and i t wou ld be more cor rect to say that Messrs Marsh ,S tracey Company announced the suspens ion of payment on Septembe r 13.

NOTE V I I .—H istory of Ike B ank of England. By John Francis Vol. i.PP 339

—345

The au thor of th is work , relying upon the evidence of J . H . Palmer be forea Committee of the House of Commons in 1832 , estimates the loss of the Bankof England through the Fauntleroy forgeries at A l though thesefigures were correct at the time when the Governor made his s tatement , theBank received from Messrs Marsh, S tracey C ompany duringS eptember 1835, in fu l l discharge of their debt . 1 Thus

, as the gross loss to theBank , accord ing t o John Horsley Palmer, was the actual l oss appearsto have been reduced to

NOTE V I I I .—For particulars of the Berners St reet Bankruptcy consult thefol lowing

(a ) T/ze B ank of E ngland’s Case under Marsh Co .

’s Commission. By

a Sol icitor. (Lupton Relfe , 1 13 Cornhil l .(b) Tbe B ank of E ngland

’

s Claim in reply to M r Wilkinson’sRepor t upon the Facts . (Lupton Reife .

(c) Ryan andMoody’s Law Reportsfrom 1823

-1826 . Stone and Ano therMarsh

,S tracey Graham .

” P. 364.

(d) Reports of Cases determined at N ist P rizesfrom 1823—1827 . By Edward

Ryan and Wm . Moody . Hume and Another Bol land and O thers. ” P. 37 1.

(e) Cases m B ankruptcyfrom 182 1—1828. By Thomas Glynn and Robe rtJameson . Governor and Company of the Bank of England in the matter ofMarsh , S tracey, Graham and Fauntleroy . Vol . i i . pp . 363

-368, 446 .

(f ) Tbe Report of Committee of S ecrecy on tire B ank ofE rig/and’s Charter

Vide Ev idence of John Hors ley Palmer (Governor) . P. 9 , andAppendix , p . 55.

(g) Retur ns as to B ankruptcies prev ious to tire Act of Parliament, 1831.

( 1839 Vol . xlni. p . 96 .

1 I wish to acknowledge , with many thanks , the kindness of Mr Kenneth Graham ,

Secretar

gof the Bank of England

,in ve ri fying the sum paid by the ass ign ees of

Marsh,tracey Company .

IN D E !

ABBOTT, Char les, 124.

Baron,167 .

es 49, 52 , S3

53°

song 39, 7 3~Adair, M r W i l l iam , 39 , 40 so. d iscovershis signature

, 42 ; mentioned , 46, 49 ,55

Add ington , Dr Anthony, 17 Henry,133,

vn.

Akerman (Governor of Newgate ) , his

humanity,63, 98.

Albemarle,second Ear l

, 39.

Al ley, M r (counsel for Wal l), 123, 124,196 .

Alvanley, Lord , 187 .

Ammersley, Mr (banker), 94, 95.

Angel,Miss. S ee Kauffman

,Angel ica.

Angelini , Edmund, 199 .

Angelo, Domenico, 92, 101 .

Angelo,Hen ry

,62

, 108 .

Aram , Eugene, v i i i , 104 .

Armstrong, Benjamin, 1 19 , 12 1, 125, 127 ,Asgill, S ir Charles, 90, 9 1 .

Ashbee , H. S . , 224Ashe, Miss , 173.

As ton , S ir Richard , 28, 54, 6 1.

Atlay, J . B . ,v i i .

Aylifl'

e,John

, 85.

BAILEY (barris ter) , 57 , 58, 62.

Baker (coiner ), execu ted , 65.

Baker, M r, 197 , 199, 201 sg. ,223, 226 .

Bamford , Sam , 192 .

‘ Bang,’Mrs, 18 1, 190,

2 12.

Bank of England, 184 sq .

,194 sq. ,

208,

2 16 spa ,225 sq .

Barnes,Thomas , 22 1.

Barri ngton,George

,206 .

Ba rrow, Mr , 224.

Bartoloz z i, F. completes engrav ing byRyland , 97 .

Bathurst,Henry (barrister) , 23.

Bel l , John, 222 .

B ell’s W eekly Dispatch, 222.

B ell’s W eekly Messenger , 222.

Binfield, Betty , 15, 17 .

Binns, Edward , 225.

Black , John , 220.

Blackbu rn,Joseph

,205.

B lake , Wi l l iam ,ment ioned

, 79 ; mm toRyland, 88.

Blandy,Francis

,described , 1 sqq . breaks

with Cranstoun, 8 ; i nvi tes him toHenley

,10 ; atti tude towards him ,

10 ; fal ls i l l , 13 ; suspects poison , 16last hours, 18 sq. death , 20 .

Blandy, Mary , mentioned , vi i i, 9 , 74 ;desc ribed

,2 ; early life, 3 sgq. ; en

gagement to Cranstoun, 4 sq. pas

s ion for Cranstoun,8 sq . ; fear of

disinheri tance, 1 1 ; plots with Cranstoun , 1 1 receives love ph il tre fromh im

, 12 ; prepares her father’s oatmeal, 14 so. suspected by herfather , 16 ; cal ls i n Dr Add ington ,17 wri t es to Cranstoun, 17 conversation with dying father, 18 so.

accused by Dr Addington,20 ; taken

to Oxford cast le, 2 1 ; l ife there , 22 ;

t rial,

23 soy. speech , 25 foundgu i l ty

,27 ; last days, 29 ; execu

t ion, 30 sqq. ; bu rial , 33 ; date of

bi r th, 38.

Blandy,Mrs

,described

,2 sq . death , 7 .

Bolland , James, 205, 2 14.

Boswel l,James , vi i i v is i ts Mrs Rudd , 68.

Botting,James, 136, 204 .

Boucher,Francois , 80 sq . , 82, 105.

Boyd,Hugh M‘

Auley, 55.

Braham,John (singer ) , 39 , 7 3.

Brandreth,Jeremy, 142 .

B righton Gazette, 224 .

B rilzs/z Press , 22 1 .

Broderick,Mr

,196 .

Brooke,Dr

, 46 , 55.

Brown, S herifi

'

,192, 202 .

B rownrigg,E l iz abeth , 54 , 138.

Brummell,George Beau 149 .

B ryer C0 87 .

228

Budworth , Joseph , writes of Mary ofBut te rmere, 146 , 147 ; advice to her,148 wri tes again

, 148 ; de tai ls of his

B 1

a rticles , 176 , 17 7 .

u ler,

ud e, 9 s

Burke , {Vil iam ,

51

8378.

.Bute , Marquis of emp loys Ryland,84 .

Butterfield,Jane, 59 .

Bu t t ermere,Mary ( the Beau ty of) , men

tioned, vi ii , ix ; Wordsworth’s l ineson

,146 becomes famous, 147

Wordsworth’s and Co le ridge’s accoun tof

,147 mar ries Colonel Hope ,’ 152

descrip tion of, 152 ; wedding tour,154 ; announcement o f marr iage, 158 ;d is cove rs husband’s ident ity, 158

let ter to Sir Richard Forde,165 ;

popular sympath y with,166 ; atti tude

to Hadfield afte r t rial,169 ; chi ld

born , 17 3 ; mar riage and subsequentlife , 174 ; contemporary descriptionsof

,176 sq.

Byng,Admiral

,128.

Byron,Lord

,155.

CADOGAN,Lord

,22 .

Cameron,Jenny

, 1 .

Canning, E l izabeth , 34 .

Canot , Peter Charles (engraver ), 76 .

Carlis le House , 86 , 101 .

Caroline , Queen , 189 .

Casanova,86 .

Catnach,Jemmy

,188

,226 .

Charlston, Abraham ,166.

Chatter ton,Thomas , 205.

Chud leigh,E l iz abeth , 10, 60, 86 .

Churchil l , Charles, 85.

Clement , M r, 222 .

Cock,Hen ry , 205.

Conant,Mr John

,185, 19 1 ,

Conway,General

,12 1 .

Conyngham,Lady

,199 .

Co leman,Henry

,22 .

Co leridge , Samuel Taylor , mentioned , v i i i ;ar tic les on Hadfield

,169 , 17 5 ; de

scription of Mary of Bu ttermere,176 .

Copley , Sir John, 193, 194. S ee also

Lyndhu rst,Lord .

Cornelys, Madame , 101.

Therese.Cornelys, Sophie , 86 .

Cotton,Rev. (Ordinary of Newgate), 197 ,

198 , 199 , 200 sq . ,202, 203, 223.

Courier , 223.

Cox , Sheriff, 134, 137 , 138.

Cranstoun,Lady

, 4, 5, 7 , 10.

Cranstoun, fifth Lord , 4 , 37 .

Cranstoun,Captain Wi l l i am Hen ry

,courts

Miss Blandy , 4 ; s tays with Blandys ,4 pas t life

, 4 sq . d ivorce su i t , 6 sqd ismissal from Henley

,8 return

,10

desperate posi tion of,10 ; plots wi th

M iss Blandy,1 1 returns to Scotland

,

12 ; sends S cotch pebbles ,’ 12

S ee also Imer,

SOME DISTINGUISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

FALCONET, P ierre (port rai t of Ryland), 87 .

Fau lkner,Ma ry

,129 .

Fauntle roy,Henry , men tioned , vii i , ix,

67 ; becomes manager of bank ,description of

,179 ; charac ter, 180 ,

p rivate l i fe, 181 ; marriage, 182 ,

liaisons,182 ; forgeries , 183 sq. ; dis

covery, 184 ; arrest , 185 exam inedat Marlborough S treet, 187 so. z excitement over his case , 188 friendshipwi th Parkins

,190 ; imprisonment , 1 16

employs Harmer as solici tor,t r ia l

,193 sq. ; defence , 195 ° verdi ct

,

196 ; sentenced , las t days, 197sqq . execution

,203 ; comments on

case , 205 sqq. detai ls of fo rge ries,207 sqq. ; and the newspapers, 220

sqq . contempora ry accounts of trial,

224 sqq. repor ted resusc i tation, 225wri tten statement of motives discussed ,225.

w ri tes i nst ruc tions, 13 denounced byM r Blandy

,18 ; escape and death

,

28 ; alleged innocence, 37 , 38 mentioned, 74.

C rump , John Grego ry, 149 ; friendsh ipwith Co lonel Hope,

’149 honours his

d raft , 152 witnes s at Hadfield’s trial,

167 ; mentioned , 168 , 169.Cumber land , Henry Frederick , Duke of,

48, 165.

DAGGE, Henry (barrister), 45.

Dalboux,Hannah

, 58 .

Davy , Serjean t , 62.

Dawson , Mrs , 69 .

Delaney, Mrs, 104 .

Demarteau, Gilles (engraver), 82.

Dennis Co. , 16 1, 167 .

D’Eon, Chevalier , 60.

De Qu incey, articles on Hadfield, 169 , 172 ,176 .

Despard , Col . Edward Marcus , ix, 140.

De Vaudreu i l,1 13.

D ickens, Charles , 192 .

Disney, Mrs J . C. , 212, 214.

Dodd , Dr, v iii, 54, 67 , 104 , 186, 205, 225.

Donellan,Captain

,vi i i

, 105.

Drummond,Hen ry

, 40 sqq.

Drummond,Mess rs , 40 sqq .

Drummond,Robe rt

, 40 destroys Mrs

Rudd’s writing, 44 .

Duval , C laude , 173.

EGAN,Pierce

,2 15, 223, 224.

Egmont,Lord

, 40.

E ldon , Lord Chancellor, 132.

E lia,E ssays of, 38.

Emmet,Ann

,13, 14.

E nglis/zman ,222.

Evans , Private Wi lliam , 120.

Ewar t , Wi l liam , 67 , 221 .

E xaminer , 222.


230

Hughes,Bal l

,187 .

Hughes,Sir Edward

, 1 13.

Hu lme, D. , 184.

Hunt, enry 190.

Hunt , Joseph , 184, 192

Hunton,Joseph

,222.

Hu tchings , W . W .,v ii

IMER, Therese , 86 . S ee also Cornelys ,Madame .

xteen Stri ng ,’ 44, 54.

223 .

vi i i, 33, and Mrs

Rudd,68.

Jones , Mr A rthur (solici tor ), 40.

KATE,

‘Corin thian,

’18 1

,190,

2 12,2 15.

Kauffman,Angel ica , 105 sqq . friendship

wi th Ryland,88 ; pictures engraved

by Ryland,89 sqq . mentioned

, 10 1.

Key,A lde rman John

,193, 202.

Kent , Constance , 34 .

Kent,Mary Ann (Mrs Bang) , 2 12 .

Keppel],Lady Carol ine

, 39, 73.

Kerr, General Lord Mark , 4 , 5, 6.

Kinder , Colonel George , 49 ; attacks Mrs

Rudd , 56 .

Kirby (keeper of Newgate ), 131, 133, 138 .

Knowlys , Newman, 124 .

LA CHARPILLON,Mademoiselle

,86 .

Lacy,Mrs

,128 sq .

Lamb, Charles, 38 .

Law ,Edward (At torney-Genera l ), 124conducts case against Wall

, 125 sqq.

Lawrence , Sir S oulden,124.

Le Bas , Jacques Phi lippe , 8 1 .

Legge,Judge

,23, 27 .

Lee , George (highwayman ), 65.

Le ighton,Blai r, 106 .

Lew is,Evan , 126 .

Lewis,Dr W il l iam

, 20 .

Lewis,Monk

,

’165.

Lloyd (housebreaker), 99 .

Lovat , Lord , 83 .

Lowry , Captain James, 138 , 142 sq .

Ludd i te riots,166 .

Lyndhurs t , Lord , 193, 2 17 .

Lyttel ton,Lord

,62 , 68 .

Lyt tleton,Lady , 40.

MACCLES FIELD, Lord , 22.

Macdonald , S ir Arch ibald , 124 .

Mackenz ie, Frances , 123. S ee Mrs Wal l .Mackenz ie , Captain Kenneth , 122

, 128 ,l33, 14 1-143

Mackenz ie , Kenneth ( father of Mrs Wal l ),145.

Macki ntosh , James , 67 , 22 1.

Macnamara,Colonel

, 1 14 .

SOME D IS TINGUISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

Mac l ean , James , 163

.

Mansfield , Lord ief-Justin M rs Rudd’s case ,tinned , 68 , 88 .

Marsh , Sibbald Co. , 178 .

Marsh , S tracey, Fauntleroy179, 196 , 207 sqq. , 221, 222,

Marsh , Mr Wi l l iam ,178, 209 , 21

Mar tin , Samuel 54.

Maybrick , Florence, 34.

Maynard,Thomas

,222 .

M i lls (bankers ) , 52 .

M irabeau,Count

,80.

Montgomery, Ca tain John , 222.

Moore,Co l . Nat anicl Montgomery, 150

cashes draft on Mr Crump, 151peets ‘Colonel Hope

,

’152

him , 155, 156 ; mentioned ,More land

,M r (banker ) , 95.

Morning Advertiser , 22 1

Morning Cfirom‘

cle,220

,22 1, 223.

178 .

Morn ing Post, 220.

Mountenay, Mr , 24, 29.

Mur ray , Miss (Mrs Cranstoun), 6 .

Murray , Fanny, 48.

NAPIER,Sir Charles , 12 1.

Nation , Mrs , 160 ; marries Hadfield,16 1 .

S ee also Mrs Hadfield.

Nelson , Sara , 176 .

Newel l,Thomas (attorney ) , 22.

N ewgate Calendar , v ii , vi i i , 69 , 173, 224 .

Newnham , Sherifi'

,66 .

Newton,Mr ( l awyer) , 167 .

N ew Times , 22 1.

Nicholson , Rev . John , 153 sq . ; fai th in‘ Colonel Hope ,’ 155 sq .

escape,156 sq. wi tness at Hadfield

’

s

t rial,167 mentioned , 17 2 .

ightingale, Mr, 90, 9 1 .

ollekens,Joseph , 75.

orfolk,Duke of

,130, 189 .

Norman,Henry . 205.

Norton, Benjam in (apo thecary) , 17 , 18.

Nucella, Mr , 16 1 .

Observer, 222.

O ldham (Depu ty-Advocate ) , 130 .

PALMER, J. H . , 226 .

Palmer,Wi l l iam , 138.

Park,Just ice

,193, 196 .

Parke,Colonel , 16 7 .

Parkins,Joseph Wi l fred, mentioned , 182,

2 15 ; career , 189 sq. ; indicted forperjury , 192 ; at Fauntleroys trial ,192 sq . let ters to press againstFauntleroy

,220 ; and Morning

Herald,220 ; le tter to S unday Times,

222 ; lawsu i t, 223.

Parsons,Wi l l iam , 175.

Paterson , George , 1 19 , 120 ; d ies, 121,

144 .i4s.

INDE!

Peckham (counsel for Ryland) , 94 .

Peel , John , 174 .

Peel,Sir Robe rt, 199 .

Pelham,Lord , 124 , 131 .

Perceval,Spencer

,124 .

Perreau,Daniel , mentioned , ix , 39 ,

205 desc ription of, 44 committed toprison , 46 ; relations wi th Mr Rudd ,48 sq. speculations

, 49 ; takes housein Har ley S treet

, 50 ; s tatement indefence , 52 ; on trial at O ld Bailey,54 ; defence and condemnation , 55 ;atti tude after trial

,63 ; in the Press

Yard , 63 ; drive to Tyburn , 64 sq . ;

execu tion, 66 ; gu i l t , 67 .

Pe rreau, Mrs Daniel. S ee M rs Rudd .

Perreau,M rs Robe rt

, 58 evidence at Mrs

Rudd’s trial,62 ; begs Queen for

mercy,63.

Perreau,Robert , ment ioned , 39 , 205 ; at

Drummond’s Bank , 40 sqq. denouncesMrs Rudd, 45 committed to prison ,46 ; att itude towards brother , 50 ;joins in plans of Daniel andMrs Rudd ,51 ; cashes bonds, 52 ; trial at O ldBailey, 54 ; defence and condemna

tion, 55 loyal ty to brother, 63 ;attempts to save

,63 ; i n Press Yard ,

63 ; drive to Tyburn , 64 sq. oxeention

,66 gu i l t , 67 .

Petersham ,Lady Caroline (Fitz roy ) , 173.

Pic ton,Thomas

,142.

Pi t t,William

,132 , 141.

P lank, S amuel , 185.

P lumer,Thomas

,124, 129 .

Pocock,Mrs

, 31 .

Pompadour,Mme . de, 79 , 81.

POplett, Lieut. Thomas , 127 .

QUICK (clerk) , 167 .

Rambler’s Magaz ine, 224 .

Ramsay, A l lan (portrai t of George83.

Rann,John ( ‘Sixteen Str ing 44,

S4Ransome Moreland

, 9 1.

Ratclifi'

e (coiner), execu ted, 65.

Ravenet (engraver ) , 76, 7 7 .Ray

,Martha

,vii i ; Récamier, Madame ,

166 .

Reed, M r Frederick , of Hassness, 176.

Reynolds,G . W. M. ,

225.

Reynolds,Sir Joshua, vi i i , 75, 105.

Rice (broker ) , 53.

Rich,John , 9 .

Rives, Mr (lawyer) , 22, 30.

Roberts, Captain , 1 16, 145.

Robinson, George, 120.

Robinson , Mary. S ee But termere, Beau tyof.

Romi lly,Samuel

,67 , 22 1.

Rooke,Sir Giles, 124.

Roubiliac, 75.

23 1

Rous (bar rister ), 95.

Rouvelett, John, 205.

Ryland,Edward

, 74 his plates , 76.

Ryland , Mrs, 92 opens print-shop, 104.

Ryland,Richard

, 87 .

Ryland, Wi l l iam Wynne, men tioned , V i ii ,ix , x , 54, 205 ; attends St Martin’sLane Academy

, 74 sq . ; apprenticedto Ravenet

, 76 ; home in Old Bai ley ,7 7 ; goes to Paris , 78 ; at Boucher’ss tud io, 80 sq . engravings afterBoucher, 8 1 learns stipple, 82 makesthe grand tour

,82 ; exhibi ts i n Eng

land, 83 ; returns to England, 83appointed king’s engraver, 84 ; eu

graves royal pictures, 85 ; fri ends ,85 ; society , 86 ; obtains pardon forbrother , 86 resides in S tafford Row ,

87 portrai t, 87 starts as print-se ller,87 fails

,87 ; visited by Blake , 87

fr iendship with Angel ica Kaufl'man ,

87 engraves her pictures, 89 ; pr intshop in S t rand

, 90 ; success, 90 ; extravagance, 9 1 charged with forgery92 ; in hid ing, 92 ; attempts suicide93 i n Bridewell

, 93 trial , 94 condemnation

, 95 las t engrav ings, 97 ;progress to Tybu rn

, 98 sqq . execu

t ion,102 burial

,104 ; gu i l t, 104 ;

genius, 105 ; Mrs Frankau’s account

of,109 ; other accounts, 109 ; l ist of

engrav ings by, 1 10.

Rudd,Margaret Carol ine , mentioned , V111,

105 ; descri pt ion of, 43 confessesforgery

, 44 ; committed to Bridewell ,46 appears before S ir John Fielding ,46 ; admitted as evidence for C rown,47 ; previous l ife, 47 sqq. passes as

Danie l Perreau’s wife, 49 sources of

income, 49, 50 ; family, 50 ; skill as

forger, 51 s tatement in defence

, 53 ;committed to Newgate, 54 ; arousespubl ic sympathy

, 56 ; her enemies,56 ; defends hersel f in the press , 56 ;deal ings wi th Mrs Hart

, 58 and wi thHannah Dalboux, 58 ; her ‘ pair ofscissors,’ 59 six months in Newgate60 ; her case be fore the judges , 6 1gives her brief, 6 1 appearance at O ldBailey

,6 1 ; trial and acquittal, 62 ;conduc t reviewed

,68 ; subsequent

his tory, 68 death,69 .

Rudd,Valentine, 48 .

Ru tland,Duke of, 159 .

ST MARTIN’S Lane Academy, 74 .

S alvadore (moneylender) , 48.

S anxy (Dr) , 59 .

Savary,Henry

,205, 225.

S carlett , James, 167 , 2 13 .

S cawen, Wi l liam, 59 .

S cotin (engraver ), 76 .

Seaforth,Lord , 145.

Selwyn,George, 32, 104 .

232 SOME DISTINGUISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD

Serr es , Ol ive, 189 .

S harp , W illiarn (e ver) , 97 .

Sheppard, Jack , 225.

Sibbald,Sir James, 178, 2 1 1.

Sidmouth , Lord , 190 .

Skel ton , Mr , 149 .

Slaugh ter’s coffee house , 75.

Smith (Governor of Bndewell), 93.Smith , Madeleine , 34.Smi th , Tom, 104 .

Smythe, Judge, 23.

S pringett, Rev. , 197 , 199 , 201 sq. ,220.

Stark , Thomas, 40.

S tevehs , Se rjeant Hen ry, 8, 38 .

S tewart , ohn , 49 .

S tracey, ir Edward , 178.

S tracey, M r J. H . (Sir Josias ) ,2 1 1 .

S trange, Robert (engraver) , 83 .

Strutt, James (pupil to Ry land), 84.

Stuart,Danie l , 223.

S un,223.

S unday Times, 22 1, 222.

S u ther land, Ca tain John, 143.

Swi nton,Rev. John, 26 , 29, 30.

Sydney , Lord , 1 17 . S ee also Townshend .

Sylves ter (Crown counse l) , 95.

TADEMA, Alma, 106 .

Taylor,Sheriff Robert

, 93, 98 .

Thistlewood, Ar thur, 142 .

Thomson , Sir A lexander, 166 , 172.

Tho rnbury,George Walter, 206 , 225.

Thornhil l,Sir James

, 75.Thorn ton

,Abraham

,167 .

Thurtell, John , v i ii , 184 , 188, 192, 221 ,224 .

Timbs,Pr ivate Charles

,130.

Times , 220, 221, 223, 224 , 225.Townshend , M r, 1 12 , 1 15, 1 17 .

Traill , H . D. , 175.

Tu rner,Anne, 34.

Tu rton , W i l li am Hen ry , 143.

URBAN , Sylvanus, 145.

Upton, Corporal Thomas , 120 ; dies, 12 1 .

VICKERY (Governor of Co ldbath FieldsPr ison ) , 19 1 , 22 1.

Vi lle tte, Rev . (Ord ina ry of Newgate) , 65,66 at Ryland’s execu t ion , 99, 102 .

W AITHMAN (Lord Mayor ), 190.

Wate rman , Mr (papermaker ) , 95.

Wale, S am, 76 .

Walke r (engraver), 76 .

num'

u av NE ILL AND co . , m innow " .

Walpole,Horace , 2 1, 34 , 59,

Wal ter, Mr, 216 , 22 1.Wal l

,August ine , 145.

Wall , Governor Joseph , men tioned , ix ;descr iption of, 1 12 ; Governor of

Goree , 1 13 ; se rves in West Ind ies,1 13 ; in John Company , 1 13 ; duels ,1 14 ; se rvice in North-Wes t Africa ,

1 14 ; Governor of Goree, 1 15 ; cen~

sured by Horse Guards, 1 16 arres t,1 17 ; escape , 1 17 ; his so ld iers inGo ree , 1 17 ; their disconten t, 1 18,1 19 ; has sold iers flogged

, 120 ; fugitive abroad , 122 ; re tu rns to London,123 ; surrende rs, 124 ; trial, 125 sqq . ;sentence, 131 ; las t days , 13 1 r q. ;

execu tion , 137 ; body ransomed omSurgeons’ Hall

, 139 ; bu rial, 139 ;comments on his case

, 139 sqq. o the raccusations agains t

,144 ; Wcourt-mar tial, 145 ; flogging other

soldiers, 145 ; date of appointment ,145.

Wall , M rs Joseph, 123 ; att empts to gethusband reprieved,131 parting W ith

husband,133 ; mentioned , 145.

Wat teau,Antoine

, 79 .

Wel ling ton,Duke of, 198.

Wes ton , Henry , 205.

W ibley, Charles, vi i .W ild , Jonathan (th ief-taker) , 74.

Wi lkes , John , 48, 87 ; at Perreaus ’ trial ,fi

4 .

W ing’

s , Miss Pol ly , 56.

Wilson , Ha rriet, 182.

Wi lson , Richard , 7 5.

Wi lkinson, Mr, 2 13.

Wilkinson, Tate, 2 1 .

W il liam IV. ,198 .

W i lliams, Peter, 129 .

Wi l liams-Wynne , Sir Watkin , 74.

Wontner (Governor of Newgate), 19 1, , 196 ,201 .

Wordswo rth, Wi l l iam,mentioned, vi ii

l ines on Mary of Butte rmere, 144, 145,176 ; on ‘ l it tl e Barbara Lewthwaite, ‘148 vis i ts Hadfield in gao l , 169.

Wood, A lderman , 189 .

Wood, George, 124, 167 .Wrigh t, Sir Sampson , 45, 93.

You r, Duke of, 150.

Young,Miss E l iz abeth, 187 .

Y oung,Miss Frances

,187 , 194, 225.

Youngson, Margare t Caro line, 49 . S ee

also Rudd.

Documents

Some Distinguished Victims - Forgotten Books