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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Some Distinguished Victims of the Scaffold, by
-Horace Bleackley
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: Some Distinguished Victims of the Scaffold
-
-Author: Horace Bleackley
-
-Release Date: June 10, 2016 [EBook #52301]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DISTINGUISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Brian Coe, Wayne Hammond and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
-file was produced from images generously made available
-by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-SOME DISTINGUISHED VICTIMS OF THE SCAFFOLD
-
-
-[Illustration: The IDLE ‘PRENTICE Executed at Tyburn.]
-
-
-
-
- SOME
-
- DISTINGUISHED VICTIMS
-
- OF THE SCAFFOLD
-
- BY
-
- HORACE BLEACKLEY
-
- _WITH TWENTY-ONE ILLUSTRATIONS_
-
-
- LONDON
- KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRÜBNER, & CO., LTD.
- DRYDEN HOUSE, GERRARD STREET, W.
- 1905
-
-
-
-
- To
-
- JOSEPH GREGO
-
- WHOSE MEMORY IS STORED WITH
- PICTURES OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY
- THESE MODERN IMPRESSIONS FROM
- OLD PLATES ARE
- OFFERED
-
-
-
-
-PREFACE
-
-
-No apology is needed, save that which the consciousness of inadequate
-work may call forth, from him who writes a history of great criminals.
-Since the lives of so many whose crime is their only title to fame
-have been included in the _Dictionary of National Biography_, it is
-inevitable that some of these old stories shall be re-told. Already
-the books of Charles Whibley and J. B. Atlay, as well as the newspaper
-sketches of W. W. Hutchings, have advanced this portion of our
-bibliography to a large extent. By a judicious selection some rare
-human documents and many an entrancing tale may be found in the crimson
-pages of the Tyburn Chronicle. The dainty squeamishness that put
-Ainsworth into the pillory, not because he had written a clumsy novel,
-but because he had dared to weave a romance around the grisly walls of
-Newgate, would be out of place in an age that will listen to ballads
-of a drunken soldier, and reads our women’s stories of the boudoirs of
-Mayfair.
-
-Without a knowledge of the _Newgate Calendar_ it is impossible to be
-acquainted with the history of England in the eighteenth century. On
-the other hand, to him who knows these volumes, and who has verified
-his information in the pages of the Sessions papers and among the
-battles of the pamphleteers, the Georgian era is an open book. No
-old novel gives a more exact picture of a middle-class household than
-the trial of Mary Blandy, nor shows the inner life of those on the
-fringe of society more completely than the story of Robert Perreau.
-While following the fate of Henry Fauntleroy we enter the newspaper
-world of our great-grandfathers. And as we look upon these forgotten
-dramas, the most illustrious bear us company. For a time Wordsworth and
-Coleridge chat of nothing but the Beauty of Buttermere and rascally
-John Hadfield. Dr Johnson thinks wistfully of the charms of sweet Mrs
-Rudd. Boswell rides to Tyburn in the same coach as the Rev. Mr Hackman,
-or persuades Sir Joshua to witness an execution. Henry Fielding lashes
-the cowards who strive to condemn a prisoner unheard. To all who desire
-to understand the eighteenth century the _Newgate Calendar_ is as
-essential as the _Letters_ of Walpole.
-
-In making a selection from the dozen or more _causes célèbres_ that
-stand out in special prominence from the rebellion of ’45 to the death
-of George IV. the choice is not difficult. It is apparent that the
-stories of Eugene Aram, Dr Dodd, and John Thurtell must be omitted, for
-all have been told adequately in recent years. Little that is new or
-interesting can be found in the tale of mad Lord Ferrers, except that
-he was not hanged with a silken rope. Although the weird tragedy of the
-Rev. James Hackman sank more deeply into the popular mind than almost
-any other, the history of the brothers Perreau has been preferred,
-since Mrs Rudd appears a more attractive personage than the unfortunate
-Martha Ray. For similar reasons Wynne Ryland takes the place of Captain
-Donellan, and Eliza Fenning, naturally, has been excluded in favour
-of the Keswick Impostor. As to the rest, it is obvious--owing to the
-omission of the highwayman and those guilty of high treason such as
-Colonel Despard--that no more illustrious names can be found in the
-_Newgate Calendar_ than Mary Blandy, Joseph Wall, and Henry Fauntleroy.
-
-Each crime, moreover, bears the distinct impress of its epoch. None
-other but the dark night that separates a gorgeous sunset from the
-brilliant dawn could witness the sombre tragedy at Henley. While the
-nation begins its eager life as a young apprentice to trade, Tom Idle
-is found among the recreants, and many a sparkling macaroni like
-Daniel Perreau prefers to stake his all in Exchange Alley to pursuing
-laborious days. Wynne Ryland is dazzled by the birth of a most radiant
-springtide when the world becomes clothed in beauty, and man seems to
-have stolen the heavenly flame. Then comes the clash of arms and the
-strife of worlds, when the red giants are unchained, and the life of
-ten thousand men is naught in the policy of a statesman. With the story
-of the Maid of Buttermere we perceive again one of the spirits of the
-age--vain, ruthless Strephon in dandy attire pursuing his Phyllis,
-shallow-pated and simple. And last, the era of Henry Fauntleroy, when
-the nation has grown rich, and man must choose between the scarlet of
-the Corinthian, and the dull, sober garb of toil--a strange mingling of
-black and crimson.
-
-In order to avoid an interruption of the narrative which a footnote
-must always cause, the editorial comments have been placed in the
-bibliography at the end of each monograph, to which those who differ
-from the author are requested to refer. Although the addition of the
-lists of authorities has robbed the book of due proportion, the fact
-that the useful adage “when found make a note of” has been observed
-will, it is hoped, cause the loss to be balanced by the gain.
-
-The author wishes to acknowledge his obligations to Mr John Arthur
-for his kindness in verifying references in the British Museum; to Mr
-Isaac Edwards of Bolton for similar help; to the editors of the _Henley
-Advertiser_, the _Carlisle Journal_, and the _Tiverton Gazette_ for
-access to the files of their newspapers; to the rectors of Henley,
-Feltham, Mottram, St Sepulchre’s, Holborn, and St Martin’s, Ludgate,
-for permission to consult the church register; to Mr Richard Greenup of
-Caldbeck for information concerning the Beauty of Buttermere; and to
-Mrs Bleackley for the list of Wynne Ryland’s engravings.
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS
-
-
- PAGE
-
- THE LOVE PHILTRE. The Case of Mary Blandy, 1751-1752 1
-
- A Bibliography of the Blandy Case 35
-
-
- THE UNFORTUNATE BROTHERS. The Case of Robert and Daniel
- Perreau and Margaret Caroline Rudd, 1775-1776 39
-
- A Bibliography of the Perreau Case 70
-
-
- THE KING’S ENGRAVER. The Case of William Wynne Ryland,
- 1783 74
-
- A Bibliography of the Ryland Case 107
-
- A List of William Wynne Ryland’s Engravings 110
-
-
- A SOP TO CERBERUS. The Case of Governor Wall, 1782-1802 112
-
- A Bibliography of the Wall Case 144
-
-
- THE KESWICK IMPOSTOR. The Case of John Hadfield, 1802-1803 146
-
- A Bibliography of the Hadfield Case 175
-
-
- A FAMOUS FORGERY. The Case of Henry Fauntleroy, 1824--
-
- Part I. The Criminal and his Crime 178
-
- Part II. Some Details of the Forgeries 207
-
- Fauntleroy and the Newspapers 220
-
- Notes on the Fauntleroy Case 224
-
-
- INDEX 227
-
-
-
-
-ILLUSTRATIONS
-
-
- 1. The Execution of the Idle Apprentice at Tyburn,
- _by Hogarth_ _Frontispiece_
-
- PAGE
-
- 2. Mary Blandy. _Mezzotint by T. Ryley after L. Wilson_ _to face_ 1
-
- 3. The Divinity School, Oxford, where Miss Blandy was
- tried ” 23
-
- 4. The Execution of Miss Blandy. _From an engraving
- by John Cole_ 35
-
- 5. Messrs Robert and Daniel Perreau in the Dock ” 39
-
- 6. Margaret Caroline Rudd. _Line engraving by G.
- Sibelius after D. Dodd_ ” 47
-
- 7. Mrs Margaret Rudd in the Dock. _Drawn and
- engraved by G. Bartolozzi_ ” 61
-
- 8. William Wynne Ryland. _Drawn and engraved
- by P. Falconet_ ” 74
-
- 9. His Majesty King George III. _Line engraving by
- W. W. Ryland after Allan Ramsay_ ” 84
-
- 10. Charles Rogers. _Mezzotint by W. W. Ryland after
- Sir Joshua Reynolds_ ” 87
-
- 11. General Stanwix’s Daughter. _Stipple engraving by
- W. W. Ryland after Angelica Kauffman_ (an
- example of the famous ‘red-chalk’ manner) ” 90
-
- 12. Angelica Kauffman. _Stipple engraving by T. Burke
- after Sir Joshua Reynolds_ ” 110
-
- 13. Governor Wall. _An etching by J. Chapman_ ” 112
-
- 14. John Hadfield. _Etched by J. Chapman_ ” 146
-
- 15. The Beauty of Buttermere. _Coloured engraving
- after John Smith_ ” 152
-
- 16. Mary of Buttermere. _Stipple engraving by Mackenzie
- from a drawing by W. M. Bennet_ ” 158
-
- 17. Mary of Buttermere. _Etched by James Gillray_ ” 173
-
- 18. Henry Fauntleroy. _From a sketch by “A. V.”_ ” 178
-
- 19. James Harmer. _Line engraving by T. Wright from
- a drawing by A. Wivell_ ” 192
-
- 20. Fauntleroy’s Trial at the Old Bailey. _By W. Read_ ” 195
-
- 21. Catnach’s Broadside of Fauntleroy’s Execution ” 204
-
-[Illustration:
-
- _F. Wilson Pinxᵗ._ _T. Riley Fecit._
-
-_Miss Blandy_
-
-_Now confined in Oxford Gaol on Suspicion of Poisoning her Father._]
-
-
-
-
-Some Distinguished Victims of the Scaffold
-
-
-
-
-THE LOVE PHILTRE
-
-THE CASE OF MARY BLANDY, 1751-2
-
- “Who hath not heard of Blandy’s fatal fame,
- Deplored her fate, and sorrowed o’er her shame?”
-
- --_Henley_, a poem, 1827.
-
-
-During the reign of George II.--when the gallant Young Pretender was
-leading Jenny Cameron toward Derby, and flabby, gin-besotted England,
-dismayed by a rabble of half-famished Highlanders, was ready to take
-its thrashing lying-down--a prosperous attorney, named Francis Blandy,
-was living at Henley-upon-Thames. For nine years he had held the post
-of town clerk, and was reckoned a person of skill in his profession.
-A dour, needle-witted man of law, whose social position was more
-considerable than his means or his lineage, old Mr Blandy, like others
-wiser than himself, had a foible. His pride was just great enough to
-make him a tuft-hunter. In those times, a solicitor in a country town
-had many chances of meeting his betters on equal terms, and when the
-attorney of Henley pretended that he had saved the large sum of ten
-thousand pounds, county society esteemed him at his supposed value.
-There lived with him--in an old-world home surrounded by gardens and
-close to the bridge on the London road--his wife and daughter, an only
-child, who at this period was twenty-five years of age.
-
-Mrs Blandy, as consequential an old dame as ever flaunted _sacque_
-or nodded her little bugle over a dish of tea, seems to have spent
-a weary existence in wringing from her tight-fisted lord the funds
-to support the small frivolities which her social ambition deemed
-essential to their prestige. A feminine mind seldom appreciates the
-reputation without the utility of wealth, and the lawyer’s wife had
-strong opinions with regard to the propriety of living up to their
-ten-thousand-pound celebrity. While he was content with the barren
-honour that came to him by reason of the reputed _dot_ which his
-daughter one day must enjoy--pluming himself, no doubt, that his Molly
-had as good a chance of winning a coronet as the penniless daughter of
-an Irish squireen--his lady, with more worldly wisdom, knew the value
-of an occasional jaunt to town, and was fully alive to the chances of
-rout or assembly hard-by at Reading. Thus in the pretty little home
-near the beautiful reach of river, domestic storms--sad object-lesson
-to an only child--raged frequently over the parental truck and barter
-at the booths of Vanity Fair.
-
-Though not a beauty--for the smallpox, that stole the bloom from the
-cheeks of many a sparkling belle in hoop and brocade, had set its seal
-upon her face--the portrait of Mary Blandy shows that she was comely.
-Still, it is a picture in which there is a full contrast between the
-light and shadows. Those fine glistening black eyes of hers--like the
-beam of sunshine that illumines a sombre chamber--made one forget the
-absence of winsome charm in her features; yet their radiance appeared
-to come through dark unfathomable depths rather than as the reflection
-of an unclouded soul. With warmth all blood may glow, with softness
-every heart can beat, but some, like hers, must be compelled by
-reciprocal power. Such, in her empty home, was not possible. Even the
-love and devotion of her parents gave merely a portion of their own
-essence. From a greedy father she acquired the sacred lust, and learnt
-from infancy to dream, with morbid longing, of her future dower; while
-her mother encouraged a hunger for vain and giddy pleasure, teaching
-unwittingly that these must be bought at the expense of peace, or by
-the sacrifice of truth. To a girl of wit and intelligence in whose
-heart nature had not sown the seeds of kindness, these lessons came as
-a crop of tares upon a fruitful soil. But, as in the case of all women,
-there was one hope of salvation. Indeed, since the passion of her soul
-cried out with imperious command that she should fulfil the destiny
-of her sex, the love of husband and children would have found her a
-strong but pliable material that could be fashioned into more gentle
-form. Without such influence she was one of those to whom womanhood
-was insufferable--a mortal shape where lay encaged one of the fiercest
-demons of discontent.
-
-Molly Blandy did not lack admirers. Being pleasant and vivacious--while
-her powers of attraction were enhanced by the rumour of her
-fortune--not a few of the beaux in the fashionable world of Bath, and
-county society at Reading, gave homage and made her their toast. In
-the eyes of her parents it was imperative that a suitor should be able
-to offer to their daughter a station of life befitting an heiress.
-On this account two worthy swains, who were agreeable to the maiden
-but could not provide the expected dower, received a quick dismissal.
-Although there was nothing exorbitant in the ambition of the attorney
-and his dame, it is clear that the girl learnt an evil lesson from
-these mercenary transactions. Still, her crosses in love do not seem
-to have sunk very deeply into her heart, but henceforth her conduct
-lost a little of its maidenly reserve. The freedom of the coquette
-took the place of the earnestness and sincerity that had been the
-mark of her ardent nature, and her conduct towards the officers of
-the regiment stationed at Henley was deemed too forward. However, the
-father, whose reception into military circles no doubt made the desired
-impression upon his mayor and aldermen, was well satisfied that his
-daughter should be on familiar terms with her soldier friends. Even
-when she became betrothed to a captain of no great fortune, he offered
-small objection on account of the position of the young man. Yet,
-although the prospect of a son-in-law who held the king’s commission
-had satisfied his vanity, the old lawyer, who foolishly had allowed
-the world to believe him richer than he was, could not, or (as he
-pretended) would not, provide a sufficient dowry. Thus the engagement
-promised to be a long one. Fate, however, decided otherwise. Very
-soon her suitor was ordered abroad on active service, and the hope of
-marriage faded away for the third time.
-
-In the summer of 1746, while no doubt she was sighing for her soldier
-across the seas, the man destined to work the tragic mischief of her
-life appeared on the scene. William Henry Cranstoun, a younger son
-of the fifth Lord Cranstoun, a Scottish baron, was a lieutenant of
-marines, who, since his regiment had suffered severely during the late
-Jacobite rebellion, had come to Henley on a recruiting expedition. At
-first his attentions to Miss Blandy bore no fruit, but he returned the
-following summer, and while staying with his grand-uncle, General Lord
-Mark Kerr, who was an acquaintance of the lawyer and his family, he
-found that Mary was off with the old love and willing to welcome him
-as the new. All were amazed that the fastidious girl should forsake
-her gallant captain for this little sprig from North Britain--an
-undersized spindleshanks, built after Beau Diddapper pattern--in whose
-weak eyes and pock-fretten features love must vainly seek her mirror.
-Still greater was the astonishment when ten-thousand-pound Blandy,
-swollen with importance, began to babble of “my Lord of Crailing,”
-and the little bugle cap of his dame quivered with pride as she told
-her gossips of “my Lady Cranstoun, my daughter’s new mamma.” For it
-was common knowledge that the small Scot was the fifth son of a needy
-house, with little more than his pay to support his many vicious and
-extravagant habits. Such details seem to have been overlooked by the
-vain parents in their delight at the honour and glory of an alliance
-with a family of title. In the late autumn of 1747 they invited their
-prospective son-in-law to their home, where, as no one was fonder of
-free quarters, he remained for six months. But the cruel fate that
-presided over the destinies of the unfortunate Mary intervened once
-more. Honest Lord Mark Kerr (whose prowess as a duellist is chronicled
-in many a page), perceiving the intentions of his unscrupulous
-relative, made haste to give his lawyer friend the startling news that
-Cranstoun was a married man.
-
-This information was correct. Yet, although wedded since the year
-before the rebellion, the vicious little Scot was seeking to put away
-the charming lady who was his wife and the mother of his child. Plain
-enough were the motives. A visit to England had taught him that the
-title which courtesy permitted him to bear was a commercial asset
-that, south of the Tweed, would enable him to sell himself in a better
-market. As one of his biographers tells us, “he saw young sparklers
-every day running off with rich prizes,” for the chapels of Wilkinson
-and Keith were always ready to assist the abductor of an heiress.
-Indeed, before his arrival at Henley, he had almost succeeded in
-capturing the daughter of a Leicestershire squire, when the father, who
-suddenly learnt his past history, sent him about his business. Still,
-he persisted in his attempts to get the Scotch marriage annulled, and
-his chances seemed favourable. Most of the relatives of his wife, who
-had espoused the losing side in the late rebellion, were fled in exile
-to France or Flanders. Moreover, she belonged to the Catholic Church,
-which at that time in stern Presbyterian Scotland had fallen upon evil
-days. Believing that she was alone and friendless, and relying, no
-doubt, upon the sectarian prejudices of the law courts, he set forth
-the base lie that he had promised to marry her only on condition she
-became Protestant. His explanation to the Blandys, in answer to Lord
-Mark’s imputation, was the same as his defence before the Scottish
-Commissaries. The lady was his mistress, not his wife!
-
-Miss Blandy took the same view of the case that Sophy Western did under
-similar circumstances. Human nature was little different in those days,
-but men wore their hearts on their sleeve instead of exhibiting them
-only in the Courts, and women preferred to be deemed complacent rather
-than stupid. Doubtless old lawyer Blandy grunted many Saxon sarcasms
-at the expense of Scotch jurisprudence, and trembled lest son-in-law
-Diddapper had been entangled beyond redemption. Still, father, mother,
-and daughter believed the word of their guest, waiting anxiously for
-the result of the litigation that was to make him a free man. During
-the year 1748 the Commissaries at Edinburgh decided that Captain
-Cranstoun and the ill-used Miss Murray were man and wife. Then the
-latter, being aware of the flirtation at Henley, wrote to warn Miss
-Blandy, and provided her with a copy of the Court’s decree. Great
-was the consternation at the house on the London road. Visions of
-tea-gossip over the best set of china in the long parlour at Crailing
-with my Lady Cranstoun vanished from the old mother’s eyes, while the
-town clerk forgot his dreams of the baby whose two grand-fathers were
-himself and a live lord. Nevertheless, the young Scotsman protested
-that the marriage was invalid, declared that he would appeal to the
-highest tribunal, and swore eternal fidelity to his Mary. Alas, she
-trusted him! Within the sombre depths of her soul there dwelt a fierce
-resolve to make this man her own. In her sight he was no graceless
-creature from the barrack-room, but with a great impersonal love she
-sought in him merely the fulfilment of her destiny.
-
- “In her first passion, woman loves her lover:
- In all the others, all she loves is love.”
-
-At this time Cranstoun’s fortunes were in a parlous state. More than
-half of his slender patrimony had been sequestered for the maintenance
-of his wife and child, and shortly after the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle,
-his regiment being disbanded, he was left on half-pay. Still, he did
-not waver in his purpose to win the heiress of Henley.
-
-On the 30th of September 1749, the poor frivolous old head, which
-had sported its cap so bravely amidst the worries of pretentious
-poverty, lay still upon the pillow, and Mary Blandy looked upon the
-face of her dead mother. It was the turning-point in her career. While
-his wife was alive, the old lawyer had never lost all faith in his
-would-be son-in-law during the two years that he had been affianced
-to his daughter, in spite of the rude shocks which had staggered his
-credulity. Cranstoun had been allowed to sponge on him for another six
-months in the previous summer, and had pursued his womenfolk when they
-paid a visit to Mary’s uncle, Serjeant Stevens, of Doctors’ Commons.
-However, soon after the death of his wife the patience of Mr Blandy,
-who must have perceived that the case of the pretender was hopeless,
-seems to have become worn out. All idea of the baron’s grandchild faded
-from his mind; the blear-eyed lover was forbidden the house, and for
-nearly twelve months did not meet his trusting sweetheart.
-
-Although a woman of her intelligence must have perceived that, but
-for some untoward event, her relationship with her betrothed could
-never be one of honour, her fidelity remained unshaken. Having passed
-her thirtieth birthday, the dreadful stigma of spinsterhood was
-fast falling upon her. If the methods of analogy are of any avail,
-it is clear that she had become a creature of lust--not the lust
-of sensuality, but that far more insatiable greed, the craving for
-conquest, possession, the attainment of the unattainable, calling
-forth not one but all the emotions of body and soul. A sacrifice of
-honour--a paltry thing in the face of such mighty passion--would have
-been no victory, for such in itself was powerless to accomplish the
-essential metamorphosis of her life. In mutual existence with a lover
-and slave the destiny of this rare woman alone could be achieved. Thus
-came the harvest of the tempest. It was not the criminal negligence
-of the father in encouraging for nearly three years the pretensions
-of a suitor, who--so a trustworthy gentleman had told him--was a
-married man, that had planted the seeds of storm. Nor did the filial
-love of the daughter begin to fade and wither because she had been
-taught that the affections, like anything which has a price, should
-be subject to barter and exchange. Deeper far lay the roots of the
-malignant disease--growing as a portion of her being--a part and
-principle of life itself. Environment and education merely had
-inclined into its stunted form the twig, which could never bear fruit
-unless grafted upon a new stalk! And while the sombre girl brooded over
-her strange impersonal passion, there rang in her ears the voice of
-demon-conscience, unceasingly--a taunting, frightful whisper, “When the
-old man is in his grave you shall be happy.”
-
-The esteem of posterity for the eighteenth century, to which belong
-so many noble lives and great minds, has been influenced by the
-well-deserved censure bestowed upon a particular epoch. The year 1750
-marks a period of transition when all the worst characteristics of the
-Georgian era were predominant. For nearly a quarter of a century the
-scornful glance that the boorish little king threw at any book had been
-reflected in the national taste for literature. Art had hobbled along
-bravely on the crutches of caricature, tolerated on account of its
-deformity, and not for its worth. The drama, which had drifted to the
-lowest ebb in the days of Rich and Heidegger, was just rising from its
-mudbank, under the leadership of Garrick, with the turn of the tide.
-Religion, outside the pale of Methodism, was as dead as the influence
-of the Church of England and its plurality divines. The prostitution
-of the marriage laws in the Fleet and Savoy had grown to be a menace
-to the social fabric. London reeked of gin; and although the business
-of Jack Ketch has been seldom more flourishing, property, until
-magistrate Fielding came forward, was never less secure from the thief
-and highwayman. Our second George, who flaunted his mistresses before
-the public gaze, was a worthy leader of a coarse and vicious society.
-Female dress took its form from the vulgarity of the times, and was
-never uglier and more indecent simultaneously. Not only was the ‘modern
-fine lady,’ who wept when a handsome thief was hung, a common type, but
-the Boobys and Bellastons were fashionable women of the day, quite as
-much alive as Elizabeth Chudleigh or Caroline Fitzroy. Such was the age
-of Miss Blandy, and she proved a worthy daughter of it.
-
-In the late summer of 1750 the fickle attorney, who had become weary
-of opposition, consented to withdraw the sentence of banishment he
-had pronounced against his daughter’s lover. Possibly he fancied that
-there was a chance, after all, of the Scotch lieutenant’s success in
-the curious law-courts of the North, and perhaps a present of salmon,
-received from Lady Cranstoun, appeared to him as a favourable augury.
-Consequently the needy fortune-hunter, who was only too ready to return
-to his free quarters, paid another lengthy visit to Henley. As the
-weeks passed, it was evident that the temper of the host and father,
-whose senile humours were swayed by gravel and heartburn, could not
-support the new ménage. Fearful lest the devotion of his Molly had
-caused her to lose all regard for her fair fame, wroth that the clumsy
-little soldier should have disturbed the peace of his household, the
-old man received every mention of “the tiresome affair in Scotland”
-with sneers and gibes. Vanished was the flunkey-optimism that had led
-him to welcome once more the pertinacious slip of Scottish baronage.
-Naught would have appeased him but prompt evidence that the suitor was
-free to lead his daughter to the altar. Nothing could be plainer than
-that the querulous widower had lost all confidence in his unwelcome
-guest.
-
-The faithful lovers were filled with dismay. A few strokes of the pen
-might rob them for ever of their ten thousand pounds. Their wishes
-were the same, their minds worked as one. A deep, cruel soul-blot,
-transmitted perhaps by some cut-throat borderer through the blood
-of generations, would have led William Cranstoun to commit, without
-scruple, the vilest of crimes. Those base attempts to put away his
-wife, and to cast the stigma of bastardy upon his child, added to his
-endeavour to entrap one heiress after another into a bigamous marriage,
-make him guilty of offences less only than murder. In his present
-position he had cause for desperation. Yet, although utterly broken in
-fortune, there was a rich treasure at his hand if he dared to seize
-it. Were her father dead, Molly Blandy, whether as wife or mistress,
-would be his--body, soul, and wealth. Within the veins of the woman
-a like heart-stain spread its poison. All the lawless passion of her
-nature cried out against her parent’s rule, which, to her mind, was
-seeking to banish what had become more precious than her life. Knowing
-that her own fierce will had its mate in his, she believed that his
-obduracy could not be conquered, and she lived in dread lest she should
-be disinherited. And all this time, day after day, the demon-tempter
-whispered, “When the old man is in his grave you shall be happy.”
-
-Which of the guilty pair was the first to suggest the heartless crime
-it is impossible to ascertain, but there is evidence, apart from Miss
-Blandy’s statement, that Cranstoun was the leading spirit. Possibly,
-nay probably, the deed was never mentioned in brutal plainness in so
-many words. The history of crime affords many indications that the
-blackest criminals are obliged to soothe a neurotic conscience with
-the anodyne of make-belief. It is quite credible that the two spoke of
-the projected murder from the first (as indeed Miss Blandy explained
-it later) as an attempt to conciliate the old lawyer by administering
-a supernatural love philtre, having magical qualities like Oberon’s
-flower in _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_, which would make him consent to
-their marriage. Presently a reign of mystic terror seemed to invade the
-little house in the London road. With fear ever present in her eyes,
-the figure of the sombre woman glided from room to room, whispering
-to the frightened servants ghostly tales of things supernatural--of
-unearthly music that she had heard during the misty autumn nights, of
-noises that had awakened her from sleep, of the ghastly apparitions
-that had appeared to her lover. And to all these stories she had
-but one dismal interpretation--saying it had come to her from a
-wizard-woman in Scotland--they were signs and tokens that her father
-would die within a year! Those who heard her listened and trembled,
-and the words sank deep into their memory. So the winter crept on;
-but while all slunk through the house with bated breath, shrinking at
-each mysterious sound, the old man, doomed by the sorceress, remained
-unsuspicious of what was going on around him.
-
-Not long before Christmas, to the great relief of his churlish host,
-the little Scotsman’s clumsy legs passed through the front door for
-the last time, and he set out for his brother’s seat at Crailing in
-the shire of Roxburgh. Yet, though his lengthy visit had come to an
-end, his spirit remained to rule the brain of the woman who loved
-him. Early in the year 1751 she received a box, containing a present
-from Cranstoun, a set of table linen, and some ‘Scotch pebbles.’
-Lawyer Blandy viewed the stones with suspicious eyes, for he hated all
-things beyond the Cheviot Hills, but did not make any comment. The
-relationship between father and daughter had become cold and distant.
-Quarrels were constant in the unhappy home. Often in the midst of
-her passion she was heard to mutter deep curses against the old man.
-Indeed, so banished was her love that she talked without emotion to the
-servants of the likelihood of his death, in fulfilment of the witch’s
-prophecy.
-
-Some weeks later, when another consignment of the mysterious ‘Scotch
-pebbles’ had arrived for Miss Blandy, it was noticed that her conduct
-became still more dark and strange. Slinking through the house with
-slow and stealthy tread, she appeared to shun all eyes, as though bent
-upon some hidden purpose. A glance within the box from the North would
-have revealed the secret. When the crafty accomplice found that she was
-unable to procure the means of taking her father’s life, he had been
-forced to supply her with the weapons. During the spring, the health
-of the old lawyer, who suffered more or less from chronic ailments,
-began to grow more feeble. His garments hung loosely upon his shrunken
-limbs, 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
-with apprehension for every sign and portent, it was fulfilled in many
-direful ways. Early in June, Ann Emmet, an old charwoman employed
-about the house, was seized with a violent illness after drinking from
-a half-emptied cup left at Mr Blandy’s breakfast. A little later,
-Susan Gunnel, one of the maid-servants, was affected in a similar way
-through taking some tea prepared for her master. One August morning,
-in the secrecy of her own chamber, trembling at every footfall beyond
-the locked door, Mary Blandy gazed with eager, awestruck eyes upon a
-message sent by her lover.
-
-“I am sorry there are such occasions to clean your pebbles,” wrote the
-murderous little Scotsman. “You must make use of the powder to them, by
-putting it into anything of substance, wherein it will not swim a-top
-of the water, of which I wrote to you in one of my last. I am afraid it
-will be too weak to take off their rust, or at least it will take too
-long a time.”
-
-From the language of metaphor it is easy to translate the ghastly
-meaning. She must have told Cranstoun that the white arsenic, which he
-had sent to her under the pseudonym of ‘powder to clean the pebbles,’
-remained floating on the surface of the tea. Possibly her father had
-noticed this phenomenon, and, not caring to drink the liquid, had
-escaped the painful sickness which had attacked the less cautious
-servants. But now she had found a remedy--‘anything of substance!’--a
-safe and sure vehicle that could not fail. Louder still in the ears of
-the lost woman rang the mocking words, “When the old man is dead you
-shall be happy.”
-
-During the forenoon of Monday, the 5th of August, Susan Gunnel, the
-maid, met her young mistress coming from the pantry.
-
-“Oh, Susan,” she exclaimed, “I have been stirring my papa’s water
-gruel”; and then, perceiving other servants through the half-open door
-of the laundry, she added gaily, “If I was ever to take to eating
-anything in particular it would be oatmeal.”
-
-No response came from the discreet Susan, but she marvelled, calling to
-mind that Miss Blandy had said to her some time previously, noticing
-that she appeared unwell:
-
-“Have you been eating any water gruel? for I am told that water gruel
-hurts me, and it may hurt you.”
-
-Later in the day, her wonder was increased when she saw her mistress
-stirring the gruel in a half-pint mug, putting her fingers into the
-spoon, and then rubbing them together. In the evening the same mug
-was taken as usual to the old man’s bedroom. On Tuesday night Miss
-Blandy sent down in haste to order gruel for her father, who had been
-indisposed all day, and such was her solicitude that she met the
-footman on the stairs, and taking the basin from his hands, carried
-it herself into the parlour. Early the next morning, while Ann Emmet,
-the old charwoman, was busy at her wash-tub, Susan Gunnel came from
-upstairs.
-
-“Dame,” she observed, “you used to be fond of water gruel. Here is a
-very fine mess my master left last night, and I believe it will do you
-good.”
-
-Sitting down upon a bench, this most unfortunate old lady proceeded to
-consume the contents of the basin, and for a second time was seized
-with a strange and violent illness. Soon afterwards Miss Blandy came
-into the kitchen.
-
-“Susan, as your master has taken physic, he may want some more water
-gruel,” said she. “As there is some in the house you need not make
-fresh, for you are ironing.”
-
-“Madam, it will be stale,” replied the servant. “It will not hinder me
-much to make fresh.”
-
-A little later, while tasting the stuff, Susan noticed a white sediment
-at the bottom of the pan. Greatly excited, she ran to show Betty
-Binfield, the cook, who bore no good-will towards her young mistress.
-
-“What oatmeal is this?” asked Betty, significantly. “It looks like
-flour.”
-
-“I have never seen oatmeal as white before,” said the maid.
-
-Carefully and thoroughly the suspicious servants examined the contents
-of the saucepan, taking it out of doors to view it in the light. And
-while they looked at the white gritty sediment they told each other in
-low whispers that this must be poison. Locking up the pan, they showed
-it next day to the local apothecary, who, as usual in those times, was
-the sick man’s medical attendant.
-
-Nothing occurred to alarm the guilty woman until Saturday. On that
-morning, in the homely fashion of middle-class manners, the lawyer, who
-wanted to shave, came into the kitchen, where hot water and a good fire
-were ready for him. Accustomed to his habits, the servants went about
-their work as usual. Some trouble seemed to be preying upon his mind.
-
-“I was like to have been poisoned once,” piped the feeble old man,
-turning his bloodshot eyes upon his daughter, who was in the room.
-
-“It was on this same day, the tenth of August,” he continued, in his
-weak, trembling voice, for his frame had become shattered during the
-last week. “It was at the coffee-house or at the Lyon, and two other
-gentlemen were like to have been poisoned by what they drank.”
-
-“Sir, I remember it very well,” replied the imperturbable woman, and
-then fell to arguing with her querulous father at which tavern the
-adventure had taken place.
-
-“One of the gentlemen died immediately,” he resumed, looking at her
-with a long, reproachful glance. “The other is dead now, and I have
-survived them both. But”--his piteous gaze grew more intense--“it is my
-fortune to be poisoned at last.”
-
-A similar ordeal took place in a little while. At breakfast Mr Blandy
-seemed in great pain, making many complaints. As he sipped his tea, he
-declared that it had a gritty, bad taste, and would not drink it.
-
-“Have you not put too much of the black stuff into it?” he demanded
-suddenly of his daughter, referring to the canister of Bohea.
-
-This time she was unable to meet his searching eyes.
-
-“It is as usual,” she stammered in confusion.
-
-A moment later she rose, trembling and distressed, and hurriedly left
-the room.
-
-There was reason for the old man’s suspicion. Before he had risen from
-his bed, the faithful Susan Gunnel told him of the discovery in the pan
-of water gruel, and both agreed that the mysterious powder had been
-sent by Cranstoun. Yet, beyond what he had said at breakfast, and in
-the kitchen, he questioned his daughter no more! Still, although no
-direct charge had been made, alarmed by her father’s hints she hastened
-to destroy all evidence that could be used against her. During the
-afternoon, stealing into the kitchen under pretence of drying a letter
-before the fire, she crushed a paper among the coals. As soon as she
-was gone the watchful spies--servants Gunnel and Binfield--snatched it
-away before it had been destroyed by the flames. This paper contained a
-white substance, and on it was written ‘powder to clean the pebbles.’
-Towards evening famous Dr Addington arrived from Reading, summoned by
-Miss Blandy, who was driven on account of her fears to show a great
-concern. After seeing his patient the shrewd old leech had no doubt as
-to the symptoms. With habitual directness he told the daughter that her
-father had been poisoned.
-
-“It is impossible,” she replied.
-
-On Sunday morning the doctor found the sick man a little better, but
-ordered him to keep his bed. Startling proofs of the accuracy of his
-diagnosis were forthcoming. One of the maids put into his hands the
-packet of arsenic found in the fire; while Norton the apothecary
-produced the powder from the pan of gruel. Addington at once took the
-guilty woman to task.
-
-“If your father dies,” he told her sternly, “you will inevitably be
-ruined.”
-
-Nevertheless she appears to have brazened the matter out, but desired
-the doctor to come again the next day. When she was alone, her first
-task was to scribble a note to Cranstoun, which she gave to her
-father’s clerk to “put into the post.” Having heard dark rumours
-whispered by the servants that Mr Blandy had been poisoned by his
-daughter, the man had no hesitation in opening the letter, which he
-handed over to the apothecary. It ran as follows:--
-
- “DEAR WILLY,--My father is so bad that I have only time to
- tell you that if you do not hear from me soon again, don’t be
- frightened. I am better myself. Lest any accident should happen
- to your letters be careful what you write.
-
- “My sincere compliments.--I am ever, yours.”
-
-That evening Norton ordered Miss Blandy from her father’s room,
-telling 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 than blind denial. Still, the poor old sufferer persisted
-that Cranstoun was the sole author of the mischief. On Monday morning,
-although sick almost to death, he sent the maid with a message to his
-daughter.
-
-“Tell her,” said he, “that I will forgive her if she will bring that
-villain to justice.”
-
-In answer to his words, Miss Blandy came to her father’s bedroom in
-tears, and a suppliant. Susan Gunnel, who was present, thus reports the
-interview.
-
-“Sir, how do you do?” said she.
-
-“I am very ill,” he replied.
-
-Falling upon her knees, she said to him:
-
-“Banish me or send me to any remote part of the world. As to Mr
-Cranstoun, I will never see him, speak to him, as long as I live, so as
-you will forgive me.”
-
-“I forgive thee, my dear,” he answered. “And I hope God will forgive
-thee, but thee should have considered better than to have attempted
-anything against thy father. Thee shouldst have considered I was thy
-own father.”
-
-“Sir,” she protested, “as to your illness I am entirely innocent.”
-
-“Madam,” interrupted old Susan Gunnel, “I believe you must not say you
-are entirely innocent, for the powder that was taken out of the water
-gruel, and the paper of powder that was taken out of the fire, are now
-in such hands that they must be publicly produced. I believe I had one
-dose prepared for my master in a dish of tea about six weeks ago.”
-
-“I have put no powder into tea,” replied Miss Blandy. “I have put
-powder into water gruel, and if you are injured,” she assured her
-father, “I am entirely innocent, for it was given me with another
-intent.”
-
-The dying man did not wait for further explanation, but, turning in his
-bed, he cried:
-
-“Oh, such a villain! To come to my house, eat of the best, drink of
-the best that my house could afford--to take away my life, and ruin my
-daughter! Oh, my dear,” he continued, “thee must hate that man, thee
-must hate the ground he treads on. Thee canst not help it.”
-
-“Oh, sir, your tenderness towards me is like a sword to my heart,” she
-answered. “Every word you say is like swords piercing my heart--much
-worse than if you were to be ever so angry. I must down on my knees and
-beg you will not curse me.”
-
-“I curse thee, my dear!” he replied. “How couldst thou think I could
-curse thee? I bless thee, and hope that God will bless thee and amend
-thy life. Go, my dear, go out of my room.... Say no more, lest thou
-shouldst say anything to thy own prejudice.... Go to thy uncle Stevens;
-take him for thy friend. Poor man,--I am sorry for him.”
-
-The memory of the old servant, who repeated the above conversation
-in her evidence at Miss Blandy’s trial, would seem remarkable did
-we not bear in mind that she went through various rehearsals before
-the coroner and magistrates, and possibly with the lawyers for the
-prosecution. Some embellishments also must be credited to the taste
-and fancy of Mr Rivington’s reporters. Still, the gist must be true,
-and certainly has much pathos. Yet the father’s forgiveness of his
-daughter, when he must have known that her conduct was wilful, although
-piteous and noble, may not have been the result of pure altruism.
-Naturally, the wish that Cranstoun alone was guilty was parent to the
-thought. Whether the approach of eternity brought a softening influence
-upon him, and he saw his follies and errors in the light of repentance,
-or whether the ruling passion strong in death made the vain old man
-struggle to avert the black disgrace that threatened his good name, and
-the keen legal intellect, which could counsel his daughter so well,
-foresaw the coming escheatment of his small estate to the lord of the
-manor, are problems for the student of psychology.
-
-During the course of the day brother leech Lewis of Oxford--a
-master-builder of pharmacopœia--was summoned by the sturdy begetter of
-statesmen, and there was much bobbing of learned wigs and nice conduct
-of medical canes. Addington asked the dying man whom he suspected to be
-the giver of the poison.
-
-“A poor love-sick girl,” murmured the old lawyer, smiling through his
-tears. “I forgive her--I always thought there was mischief in those
-cursed Scotch pebbles.”
-
-In the evening a drastic step was taken. Acting on the principle of
-‘thorough,’ which made his son’s occupancy of the Home Office so
-memorable at a later period, the stern doctor accused Miss Blandy
-of the crime, and secured her keys and papers. Conquered by fear,
-the stealthy woman for a while lost all self-possession. In an agony
-of shame and terror she sought to shield herself by the pretence of
-superstitious folly. Wringing her hands in a seeming agony of remorse,
-she declared that her lover had ruined her.
-
-“I received the powder from Mr Cranstoun,” she cried, “with a present
-of Scotch pebbles. He had wrote on the paper that held it, ‘The powder
-to clean the pebbles with.’ He assured me that it was harmless, and
-that if I would give my father some of it now and then, a little and a
-little at a time, in any liquid, it would make him kind to him and to
-me.”
-
-In a few scathing questions the worldly-wise Addington cast ridicule
-upon this weird story of a love philtre. Taking the law into his own
-resolute hands, with the consent of colleague Lewis he locked the
-wretched woman in her room and placed a guard over her. Little could be
-done to relieve the sufferings of poor ten-thousand-pound Blandy--who
-proved to be a mere four-thousand-pound attorney when it came to the
-test--and on Wednesday afternoon, the 14th of August, he closed his
-proud old eyes for ever. In her desperation the guilty daughter could
-think of naught but escape. On the evening of her fathers death,
-impelled by an irresistible frenzy to flee from the scene of her
-butchery, she begged the footman in vain to assist her to get away.
-During Thursday morning--for it was not possible to keep her in custody
-without legal warrant--a little group of children saw a dishevelled
-figure coming swiftly along the High Street towards the river. At once
-there arose the cry of ‘Murderess!’ and, surrounded by an angry mob,
-she was driven to take refuge in a neighbouring inn. It was vain to
-battle against fate. That same afternoon the coroner’s inquest was
-held, and the verdict pronounced her a parricide. On the following
-Saturday, in charge of two constables, she was driven in her father’s
-carriage to Oxford Castle. An enraged populace, thinking that she was
-trying again to escape, surrounded the vehicle, and sought to prevent
-her from leaving the town.
-
-Owing to the social position of the accused, and the enormity of her
-offence, the eyes of the whole nation were turned to the tragedy at
-Henley. Gossips of the day, such as Horace Walpole and Tate Wilkinson,
-tell us that the story of Miss Blandy was upon every lip. In spite of
-the noble irony of ‘Drawcansir’ Fielding, journalists and pamphleteers
-had no scruple in referring to the prisoner as a wicked murderess or a
-cruel parricide. Yet the case of Henry Coleman, who, during the August
-of this year, had been proved innocent of a crime for which he had
-suffered death, should have warned the public against hasty assumption.
-For six months the dark woman was waiting for her trial. Although it
-was the custom for a jailor to make an exhibition of his captive to
-anyone who would pay the entrance fee, nobody was allowed to see Miss
-Blandy without her consent. Two comfortable rooms were set apart for
-her in the keeper’s house; she was free to take walks in the garden,
-and to have her own maid. At last, when stories of a premeditated
-escape were noised abroad, Secretary Newcastle, in a usual state of
-fuss, fearing that she might repeat the achievement of Queen Maud, gave
-orders that she must be put in irons. At first Thomas Newell, who had
-succeeded her father as town clerk of Henley four years previously, was
-employed in her defence, but he offended her by speaking of Cranstoun
-as “a mean-looking, little, ugly fellow,” and so she dismissed him in
-favour of Mr Rives, a lawyer from Woodstock. Her old invincible courage
-had returned, and only once--when she learnt the paltry value of her
-father’s fortune--did she lose self-possession. For a dismal echo must
-have come back in the mocking words, “When the old man is in his grave
-you shall be happy.”
-
-At last the magistrates--Lords Cadogan and ‘New-Style’ Macclesfield,
-who had undertaken duties which in later days Mr Newton or Mr
-Montagu Williams would have shared with Scotland Yard--finish their
-much-praised detective work, and on Tuesday, the 3rd of March 1752,
-Mary Blandy is brought to the bar. The Court meets in the divinity
-school, since the town-hall is in the hands of the British workman,
-and because the University, so ‘Sir Alexander Drawcansir’ tells his
-readers, will not allow the use of the Sheldonian Theatre. Why the most
-beautiful room in Oxford should be deemed a fitter place of desecration
-than the archbishop’s monstrosity is not made clear. An accident
-delays the trial--this second ‘Great Oyer of Poisoning!’ There is a
-small stone or other obstruction in the lock--can some sentimental,
-wry-brained undergraduate think to aid the gallows-heroine of his
-fancy?--and while it is being removed, Judges Legge and Smythe return
-to their lodgings.
-
-[Illustration: _THE DIVINITY SCHOOL, OXFORD._]
-
-At eight o’clock, Mary Blandy, calm and stately, stands beneath the
-graceful fretted ceiling, facing the tribunal. From wall to wall an
-eager crowd has filled the long chamber, surging through the doorway,
-flowing in at the open windows, jostling even against the prisoner.
-A chair is placed for her in case of fatigue, and her maid is by
-her side. A plain and neat dress befits her serene manner--a black
-bombazine short _sacque_ (the garb of mourning), white linen kerchief,
-and a thick crape shade and hood. From the memory of those present
-her countenance can never fade. A broad high forehead, above which
-her thick jet hair is smoothed under a cap; a pair of fine black
-sparkling eyes; the colouring almost of a gipsy; cheeks with scarce
-a curve; mouth full, but showing no softness; nose large, straight,
-determined--it is the face of one of those rare women who command, not
-the love, but the obedience of mankind. Still it is intelligent, not
-unseductive, compelling; and yet, in spite of the deep, flashing eyes,
-without radiance of soul--the face of a sombre-hearted woman.
-
-Black, indeed, is the indictment that Bathurst, a venerable young
-barrister who represents the Crown, unfolds against her, but only once
-during his burst of carefully-matured eloquence is there any change in
-her serenity. When the future Lord Chancellor declares that the base
-Cranstoun “had fallen in love, not with her, but with her fortune,” the
-woman’s instinct cannot tolerate the reflection upon her charms, and
-she darts a look of bitterest scorn upon the speaker. And only once
-does she show a trace of human softness. When her godmother, old Mrs
-Mountenay, is leaving the witness-box, she repeats the curtsey which
-the prisoner had previously disregarded, and then, in an impulse of
-pity, presses forward, and, seizing Miss Blandy’s hand, exclaims, “God
-bless you!” At last, and for the first time, the tears gather in the
-accused woman’s eyes.
-
-Many abuses, handed down from a previous century, still render
-barbarous the procedure of criminal trials. The case is hurried over in
-one day; counsel for the prisoner can only examine witnesses, but not
-address the jury; the prosecution is accustomed to put forward evidence
-of which the defence has been kept in ignorance. Yet no injustice is
-done to Mary Blandy. Thirteen hours is enough to tear the veil from her
-sombre heart; the tongue of Nestor would fail to show her innocent; of
-all that her accusers can say of her she is well aware. Never for one
-moment is the issue in doubt. What can her scoffing, sceptic age, with
-its cold-blooded sentiment and tame romance, think of a credulity that
-employed a love-potion in the guise of affection but with the result
-of death! How is it possible to judge a daughter who persisted in her
-black art, although its dire effects were visible, not once, but many
-times! Her defence, when at last it comes, is spoken bravely, but
-better had been left unsaid.
-
-“My lords,” she begins, “it is morally impossible for me to lay down
-the hardships I have received. I have been aspersed in my character. In
-the first place, it has been said that I have spoke ill of my father;
-that I have cursed him and wished him at hell; which is extremely
-false. Sometimes little family affairs have happened, and he did not
-speak to me so kind as I could wish. I own I am passionate, my lords,
-and in those passions some hasty expressions might have dropt. But
-great care has been taken to recollect every word I have spoken at
-different times, and to apply them to such particular purposes as my
-enemies knew would do me the greatest injury. These are hardships, my
-lords, extreme hardships!--such as you yourselves must allow to be
-so. It was said, too, my lords, that I endeavoured to make my escape.
-Your lordships will judge from the difficulties I laboured under. I
-had lost my father--I was accused of being his murderer--I was not
-permitted to go near him--I was forsaken by my friends--affronted
-by the mob--insulted by my servants. Although I begged to have the
-liberty to listen at the door where he died, I was not allowed it. My
-keys were taken from me, my shoe-buckles and garters too--to prevent
-me from making away with myself, as though I was the most abandoned
-creature. What could I do, my lords? I verily believe I was out of my
-senses. When I heard my father was dead and the door open, I ran out
-of the house, and over the bridge, and had nothing on but a half sack
-and petticoat, without a hoop, my petticoats hanging about me. The mob
-gathered about me. Was this a condition, my lords, to make my escape
-in? A good woman beyond the bridge, seeing me in this distress, desired
-me to walk in till the mob was dispersed. The town sergeant was there.
-I begged he would take me under his protection to have me home. The
-woman said it was not proper, the mob was very great, and that I had
-better stay a little. When I came home they said I used the constable
-ill. I was locked up for fifteen hours, with only an old servant of the
-family to attend me. I was not allowed a maid for the common decencies
-of my sex. I was sent to gaol, and was in hopes, there, at least, this
-usage would have ended, but was told it was reported I was frequently
-drunk--that I attempted to make my escape--that I never attended the
-chapel. A more abstemious woman, my lords, I believe, does not live.
-
-“Upon the report of my making my escape, the gentleman who was High
-Sheriff last year (not the present) came and told me, by order of the
-higher powers, he must put an iron on me. I submitted, as I always
-do to the higher powers. Some time after, he came again, and said he
-must put a heavier upon me, which I have worn, my lords, till I came
-hither. I asked the Sheriff why I was so ironed? He said he did it by
-command of some noble peer, on his hearing that I intended to make my
-escape. I told them I never had such a thought, and I would bear it
-with the other cruel usage I had received on my character. The Rev. Mr.
-Swinton, the worthy clergyman who attended me in prison, can testify
-that I was very regular at the chapel when I was well. Sometimes I
-really was not able to come out, and then he attended me in my room.
-They likewise published papers and depositions which ought not to have
-been published, in order to represent me as the most abandoned of my
-sex, and to prejudice the world against me. I submit myself to your
-lordships, and to the worthy jury. I can assure your lordships, as I
-am to answer it before that Grand Tribunal where I must appear, I am
-as innocent as the child unborn of the death of my father. I would not
-endeavour to save my life at the expense of truth. I really thought
-the powder an innocent, inoffensive thing, and I gave it to procure
-his love. It was mentioned, I should say, I was ruined. My lords,
-when a young woman loses her character, is not that her ruin? Why,
-then, should this expression be construed in so wide a sense? Is it
-not ruining my character to have such a thing laid to my charge? And
-whatever may be the event of this trial, I am ruined most effectually.”
-
-A strange apology--amazing in its effrontery!
-
-Gentle Heneage Legge speaks long and tenderly, while the listeners
-shudder with horror as they hear the dismal history unfolded in all
-entirety for the first time. No innocent heart could have penned that
-last brief warning to her lover--none but an accomplice would have
-received his cryptic message. Every word in the testimony of the stern
-doctor seems to hail her parricide--every action of her stealthy career
-has been noted by the watchful eyes of her servants. And, as if in
-damning confirmation of her guilt, there is the black record of her
-flight from the scene of crime. Eight o’clock has sounded when the
-judge has finished. For a few moments the jury converse in hurried
-whispers. It is ominous that they make no attempt to leave the court,
-but merely draw closer together. Then, after the space of five minutes
-they turn, and the harsh tones of the clerk of arraigns sound through
-the chamber.
-
-“Mary Blandy, hold up thy hand.... Gentlemen of the jury, look upon the
-prisoner. How say you: Is Mary Blandy guilty of the felony and murder
-whereof she stands indicted, or not guilty?”
-
-“Guilty!” comes the low, reluctant answer.
-
-Never has more piteous drama been played within the cold fair walls
-of the divinity school than that revealed by the guttering candles on
-this chill March night. Amidst the long black shadows, through which
-gleam countless rows of pallid faces, in the deep silence, broken at
-intervals by hushed sobs, the invincible woman stands with unruffled
-mien to receive her sentence. As the verdict is declared, a smile seems
-to play upon her lips. While the judge, with tearful eyes and broken
-voice, pronounces her doom, she listens without a sign of fear. There
-is a brief, breathless pause, while all wait with fierce-beating hearts
-for her reply. No trace of terror impedes her utterance. Thanking the
-judge for his candour and impartiality, she turns to her counsel, among
-whom only Richard Aston rose to eminence, and, with a touch of pretty
-forethought, wishes them better success in their other causes. Then,
-and her voice grows more solemn, she begs for a little time to settle
-her affairs and to make her peace with God. To which his lordship
-replies with great emotion:
-
-“To be sure, you shall have proper time allowed you.”
-
-When she is conducted from the court she steps into her coach with the
-air of a belle whose chair is to take her to a fashionable rout. The
-fatal news has reached the prison before her arrival. As she enters
-the keeper’s house, which for so long has been her home, she finds the
-family overcome with grief and the children all in tears.
-
-“Don’t mind it,” she cries, cheerfully. “What does it matter? I am very
-hungry. Pray let me have something for supper as soon as possible.”
-
-That sombre heart of hers is a brave one also.
-
-All this time William Cranstoun, worthy brother in all respects of
-Simon Tappertit, had been in hiding--in Scotland perhaps, or, as some
-say, in Northumberland--watching with fearful quakings for the result
-of the trial. Shortly after the conviction of his accomplice he managed
-to take ship to the Continent, and luckily for his country he never
-polluted its soil again. There are several contemporary accounts of
-his adventures in France and in the Netherlands, to which the curious
-may refer. All agree that he confessed his share in the murder when
-he was safe from justice. With unaccustomed propriety, our Lady Fate
-soon hastened to snap the thread of his existence, and on the 3rd of
-December of this same year, at the little town of Furnes in Flanders,
-aged thirty-eight, he drew his last breath. A short time before, being
-seized with remorse for his sins, he had given the Catholic Church the
-honour of enrolling him a proselyte. Indeed the conversion of so great
-a ruffian was regarded as such a feather in their cap that the good
-monks and friars advertised the event by means of a sumptuous funeral.
-
-Worthy Judge Legge fulfils his promise to the unhappy Miss Blandy, and
-she is given six weeks in which to prepare herself for death. Meek
-and more softened is the sombre woman, who, like a devoted penitent,
-submits herself day after day to the vulgar gaze of a hundred eyes,
-while she bows in all humility before the altar of her God. Yet her
-busy brain is aware that those to whom she looks for intercession
-are keeping a careful watch upon her demeanour. For she has begged
-her godmother Mrs Mountenay to ask one of the bishops to speak for
-her; she is said to entertain the hope that the recently-bereaved
-Princess will endeavour to obtain a reprieve. In the fierce war of
-pamphleteers, inevitable in those days, she takes her share, playing
-with incomparable tact to the folly of the credulous. Although the
-majority, perhaps, believe her guilty, she knows that a considerable
-party is in her favour. On the 20th of March is published “A Letter
-from a Clergyman to Miss Blandy, with her Answer,” in which she tells
-the story of her share in the tragedy. During the remainder of her
-imprisonment she extends this narrative into a long account of the
-whole case--assisted, it is believed, by her spiritual adviser, the
-Rev. John Swinton, who, afflicted possibly by one of his famous fits
-of woolgathering, seems convinced of her innocence. No human effort,
-however, is of any avail. Both the second and third George, knowing
-their duty as public entertainers, seldom cheated the gallows of a
-victim of distinction.
-
-Originally the execution had been fixed for Saturday, the 4th of April,
-but is postponed until the following Monday, because the University
-authorities do not think it seemly that the sentence shall be carried
-out during Holy Week. A great crowd collects in the early morning
-outside the prison walls before the announcement of the short reprieve,
-and it speaks marvels for the discipline of the gaol that Miss Blandy
-is allowed to go up into rooms facing the Castle Green so that she can
-view the throng. Gazing upon the assembly without a tremor, she says
-merely that she will not balk their expectations much longer. On Sunday
-she takes sacrament for the last time, and signs a declaration in which
-she denies once more all knowledge that the powder was poisonous. In
-the evening, hearing that the Sheriff has arrived in the town, she
-sends a request that she may not be disturbed until eight o’clock the
-next morning.
-
-It was half-past the hour she had named when the dismal procession
-reached the door of her chamber. The Under-Sheriff was accompanied by
-the Rev. John Swinton, and by her friend Mr Rives, the lawyer. Although
-her courage did not falter, she appeared meek and repentant, and spoke
-with anxiety of her future state, in doubt whether she would obtain
-pardon for her sins. This penitent mood encouraged the clergyman to beg
-her declare the whole truth, to which she replied that she must persist
-in asserting her innocence to the end. No entreaty would induce her to
-retract the solemn avowal.
-
-At nine o’clock she was conducted from her room, dressed in the same
-black gown that she had worn at the trial, with her hands and arms
-tied by strong black silk ribbons. A crowd of five thousand persons,
-hushed and expectant, was waiting on the Castle Green to witness her
-sufferings. Thirty yards from the door of the gaol, whence she was led
-into the open air, stood the gallows--a beam placed across the arms
-of two trees. Against it lay a step-ladder covered with black cloth.
-The horror of her crime must have been forgotten by all who gazed upon
-the calm and brave woman. For truly she died like a queen. Serene and
-fearless she walked to the fatal spot, and joined most fervently with
-the clergyman in prayer. After this was ended they told her that if she
-wished she might speak to the spectators.
-
-“Good people,” she cried, in a clear, audible voice, “give me leave
-to declare to you that I am perfectly innocent as to any intention
-to destroy or even hurt my dear father; that I did not know, or even
-suspect, that there was any poisonous quality in the fatal powder
-I gave him; though I can never be too much punished for being the
-innocent cause of his death. As to my mother’s and Mrs Pocock’s deaths,
-that have been unjustly laid to my charge, I am not even the innocent
-cause of them, nor did I in the least contribute to them. So help
-me, God, in these my last moments. And may I not meet with eternal
-salvation, nor be acquitted by Almighty God, in whose awful presence I
-am instantly to appear hereafter, if the whole of what is here asserted
-is not true. I from the bottom of my soul forgive all those concerned
-in my prosecution; and particularly the jury, notwithstanding their
-fatal verdict.”
-
-Then, having ascended five steps of the ladder, she turned to the
-officials. “Gentlemen,” she requested, with a show of modesty, “do
-not hang me high.” The humanity of those whose task it was to put her
-to death, forced them to ask her to go a little higher. Climbing two
-steps more, she then looked round, and trembling, said, “I am afraid
-I shall fall.” Still, her invincible courage enabled her to address
-the crowd once again. “Good people,” she said, “take warning by me
-to be on your guard against the sallies of any irregular passion, and
-pray for me that I may be accepted at the Throne of Grace.” While the
-rope was being placed around her neck it touched her face, and she
-gave a deep sigh. Then with her own fingers she moved it to one side.
-A white handkerchief had been bound across her forehead, and she drew
-it over her features. As it did not come low enough, a woman, who had
-attended her and who had fixed the noose around her throat, stepped up
-and pulled it down. For a while she stood in prayer, and then gave the
-signal by thrusting out a little book which she held in her hand. The
-ladder was moved from under her feet, and in obedience to the laws of
-her country she was suspended in the air, swaying and convulsed, until
-the grip of the rope choked the breath from her body.
-
-Horrible! Yet only in degree are our own methods different from those
-employed a hundred and fifty years ago.
-
-During the whole of the sad tragedy, the crowd, unlike the howling mob
-at Tyburn, maintained an awestruck silence. There were few dry eyes,
-though the sufferer did not shed a tear, and hundreds of those who
-witnessed her death went away convinced of her innocence. An elegant
-young man named Edward Gibbon, with brain wrapped in the mists of
-theology, who for three days had been gentleman commoner at Magdalen,
-does not appear to have been attracted to the scene. Surely George
-Selwyn must be maligned, else he would have posted to Oxford to witness
-this spectacle. It would have been his only opportunity of seeing a
-gentlewoman in the hands of the executioner.
-
-After hanging for half an hour with the feet, in consequence of her
-request, almost touching the ground, the body was carried upon the
-shoulders of one of the sheriff’s men to a neighbouring house. At five
-o’clock in the afternoon the coffin containing her remains was taken
-in a hearse to Henley, where, in the dead of night, amidst a vast
-concourse, it was interred in the chancel of the parish church between
-the graves of her father and mother.
-
-So died ‘the unfortunate Miss Blandy’ in the thirty-second year of her
-age--with a grace and valour which no scene on the scaffold has ever
-excelled. If, as the authors of _The Beggars Opera_ and _The History
-of Jonathan Wild_ have sought to show, in playful irony, the greatness
-of the criminal is comparable with the greatness of the statesman,
-then she must rank with Mary of Scotland and Catherine of Russia among
-the queens of crime. Hers was the soul of steel, theirs also the
-opportunity.
-
-In every period the enormity of a sin can be estimated only by its
-relation to the spirit of the age; and in spite of cant and sophistry,
-the contemporaries of Miss Blandy made no legal distinction between
-the crimes of parricide and petty larceny. Nay, the same rope that
-strangled the brutal cut-throat in a few moments might prolong the
-agony of a poor thief for a quarter of an hour. Had the doctors
-succeeded in saving the life of the old attorney, the strange law which
-in later times put to death Elizabeth Fenning would have been powerless
-to demand the life of Mary Blandy for a similar offence. The protests
-of Johnson and Fielding against the iniquity of the criminal code fell
-on idle ears.
-
-Thus we may not judge Mary Blandy from the standpoint of our own
-moral grandeur, for she is a being of another world--one of the vain,
-wilful, selfish children to whom an early Guelph was king--merely
-one of the blackest sheep in a flock for the most part ill-favoured.
-As we gaze upon her portrait there comes a feeling that we do not
-know this sombre woman after all, for though the artist has produced
-a faithful resemblance, we perceive there is something lacking.
-We look into part, not into her whole soul. None but one of the
-immortals--Rembrandt, or his peer--could have shown this queen among
-criminals as she was: an iron-hearted, remorseless, demon-woman, her
-fair, cruel visage raised mockingly amidst a chiaroscuro of crime and
-murkiness unspeakable.
-
- “a narrow, foxy face,
- Heart-hiding smile, and gay persistent eye.”
-
-In our own country the women of gentle birth who have been convicted
-of murder since the beginning of the eighteenth century may be
-counted on the fingers of one hand. Mary Blandy, Constance Kent,
-Florence Maybrick--for that unsavoury person, Elizabeth Jefferies,
-has no claim to be numbered in the roll, and the verdict against
-beautiful Madeleine Smith was ‘Not proven’--these names exhaust the
-list. And of them, the first alone paid the penalty at the gallows.
-The annals of crime contain the records of many parricides, some
-that have been premeditated with devilish art, but scarce one that a
-daughter has wrought by the most loathsome of coward’s weapons. In
-comparison with the murderess of Henley, even Frances Howard and Anne
-Turner were guilty of a venial crime. Mary Blandy stands alone and
-incomparable--pilloried to all ages among the basest of her sex.
-
-Yet the world soon forgot her. “Since the two misses were hanged,”
-chats Horace Walpole on the 23rd of June, coupling irreverently the
-names of Blandy and Jefferies with the beautiful Gunnings--“since the
-two misses were hanged, and the two misses were married, there is
-nothing at all talked of.” Society, however, soon found a new thrill in
-the adventures of the young woman Elizabeth Canning.
-
-[Illustration: Miss MARY BLANDY
-
-_B. Cole Sculp_
-
-_Aged 33 and Executed at OXFORD April 6, 1752, for poisoning her
-Father._]
-
-
-BIBLIOGRAPHY OF THE BLANDY CASE
-
-I. CONTEMPORARY TRACTS
-
-1. _An Authentic Narrative of that Most Horrid Parricide._ (Printed in
-the year 1751. Name of publisher in second edition, M. Cooper.)
-
-2. _A Genuine and Full Account of the Parricide_ committed by Mary
-Blandy, Oxford; Printed for, and sold by C. Goddard in the High St, and
-sold by R. Walker in the little Old Bailey, and by all booksellers and
-pamphlet Shops. (Published November 9, 1751.)
-
-3. _A Letter from a Clergyman to Miss Mary Blandy with her Answer
-thereto_.... As also Miss Blandy’s Own Narrative. London; Printed for
-M. Cooper at the Globe in Paternoster Row. 1752. Price four pence.
-Brit. Mus. (March 20, 1752.)
-
-4. _An Answer to Miss Blandy’s Narrative._ London; Printed for W. Owen,
-near Temple Bar. 1752. Price 3d. Brit. Mus. (March 27, 1752.)
-
-5. _The Case of Miss Blandy considered_ as a Daughter, as a
-Gentlewoman, and as a Christian. Oxford; Printed for R. Baldwin, at the
-Rose in Paternoster Row. Brit. Mus. (April 6, 1752.)
-
-6. _Original Letters to and from Miss Blandy and C---- C----_, London.
-Printed for S. Johnson, near the Haymarket, Charing Cross. 1752. Brit.
-Mus. (April 8, 1752.)
-
-7. _A Genuine and Impartial Account of the Life of Miss M. Blandy._ W.
-Jackson and R. Walker. (April 9, 1752.)
-
-8. _Miss Mary Blandy’s Own Account._ London; Printed for A. Millar in
-the Strand. 1752 (price one shilling and sixpence). N.B. The Original
-Account authenticated by Miss Blandy in a proper manner may be seen
-at the above A. Millar’s. Brit. Mus. (April 10, 1752. The most famous
-apologia in criminal literature.)
-
-9. _A Candid Appeal to the Public, by a Gentleman of Oxford._ London.
-Printed for J. Clifford in the Old Bailey, and sold at the Pamphleteer
-Shops. 1752. Price 6d. Brit. Mus. (April 15, 1752.)
-
-10. _The Tryal of Mary Blandy._ Published by Permission of the Judges.
-London. Printed for John and James Rivington at the Bible and Crown and
-in St Paul’s Churchyard. 1752. In folio price two shillings. 8vo. one
-shilling. Brit. Mus. (April 24, 1752.)
-
-11. _The Genuine Histories_ of the Life and Transactions of John Swan
-and Eliz. Jeffries, ... and Miss Mary Blandy, London. Printed and
-sold by T. Bailey opposite the Pewter-Pot-Inn in Leadenhall Street.
-(Published after April 10, 1752.)
-
-12. _An Authentic and full History of all the Circumstances of the
-Cruel Poisoning of Mr. Francis Blandy_, printed only for Mr. Wm. Owen,
-Bookseller at Temple Bar, London, and R. Goadby in Sherborne. Brit.
-Mus. (Without date. From pp. 113-132 the pamphlet resembles the “Answer
-to Miss Blandy’s Narrative,” published also by Wm. Owen.)
-
-13. _The Authentic Tryals of John Swan and Elizabeth Jeffryes_.... With
-the Tryal of Miss Mary Blandy, London. Printed by R. Walker for W.
-Richards, near the East Gate, Oxford. 1752. Brit. Mus. (Published later
-than the “Candid Appeal.”)
-
-14. _The Fair Parricide._ A Tragedy in three acts. Founded on a late
-melancholy event. London. Printed for T. Waller, opp. Fetter Lane.
-Fleet Street (price 1/). Brit. Mus. (May 5, 1752.)
-
-15. _The Genuine Speech of the Hon. Mr ----_, at the late Trial of Miss
-Blandy, London; Printed for J. Roberts in Warwick Lane. 1752. (Price
-sixpence.) Brit. Mus. (May 15, 1752.)
-
-16. _The x x x x Packet Broke Open_, or a letter from Miss Blandy in
-the Shades below to Capt. Cranstoun in his exile above. London. Printed
-for M. Cooper at the Globe in Paternoster Row. 1752. Price 6d. Brit.
-Mus. (May 16, 1752.)
-
-17. _The Secret History of Miss Blandy._ London. Printed for Henry
-Williams, and sold by the booksellers at the Exchange, in Ludgate St,
-at Charing Cross, and St. James. Price 1s. 6d. Brit. Mus. (June 11,
-1752. A sane and well-written account of the whole story.)
-
-18. _Memoires of the Life of Wm. Henry Cranstoun Esqre._ London.
-Printed for J. Bouquet, at the White Hart, in Paternoster Row; 1752.
-Price one shilling. Brit. Mus. (June 18, 1752.)
-
-19. _The Genuine Lives of Capt. Cranstoun and Miss Mary Blandy._
-London. Printed for M. Cooper, Paternoster Row, and C. Sympson at the
-Bible Warehouse, Chancery Lane. 1753. Price one shilling. Brit. Mus.
-
-20. _Capt. Cranstoun’s Account of the poisoning of the Late Mr. Francis
-Blandy._ London. Printed for R. Richards, the Corner of Bernard’s-Inn,
-near the Black Swan, Holborn. Brit. Mus. (March 1-3, 1753.)
-
-21. _Memories of the life and most remarkable transactions of Capt.
-William Henry Cranstoun._ Containing an account of his conduct in his
-younger years. His letter to his wife to persuade her to disown him as
-her husband. His trial in Scotland, and the Court’s decree thereto. His
-courtship of Miss Blandy; his success therein, and the tragical issue
-of that affair. His voluntary exile abroad with the several accidents
-that befel him from his flight to his death. His reconciliation to the
-Church of Rome, with the Conversation he had with a Rev. Father of the
-Church at the time of his conversion. His miserable death, and pompous
-funeral. Printed for M. Cooper in Paternoster Row; W. Reeve in Fleet
-Street; and C. Sympson in Chancery Lane. Price 6d. With a curious print
-of Capt. Cranstoun. Brit. Mus. (March 10-13, 1753. As the title-page of
-this pamphlet is torn out of the copy in the Brit. Mus., it is given in
-full. From pp. 3-21 the tract is identical with “The Genuine Lives,”
-also published by M. Cooper.)
-
-22. _Parricides!_ The trial of Philip Stansfield, Gt, for the murder of
-his father in Scotland, 1688. Also the trial of Miss Mary Blandy, for
-the murder of her Father, at Oxford 1752. London (1810). Printed by J.
-Dean, 57 Wardour St, Soho for T. Brown, 154 Drury Lane and W. Evans, 14
-Market St, St James’s. Brit. Mus.
-
-23. _The Female Parricide_, or the History of Mary-Margaret d’Aubray,
-Marchioness of Brinvillier.... In which a parallel is drawn between
-the Marchioness and Miss Blandy. C. Micklewright, Reading. Sold by J.
-Newbery. Price 1/. (March 5, 1752.)
-
-Lowndes mentions also:--
-
-24. _An Impartial Inquiry into the Case of Miss Blandy._ With
-reflections on her Trial, Defence, Repentance, Denial, Death. 1753. 8vo.
-
-25. _The Female Parricide._ A Tragedy, by Edward Crane, of Manchester.
-1761. 8vo.
-
-26. _A Letter from a Gentleman to Miss Blandy_ with her answer thereto.
-1752. 8vo. (Possibly the same as “A Letter from a Clergyman.”)
-
-The two following are advertised in the newspapers of the day:--
-
-27. _Case of Miss Blandy and Miss Jeffreys_ fairly stated, and
-compared.... R. Robinson, Golden Lion, Ludgate Street. (March 26, 1752.)
-
-28. _Genuine Letters between Miss Blandy and Miss Jeffries_ before and
-after their Conviction. J. Scott Exchange Alley; W. Owen, Temple Bar;
-G. Woodfall, Charing Cross. (April 21, 1752.)
-
-29. Broadside. _Execution of Miss Blandy._ Pitts, Printer, Toy and
-Marble Warehouse, 6 Great St. Andrew’s St. Seven Dials. Brit. Mus.
-
-30. _The Addl. MSS._, 15930. Manuscript Department in the Brit. Mus.
-
-
-II. CONTEMPORARY NEWSPAPERS AND MAGAZINES
-
-1. _Read’s Weekly Journal_, March and April (1752), February 3 (1753).
-
-2. _The General Advertiser_, August-November (1751), March and April
-(1752).
-
-3. _The London Evening Post_, March and April (1752).
-
-4. _The Covent Garden Journal_ (Sir Alexander Drawcansir), February,
-March, and April (1752).
-
-5. _The London Morning Penny Post_, August and September (1751).
-
-6. _Gentleman’s Magazine_, pp. 376, 486-88 (1751), pp. 108-17, 152,
-188, 195 (1752), pp. 47, 151 (1753), p. 803, pt. II. (1783).
-
-7. _Universal Magazine_, pp. 114-124, 187, 281 (1752).
-
-8. _London Magazine_, pp. 379, 475, 512(1751), pp. 127, 180, 189(1752),
-p. 89 (1753).
-
-
-NOTES
-
-NOTE I.--In recent years the guilt of Cranstoun has been questioned.
-Yet a supposition that does not explain two damning circumstances must
-be baseless:
-
- (_a_) In the first place, one of his letters to Miss Blandy,
- dated July 18, 1751, was read by Bathurst in his opening
- speech. Although the reports of the trial do not tell us that
- the note was produced in court, or that the handwriting was
- verified, it cannot be presumed that the Crown lawyers were
- guilty of wilful fabrication. However strange it may appear
- that this letter alone escaped destruction, it is improbable
- that Miss Blandy invented it. Had she done so its contents
- would have been more consistent with her defence. As it stands
- it is most unfavourable to her. Therefore, in the absence of
- further evidence, we must conclude that the letter is genuine,
- and if genuine Cranstoun was an accomplice.
-
- (_b_) In the second place, the paper containing the poison
- which was rescued from the fire, is said by the prosecution to
- have borne the inscription in Cranstoun’s handwriting, ‘Powder
- to clean the pebbles’ If this had been counterfeit, Miss Blandy
- would have had no object in destroying it, but would have kept
- it for her purpose.
-
-At any cost Lord Cranstoun must have been anxious to remove the black
-stain from his scutcheon. That this was impossible the fact that it was
-not done seems to prove. Indeed, if Captain Cranstoun had been ignorant
-of the crime, he could have proved his innocence as soon as Miss Blandy
-was arrested by producing her letters, which, granting this hypothesis,
-would have contained no reference that would have incriminated him.
-That she had written a great deal to him was shown in evidence at the
-trial by the clerk Lyttleton.
-
-For these reasons it is impossible to accept the conclusion of the
-writer of Cranstoun’s life in the _Dic. Nat. Biog._ (who has adopted
-the assertion in Anderson’s _Scottish Nation_, vol. i. p. 698), that
-“apart from Miss Blandy’s statement there is nothing to convict him of
-the murder.”
-
-NOTE II.--Anderson’s statement that “there does not appear to be any
-grounds for supposing that Captain Cranstoun was in any way accessory
-to the murder,” shows that he had not a complete knowledge of the facts
-at his disposal, or that he did not weigh them with precision. Miss
-Blandy’s intercepted letter to her lover affords a strong presumption
-of his connivance, and her destruction of his correspondence suggests
-that it contained incriminating details. That these two actions were
-subtle devices to cast suspicion upon Cranstoun cannot be maintained
-with any show of plausibility, for in this case Miss Blandy, if
-dexterous enough to weave such a crafty plot, must have foreseen its
-exposure, and with such exposure her own inevitable ruin, when to
-prove that he was not an accomplice her lover had produced the letters
-she had written to him. Thus to support such an assumption it must be
-shown that Cranstoun had previously destroyed every particle of her
-handwriting, and that she was aware of the fact. Of such an improbable
-circumstance there is, of course, no evidence.
-
-NOTE III.--“Old Benchers of the Middle Temple,” _Essays of Elia_. The
-relative of Miss Blandy, with whom Mr Samuel Salt was dining when
-he made the unfortunate remark which Lamb repeats, may have been Mr
-Serjeant Henry Stephens of Doctors’ Commons, who was her maternal uncle.
-
-NOTE IV.--The date of Miss Blandy’s birth is not given in the _Dic.
-Nat. Biog._ From the register of Henley Parish Church it appears that
-she was baptized on July 15, 1720.
-
-[Illustration: _Mess. Robert and Daniel_
-
-PERREAU.
-
-_London. Publish’d Janʸ 22ᵈ 1776. According to Act of Parliament._]
-
-
-
-
-THE UNFORTUNATE BROTHERS
-
-THE CASE OF ROBERT AND DANIEL PERREAU AND MRS MARGARET CAROLINE RUDD,
-1775-6
-
- “What’s this dull town to me?
- Robin’s not near;
- He whom I wish to see,
- Wish for to hear.
- Where’s all the joy and mirth,
- Made life a heaven on earth?
- Oh! they’re all fled with thee,
- Robin Adair.”
-
-
-When tenor Braham sent his plaintive air ringing through the town,
-few were alive who could recall the two previous occasions on which
-also the name of Adair was upon every lip. One day in February 1758
-all London had been stirred by the elopement of Lady Caroline Keppel,
-daughter of second Earl Albemarle, with a rollicking Irish physician
-who may have been the Robert of the ballad; while during the summer of
-1775 the whole world was wondering whether a man or a most beautiful
-woman must go to Tyburn for using the signature of Mr William Adair,
-the rich army agent, cousin to Dr Robin of wedding and song. In the
-first romance the hero received the just title of ‘the fortunate
-Irishman’: in the latter the chief personages were ‘the unfortunate
-brothers’ Messrs Robert and Daniel Perreau. Their disaster happened
-thus:--
-
-On a Tuesday morning, the 7th of March 1775, a slender, middle-aged
-gentleman walked into the counting-house of Messrs Drummond, the great
-bankers of Charing Cross. Garbed in a trim snuff-coloured suit, and
-betraying none of the macaroni eccentricities with the exception of a
-gold-laced hat, his dress suited the rôle that he played in life--a
-sleek and prosperous apothecary. This Mr Robert Perreau of Golden
-Square was welcomed cordially by Henry Drummond, one of the partners
-in the firm, for an apothecary was almost as eminent as a doctor, and
-the men had met and known each other at such houses as my Lord Egmont’s
-or that of my Lady Lyttelton. Producing as security a bond for £7500,
-bearing a signature that should have been honoured by any house in
-London, the visitor requested a loan of £5000. However, strange to
-say, banker Henry, who had been joined by his brother Robert, seemed
-dissatisfied.
-
-“This bond is made payable to you,” he remarked. “Was you present when
-it was executed?”
-
-“No, I was not present,” was Mr Perreau’s reply.
-
-“It is not the signature of William Adair, the late army agent of Pall
-Mall,” was the startling comment of Robert Drummond. “I have seen his
-drafts many a time!”
-
-The prim countenance of the apothecary remained unperturbed.
-
-“There is no doubt but it is his hand,” he answered, with perfect
-composure, “for it is witnessed by Mr Arthur Jones, his solicitor, and
-by Thomas Stark, his servant.”
-
-“It is very odd,” replied the incredulous Robert Drummond. “I have seen
-his hand formerly, and this does not appear to be the least like it.”
-
-Brother Henry Drummond echoed the same sentiment, whereupon Mr Robert
-Perreau waxed mysterious and emphatic.
-
-“Mr Adair is my particular friend,” he declared. “There are family
-connections between us.... Mr Adair has money of mine in his hands, and
-allows me interest.”
-
-“Come to-morrow, Mr Perreau,” said Henry Drummond, “and we will give
-you an answer.”
-
-Having received this promise the apothecary departed, but after the
-lapse of two hours he returned, and was seen by banker Henry once more.
-Without the least reserve he confessed that he had been much concerned
-by what the Messrs Drummond had told him.
-
-“I could not be easy in my mind till I had called on Mr Adair,” he
-explained. “Luckily I catched him in his boots before he went to take
-his ride.”
-
-Naturally, the good banker listened with interest, noting the words,
-for it seemed odd that Mr William Adair, the rich squire of Flixton
-Hall in Suffolk, whose son was carrying on the army agency, should
-raise money in such a style.
-
-“I produced the bond to Mr Adair,” Robert Perreau continued. “It was
-his signature, he said, but he might possibly have altered his hand
-from the time you had seen him write.... You might let me have the
-£5000, Mr Adair said, and he would pay the bond in May, though it is
-not payable till June.”
-
-The astute banker, who had talked the matter over with his brother in
-the interim, did not express his doubts so strongly.
-
-“Leave the bond with me,” he suggested to his visitor, “in order that
-we may get an assignment of it.”
-
-Which proposal Mr Robert Perreau assented to readily, believing, no
-doubt, that it was a preface to the payment of his money. In the
-course of the day the document was shown to a friend of Mr Adair,
-and finally exhibited to the agent himself. Attentive to the hour
-of his appointment, Mr Perreau left his gallipots in Golden Square,
-and reached the Charing Cross bank at eleven o’clock on the following
-morning. Both partners were ready for him, and suggested that to clear
-up all doubts it would be wise to call upon Mr William Adair without
-delay. To this the apothecary assented very readily--indeed, in any
-case a refusal would have aroused the worst suspicions. As it was a
-wet morning, he had come in his elegant town coach, and he drove off
-immediately with one of the bankers to the house of the late agent in
-Pall Mall. Upon their entrance the squire of Flixton took Mr Henry
-Drummond by the hand, but, to the surprise of the worthy 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 the
-signature. For the first time Robert Perreau betrayed astonishment.
-
-“Surely, sir,” cried he, “you are jocular!”
-
-A haughty glance was the sole response of the wealthy agent.
-
-“It is no time to be jocular when a man’s life is at stake,” retorted
-the indignant Henry Drummond. “What can all this mean? The person you
-pretend to be intimate with does not know you.”
-
-“Why, ’tis evident this is not Mr Adair’s hand,” added his brother, who
-had just arrived, with similar warmth, pointing to the forged name.
-
-“I know nothing at all of it,” protested the confused apothecary.
-
-“You are either the greatest fool or the greatest knave I ever saw,”
-the angry banker continued. “I do not know what to make of you.... You
-must account for this.... How came you by the bond?”
-
-Then there was a hint that a constable had been summoned, and it would
-be best to name his accomplices.
-
-“How came you by the bond?” repeated Mr Drummond.
-
-At last the bewildered Mr Perreau seemed to realise the gravity of his
-position.
-
-“That will appear,” he replied, in answer to the last remark, “if you
-will send for my sister.”
-
-“Who may she be?”
-
-“Why, my brother Mr Daniel Perreau’s wife.”
-
-Calling his servant, the apothecary bade him take the coach for his
-sister-in-law, who, he said, might be at her home in Harley Street, but
-most likely with his wife at his own house in Golden Square. It was
-evident that the carriage did not go farther than the latter direction,
-for in a short time it brought back the lady, who was ushered into the
-room. Then indeed the hearts of those three hard-pated men of finance
-must have been softened, for their eyes could have rested upon no more
-dazzling vision of feminine loveliness within the British Isles. Of
-medium height, her figure was shaped in the robust lines of graceful
-womanhood, but the face, which beamed with an expression of childish
-innocence, seemed the daintiest of miniatures, with tiny, shell-like
-features, and the clearest and fairest skin. In the fashion of the
-time her hair was combed upward, revealing a high forehead, and the
-ample curls which fell on either side towards her neck nestled beneath
-the smallest of ears. Without a tinge of colour, her complexion was
-relieved only by her red lips, but the healthy pallor served to
-heighten her radiant beauty. A thin tight ribbon encircled her slender
-neck. Below the elbow the close sleeves of her polonese terminated in
-little tufts of lace, while long gloves concealed her round, plump
-arms. Dress, under the influence of art, was beginning to cast off its
-squalor.
-
-Grasping the situation in a moment, this lovely Mrs Daniel Perreau
-asked if she might speak with her brother-in-law alone, but the
-request was refused. Then the beauty, making full use of her shining
-blue eyes, besought Mr Adair to grant her a private interview. But the
-old man--not such a gay dog as kinsman Robin--was proof against these
-blandishments.
-
-“You are quite a stranger to me,” he answered, “and you can have no
-conversation that does not pass before these gentlemen.”
-
-For a short time the beautiful woman appeared incapable of reason. At
-last she seemed to make a sudden decision.
-
-“My brother Mr Perreau is innocent,” she cried, in an agony of
-distress. “I gave him the bond.... I forged it!... For God’s sake, have
-mercy on an innocent man. Consider his wife and children.... Nobody was
-meant to be injured. All will be repaid.”
-
-“It is a man’s signature,” objected one of the bankers. “How could you
-forge it?”
-
-Seizing a pen and sheet of paper, she imitated the name on the bond
-with such amazing fidelity that all were convinced. Then, according to
-promise, Robert Drummond destroyed the writing, for he, at least, was
-determined that no advantage should be taken of her confidence.
-
-Little information was gained from Daniel Perreau--twin brother of the
-apothecary--who had been summoned from his spacious home in Harley
-Street, save shrugs of shoulders and words of surprise. Between him
-and Robert there was a striking likeness. Both were handsome and
-well-proportioned men, but a full flavour of macaroni distinguished the
-newcomer--a ‘fine puss gentleman’ of the adventurous type. To him dress
-was as sacred as to his great predecessor, Mr John Rann of the Sixteen
-Strings, who only a few months previously had met with a fatal accident
-near the Tyburn turnpike. Indeed, the macaroni was as great an autocrat
-as the dandy of later days, and princes, parsons, and highwaymen
-alike became members of his cult. So the gentleman from Harley Street,
-flourishing his big stick, and shaking the curled chignon at the back
-of his neck, tried with success to look a great fool.
-
-Quite appropriately, it was the woman who determined the result. Less
-dour than the squire of Flixton, the two bankers had no objection to
-accompany her into an adjacent room, where they listened with sympathy
-to her prayers. Being younger men than Mr Adair, they were full of
-respect for her brave deed of self-accusation, moved by the piteous
-spectacle of beauty in tears. In the end, confident that she spoke the
-truth, they began to regard Robert Perreau as her innocent dupe. So the
-constable was sent away, for macaroni Daniel seemed too great an idiot
-to arrest, and it was preposterous to dream of locking up his lovely
-wife. Thus the three grave financiers promised that the adventure
-should be forgotten, and the Messrs Perreau drove away from the house
-in Pall Mall in Robert’s coach, assured that they had escaped from a
-position which might have cost them their lives. Almost as clever as
-she was beautiful was this charming Mrs Daniel Perreau.
-
-Surely, all but a fool would have tried to blot the incident from his
-mind, content that the gentlemen concerned believed his honour to be
-unsullied, too humane to betray a pretty sister into the bloody hands
-of justice--all but a fool, or a _criminal_ seeking to escape by
-sacrificing an accomplice! Yet Mr Robert Perreau, although anything but
-a fool, would not rest. Without delay he sought advice from a barrister
-friend, one Henry Dagge, with the amazing result that on the following
-Saturday forenoon, the 11th of March, he appeared before Messrs Wright
-and Addington at the office in Bow Street to lay information against
-‘the female forger’ Luckily, the magistrates took the measure of
-the treacherous apothecary, and committed him as well as the lady to
-the Bridewell at Tothill Fields. On the next day, fop Daniel--a base
-fellow, who had acted as decoy while his brother was effecting the
-betrayal--was sent to keep them company. It was a rueful hour for the
-two Perreaus when they tried to pit their wits against a woman.
-
-On Wednesday morning, the 15th of March, in expectation that the three
-distinguished prisoners would appear before Sir John Fielding, the
-Bow Street court was besieged by so large a crowd that it was deemed
-prudent to adjourn to more commodious quarters in the Guildhall,
-Westminster. Surprising revelations were forthcoming. It was found that
-the forgery discovered seven days ago was only one of many. Two other
-persons--Dr Brooke and Admiral Sir Thomas Frankland--less cautious than
-the Drummonds, came forward to declare that they had obliged their
-friend Mr Perreau by discounting similar bonds, all of which bore the
-signature of William Adair! Plain indeed was the motive of Robert’s
-betrayal. It was not enough that the bankers should forgive him--it was
-needful that the woman must answer as scapegoat for much more.
-
-Never had a fairer prisoner stood before the blind magistrate than
-the intended victim. Above a striped silk gown she wore a pink cloak
-trimmed with ermine, and a small black bonnet--as usual, daintiest of
-the dainty, in spite of her tears and shame. Hitherto, she had given
-splendid proofs of courage and loyalty, but treachery had changed her
-heart to stone, and she lent herself to a cunning revenge. A youthful
-barrister named Bailey, who was hovering around Bow Street soon after
-her arrest, had been lucky enough to be accepted as her counsel.
-Clever almost as his client--in spite of contemporary libels from Grub
-Street, that repute him more intimate with Ovid’s _Art of Love_
-than Glanvill or Bracton--he came forward with the naïve suggestion
-that she should be admitted as evidence for the Crown! And a witness
-she was made there and then, two days later being let loose on bail,
-which created a very pretty legal causerie in a little while. On the
-other hand, the unhappy brothers were committed to the New Prison,
-Clerkenwell, on the capital charge of forgery. All this was very
-welcome entertainment for the fashionable mob that crushed into the
-Westminster Guildhall.
-
-[Illustration: MARGARET CAROLINE RUDD]
-
-The repartee of one of Sir John’s myrmidons, often quoted by wags of
-the time as an excellent joke, is not without its moral. One of the
-doorkeepers refused entrance to a certain person on the ground that he
-had been told to admit only gentlemen.
-
-“That is Mr ----, the great apothecary,” quoth a bystander.
-
-“Oh!” returns the doorkeeper, “if that’s the case, he must on no
-account go in, for my orders extend only to gentlemen, and the whole
-room is filled with apothecaries already.”
-
-It would have been well for Robert Perreau had he held no more exalted
-opinion of his station in life than the Bow Street officer.
-
-To the delight of all the _bon ton_, the scent of scandal rose hot
-into the air. The charming lady who had passed as the wife of Daniel
-Perreau proved to be his mistress. Although she had lived with him for
-five years, bearing him no less than three children, her real name was
-Margaret Caroline Rudd, whose lawful husband was still alive. Being the
-daughter of an apothecary in the North of Ireland, by his marriage with
-the love-child of a major of dragoons, who was a member of the Scottish
-house of Galloway, her boast that the blood of Bruce ran in her veins
-was strictly true, in spite of the scoffs and jeers with which it was
-hailed by her enemies. Early in the year 1762, when only seventeen, she
-had married a dissolute lieutenant of foot, named Valentine Rudd, the
-son of a grocer at St Albans. Soon his society proved distasteful, and
-the fair Margaret Caroline eloped with a more congenial partner. During
-the next few years she lived the life of a Kitty Fisher or a Fanny
-Murray--a gilt-edged Cyprian--selling her favours, like Danae, for
-no less than a shower of gold. Of all her patrons, the most faithful
-and generous by far was a rich Jew moneylender named Salvadore, whose
-name remains still as a landmark in the purlieus of the metropolis.
-Good Lord Granby is said to have visited her out of mere affection.
-Among others, it was whispered that Henry Frederick, a gentleman of
-easy virtue, like all Dukes of Cumberland, became one of her intimate
-friends. Possibly she may have listened to couplets from the _Essay on
-Women_, for patriot Wilkes, the member of Parliament for the county of
-Middlesex, is believed to have cultivated her society, going to the
-extent of finding her a home at Lambeth. Peers flocked to Hollen Street
-or Meard’s Court to pay her homage. A favourite device of hers was to
-impersonate a boarding-school miss or a lady of quality. Few women
-of pleasure have possessed the fertile imagination of Mrs Margaret
-Caroline Rudd.
-
-In May 1770 she met the foolish Daniel Perreau--not stupid from the
-woman’s point of view, since he was a dashing dog with a taste for all
-the pleasant things in life--and in an unlucky moment she accepted
-him as her protector. However, in other respects, although he had
-travelled far over the world, his intellect was no mate for hers. In
-business he had been a failure both at home and abroad. Three times, it
-is recorded, he was obliged to make composition with his creditors.
-Only a fortnight before his alliance with the bewitching Irishwoman
-his certificate of bankruptcy had been signed. Still, he was a man
-suited to the fair Margaret’s taste, handsome, gay, and genteel, with
-a complacency that paid no regard to her methods of raising money--a
-partner, in short, who gave her back the status in society that she had
-forfeited.
-
-Naturally, Daniel was more than satisfied with his beautiful companion,
-allowing her to pass as his lawful wife, forming an establishment
-for her in Pall Mall Court--the cost of which, since Salvadore and
-others were as lavish as ever, she appears to have provided. Golden
-dreams had captured his silly brain, and he believed that Exchange
-Alley would bring a more propitious fortune than vulgar trade. Funds
-could be obtained from his dear Mrs Rudd. Secret news from the French
-Embassy was furnished by his confederate, one Colonel Kinder--an Irish
-soldier. It would be easy to cut a brilliant figure at Jonathan’s, and
-restore his shattered credit. Thus, relying upon certain information,
-he insured the chances of war with Spain; but the Falkland Island
-convention happened to bring peace, and Daniel Perreau suffered his
-first big loss in the Alley.
-
-Still, this did not deter him, for the finances of Mrs Rudd seemed
-inexhaustible, and sometimes he made a lucky stroke himself. In
-addition to her pretended fortune, which Daniel knew was not bequeathed
-by any relative, she declared to her friends that a windfall had come
-to her in the shape of an annuity of £800 a year from Mr James Adair,
-the wealthy linen-factor of Soho Square. This kinsman of the Pall Mall
-agent chanced to be acquainted with the maternal uncle of Margaret
-Caroline Youngson--a tenant farmer of Balimoran, County Down, John
-Stewart by name, another unlawful offspring, possibly, of the amorous
-major of the house of Galloway--and, after the custom of a man of the
-world, as he is described, he became even more interested than the
-royal duke in the fortunes of the pretty niece. It is doubtful whether
-his generosity reached the sum named, but with so many sources of
-income strict accuracy in detail may have been difficult to Mrs Rudd.
-Indeed, the despicable Daniel Perreau did not require them. It was a
-great thing to boast at Jonathan’s that his wife was a connection of
-one of the great Adairs. With such a surety funds might be borrowed
-easily.
-
-Apparently, being much attached to her protector, Margaret Rudd was
-quite content to live with him in their humble quarters in Pall Mall
-Court, and to present him at appropriate intervals with pledges of
-their mutual ardour. Probably she shared his golden visions, hoping for
-future affluence. At all events, she gained no monetary advantage from
-the connection. Moreover, it was not until the beginning of the fatal
-year that she was mistress even of a house of her own, for the elegant
-residence on the west side of Harley Street was purchased on the 31st
-of December 1774.
-
-Brother Robert watched with amazement the progress of the fortunes of
-his twin, for it was wonderful that bankrupt Daniel should be able to
-live in decent lodgings with a stylish lady, to pursue fashion in all
-its vagaries, and to throw about money in the Alley. A different man
-this Robert--solemn, laborious, and intelligent, making a hard-earned
-income of a thousand pounds a year. Nevertheless, his soul soared above
-his gallipots. It was his ambition to make a figure in the world, so
-that his wife could woo society with drums, routs, hurricanes. When he
-looked around he saw that fortunes were being won on every side. A wave
-of prosperity was bearing the empire on its crest. The Great Commoner
-had wrenched America and India from the hereditary enemy. To these vast
-markets British seamen were carrying the exports of their country. At
-home, the clever inventors of the North, Watt and Arkwright, Hargreaves
-and Brindley, had increased the powers of production a thousandfold.
-England was setting up shop on a scale undreamt of hitherto in the
-world’s philosophy. Why spend one’s life in dispensing pukes and
-boluses, thought apothecary Robert, when the Alley is open to all who
-dare take advantage of this golden age?
-
-Since this was his character, brother Daniel and his pretty _chère
-amie_ soon tempted the misguided man to share their fortunes, glad to
-seek the cover of his reputable name to fashion new and more desperate
-schemes. For earls and bishops were clients of the apothecary, and
-‘honest Perreau’ was one of his appellations. Yet to preserve the
-co-operation of such respectability a pleasant little piece of fiction
-had to be maintained. Brother Robert, not a fool by any means, was
-willing to assist their plans, but only in the character of an
-ingenuous agent; a method--as, no doubt, he pointed out--that must
-disarm all suspicion. Thus, when he canvassed his friends to advance
-money on bonds in pursuance of the new policy, he would be able to pose
-as the emissary of his sister-in-law Mrs Daniel Perreau and her doting
-relatives Messrs James and William Adair. Indeed, there was a letter
-in his pocket, authorising some such scheme, which, not being penned
-by the Pall Mall agent, probably was the work of the clever woman who
-could give imitations of other people’s handwriting. Such a letter
-would be useful in case his possession of an Adair bond was questioned,
-but most useful of all--and this most certainly Mr Robert Perreau would
-not point out to his confederates--in making him appear a guileless
-dupe in the hands of an artful woman. Very cleverly had he arranged
-the saving of his own skin, this sly, precise apothecary.
-
-For no game could be more hazardous than the one which the guilty trio
-continued to pursue. Forgery was needful to cover forgery. As one bond
-became payable another had to be discounted to provide the money. A
-couple of bonds to the value of nearly £8000 were cashed by banker
-Mills in the City. On two others the large sums of £4000 and £5000 had
-been advanced by Sir Thomas Frankland. In this way more than a dozen
-were negotiated during the twelve months that preceded the discovery.
-All were signed with the name of the army agent--the pretended
-benefactor of Daniel’s wife--and their total value reached the huge
-sum of £70,000. Thus the Perreaus had been able to continue their
-speculations in Exchange Alley. Their sole chance of coming out of the
-mischief scot free was a lucky stroke at Jonathan’s, or the death of
-one of their victims.
-
-Public interest in the case was aroused no less by the personality of
-the prisoners than by the mystery surrounding the actual criminal.
-For the brothers on one side, and Mrs Rudd on the other, told two
-wonderful and contradictory stories. This most artful of women, whined
-the Messrs Perreau, using consummate guile, had revealed to them
-gradually a dazzling and enticing prospect. First Mr James and then
-Mr William Adair was represented as the lavish benefactor of their
-beautiful relative. Yet such was the modesty of these capitalists,
-that although they declared their intention of procuring a baronetcy
-for Daniel, and an estate in the country for Robert, besides setting
-up the twins as West-End bankers, they would communicate with Mrs
-Rudd alone! Moreover, such was the impecuniosity of these wealthy men
-that they were able to carry out their benevolent intentions only by
-the aid of notes of hand! However, the brothers protested that these
-assurances had been given to them by the lady, and that all the forged
-bonds had been received from the fair Margaret Caroline by innocent
-Daniel or ingenuous Robert, in the belief that the Messrs Adair, who
-had signed them, intended a gratuitous present. A most happy stroke of
-luck, coinciding fortunately with the period of their bold speculations
-at Jonathan’s! Yet what was Mrs Rudd’s motive in running these risks
-to provide funds from which she received little benefit, was not made
-clear.
-
-Even more wondrous was the other story. Although her conduct at the
-house in Pall Mall--whether we deem her guilty or innocent--showed
-something of nobility, she had no mercy for her confederates after they
-had played her false. While confessing once more that she had forged
-the bond which the Drummonds had rejected, she declared that her keeper
-Daniel had forced her to do so by standing over her with an open knife,
-threatening to cut her throat unless she obeyed. An incredible story,
-but no more improbable than the other! With the exception of this
-compulsory forgery, Mrs Rudd avowed that she was innocent. Amidst all
-this publicity it is likely that poor Mr James Adair, who had been very
-much the lady’s friend in former days, would have an unpleasant time
-with Mrs James Adair, and with his son, young Mr Serjeant James, M.P.,
-the rising barrister!
-
-Such an entertainment was a novel and delightful experience for the
-British public. Since the wonderful time (fourteen summers ago) when
-mad Earl Ferrers had made his exit at Tyburn in a gorgeous wedding
-dress, and amidst funereal pomp, the triple tree seldom had been graced
-by the appearance of gentlefolk. Broker Rice, whose shady tricks at
-the Alley made him the victim of Jack Ketch three years after his
-lordship, was almost the only respectable criminal who had been hanged
-for more than a decade. Indeed, except Mother Brownrigg and Jack of the
-Sixteen Strings, no criminal of note had dangled from a London scaffold
-since the days of Theodore Gardelle. Yet a glorious era was dawning
-for the metropolitan mob, when, in quick succession, Dodd, Hackman,
-and Ryland were to journey down the Oxford Road--the golden age of the
-gallows, when George III. was king!
-
-On Friday, the Ist of June, Robert Perreau was put to the bar at the
-Old Bailey. Owing to ill-health he had been allowed to remain in the
-Clerkenwell prison, and was not taken to Newgate until the morning of
-his trial--a privilege shared also by his brother. The President of the
-Court was Sir Richard Aston, who, as a junior of the Oxford circuit,
-had helped to defend the unfortunate Miss Blandy. By his side sat the
-Right Honourable John Wilkes, Lord Mayor of London, a quite tame City
-patriot now almost ready for the royal embraces, very different from
-the Wilkes winged by pistol-practising Martin, M.P., and hounded by
-renegade Jemmy Twitcher. This same City patriot--if we may credit one
-of Dame Rumour’s quite credible stories--whispered into the ear of the
-judge the most important words spoken during the trial:--“My lord, you
-can convict these men without the woman’s evidence.... It is a shocking
-thing that she should escape unpunished, as she must if you call her as
-a witness!” Which advice--if the lady had been as kind to ‘squinting
-Jacky’ as the world believed--shows that he was rising on stepping
-stones of Medmenham Abbey to higher things. At all events, instead
-of summoning Mrs Rudd into the box, the judge startled the world by
-ordering her to be detained in Newgate.
-
-In spite of the efforts of his counsel and his friends, the Court
-did not put the least faith in the wily apothecary, refusing to
-believe that he had been ignorant of his brother’s relationship to his
-mistress, or, if this were true, that an innocent man would obtain
-cash for a succession of huge bonds, drawn on the well-known house
-of Adair, at the bidding of a woman without making inquiries. Even
-granting that he was so credulous as to remain silent when he saw that
-suspicion was aroused, it was clear that no man of honour would strive
-to stifle mistrust by telling lies. Then there were other compromising
-circumstances. It was apparent that the Perreaus needed money to repay
-certain bonds that were falling due. Robert had antedated the latest
-forgery to make it agree with one of his falsehoods to the Messrs
-Drummond, for in the previous January he had endeavoured to obtain
-money from them by a fictitious story. Not only did the employment of a
-scrivener have no weight in his favour, but pointed to premeditation.
-In the face of these facts his guilt seemed clear. Notwithstanding an
-eloquent defence written for him by Hugh M’Auley Boyd, in which he
-protested that he had received the bonds from Mrs Rudd in good faith,
-the jury required no more than five minutes to return a hostile verdict.
-
-At nine o’clock on the following morning there were similar dealings
-with brother Daniel. Seeing that his case was hopeless, he did not
-deliver the elaborate address that had been prepared, choosing to print
-it, like Pope’s playwright. Naturally, his expectations were fulfilled,
-and he was found guilty of forging one of the bonds in the name of
-William Adair, on which his friend Dr Brooke had lent him £1500. On the
-6th of June, at the close of the Old Bailey sessions, he was sentenced
-to death along with Robert by Recorder Glynn, while on the same day Mrs
-Rudd was told that as bail could not be granted, she must remain in
-prison. In spite of their dishonesty, and still baser treachery, it is
-impossible to think of the cruel sentence of the unfortunate Perreaus
-without a thrill of horror. Yet no qualms disturbed the tranquil
-conscience of King George, who believed he was doing the Lord’s work in
-hanging men and women for a paltry theft.
-
-The charming Mrs Rudd was not disposed of so easily as her unlucky
-confederates. From April onwards she had attracted more attention
-than the skirmishes with our rebellious colonists at Bunker’s Hill
-and Lexington. While she was at large and the brothers were under
-lock and key, public sympathy had remained on their side. Moreover,
-her tactics were not too reputable, and until it was evident that she
-was struggling in her prison with the valour of desperation against
-overwhelming odds, popular compassion did not condone her shifty
-methods. Still, whatever her guilt, she waged her long battle with
-surpassing dexterity.
-
-One of the foremost of her foes, and not the least dangerous, was
-George Kinder, the Irish colonel--Daniel’s emissary in the unlucky
-touting at the back stairs of the French Embassy--a gentleman who had
-sought vainly to win the good graces of Miss Polly Wilkes. There was no
-false delicacy about this warrior, as the letters in the _Morning Post_
-under pseudonyms ‘Jack Spry’ and ‘No Puffer’ bear ample testimony, and
-soon he had made the whole world familiar with the amatory history of
-Margaret Youngson. Yet Colonel Kinder was too reckless in the delivery
-of his attacks, and, like many another dashing soldier, he found
-himself often outflanked. For Mrs Rudd wielded her pen brilliantly, and
-her replies to critics of the press were not unworthy--both in style
-and context--of a novelist of later days. At all events, the vulgar
-diatribes of Colonel Kinder helped to bring popular sympathy to the
-side of his fair antagonist, and this is precisely what the clever lady
-must have foreseen.
-
-Another enemy, as inveterate as the Irishman himself, appeared in
-the person of a rough-and-ready sea-dog, ex-Admiral Sir Thomas
-Frankland--whom the Perreaus had swindled out of thousands of pounds--a
-lineal descendant of Protector Cromwell. More truculent even than his
-great ancestor--for surely Oliver never confiscated ruff or farthingale
-belonging to Henrietta Maria--he pounced upon Mrs Rudd’s clothes, and
-indeed upon all property that might help to repay his loans. Remaining
-loyal to his old friend the Golden Square apothecary--for the choleric
-gentleman was convinced that he was an innocent instrument in the
-hands of the woman--he seized anything that Daniel and his mistress
-happened to possess. In consequence of this brigandage there was a
-pitched battle between the employees of the admiral and the sheriff’s
-officers for the possession of the house in Harley Street, in which
-the former got the worst of the tussle. Running amuck at all who
-took the other side--Barrister Bailey, Uncle Stewart, the Keeper of
-the Lyon Records--each in turn received a broadside from the fiery
-old salt. Shiver-me-timbers Frankland--this Paul Pry of a lady’s
-wardrobe--wrought more good out of evil to the cause of Margaret Rudd
-than any other man, and his fair enemy was nothing loth to let him run
-to the top of his bent.
-
-Nowhere was the diplomacy of Daniel Perreau’s mistress more remarkable
-than in the negotiations with her old servant, Mrs Christian Hart.
-Early in July there was an interview between the pair in Newgate:
-the handmaid compassionate and pliable; the prisoner full of subtle
-schemes against her enemies. Barrister Bailey was present, and a
-lengthy document was drawn up--a paper of instructions in the form of a
-narrative for the guidance of the faithful ‘Christy’--wherein was set
-forth the details of a wicked conspiracy, which the servant was to
-pretend that she had overheard, between old sea-dog Frankland and Mrs
-Robert Perreau to swear away Mrs Rudd’s life. Promising to learn her
-story and stick to the text, Mrs Hart went away with her manuscript;
-but, frightened by her husband or bribed by the admiral, in a little
-while she deserted to the other side. In no wise dismayed, Margaret
-Rudd retorted that ‘Christy’ had volunteered the story, and that the
-instructive document was a faithful copy of the woman’s narrative as
-dictated by herself, another copy of which she produced, attested by
-the faithful Bailey. Moreover, she alleged that the whole business
-was a thing devised by the Perreaus for the purpose of compromising
-their enemy, a most dexterous plot to make it appear that Mrs Rudd
-was endeavouring to create false evidence! Thus, even when the first
-scheme failed, she gained the effect desired by its very failure. Poor,
-persecuted woman, thought the big-hearted British public, and what a
-shocking old admiral!
-
-A little later, the fair captive in Newgate triumphed over another
-enemy, one Hannah Dalboux, a second domestic. This Hannah had been
-nurse to the youngest of Daniel Perreau’s children since the mother
-had been put in prison. One morning in August the newspapers announced
-that the woman had refused to surrender the child, and that the woman’s
-husband had tried to thrash the inevitable Mr Bailey when he paid a
-visit with his client’s request. “The baby shall be given up when I am
-paid for its board and lodging,” was the sum and substance of Hannah’s
-ultimatum. All the same the child had to be delivered to its rightful
-owner, and husband Dalboux was locked up for the assault. A great
-opportunity, indeed, which Mrs Rudd did not neglect. All the journals
-were full of hints concerning the horrid old admiral, who had employed
-people to steal the lady’s baby as well as her petticoats--about the
-last two things in the world a swell mobsman would choose, unless they
-were accompanied by the proprietress. Yet the salient fact, remembered
-by the British public in a little while, was that this inveterate
-sea-dog was the prosecutor at Mrs Rudd’s trial.
-
-The well-known anecdote told of her by Horace Walpole, must, if true,
-have reference to an incident that occurred during her imprisonment in
-Newgate.
-
-“Preparatory to her trial, she sent for some brocaded silks to a
-mercer. She pitched on a rich one, and ordered him to cut off the
-proper quantity, but the mercer, reflecting that if she was hanged, as
-was probable, he should never be paid, pretended he had no scissors.
-She saw his apprehensions, pulled out her pocket-book, and giving him a
-bank-note for £20, said, ‘There is a pair of scissors.’ Such quickness
-is worth a hundred screams. We have no Joans of Arc nor Catherines de
-Medici, but this age has heroines after its own fashion.”
-
-Whenever a Gordian knot presented itself the undaunted Mrs Rudd was
-always ready with a pair of scissors!
-
-Like all other popular entertainers, the fair Margaret Caroline had
-rivals in the public favour. On the nineteenth of August, “one of the
-prettiest young women in England,” Jane Butterfield by name, was tried
-for her life at Croydon on a charge of poisoning a foully-diseased
-old man for whom she kept house. Paramour also to this rotten William
-Scawen was Miss Jane, debauched by him when a child. Although the poor
-girl was acquitted amidst tears and huzzas, she lost the fortune that
-should have come to her, for her protector, who had listened to the
-accusations of his Dr Sanxy--the instigator of all the proceedings
-against the innocent Jane--lived long enough, unhappily, to cross her
-out of his will. For a while all England forgot Margaret Rudd in its
-generous sympathy for the beautiful heroine of Croydon. Soon also
-the ubiquitous Elizabeth Chudleigh monopolised public attention, to
-the exclusion of everyone else, under her new rôle as Her Grace of
-Kingston; while the sex of the mysterious Chevalier D’Eon continued to
-be the subject of many wagers.
-
-For six months Mrs Rudd remained a prisoner in Newgate--from the day of
-Robert Perreau’s condemnation on the 1st of June until the morning of
-her own trial on the 8th of December--using every endeavour so that she
-should not be brought to the judgment-seat. A few weeks after the close
-of the summer sessions--on the fourth day of July--she was summoned to
-Westminster Hall to listen to the ruling of Chief-Justice Mansfield,
-an unrivalled exponent of amazing decisions, with regard to her status
-as king’s evidence. Superfine, indeed, was the quality of Mansfield’s
-red tape:--“The woman did not confess that she was an accomplice,
-but an assistant by compulsion, therefore she may be presumed to be
-innocent, consequently there is no reason why she should not be tried!
-Only a _guilty_ person can be admitted as a witness for the Crown!”
-Yet the great Chief-Justice had a more cogent reason still--one that
-is irrefutable: “Since the lady did not disclose _all_ she knew, she
-has forfeited indulgence!” Quite proper, no doubt, in a legal sense,
-but foreign to the eternal ethics of British equity, that has permitted
-‘burker’ Hare to escape the halter, believing that it is monstrous to
-ask a jury to try a prisoner from whom a confession has been extorted
-under promise of pardon. There was no false delicacy about the learned
-Mansfield’s interpretation of the law.
-
-However, his lordship was the autocrat of all bigwigs, and none but the
-most stout-hearted ventured to challenge his decisions. When the case
-was argued by her counsel before three judges, sitting as a Court of
-Gaol Delivery in the middle of September, one Henry Gould, who feared a
-Chief-Justice as little as a Gordon riot, appears to have realised
-that the law must keep its faith. So he gave a flat contradiction to
-the ruling of the King’s Bench. “How can we know that the woman was
-cognisant of any other forgery than the one to which she has confessed
-unless we bring her to trial?” demanded this judge Gould. “And if we
-bring her to trial we break our word!” Nevertheless his two colleagues,
-remembering possibly the Mansfield temper and the Mansfield tongue,
-maintained the arguments of the Chief-Justice, and thus it was decreed
-that Mrs Rudd must go before a jury. Early in November twelve judges
-assented to this decision.
-
-[Illustration: _Mrs. Margaret Caroline Rudd at the Bar of the Old Bailey
-
-Published dec.ʳ 15.ᵗʰ 1775 according to Act of Parliament_]
-
-Confident that her long struggle had not been futile, since this breach
-of faith must shock the public mind, the beautiful prisoner prepared
-to face her terrible ordeal. In a letter from Strawberry Hill we catch
-a glimpse of her on the eve of her trial. “... She sent her lawyer a
-brief of which he could not make head nor tail. He went to her for one
-more clear. ‘And do you imagine’ said she, ‘that I will trust you or
-any attorney in England with the truth of my story? Take your brief:
-meet me in the Old Bailey, and I will ask you the necessary questions.’
-...” And when the time came she kept her promise to help him through.
-
-On Friday, the 8th of December, she was placed in the dock at the Old
-Bailey. During her long imprisonment the popular sympathy had come over
-to her side, and a friendly crowd filled the galleries before daybreak.
-With much tenderness Judge Aston explained to her the reason that she
-was put to the bar, his chief argument being the elusive one that she
-had not spoken the _whole_ truth before the magistrates. No woman could
-have been more dignified or composed. An air of melancholy rested on
-her beautiful face, which appeared more pale in contrast to her garb of
-mourning. A silk polonese cloak, lined with white persian, was thrown
-round her shoulders. Beneath, her gown was black satin, _appliquée_
-with wreaths of broad silken ribbons, her skirt draped upon the small
-hoop worn with an evening toilet. Above the tall head-dress demanded by
-fashion, a white gauze cap, dotted with small knots of black, rested
-lightly upon her powdered curls. It was almost the same costume that
-she had worn before the three judges.
-
-Only for a short time were the spectators in doubt as to the result of
-the trial. None of the evidence was convincing; each witness seemed
-more feeble than his predecessor. Serjeant Davy, rough and ready, tore
-their statements to tatters. To the jury Mrs Robert Perreau seemed
-eager to swear aught that might save the life of her unhappy husband.
-Admiral Frankland, in the face of his petticoat theft, appeared to have
-pressed the prosecution out of greed and for the sake of revenge. John
-Moody, a footman discharged by the prisoner, must have been regarded,
-very properly, as a barefaced liar. The famous Christian Hart, another
-old servant with a grudge, who was answered on all points by the
-evidence of the indefatigable Bailey, could prove nothing concerning
-the forgery cited in the indictment.
-
-All the while Mrs Rudd kept on passing notes to her counsel--more than
-fifty in number--suggesting questions to baffle the hostile witnesses.
-The trial lasted for nearly twelve hours. When the jury returned
-into court, after an absence of thirty minutes, Henry Angelo, the
-fencing-master, saw the gay auctioneer who was the foreman throw a
-meaning smile towards the beautiful prisoner. “Not guilty according to
-the evidence before us!” declared the jury, while the court thundered
-with applause. At last her bitter ordeal was over, and Margaret Rudd,
-smiling through her tears, stepped gaily into a coach that was waiting
-at the door of Old Bailey. Then she was driven, post haste, to her new
-home with the wicked Lord Lyttelton. Certainly this charming and clever
-woman was far from being too good to live.
-
-Naturally, the acquittal of Mrs Rudd determined the fate of the
-unfortunate twins, who had been kept alive all this time pending the
-result of her trial. Only in one way could Robert, deemed the less
-guilty, have been spared. Had Daniel confessed that he was the forger,
-exonerating his brother, probably a pardon would have been granted. Not
-being built, however, after the fashion of martyrs, he continued to
-make frantic protests of innocence, thereby sealing the doom of both.
-For arguments that were incredible merely in the case of the apothecary
-became preposterous when applied to Daniel. Yet the loyalty of Robert
-was admirable, as although he knew that his one hope was to be
-dissociated from his brother, he would not pretend that he had been his
-dupe. Desperate efforts were made to save the unhappy men. A petition,
-signed by more than seventy bankers and influential men of business,
-was presented to the King. Mrs Robert Perreau with her three children,
-all in deep mourning, flung herself at the feet of the Queen. But good
-King George III. was a stranger to mercy, and Justice Mansfield was not
-the sort of person to make the introduction.
-
-On Wednesday, the 17th of January 1776--a bitter morning, with keen
-frost in the air and deep snow on the ground--the two poor brothers
-were led out to die. When they were brought from the chapel into the
-day-room within the Press Yard, to await the coming of the hangmen,
-they found only a few faithful friends who wished to say farewell.
-For, to prevent an unseemly crowd, good Keeper Akerman stood himself
-at the gate of the fatal quadrangle, denying entrance even to his own
-acquaintances. Daniel Perreau, apparently unmoved, gave a bow to his
-friends, and then sought the warmth of the fire. Robert, less resolute
-than his brother, was unmanned for an instant by the sight of the cords
-and halters upon the table. In a few moments their steps were ringing
-across the flags of the courtyard, as with bound arms they followed the
-Sheriffs towards the gate. Those who gazed upon these poor victims of a
-merciless law testify that their tread was firm and their faces hopeful
-and serene. For, save in that first base betrayal of a woman, no one
-can accuse Daniel and Robert Perreau of cowardice. Five others bore
-them company to the grave.
-
-Shortly after nine o’clock the City Marshals, attended by the full
-panoply of sheriffdom, started the procession. Next came an open
-cart, covered with black baize, where sat three of the convicts, and
-then a hurdle, dragged by four horses, on which rested a pair of
-wretches condemned for coining. And last, there followed the sombre
-mourning-coach--a special privilege--with the unhappy brothers. All
-around lay a winding sheet of snow, crusted thick on the housetops,
-piled in deep billows against the walls. A piercing east wind shot down
-the Old Bailey, while the prison gleamed in the frosty mist like a
-monument of hard black ice.
-
-Beyond Newgate Street the bell in St Sepulchre’s high steeple rang
-fiercely over the frozen roofs, as though pealing forth a pæan of
-exultation upon the procession of death. Here there came a halt in
-the march, while from the steps of the church, in time-honoured
-fashion, the sexton delivered his solemn exhortation to the condemned
-prisoners:--
-
-“All good people, pray heartily unto God for these poor sinners, who
-are now going to their death, for whom this great bell doth toll....
-
- “Lord have mercy upon you,
- Christ have mercy upon you.”
-
-Backwards and forwards around the mourning-coach surged the mob,
-clamouring with ribald fury for a glimpse of the celebrated forgers.
-Robert Perreau, sitting with his back to the horses beside one of the
-sheriff’s officers, pulled down the glass meekly, and gazed out with
-calm, unruffled features. Then the long journey was resumed. Over the
-heavy road the wheels and hoofs slipped and crunched down the slopes
-of Snow Hill, and toiled up the steep ascent into Holbourn. Standing
-erect in the cart, George Lee, a handsome boy highwayman, gorgeous in a
-crimson coat and ruffled shirt, doffed his gold-laced hat with a parade
-of gallantry to a young woman in a hackney coach. Then, while a hundred
-eyes and a hundred loathsome jests were turned upon her, the poor girl
-burst into a flood of tears. In another moment her lover had passed
-away for ever. Huddled in the same tumbril with the swaggering youth, a
-couple of Jews, condemned for housebreaking, shook and chattered with
-dread, their yellow faces livid as death, a strange contrast to their
-florid, bombastic companion. Shivering with cold, the two tortured
-coiners were jolted over the snow, bound fast to their hurdle, their
-limbs turned to ice by the frost. Within the black coach, the brothers
-listened calmly and reverently to the prayers with which Ordinary
-Villette, who sat by the side of Daniel, supplicated the Almighty to
-pardon these victims unworthy of human mercy. And all the while, the
-mob--forty thousand strong--shrieked, danced and hurled snowballs,
-maddened like fierce animals by the scent of blood.
-
-It was only half-past ten o’clock when the cortege reached the triple
-tree. Two separate gallows had been prepared, for it was not meet that
-Hebrew and Christian should hang from the same branch. So the tumbril
-was drawn under the smaller crossbar, and, their halters being fixed,
-the two Jews were left to their rabbi; while highwayman Lee, and the
-coiners Baker and Ratcliffe, were placed in a second cart. Seated in
-their coach a little distance away, the two brothers watched these
-ghastly preparations with unruffled mien. When all was ready Sheriff
-Newnham gave them a signal, and they descended to the ground. A moment
-later they were standing beside their three wretched compatriots. Then
-the Rev. Villette came forward to play his usual part. Holding the same
-prayer-book, Daniel and Robert Perreau followed the services with pious
-attention, their reverence forming a marked contrast to the swagger
-of the boy highwayman. For some time they were allowed to converse
-with the Ordinary, and each gave him a paper containing a last solemn
-declaration of their innocence. It was noticed that Daniel raised his
-eyes to the sky, and boldly asserted that he was guiltless.
-
-At half-past eleven all was ready for the final scene. Ordinary
-Villette offered a last shake of the hand; Sheriffs Haley and Newnham
-bowed in solemn farewell. Having been fee’d by his distinguished
-clients, Jack Ketch gave a moment’s grace while the brothers embraced
-tenderly. Faithful unto death, the brave fellows exhibited more
-nobility in their last few hours than during the whole of their lives.
-As the cart drew away and their foothold slipped beneath them, their
-hands were still clasped together. For a full half minute their fingers
-remained linked as they dangled in the air, and then fell apart as they
-passed into oblivion beside their five dying companions. Four days
-later, on Sunday, the 21st of January, they were buried together in a
-vault within St Martin’s Church, Ludgate Hill.
-
-No mob could have behaved with more indecency than the howling,
-laughing throng that gazed upon this scene of death, increasing by
-their wanton rioting the agony of the poor sufferers a thousandfold.
-With great difficulty an army of constables--three hundred in
-number--kept a clear space around the scaffold. After the spectacle
-was over it was found that there had been numerous accidents. A woman
-was beaten down and pressed to death; a youth was killed by a fall
-from a coach. One of the stands near the gallows collapsed during the
-execution, and three or four persons lost their lives.
-
-In the history of crime the case of the unfortunate brothers forms an
-important landmark. Although many a forger had gone to the gallows
-before, they were the first ‘distinguished victims’ of the merciless
-code. Thus their fate served as a precedent. “If Dr Dodd is pardoned,
-then the Perreaus have been murdered!” quoth the crazy king, when he
-was asked to forgive ‘the macaroni parson’ Henceforth, it was as safe
-to blow out a man’s brains as to counterfeit his handwriting. At last,
-when the first humane monarch for more than a hundred years set his
-face against such butchery the lawgivers were unable to preserve the
-bloody statutes that had slaughtered thousands during the half century
-which separated the deaths of Robert Perreau and Henry Fauntleroy.
-By the side of Mackintosh, Romilly, and Ewart, the fourth George is
-entitled to an honourable place.
-
-Public opinion changed once more with wonted inconsistency after
-the acquittal of Mrs Rudd, and the apothecary in particular, as the
-bankers’ petition indicates, received the widest sympathy. Still, it
-seems strange that his guilt could have been doubted by reasonable
-persons. No other defence was open to him save the one he used, old as
-human sin--it was the woman!--and even this apology involved the most
-absurd pretences. Clearly, the fable had been prearranged between the
-conspirators. Treachery brought its own reward, and Robert Perreau,
-forgetting that there should be honour among thieves, was ruined
-because he did not trust his fair accomplice to the full extent. No
-doubt she would have soothed sea-dog Frankland just as she pacified
-the bankers Drummond.
-
-In all the sordid history the one bright spot is the loyalty of
-charming, wicked Mrs Rudd to her grimy confederates, for the scene in
-old William Adair’s parlour on that stormy March morning might well
-have cost her life. Had the bankers proved to be curmudgeons, the
-Perreaus would not have raised a hand to save her from the shambles.
-Since she must have known the men who were her associates, she must
-have realised also her own risk. Yet still she kept her faith, while
-perceiving that safety lay in betrayal. Truly a noble act of heroism,
-though based upon a mud-heap. Thus when we bear in mind how the two
-brothers repaid her trust, and reflect upon the breach of law-honour
-sanctioned by James Mansfield, there comes the obvious suspicion that,
-whatever her iniquity, the woman was more than repaid in her own coin.
-
-Little is remembered of her subsequent history. A few days after her
-trial it is recorded that she visited the play in Lord Lyttelton’s
-chariot. During the following spring she was honoured by the polite
-attentions of James Boswell. On the 15th of May of this year, great
-Johnson himself declared that he would have visited her at the same
-time as his _fidus Achates_ were it not that they had a trick of
-putting everything in the newspapers! Possibly other references
-occur in ‘Bon Ton Magazines’ or similar _chroniques scandaleuses_,
-now treasured in tree calf or crushed morocco, and vended at so many
-guineas per ounce. There is a hint somewhere that her charms had begun
-to wane, although she was only thirty at the time of her trial, for a
-life and experiences such as hers trace lines upon the face and dim
-the lustre of the eye. Still, whatever the cause, we may conjecture
-that her friendship with Lord Lyttelton did not last much longer than
-a couple of years, as, while he succumbed to the famous bad dreams
-on the 27th of November, she died before June 1779 in very distressed
-circumstances. Possibly she was supplanted by the famous Mrs Dawson.
-
-In the testimony of her contemporaries there is unanimity with regard
-to the beauty and wit of Margaret Rudd--the sole grudge, even of the
-women, being that she was clever enough to cheat the gallows. To
-pretend sympathy with those who were saddened because she received no
-punishment is superlative cant, for the penalty would have been out of
-all proportion to the offence. Thus the cheers that rang through the
-Old Bailey on that December evening long ago find an echo in our hearts
-to-day. Moreover, since it was needful to offer up a propitiatory
-sacrifice to Mammon, it was a shrewd common-sense that selected the
-brothers as the more deserving of the awful atonement.
-
-In the scarlet pages of the chronicles of crime there is not another
-dazzling figure such as the mistress of poor Daniel Perreau. Yet she
-walks across the dim stage in the guise of no tragedy queen as Miss
-Blandy. If at all, she compels our tears amidst our smiles, and such
-tears are the most gentle and spontaneous. Light, sparkling, joyous,
-she chases pleasure with reckless laughter, meeting the fate of all
-who pursue the glittering wisp, heedless of the deepening mire through
-which they tread. It is wrong to watch her dainty person with delight,
-but we cannot avert our eyes. Alas, _transit gloria mundi_! One of the
-most excellent of modern critics speaks truly of this immortal lady as
-a forgotten heroine of the _Newgate Calendar_, and she--the idol of
-princes and lord mayors--has not received a niche among the national
-biographies!
-
-
-
-
-BIBLIOGRAPHY OF THE PERREAU CASE
-
-
-I. CONTEMPORARY TRACTS
-
-1. _The Female Forgery_, Or Fatal Effects of Unlawful Love. J. Bew, No.
-28 Paternoster Row. Price 1/6. “With a beautiful whole-length portrait
-of Mrs Rudd resolving whether to sign the Bond or forfeit her life.
-From the capital drawing of an eminent master.” (Published April 22,
-1775.)
-
-2. _Forgery Unmasked_, or Genuine Memoirs of the Two Unfortunate
-Brothers, Rob. and Daniel Perreau, and Mrs Rudd. A. Grant, Bridges
-Street, Covent Garden. Price 1/. “Illustrated with a New and Beautiful
-Engraving of Mr Dan. Perreau in the act of threatening to Murder
-Mrs. Rudd, unless she would sign the Fatal Bond.” (April 25, 1775. A
-pro-Rudd Tract, containing the case of Mrs Rudd, as related by herself,
-which appeared originally as a series of letters in the _Morning Post_
-from March 27 to April 10.)
-
-3. _Genuine Memoirs of Messieurs Perreau_; (Now under Confinement.)
-With many Curious Anecdotes relative to Mrs Rudd; G. Allen, No. 59
-Paternoster Row. Price 1/6. Brit. Mus. (April 26, 1775.)
-
-4. _The Genuine Memoirs of the Messers Perreau._ G. Kearsley, 46 Fleet
-Street. Price 1/6. (Published May 11, 1775. Second edition June 8,
-1775.)
-
-5. _The Trials of Robert and Daniel Perreau._ T. Bell, at (No. 26) the
-Top of Bell-Yard, near Temple Bar. Taken down in shorthand by Joseph
-Gurney. (June 6, 1775.)
-
-6. _Mr. Daniel Perreau’s Narrative of His Unhappy Case._ T. Evans, No.
-50 in the Strand, near York Buildings. Price 2/. Brit. Mus. (June 9,
-1775.)
-
-7. _A Letter to the Right Hon. Earl of Suffolk...._ In which the
-Innocence of Robert Perreau is demonstrated. T. Hookham, at his
-Circulating Library, the Corner of Hanover Street, Hanover Square.
-Price 1/. Brit. Mus. (July 13, 1775.)
-
-8. _Facts_, or a Plain and Explicit Narrative of the Case of Mrs. Rudd.
-T. Bell, 26 Bell-Yard, Temple Bar. Price 2/. Brit. Mus. (July 1775.
-This tract contains the “Case of Mrs. Rudd as related by herself,”
-with the addition of her “Narrative,” which appeared originally in the
-_Morning Post_. July 1, 3, 4, 7, 10, and 14.)
-
-9. _Observations on the Trial of Mr. Robert Perreau._ With Mr.
-Perreau’s Defence, as spoken on His Trial. S. Bladon, No. 16
-Paternoster Row. Price 2/. Brit. Mus. (July 17, 1775.)
-
-10. _The True Genuine Lives and Trials, etc. of the Two Unfortunate
-Brothers._ Illustrated with Two New and Beautiful Engravings, 1st.
-Daniel Perreau threatening to Murder Mrs Rudd .... 2nd. The two
-Perreaus lamenting their unhappy fate. J. Miller, White Lion Street,
-Goodman’s Fields. Brit. Mus. (1775.)
-
-11. _An Account of the Arguments of Counsel...._ On Sat., Sept. 16.
-1775, whether Mrs. Rudd ought to be tried, etc. By Joseph Gurney. Sold
-by Martha Gurney, No. 34 Bell-Yard, Temple Bar. 1775. price 1/6. Brit.
-Mus.
-
-12. _The Case of Mrs. Margaret Caroline Rudd_, from her first
-Commitment to Newgate on Thursday, the 1st of June, last to her final
-acquittal at the Old Bailey, Friday, December 8, 1775. J. Bew, No. 28
-Paternoster Row. (December 15, 1775.)
-
-13. The Whole Proceedings on the King’s Commission of the Peace, Oyer
-and Terminer, and Gaol Delivery for the City of London; and also the
-Gaol Delivery for the County of Middlesex; Held at Justice Hall in the
-Old Bailey, on Wednesday, the 6th of December, 1775, and the following
-Days. Revised and published by John Glynn, Serjeant at Law and Recorder
-of London. No. 1. Part I. Printed by William Richardson for Edward and
-Charles Dilby, price 9d. (December 19, 1775.)
-
-14. _The Trial at Large of Mrs. Margaret Caroline Rudd._ Elucidated
-by such Matter as never before transpired. By Mr. Bailey,
-Barrister-at-Law. Sold at No. 26 Bell-Yard near Temple Bar. (1775.)
-_London Library._
-
-15. _A Solemn Declaration of Mr. Daniel Perreau...._ Written by himself
-and Delivered to a Friend in the Cells of Newgate on Sunday, January
-14. 1776. T. Evans, near York Buildings in the Strand, price 1/. Brit.
-Mus. (January 22, 1776.)
-
-16. _A Genuine Account of the Behaviour and Dying Words of Daniel and
-Robert Perreau._ By the Reverend John Villette, Ordinary of Newgate.
-Printed for the Author and sold at his house, No. 1 Newgate St. 1776.
-Brit. Mus. (1776.)
-
-17. _An Explicit Account of the Lives, Trials, Dying Words, and Burial
-of the Twin Brothers._ Brit. Mus. (1776. Without the publisher’s name.)
-
-18. _Mrs. Marg. Car. Rudd’s Case Considered, Respecting Robert
-Perreau._ In an Address to Henry Drummond Esquire, J. Wilkie, No. 71,
-In St Paul’s Churchyard. Price 1/. (January 26, 1776.)
-
-19. _Mrs. M. C. Rudd’s Genuine Letter to Lord Weymouth...._ Together
-with An Explanation of the Conduct of a certain Great City Patriot. G.
-Kearsly in Fleet St. Price 1/. Brit. Mus. (March 5, 1776. The original
-letter appeared in the _Morning Post_, January 16, 1776.)
-
-20. _A Letter from Mrs. Christian Hart to Mrs. Margaret Caroline Rudd._
-J. Williams. No. 46, opposite Fetter Lane, Fleet Street, price 1/.
-Brit. Mus. (Published March 23, 1776.)
-
-21. _She is, and She is Not_; A Fragment of the True History of
-Miss Caroline De Grosberg, alias Mrs. Potter, etc. J. Bew, No. 28
-Paternoster Row. Price 1/6 Brit. Mus. (Published April 24, 1776.)
-
-22. _Authentic Anecdotes of the Life and Transactions of Mrs. Margaret
-Rudd_ ... in a series of letters to ... Miss Mary Lovell. “In two
-neat pocket volumes, price 4/ sewed, or 5/ bound, embellished with a
-striking likeness taken from the life and engraved by G. Bartolozzi.”
-J. Bew, No. 28 Paternoster Row. Brit. Mus. (Published June 16, 1776.)
-
-23. _Prudence Triumphing over Vanity and Dissipation_; or the History
-of the Life, Character, and Conduct of Mr. Robert, and Mr. Daniel
-Perreau, and Mrs. Rudd. J. Maling, Bookseller, the corner of Fleet
-Market, Ludgate-hill; J. Bradshaw, No. 40, St John Street, Clerkenwell;
-and J. Naples, Greenwich. Brit. Mus.
-
-24. _A Particular Account of the Dreadful and Shocking Apparitions_ of
-the two unfortunate Perreaus. Brit. Mus. (Broadside. Published later
-than February 30, 1776.)
-
-Lowndes mentions also:--
-
-25. _An Authentic Account of the Particulars which appeared on the
-Trials of Robert and Daniel Perreau._ Nassau, pt. ii. 746.
-
-26. _The History of the Life, Character, and Conduct of Mr. Daniel and
-Robert Perreau and Mrs. Rudd._ London 8. vo.
-
-27. _Law Observations on the Case of Mrs. Rudd._ By a Gentleman of the
-Inner Temple. 8. vo. 1/6.
-
-
-II. CONTEMPORARY NEWSPAPERS AND MAGAZINES
-
- 1. _The Public Advertiser_, March 15-December 1775. January 1776.
- 2. _The Daily Advertiser_, do. 15 do. do.
- 3. _The Morning Chronicle_, do. 13 do. do.
- 4. _The London Chronicle_, do. 16 do. do.
- 5. _The Morning Post_, do. 16 do. do.
- 6. _The Gazetteer_, do. 15 do. do.
- 7. _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, do. 17 do. do.
- 8. _The Evening Post_, do. 17 do. do.
- 9. _The Craftsman_, June 1775.
-
- The _Morning Post_ of Thursday, January 18, 1776, contains a
- long account of the execution of the Perreaus. There are full
- descriptions in the other newspapers.
-
- 10. _Gentleman’s Magazine._
-
- 1775.
-
- “The Perreau Frauds,” pp. 148-150, 205.
- “Trials of the Perreaus,” pp. 278-284, 300.
- “The Case of Mrs. Rudd,” pp. 347, 349, 452, 603-5.
- “Poems on Mrs. Rudd,” pp. 443, 492.
-
- 1776.
-
- “Petitions on behalf of the Perreaus,” 22, 23, 44.
- “Execution of the Perreaus,” 44, 45, 46.
- “Pamphlets on the Case,” 176, 278.
-
- 1779.
-
- “Reported death of Mrs Rudd,” p. 327.
-
- 1800.
-
- “Reported death of Mrs Rudd,” pp. 188, 483.
-
- 1809.
-
-
-1834.
-
- Reference to the Perreau Case, _vide_ obituary notice of Alex.
- Adair, part ii. p. 318.
-
- The report of the celebrated Mrs Rudd’s death in vol. lxx.
- is inaccurate, as reference to the parish register of
- Hardingstone, Northampton, shows that a Mrs William Rudd was
- buried on February 7, 1800. There is evidence that she died in
- 1779.
-
-11. _The London Magazine._ Published by R. Baldwin at the Rose,
-Paternoster Row.
-
- (1775), pp. 300-307, 356-7, 376, 429, 488, 602, 657.
- (1775), pp. 53-54, 161, 327.
-
-12. _The Town and Country Magazine._ Published by A. Hamilton Junior
-near St. John’s Gate.
-
- (1775), pp. 300, 482, 629.
- (1776), p. 39.
-
-13. _The Westminster Magazine._ Published by Richardson and Urquhart at
-the Royal Exchange, and T. Wright, Essex St., Strand.
-
- (1775), pp. 119, 297, 304, 390, 475, 655.
- (1776), pp. 41-43.
-
-14. _The Convivial Magazine._ Published by T. Bell. Bell-Yard near
-Temple Bar.
-
- (1775), pp. 33, 98.
- (1776), pp. 171, 223, 247, 291.
-
-15. _The Annual Register_, xviii. 229.
-
-
-THE SONG “ROBIN ADAIR”
-
-V. _Notes and Queries._
-
- Third Series, v. 404, 442, 500; vi. 35, 96, 176, 254.
- Fourth Series, viii. 548; ix. 99, 130, 197.
- Fifth Series, v. 20.
- Eighth Series, vii. 267; x. 196, 242, 426; xi. 32.
-
- Although both words and music may have been plagiarised from
- old Irish ballad and old Irish melody, it is probable that
- the story of Surgeon Robert Adair and Lady Caroline Keppel
- suggested the later version of John Braham, December 17, 1811.
-
- * * * * *
-
-NOTE.--We are indebted to Sir Thomas Frankland for one of the most
-charming mezzotints by Wm. Ward, after Hoppner--a picture of his two
-daughters.
-
-
-
-
-THE KING’S ENGRAVER
-
-THE CASE OF WILLIAM WYNNE RYLAND, 1783
-
-
-About the time that Miss Blandy was commencing her ill-fated amour with
-Captain Cranstoun, a dark-eyed boy with earnest, clear-cut features,
-often carrying a portfolio of drawings under his arm, might have been
-met by any one who strolled along Fleet Street or the Strand in the
-early morning between Charing Cross and the Old Bailey. From his home
-beneath the grim shadow of Newgate prison, where his father, Edward
-Ryland, prints and engraves in a house next door to that in which
-thief-taker Wild levied blackmail, the young artist trudges each day to
-the St Martin’s Lane Academy. And should one meet him in the autumn of
-1749, he will be wearing a suit of solemn black; and his grave, eager
-face will seem more sombre than wont, for his patron and godfather,
-the good and kind Sir Watkin Williams-Wynne, has been killed by a fall
-from his horse, to the unspeakable grief of every son of gallant little
-Wales.
-
-[Illustration: Guil.ᵘˢ Wynne Ryland,
-
-Hist.ᵆ Calcographus.]
-
-Around the school of drawing where young Ryland is learning his craft,
-a new world is springing into life--a world of fancy, grace, and
-colour, destined to free old London from the sable sway of dulness.
-It is the world of art, over which the deep black deluge has rested
-for so long, soon to be peopled with the bright creations of genius.
-William Wynne Ryland will see some of these great ones ere he leaves
-St Martin’s Lane for the studio of a new master. Often, as he passes
-the coffee-tavern of Old Slaughter, he must catch sight of a placid,
-round-faced young man, with a mild pair of eyes that seem to need the
-aid of glasses, hurrying down Long Acre, while he envies Mr Reynolds,
-the portrait-painter, who has the entry to the Club that meets beneath
-the roof where Pope has held his court. Or, when he looks up at the
-house where the elegant Thornhill lived and worked, now the residence
-of Beau Hayman, more at home with the bottle than the brush, he may
-observe a tall, sentimental youth springing through the door, whose
-thoughts are far away amidst the woods and dales of Sudbury, where
-dwells a pretty miss called Peggy. And possibly, a little later, he
-will listen to the romantic fable that Tom Gainsborough has married a
-princess in disguise. Sometimes he may meet a middle-aged compatriot,
-named Richard Wilson, whose glowing scenes from Nature are to wrest the
-guerdon from France, and to found the incomparable school of British
-landscape.
-
-Frequently a smile will steal over Wynne Ryland’s grave, nervous lips,
-as a small boy with a big head and a long, Punch-like body scampers
-down the lane, whirling his crooked legs, and he will hail the
-truant with the cry: “What, little Joey, have you been tolling for a
-funeral?” But the breathless lad, who has wasted too much time in his
-favourite game of assisting his friend the sexton at St James’s Church,
-scuttles back to his casts and models. Perhaps, one day, this little
-Joey Nollekens, who in good time produces many a beautiful bust and
-statue, will be allowed to take his friend into the studio of the great
-good-natured Roubiliac. “Hush, hush!” we can hear the volatile master
-cry, as he drags his young admirer before the figure which his deft
-chisel has caressed for a last time; “look, he vil speak in a minute!”
-And as the youth gazes upon the noble work, his quick Welsh blood,
-warmed by the infection of genius, glows with like ambition to do and
-dare. Soon, also, he becomes a pupil of the sculptor in St Peter’s
-Court, from whom, whatever else he learns, he must acquire a boundless
-self-confidence.
-
-Shortly after the death of his godfather, young Wynne Ryland, now about
-seventeen years old, is bound apprentice to engraver Ravenet, who came
-over from France to help Hogarth with his plates, and who has set up a
-school south of the river in Lambeth Marsh. As the crows flies, it is a
-short journey from the Old Bailey, but one must turn up Ludgate Hill,
-wind round Black Friars through Water Lane, holding one’s nose if the
-wind comes north-west down the grimy Fleet, and from the steps take
-wherry to the Surrey side. Across the Thames, the wide, deep ditches,
-bordered by their fringes of willows, have changed the moss into a
-fertile plain.
-
-Old Ryland is careful to conciliate the French artist now and then by
-a judicious commission, which takes the form of woolly book-plates
-after Sam Wale--classic pictures according to Queen Anne traditions,
-filled with urns and hose-pipe torches, wooden scrolls of parchment,
-and busts on pillar-boxes, gentlemen in cotton dressing-gowns, with
-stony beards, and demure ladies in flowing nightshirts. We meet these
-curious plates in a rare copy of the Book of Common Prayer, with the
-sign of Edward Ryland of the Old Bailey, and similar ones in Sir John
-Hawkins’ interpretation of Old Isaac. Young Wynne takes his part
-in the work, and though Master François gives him the lead, aided
-by fellow-countrymen Canot and Scotin, while the senior prentices,
-Grignion and Walker, also ply their gravers, a glance at ‘Luke the
-Physician,’ or ‘St Matthew at the Receipt of Custom’ will show that the
-youthful Welshman already is the equal of the best of them. Thus for
-five years he works under Ravenet.
-
-It must have been a happy home in that dingy, sunless house in the Old
-Bailey, where Wynne Ryland’s early days were spent. The father, busy
-and prosperous, devoted to his wife, eager to encourage the talents of
-his boys, and observing proudly, with expert eye, the amazing genius
-of his third son. Yet over all there broods the sad shadow of the grim
-prison. Often in the night the silence is broken by the hoarse voice of
-the bellman chanting this refrain:--
-
- “You prisoners that are within,
- Who for wickedness and sin,
-
- “After many Mercies shown you, are now appointed to Dye to
- Morrow in the Forenoon: Give Ear and understand that to-morrow
- the Greatest Bell of St Sepulchre’s shall toll for you, in Form
- and Manner of a Passing Bell, as used to be tolled for those
- that are at the Point of Death....”
-
-It is the loathly knell of the unhappy wretches within the deep black
-walls. And in the morning the awful boom of St Sepulchre rolls over the
-housetops, while a ribald, drunken mob chokes the street. Then comes
-the clank and clatter of sheriffs officers, and, as the procession
-moves from the iron portals of Newgate, there follows an open cart,
-driven by a gruesome creature astride a coffin, and in which, bound and
-quaking, lie the poor passengers to Tyburn. Such scenes are a portion
-of the boyhood of William Wynne Ryland, the great engraver.
-
-But, after the long years of his apprenticeship have rolled away, a
-brighter and more glittering life than dingy old London, or even the
-whole world, can show, comes to the young genius. Since his youth Paris
-has been whispering to him her enticing summons--Paris, the Cyprus
-of art, where beauty, love, and colour walk hand in hand, and where
-he whose fingers can fashion their charms may become mightiest of
-the mighty. Two friends and old school-fellows are eager to make the
-same pilgrimage, and the indulgent parent, whose foresight perceives
-whither the talents of his gifted son will lead him, gives his consent.
-Although he knows that if the lowering storm-clouds shall burst, a
-visit to France may mean exile until the close of the war, he resolves
-that the young man shall pursue his art in the studios of the great
-French masters. So, early one morning the three enthusiasts mount
-Christopher Shaw’s stage-coach at the sign of the ‘Golden Cross’ and
-resting at Canterbury over night, reach Dover in good time the next
-day. With a fair wind, a stout smack will touch the opposite coast in a
-few hours, where they must tolerate a much less speedy team and a more
-shaky vehicle along the road to Paris.
-
-It is the eve before the deluge, and a sunset, having no part in the
-morrow, most brilliant and gorgeous of aspect. To the eye of the poet
-or painter there is no blemish in the fair landscape. His vision rests
-only upon graceful palace or shining gardens. Around the fountains,
-over the lawns, glide the creatures of Arcadia--beautiful gentlemen
-in dazzling frocks and scented ruffles, toying with bejewelled sword
-or flicking the lid of a golden snuff-box, moving their satin limbs
-in obeisance to their fair partners. Sweet ladies with snowy ringlets
-falling upon bare shoulders, the bloom of roses in their cheeks, and
-the sheen of pearls on their round breasts, fluttering like butterflies
-amidst the flower-beds, clad in shimmering draperies, flashing in
-a blaze of colour. Or, in the twinkling of an eye, the picture may
-dissolve, to become more entrancing. My lord now trips the mead a
-dainty Strephon, tuning his pipes, and shaking the ribbands at his
-knees, while his highborn Phyllis, still wearing her powdered hair and
-disdainful patches, twirls her silken ankles in the graceful freedom
-of short frocks. What though these scenes dwell only on the canvas
-of the painter of Valenciennes! They are as real as were visions of
-angels to the dreamer Blake! In the eyes of the artist the whole of
-laughing France must be a fairy Arcadia such as this, for the witching
-Pompadour, who fulfils the thoughts of prescient Watteau, directs the
-dance.
-
-Then from the thicket comes the tinkle of silvery laughter, where the
-paths wind beneath the branches to lonely dells, through which the
-sunlight streams in floods of amber between the leaves. Here, amidst
-the gold and olive shadows, which chase each other in flickering play
-round some graven image of goat-faced Pan, flits a wanton lady, flying
-from her persistent lover, but laughing, tripping, and calling to him
-still, as she draws him onward. Or, in the cool grove, crowned by a
-wealth of ivy-tinged greenery, a sylph-like figure sweeps through
-the air in her velvet swing, and her shining arms, raised to grasp
-the ropes, throw the contours of her form into shapely pose. From
-the bushes beneath sounds a burst of raillery, as her swain rises to
-his feet, gazing with rapture as the pretty girl flies past him and
-returns, adoring the tiny slippers, and the silken hose that vanish
-in dainty curves beneath a fluttering screen of drapery. The fancy of
-Fragonard has painted the spirit of his age--a world full of leaves,
-and flowers, and sunshine, where life moves with the rhythmic cadence
-of the swing, where every breath is pleasure, recking naught of pain or
-death.
-
-Each palace that crowns these fairy gardens, wherein the splendour of
-man reaches its highest goal, is a sanctuary dedicated to the worship
-of feminine beauty. From every wall glows her picture, majestic in
-opulent lines of dazzling flesh--Cytherea draped in creamy foam, or
-languishing upon her couch with robes of gossamer, the divinity of
-the shrine. All the fair throng of lords and ladies, flashing with
-brilliants, shining in silk attire, are her votaries, who bow in
-idolatry beneath the spell. More than human are these worshippers, for
-they have tasted the honey-dew upon her lips, and have drunk the milk
-of Paradise. Yet only half their life-story has been told by François
-Boucher. As semi-divinities he has limned them, sporting as children
-around their Venus-mother, grovelling as satyrs before the throne of
-their queen. We must turn to other pictures to view their destiny.
-Their fate is that of all mortals who seek to share the pleasures of
-the gods. Duped by the alluring smile of the deity, they spread their
-tiny wings to invade her home, and the outraged divinity turns upon
-them in her wrath and smites them with death.
-
-Not one of those who immortalise the romance of that fairy age can read
-the writing on the wall. Boucher, Fragonard, and their gay school, who
-are as blind to the future as the dead painter of Valenciennes, depict
-only what they see. The squalid little leech of Boudry is still in his
-country home, or wandering, an enthusiastic boy, in greedy pursuit of
-science to the sunny south; the sea-green _avocat_ of Arras has not yet
-looked upon the light; the lion-hearted tamer of the Gironde also is
-unborn. Even the surly, pock-fretten features of giant Mirabeau have
-never passed through the streets of Paris. A long, brilliant night is
-still before the giddy capital.
-
-None of the ominous hungry growls from squalid purlieus can arrest
-the ears of young Wynne Ryland, who has come to Paris to shake off
-the memory of sad Old 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 of genius he plunges into
-work at the seductive studio of the inspector of the Gobelins. Sieur
-Boucher is at the summit of his fame, petted by Madame de Pompadour,
-commissioned by King Pan. Surely the handsome, dark-faced Welshman, who
-can trace on copper the gallant compositions of his master as finely
-as any pupil of Le Bas, must have won the love of the gay, profligate
-painter. And, should it be his humour, what a strange world Monsieur
-Boucher can reveal to the pupil’s eyes! One day, perhaps, he may hold
-before him a jewelled fan, glowing with luscious pictures, which he has
-just created for la belle Marquise. Or it will be a fancy sketch of
-some lacquered tabouret that he has designed for her private room at
-Versailles. Sometimes he may grasp the young man’s arm, and, drawing
-him a little aside, will open a secret portfolio, whispering, with a
-smile upon his pleasure-worn face, and drooping his dissolute eyelids,
-“Pour le boudoir de Madame dans l’Hôtel de l’Arsenal.” Then, while
-Wynne Ryland gazes upon the beautiful Anacreontic pictures, which no
-scene within the cities of the plains can have excelled, his black,
-thoughtful eyes will flash with admiration, and his white teeth glitter
-between his parted lips. It is no place for innocence, nor for narrow
-virtue, this glowing, gilded salon of Sieur Boucher the incomparable.
-
-Yet the young Welshman does not neglect his proper craft. As the work
-of later years bears eloquent testimony, none of the gifted pupils of
-Le Bas have profited more from the instruction of that famous school.
-Jacques Philippe, as might be expected, turns him on to the plates
-of his _Fables choisies_, designs after Oudry-interpretations of La
-Fontaine parables, spread over four mighty tomes, beloved of the
-amateur who collects the _estampes galantes_. Volume II., bearing date
-1755, contains a couple of these--with signature in Gallic orthography,
-‘G. Riland’--portraits of peacock-feathered jay and boastful mule,
-humanised in the text, though strangely wooden in the picture.
-
-Still, the line-engraver, with all his splendid art, is not the master
-that moulds the destiny of William Wynne. Among the numerous pupils of
-Le Bas is an ingenious person named Gilles Demarteau, who is practising
-a new method of working his copper plate with tiny dots which make the
-finished print as smooth and soft as a drawing in chalk. Out of this
-arises a vehement artistic causerie, for it is a sure fact that a man
-of forty, one Jean Charles François, has received a pension of 600
-francs for this same invention, which, some say, another before him
-invented after all. Ryland, no doubt, learns everything he can from
-both pioneers, without troubling to ascertain the original discoverer,
-and, as this ‘stipple’ manner takes his fancy, he soon becomes as
-dexterous as those who teach him. Further, he finds that this same
-dotted plate may be tinted by the engraver’s brush, giving an almost
-perfect illusion of a picture in water-colours.
-
-At last the young Welshman makes up his mind to complete the grand
-tour, without which the education of an artist is incomplete. Some say
-that the medal he gained at the Académie Royale entitles him to free
-tuition at Rome. At all events, he flies south to blunt his pencil upon
-the gnarled contours of Michael Angelo, and to shade the tender lines
-of Raphael--for the immortals of Leyden and Seville have not yet thrown
-these high priests from their altar. This same enterprise proves of
-much service to him when, in a year or two, the great lords at home
-wish him to transcribe, in the novel ‘Demarteau-after-Boucher’ fashion,
-their collections of the great masters. Hitherto he has been true to
-his first love, the line-engraving, in the dainty fashion of Le Bas,
-and the Parisian connoisseurs of ’57, who glue their glasses upon the
-rounded limbs of Leda toying with her swan--a print after Boucher which
-Ryland has pulled from his plate--acknowledge that some good has come
-from Angleterre at last.
-
-With this same work the Welsh engraver first woos the British public,
-showing it at the Exhibition of the Society of Artists in Spring
-Gardens in the May of ’61. About this date, after an absence of five
-summers, when he is in his twenty-ninth year, he returns home to
-England. Chance has much in store for him. For a long time the canny
-Prime Minister, known to most of his fellow-countrymen as the Boot--an
-opprobrious, not a popular term,--has been looking out for a cheap
-line in engravings. Some time ago, courtly fellow-Scot Allan Ramsay
-had painted wonderful portraits of the noble favourite and royal
-Prince George; so, when the first was Premier and the other Defender
-of the Faith, it became necessary for the welfare of the nation that
-their lineaments should be scattered broadcast through the medium of a
-copper-plate.
-
-“Robie Strange is my man,” thinks painter Allan, and makes the
-mistake of telling his illustrious ex-sitters before he has caught
-his engraver. There is a dreadful _contretemps_. Stout-hearted Robie
-is acquainted with Scottish truck--he will have none of them. “Off to
-Rome to copy great masters,” is the excuse. “Cannot waste four years
-over your pictures!” But in stout Robie’s heart of hearts there may
-lurk another motive; for Robie has whirled his claymore at Prestonpans,
-and Charlie is his darling. Indeed, he might have gone the way of
-wry-necked old Lovat had not a devoted damsel allowed him to hide
-beneath her hoop--to whose skirts, very properly, he remained attached
-ever after. Robie snorts at the canny price they offer him. A hundred
-pounds to engrave the cod-fish features of royal George! when Rome and
-the great masters are calling loudly, where he will kiss hands with his
-own King James III. “No, thank you!” says Robie, and, packing up chalks
-and drawing-board, takes himself off on his travels.
-
-In this dilemma Mæcenas Bute, who, to do him justice, keeps his eyes
-open for budding genius, hears of the young Welsh engraver, the beater
-of Frenchmen on their own soil. Being an art-collector, probably he
-has seen an assortment of the fleshy prints after Boucher. So, as
-Robie is with Charlie over the water, Bute secures Ryland to copy his
-likeness by the polite Allan, and, in due course, “the handsomest legs
-in England”--legs literally fit for a boot--appear in a very creditable
-line-engraving, emblazoned with a coat of arms. Thus in this month of
-February 1763 William Wynne has reached the top of the tree, happy
-and smiling, at Ye Red Lamp, Russell Street, Covent Garden, close to
-Button’s and Will’s. The portrait of the beautiful legs, along with
-his red-chalk imitations--employed industriously ever since his return
-from the Continent in several sketches from the old masters,--convinces
-‘Modern Mæcenas’ that Robie’s room is better than his company. A word
-whispered in the ear of the royal mother would be enough to persuade
-apron-string George that the clever Welshman is the artist for his
-features. At all events the great honour is offered, and Taffy, very
-shrewdly keeping his head, takes care that, from his point of view, it
-is a good deal. It is a most amazing deal--£100 down for the drawings,
-£50 a quarter as long as the work lasts, and the proceeds of the
-copyright. However, thus it stands--Wynne Ryland blazons himself with
-the fearsome title, ‘Calcographus Regis Britanniæ’ and, setting up
-in the true manner of a master, begins to take pupils. One of these,
-worthy James Strutt, who comes to him the year after his achievement
-with the beautiful legs, remains a trusted friend through life, and the
-tutor, in turn, of his eldest son, who, alas, meets an early death.
-
-During the next four years, being paid for time, Ryland, like a true
-British workman, continues to pick out slowly the salmon-lips and
-Gillray stare of his royal master. A large number of the red-chalk
-engravings from pictures of the great painters in the possession of
-noble patrons belong to this period; and when George is finished, he
-goes on to copy Cotes’ picture of the Queen with the infant Princess
-Royal in her arms. While he is basking in smiles from the throne, he
-is employed in other ways, visiting Paris in the middle of his work to
-collect engravings for the royal connoisseur, which prints, we are told
-by the festive Wille, are “magnifiques épreuves ... fourniés comme pour
-un roi.”
-
-[Illustration: _HIS MAJESTY KING GEORGE III.
-
-ENGRAVED BY RYLAND._]
-
-These are the halcyon times of the artist’s life--these are the days
-when we catch a glimpse of him swaggering along Bow Street, with
-silver-hilted sword and ample ruffles, by the side of a heavy-jowled
-brawler of handsome person and agile, spiteful tongue, listening with
-black, eager eyes and flashing teeth to the jibes and sallies of his
-friend. Or, beneath the arm of this same aggressive Charles Churchill,
-he turns into Will’s coffee-house, and sits in easy deference on
-the fringe of a little ring, while he hears a torrent of charming,
-vicious diatribe, at the expense of poor patron Bute, pouring from the
-wine-stained lips of the cross-eyed apostle of liberty. Or perhaps poet
-Charles, who wields the Twickenham rapier in the fashion of a butcher
-with his cleaver, may take up this Dunciad of peers, roaring out a
-gruesome fable--how poor John Ayliffe was strung up at Tyburn to shut
-his lips concerning the crimes of peculator Fox. Then, while they talk
-of the forged deed that brought the luckless agent to the gallows, a
-shudder may pass through the graceful limbs of artist William as he
-thinks what a small matter may take a man to the triple tree.
-
-At other times two chairs will halt in Russell Street, and Ryland and
-architect John Gwynn, gorgeous in brocade frocks, satin knee-breeches,
-and silk stockings, will step out gaily, giving the order to their
-bearers in two significant monosyllables--‘Carlisle House’ And among
-all the dazzling throng that crowds the salons of fair Therese Imer,
-alas for the worth of poor human nature! the one we know best--better,
-even, than the old maid in knickerbockers from Strawberry Hill--is a
-broad-limbed Italian, with frizzy hair and fierce nigger eyes; which
-same African-tinged gentleman moves through the company with much
-self-conscious play of robust leg, and a truculent stare, ogling
-such a one as half-draped Iphigenia Chudleigh, or making obeisance
-to buxom Caroline Harrington, while the whisper follows, keeping
-company the almost filial glance of pretty Sophy Cornelys--“The
-famous Casanova--it is the Chevalier de Seingalt.” Then, should Wynne
-Ryland draw close while the splendid blackguard babbles French to
-Milord Pembroke or Milord Baltimore, he will hear a dreadful tale of
-a certain Mademoiselle la Charpillon, who, to the eternal honour of
-her frail fame, has humiliated the sooty rascal to his native gutter.
-Wynne Ryland and companion John are very fond of these light and airy
-assemblies in Soho Square.
-
-For the clever engraver his connoisseur Majesty seems to foster a great
-regard. Possibly, the proof prints of Wille--‘fit for a king’--have
-been picked up for an old song, and tickle his thrifty soul. At all
-events, he is pleased to grant to the artist a most amazing royal
-boon; for, at his intercession, he--the third George, by the grace of
-God--actually pardons a capital felon. A ne’er-do-weel rascal this
-same poor felon, so tradition relates, but all the same he is Wynne
-Ryland’s own brother. Near Brentford, or upon breezy Hounslow Heath,
-or some such fashionable highwayman resort, in a drunken frolic--after
-the fashion of Silas Told’s respited friend David Morgan--he calls upon
-two unprotected females to stand and deliver. And for this same
-daring frolic the rash Richard Ryland is taken, tried, and handed over
-to Jack Ketch. And Jack soon would have made short work of Richard if
-the favourite engraver to the King had not moved the royal bowels to
-compassion. For, incredible though it may seem, his Majesty does turn
-his thumb to the side of mercy, and brother Richard receives pardon;
-after which exertion the royal bowels remain obdurate for all time.
-
-[Illustration: CHARLES ROGERS ESQʳ.]
-
-At last the regal portrait is finished, hanging in state upon the walls
-of the ‘Great Room’ belonging to the excellent Incorporated Society,
-when it opens its exhibition on the 22nd of April 1767. The artist is
-now a resident in Stafford Row, close to the Green Park, or, rather,
-as he prefers to particularise his address, ‘near the Queen’s Palace,’
-upon whose picture, with the slumbering baby Princess in her arms, he
-is engaged. His portrait by Pierre Falconet, drawn during the next
-year, shows him a man in the prime of life, with clean-cut, delicate
-profile and a neat bob-wig tied by black ribbon, published by a dutiful
-pupil who trades as Bryer & Co. in Cornhill. This kind of trade,
-unhappily, has much allurement for Wynne Ryland, who, with his splendid
-monopoly of plates--the royal George, her maternal Majesty, the Modern
-Mæcenas with his shapely legs--seems to scent appetising profits. So
-Bryer & Co. becomes Ryland & Co., and any of the royal public who
-desire these regal portraits must purchase them from the proprietors at
-No. 27 Cornhill, near the Royal Exchange. Unhappily for this same No.
-27, the public--enamoured of the Wilkes squint and disdaining the regal
-stare--do not treat these prints in the manner of hot cakes, and upon
-a fateful day in December 1771, No. 27 is in the hands of the broker’s
-men.
-
-Early in the same year a strange thing happens in Ryland’s studio. A
-proud father brings along his fourteen-year-old son, a boy of splendid
-and weird genius, as the sequel shows--a sequel prolific in pictures
-of the immortal sheik struggling against his environment of sands and
-storms and improvidence, which, like his interpreter Blake, sheik Job,
-overwhelmed by tree-trunk legs and half a gale of beard, regards as
-the judgment of his God. But this weird boy with the large head and
-amazing eyes objects to the parental scheme of making him a pupil of
-the great engraver. “Father, I do not like the man’s face,” murmurs boy
-Blake, when the pair have left Ryland’s studio. “It looks as if he will
-live to be hanged!” “Prescience, intuition--all the things not dreamt
-of in thy philosophy,” babble his legatee mystics, bowing the knee
-to jaundiced mind as rapturously as to portraits of human abortions,
-aping verbal harmony of empty sound, plastering deformities with
-giraffe necks and swollen limbs in a wealth of muddy hair and a saffron
-skin--good and sedulous disciples. Boy Blake can have heard nothing
-of the brother Richard hanging-escape! Such a small affair has never
-been breathed by fond parents who go to entrust a weird son to brother
-Wynne! Prescience, intuition, are more potent physical instincts than
-the throb of suggestion or empiric thought. Thus clamour legatee
-mystics, spurning the simple mental machinery put into motion by the
-association of ideas.
-
-It has been reserved for a lady of our own times, whose graceful
-pen has been devoted to the radiant prints of fair women of olden
-days, to tell the romantic story of poor, crushed, bankrupt Ryland
-and sweet feminine charity in the person of dove-eyed ‘Miss Angel’ A
-scene, alluring as any of the glowing old-world engravings, is this
-dainty-coloured picture painted by Mrs Frankau. Within the oak-panelled
-studio, through which the winter twilight is stealing in flickering
-shadows, the two ardent souls are wrapt in the communion of art. And
-while coy, diaphanous Angelica listens to the fascinating tongue of
-the virile, dark-skinned Welshman, her quick southern fancy whispers
-that this man is the knight-errant who shall write her fame amidst the
-stars. Ryland has come with a heart of lead; he goes away with a heart
-of gold. For one of the most famous of unions in the annals of painting
-has been sealed, and in a little while the prints after Kauffman will
-have captured the imagination of the whole world.
-
-In a house in Queen’s Row, Knightsbridge, the great engraver commences
-one of those life-and-death struggles that genius alone can wage
-successfully against malicious fate. Gradually--for he is young
-and strong and brave, while the trust of a sweet woman warms his
-courage--he emerges from the choking atmosphere of debt. One by one his
-creditors are paid, and at last, free from his bankrupt chains, he is
-his own master. It is a fine work, this proud, independent cancelling
-of obligations--merely moral claims--a fair tribute to the lady who
-has been his tutelar divinity. For it is through his engravings of
-Miss Angel’s pictures, to which he applies the ‘stipple method’ which
-he learnt in France, that he wins his way back to fame and fortune.
-Soon he is a contributor to the newly-formed Royal Academy exhibition,
-sending very properly as his first works a couple of drawings copied
-from the canvas of the sylph Kauffman. Thus pass three sober years,
-while he perfects his new art, living with his young wife far from
-the delights of town and the old seductive companionship, first at
-Knightsbridge, and then moving a couple of miles further out into rural
-Hammersmith.
-
-At last he resolves to tempt the grimy god of trade once more. Better
-assets are in his store than a salmon-profile king or maternal majesty,
-and he knows that the marketing bourgeois will not be hindered by
-squint of Wilkes from clamouring for his many pictures of Venus,
-beaming with the soft, dove-like eyes of pretty Miss Angel. So, in the
-third year after his bankruptcy, he hangs out his sign once more as an
-honest print-seller at No. 159 in the Strand, near Somerset House, by
-the corner of Strand Lane, trading as William Wynne Ryland, engraver
-to his Majesty. From the first the enterprise flourishes. Angelica’s
-plump little Cupids, drawn in rosy chalk, appeal in their suggestive
-resemblance to the heart of the British matron; the dainty Angelica
-Venus, with her large haunting eyes, becomes a pattern of female
-loveliness; Angelica’s mild and chaste interpretations of classic
-romance push aside all previous readings. More than all, the Kauffman
-pinks and yellows, transformed by the deft fingers of the wonderful
-Welshman into soft, rainbow-tinged impressions--like a delicate
-painting in water-colours--capture the public fancy. Such engravings
-never have been seen before, and never will be seen again. It is not
-strange that No. 159 in the Strand becomes one of the most popular
-print-shops in London.
-
-During those nine years, from 1774 until the spring of 1783, the
-trade venture of the engraver to his Majesty continues to enjoy great
-prosperity. Profits reach the sum of two thousand a year, while
-stock and plant swell to a total of five figures. Few well-fobbed
-merchants, no chair-sporting City dame, can resist the temptations of
-that seductive window. A pleasant sight for Miss Angel, that little
-knot of open-mouthed shop-gazers with burning pockets, as she passes
-in hackney coach, a vision of clinging drapery in her white Irish
-polonese. While, if at that moment the happy proprietor steps out,
-bound for the counting-house of Sir Charles Asgill and his friend Mr
-Nightingale, with whom he is having some considerable bill of exchange
-transactions--a glimpse of those large eyes and crest of feathers at
-the coach window will bring down his laced hat in a sweep of obeisance,
-as he bows to the knees. Then, after the bankers have discounted all
-he wants, he will hurry off to Golden Square to show his Miss Angel
-the last impressions of some of her pictures, glowing in colours, or
-copied in the popular shade of red. Perhaps, one of these days, as he
-comes near the studio, a chair may stop as he passes, from which glides
-a beautiful lady, wearing a crown of glorious hair, brushed from her
-forehead, who rests her starry eyes upon him for a moment with a slight
-motion of her tiny rosebud lips. And his heart will beat more quickly
-as he recognises the woman whose radiant face has brought poor Daniel
-Perreau and his brother to a shameful death.
-
-[Illustration: _IN MEMORY of GENERAL STANWIX’S DAUGHTER who was LOST in
-her passage from IRELAND.
-
-Sold at Nᵒ 159 near Somerset House, Strand May 10ᵗʰ, 1774._]
-
-For Wynne Ryland’s conscience is becoming a heavy burden. In spite
-of his princely income, artistic improvidence is beginning to weigh
-him down. Over his soul the like spirit that swayed Sieur Boucher the
-incomparable reigns absolute. Gilded rooms, where the Eo. tables pave
-the road to ruin, swallow his guineas in their rapacious maw. His open
-hand scatters gold amidst his friends. Miss Angel, his patron saint,
-returns to her native land. Although he remains the kind husband
-and devoted father, the shadow of sin creeps over his roof-tree. A
-pretty girl, whose fresh young beauty has stolen his heart from the
-mother of his children, becomes a mistress who squanders his earnings
-faster than they are reaped. Those bill of exchange transactions
-with bankers Asgill and Nightingale grow more considerable. Friends
-and accommodators Ransome and Moreland often receive him in their
-counting-house, with his pockets full of crisp notes drawn upon the
-Honourable the East India Company of Leadenhall Street; for this clean,
-easy paper-credit is always welcomed as deposit for current coin.
-
-At last comes the fatal crash, bursting over the town in a thunderclap,
-striking sorrow into the hearts of thousands. On the 3rd of April 1783,
-when the London merchant opens his newspaper--_Morning Chronicle or
-Daily Advertiser_--he reads there that William Wynne Ryland stands
-charged before the Right Hon. the Lord Mayor on suspicion of forging
-the acceptance of two bills of exchange for payment of £7114, with
-intent to defraud the United East India Company. Kind John Gwynn throws
-aside his plans of stately edifices, walking the streets with streaming
-eyes, sorrowing for his friend. Statuesque Domenico Angelo hurries to
-condole with poor Mary Ryland, and the sight of the agonised wife and
-children robs the good-hearted Italian swordsman of sleep. But the
-engraver had left his home at Knightsbridge on the first of the month,
-and although the City Marshal searches for him in the Old Bailey and in
-the Minories, nothing is heard of him for fourteen days.
-
-On the morning of the 15th of April, a drunken woman reels into the
-‘Brown Bear’ Bow Street, hiccupping an exciting story that entices
-the runners even from their pewter pots. She is the wife of a Stepney
-cobbler, who for many days has been harbouring a strange lodger--a man
-garbed in an old rusty coat, with green apron and worsted nightcap,
-who poses as invalid Mr Jackson who needs the country air; which same
-delicate invalid rests indoors all day, only venturing out after
-nightfall to enjoy the health-giving April east winds. But he is not
-Mr Jackson at all, babbles tipsy Mrs Cobbler Freeman, for, when taking
-one of his shoes to her husband to mend, she noticed a bit of paper
-pasted on the inside, and, tearing it away, she has seen written his
-real name--William Wynne Ryland. This is great news for the ‘Brown
-Bear’ runners, and Chief-officer Daly, accompanied by a fellow
-robin-redbreast, takes coach with Mrs Cobbler Freeman to Stepney Green.
-
-From his garret window the guilty engraver beholds the coming of the
-bloodhounds. With a brief prayer for pardon he flies to his razor, and
-when the constables burst through the door they find him stretched upon
-the boards with a gash across his throat. Still, he has not cheated
-cruel fate. A surgeon staunches his wound, and watchers surround his
-bed lest he should seek to meet death once more. In the agony of that
-long night, while physical torture conquers even the deep, black pain
-of unutterable despair, the wretched sufferer atones for the sins of
-a lifetime. Yet on the morrow they take him rudely from his couch,
-and while the foul cobbler goes clamouring to the India House for his
-blood-money, Ryland is brought before Sir Sampson Wright, who sits in
-the place of blind John Fielding in the office at Bow Street. There he
-is given over to Governor Smith, who carries him to the Bridewell at
-Tothill Fields, where he lies for weeks sick almost unto death.
-
-Newspaper canards spring up in wonted manner like mushrooms from a
-dunghill. Mr Ryland, who cannot recover--so they say--has confessed
-his crime to Sheriff Robert Taylor, naming also a pair of accomplices,
-and hints a third. As he cannot recover--so they say--Keeper Smith
-has a couple of men to watch him always, lest he should kill himself.
-Newspaper reason uses these odd arguments and more. Among the feasts
-of scandal crammed down the public gullet one fact is readily
-digested--Ryland is guilty beyond all refutation! Forged E.I.C. bills
-have been found in shoals--none but the great engraver could have
-been their author--he attempted self-murder because he was certain of
-conviction. All true, possibly; nay, probably, but where is the proof?
-
-The trial of the poor sick artist skips a session. In tender mercy
-those in power do not shut him up in fetid, overcrowded Newgate, but
-allow him to remain under the watchful care of good Keeper Smith. His
-kind jailor does everything in his power to lighten his dreary lot,
-making him a trusted friend, allowing him to take walks with him in the
-open street, confident that he will not break his parole. It is not
-until the eve of the session that they drive him to the Old Bailey,
-around whose bloodstained walls he used to play with his brothers as a
-child.
-
-On Saturday, the 26th of July, he is brought to face his accusers.
-Not until the last moment do Crown lawyers intimate the terms of
-indictment, for there are several forged bills laid to his charge, and,
-conviction appearing a matter of doubt, the Honourable E.I.C. wishes
-to be certain of its prey. So Crown lawyers select a minor charge--a
-small bill for £210--which they assert Ryland has copied and engraved
-from a true document, uttering it knowing it to be forged. Both bills
-have been lately in the prisoner’s possession--this is made clear--but
-which is the counterfeit? A hard nut for Crown lawyers, since both
-are like as two peas. Unless they show that the first which Ryland
-had received is the true one, their case falls to the ground, for no
-man can copy what he has not seen. A breathless crowd, whose hearts
-are all for the man in the dock, watch the ghastly duel of keen wits,
-for it is death to one if he is vanquished. Witnesses come and go,
-but tierce and parry keep the defendant unscathed. Witnesses advance
-and retire, but Crown lawyers find them weak reeds. Banker Ammersley
-swears to his signature on the first bill, but this proves nothing, as
-Banker Ammersley’s autograph is not the seal of Company John. One Holt,
-late E.I.C. secretary, whose brain is not so clear as it was, makes a
-dismal display in the box, while the courage of Ryland’s friends mounts
-high. One Omer, E.I.C. clerk, tries to spot the true bill, but counsel
-Peckham involves him in a maze of legerdemain. All the gallant little
-host of well-wishers, who have drunk deeply of newspaper canards, and
-still more insidious City gossip, are amazed that Hicks’s Hall should
-have deemed such evidence worthy of a true bill--amazed, moreover, that
-their friend seems to have a chance of escape.
-
-Suddenly the quick shadow of despair flits across the face of the
-prisoner. For a moment the brave, easy self-confidence leaves him
-naked to his enemies. Crown counsel Sylvester--who lives in fame as
-the judge of maiden Fenning--has played his last card, calling to
-the witness-box a calm, unemotional man of commerce, Mr Waterman of
-Maidstone, papermaker for twenty years. Then the reason of the Hicks’s
-Hall opinion is made clear. Papermaker Waterman brushes aside all
-doubts--he made the sheet upon which one of the bills is printed,
-recognising the marks of his moulds, distinguishable only by expert
-eye. Since this Maidstone Waterman is positive that the paper on which
-one of the E.I.C. acceptances is stamped did not reach London till May
-1783, it is certain that the first bill which came into the possession
-of Ryland was the true one accepted by the Company. Thus two counts of
-the indictment are decided--the last bill is the spurious one, and it
-was uttered by the prisoner.
-
-Yet what is the whole significance of this carefully accumulated
-evidence! Merely that an amazing forgery has been wrought, and that
-Ryland alone, who had the motive and the skill, possessed also the
-opportunity. Every heart within the crowded court is filled with pity
-for the accused man. Bankers Moreland and Ammersley, though called by
-the Crown, have striven to assist the defence. Prosecutors Sylvester,
-Rous, and Graham have shown no vindictive spirit. Even stripping Judge
-Buller--he who drew up a specification of rod for the benefit of
-wife-beaters--strives to find a “chasm in the evidence,” endeavouring
-to prove that the honourable servants of the E.I.C. have made a
-mistake. Finally, when this big-brained lady-whipping Buller comes to
-instruct the jury, he specially commends the prisoner’s defence--read
-by the clerk of arraigns, as poor Ryland’s throat is too sore for the
-effort--for its matter and good sense.
-
-Then mercy hides her face, for the youthful judge lays down calmly
-the most astounding of eighteenth-century judicial dogmas. “It stands
-prisoner,” declares this Buller, “to show how he came by the bill in
-order to prove he did not know it to be forged.” So--musty old twiners
-of red tape--they cannot fasten the guilt upon the man, thus with
-impotent _tu quoque_ they demand that he shall prove his innocence.
-Since they cannot rip him open in the witness-box, they shift their own
-burden upon his shoulders. Since he cannot prove his innocence, they
-deem him guilty, forgetting the good British legal converse of this
-proposition. Bewildered by judicial hair-splitting, the jury at last
-withdraw. No direct evidence convicts him--circumstances, prejudice
-rather, the whispered stories of numerous E.I.C. bills (forgeries all)
-that have passed through the hands of the engraver. If one indictment
-does not draw, others will follow--he had the motive, means, and
-opportunity, and he flew to his razor when the runners came to take
-him. Half an hour of such reasoning kneads the brains of jury into
-proper hanging shape, and they decide that to Tyburn the prisoner must
-go.
-
-Quiet and brave, as he has been through his long trial, the man in the
-dock rises to his feet when his judges return. Courage is stamped on
-the strong, deep lines of his face, though the face is white as his
-soft ruffles, or as the snowy vest that lies beneath his russet coat.
-Coming forward, he listens calmly while they declare him guilty,
-bowing to the Bench. A thrill runs through the court when the foreman
-pronounces the dread word, but, though all hearts are throbbing with
-pain, one fond hope rises in every breast--that the power of a gracious
-king will rescue this erring genius from a shameful death. Also, the
-poor servant himself thinks first of his royal master; for as he is
-conducted back to loathsome Newgate, he tells the friends around him
-that, although he has been the victim of persecution, he can perceive a
-beam of mercy. Alas, he could not know his sovereign!
-
-A week later the dreary session 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 this ordeal like the last.
-Already two petitions have been presented at Windsor--one the day
-after he was condemned, the other on the thirtieth of the month. It is
-supposed that he will be kept alive for a while, since he has begged
-that his life may be preserved a little longer, not for his own sake,
-but that he may finish some plates for the benefit of his wife and
-children. Even the heart of royal George may have been touched by the
-piteous request. So the prisoner spends the gloomy days in toiling at
-his task, scraping the copper sheets with his stipple-graver, literally
-dying in harness. Nor is it inadequate work, for when his printer is
-allowed to bring him the proofs he is able to murmur with satisfaction,
-“Mr Haddrill, my task is finished!” Yet two pictures after all are
-left incomplete, one of which Bartolozzi, to whom he sends to beg the
-favour, and who owes him as a master of his craft so much, promises
-to take in hand, while jovial William Sharp polishes the other. For
-King George, when pressed once more to spare the poor artist because
-of his great genius, replies sternly--“No; a man with such ample means
-of providing for his wants could not reasonably plead necessity as an
-excuse for his crime.” Material logic, worthy of the man!
-
-On Friday, the 29th of August, dawns the fatal morning. Before nine
-o’clock the outer Press Yard is overflowing with sight-seers; but
-because of Governor Akerman’s humane order, none are allowed within the
-smaller court to disturb the last moments of the unhappy sufferers.
-Presently the iron-studded door of the lodge is flung open, and Sheriff
-Taylor, bearing his wand of office, enters the prison to demand the
-bodies of his victims. Then through the expectant crowd the turnkeys
-slowly force a path, and down this narrow lane the malefactors walk
-one by one with hideous clank of fetters. On his knees beside a block
-of stone a creature with punch and hammer deftly rids them of their
-chains. Five times the strident blows echo through the vaulted walls,
-while as many unhappy wretches pass into the hands of the hangman’s
-lacqueys, busy with their bonds and cords. Last of all comes a slim,
-graceful figure, clad in a suit of mourning with white ruffles and
-silver shoe-buckles, unencumbered by chains, walking as unconcernedly
-as though he were a spectator of the scene. A shudder runs through
-the throng as all eyes rest upon the gifted artist, who, as he passes
-on, quietly salutes those friends whom he chances to recognise. With
-a respectful bow the Sheriff advances and leads the prisoner to the
-lodge, away from the crowded quadrangle.
-
-“Don’t tie Mr Ryland too tight,” he commands the attendants as they
-fasten the cords.
-
-“Never mind, sir,” is the quiet answer; “they give me no uneasiness.”
-
-All the time he chats calmly to those around, bearing himself in
-this, as through all other scenes to the end, as a brave heart and
-a gentleman. Then the clatter of arms is heard outside, for the
-City Marshal is bringing up his troop. A moment later the door is
-thrown back, and from the steps a stentorian voice bellows aloud,
-“Mr Ryland’s coach.” With brisk, easy steps he passes out into the
-street, closely followed by the attendant Ordinary. Suddenly he springs
-forward, and in an instant a tiny girl has thrown her little hands
-around his pinioned arms, while he kisses her passionately--his own
-daughter, the child of sin. Tenderly they induce him to hasten the
-agonising farewell, but his steel-clad soul is steadfast and unshaken.
-Tearing himself away, he hurries on with a firm tread.
-
-Then the procession moves forward. A strong company of Sheriff’s
-men and City Marshal’s constables leads the way, parting the dense
-surging mob for the progress of the official chariots and the black
-mourning-coach that follows next in line. Another carriage, in which
-sits one Lloyd, an ex-housebreaker turned psalm-singing penitent, comes
-after that of Ryland, and then the pair of loathsome carts with four
-more miserable victims. No cant or cowardice marks the bearing of the
-poor artist. Unlike the conventional hypocrite of such a time, his lips
-do not move in response to the exhortations of white-banded Ordinary
-Villette. No prayer-book rests in his fingers. Having made his peace
-with God, he does not deign to humour the prejudices of man. Unjustly,
-they are sending him to a cruel death. Why should he appear to worship
-in the fashion they have chosen? Thus, while the procession moves
-onward, his calm, inscrutable face gazes upon the scene that passes
-before his eyes.
-
-An amazing spectacle, this eighteenth-century march to Tyburn,
-revealing as completely as the roofless city of romance the human
-animal taken unawares. No braver picture of dauntless courage ever has
-been displayed in battlefield than the serene victim, tied and bound,
-who is drawn along slowly to his shameful death. Though the deep toll
-of St Sepulchre’s passing bell may beat in cruel blows against his
-heart, as he moves past the old church at whose font his brothers and
-sisters were given their Christian names, there is no tremor visible
-to the thousands who gloat upon his form. Down the slopes of Snow Hill
-runs the quick, eager whisper, for the eyes of all seek but one man,
-“Which is Mr Ryland?” And the careless murmur swells into a louder
-key, “There he is in the coach--that is he--that is Ryland”--the
-heartless babble of a multitude of savages. Thicker and thicker teems
-the concourse, as the procession crawls over the bridge and up Holbourn
-Hill, swollen like a black, turgid river by streams that flow from
-haunts of filth and foulness--the sweepings of the slums. Thieves,
-cut-throats, hoarse drunkards, and shrill strumpets join in the
-delirious march with the loud, mad tread of a thousand clattering feet.
-
-Thus they move onward. Within the sable coach the smug Ordinary is
-mumbling scraps of Holy Writ pertaining to the time and place, the
-valley of the shadow of death. In response, a hundred ribald oaths and
-loathsome jests are pealing all around. Within the sable coach the poor
-ecstatic housebreaker is piping a quavering hymn, his joints shaking
-in palsy, his eyes, which gleam in horrible whiteness, raised to the
-skies. All around, the hands of a hundred thieves are busy at work as
-they tramp along in this march to the grave. Beyond Chancery Lane the
-wide thoroughfare seems to pass into a new world. Although the street
-echoes still to the tread of ten thousand squalid footsteps, high up
-on either side, at the windows or in the narrow balconies, wealth and
-beauty take their part in the mighty spectacle. Sweet, pale faces
-look down, while soft, heaving bosoms press the casements. Beings who
-might soar amidst the stars are sunk in the mire--all compelled by the
-haunting, irresistible tramp rolling onward in the march of death.
-
-Yet the footsteps never pause. Forward still, winding through St
-Giles, the highroad to Tyburn opens to the view. There is no halt now
-for the Lazar-house bowl, nor would those fettered men in the carts
-wish to quaff it. Huddled together in the first, the three are babbling
-supplications; prone and fainting, a half-dying creature is stretched
-within the last. In front, the hysterical housebreaker is swaying like
-a drunkard on the seat of his coach, still quavering forth his piteous
-hymn. Only the artist, whose carriage leads the way to the shambles,
-gazing calmly around with grave, stony face, will have no truck with
-the cant of humanity. For his thoughts are far distant, fleeing from
-the mighty roll of footsteps till they soften to his ears like the
-murmur of muffled drums. All around him are visions of bygone days.
-Yon narrow road that is pouring forth its human torrent leads to Soho,
-where, with the gentle Gwynn, he used to visit the gilded palace of
-Therese Cornelys, or that other Carlisle House, the fencing-school of
-splendid Angelo. Down that long street is Golden Square, but there is
-no pretty Miss Angel to weep for him. And far away, beyond the distant
-horizon, lies the palace of his king, but before it there is reared the
-gaunt, frightful spectre of the triple tree.
-
-Then the sound of voices swells louder while the march is stayed.
-Through the windows of his coach he can see the three bare posts close
-at hand, so that he can almost touch them. Slowly the creaking carts
-roll forward, halting beneath the wooden bars, and a sweeping circle of
-soldiers spreads itself around. Perched upon the park wall is a long
-mass of expectant faces. Here and there rise huge stands, tier upon
-tier, choked to the full with swaying humanity. As far as the eye can
-reach is a dense, surging throng, crushing forward, ever crushing, as
-though eager to press the victims to their doom.
-
-Presently the black clouds that have been slowly unfurling their
-shadows across the August sky burst in a peal of thunder, and the
-tempest rushes through the air. Amidst the flashes of lightning, a
-fierce rainstorm hurls itself to earth. For a moment the bloody work
-must pause, since it is impossible to stand against the blinding
-torrents. Half an hour passes. Then the deluge ceases as suddenly as it
-arose. Hastily the Sheriff gives his orders, and soon expert hands have
-arranged the ropes around the necks of the three rain-soaked wretches
-in the cart. Swiftly the second tumbril, in which the sick man is lying
-prostrate, backs to the coach where sits the penitent housebreaker, and
-he is summoned to the gallows. In a few moments the halters are placed
-upon their heads, while the contrite thief entreats the multitude to
-take warning from his fate. At last, when all is ready, they call upon
-Mr Ryland. Springing lightly down the steps, he mounts the cart, and
-stands beside his two fellow-sufferers--a brave, graceful gentleman in
-black, quiet and unflinching. Strange contrast indeed to the swooning
-creature on the floor, or to the noisy burglar, who shrieks to heaven,
-wringing his hands. Ordinary Villette comes forward, pressing his
-holy attentions upon the unhappy artist, who listens to him calmly
-and respectfully, while close at hand his wretched companions pray
-long and loud. Suddenly there is a shrill, wailing sound, rising and
-falling in equal cadence with the see-saw rhythm of a hymn, “The
-Sinner’s Lamentation,” which four terror-stricken creatures, with their
-heads thrown back, bellow loudly to the skies. And all this time,
-firm, motionless, inscrutable, bearing even the greatest ignominy--the
-contact of these foul ones--without a tremor, Wynne Ryland stands
-silent, waiting for the last cruel moment. Swiftly it comes. His face
-is covered, the hangman lashes his horse, the foothold sweeps from
-beneath, and he passes into oblivion. To the other five who sway in the
-air at his elbow (save one) death also is merciful.
-
-A holiday of butchery, cries Mercy; yea, and more, a holiday in which
-butchery alone has a part, giving naught that chance or strength or
-valour might lend its victim; butchery a thousand times more squalid
-than that of the noble Roman. Ah, but it is the pious retribution of
-majestic laws, declares the spirit of those times; the just conclusion
-of the social contract; butchery, alas! for these poor victims can have
-no resemblance to the gladiators of the arena. Yes, indeed, retorts
-Mercy; it is the vengeance of the sacred majesty of commerce, whose
-garments have been soiled by the hands of these malefactors, which
-cannot be appeased by the code of savages, an eye for an eye, a life
-for a life. Yet ’tis stern for the sake of utility, pleads the spirit;
-harsh for the public good, so that the evil-doer may be terrified to
-the advantage of all innocence, and to the encouragement of a Christian
-life. But what of that handsome youth, is the reply, whose face is
-seared by vice, and whose hand is in the fob of your sleek, well-fed
-City merchant: is this one dismayed by these six dangling victims on
-the tree? No, answers the spirit; but we must not adopt a universal
-conclusion from a particular case, for how can we judge how many of the
-tempted have been saved from crime by the terrible example of the fatal
-rope? True in logic, false in truth, Mercy well may thunder--a valid
-deduction from _conditional_ premiss, but the terms of jurisprudence
-should not be qualified by an ‘if’ Thus, surely, unless we admit the
-old Hebrew ‘eye for an eye’ dogma, must we view all legal punishments
-that deprive a fellow-creature of his life. Alas, that we are
-controlled by the logic of other times!
-
-The same coach that conveyed William Wynne Ryland along the road to
-Tyburn brought back his dead body to his friends. Five days later--on
-Thursday, the 3rd of September--they took him to the tiny churchyard
-of Feltham, beyond Hounslow, where his father and mother had been laid
-to rest. For a long time after his death Mrs Ryland continued to keep
-a print-shop at the corner of Berners Street, where her husband’s
-engravings commanded a large sale. Subsequently she transferred her
-business to New Bond Street. From contemporary newspapers we learn that
-the Ryland plates were much sought after in Paris when his untimely
-fate became known. Nine years later, on the 20th of October 1792, the
-unhappy wife went to join her husband in the little grass-plot of the
-village by the Thames.
-
-With the exception of that mighty scholar Eugene Aram, the eighteenth
-century never suffered deeper loss by the hangman’s rope than in the
-death of brave and graceful Wynne Ryland. Just as the marvellous usher
-is the greatest of schoolmen, so is the Strand engraver incomparably
-the greatest artist that ended his days upon the scaffold. With
-him the dissolute and passionate Theodore Gardelle can no more be
-contrasted than poet Gahagan with the former. Yet, unlike the sombre
-Aram, poor Ryland did not bear the stain of blood upon his hands. Nor
-was the evidence of his guilt less open to doubt. Because he failed
-to prove his innocence they sent him to his death. Still, although
-there was no lack of tears and lamentation, his cruel fate did not
-excite the same interest nor cause the universal consternation that
-was aroused in similar cases. Neither Horace Walpole, Mrs Delany, nor
-George Selwyn speak his name, and gossip Tom Smith merely mentions him
-incidentally in a list of engravers. A reason is not far to seek. Not
-being a man of fashion, how was it possible that an epoch which had
-beheld so many stupendous melodramas should be greatly shocked by his
-atonement? Preacher Dodd, the pet of devout ladies; the unfortunate
-brothers over whom the charms of Margaret Rudd cast the halo of
-romance; soldier-parson Hackman, with his love and madness; poisonous
-Captain Donellan of Lawford Hall--all these magnificent criminals had
-lately made the march to Tyburn, or elsewhere. Little wonder that
-society, _ennuyé_ by the sight of the gallows, had lost its zest for
-convict-worship.
-
-To say that William Wynne Ryland might have been the greatest engraver
-that the world has seen would be to state an equivocal proposition,
-since modern print-science, to which the splendid art has given
-birth, scarce realises comparative methods, and has no complete list
-of precise terms. Yet the assertion that none have ever excelled him
-as a creator of the coloured stipple is a mere platitude. Also, it
-would be difficult to name any other artist who has produced finer
-work in all the three great branches of engraving--line, dot, and
-mezzotint. Still, like every rolling stone, he suggests rather than
-demonstrates the possession of superlative powers. Although few surpass
-him as a draughtsman, colourist, and craftsman, he shares the fate of
-all who pursue unworthy models. While the fair Kauffman sinks into
-insignificance in contrast to Sir Joshua, the man who translated her
-pictures into their popular form is worthy to take his place beside
-all the masters who fashioned engravings after Reynolds. Through the
-whole of his life it is the same. In careless vigour he speeds along
-the difficult paths that lead to the golden mountain-tops, but never
-reaches the summit. To Wale or to Oudry he gives more than to François
-Boucher. Smiling Ramsay and courtly Bute snatch him from his allegiance
-to the mighty Italians. Always opportunist, the pleasures of the world
-entangle him amidst a stifling undergrowth, where his wings may not
-expand to bear him aloft, free and unconfined.
-
-Nor are his copies of Angelica the best that she can offer. In humble
-servitude he seems to take all that is given to him. The slave of
-popular taste, unlike Bartolozzi he never casts off his shackles. A
-simpering Venus, an over-fed Cupid, a Grecian warrior with a feminine
-frame--these are the subjects upon which he wastes his powers. Even
-when opportunity comes to draw a human portrait in the person of a
-noble woman, he has to struggle against the mockery of a burlesque
-dress--furled Turkish trousers, or a Grecian turban. Yet how different
-is the obvious ideal! Since he could transform the work of ‘Miss Angel’
-with such wondrous art, conjecture may dream of entrancing pictures
-after Gainsborough, in miniature, but in perfect semblance, glowing
-with all the gorgeous tints of the great master.
-
-An illustrious feather-pate, gazing with idolatry upon his own modern
-photograph, has screamed, “Camera beats the brush! Look upon that
-picture, and then presume to tell me that Rembrandt or Velasquez has
-fashioned its equal.” Obviously, for those painters never had such a
-model as illustrious feather-pate. Yet feather-pate but babbles the
-gibberish of his times. All who inveigh against soulless lithograph or
-poll-parrot photography, saying that monarchs of the brush are with us
-still whose works are worthy of the engraver’s steel, cry as prophets
-of the wilderness. “Camera beats the print,” shrieks Cosmos; “magna est
-vilitas, et prævalebit.” Thus poor Cinderella, who never went to the
-ball with her more gorgeous sisters, is driven even from her home in
-the kitchen.
-
-Still, could some god transport Wynne Ryland from the sunny plains,
-he would find work for his hand as alluring as the canvas of Angelica
-Kauffman. In the gossamer creations of such as Alma Tadema and Blair
-Leighton, the soft-coloured print might begin a new life. Is it too
-late to hope that ere he passed over the dark river he left his mantle
-upon the shore?
-
-
-
-
-BIBLIOGRAPHY OF THE RYLAND CASE
-
-
-I. CONTEMPORARY AUTHORITIES
-
-1. _Authentic Memoires of William Wynne Ryland._ Printed for J. Ryall,
-No. 17 Lombard Street, 1784. Brit. Mus.
-
- As these _Authentic Memoires_ do not present a very lucid
- account, it is necessary to place the principal events of Wynne
- Ryland’s career in chronological order:--
-
- Born November 2, 1733, in St John’s Street, Clerkenwell; the
- third son and fifth child of Edward and Mary Ryland.
-
- Baptized December 2, at St Martin’s Church, Ludgate, where his
- name appears in the register as William Wynn.
-
- Studied at St Martin’s Lane Academy--probably during the latter
- half of the forties.
-
- If, as is generally stated, he served an apprenticeship of five
- years with Ravenet, he must have been bound to that engraver
- before 1750.
-
- The second volume of _Les Fables choisies de la Fontaine_, with
- illustrations after Oudry, shows that he was in Paris in 1755.
- Having studied for two years under Le Bas, it would seem that
- he went to Boucher about 1757. According to most accounts he
- remained abroad for five years.
-
- Probably he was in England in 1761, for several of his
- red-chalk engravings after the old master were finished during
- the next year.
-
- In April 1762 he published at Lichfield Street, Soho, an
- engraving of George III., after Ramsay.
-
- In February 1763 his engraving of Lord Bute, after Ramsay, was
- finished.
-
- From 1763-67 he was engaged upon the portrait of George III. in
- his Coronation Robes, after Ramsay.
-
- In the spring of 1765 he visited Paris on a commission for the
- King (_v._ Journal of J. G. Wille).
-
- In 1767 he was living in Stafford Row, Pimlico.
-
- From 1767-69 he was engaged upon the portrait of the Queen,
- after Cotes.
-
- In 1767 or 1768 he entered into partnership with his late
- pupil, Henry Bryer, at 27 Cornhill. This firm became bankrupt
- in December 1771.
-
- In 1772 he was living at Queen’s Row, Knightsbridge, and in
- 1773 near the Hammersmith turnpike.
-
- In 1774 he opened his print-shop, No. 159 in the Strand.
-
- On November 4, 1782, he deposited the forged bill on the East
- India Company with Messrs Ransome, Moreland & Ammersley,
- bankers.
-
- On the 1st of April 1783 he fled from his home at
- Knightsbridge, and the advertisement offering £300 for his
- arrest was published in the newspapers on April 3.
-
-2. _A Catalogue of Mr Ryland’s Exhibition_ at Mr Pollard’s in
-Piccadilly. Brit. Mus.
-
-3. _Exhibition Catalogue of Incorporated Society of Artists_, 1761-69.
-“In their Great Room in Spring Gardens, Charing Cross.” Brit. Mus.
-
-The following were Ryland’s exhibits:--
-
- 1761. No. 215. A Print of “Jupiter and Leda,” after Boucher.
-
- 1767. No. 217. A Print of his Majesty in his Coronation Robes after Ramsay.
-
- 1769. No. 301. Two Drawings.
-
- No. 302. One Drawing.
-
-4. _Catalogue of the Royal Academy._ 1772-1775. Brit. Mus. The
-exhibits of Ryland, with their dates, are as follows:--
-
- 1772. No. 227. Vortigern falling in love with Rowena--after A. Kauffman.
-
- No. 228. The interview between Edgar and Elfrida after her marriage
- with Athelwald--after A. Kauffman.
-
- No. 229. A Portrait of a child drawing.
-
- 1773. No. 259. Domestic Employment--a drawing.
-
- 1774. No. 255. A Frame with sundry Portraits.
-
- No. 256. ” ” ”
-
- 1775. No. 268. Juno borrowing the Cestus from Venus. A Drawing in
- red chalk, after A. Kauffman.
-
-5. _Dodd’s Memoires of English Engravers_, xi. pp. 104-110. Add. MSS.
-33404. Brit. Mus.
-
-6. _Joseph Strutt’s Biog. Dic. of Engravers_ (1785-6), ii. 285. Brit.
-Mus.
-
-7. _A Collection of Prints in Imitation of Drawings._ 2 vols. 1778.
-Edited by Charles Rogers. Brit. Mus.
-
- Ryland contributed fifty-seven plates. These two volumes should
- be included in any collection of Ryland’s works.
-
-8. _Nichol’s Literary Anecdotes_ (1813). Vol. iii. 256, vol. v. 668,
-681, 686.
-
-9. _Reminiscences of Henry Angelo._ 2 vols. London, 1828-30. Vol. i.
-pp. 473-83. New Edition by Joseph Grego and H. Lavers Smith. Kegan
-Paul. 1904. Vol. i. pp. 366, 370-75.
-
- Ryland was a frequent visitor at the fencing and riding school,
- which the elder Angelo had established at Carlisle House,
- Carlisle Street, and which, oddly enough, was the second
- building of that name in Soho Square.
-
-10. _Mémoires et Journal de J. G. Wille._ 2 vols. Jules Renouard.
-Paris, 1857. Vol. i. pp. 287, 288.
-
- Wille met Ryland in Paris on April 17, April 18, and May 9,
- 1765. He tells us that he had been acquainted with him when the
- English engraver was in France seven or eight years previously
- (_i.e._ in 1757-1758), which dates fit in with other known
- incidents of Ryland’s life.
-
-
-II. CONTEMPORARY NEWSPAPERS AND MAGAZINES
-
-1. _The Gentleman’s Magazine_ (1771), p. 572; (1778), p. 594; (1783),
-part i. pp. 359, 443; part ii. pp. 626, 710, 714; (1808), part i. p. 87.
-
- 2. _The European Magazine_ (1783), part ii. pp. 158, 172-173.
-
- 3. _The Morning Post_, April-August 1783.
-
- 4. _The Morning Chronicle_, do.
-
- 5. _The Morning Herald_, do.
-
- 6. _The London Chronicle_, do.
-
- 7. _The Public Advertiser_, do.
-
- 8. _The Daily Advertiser_, do.
-
- 9. _The General Advertiser_, do.
-
- 10. _The Whitehall Evening Post_, do.
-
- 11. _The London Recorder_, do.
-
- 12. _Ayre’s Sunday London Gazette_, do.
-
- 13. _The Gazetteer and New Daily Advertiser_, do.
-
- 14. _Lloyds Evening Post_, do.
-
- The most complete account of the trial will be found in the
- _Morning Post_, Monday, July 28, 1783. Those who are interested
- in the much-debated question whether the site of the ‘Tyburn
- Tree’ was in Connaught Square, Bryanston Street, or Upper
- Seymour Street, would do well to remember that on August 29,
- 1783 (so the papers tell us), the gallows were placed fifty
- yards nearer the park wall than usual. Naturally, its position
- was changed from time to time.
-
-
-NOTES
-
-NOTE I.--_Dic. Nat. Biog._ The date of Ryland’s birth is given as July
-1732! Nor was he the eldest, but the _third_ son of his father.
-
-NOTE II.--_Eighteenth Century Colour Prints._ Mrs Julia Frankau.
-Macmillan (1900).
-
-Mrs Frankau’s explanation of the flight of Ryland is scarcely
-plausible. It is not credible that a man who is engaged in a frantic
-search for a lost mistress would remain in close hiding, posing as
-an invalid, only venturing abroad after dark. Nor is it a tenable
-assumption that he attempted to commit suicide in a fit of despair
-because he fancied that he was being arrested for debt, and thus might
-lose all chance of finding his _chère amie_. One of the strongest
-pleas in his defence was that his fortune was ‘princely’ and he
-protested that he fled because he could not find the man from whom
-he had received the fatal bill. It is a strange coincidence that the
-discovery of the fraud upon the East India Company should have taken
-place on the eve of his disappearance. Moreover, he was not arrested
-for the forgery that secured his conviction. The warrant charged him
-with counterfeiting two other bills of exchange to the value of £7114
-(as reference to the advertisement columns of the daily papers of April
-3 will show), and it was not until this publicity that Mr Moreland,
-the banker, examined the bill for £210, which Ryland had deposited
-with his house. Thus the accusation of one crime led to the discovery
-of another! And it is still more strange that the artist should have
-cashed an East India Company bill of the value of £210 on September 19,
-1782, while on November 4 he should have handed to his banker another
-bill--an exact copy of the first--bearing a similar date, denomination,
-and acceptances. Although these two identical bills came into Ryland’s
-possession within the space of a few weeks, he did not seek an
-explanation of the remarkable coincidence. A careful survey of all the
-facts must convince everyone of the guilt of the unfortunate engraver,
-but it is a pleasure to be able to agree with Mrs Frankau--except
-in some minor details--in her contention that the evidence was not
-conclusive. Ryland was convicted because he failed to show that he had
-received the forged bill from another person, and to cast thus the
-burden of proof from the prosecution to the defence is quite foreign to
-the methods of a modern tribunal.
-
-Since the Catholic has become the spoilt child of contemporary
-literature, it is not surprising to find Wynne Ryland hailed as
-the victim of Protestant persecution. Yet there appears to be no
-evidence to support this assumption. There is not a line in the
-newspapers of the day to indicate that any anti-Romanist feeling was
-aroused, and had such been the case, the _Public Advertiser_, at all
-events, whose animosity towards ‘Popery’ is sufficiently evident,
-would have trumpeted loudly. It is significant that the mob never
-behaved with greater propriety--very unusual conduct in the howling
-Tyburn crowd--than on August 29, 1783. How different would it have
-been if the word had been whispered that a Papist was going to the
-gallows! Strutt and Angelo, who write so sympathetically of their
-friend, have nothing to say on this subject, and, indeed, accept his
-guilt as proved. Although the former, who wrote in 1785, might have
-reason for reticence, yet the latter, whose book was published a
-year before the Emancipation Act, could have no reason to suppress
-such evidence. Indeed, we have only the doubtful authority of the
-_Authentic Memoires_ for the statement that Ryland was a ‘supposed’
-Catholic in his early youth. With this very ambiguous suggestion we
-must reconcile the strange fact that he was buried in a graveyard of
-the Established Church, and that the last rites were performed by
-an Anglican clergyman. There are one or two slips of the pen in Mrs
-Frankau’s interesting memoir. As the catalogue of the Royal Academy
-shows that Ryland contributed his first drawing in 1772--four years
-after the institution was established--he was not “one of the earliest
-exhibitors.” From the same catalogue it appears that the print-shop
-in the Strand was opened in 1774. The date of the publication of the
-_Authentic Memoires_, given as 1794, is, of course, a clerical error.
-Owing to the footnote attached to Ryland’s letter to Francis Donaldson
-of Liverpool, printed in the _Morning Post_, September 2, 1783, the
-document must be regarded with suspicion. No trivial disagreement
-with the conclusions of Mrs Frankau can diminish the interest of her
-delightful account of the great engraver, which must remain the most
-valuable of recent monographs.
-
-NOTE III.--There are references to W. W. Ryland in the innumerable
-dictionaries of painters and engravers, French, German, and English,
-such as Basan, Le Blanc, Portalis and Beraldi, Andreas Andrescen,
-Redgrave, Bryan, etc. One of the best of modern notices will be found
-in the _Print Collectors’ Handbook_, by Alfred Whitman.
-
-
-
-
-A LIST OF WILLIAM WYNNE RYLAND’S ENGRAVINGS.
-
-(By RUTH BLEACKLEY.)
-
-
- 1. Les Grâces au Bain, after Boucher. }
- 2. La Belle Dormeuse, do. }
- 3. Le Repose Champêtre, do. }
- 4. Vue d’un pont, do. }
- 5. Berger passant une rivière, do. } 1757-60
- 6. La petite Repose, do. }
- 7. La Bonne Mère, do. }
- 8. La Marchande d’Oiseaux, do. }
- 9. I. and II. Vue de Fronville, do. }
- 10. Jupiter and Leda, do. }
-
- 11. George III., King of Great Britain. Published April 1762.
-
- 12. John Stuart, 3rd Earl of Bute--after Allan Ramsay. Published
- February 1763.
-
- 13. George III. in State Robes--after Allan Ramsay. Published 1767.
-
- 14. George III. (bust).
-
- 15. Queen Charlotte with infant (Princess Royal)--after Cotes.
- Published 1769.
-
- 16. Diogenes--after Salvator Rosa. Published 1771.
-
- 17. Antiochus and Stratonice--after P. da Cortona. Published 1772.
-
- 18. General Stanwix’s Daughter--after Angelica Kauffman (called also
- “The Pensive Muse”). Published in colours 1774.
-
- 19. Hope--after A. Kauffman--(a portrait of herself). Published in
- colours, February 7, 1775.
-
- 20. A Lady in a Turkish Dress--after A. Kauffman. Oval in colours.
- Published May 1, 1775.
-
- 21. A Lady in a Greek Dress--(the Duchess of Richmond)--after A.
- Kauffman. Published November 20, 1775.
-
- 22. Narcissus. Drawn and engraved by Ryland. Published January 12,
- 1775.
-
- 23. Domestick Employment. Drawn and engraved by Ryland, in colours.
- Published September 13, 1775.
-
- 24. Faith--after A. Kauffman. Published 1776.
-
- 25. Dormio Innocuus--after A. Kauffman. Circle in colours. Published
- May 21, 1776.
-
- 26. Olim Truncus--after A. Kauffman. Circle in colours and red.
- Published, first state, April 3; second state, May 1, 1776.
-
- 27. Juno cestum a Venere Postulat--after A. Kauffman. Circle in
- colours and red. Published January 1, 1777.
-
- 28. Achilles lamenting the Death of his friend Patroclus--after
- A. Kauffman. Published December 4, 1777, in colours and red.
-
- 29. Patience--after A. Kauffman. Published May 27, 1777.
-
- 30. Perseverance--after A. Kauffman. Published June 24, 1777.
-
- 31. Cupid Bound, with Nymphs breaking his Bow--after A. Kauffman.
- Published March 17, 1777.
-
- 32. Telemachus returns to Penelope--after A. Kauffman, in colours.
- Published December 4, 1777.
-
- 33. Venus in her Triumphal Chariot--after A. Kauffman, in colours
- and red. Published September 7, 1778.
-
- 34. Charles Rogers--mezzotint after Sir Joshua Reynolds. Published
- 1778.
-
- 35. Cleopatra decorating the Tomb of Mark Antony--after A. Kauffman.
- Published March 25, 1778, in colours.
-
- 36. Telemachus at the Court of Sparta--after A. Kauffman, in colours.
- Published 1778.
-
- 37. The Judgment of Paris--after A. Kauffman, in colours and red.
- Published January 17, 1778.
-
- 38. Maria Moulins--after A. Kauffman. Published 1779, in colours
- and red.
-
- 39. Eloisa--after A. Kauffman. Oval in colours and red. Published
- 1779.
-
- 40. Britannia directing Painting, Sculpture and Architecture to
- address themselves to Royal Munificence, etc.--after Cipriani,
- in colours and red. Published August 18, 1779.
-
- 41. Marianne. Drawn and engraved by Ryland. In colours and red.
- Published January 3, 1780.
-
- 42. Eleanor sucking the poison from the wound of King Edward--after
- A. Kauffman. Published March 1, 1780, in colours.
-
- 43. Lady Elizabeth Grey imploring pardon for her husband--after A.
- Kauffman. Published 1780, in colours and red.
-
- 44. The Flight of Paris and Helen--after A. Kauffman. Published 1781.
-
- 45. Venus presenting Helen to Paris--after A. Kauffman. Published
- 1781.
-
- 46. Cymon and Iphigenia--after A. Kauffman. Circle in colours.
- Published January 15, 1782.
-
- 47. Morning Amusement--after A. Kauffman. Published March 1, 1784.
-
- 48. King John signing the Magna Charta--after Mortimer. Published
- 1785. This plate was finished after Ryland’s death by Bartolozzi
- and published by the widow.
-
- 49. Interview between Edgar and Elfrida--after A. Kauffman. Published
- 1786. According to Bryan’s _Dictionary_ this plate was finished
- by W. Sharp and published by the widow.
-
- 50. Donald MacLeod, aged 102--after W. R. Bigg. Published 1790.
-
- The following I am unable to date:--
-
- 51. John, Duke of Lauderdale.
-
- 52. Henry, 7th Baron Digby.
-
- 53. Churchill, Duke of Marlborough.
-
- 54. Charity--after Van Dyck.
-
- 55. The Muse Erato--after Joseph Zucchi.
-
- 56. Les Muses (Urania, Clio, Thalia, and Erato)--after Cipriani.
-
- 57. Sir John Falstaff raising Recruits--after F. Hayman.
-
- 58. Interior of a Dutch Cabaret with peasants dancing--after R.
- Brackenberg.
-
- 59. Penelope awakened by Euryclea--after A. Kauffman.
-
- 60. Religion--after A. Kauffman.
-
- 61. Ludit Amabiliter--after A. Kauffman. Circle in colours.
-
- 62. Penelope hanging up the Bow of Ulysses--after A. Kauffman.
-
- 63. Achilles discovered by Ulysses in the disguise of a Virgin--after
- A. Kauffman.
-
- 64. Andromache weeping over the ashes of Hector--after A. Kauffman.
-
- 65. Samma at Benoni’s Grave--after A. Kauffman.
-
-_Note._--The _Morning Herald_, May 5, and the _Morning Post_, August
-28, 1783, state that Ryland left unfinished a plate of the Battle of
-Agincourt, after Mortimer.
-
-[Illustration: _Sir Joshua Reynolds Pinx._ _John Boydell excudit,
-1780._ _F. Bartolozzi Sculpsit._
-
-ANGELICA KAUFFMAN,
-
-_Ex. Academia Regali Artium Londini_
-
-Published Septʳ. 3; 1780 by John Boydell, London.]
-
-
-
-
-BOOK ILLUSTRATIONS
-
-
-1. The Book of Common Prayer. Published by Edward Ryland, May 1, 1755.
-Nine plates by Ryland--after S. Wale.
-
-2. The Book of Common Prayer in Welsh (1770), with the same plates as
-in former edition.
-
-3. The Complete Angler, by Isaac Walton, edited by Sir John Hawkins.
-With fourteen plates, dated 1759, by Ryland--after S. Wale. First
-edition 1760.
-
-4. “Les Fables choisies de la Fontaine.” Illustrated by J. B. Oudry
-(1755-59). Seven plates by Ryland in vols. ii., iii., and iv.
-
-5. L’Ecole Des Armes. Par M. Angelo. A Londres: chez R. & J. Dodsley,
-Pall Mall. February 1763. Second edition 1765. With forty-seven plates.
-A few copies in colours. Ryland engraved fourteen of these plates.
-Hall, Grignion, Elliot, and Chamber did the rest--all after drawings by
-John Gwynn. Thus Henry Angelo’s account of this work is inaccurate.
-
-6. A Collection of Prints in Imitation of Drawings. Edited by Charles
-Rogers. Published London 1778. Contains fifty-seven plates by Ryland in
-addition to the mezzotint portrait of Rogers.
-
-7. The School of Fencing, by D. Angelo, edited by Henry Angelo. 1787.
-With forty-seven plates, the same as in the first edition. This book
-is not well edited, as the letterpress does not always agree with the
-pictures.
-
-_Note._--In every case the date of the engraving has been copied from
-an existing impression. Possibly there are earlier and later states.
-
-
-
-
-A SOP TO CERBERUS
-
-THE CASE OF GOVERNOR WALL, 1782-1802
-
- “He wandered here, he wandered there,
- A fugitive like Cain,
- And mourned, like him, in dark despair
- A brother rashly slain.”
-
- --_A Tale without a Name._ JAMES MONTGOMERY.
-
-
-On the 26th of August 1782, a captain in the army, named Joseph Wall,
-just come home from foreign service, sat down to compose his report to
-the Secretary of State. A glance would tell that he was one of those
-chosen by destiny to rule man and enslave woman. Although the swift,
-hot courage of the Celt shone in his fearless eyes and slumbered in
-his rough-hewn features, the beetling brow, resolute jaw, and fierce,
-mobile mouth were softened by the gentle mesmeric charm that marks all
-of his race. In stature he was a giant; while his sweeping shoulders,
-which towered above the heads of most, the thick, gnarled fingers and
-stalwart limbs, indicated a mighty strength. For the rest, he was a
-clean-looking man, with light brown hair and a fresh complexion. Yet
-the dull grey lines in his face told that the tropics had levied that
-tax upon his physique which the British soldier is ever eager to pay.
-
-[Illustration: _Etched by J. Chapman_
-
-GOVERNOR WALL.
-
-_Published by J. Cundee Ivy Lane Janʸ, 1804_]
-
-There was nothing of moment in the officer’s report to Secretary
-Townshend. It was merely a rough account of the termination of his
-stewardship while Governor for eighteen months at the island of Goree.
-Mere chance had thrown this tiny sun-baked rock once more into the
-possession of Great Britain. Three years previously the French fleet
-under de Vaudreuil, _en route_ to the West Indies, sweeping down upon
-Senegal, had seized the English posts at Fort Lewis and Fort James. The
-victory of Sir Edward Hughes had reversed the position. By the capture
-of the island of Goree, which nestles south of Cape Verde scarcely
-three miles from the mainland, the approach to the enemies’ settlements
-on the opposite shore was placed in the hands of England. Being a
-station of some importance for trading purposes, owing to its proximity
-to two great rivers of West Africa, a British garrison remained there
-during the course of the war. Though deemed less unhealthy than the
-coast, its climate was deadly. Not a mile in length, and scarcely more
-than a quarter in breadth, the men had little scope for exercise. All
-ranks detested the place. The regiment was composed of the riff-raff of
-the army; the officers were those who could get no other appointment.
-
-Joseph Wall was worthy of better things. Nature had made him one
-of those soldiers of fortune whom his native land has sent forth
-unceasingly year by year into the armies of every country in the world.
-About the time of George III.’s accession he had flung aside the
-religion of his fathers to obtain a commission, and two years later, at
-the age of twenty-five, the young Irishman saw his first fight in the
-West Indies. His fiery valour during the storming of Fort Moro gained
-him promotion, and he returned home from Havannah in 1762 with the rank
-of captain. Fate, however, robbed him of his birthright, for twelve
-years of weary peace laid their rust upon his restless soul. Soon an
-appointment under Company John took him to Bombay, but opportunity
-never came to draw his sword in a war of nations. At the close of his
-residence in India he returned to his 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 spirit that could find
-no outlet under arms was ill fitted for the civilian’s life. Joseph
-Wall, the soldier of fortune, possessed none of the grace of humour
-which might have softened his red, untamable temper. Broils innumerable
-led to many a bloody duel, and on one occasion--so tradition
-relates--he crossed swords with ‘Fighting Fitzgerald’ Rumour credits
-him also with the death of a faithful friend, and, ’tis said, _dux
-femina facti_. Indeed, several affairs of gallantry stain his record,
-and once he was called upon to answer an insult to a lady in a court of
-justice.
-
-At last he sought active service once more. The British colony
-that borders the river Gambia in North-West Africa offered him
-employment, and Fort James, a station on the estuary, became his home.
-Unfortunately, Colonel Macnamara, the Lieutenant-Governor, was a man
-of similar disposition to his young officer, and during August 1776
-the inevitable encounter took place. Wall, on the plea of ill-health,
-happening to disregard one of the orders of his superior, was cast
-into prison without trial, and was immured for nine months. An action
-at law, which appears to have been heard during the year 1779, was the
-result, and the jury, who, guided by Lord Mansfield, held the opinion
-that Colonel Macnamara had acted with unnecessary severity, ordered him
-to pay the sum of a thousand pounds to the victim of his tyranny.
-
-Previously, having returned to England, the Irishman had become
-fortune-hunter, and cut a dash at Bath or Harrogate, searching in vain
-for his rich heiress. Such a precarious existence could not endure, and
-during the year 1780, Joseph Wall, whose finances were at a low ebb,
-again was compelled to seek employment. The command of the recently
-captured island of Goree was going a-begging--two Governors having
-succumbed to the climate in a space of eighteen months--and he accepted
-the post. Its perquisites were considerable; for as the control of the
-vast trade along the coast of Senegambia was in his hands, there were
-endless chances of lucrative commissions and levying extortion upon the
-native chiefs. Huge inflammable Wall was just the man to tame and cow
-the rebellious gaol-birds who formed his garrison, and he ruled them
-with a hand of steel. Neither men nor officers loved his methods. As
-ships touched but seldom at this far-distant port, the soldiers were
-called upon often to submit to short commons. A glance from the fiery
-Governor quelled the murmurs, for a merciless flogging was the fate of
-the unlucky one upon whom his eye rested for a second time. Even the
-iron frame of Joseph Wall was soon conquered by the deadly climate. In
-less than two years he was compelled to send in his resignation. On the
-11th of July 1782 he quitted the arid rock, and, his ship being lucky
-enough to avoid the cruisers of France and Spain, he landed safely
-at Portsmouth before the end of August. Thus it came about that this
-soured and disappointed man sent his report to Mr Townshend.
-
-Joseph Wall was only in his forty-sixth year. Although his health had
-broken down temporarily, he was capable still of a long period of
-active service. But the unkind fate that had offered his only chance at
-the close of the Seven Years’ War, and had kept him styed in Senegambia
-during the struggle with the American colonies, was smoothing the way
-for the younger Pitt and his ten years’ peace. Thus fortune sports
-with nations, giving to one Frederick, to another Daun, working
-miracles with Chatham, or assisting Choiseul to open the flood-gates
-of a deluge. Lucky, indeed, for humanity that every man has not his
-opportunity. Valour was not lacking in the British officers who fought
-at Lexington, at Bunker’s Hill or Saratoga, but theirs was no mate to
-the courage of those who did battle against them beneath the shadow of
-the rope. During the early years of the American War a hundred Joseph
-Wall might have erected a forest of gibbets and have made the colony
-a second Poland, but the United States never would have survived its
-birth. It is far better as it is. Truly, there were giants in those
-days--cruel, untamable giants, but capable of superhuman achievements;
-and though from time to time we cast off their chains, bidding them
-stalk through a world of slaughter, yet, to the credit of our race, the
-spirit even of that robust age kept them mostly in their dungeons of
-obscurity.
-
-For only ten months did the Irish soldier of fortune enjoy his
-retirement undisturbed. Dark rumours had been whispered of his bloody
-régime in West Africa, and one Captain Roberts made grave accusations,
-of which, however, a court-martial at the Horse Guards took little
-heed--merely censuring the giant tenderly in 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 lips of the
-slack and spiteful when a strenuous commander insists upon a rattle of
-bones. It was not until the troopship _Willington_ brought home the
-remainder of the garrison of Goree--now ceded to the French--that a
-more substantial charge was laid against the ex-Governor. In a few days
-the newspapers announced that the surgeon and a couple of officers, who
-had been examined before the Privy Council, had presented a terrible
-indictment of cruelty against their late commander. Towards the end
-of February 1784, two men set out for Bath to take Joseph Wall into
-custody. Although distressed by the warrant, he submitted quietly,
-merely asking that a lady friend should be allowed to accompany him
-to London. The ‘Castle Inn,’ Marlborough, was the first halting-place
-on the journey along the most famous of coach-roads, and on the 1st
-of March, the next evening, they rested at the old ‘Brown Bear’ in
-Reading. Here Captain Wall protested that his custodians should not
-occupy the same bedroom as himself; and to humour him, as ordinary
-mortals are in the habit of humouring a restive giant, they agreed to
-remain in an adjoining chamber. A drop to the ground from a first-floor
-window was not the obstacle to deter the untamable soldier, and the
-next morning the police-officers found that their captive had vanished.
-A reward of £200 was offered for his apprehension on the 8th of March,
-the day on which he is believed to have set foot on French soil. It
-is understood that he wrote to a friend, stating he should surrender
-for trial as soon as the popular clamour against him had died away,
-and it is certain that he sent a letter containing a similar promise
-to Secretary Townshend, now Lord Sydney, on the 15th of October
-of the same year. This intention, however, was not fulfilled, and
-gradually the case of Governor Wall, whose cruelty had excited so much
-indignation, faded from public memory.
-
-The cause of his arrest was an incident that occurred on the eve of
-his departure from Goree in 1782. For some time the felon soldiers
-under his command had been muttering low growls of discontent. Short
-allowance had been their lot for a long period, and the fear arose
-that the usual compensation would not be paid unless they received it
-before the Governor left the island. On the 10th of July preparations
-were hastened for Wall’s departure. All was bustle at the storekeeper’s
-office, where a servant was packing the commander’s luggage. No doubt
-it was whispered among the men that the home-bound vessel would carry a
-wealth of merchandise, which by right should be left for the garrison.
-Early in the morning the Governor observed a body of soldiers, twenty
-or more, marching across the hot sand towards his residence, where
-they had no right to intrude. Though enraged at this evidence of
-insubordination, he merely gave an order that they should retire. Two
-hours later, a still larger number was seen approaching Government
-House. Wall went out into the blazing tropical sunlight to meet them.
-So determined were they to vent their grievances that they did not
-pause to consider that this act was flagrant mutiny. Since their
-commanding officer had forbidden a similar gathering, the right course
-was to send a deputation to the Governor, explaining their demands
-through the proper channels.
-
-That Wall considered the situation was serious, is proved by the fact
-that he temporised with the men, dismissing them without any threat
-of serious punishment. In later days he protested--which version was
-endorsed by several eye-witnesses--that the conduct of the soldiers
-who spoke to him was insolent and menacing, and that he induced them
-to disperse by a promise to consider their claims. At all events, he
-came to no decision until he had taken counsel with his officers, whom
-he met, as usual, at the two o’clock dinner. The methods adopted show
-that elaborate precautions were deemed necessary in order to avoid
-a grave disturbance. Roll-call was sounded about an hour before the
-proper time, and as the pink flush of evening was stealing over the
-burning rock the soldiers assembled on parade. Unaware that reprisals
-were contemplated, the corps was drawn up in a half-circle within
-the ramparts, in the centre of which stood the Governor and his four
-available officers. As the men were falling in, or perhaps a little
-while before, another case of insubordination arose. Word was brought
-that there was a mutiny in the main guard. Away hurried the intrepid
-commander to the scene of the disturbance. Snatching a bayonet from the
-hands of a drunken sentry, the angry giant belaboured the man lustily,
-and thrust back an excited soldier named George Paterson, one of the
-ringleaders of the morning, who was about to break from the guard-room.
-
-Having thus smothered this miniature rebellion, the Governor, whose
-inflammable temper had burst its bonds, hastened back to the parade
-ground. In those robust times a commanding officer had rude methods
-of dealing with disobedient soldiers, and Wall had no tender scruples
-against straining to the utmost all the power that martial law had
-given him. Yet in spite of his bloody tyranny, it is impossible not to
-admire the courage of the stout-hearted Irishman. The whole regiment,
-two-thirds of which was composed of civil or military convicts who had
-exchanged prison life for servitude on the deadly island, loathed his
-authority. A few miles off on the coast lay the French settlements,
-where English rebels would be sure of an eager welcome. There were
-but seven officers to support the Governor, and one of these, who
-sympathised with the claims of the soldiers, was under arrest. Except
-half a dozen artillery-men and some blacks, the remainder of the
-garrison belonged to the ill-conditioned African corps--a hundred and
-fifty strong. One bold leader might have raised a swift mutiny. There
-was a ship in the harbour, and in a few hours the rebels would have
-been safe within Gallic territory in Senegal.
-
-But the courage of Joseph Wall, which had borne him across the rocky
-slopes of Moro amidst the hail of Spanish bullets, did not quail before
-the scowling faces of his own men. Calling two of them from the ranks
-of the circle--Benjamin Armstrong, sergeant, and George Robinson,
-private--he charged them with disorderly conduct during the morning,
-and commanded his officers to try them by drumhead court-martial.
-As the penalty had been decided previously, the proceedings were
-brief. After a few moments’ discussion the little tribunal announced
-the sentence--eight hundred lashes apiece for the two mutineers. A
-gun-carriage having been dragged forward, the men in turn were ordered
-to strip. The mode of punishment struck terror into every heart. No
-cat-o’-nine-tails could be found; nor was it thought safe to trust a
-white man with the flogging. When the victim was bound to the cannon,
-one of the blacks was called up, a rope put into his hand, and he was
-ordered in military formula to “do his duty.” After twenty-five lashes
-a new operator took his turn in the usual way. During the whole time
-the garrison surgeon looked on, but made no comment. A thousand strokes
-of the ‘cat’ was a common punishment in those Draconic days, and it
-seemed immaterial whether the flagellation was inflicted with a bunch
-of knotted leathern thongs or with a rope’s-end. When at last the long
-agony was over, the two poor soldiers were taken to nurse their bruised
-and swollen backs in the hospital.
-
-On the following morning, the 11th of July, the bloody work was
-continued. Drastic Wall thought fit to leave an imperishable record
-of his mode of government. Beneath the flaming blue sky the soldiers
-were marshalled upon the parade ground once more, and four of their
-number were selected for punishment in the same informal manner. George
-Paterson, the guard-room rebel, was sentenced to eight hundred lashes;
-Corporal Thomas Upton, a ringleader of the deputation, and Private
-William Evans, were condemned to receive three hundred and fifty and
-eight hundred strokes respectively; while Henry Fawcett, the drunken
-sentry, was let off with forty-seven. Having thus vindicated his
-authority, the terrible Governor proceeded to his ship, which, to the
-great joy of the awestruck garrison, weighed anchor the same day.
-
-Soon after his departure the drama became a tragedy. A poisonous
-climate and scanty rations had undermined the physique of the soldiers;
-besides which, the sickly season was at hand. The ignorance of the
-medical attendants was supplemented by an immoderate use of brandy.
-Since the first occupation of the island, men had dropped like flies,
-while to the sick and wounded a visit to the hospital was almost
-equivalent to a sentence of death. Corporal Thomas Upton died two days
-after his punishment; Sergeant Armstrong succumbed on the 15th of the
-month; George Paterson only survived until the 19th of July. Meanwhile,
-Joseph Wall, on the high seas, knew none of these things.
-
-Cruel, wanton, reckless as was the deed of the Governor of Goree,
-such things were of everyday occurrence in the army of his time. Sir
-Charles Napier has left record of the merciless floggings of which
-he was an eye-witness a decade later. Forty years after the Peace of
-Versailles a court-martial had no hesitation in passing a sentence of
-a thousand lashes. Although the rope’s-end employed in the punishment
-of Armstrong and his fellows was probably a more formidable instrument
-than the regimental ‘cat’ it was no more dangerous than the bunch of
-knotted cords used in the navy. A social system that permitted women
-and children to be hanged for petty larceny had a Spartan code for its
-soldiers on active service.
-
-Moreover, any lack of firmness on the part of Joseph Wall might have
-brought him face to face with a serious mutiny. Riot was the sole means
-of expression of the inarticulate mob, both civil and military. A few
-months after the disturbance at Goree, General Conway, Governor of
-Jersey, was called upon to quell a fierce rebellion among his troops.
-About the same time wild insubordination was rife in the regiments
-quartered at Wakefield and Rotherham. The danger of a similar outbreak
-in a far-off island, garrisoned for the most part by gaol-birds, and
-close to the French possessions, was multiplied a hundredfold. Severe
-as were the methods of Wall, had such a man been in command at the
-Nore the nation would have been spared the terror and ignominy of
-‘Admiral’ Parker. Unfortunately for himself, the discipline of the
-Irish giant was exerted to punish a personal affront. Had his soldiers
-refused to cheer the birthday of some German princeling, he might have
-flogged to death a whole company with impunity. Yet, relatively, the
-ways and means of inflammable Wall were tame. On the 4th of August
-1782, Captain Kenneth Mackenzie, who ruled over a similar regiment
-of convicts at Fort Morea on the coast of Africa, blew to atoms a
-mutinous fellow-Scot, a private under his command, from the mouth of a
-cannon. For this deed, being brought to trial two years later, he was
-condemned to death, but subsequently granted a free pardon. At the time
-of his escape from the ‘Brown Bear’ at Reading, there were rumours (so
-Wall alleges) that the Governor of Goree had put to death soldiers in
-Mackenzie fashion. In which case he bore the stigma of another’s sin.
-
-For twenty years after his flight from England Joseph Wall remained
-a fugitive from justice, being an exile for the greater proportion
-of the time. Paris was his principal abode, where he was able to
-meet many compatriots, who held commissions in the French army. Yet,
-although poor and in disgrace, he was never tempted to swerve from his
-allegiance to his king. To have joined the colours of France would have
-raised him from comparative poverty to affluence, but he kept loyal,
-treasuring the hope that some day he would be able to return to his
-country a free man. There is evidence of his presence in Paris at the
-time of the flight to Varennes in 1792; but previously he paid a visit
-to Scotland, and had married the fifth daughter of Baron Fortrose,
-Frances Mackenzie, who gave birth to a son in 1791. At one time he
-resided in Italy, where he wandered as far as Naples. All these years
-his crime lay heavy upon his conscience, and it is said that several
-times he meditated surrender. There is a legend that once he went as
-far as Calais with this intention, but, his resolution failing at the
-last moment, he remained on shore. By a strange chance, the boat in
-which he should have reached the packet was swamped in the harbour
-before his eyes--a noteworthy fact, like the drowning-escape of
-immortal Catherine Hayes, for all who credit the old adage.
-
-About the year 1797--so the _European Magazine_ tells us, although the
-date seems premature by three years--he came over to London incognito,
-where he lived with his wife in Upper Thornhaugh Street, Bedford
-Square, under the name of Thompson. One day, while some workmen were
-painting the house, he happened to express a few words of sympathy for
-a sickly apprentice lad, who he had been told was in a decline. “Yes,
-poor little fellow,” observed the foreman; “his father was flogged to
-death by that inhuman scoundrel, Governor Wall.” Sometimes in real life
-poetic justice will assert its power.
-
-For a long while the outlaw was undecided whether to run the risk of
-surrender. Under the shield of oblivion he might have continued to live
-in the metropolis without danger, for his crime was almost forgotten.
-Yet there were urgent reasons why he should vindicate his character, as
-his wife was entitled to property which she could not receive unless
-her husband appeared in person in a court of law. Before such a step
-could be taken it was necessary for him to stand his trial. In his
-dilemma he consulted Mr Alley, the famous counsel, who, in the face
-of his flight from justice, could give him only cold comfort. However,
-Joseph Wall was not the man to shirk risk in pursuit of a definite
-object. On the 5th of October 1801 he sent a letter to Lord Pelham,
-Secretary of State, announcing his presence in England; while on the
-2nd of November he appeared before the Privy Council, and was committed
-to Newgate.
-
-The Special Commission appointed to judge the case of Governor Wall
-met on the 20th of January 1802. At nine o’clock in the morning the
-Court assembled in all the majesty of a State trial. Its president was
-Sir Archibald Macdonald, Chief Baron of the Exchequer, a political
-Scot who, like many of his betters, owed his position to a wife.
-Sir Giles Rooke of Common Pleas, and Sir Soulden Lawrence of King’s
-Bench, two merciful and kind-hearted judges, sat on either side to
-give assistance. Never was there a more formidable array of counsel
-for the Crown. Grim and spiteful Attorney-General Edward Law; the
-urbane and much-underrated Spencer Perceval, Solicitor-General; Thomas
-Plumer, George Wood, and Charles Abbott, all three destined to hold
-distinguished positions on the Bench; and lastly, William Fielding,
-who, like his more famous father, became a London magistrate. Nor were
-the three barristers for the defence less illustrious: Newman Knowlys
-was appointed Recorder of London; John Gurney, one of the greatest of
-criminal advocates, rose to be a judge; and Alley, defender number
-three, was as astute a lawyer as any of the rest.
-
-No shudder of sympathy sweeps through the crowded court as the figure
-of the crimson giant passes into the dock. Outside swell the low
-growls of a gutter-wallowing mob; within, every heart cries aloud for
-vengeance upon the grim tyrant. Joseph Wall faces his accusers, as he
-faced all enemies, with fearless eyes and undaunted soul. From the
-firm, martial tread and high, unbent brow, none would judge that this
-is an old man, who has lived for sixty-five years. At the close of the
-indictment the voice of the prisoner rings through the court, to the
-surprise of all.
-
-“My lord,” he exclaims, “I cannot hear in this place. I hope your
-lordship will permit me to sit near my counsel.”
-
-“It is perfectly impossible,” stammers the scandalised scion of the
-Lords of the Isles. “There is a regular place appointed 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 spite of his opportunity by reason
-of instinctive tolerance for all savouring of bloodthirsty tyranny.
-Pinning the jury down to the first indictment, he bids them think only
-of the fustigation of Armstrong. “Can the prisoner prove a mutiny?” is
-Law’s reiterated demand. “You cannot flay soldiers alive, unless they
-deserve it!”
-
-Law-logic is a marvellous thing. “Wall left island day after flogging,”
-it persists; “_ergo_, no mutiny.” The jury suck in this eloquence
-open-mouthed--visions of neatly-plaited halters hover before their
-retinas. “Governors never turn their backs directly mutiny is quelled,”
-argues Law, and the myriad black-and-white sprites, who, invisible
-and in silence, weave their gossamer threads of passion into the webs
-of poor human nature, hear and tremble. Yet their handicraft still
-sparkles with the hues of Iris, for not even British law-giver can
-paint the spirits of the soul in the dull self-colour of his own dreary
-brain. “Generals never desert their beaten army,” we can hear Law
-thunder at Judges’ dinner ten years later; “Napoleon is still with his
-troops on the Beresina!” Wonderful logic, wonderful Law! Pity, for the
-sake of cocksuredom, that hearts do not beat as he bade them.
-
-“Prisoner did not report this rope’s-end business to Secretary
-Townshend,” cries the logician. “Why not? Because mutiny plea was an
-after-thought to cloak his crime.” One wonders of what fashion were
-the accounts of his stewardship, if any, that this stalwart pillar
-of Church and State made in daily confession to his God. Did he omit
-naught? Or did he report all cruel lashes for which he had given
-sentence, and did he speak of his savage opposition to a change of the
-bloody code? Kind forgetfulness given by Providence to those who need
-it most! “Prisoner did not report flogging, because he did not know the
-man was dead.” Jury mouths open wider upon this marvellous Law, for
-reason whispers in their ears, “Then prisoner did not intend that the
-man should die.” But reason is dinned out of their tradesmen pates.
-“After-thought--after-thought!” clangs ding-dong Law, and echo comes to
-the true and bewildered twelve: “Away with him to the gallows!”
-
-First witness appears--Evan Lewis--Cambrian bred; a 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 Street runner, brave in scarlet waistcoat. “No mutiny!”
-declares this Lewis. “Men were as good as gold. They couldn’t have been
-bad if they’d tried.” Perceval gently leads the witness along, and much
-is communicated. “Flogged to death without trial”--such is the meaning
-of Taffy’s testimony. In due course, other soldiers of the precious
-garrison follow--one, two, three, four, five--and the parrot cry, “No
-mutiny,” smites the ears of the tradesmen in the jury-box. The Scotch
-lip of the Lord-of-Isles grows more attenuated, and he sees the man in
-the dock crowned with halo of crimson. His busy pencil scribbles notes
-for the edification--at the proper time--of the luckless twelve men,
-good and true. “Witnesses each say different things,” writes Caledonian
-pencil. “But what else can you expect? The thing happened twenty years
-ago!” And this Caledonian tongue repeats--at the great and proper time.
-
-A gentleman and officer--for things are not what they seem--is produced
-by Law in due course, one Thomas Poplett, a lieutenant under untamable
-Wall. This estimable Poplett confesses the Governor had him safely
-under lock and key--for disobedience--on the day of flagellation, which
-shows that the red Irishman was not a bad judge of some men’s deserts.
-From his prison Poplett witnessed the thrashing of Armstrong, and he
-produces rope with which it was done, or rather someone told him, who
-had it from one of its nigger wielders, that this was the very same.
-The Caledonian pencil scribbles industriously. Hearsay evidence? not
-a bit of it. Nor proof of malice neither, for the nice Poplett may be
-a collector of curios. But the nice Poplett had done some odd things
-in his time; had been sacked from Lord George Germaine’s office for
-telling tales out of school--a dabbling-in-Funds speculation--such
-things as disgrace men still. The name of Poplett, too, had been posted
-in the Stock Exchange, with a footnote, ‘Lame-duck’ or some equivalent
-compliment. A most estimable witness, indeed, this nice Poplett.
-Splendid material for Caledonian pencil.
-
-There was yet another of similar breed--Peter Ferrick, surgeon of
-Goree. The rope’s-end business was well in hand when he arrived.
-Peter takes much credit for this unpunctuality, and the Lord of Isles
-jots it down a black mark against the prisoner--the why is not clear.
-“The Armstrong back-slashing did not seem more severe than usual to
-Doctor Ferrick, but the man is dead.” Doctor Ferrick was amazed at the
-time, but he knows now that the rope’s-end killed him--a marvellous
-pair of eyes in the skull of this Ferrick! “Brandy-drinking in the
-tropics after such fustigation would not be wholesome, and would be
-done contrary to leech-Ferrick’s orders.” Corollary, note by Scotch
-pencil--if there was brandy-drinking, the treatment was unskilful, and
-prisoner must answer for the leech-folly. Query--“Why didn’t Ferrick
-stop the flogging?” Great wrangling among counsel on account of this
-same query. “Improper question--the twelve honest tradesmen must not
-be prejudiced against the man in the dock.” Still, innuendo remains:
-_i.e._ leech-Ferrick did not interfere, because he was afraid of Wall!
-The Scotch lip lengthens, and its owner pats the timid leech on the
-back approvingly. What a grim, bloodthirsty tyrant, this Governor Wall!
-think the honest twelve. Leech-Ferrick steps down, proud and satisfied
-that Caledonian pencil has wrote him down an ass. To hang Wall is all
-he cares. Better a live donkey than a dead giant. Going home, he comes
-to the bad end of many fools--he writes a letter, which is printed by
-_The Times_.
-
-Then the tyrant is called upon for his defence. It is simple and
-straightforward, for he knows nothing of Law-logic. “The soldiers were
-turbulent; Armstrong was disobedient; every cat-o’-nine-tails was
-destroyed, so he did the thrashing with a rope; he had no intention
-of killing the man, who might not have died but for brandy-soaking in
-hospital; he ran away from Reading twenty years ago, because the mob
-was howling for his blood, believing that he, like Kenneth Mackenzie,
-had blown men from cannons.” _N.B._--The red soldier must have
-remembered how successfully the ’57 mob had howled for the death of
-kid-gloved Byng.
-
-Witnesses for the crimson tyrant follow--a poor lot. Number one,
-mincing Mrs Lacy, wife of late second in command at Goree. This
-lady gets angry with magnificent Law, to the great scandalisation
-of the Lord of Isles, and tries to put everyone right, for they
-are all wrong. Contradictions annoy the Court. When there has been
-plain sailing--though close to the wind, no matter--it is annoying
-to think out new and perplexing tracks. “Welshman Lewis was not
-orderly-sergeant,” persists Mrs Lacy. “The deputation to the Governor
-was eighty strong. Her husband’s brain was turned by the sun in 1784,
-so he would have been no use as witness to the arrested Governor.”
-All this borders on the superfluous, shocking the Chief Baron, upon
-whom the honest twelve glue their round and honest eyes. “The soldiers
-threatened the Governor--upon my oath, they did,” vociferates Mrs Lacy,
-while the Lord-of-Isles, no doubt, thinks sadly of another such shrill
-voice that assails his ears at home. Then magnificent Law--a naughty
-Attorney-General now--plies witness with searching questions about
-solitary visits to imprisoned giant, here in Old Bailey; and though
-the military widow makes wrathful repudiation, this thin-ice skating
-exhibition sinks deep into the pious souls of the virtuous twelve. A
-wicked profligate also, think they, is this cruel red Irishman!
-
-Mary Faulkner, gunner’s wife, comes next, and says similar things, and
-more; she even heard the men discuss the killing of Governor Wall. Her
-husband, gunner Faulkner, corroborates. Agrees with the two last that
-Armstrong was mutinous and threatening. Admits, however, he had little
-trial. Great excitement among Crown counsel, and learned Plumer presses
-the point. “Very little trial” is the conclusion sought, and Caledonian
-pencil records it. No matter that consistent Law has laid it down
-that if there was a mutiny he will not press for proof of elaborate
-court-martial. A prisoners witness has scored a point for the other
-side, and they record it--“Scarcely any trial at all.”
-
-What matters the rest, while the prim Scotsman, in full-bottomed wig,
-brandishes his pencil! Peter Williams, soldier, endorses all said by
-women Lacy and Faulkner, but clever Plumer shows him up, on the word
-of an officer, as “a lying, shuffling fellow.” Private Charles Timbs
-swears that ‘cats’ were all destroyed by the men, but no one heeds
-him. Deputy-Advocate Oldham instructs the tribunal that drum-head
-court-martials are never reported to Government Department. Thus, why
-should Wall report his small explosion to Secretary Townshend, why----?
-But what does this signify in face of what Law had laid down--“Never
-mind trial! Can prisoner prove the mutiny?” No need to press Deputy
-Oldham, for there is no chance of scoring another point at the expense
-of prisoner’s witness.
-
-Then arrives the great and proper time. The pencil has done its
-work, and Caledonian tongue now speaks, and Caledonian lip, having
-arrived at full tension, trembles. Important comments are delivered--a
-general ripping-up of the Wall witnesses. Chief Baron reads the
-report to Secretary Townshend, and adds footnote: “No mention of
-mutiny”--suspicious. Again: “Two officers returned from Goree at same
-time as the Governor. This,” he echoes Law-logic, “does not indicate
-existence of mutiny.” Further: “Prisoner made his escape when all
-witnesses who could prove his innocence were alive”--still more
-suspicious. Twelve good and honest brows grow still darker and more
-vengeful. The rope-ending is contrasted with the birching of children;
-marvellous parallel--as though the maternal heart bore resemblance
-to the provisions of Mutiny Acts! Back-slapping of leech-Ferrick
-is long and loud. “Be careful not to hurt a toss-pot,” declares
-the Lord-of-Isles, “for if he drinks himself to death, you are his
-murderer!” Wonderful Caledonian pencil that is able to out-logic
-wonderful Law.
-
-It is ten o’clock at night. For thirteen hours the unfortunate twelve
-have been box-fast. Within twelve honest waistcoats lies a dull and
-aching vacuum. The Laws, Plumers, and Lords-of-Isles have similar
-sensations, in spite of the adjournment-gorge in an upper chamber.
-Yet, when they retire, the good tradesmen debate this military cause
-sedulously for the space of sixty minutes. They have sons and brothers
-in the army, and doubtless much suppressed eloquence to explode. At
-last, an hour before midnight, they return into Court, faces stern and
-dark. The deaf giant receives the verdict with a start of surprise, but
-without tremor of limb. To him the proceedings have been a long, dreary
-mumble, and he longs for repose. In good set terms, for the benefit of
-reporters and the junior bar, the Recorder passes sentence, and, as the
-curtain falls, the gaol-bird mob outside growls forth its plaudits.
-
-Till Friday morning, only thirty-two hours, has been allowed the
-prisoner to prepare for death. Before trial, Keeper Kirby had given him
-a spacious and comfortable room, but a cell in the Press Yard wing must
-now be his portion. With a cry of impotent rage the weary giant flings
-himself upon his bed, and declares he will not rise till the fatal
-hour. During the black winter night the felons in other cells hear
-his voice, for the poor crushed giant is singing hymns to his Maker.
-Next day there is much wear and tear of good cloth in the seats of the
-mighty. Government officials sit long over case, and a respite till the
-Monday following is the result of their labours. The love of the noble
-and devoted wife, given long ago to him whom she knew as one of the
-world’s pariahs, shines brighter and more beautiful amidst the dreadful
-darkness, and she toils without ceasing for a reprieve. All the
-influence of Clan Mackenzie--such as it be--is summoned to the aid of
-the condemned soldier, for the second daughter of the house had married
-Henry Howard, and their kinsman, his scapegrace of Norfolk, is induced
-to take up the cudgels on behalf of the chained giant. Unfortunately,
-the senior peer is not a favourite at headquarters. Still, Secretary
-Pelham gives heed so far as to send down another respite to Newgate on
-Sunday eve. Wall’s hanging-day is now settled for Thursday, the 28th
-of January, and the Monday morning mob of gallows-birds howls fiercely
-when discovery is made that it has been baulked of its prey for a few
-dozen of hours; which same howls, penetrating in ministerial mind’s-ear
-to the purlieus of Whitehall, set ministerial hearts palpitating with
-apprehension. For the Pilot who weathered the Storm no longer has a
-home in Downing Street, and the hearts of ministerial successors lack
-tissue.
-
-Not all the wealth of woman’s tears can move authority to greater
-mercy on behalf of the red giant. The smug and closet-petted doctor,
-who cares naught for military matters, is bent on his French peace in
-spite of all that patron Pitt may say, and it seems a small matter to
-hang a mob-detested officer. “Soldiers a drug in the market--we are
-going to be friends with the good Buonaparte,” think Farmer George
-and his Council when they confabulate on Wednesday afternoon. The
-Caledonian pencil-notes are consulted, and cobwebs gather fast around
-the bewildered royal brain. Kingly thoughts dwell lovingly upon the
-royal prerogative of the gallows--a truly English pastime, worthy of
-a British prince whose blood has run itself clear of all Hanoverian
-coagulations. Chancellor Eldon, being interrogated, finds his load of
-learned lumber ill-digested for the moment, and doubts, and doubts, and
-doubts. Then some brave and discreet statesman--oblivion shrouds his
-illustrious name--mentions the mutineers of the ‘Fighting Téméraire’
-a dozen or so of whom a few days before had ornamented the yard-arms
-at Spithead, and King and Council ponder deeply. Newgate howls have
-been ominous, Newgate cries have been eloquent, and the time-honoured
-platitude, “One law for rich, another law for poor,” has often ended in
-window--sometimes royal window--smashing. Mercy seems a great risk,
-far greater because of the ‘Téméraire’ yard-arm business than the
-unpopular pardon of Kenneth Mackenzie. On the other side there is the
-alluring picture of the great triumph of British equity--the balance
-of justice--‘Téméraire’ rebels hanging on one side of the scale, and
-mob-hated Joseph Wall on the other. “Foreign nations please observe and
-copy!” A notable triumph for an English-born German prince. Like the
-peace that was to be, it seemed an experiment worth the while. Farmer
-George and Doctor Henry prove to have most forcible willpower in the
-Council, and when his Gracious Majesty posts off to Windsor at five
-o’clock, to drink tea with his Princesses, the Governor of Goree has
-been left for execution.
-
-In the condemned cell that same evening the devoted wife and husband
-hope still for the reprieve that never comes. Keeper Kirby has promised
-the grief-stricken woman that she shall remain in the gaol till the
-last possible moment, and while the clock slowly beats its march to the
-hour of eleven the heart-rending tragedy unfolds its agonies.
-
-“God bless you, my dear,” cries the giant in their last embrace. “Take
-care of the children. Let them think as well of me as you can.”
-
-Then, while the Governor of the prison escorts the poor lady along the
-cold, dark corridors, she sobs forth her one piteous question for the
-hundredth time:
-
-“Is there no hope?”
-
-“Madam, I trust your wishes may be fulfilled,” replies Kirby. “But it
-is now a late hour, and I have received no orders.”
-
-Sister Howard, who also has borne this terrible vigil, supports the
-fainting woman from the portals of the charnel-house, and their
-carriage rumbles away over the stones of Old Bailey. Even these loving
-friends have failed him, and the red giant must bear his last dismal
-journey alone. Two turnkeys watch over him, lest he may do himself
-injury, for he wears no fetters.
-
-“It is a long night,” he exclaims about two o’clock, as he tosses
-wearily upon his couch.
-
-Still, his voice is strong and resonant with its military 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 since the
-sentence, and Sheriff Cox, although assiduous in his visits to the
-unhappy man, will not relax his stern rules. In a little while, as if
-he looked for sleep, he asks whether the scaffold will make a noise
-when it is dragged out into the street. With compassionate lie, they
-answer that it will not, but his thoughts dwell morbidly upon his
-destiny.
-
-“I most earnestly request,” he tells his attendants, “that I may not be
-pulled by the heels when I am suffering.”
-
-They attempt to appease him by the promise that it shall be done as
-he wishes, but he has seen hangings in plenty, and he knows what may
-happen.
-
-“I hope that the fatal cord may be placed properly,” he persists, “and
-that I may be allowed to depart as fairly and easily as my sentence
-will allow.”
-
-At last he falls asleep, and when the huge wooden machine lumbers
-between the prison doors with a sound that reverberates through the
-whole building, he is unconscious of what has happened. Also, it is not
-recorded that he heard the dread chaunt of the bellman outside in the
-Old Bailey:
-
- “You that in the condemned hole do lie,
- Prepare you, for to-morrow you shall die;
- Watch all, and pray, the hour is drawing near,
- That you before the Almighty must appear.”
-
-About half-past five he awakes with a start as a mail-coach rumbles
-along Newgate Street.
-
-“Is that the scaffold?” he demands, and they tell him no.
-
-Once more he makes anxious inquiries about the methods of the hangman,
-and they satisfy him as well as they can. Shortly before seven he is
-led to the day-room of the Press Yard, where he is joined by Ordinary
-Forde, who, robed in full canonicals, with a great nosegay beneath
-his chin, seems prepared for a wedding day. A fire is smouldering on
-the hearth, and a nauseating smell of green twigs fills the chill
-stone chamber. Gaunt and terrible is the aspect of the red, untamable
-giant, who is meek and penitent, but with soul still unbowed. A yellow
-parchment-like texture is drawn tightly over his sunken features, and
-through their hollow sockets the piercing eyes shine as though in
-ghastly reflection to the glance of death--not the triumphant glitter
-thrown back by Death Magnificent, but the stony, frightful stare
-imparted by the Medusa of Shame. A suit of threads and patches hangs
-loosely upon his emaciated limbs--an old brown coat, swansdown vest,
-and blue pantaloons--a sorry garb for one who has worn a colonel’s
-uniform in his Majesty’s army. For a moment his piercing gaze falls
-upon Ordinary Forde.
-
-“Is the morning fine?” is the strange, eager question. “Time hangs
-heavily,” the hollow far-away voice continues. “I am anxious for the
-close of this scene.”
-
-As if in response to the wish, Jack Ketch’s lackey, a dwarf with face
-of a demon, draws near with his cords and binds the giant’s wrists.
-
-“You have tied me very tight,” is the weary complaint.
-
-“Loosen the knot,” commands absolute Forde, and the sulky wretch obeys
-with low mutterings.
-
-“Thank you, sir,” murmurs the giant. “It is of little moment.” The
-green twigs upon the hearth crackle in a shower of sparks up the wide
-chimney, and a shovelful of coals is thrown upon the burning mass.
-Death’s piercing glitter flashes from the eyes of the dying man while
-his brain paints pictures in the flames. Then his lips move slowly:
-
-“Ay, in an hour that will be a blazing fire.”
-
-Ay, and you are thinking that in an hour, you poor, red, untamable
-giant will have finished your long torture, and be lying cold and
-still--while that fire blazes merrily. In an hour one loving,
-great-hearted woman will have entered upon the agony-penance that she
-must endure to the grave. In an hour your little ones will be children
-of a father upon whom his country has seared the brand of infamy--and
-these green twigs will have become a blazing fire! Sad--yea, saddest of
-words that could fall from human lips!
-
-Then the demon of suspense torments the poor giant once again, and he
-turns to the Ordinary appealingly:
-
-“Do tell me, sir--I am informed that I shall go down with great force;
-is that so?”
-
-Ordinary’s thoughts cease for a moment to dwell lovingly upon his
-breakfast-gorge with the Sheriff--the epilogue to every hanging--and
-professional pride swells his portly soul. With reverent unction he
-explains the machinery of the gallows, speaking of ‘nooses and knots’
-with all the mastery of expert, for Jim Botting and his second fiddle
-‘Old Cheese’ are no better handicraftsmen than Ordinary hangman Forde.
-Presently he in his turn grows curious.
-
-“Colonel Wall,” he inquires, “what kind of men were those under you at
-Goree?”
-
-The haunting glance of death-shame fades from the piercing eyes, and
-through the portholes of his soul there flashes the living spirit of
-defiance.
-
-“Sir,” he cries, “they sent me the very riff-raff!”
-
-Suddenly the reverend Ordinary bethinks himself of his holy office,
-and plunges headlong into prayer; a contrast that must compel the
-tear of recording angel--smoke-reeking, unctuous, ale-fed Forde and
-contrite, half-starved, but invincible giant. Sheriff Cox and his
-myrmidons enter as the clock is striking eight. A look of eagerness
-passes over the cadaverous lineaments, a gaunt figure steps forward,
-and a firm, hollow voice murmurs:
-
-“I attend you, sir.”
-
-Although his head is bowed, his tread is that of the soldier on
-parade as they pass out into the keen winter air. A crowd of felons,
-destined soon for the gallows, is huddled in groups, here and there,
-within their courtyard den, and as the procession passes through the
-quadrangle they hurl forth curses of hell against the man who is
-marching to his death. The giant head falls lower, and the martial
-tread beats faster. “The clock has struck,” he cries, as he quickens
-his step. There is a halt in another chamber beyond the Press Yard. An
-ingenious law-torment is demanded--the Sheriff’s receipt for a living
-corpse. A legal wrangle follows; the red giant’s body is not described
-in good set terms, and there is much quill-scratching, while the giant
-gazes calmly. Then the march is resumed down the loathsome passages,
-and the soul of Greatheart warms as eternity draws nearer.
-
-In another moment, the most wondrous prospect of his life opens before
-his eyes. High upon the stage, with back turned to the towering wall,
-as befits a soldier, his vision ranges over a tossing sea of savage
-faces, a human torrent that fills the wide estuary, surging full and
-fierce to the limits of its boundaries. Then a mighty tumult rises
-from the depths of the living whirlpool, the exultant roar of a
-myriad demons thirsting for blood. At last the giant limbs tremble,
-as the shouts swell fiercer and louder still--three distinct terrific
-huzzas--unmistakable to trained ears; they come from the angry throats
-of a thousand British soldiers, the fierce war-cry learnt from the
-cruel Cossack long ago. The red tyrant is delivered to the mob at last.
-Some say it is the shout of punters delighted to have won their bets,
-and loudly press the strange apology; but reason, giving preference to
-comparative methods, calls to mind the savage exultation that hailed
-the atonement of skipper Lowry and Mother Brownrigg, of Burke and
-Palmer, and muses thoughtfully upon this balance of justice.
-
-The gnarled, bony fingers of the red giant grasp the hand of Sheriff
-Cox, while the foul-odoured beast fumbles with the halter around his
-neck, withdrawing the noose and slipping it once more over his head.
-The victim turns to the plump Ordinary 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 he is a murderer, and this blessed torture is not for
-those of his class. The bareheaded crowd gazes with rapture upon the
-wooden scaffold, shorn of its appalling garb of black--another mercy
-vouchsafed to him who dies guilty of a brother’s blood. Suddenly there
-is a second mighty shout of triumph. The rope hangs plump between the
-two posts, and the tall, gaunt form is swaying in empty air. In another
-moment there are cries of horror, but of horror mingled with applause.
-The noose has formed an even collar around the giant’s neck, while the
-knot has slipped to the back of his head, which is still upright and
-unbent. Horrible convulsions seize the huge, struggling frame. It is a
-terrific scene--most glorious spectacle of suffering that a delighted
-crowd has ever gazed upon--Jack Ketch has bungled! Minutes pass, and
-still the hanging man battles fiercely for breath. Minutes pass, and
-not a hand is stretched forth to give him relief. Sheriff’s eyes meet
-eyes of Ordinary in mutual horror. Sheriff’s watch is dragged from its
-fob, and when the little steel hands have stretched to a right angle,
-at last a hasty signal is made to the expectant hangman. Two butchers
-beneath the scaffold seize upon the sufferer’s legs, and soon his agony
-of more than a fourth of an hour is brought to a close. A fierce shock,
-indeed, to reason and the balance of justice argument--a fiercer shock
-still to those that cling lovingly to the tenets of Hebrew mythology.
-
-With a sigh of relief Sheriff and Ordinary hurry away to coffee and
-grilled kidneys in Mr Kirby’s breakfast-room, leaving the crowd to
-watch the victim hanging--which crowd does with gusto, scrambling
-fiercely a little later for a bit of the rope, which Rosy Emma,
-worthy helpmate of Jack Ketch, retails at twelvepence an inch, and,
-furthermore, gloating with delight upon the cart that presently takes
-the wasted form of the dead giant to the saws and cleavers of Surgeons’
-Hall dissecting-room, Saffron Hill. Tight hands at a bargain, these
-bloodletting, clyster-loving old leeches! They demand fifty, some say a
-hundred, guineas from the giant’s friends, and they pocket the ransom
-before they surrender their corpse. Devoted old leeches: _sic vos non
-vobis_--we are the learned legatees of your dabblings in anatomy. A
-few days later--it is a Thursday morning, numbered the 4th of February
-in the calendar--a few merciful friends bear the giant’s coffin to a
-resting-place in St Pancras Churchyard. Epitaph does not appear, for
-cant refuses to superscribe the true one--“England did not expect him
-to do his duty!”
-
-As we look back upon the glowing perspective of our history, there are
-few scenes that stand out in fiercer grandeur than the flogging of
-Goree. Foul-smelling, Lilliputian picture, it shines, nevertheless,
-with the same unconquerable spirit of genius that clapped a telescope
-to the blind eye at Copenhagen. One untamable hero, armed merely with
-a crimson rope, faces a hundred cut-throats, and, within view of the
-ramparts of the enemy, cows them into licking his shoes, declaring
-that an insult to himself is an insult to his King. Truly a David and
-Goliath picture.
-
-“Wrong,” cry Farmer George and Doctor Henry, glancing timidly, as with
-mystical prescience, down the vista of ages to Board School days, and
-quaking at swish of cat and clank of triangles, guilty of as deep
-anachronism as he who hurled a shell at the tomb of the Mahdi, to
-the great disturbance of bread-and-milk nerves. For birch twigs and
-cat--essential forerunners of Standards Six--had much Peninsular and
-Waterloo work in front of them, and it was just as easy to chain red
-giants as to hang them.
-
-“Wrong,” cry Farmer Merciful and Doctor Justice, busy with knife and
-steel, getting ready a keen edge for the grey, gallant head of poor
-crazy Despard, and eager to paste the town with balance of justice
-placards--“‘Téméraire’ insubordinates, and red giant of Goree--both
-hanged. Let foreign nations please copy.” And, doubtless, a burst of
-inordinate Gallic laughter hailed this _jeu d’esprit_, for Gallic
-neighbours had other things for the encouragement of red giants--a
-field-marshal’s baton and the like.
-
-There is no place for the musings of modern milksop. The deeds of the
-parents of his grandfather are for him merely a tale that is told, and
-as he closes the family record his bread-and-milk soul must only give
-thanks that his lot is cast in more pleasant places. Modern eye can
-but discern the red giants of a bygone world through a glass darkly.
-Cruel, crimson, unscrupulous--they were all that: children of murkiness
-even as we are children of light, and thus let comparison end. One
-hundred years--as great a barrier as a million miles of ether--has
-divided our ages, _et nos mutamur_. A thousand pencils--Saxon and
-Caledonian--have banished with Dunciad scorn the birchen wand that used
-to betwig merrily the tender fifteen-year-old flesh of ribald lad and
-saucy maiden. Triangle and cat, rope’s-end and grating, ceased years
-ago to terrify the hearts of rolling Jack and swaggering Tommy. Good
-Mr Fairchild no longer takes little Harry and little Emily to view the
-carrion of the gibbet, _exempli gratiâ_, for the modern Mr Fairchild
-does not remember that such instruments ever had their proper places
-in the land. Red giants, too--only to be let loose when occasion
-required--had their proper places in the good old times of birch-rod
-and gibbet, of Farmer George and Doctor Henry, who found much use for
-them in the taming of the Corsican ogre. Modern milksop, however,
-will scarcely concede that such times were good, or, at least, most
-wrong when inconsistent! Be that as it may, the cat and rope’s-end of
-the crimson giant were a portion of Britain’s bulwarks, in spite of
-inconsistent headshakings of Farmer George and Doctor Henry, of Brother
-Bragge and Brother Hiley--all of which, fortunately, is as repulsive to
-the soul of modern milksop as the dice and women of Charles Fox, or the
-two-bottle thirst of the Pilot who weathered the Storm. Lucky, perhaps,
-for bread-and-milk gentleman that he had fathers before him.
-
-No other case bears the same resemblance to that of Joseph Wall as the
-incident of Kenneth Mackenzie and his cannon-ball execution. Some,
-indeed, have a certain affinity, and exhibit the national conscience
-overwhelmed by periodical fits of morality--a hysterical turning-over
-of new leaves. A few days before the red giant of Goree passed through
-the debtor’s door, Sir Edward Hamilton of the ‘Trent’ frigate was
-dismissed from the navy for an act of cruel tyranny, only to be
-reinstated in a few months. Thomas Picton, England’s “bravest of the
-brave,” was shaken by the same wave of humanity. Yet, after all, the
-guilt of the Admiral or the innocence of the hero of Waterloo were
-of little moment to a nation that continued to mutilate its enemies
-in the fashion of a dervish of the desert, under the sacred name of
-high treason. For, years later, the bloody heads of Brandreth and
-Thistlewood stained an English scaffold. Luckily for their oppressors,
-the victims of Hamilton and Picton--officers who did not stand in
-the desperate position of the Governor of Goree--survived their
-punishments, not having a leech-Ferrick to reckon with, else Farmer
-George and Doctor Henry, in the face of those dangling ‘Téméraire’
-seamen, would have been in an awkward dilemma.
-
-The case of George Robert Fitzgerald, often held forth as a parallel
-by contemporary pressmen, has little similarity to that of Wall. Both
-belonged to the 69th Foot, they were antagonists in a Galway duel in
-’69, and both ended their days on the scaffold; but here comparison
-ends. The retribution that overtook ‘Fighting Fitzgerald’ at Castlebar
-was the fitting penalty of a vendetta murder, brutal and premeditated,
-and wrought without a semblance of authority.
-
-Fifty years before the death of Joseph Wall, the London mob was able
-to indulge its fury in like fashion against another black-beast of its
-own choosing, one James Lowry, skipper of the merchant ship ‘Molly’
-compared to whom the Governor of Goree appears to have been a mild
-and merciful commander. At different times, three sailors expired
-beneath the terrible floggings of Captain Lowry, who was wont to
-salute his dying victim with the cry, “He is only shamming Abraham.”
-And as the cruel seaman was carried in the cart to Execution Dock, the
-furious mob howled forth this ghastly catchword, just as they saluted
-Wall with the echo of the phrase which they supposed he had uttered
-while Benjamim Armstrong was being flogged to death, “Cut him to the
-heart--cut him to the liver.”
-
-Nor was the cruel tyrant only to be found in the merchantman, or
-was Edward Hamilton a solitary exception. Captain Oakham of the
-British navy is more than a creature of fiction, as is shown by the
-trials of Edward Harvey in August 1742, and of William Henry Turton
-in August 1780, which cast a lurid light upon the conditions of
-life in our ships of war. Midshipman Turton was a butcherly young
-gentleman, who turned his sword against a disobedient sailor in a sort
-of Captain-Sutherland-and-negro-cabin-boy fashion, but, owing to a
-Maidstone grand-jury petition and the absence of ‘Téméraire’ mutineers,
-there was no hempen collar for him.
-
-The story of Joseph Wall has no exact parallel in our history, for
-the Mackenzie incident differs in two essential particulars--the dour
-Kenneth meant murder from the first, and did not pay the penalty of
-his crime. Lowry, Turton, and Sutherland were guilty, like ‘Fighting
-Fitzgerald,’ of common homicide, and the _malice prepense_, as
-law-givers understand the phrase, was clear and unmistakable. Even the
-lax morality of Doctor Henry’s days was compelled to take cognisance
-of giant Wall’s offence, just as it punished very properly--or tried
-to do--the sins of Picton and Hamilton; and a verdict of manslaughter,
-though delivered by a tradesman jury, would not have been an illogical
-conclusion. However, it remains a judicial murder--one of the most
-disgraceful that stains the pages of our history during the reign of
-George III.
-
-
-
-
-BIBLIOGRAPHY OF THE WALL CASE
-
-
-I. CONTEMPORARY TRACTS
-
-1. _An Authentic Narrative of Joseph Wall Esqr._ By a Military
-Gentleman. J. Roach, Britannia Printing Office. Russell Court, Drury
-Lane (1802). Brit. Mus.
-
- Except in the tract published by A. Young--a transparent
- plagiarism--there is no corroboration of the statement that
- Wall flogged to death a man named Paterson on the voyage out to
- Goree. As no reference is made in any contemporary newspapers,
- it seems probable that the ‘Military Gentleman’ has confused
- his materials. George Paterson, a soldier, received eight
- hundred lashes the day after the punishment of Armstrong, and
- died soon afterwards, which may have caused the mistake. If
- Wall had done another such deed in 1780, it is probable that it
- would have obtained greater publicity.
-
-2. _The Life, Trial and Execution of Joseph Wall Esqre._ By a
-Gentleman. A. Young, Vera Street, Clare Market (1802). Brit. Mus.
-
-3. _The Trial at Large of Joseph Wall Esqre._ Also an Account of his
-escape in 1784. John Fairburn, 146 Minories.
-
-4. _The Trial of Lieut. Col. Joseph Wall._ Taken in shorthand by Messrs
-Blanchard and Ramsey. London (1802). Brit. Mus.
-
-5. _Life, Trial and Execution of Joseph Wall Esqre._ (with a full
-length portrait). E. Lawrence, C. Chapple, and H. D. Symonds.
-
- This tract is advertised in the _Morning Chronicle_, February 9, 1802.
-
-6. _The Trial of Governor Wall._ With particulars of his escape at
-Reading in 1784 and his subsequent surrender in 1802. Fred Farrah,
-282 Strand, (The Only Edition Extant). Brit. Mus. Copied from earlier
-accounts.
-
-
-II. CONTEMPORARY NEWSPAPERS AND MAGAZINES
-
-
- 1. _The Public Advertiser_, March 1784.
-
- 2. _The Gazetteer and New Advertiser_, August 14, 1783, and March
- 1784.
-
- 3. _The General Evening Post_, March 1784.
-
- 4. _The Bath Chronicle_, do.
-
- 5. _The Bristol Journal_, do.
-
- 6. _The London Gazette_, March 9, 1784.
-
- 7. _The Times_, March 1784, January 1802.
-
- 8. _Morning Post_, July 21 and August 12 and 13, 1783, March 1784,
- January 1802.
-
- 9. _Morning Chronicle_, March 1784, January 1802.
-
- 10. _Morning Herald_, do. do.
-
- 11. _St James’ Chronicle_, do. do.
-
- 12. _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, do.
-
- 13. _The True Briton and Porcupine_, do.
-
- 14. _The Star_, do.
-
- In the _Morning Post_ of August 13, 1783, there appears the
- report of the court-martial held at the Horse Guards on July
- 7 and following days, which practically acquitted Wall of the
- charges brought against him by Captain Roberts. The _Gazette_
- of March 9, 1784, contains the King’s Proclamation, dated March
- 8, describing the personal appearance of the escaped prisoner,
- and offering a reward of £200 for his apprehension. To those
- who consult contemporary journals for a first time there will
- come a surprise, for they will learn that Governor Wall on July
- 10 and 11, 1782, flogged to death not _one_ man but _three_.
- No account later than the Espriella Papers, and not one of
- the many _Newgate Calendars_, gives this information. Surgeon
- Ferrick’s letter appeared in _The Times_, February 5, 1802.
-
-15. _The Gentleman’s Magazine_ (1784), part i. p. 227; (1802), part i.
-p. 81.
-
- The January number, 1802, endorses the statement that Augustine
- Wall, the brother of the Governor of Goree, was “the first
- person, who presumed to publish Parliamentary Reports with
- the real names of the speakers prefixed.” This evidence
- is important, as Sylvanus Urban might have grudged such
- an admission. His own claims, however, are set forth very
- modestly. “Dr Johnston (in our magazine) dressed them (_i.e._
- the speakers in Parliament) in Roman characters. Others gave
- them as orators in the senate of Lilliput. Mr Wall laid the
- foundation of a practice which, we trust for the sake of
- Parliament, and the nation, will never be abandoned.”
-
-16. _The European Magazine_ (1802), pp. 74, 154-157.
-
-17. _The Annual Register._ Appendix to Chronicle, pp. 560-568.
-
-
-NOTES
-
-NOTE I.--_Dict. Nat. Biog._
-
- Although reference is made to the dubious case of the flogging
- of the man Paterson during Wall’s outward voyage to Goree,
- there is no mention of the fact that four other soldiers were
- flogged by the Governor’s order on the same day and the day
- following the punishment of Benj. Armstrong, and that two of
- these also died of their wounds. There seems to be no authority
- for the statement that Wall “appears to have been in liquor”
- when he passed sentence on the men, and as such a presumption,
- which was never put forward by the prosecution, sweeps away
- all defence, and proves that the act was murder, it should not
- be accepted without the most trustworthy evidence. Mrs Wall’s
- father, Kenneth Mackenzie, Lord Fortrose, never became Lord
- Seaforth; her brother did. Since Wall did not remain at Goree
- for more than two years, and left the island on July 11, 1782,
- it is evident that he did not become Governor in 1779. His
- letter to Lord Pelham, offering to stand his trial, was written
- on October 5, 1801, not on October 28. _State Trials_, vol.
- xxviii. p. 99.
-
-NOTE II.--_State Trials of the Nineteenth Century._ By G. Latham Brown
-(Sampson Low, 1882). Vol. i. pp. 28-42.
-
- On page 31 the author states that he has searched the records
- of the Privy Council in vain for a report of the charges
- brought against Wall by Captain Roberts in 1783. As stated
- previously, he would have found what he required in the columns
- of the _Morning Post_ of August 13, or the _Gazetteer_, August
- 14, 1783. It is strange that he is unaware that Wall flogged to
- death two other soldiers besides Benj. Armstrong.
-
-NOTE III.--_Edinburgh Review_, January 1883, _vide_ criticism of G. L.
-Brown’s book, p. 81.
-
- To the writer of this review belongs the credit of being the
- first to hint a doubt as to the justice of Wall’s conviction.
-
-NOTE IV.--_A Tale without a Name_--a tribute to Joseph Wall’s noble
-wife--will be found in the works of James Montgomery, Longman (1841),
-vol. iii. p. 278. _Vide_ also _Life of Montgomery_, by Holland and
-Everett. Longman (1855), vol. iii. p. 253.
-
-NOTE V.--Other contemporary authorities are _Letters from England by
-Don Alvarez Espriella_, Robert Southey, vol. i. pp. 97, 108, and the
-familiar _Book for a Rainy Day_, by J. T. Smith, pp. 165-173.
-
-
-
-
-THE KESWICK IMPOSTOR
-
-THE CASE OF JOHN HADFIELD, 1802-3
-
-
- “... a story drawn
- From our own ground,--the Maid of Buttermere,--
- And how, unfaithful to a virtuous wife
- Deserted and deceived, the Spoiler came,
- And woo’d the artless daughter of the hills,
- And wedded her, in cruel mockery
- Of love and marriage bonds....
- Beside the mountain chapel, sleeps in earth
- Her new-born infant....
- ... Happy are they both,
- Mother and child!...”
-
- --_The Prelude_, Book vii. WORDSWORTH.
-
-
-During the late autumn of 1792, a retired military man of amiable
-disposition and poetic temperament, who had made a recent tour through
-Cumberland and Westmoreland, published his impressions in a small
-volume which bore the title _A Fortnight’s Ramble to the Lakes_.
-The book displays the literary stamp of its period just as clearly
-as a coin indicates the reign in which it is moulded. Fashion had
-banished the rigour of the pedant in favour of idyllic simplicity. The
-well-groomed poet, who for so long had recited his marble-work epistle
-to Belinda of satin brocade, now spoke to deaf ears; while the unkempt
-bard, who sang a ballad of some muslin-clad rustic maid, caught the
-newly-awakened sympathies of the artistic world.
-
-[Illustration: _Etched by J. Chapman_
-
-JOHN HATFIELD.
-
-_Published J. Cundee Ivy Lane_]
-
-The author of _A Fortnight’s Ramble_, having the instinct of a good
-literary salesman, was not backward in sentiment, and among his
-thumb-nail sketches of rural life he was careful not to omit the
-portrait of a village damsel. There is certainly much charm in the
-impression of his humble heroine, whom he discovered in a tiny hamlet
-on the shores of Lake Buttermere, where, according to the laws of
-romance, she was the maid of the inn. No doubt the child of fourteen
-was as beautiful as he describes her--with her long brown curls, big
-blue eyes, rosy lips, and clear complexion, and with a grace of figure
-matured beyond her years. The pity is that the picture was ever drawn.
-
-Before the close of the year the charms of ‘Sally of Buttermere’ had
-been quoted in a London magazine, and henceforth the tourist was as
-eager to catch a glimpse of the famous young beauty as to visit Scale
-Force or Lodore. Very soon the inn where she lived--“a poor little
-pot-house, with the sign of the Char”--became a place of popular
-resort. Verses in her praise began to cover the white-washed walls; and
-while she was in the full bloom of youth, wandering artists, who have
-handed down to us her likeness, took the opportunity of persuading her
-to sit for them. That Mary Robinson was a modest and attractive girl
-is shown by the testimony of Wordsworth and Coleridge, and there is
-evidence that she remained unspoilt in spite of her celebrity.
-
-Six years after the publication of _A Fortnight’s Ramble_, its author,
-Joseph Budworth, paid a second visit to the home of his ‘Sally of
-Buttermere’ Mary, who was nineteen, and still charming, seemed destined
-(after the fashion of village maidens) to become a buxom beauty, and it
-is said, indeed, that she had been most lovely at the age of sixteen.
-Budworth, however, saw that she was quite pretty enough to attract
-hosts of admirers, and conscience told him that he had not done well
-in making her famous. There was Christmas merrymaking at the little
-inn, and she reigned as queen of the rustic ball. Next morning he
-confessed to her that he had written the book which had brought her
-into public notice.
-
-“Strangers will come and have come,” said he, “purposely to see you,
-and some of them with very bad intentions. We hope you will never
-suffer from them, but never cease to be on your guard.”
-
-Mary listened quietly to this tardy advice, and thanked him politely.
-
-“You really are not so handsome as you promised to be,” Budworth
-continued. “I have long wished by conversation like this to do away
-what mischief the flattering character I gave of you may expose you to.
-Be merry and wise.”
-
-Then, taking advantage of his seniority of twenty-three years, the
-good-natured traveller “gave her a hearty salute,” and bade her
-farewell. Unfortunately, he repeated his previous indiscretion by
-publishing another long account of the Buttermere Beauty in the
-_Gentleman’s Magazine_, and, like Wordsworth, who in similar manner
-paraded the charms of ‘little Barbara Lewthwaite’ he lived to regret
-what he had written.
-
-Two years later, a handsome middle-aged gentleman of fine presence
-and gallant manners paid a visit to the Lake District, bearing the
-name of Alexander Augustus Hope (brother to the third Earl Hopetoun),
-who, after a successful military career, had represented the burgh of
-Dumfries, and now sat in Parliament as member for Linlithgowshire. An
-active, strong-limbed fellow, with courtly demeanour and an insinuating
-Irish brogue, the contrast between his thick black brows and his fair
-hair, between the patch of grey over his right temple and the fresh
-colour of his face, added to an appearance of singular attractiveness.
-These were the days of the dandies, when young Mr George Brummell was
-teaching the Prince of Wales how a gentleman should be attired; and
-Colonel Hope was distinguished by the neatness and simplicity of a
-well-dressed man of fashion.
-
-The new-comer reached Keswick about the third week in July, travelling
-in his own carriage without ostentation, having hired horses and
-no servant. Soon after his arrival he went over to Buttermere, and
-remained there for two or three days. Towards the end of the month he
-visited Grassmere, where he became acquainted with a genial merchant
-from Liverpool, whose name was John Crump. Being a most entertaining
-companion--for he was a great traveller, had fought in the American
-War, and, as might be expected of one so gallant and handsome, had been
-engaged in numerous duels--Colonel Hope had the knack of fascinating
-all whom he met. With Mr Crump, who for some reason was not in favour
-with the young poet at Greta Hall, he struck up a great friendship
-during his three weeks’ stay at Grassmere, and a little later the
-merchant showed his appreciation by christening one of his children
-‘Augustus Hope’ as a compliment to his new acquaintance.
-
-About the end of the third week in August the member of Parliament,
-whose passion, we are told, was a rod and fly, left Grassmere, and, for
-the sake of the char-fishing, took up his quarters at the little inn at
-Buttermere. So pleased was he with the district, that he contemplated
-the purchase of an estate, and Mr Skelton, a neighbouring landowner,
-went with him to inspect a property near Loweswater. During his sojourn
-at the Char Inn he paid frequent visits to Keswick to meet his friend
-John Crump. Although wishing, for the sake of quiet and seclusion,
-to travel incognito, Colonel Hope seems to have been a gregarious
-person, and could not help extending the number of his acquaintances.
-At the ‘Queen’s Head’ Keswick, where his Liverpool friend was in the
-habit of stopping, he came across a kindred spirit in Colonel Nathaniel
-Montgomery Moore, who had represented the town of Strabane in the
-recently extinct Irish Parliament.
-
-Since the two had much in common, a close intimacy ensued; but there
-was another reason for Colonel Hope’s friendly advances. A pretty young
-lady of fortune, to whom Mr Moore was guardian, was one of his party,
-and the new acquaintance began to pay her the most evident attention.
-Colonel Hope, in fact, always had been remarkable for his insinuating
-behaviour in the society of women, and since his arrival in the Lake
-District he had been concerned in an affair of gallantry with at least
-two local maidens far beneath him in station. However, this was a
-pardonable weakness, for the Prince himself, and his brothers of York
-and Clarence, did not disdain to stoop to conquer. But on the present
-occasion the gay Colonel apparently had fallen in love, and when,
-before very long, he asked the lady to be his wife, he was accepted.
-
-It is not strange that a man of his power of fascination and
-handsome appearance should have met with success even on so short an
-acquaintance. The match seemed a most suitable one in every respect,
-and Mr Moore would have been well satisfied that his ward should be
-engaged to a man of Alexander Hope’s rank and position. Yet the lover
-did not hasten to take the guardian into his confidence. Remaining at
-the little inn on the shores of Buttermere, only occasionally he made
-the fourteen miles’ drive to visit his _fiancée_ at Keswick. Colonel
-Moore, who could not remain blind to the flirtation, became anxious
-lest his ward should place herself in a false position. It was evident
-that the two behaved to each other as lovers, and the Irishman was
-impatient for the announcement of the betrothal. Still, the love affair
-ran a smooth course until the close of the third week in September;
-but as the time went on, and the engagement remained a secret, the
-suspicions of the lady’s guardian began to be aroused. Since it was
-apparent that his friend had committed himself, his duty was plain.
-There were only three explanations of his reticence. Colonel Hope
-was not the man he pretended to be, or he had quarrelled with his
-relatives, or else his passion was beginning to cool.
-
-The first proposition already had been whispered among a few. Although
-his _bonhomie_ and air of distinction had made him a great favourite
-with his inferiors, yet the fact that the reputed Colonel Hope was
-travelling without servants, and had selected a woman of fortune as
-his conquest, prejudiced critical minds. Coleridge, who was engaged in
-basting the succulent humour of the gentle Elia before a roasting fire,
-seems to have cast the eye of a sceptic upon the popular tourist from
-the day of his arrival. However, no open rupture took place between the
-Irishman and Alexander Hope, but towards the close of September they
-met less frequently.
-
-On Friday, the 1st of October, Colonel Hope sent over a letter to his
-friend at Keswick, explaining that business called him to Scotland, and
-enclosing a draft for thirty pounds, drawn on Mr Crump of Liverpool,
-which he asked him to cash. Pleased, no doubt, at this mark of
-confidence, which may have appeared a favourable augury of his ward’s
-happiness, Colonel Moore at once obeyed the request, and forwarded ten
-pounds in addition, so that his friend might not be short of funds on
-his journey. On the next day, the sensation of a lifetime burst upon
-the people of Keswick. At noon, the landlord of the ‘Queen’s Head’
-returning from the country, brought with him the great intelligence
-that the Hon. Colonel Hope had married the Beauty of Buttermere!
-
-It was obvious to everyone--aye, even to the sceptic of Greta
-Hall--that the mystery was at an end. Alexander Hope was no impostor.
-Avarice had not led him to attempt the capture of a lady of fortune.
-Torn between love and honour, he had doubted whether to give his hand
-when his heart was disposed elsewhere, or to break his word. Thus,
-obeying the impulse of love, he had married a girl of the people.
-Native pride in the Beauty of Buttermere was strong in every breast,
-and the next mail conveyed to London the news of her great triumph.
-
-But Colonel Moore, who had the right to be wroth and suspicious, would
-not be appeased by the explanations which satisfied the multitude.
-Since he could not believe that a gentleman would behave in such a
-fashion, he made haste to test the credentials of his late friend. The
-bill of exchange was forwarded to Mr Crump, who, delighted to be of
-service to Colonel Hope, from whom he had received an affectionate note
-requesting the favour, at once accepted it! Still the Irishman refused
-to be convinced, and he sent a letter to the bridegroom, informing him
-that he should write to his brother, Lord Hopetoun. Moreover, he told
-all friends of his intentions.
-
-[Illustration: _J. Smith, sculp._
-
-THE BEAUTY OF BUTTERMERE.
-
-_Published in the Act directs. June 25-1803._]
-
-During his five or six weeks’ residence at the Char Inn, the amorous
-tourist must have had full opportunity of forming a contrast between
-the Irish girl and Mary Robinson. The Beauty of Buttermere was now in
-her twenty-fifth year. A healthy outdoor life had matured her robust
-physique, and her figure, though graceful still, had lost the lines of
-perfect symmetry. The keen mountain air had robbed her complexion of
-its former delicacy, and with the advance of womanhood her features
-had not retained their refined, girlish prettiness. Still, her face
-was comely and pleasant to look upon. The charm of her kind and modest
-nature was felt by all who met her, and she seems to have possessed
-culture and distinction far in advance of her lowly station. Indeed,
-one of her most celebrated admirers hints plainly that a mystery
-surrounded her parentage, and that her breadth of mind and her polished
-manners were the result of gentle birth. However, there appears no
-warrant for such a surmise.
-
-So, at last, Colonel Hope had begun to waver in his ardour for the
-Irish girl. Naturally, she was not content to remain under a secret
-engagement, and her inclinations favoured a brilliant wedding, which
-her husband’s noble relatives should honour with their presence. Such
-delay had not pleased the lover, who wished the announcement of the
-betrothal to be followed by a speedy marriage. In this respect his
-other inamorata had been less exacting. Poor Mary expected no pomp
-or ceremony, and had never imagined that a peer and his people would
-come to her wedding. All the odium that can attach to the man who pays
-his addresses to two women at the same time is certainly his, for it
-is stated on good authority that he made his first proposal to the
-Cumberland girl before he commenced the courtship of Colonel Moore’s
-rich ward.
-
-Then, when the heiress refused to fall in with his wishes, he
-made the final choice. On the 25th of September he went over to
-Whitehaven--about twelve miles as the crow flies from Buttermere--with
-the Rev. John Nicholson, chaplain of Loweswater, a friend of two
-weeks’ standing, to obtain a special licence for his marriage with
-Mary Robinson. Naturally, no opposition was raised by the parents;
-and although it has been said that the reluctant girl was overruled
-by their persuasions, it is certain--as far as any judgment of human
-nature can be certain--that she was a willing bride. Nor--since his
-record shows that each woman whom he cared to fascinate was unable to
-resist him--is it difficult to believe that Mary was in love with her
-handsome suitor.
-
-On the morning of Saturday, the 2nd of October, the wedding took place
-in the picturesque old church at Loweswater, in the beautiful vale of
-Lorton, about seven miles from Buttermere. The ceremony was performed
-by Mr Nicholson, who had become as firm a friend of the bridegroom as
-Crump himself. Immediately after the service the newly married pair
-posted off north to visit Colonel Hope’s Scotch estate. Their first
-day’s journey was a remarkable one. Passing through Cockermouth and
-Carlisle, they reached Longtown, near Gretna Green, at eight o’clock in
-the evening, a distance of over forty miles. The next day being Sunday,
-the bridegroom, who on occasions could affect much religious zeal, is
-careful to record, in a letter to the chaplain of Loweswater, that they
-made two appearances in church. On Tuesday or Wednesday they continued
-their tour across the Border, but on the following Friday, owing
-to Mary’s anxiety to receive news from her parents (so her husband
-alleged), they retraced their steps to Longtown. Here, two days later,
-important communications reached Colonel Hope, which made him resolve
-to return to Buttermere without delay.
-
-Friend Nicholson wrote that scandalous reports concerning his honour
-had been spread in the neighbourhood since his departure, and that
-his wife’s parents had been much disturbed by the rumours that had
-reached their ears--informing him also of Colonel Moore’s opinion of
-his behaviour. This latter news was superfluous, for there was a letter
-from the Irishman himself. Its contents may be gathered from the reply
-that the traveller despatched to Nicholson on the 10th of October. With
-amazing effrontery he tells his friend that his attentions to the Irish
-heiress had never been serious, and expresses his astonishment that
-Colonel Moore should censure his conduct. Yet he shows his concern for
-the attacks on his integrity, declaring that he will come back at once
-to meet his calumniators face to face. Moreover, he was as good as his
-word. Probably he left Longtown for Carlisle, according to promise,
-the next morning, and arrived at Buttermere on Tuesday, the 12th of
-October. Thus Mary’s brief honeymoon came to an end.
-
-As luck would have it, a somewhat remarkable person, who happened to
-be acquainted with Colonel Hope, was now staying at Keswick. This was
-George Hardinge, senior justice of Brecon, the late Horace Walpole’s
-friend and neighbour, the ‘waggish Welsh judge’ of whom Lord Byron
-has sung. Having heard of the romantic marriage, and being anxious
-to meet Colonel Hope, he sent a letter to Buttermere requesting a
-visit. Early on Wednesday morning the newly married man drove over
-to Keswick in a carriage and four, accompanied by his factotum, the
-Rev. John Nicholson, to answer the summons in person. The meeting,
-which took place at the ‘Queen’s Head’ Hotel, was an embarrassing one.
-Pertinacious Nathaniel Moore, who no doubt had kindled in Justice
-Hardinge’s mind the suspicions which had caused him to solicit the
-interview, was present at the encounter. The Welsh judge found that
-Colonel Hope of Buttermere renown was an entire stranger to him!
-
-However, the other was in no way abashed, but pointed out pleasantly
-that the mistake had arisen through the coincidence of names. Mr
-Hardinge persisted that it was remarkable that he should be Alexander
-Augustus Hope, M.P. for Linlithgowshire, when the name of the
-representative of that county was Alexander Hope. The reply was a
-flat denial that these names and titles had been assumed, and we are
-told that the credulous clergyman bore witness to the truth of this
-statement. Nevertheless, other testimony against the accused man
-had more weight with the astute George Hardinge. Not only was there
-Colonel Moore’s declaration that the stranger had always passed as Lord
-Hopetoun’s brother, but the Keswick postmaster was able to prove that
-he had franked letters as a member of Parliament. The result was an
-appeal for a warrant of arrest to a neighbouring magistrate, and the
-suspected Mr Hope was placed in charge of a constable.
-
-Still, he did not appear disconcerted, but treated the whole matter as
-a joke. Others, too, were of the same opinion, for during the course
-of the day he presented a bill of exchange for twenty pounds, drawn
-once more on John Crump, to the landlord of the ‘Queen’s Head’ which
-that individual cashed without hesitation. The stranger at once sent
-£10 to Colonel Moore to cancel the gratuitous loan received before
-his departure to Scotland. Faithful Nicholson, too, retained full
-confidence in his genial friend, who ordered dinner to be prepared for
-both at the hotel, and continued to bear him company.
-
-Presently, the prisoner, chafing at the thought of being kept in
-durance, asked permission to sail on the lake. As this appeared a
-reasonable request, the wise constable gave his consent. The clergyman
-accompanied his companion to the water’s edge, while he made fervent
-protests of innocence.
-
-“If he were conscious of any crime,” he told his trusting friend, “a
-hair would hold him.”
-
-Since, however, he declared that he was guiltless, as a natural
-corollary he had no intention of being held by the whole force of the
-Keswick constabulary, and Nicholson must have been aware of his design.
-For not only did he give his friend a guinea to pay for the dinner
-at the ‘Queen’s Head’ which was a plain hint that he did not mean to
-return, but he told him that, as his carriage had been seized by his
-accusers, his only chance of rejoining his wife at Buttermere was by
-rowing down the lake.
-
-Luck favoured him. A fisherman named Burkett, who had been his
-companion on many previous expeditions, had a boat ready for him, and
-soon he was far across Derwentwater. A crowd of sympathisers, full of
-wrath against his enemies, for they were sure he was a great man (as
-an impostor would have had no motive in marrying poor Mary), stood on
-the shore with Nicholson and the intelligent constable to watch his
-departure. Soon the short October day drew to a close, and darkness
-fell upon the waters, but ‘Colonel Hope’ did not return. Keswick never
-saw his face again.
-
-The conduct of the Rev. John Nicholson has been the subject of
-keen censure. Although the province of a parson is not that of the
-detective, it is unfortunate that he did not suggest to the parents of
-Mary of Buttermere that it would be wise to verify the statements of
-their daughter’s suitor. On the other hand, it must be admitted that
-everyone was infatuated by the splendid impostor, and it is evident
-that the clergyman was not aware of the flirtation with the Irish
-heiress. It is more difficult to defend Nicholson’s conduct at the
-interview between Judge Hardinge and the swindler; for although we have
-no precise details of the conversation, it is plain that the chaplain
-of Loweswater was guilty of a strange reticence. Naturally, he knew
-that his mysterious friend had passed under the name of Colonel Hope,
-and had franked letters as a member of Parliament. Still, not only did
-he refrain from exposing, but even continued to trust him, though he
-must have perceived him to be a liar. However, charity may suggest the
-conclusion that the clergyman was full of compassion for Mary Robinson;
-and since he believed that her husband would join her at the little
-Char Inn, he was determined, whether felon or not, that he should have
-the chance of escape.
-
-The first announcement of the marriage of the celebrated Buttermere
-Beauty with the brother of the Earl of Hopetoun was printed in the
-_Morning Post_ on the 11th of October. Yet, three days later--the
-morning after the remarkable escape at Derwentwater--a letter, written
-on the highest authority, appeared in the same journal, denying the
-previous report and stating that the real Colonel Alexander Hope was
-travelling on the Continent. Thus, by chance, London and Keswick became
-aware almost simultaneously that Mary Robinson had been the victim of a
-cruel fraud.
-
-Although his flight had made it evident that the pretended member of
-Parliament was an impostor, it was not until the last day of October
-that his identity was discovered. Meanwhile, the most strange rumours
-had been aroused. The fact that all his plate and linen were found
-packed in his travelling carriage, which was retained by the landlord
-in pledge for his twenty pounds, gave rise to the suspicion that he had
-meant to desert his poor young bride. On the other hand, his admirers
-persisted that he was an Irish gentleman, hiding from the authorities
-because of his share in the recent rebellion. A costly dressing-case,
-which he had left behind, was examined under warrant from a magistrate,
-but nothing turned up to reveal his true name. In the end this
-discovery was made by Mary herself. While looking over the dressing-box
-more carefully, she disclosed a secret hiding-place containing a number
-of letters addressed to him who had forsaken her. Alas for the Beauty
-of Buttermere! No anticipation could have exceeded the cruel reality.
-The handsome bridegroom was a married man, and these letters had been
-written by the heart-broken wife whom he had deserted. ‘Colonel Hope’
-her supposed rich and noble husband, was a notorious swindler--guilty
-of a capital felony--whose real name was John Hadfield!
-
-[Illustration: _Mary of Buttermere._]
-
-Since the days of ‘Old Patch’ no impostor had reached the eminence
-of Hadfield. Born of well-to-do parents at Cradden-brook,
-Mottram-in-Longdendale, Cheshire--where a neighbouring village may have
-lent his family its surname--forty-three years before the adventure at
-Keswick, his habits and disposition had always been superior to his
-station in life. As a youth he was apprenticed to the woollen trade,
-but proved too fond of adventure to succeed in business. Though much
-of his career is wrapped in mystery, we know that he was in America
-between the years 1775-1781, during the War of Independence, and that
-he married a natural daughter of a younger brother of that famous
-warrior the Marquis of Granby.
-
-Having squandered the small fortune he had received with her, the
-elegant Hadfield left his wife and their children to take care of
-themselves, and by means of credit managed for a short time to
-enjoy a career of dissipation in London. By his favourite device of
-extortion--passing drafts or bills of exchange upon persons of wealth,
-who would be unlikely to prefer a charge against him--he was enabled to
-continue his impositions without any more serious consequence than an
-occasional visit to gaol.
-
-The King’s Bench Prison, where in 1782 he was confined for a debt
-of £160, appears as the next grim landmark in his life. By a lucky
-chance he was able to lay his case before the Duke of Rutland, who,
-having discovered that the prisoner had married a daughter of his
-late uncle, but being ignorant that the wife had died of a broken
-heart in consequence of her husband’s desertion, generously paid the
-sum necessary to obtain his release. For many years the impostor’s
-dexterity in obtaining money under false pretences from credulous
-strangers, who believed him to be a connection of the Manners family,
-made it possible for him to associate with those far above his rank.
-
-During 1784, after a brief career of fraud in Dublin, where he posed as
-a relative of the Viceroy, and by means of this falsehood contracted a
-host of fraudulent debts, he was lodged in the Marshalsea Prison. With
-unblushing impudence he appealed to the Lord Lieutenant--his previous
-benefactor, the Duke of Rutland--who agreed to pay his debts on the
-understanding that he should leave Ireland immediately.
-
-In the year 1792 Scarborough became the scene of his depredations.
-Staying at one of the principal hotels, he announced his intention of
-representing the town in Parliament in the interest of the Manners
-family. A portrait of poor Captain Lord Robert caused him to burst into
-tears, which evidence of feeling won the sympathy of all who witnessed
-it. As usual, his sparkling conversation and distinguished appearance
-disarmed suspicion, and for several weeks he lived in princely style at
-the expense of his landlord. When pressed for money he did not hesitate
-to offer bills of exchange, which the local tradesmen accepted without
-demur. Yet the day of reckoning, which this remarkable man never seemed
-to anticipate, could not be postponed. On the 25th of April he was
-arrested for the hotel debt, and, not being able to find bail, was
-cast into prison. Some weeks later, a detainer was lodged against him
-by a London creditor, and for eight years he remained an inmate of the
-Scarborough Gaol.
-
-During his long confinement he maintained his favourite pose as a
-luckless aristocrat, writing poetry, and publishing much abuse against
-the authorities. At last fortune smiled upon the interesting captive.
-Neither Faublas nor Casanova ruled with more success over the female
-heart, and it was to a woman that he owed his release. A Devonshire
-lady, named Nation, who, it is said, occupied rooms facing the
-prison, took compassion upon him, and paid his debts. On the 13th of
-September 1800 the impostor became a free man, and the next morning,
-notwithstanding that hitherto they had been strangers, he married his
-benefactress. The pair made their home at Hele Bridge, near Dulverton,
-on the borders of Somerset and Devon, where the bride’s father was
-steward to a neighbouring landowner, and before very long Hadfield
-plunged once more into a career of fraud.
-
-A marvellous _aplomb_, his previous commercial experience, and a
-deposit of £3000 which he contributed towards the firm, induced Messrs
-Dennis and Company, merchants of repute in the neighbouring town
-of Tiverton, to admit him as a partner. In consequence of this new
-enterprise, he removed during the summer of 1801 with his wife and
-child to a cottage at the village of Washfield to be near his business.
-As before, the utter lack of prescience and sagacity characteristic
-of the man prevented him from reaping the fruits of his perverted
-genius, as a less clever but more prudent would have done. The whole
-transaction was a smartly conceived but clumsily arranged swindle.
-Since the money for the partnership had been obtained by inducing a Mr
-Nucella, merchant of London, to transfer Government stock, which soon
-would have to be replaced, to the credit of Messrs Dennis, Hadfield was
-compelled to realise his winnings without delay. For the sake of a few
-hundred pounds of ready cash, he seems to have been eager to sacrifice
-all that a man usually holds dear, and to have become a lawless
-adventurer once again.
-
-In April 1802 he was obliged to decamp from Devonshire, leaving his
-wife and children as before, while his partners in Tiverton, who soon
-discovered that they had been defrauded by a swindler, proceeded
-to strike his name off the books of the firm. During the following
-June he was declared a bankrupt. Meanwhile he had proceeded to cut
-a dash in London, and it is said that he came forward as candidate
-for Queenborough, with the object of obtaining immunity from arrest
-as a member of Parliament. Being still provided with funds, he made
-no attempt to surrender to the commission issued against him; but
-compelled, through fear of exposure, to relinquish his political
-ambitions, he went on a leisurely tour through Scotland and Ireland,
-and in the month of July appeared at Keswick as ‘Colonel Hope’ to work
-the crowning mischief of his life.
-
-There has been much conjecture with regard to the motives of Hadfield
-in his conduct to poor Mary Robinson. The explanation that he was
-actuated by pure animalism cannot be reconciled with our knowledge of
-his temperament or his methods, setting aside the initial objection
-that the sensualist, already cloyed by innumerable conquests, does
-not usually play a heavy stake to gratify a passing fancy. Nor is it
-credible that a man who had the heart to forsake two wives and five
-children could have been influenced by love. At first sight it seems
-probable that, just as the most reckless speculator often cuts a
-desperate loss, he wished to quit a hazardous career of fraud, and to
-live a life of quiet and seclusion in the humble home of the Beauty of
-Buttermere. Such foresight, however, was wholly inconsistent with the
-nature of the man; and even had he been capable of this reasoning, a
-moment’s reflection must have taught him that his recent ostentation
-had made retirement impossible. No; like that of every gambler, John
-Hadfield’s destiny was ruled by chance. Each stake he played was
-determined by the exigency of the moment; win or lose, he could not
-draw back nor rest, but must follow blindly the fortunes of the day
-to cover the losses of the past. Although not able to possess his
-Irish heiress, the tiny dowry of Mary Robinson, the poor little inn
-at Buttermere, seemed to lie at his mercy, and so he seized upon it
-and threw it--as he would have thrown his winnings of any shape or
-kind--into the pool. John Hadfield was a fatalist, and his motto, _Quam
-minimum credula postero_.
-
-After the interview with Judge Hardinge, the adventurer became the
-sport of chance once more. When he took boat from Keswick on the
-evening of his clever escape, he steered his course to the southern
-extremity of Derwentwater. The cluster of little islands soon must have
-hid him from view, and no one thought of pursuit. Whatever may have
-been his impulse, there was no time to bid adieu to his bride. The path
-to safety lay far ahead over the high mountains. Having left the lake
-under the guidance of his faithful friend Burkett the fisherman, his
-course for a few miles was a comparatively easy one; but twilight must
-have fallen before he had traversed the gorge of Borrowdale, and his
-flight up the desolate Langstrath valley, which cleaves its way between
-Glaramara and Langdale Pike, was made in the darkness. By night the
-journey was a terrible one--over rocks and boulders, along a broken
-path winding its course beside the mountain torrent, up the face of
-the precipitous crags, and across the Stake, a tremendous pass high up
-in the hills, dividing northern lakeland from the south. From Langdale
-he struck west towards the coast, and after a journey of some fourteen
-miles reached the seaport of Ravenglass, on the estuary of the Esk. In
-this place he borrowed a seaman’s dress, and took refuge in a little
-sloop moored near the shore, and here he was recognised on the 25th
-of October. With a hue and cry against him, it was not safe to remain
-near the scene of his latest crime. Going by coach to Ulverstone, he
-continued his flight thence to Chester, where early in November he was
-seen at the theatre by an old acquaintance. Then he appears to have
-walked on to Northwich, and there for some time all trace of him was
-lost. An advertisement, describing his appearance and offering a reward
-of fifty pounds for his arrest, was published on the 8th of November
-and scattered broadcast over the country.
-
-The next tidings of him came from Builth in Wales, where, on the
-11th of November, he is said to have swindled a friend, who had no
-knowledge that he was the Keswick impostor, by the usual device of a
-bill of exchange. On the day following this performance, the London
-post brought the newspapers containing the description of his person,
-and he hurried away from the little town on the banks of the Wye in
-his flight towards the south. For a time he still baffled capture, but
-the pursuers steadily closed upon his track. On the 22nd of November
-the authorities at Swansea were informed that a man resembling the
-published account of the impostor had been seen in the mountains beyond
-Neath, and the next day Hadfield was run to earth at the ‘Lamb and
-Flag’ an old coaching inn about seventeen miles from the seaport town.
-At once he was lodged in Brecon Gaol, and in about a fortnight’s time
-the newspapers inform us that he was brought up to town by one Pearkes,
-robin-redbreast.
-
-The romance of the case attracted a great crowd to Bow Street when
-the notorious swindler was brought up for examination by Sir Richard
-Ford on the 6th of December, and the investigation appears to have
-been difficult and tedious, for he appeared before the magistrate each
-Monday morning during the next three weeks. On one of these occasions
-his attire is described as “respectable, though he was quite _en
-déshabillé_,” his dress being a black coat and waistcoat, fustian
-breeches, and boots, while his hair was worn tied behind without
-powder, and he was permitted to appear unfettered by irons. Among other
-requests he asked for a private room at Tothill Fields Prison, as he
-objected to herd with common pickpockets, and he desired also to be
-sent as soon as possible to Newgate. Although his wishes were not
-granted, the solicitor for his bankruptcy made him an allowance of a
-guinea a week.
-
-Most pathetic was the loyalty of the wife and benefactress whom he had
-used so cruelly. The poor woman, who was the mother of two children,
-travelled from Devonshire--a journey occupying a couple of days and a
-night--to spend Christmas Day in prison with her unfaithful husband.
-Numerous celebrities visited the court during the examination of the
-impostor. Amongst those who were noticed more than once was the Duke
-of Cumberland, drawn possibly by a fellow-feeling for the culprit,
-and Monk Lewis, on the look-out for fresh melodrama. At last all the
-charges against him were proved to the hilt--his offence against the
-law of bankruptcy, his repeated frauds on the Post Office, the two
-bills of exchange forged at Keswick. Still, although the iniquities of
-his past were fully revealed, and although a shoal of unpaid debts,
-fraudulently contracted, stood against his name, one circumstance
-alone was responsible for the great popular interest, and aroused also
-universal abhorrence. John Hadfield had been damned to everlasting fame
-as the seducer of Mary of Buttermere.
-
-The extent of his baseness was disclosed in the course of the
-proceedings at Bow Street. It was found that the poor girl was destined
-to become the mother of his child, and that he was in debt to her
-father for a sum of £180. Indeed, the motive of his mock marriage
-became apparent, for he had endeavoured to persuade the trusting
-parents to allow him to sell the little inn on their behalf, and
-possibly, but for the interference of Justice Hardinge, he might have
-succeeded. Mary refused to prosecute him for bigamy, but she was
-induced to send a letter to Sir Richard Ford, which was read in court
-at Hadfield’s fourth examination.
-
-“Sir,” she wrote, in the first agony of her cruel disenchantment, “the
-man whom I had the misfortune to marry, and who has ruined me and my
-aged and unhappy parents, always told me that he was the Honourable
-Colonel Hope, the next brother to the Earl of Hopetoun.”
-
-Contemporary newspapers show that the Beauty of Buttermere became the
-heroine of the hour--she was the theme of ballads in the streets; her
-sad story was upon every lip; never was there so much sympathy for one
-of her humble birth.
-
-Early in the new year, Hadfield, who received as much notice from
-the journals as Madame Récamier’s wonderful new bed, was committed
-to Newgate. With cool effrontery he dictated a letter to the press,
-asking the public to reserve judgment until his case was heard, and,
-as a wanton Tory newspaper declared, like Mr Fox and Mr Windham, he
-complained bitterly of misrepresentation. A long interval elapsed
-before he was sent north to stand his trial, and he did not reach
-Carlisle Gaol until the 25th of May, whither he was conveyed by an
-officer from Bow Street, who bore the appropriate name of Rivett.
-
-At the next assizes, on the 15th of August, he was arraigned before
-Sir Alexander Thomson, nicknamed the ‘Staymaker’ owing to his habit
-of checking voluble witnesses--a figure to be held in dread by
-law-breakers of the northern counties, as the Luddite riots in a few
-years were to show. Hadfield was not lucky in his judge, for the man
-who, at a later date, could be harsh enough to consign to the hangman
-the poor little cripple boy Abraham Charlson, was not likely to extend
-mercy to a forger.
-
-The prisoner stood charged upon three indictments:--
-
-(_a_) With having drawn a bill of exchange upon John Gregory Crump
-for the sum of £20, under the false and fictitious name of the Hon.
-Alexander Augustus Hope.
-
-(_b_) With having forged a bill of exchange for £30, drawn upon John
-Gregory Crump, and payable to Colonel Nathaniel Montgomery Moore.
-
-(_c_) With having defrauded the Post Office by franking letters as a
-member of Parliament.
-
-Only the first two were capital offences.
-
-James Scarlett, afterwards Baron Abinger, was counsel for the Crown,
-and Hadfield was defended by George Holroyd, who, as a judge, displayed
-masterly strength fourteen years later in directing the acquittal of
-Abraham Thornton. It is recorded by some aggrieved journalist that the
-crowd was so great it was difficult to take notes. Such odium had been
-aroused against the betrayer by the sad story of Mary of Buttermere,
-that ladies and gentlemen are said to have travelled twenty miles to
-be present at his condemnation. At eleven o’clock in the morning the
-prisoner was placed in the dock. The principal witnesses for the Crown
-were George Wood, landlord of the ‘Queen’s Head’ Keswick; the Rev. John
-Nicholson; and good-natured Mr Crump, who proved conclusively that he
-had assumed a false name and had forged a bill of exchange. A clerk in
-the house of Heathfield, Lardner and Co. (late Dennis), of Tiverton,
-called Quick, and a Colonel Parke, a friend of the real Colonel
-Alexander Hope, supplied other necessary evidence. One witness only--a
-lawyer named Newton, who had been employed by Hadfield in the summer
-of 1800 to recover an estate worth £100 a year, which he had inherited
-from his late wife--was summoned by the defence.
-
-The prisoner bore himself in a calm and dignified manner, taking
-copious notes, and offering suggestions to his counsel. But his speech
-to the jury--for still, and for many years afterwards, a barrister
-was not allowed to address the court on behalf of his client, except
-on some technical point of law--shows that he anticipated his doom.
-“I feel some degree of satisfaction,” he declared, “in having my
-sufferings terminated, as I know they must be, by your verdict. For
-the space of nine months I have been dragged from prison to prison,
-and torn from place to place, subject to all the misrepresentation of
-calumny. Whatever will be my fate, I am content. It is the award of
-justice, impartially and virtuously administered. But I will solemnly
-declare that in all transactions I never intended to defraud or injure
-those persons whose names have appeared in the prosecution. This I will
-maintain to the last of my life.”
-
-Very properly the judge would not accept the plea set up by the
-defence, that the financial position of the prisoner was a guarantee
-that no fraud had been meditated. At seven o’clock in the evening,
-after a consultation of ten minutes, the jury returned a verdict of
-guilty. Hadfield received the announcement with composure, and when he
-was brought up for sentence the next day--as was the barbarous custom
-of those times--he displayed equal coolness. Kneeling down, and looking
-steadily at the judge--who began to roll out a stream of sonorous
-platitudes--he did not speak a word.
-
-From the first he seems to have been resigned to his fate, and gave no
-trouble to his gaolers, but spent his time quietly in writing letters
-and reading the Bible. Indeed, his whole behaviour was that of one
-utterly weary of existence, and he does not appear to have desired or
-expected a reprieve. All his life he had posed as a religious man,
-and he lent an eager ear to the ministrations of two local clergymen
-who attended him. Since there is no evidence that he was penitent,
-we may adopt the more rational supposition that he was playing for
-popular sympathy. It was seldom that he spoke of himself, and the
-only reference he made to his own case was that he had never sought
-to defraud either John Crump or Colonel Moore. A contemporary report
-states that “he was in considerable distress before he received a
-supply of money from his father. Afterwards he lived in great style,
-frequently making presents to his fellow-felons. In the gaol he was
-considered as a kind of emperor, being allowed to do what he pleased,
-and no one took offence at the air of superiority which he assumed.”
-Some days before his death he sent for an undertaker to measure him for
-a coffin, and gave his instructions to the man without any signs of
-agitation.
-
-On the day of his sentence, Wordsworth and Coleridge, who were passing
-through Carlisle, sought an interview with him. While he received the
-former, as he received all who wished to see him, he denied himself
-to Coleridge, which makes it clear that he had read and resented the
-articles written by the latter to the _Morning Post_. Neither his
-father (said to have been an honest man in a small way of business) nor
-his sisters visited him. Also his faithful wife, since probably the
-state of her health or her poverty would not allow her to make the long
-journey from Devonshire to Carlisle, was unable to bid him farewell.
-
-There has been much idle gossip concerning the conduct of Mary of
-Buttermere after her betrayer was condemned to die. Some have said that
-she was overwhelmed with grief, that she supplied him with money to
-make his prison life more comfortable, and that she was dissuaded with
-difficulty from coming to see him. Without accepting the alternative
-suggested, among others, by De Quincey, that she was quite indifferent
-to his fate, there are reasons for rejecting the other suppositions. It
-is impossible that the most amiable of women would continue to love a
-man who had shown so little affection towards her, and whose hard heart
-did not shrink from crowning her betrayal by the ruin of her parents.
-The story of the gift of money, also, seems unlikely, as her father
-had been impoverished by the swindler, and the fund for his relief,
-raised by a subscription in London--which did not receive too generous
-support--had not yet been sent to Buttermere. And, finally--alas!
-for romance--since the moral code even of the dawn of the nineteenth
-century did not allow Mary Robinson to usurp the duties, more than
-the name, of wife to the prisoner, it is incredible that a modest
-woman would wish to renew the memories of her unhallowed union by an
-interview with the man whose association with her had brought only
-dishonour.
-
-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 his fetters were removed, and he was occupied most of
-the morning in prayer with the two clergymen, who, we are told, drank
-coffee with him. The authorities do not seem to have had any fear that
-he would attempt his life, for they allowed him the use of a razor.
-About the hour of three he made a hearty meal, at which his gaoler
-kept him company. In those times there was a tradition in Carlisle
-that a reprieve had once arrived in the afternoon for a criminal who
-was hanged in the morning. Thus, nearly three weeks had been allowed
-to elapse between Hadfield’s trial and execution--in order that there
-might be plenty of time for a communication from London--and even on
-the last day the fatal hour was postponed until the mail from the south
-was delivered.
-
-Although it had been the opinion of the town that he would 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 pinioned, his bonds being tied
-loosely at his request. Here he showed a great desire to see the
-executioner--who, oddly enough, hailed from Dumfries, the town which
-the real Colonel Hope had represented in Parliament--and gave him
-half a crown, the only money he possessed. It was four o’clock when
-the procession started from the prison, in the midst of an immense
-concourse of spectators. Hadfield occupied a post-chaise, ordered from
-a local inn, and a body of yeomanry surrounded the carriage. Without
-avail he petitioned for the windows to be closed. The gallows--two
-posts fixed in the ground, about six feet apart, with a bar laid across
-them--had been erected during the previous night on an island, known
-locally as the Sands, formed by the river Eden on the south side of
-the town beyond the Scotch gate, and between the two bridges. A small
-dung-cart, boarded over, stood beneath the cross-bar, Tyburn fashion,
-in lieu of the new drop. As soon as it met his eyes, the condemned man
-asked if this was where he was to die, and upon being answered in the
-affirmative, he exclaimed, “Oh, happy sight! I see it with pleasure!”
-
-John Hadfield met his fate with the heroism which great criminals
-invariably exhibit. Aged since his arrest, for he had been in prison
-nearly ten months, he looked at least fifty. In every respect he had
-become very different from the sprightly ‘Colonel Hope’ of the previous
-summer. When he alighted from the carriage at the shambles he seemed
-faint and exhausted, but this weakness was due to physical infirmity
-and not to fear. A feeble and piteous smile occasionally played over
-his white face. Yet none of the arrogance of pseudo-martyrdom marked
-his bearing, but his quiet resignation and reverent aspect won the pity
-of the vast crowd, bitterly hostile to him a short while before. It
-was remarked that he had still an air of distinction, and was neatly
-dressed; his jacket and silk waistcoat were black, and he wore fustian
-breeches and white thread stockings. Just before he was turned off he
-was heard to murmur, “My spirit is strong, though my body is weak.” We
-are told that he seemed to die in a moment without any struggle, and
-did not even raise his hands. An hour and a half later he was lying
-in a grave in St Mary’s Churchyard, for his request that he should be
-buried at Burgh-on-Sands was disregarded out of consideration for the
-pious memory of Edward I.
-
-Were it not for his dastardly treatment of the women who gave him their
-love, the fate of John Hadfield would seem hard. He was not hanged
-for swindling John Crump out of £50--which indeed the value of his
-carriage and its contents, left behind at Keswick, would have more
-than cancelled--but for attempting to swindle him under the fictitious
-name of Colonel Hope. Thus by assuming the character of another man he
-became entangled in one of the fine-spun meshes of the law, and was
-held guilty of an intention to defraud. Our great-grandfathers, who,
-with the assistance of Sir Alexander Thomson, could hang an old woman
-for stealing a few potatoes in a bread riot, thought it expedient also
-to kill a man who obtained £50 by telling a lie.
-
-There is much truth in the proposition, which has been stated with
-such inaccuracy by De Quincey, that, but for his heartless conduct to
-Mary of Buttermere, John Hadfield might have escaped the gallows. It
-is probable that Mr Crump would have been loth to advertise himself as
-a credulous dupe, unless he had thought that it was his duty to give
-evidence against a heartless seducer. Parson Nicholson, also, would
-have had no reason to depart from the attitude he had taken up before
-he was aware that he had officiated at a bigamous marriage.
-
-[Illustration: MARY of BUTTERMERE.
-
-_Sketched from Life July 1800_]
-
-Notwithstanding that his career was marked by so many villainies, John
-Hadfield is in many respects an admirable rascal. Setting aside his
-behaviour towards women--if that is possible even for a moment--he
-played a part which required infinite tact and magnificent courage.
-Although occasionally he robbed a man who was not rich, yet until
-the crime of Buttermere such an occurrence was in the nature of an
-accident, and was rather the fault of the wronged one for putting
-himself in the path. Like Claude Duval, the Keswick impostor was in the
-main merciful towards the impecunious; not indeed for conscience sake,
-but because he believed that his rightful place was among the wealthy.
-A hunter of big game, dukes, members of Parliament, and prosperous
-merchants were his proper prey! And the man who could maintain a decent
-social position for twenty years, in spite of the heavy handicaps of
-poverty and lowly birth, and could compel those whom one of his class
-should have met only as a lackey to receive him on equal terms, was
-more than a common trickster. An insatiable love of pleasure robbed him
-of all foresight and prudence, or such a consummate liar might have
-climbed high. Even as he was--had an earl been his father--he might
-have gone down to posterity as one of the greatest diplomats the world
-has ever seen.
-
-The career of Samuel Denmore Hayward, hanged at the Old Bailey for
-forgery on the 27th of November 1821, a picture of whom, dancing with
-‘a lady of quality’ ornaments one version of the _Newgate Calendar_,
-is similar to that of the Keswick impostor. Both men seem to have had
-culture and address; each was distinguished for his social ambition,
-and both were famous for gallantry. With the exception of James
-Maclean, illustrious as the friend of Lady Caroline Petersham and
-little Miss Ashe, none of our rogues--not even William Parsons, the
-baronet’s son--have been such fine gentlemen.
-
-Mary Robinson’s child was born early in June 1803, but did not survive
-its birth. Who can tell whether she wept over it; or if the words that
-came from the lips of her parents, when they heard of the death of her
-betrayer, did not seem a fitting epitaph--“God be thanked!” To avoid
-the gaze of curious travellers the unhappy girl was obliged for a
-period to leave her native place, and the shadow that had fallen upon
-her young life was not lifted for many years. Yet, brighter days were
-in store for the Maid of Buttermere. In the course of time she was
-wooed and won by a Cumberland ‘statesman’ named Richard Harrison, to
-whom she was married at Brigham Church in the May of 1808. Two of her
-sons, born at Buttermere, where she resided for a period after her
-marriage, died in infancy; but when her husband took her to his farm
-at ‘Todcrofts’ Caldbeck, beyond Skiddaw--where the Harrison family
-had been ‘statesmen’ for generations--she became the mother of five
-more children, three daughters and two sons, all of whom grew up and
-married. In later years it was remarked that her girls were as pretty
-as Mary had been herself when she was the Maid of the Inn. There is
-reason to believe that the rest of her career was happy and prosperous,
-and she lived tranquilly in her home at ‘Todcrofts’ where she died in
-her fifty-ninth year. The tombstone records that she passed away on the
-7th of February 1837, while her husband survived her for sixteen years.
-Both rest in the churchyard that holds the ashes of immortal John Peel,
-who followed Richard Harrison to ‘the happy hunting-fields’ within a
-few months.
-
- * * * * *
-
-(I am indebted to the kindness of Mr Richard Greenup, of Beckstones,
-Caldbeck, one of Mary Robinson’s few surviving grandchildren, for much
-interesting information.)
-
-
-
-
-BIBLIOGRAPHY OF THE HADFIELD CASE
-
-
-I. CONTEMPORARY TRACTS, ETC.
-
-1. _Report of the Proceedings on the Trial of John Hatfield_, London.
-Printed for A. H. Nairne and B. Mace. Sold by Crosby and Company price
-6d. 1803. Brit. Mus.
-
- Although always spoken of as John Hatfield, the proper name of
- the ‘Keswick Impostor’ if the register of his baptism is an
- authority, was Hadfield.
-
-
-2. _The Life of Mary Robinson_, the celebrated Beauty of Buttermere,
-Embellished with an elegant coloured Print. London. Printed by John
-Rhynd, 21 Ray Street, Cold Bath Fields. Sold by Crosby and Company,
-Paternoster Row. Price 1/. 1803. Brit. Mus.
-
-3. _The Life of John Hatfield_, Printed and Published by Scott and
-Benson. Keswick. James Ivison, Market Place 1846. Brit. Mus.
-
-
-II. CONTEMPORARY NEWSPAPERS AND MAGAZINES
-
- 1. _The Times_, Oct., Nov., Dec. 1802; Jan., Aug., Sept. 1803.
- 2. _The Morning Post_, do. do.
- 3. _The St James’s Chronicle_, do. do.
- 4. _The Morning Herald_, do. do.
- 5. _The Morning Chronicle_, do. do.
- 6. _The True Briton_, do. do.
- 7. _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, do. do.
- 8. _The Carlisle Journal_, do. do.
- 9. _The Leeds Mercury_, do. do.
-
- 10. _The Gentleman’s Magazine_, part ii. 1792, pp. 1114-16;
- part i. 1800, p. 18-24; part ii. 1802, pp. 1013, 1062, 1063,
- 1157; part ii. 1803, pp. 779, 876, 983.
-
- 11. _The European Magazine_, part ii. 1792, p. 436; part ii.
- 1802, pp. 316, 477; part ii. 1803, pp. 157, 242.
-
-_Coleridge and the “Morning Post.”_
-
- Three accounts from the pen of Coleridge, which appeared in
- the _Morning Post_ of October 11, October 22, and November 5
- respectively, under the titles “Romantic Marriage” and “The
- Fraudulent Marriage,” find a place in Coleridge’s “Essays
- on His Own Times,” edited by his daughter. The late Mr H.
- D. Traill, in his monograph in the “English Men of Letters”
- series, has pointed out (note, p. 80) that “it is impossible
- to believe that this collection, forming as it does but two
- small volumes, and a portion of a third, is anything like
- complete.” It is not an unwarrantable assumption that two
- subsequent articles in the _Morning Post_, which appeared on
- November 20 and December 31, were written from Greta Hall, and
- that Coleridge therefore was responsible for the sobriquet “The
- Keswick Impostor.”
-
- Sir Alexander Hope, brother of the third Earl Hopetoun, whom
- Hadfield impersonated, was not (as stated in the _Dic. Nat.
- Biog._) the second but the _eighth_ son of the second earl
- (_vide Gentleman’s Magazine_, 1837, part ii. p. 423).
-
-
-NOTES.
-
-NOTE I.--_A Fortnight’s Ramble to the Lakes in Westmorland_, Lancashire
-and Cumberland.
-
- This book is reviewed at full length in the _Gentleman’s
- Magazine_, December 1792, pt. ii. pp. 1114-16, and in the
- _European Magazine_, December 1892, pt. ii. p. 436. The author,
- Joseph Budworth, who afterwards adopted his wife’s surname,
- Palmer, was a contributor to the former journal. Mary Robinson
- is described under the pseudonym ‘Sally of Buttermere’ The
- second edition of the _Fortnight’s Ramble_ is reviewed in
- _Gentleman’s Magazine_, vol. lxvi. pt. i. p. 132, February 1796.
-
-NOTE II.--_A Revisit to Buttermere._ Letter from a rambler to ‘Mr.
-Urban’ dated Buttermere, January 2 (_vide Gentleman’s Magazine_,
-January 1800, pp. 18-24).
-
- This account was inserted in the third edition of _A
- Fortnight’s Ramble_, published in 1810. Joseph Budworth tells
- us that his second visit to Buttermere took place in January
- 1798.
-
-NOTE III.--_The Prelude_, or Growth of a Poet’s Mind, by Wm.
-Wordsworth. Commenced 1799, finished 1805, published 1850. The
-Centenary edition of the works of Wm. Wordsworth. Six vols. Edited by
-E. Moxon, 1870.
-
- Book VII., “Residence in London,” contains the famous reference
- to Mary of Buttermere and her story. Describing various dramas
- he has seen at Sadler’s Wells Theatre, the poet mentions one
- written around the story of Mary of Buttermere. _Notes and
- Queries_, Tenth Series, i. pp. 7, 70, 96.
-
-NOTE IV.--_The Collected Writings of Thomas De Quincey._ Edited by
-David Masson. A. & C. Black (1889-90); _vide Literary Reminiscences_,
-Samuel Taylor Coleridge, vol. ii. pp. 138-225.
-
- The description of ‘The Hadfield Affair’ occupies pp. 174-184,
- and its numerous errors were the subject of a smart attack by a
- correspondent in _Notes and Queries_ (First Series, vol. viii.
- p. 26), July 9, 1853.
-
-NOTE V.--_The Tourist’s New Guide._ By William Green. In two volumes.
-Kendal (1819), vol. ii. pp. 180-5, 221. _Seventy-eight Studies from
-Nature._ By William Green. Longman (1809) p. 7.
-
- The various descriptions of Mary Robinson are so conflicting
- that it is difficult, until one reads the impressions recorded
- from year to year by Wm. Green, to form an estimate of her
- personal appearance. It has been shown that Joseph Budworth,
- who first saw her in 1792, when she was fourteen, raves of
- her charms, and his second visit to Buttermere six years
- later did not disillusionise him. De Quincey, however, denies
- that she was beautiful, and does not praise even her figure.
- Yet he seems to be unconscious that he is describing, not
- the world-renowned ‘Maiden of Buttermere’ but a matron of
- thirty-five, who was now the wife of a prosperous farmer,
- and who had drank deeply of life’s sorrows. Mr Frederick
- Reed of Hassness, Buttermere, writing in August 1874 (_Notes
- and Queries_, Fifth Series, ii. 175), thirty-seven years
- after her death, states that “she was not the beauty she is
- represented to have been. She carried herself well, but got
- to be coarse-featured.” Still, as it is improbable that Mr
- Reed saw her till she was past her prime, his criticism is of
- little value. Sara Nelson, too, who was born during the year of
- Mary’s great trouble, did not meet her till her good looks had
- vanished. The _Morning Post_ of October 11, 1802, contains the
- following description from the pen of Coleridge:--“To beauty in
- the strict sense of the word she has small pretensions, being
- rather gap-toothed and somewhat pock-fretten. But her face is
- very expressive, and the expression extremely interesting, and
- her figure and movements are graceful to a miracle. She ought
- indeed to be called the Grace of Buttermere rather than the
- Beauty.”
-
- William Green tells us that he first saw Mary Robinson in
- 1791, the year before she was noticed by Captain Budworth.
- “At that time,” says he, “she was thirteen; and to an open,
- honest, and pleasant-looking face, then in the bloom of
- health, was added the promise of a good figure. Her garb,
- though neat, was rustic; but through it, even while so young,
- appeared indications of that mild dignity which was afterwards
- so peculiarly attractive.” He saw her next in 1794. “The
- infantine prettiness of thirteen was now matured into beauty;
- her countenance beamed with an indescribable sweetness, and the
- commanding graces of her fine person were equalled only by her
- innate good sense and excellent disposition.” After remarking
- that Captain Budworth’s panegyric seemed to have had no ill
- effect upon her mind, he proceeds: “Like some other mountain
- rustics, observed by the writer during his residence amongst
- these thinly populated wilds, Mary’s beauty was ripened at
- an early period; for this was, probably, the period of its
- perfection.” Green did not see her again till 1801. “She was
- then twenty-three, and though greatly admired for her general
- appearance and deportment, was on the whole infinitely less
- interesting than seven years before that time.” In 1805, the
- date of his next visit to Buttermere, he noted a further
- change. “Her features were pervaded by a melancholy meekness,
- but her beauty was fled, and with it, that peculiar elegance of
- person, for which she was formerly celebrated.” The next time
- the artist saw her was in 1810. “She was no longer the Beauty
- of Buttermere, but Mrs. Harrison, the bulky wife of a farmer,
- blessed with much good humour, and a ready utterance.” This
- was about the time when De Quincey saw her. Gillray’s sketch,
- November 15, 1802, corroborates Green’s description.
-
- The _Dictionary of National Biography_ gives the date of
- publication of _The Tourist’s Guide_ as 1822. This is an error.
- It was published in 1819. The same monograph does not mention
- Green’s _Survey of Manchester_.
-
-NOTE VI.--_East Cheshire._ By J. P. Earwaker, 1880, vol. ii. p. 136.
-
- Gives the following extract from the register of baptisms at
- the parish church of Mottram-in-Longdendale:--
-
- “1759. May 24, John, son of William Hadfield, and Betty, his
- Wife.” The church register confirms 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 VII.--_Dic. Nat. Biog._ This excellent sketch is only marred by
-the misspelling of Hadfield’s name, and the error in the date of his
-birth.
-
-
-
-
-A FAMOUS FORGERY
-
-THE CASE OF HENRY FAUNTLEROY, 1824
-
-
-_Part I.--The Criminal and his Crime._
-
- “Then, list, ingenuous youth....
- And once forego your joy,
- For your instruction I display
- The life of Fauntleroy.”
-
- _The Dirge of Fauntleroy_, JAMES USHER, 1824.
-
-In the year 1792--not one of the least disastrous in our annals of
-commerce--a small party of capitalists established a private bank under
-the name of Marsh, Sibbald & Company of Berners Street. The chief
-promoters--William Marsh, a naval agent, and James Sibbald of Sittwood
-Park, Berkshire, a retired official of Company John--were gentlemen
-of substance and position; while their managing partner, William
-Fauntleroy (previously employed at the famous house of Barclay), was a
-man of ability and business experience. Four years later, a younger son
-of Sir Edward Stracey, a Norfolk baronet, who married eventually the
-niece of Sir James Sibbald, was admitted into the firm.
-
-[Illustration: _HENRY FAUNTLEROY._]
-
-Although never a bank of great resources, it appears to have made a
-fair return to its proprietors, and because of its connection with two
-baronets--one of whom became Sheriff of his county--it was regarded
-as a house of repute. In the spring of 1807 the firm received a
-severe blow through the death, when only in his fifty-eighth year, of
-the active partner, William Fauntleroy, in whom his colleagues placed
-implicit trust. Luckily, however, it was possible to fill his place,
-for his second son Henry, who had been employed as a clerk for seven
-years, although only twenty-two, was fit and eager for the post. None
-of the members of the firm were able to devote much attention to their
-bank, and thus, by a strange chance, the sole control was left in the
-hands of young Fauntleroy.
-
-A remarkable man in every respect, this youthful manager, who carried
-with ease the burden of a great business on his shoulders. During
-the second decade of last century no figure was better known to
-those familiar with the west end of Oxford Street. Neat and elegant
-as Brummell, grave and industrious as Henry Addington, he seemed a
-model for all young men of commerce. Each morning at the same hour,
-the front door of No. 7 Berners Street, where he lived with his
-mother and sister, was thrown open, and the banker would step briskly
-into the adjoining premises--the counting-house of Messrs Marsh,
-Stracey, Fauntleroy & Graham. For he was a partner, also, as well as
-absolute manager, this solemn young gentleman whose air of ponderous
-respectability won the confidence of all.
-
-At first sight, his cleanly-chiselled features seemed to express merely
-gentleness and simplicity, but a second glance would reveal a picture
-of resolution and strength. In fact, the massive brow, the broad
-cheekbones, and the firm, bold contour of the chin suggested a strange
-likeness--one that he sought to emphasise by the close-cropped hair
-made to droop over his forehead. It was his foible, this belief that
-he bore a resemblance to the great Buonaparte--whose bust adorned his
-mantelpiece--and the final catastrophe that overwhelmed him should
-discourage any latter-day egoist who prides himself upon a similar
-likeness.
-
-Springing from an industrious Nonconformist stock (for his father
-had been the architect of his own fortunes, while his elder brother
-William, who fell a victim to consumption at an early age, was a youth
-full of the promise of genius), the temperament of Henry Fauntleroy
-appears to have been as complex a piece of mechanism as Nature ever
-enclosed within a human tenement. The love of toil, and an indomitable
-perseverance, seemed to be the guiding principles of his life. Not only
-did his fine courage never waver amidst the terrors of the financial
-tempest, through which he stood at the helm of his frail bark, but he
-gave no sign to his colleagues of the misgivings that must have lurked
-within his mind. For commerce had fallen upon evil days. On every side
-he beheld the crash and wreckage of his fellows, but, inspired by the
-confidence which only the knowledge of power can bestow, he resolved
-to continue his struggle against the storm. With a brain capable of
-grappling with huge balance-sheets, an almost superhuman dexterity in
-figures being his natural gift, the work of three men was the daily
-task of this Napoleon of commerce. Although the members of his firm
-were compelled to dive deeply into their pockets during these hazardous
-years, to meet losses occasioned by the failure of clients engaged in
-building speculations, the Berners Street Bank was handled so skilfully
-that it managed to weather the storm.
-
-In spite of his vast abilities, there was nothing of bombast in
-Fauntleroy’s nature, nor did external evidence show that he was engaged
-in deadly warfare against the unpropitious fates. A gentle, unassuming
-man, with a quiet charm of address, he won universal regard from all
-with whom he came into contact. The gift of friendship, the infectious
-knack of social intercourse, was part of his character. Naturally, the
-circle in which he moved was composed of persons of refinement and,
-in some cases, of eminence in the commercial world. While his hand
-was ever open to the cry of distress, his board always had a place
-for those who had gained his esteem. All the leisure he could snatch
-seemed devoted to simple pleasures--a choice little dinner to a few
-kindred spirits, a holiday at his suburban villa, or a week-end visit
-to his house in Brighton. Though his earnest, florid face might be seen
-often beneath the hood of his smart cabriolet, this carriage was used
-principally in journeys between Berners Street and the City. In short,
-few business men in London were held in greater respect than this
-hard-working young banker, who was so like the Emperor Napoleon.
-
-Yet there was another side to the picture. Although ostensibly he lived
-this simple and strenuous existence, a few bosom companions knew him
-in another guise. Unknown to the world, those week-end parties at his
-villa in the suburbs were tainted and ungodly. The sweet girl who sat
-at the head of his table as mistress of his home had lost her maiden
-innocence while her fresh young beauty was in its bud, lured by the
-sensuous Fauntleroy almost from school. All her pretty friends belonged
-to the same frail sisterhood, Cyprians beyond question, though modest
-perhaps in demeanour and speech. And with these ‘Kates and Sues’ of
-the town came Fauntleroy’s intimates, ‘Toms and Jerries’ unmistakably,
-though possibly only in travesty, becoming sober men once more in
-business hours.
-
-Or one might have seen him driving past the fetid Pavilion at
-Brighton in his smart carriage, with its fawn-coloured lining, and
-have recognised in the shameless features of the flashy lady at
-his side the notorious ‘Corinthian Kate’ herself--in real life Mrs
-‘Bang’ most ‘slap-up of ladybirds’ Then, again, at his luxurious
-seaside home in Western Place, with its conservatories and sumptuous
-billiard-room-draped as a facsimile of Napoleon’s travelling tent--his
-Kate’s dear friend Harriet Wilson, or other illustrious fair ones,
-would come to amuse his bachelor companions. Thus, in his leisure
-moments, the industrious Fauntleroy enjoyed secretly the life of an
-epicure and sensualist. Deep-buried in his soul the love of vice was
-ever present. “There only needed one thing to complete your equipage,”
-he writes, in plain _double entente_ that indicates his ruling passion,
-to his friend Sheriff Parkins, “instead of the man at your side, a
-beautiful angel!”
-
-Marriage had meant no sowing of wild oats to Henry Fauntleroy. A
-mystery surrounds his union to the daughter of a naval captain named
-John Young. It is known only that, although a son was born, the match
-from the first was an unhappy one, and an early separation took
-place. During the year of Waterloo a liaison with a married lady, who
-had a complacent or shortsighted husband, increased the habits of
-extravagance which in the end brought the banker to ruin. Later, the
-pretty young girl Maria Fox, who had been educated at a convent in
-France, consented to become the mistress of his suburban home. Thus
-the double life continued; while to those who knew him only in Berners
-Street, Mr Fauntleroy appeared the most righteous and respectable of
-men.
-
-What was the nominal income of the young bank manager it is impossible
-to ascertain; but whatever the sum, it is certain that before very long
-his expenditure began to exceed his means. Probably he took the first
-step on his downward march during the year of the hejira to Elba. The
-strength and weakness of his character combined to make the position
-of Tantalus unendurable. Nothing seemed more certain than that the
-Berners Street house, which had never recovered from its unfortunate
-speculations, would return large profits if its capital was sufficient
-to meet all claims. Thus Fauntleroy decided not to take his colleagues
-into his confidence. Such a step would have caused the business to be
-wound up, and he would have lost his handsome salary. As one of his
-most severe critics has pointed out, “he had not enough moral courage
-to face the world in honest, brave poverty.” On the contrary, his
-courage took another form. Confident that he must conquer evil fortune,
-the self-reliant man resolved to commence a life-and-death battle with
-fate, alone and unaided. And his choice was the frightful expedient of
-forgery!
-
-The methods of Fauntleroy were of unparalleled audacity. Then,
-as now, clients were in the habit of placing the certificates of
-their securities in the hands of their bankers for safe custody.
-So, by boldly forging the signature of the proprietor upon a power
-of attorney, he was able to sell any particular investment that he
-desired. Naturally, his depredations were confined to Government
-securities--Consols, Long Annuities, Exchequer Bills--and thus in
-effecting the fraudulent transfers his negotiations were with the
-Bank of England. For a period of almost ten years this incomparable
-swindler maintained the credit of his house in this manner, selling
-stocks belonging to his clients to the value of hundreds of thousands
-of pounds. As the proprietors received their dividends as regularly
-as ever--for Fauntleroy took care that their pass-books were credited
-with the half-yearly payments--they never knew that their investments
-had been abstracted. On the death of an owner the stolen stock was
-replaced, and thus the trustees were unaware of the theft. So the
-frauds went on, each forgery being shrouded by another, until the total
-deficit of the Berners Street Bank exceeded half a million!
-
-Narrow escapes were inevitable. On one occasion he was handing over a
-power of attorney for the transfer of stock to one of the clerks in
-the Consols Office at the Bank of England, when the person whose name
-he had forged entered the room. Yet Fauntleroy’s _aplomb_ did not fail
-him. As soon as he perceived the new-comer, he requested the clerk
-to return the document, with the excuse that he wished to correct an
-omission. Then, having secured the paper, he went to greet the friend
-whom he was about to rob, and they strolled out of the bank together.
-Another day, one of his lady clients instructed a London broker to sell
-some stock for her. Finding no such investment registered in her name,
-the man called at Berners Street to make inquiries. To his surprise
-the plausible banker informed him that the lady had already desired
-him to effect the sale. “And here,” continued the smiling Fauntleroy,
-producing a number of Exchequer bills, “are the proceeds.” Although his
-customer protested that she had never authorised the transaction, the
-matter was allowed to drop. While a friend was chatting in his private
-office he is said to have been imitating his signature, which he took
-out to the counting-house before his companion had departed. One of
-the last occasions when he visited the Bank of England was on the 5th
-of January, the day on which Thurtell and Hunt were tried for the
-Gillshill murder. While the clerk was crediting the dividend warrants
-due to his firm, the banker conversed about the crime. It was noted
-as a strange coincidence that the same clerk was one of the witnesses
-against him.
-
-One day in September 1824, Mr J. D. Hulme, an official of the Custom
-House, wishing to examine a list of investments belonging to an
-estate of which he had become a trustee, paid a visit to the Bank of
-England. To his amazement he found that a sum of £10,000 in Consols
-was missing, and inquiry proved that the stock had been sold by the
-Berners Street manager under a power of attorney. On the advice of
-Mr Freshfield, solicitor of the bank, an application was made to Mr
-Conant of Marlborough Street, who was induced to grant a warrant for
-the arrest of the suspected man. At last the wily Fauntleroy had been
-caught napping; for although he was aware that there was a risk of
-exposure, and had made preparations to reinvest the stolen Consols, he
-had not yet been able to complete the transaction.
-
-During the whole of Thursday night, Samuel Plank, chief-officer of
-Marlborough Street, finding that the banker was away from home, paraded
-Berners Street watching for his return. On the next morning, the 10th
-of September, at his usual hour, the grave, neatly dressed forger
-walked into his place of business. A mean trick marked the arrest.
-Mr Goodchild, the other co-trustee of the plundered estate, entered
-the counting-house a few moments before Plank, and proceeded into the
-private office, while the constable, pretending to cash a cheque,
-remained at the counter. When through the half-closed door of the inner
-room he saw that the victim and decoy were closeted together, the
-police-officer pushed past the astonished clerks, explaining that he
-wanted to speak to their employer. As Fauntleroy raised his eyes from
-his desk, and saw a warrant in the intruder’s hand, he realised that
-the visit of his friend was merely a device to place him in the hand of
-the law.
-
-“Good God!” exclaimed the doomed man. “Cannot this business be settled?”
-
-And tradition relates that he offered Plank a bribe of ten thousand
-pounds to allow him to escape. But the officer proved incorruptible,
-and soon the banker was standing in the presence of his astonished
-friend, Magistrate John Conant, who, though sore distressed, was
-compelled to commit him to Coldbath Fields prison.
-
-“I alone am guilty,” 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 his Moscow. No longer was he the dandy banker of Berners Street,
-whose friendship had been sought by so many rich men from the City.
-The days of the lavish Corinthian, the associate of ‘bang-up pinks
-and bloods’ had passed away for ever, and he had become a criminal,
-standing beneath the shadow of the gallows!
-
-While Mr Freshfield, with the aid of the constable, proceeded to
-execute his right of search, the members of the firm were summoned to
-town. At first the catastrophe was not appreciated to the full extent.
-On the following morning the bank opened its doors, and customers paid
-and drew their cheques as usual. However, before the close of the day
-the proprietors sent an announcement to the press that “in consequence
-of the extraordinary conduct of their partner,” they had determined for
-the present to suspend payment.
-
-During the whole of Monday, the 13th of September, an excited throng
-took possession of Berners Street--neighbouring tradesmen trembling for
-their deposits; men from the City dismayed by the wildest rumours. A
-force of police was deemed necessary to prevent a riot. “Arrest of Mr
-Fauntleroy, the well-known banker!” The amazing tidings was upon every
-lip. A similar sensation had not been experienced in the memory of
-man. Since the days of Dr Dodd, half a century before, none so high in
-the social scale had been accused of such a crime. All the week, panic
-reigned in business houses. It was whispered that the defalcations
-would reach half a million pounds: that the greatest commercial
-scandal of the age would be disclosed. One day, it was said that
-Fauntleroy had arranged a plan of escape; on another, that he had cut
-his throat with a razor.
-
-In the presence of a crowd of his creditors, the forger--crushed,
-despairing, overwhelmed with the deepest shame--was brought up for his
-first examination at Marlborough Street on the following Saturday.
-Although not more than forty, his hair, prematurely grey, made him look
-much older. During ten long years of torture the slow fires of suspense
-must have burnt deep into his soul, and the reality of this fatal
-hour would seem less cruel than the dreaded expectation. One observer
-states that “his expression is of pure John Bull good-nature”; another
-declares that he had “a mild Roman contour of visage”; while his dress
-was the inevitable blue tail-coat and trousers, with half-boots and a
-light-coloured waistcoat--the morning attire of all gentlemen of the
-period from Lord Alvanley and Ball Hughes down to Corinthian Tom.
-
-On the Friday week following his first examination, the forger stood
-once more in the dock at Marlborough Street. Two maiden ladies, Miss
-Frances and Miss Elizabeth Young, whose small fortune had been stolen,
-gave testimony against the prisoner. Pained to see the man whom they
-had honoured and trusted in this terrible position, the tender-hearted
-women were tearful and distressed. Since the maiden name of Mrs Henry
-Fauntleroy was the same as theirs, rumour leapt to the conclusion that
-these witnesses were the sisters of the prisoner’s wife. When the
-unfortunate banker was seen to flush deeply as Miss Young appeared in
-the witness-box, the error was confirmed.
-
-It was not until the 19th of October that the accused went through his
-third and last examination. Although well-groomed and immaculate as
-ever, he was a mere shadow of the placid, inscrutable man of business
-who had borne his guilty secret so boldly and so long. There was
-“rather a ghastly than a living hue upon his countenance,” remarks the
-stylist who reports for _The Times_. All the necessary charges being
-proved, he was committed to Newgate, his removal being postponed until
-Thursday, the 21st of October, on the application of his solicitor.
-
-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 greatest strife among the various newspapers to secure the
-most lurid reports. Many times we have the amusing spectacle of two
-journals belabouring each other like the envious editors in _Pickwick_.
-Even the recent crime of John Thurtell--for in this wonderful fourth
-year of his Gracious Majesty King George IV. the lucky public was
-satiated with melodrama, while Jemmy Catnach’s pockets were overflowing
-with gold--did not offer such chances of sensational reports. It was
-announced to an amazed public that Fauntleroy had squandered the
-proceeds of his forgeries in riot and dissipation. One-half of his
-private life was disclosed to public ears; and though some of the
-newspapers were merciful, just as others were hostile to the prisoner,
-one and all, with very few exceptions, probed deep into his murky past.
-
-Happily, there is no evidence to justify the supposition that the
-partners in the Berners Street bank--and in particular Mr J. H.
-Stracey, who thirty years later succeeded to the baronetcy held in turn
-by his father and his two brothers--were responsible for the dastardly
-attacks upon the defenceless man. Even had he given no public denial
-to the charge, such an assumption is impossible in the case of an
-honourable man like the late Sir Josias Stracey. Moreover, the identity
-of the person who inspired the disgraceful accounts in _The Times_ and
-other journals is easy to discern.
-
-This spiteful enemy bursts upon the stage of the sad tragedy of
-Fauntleroy like the comic villain of melodrama--too contemptible to
-hate, but with a humour too crapulous for whole-hearted laughter.
-Joseph Wilfred Parkins--elected Sheriff of London on the 24th of June
-1819--appears to have been one of the most blatant humbugs that ever
-belonged to the objectionable family of Bumble. Tradition relates that
-he was the son of a blacksmith who lived on the borders of Inglewood
-Forest in Cumberland; but Parkins, too proud to know from whence he
-came, preferred to pass as a bastard of the Duke of Norfolk. In his
-early youth, we are told that “he was apprenticed to a breeches-maker
-in Carlisle, but his dexterity as a workman not being commensurate
-with his powers of digestion, a separation took place.” Afterwards he
-sailed to Calcutta, where, assisted by letters of introduction from his
-patron the Duke, he established a lucrative business. In other ways,
-according to account, he was a success in India, where he became famous
-for hunting tigers with English greyhounds, and once shot a coolie for
-disobeying his orders, two miles and a half distant, right through
-the head, across the Ganges, and through an impenetrable jungle! On
-another occasion he claimed to have ridden stark naked in mid-day, on
-a barebacked horse without bridle, fifty miles in six hours, for a
-wager, and to have trotted back for pleasure without even a drink of
-water. When he returned to his native land with the treasures of the
-East, it was inevitable that such a man should win notoriety. Having
-failed to gain the affections of Queen Caroline, who preferred Alderman
-Wood for a beau, he devoted himself to Olive Serres, ‘Princess of
-Cumberland’ and became her champion and literary collaborator. One of
-the achievements on which he most prided himself was the refusal to
-marry a daughter of Lord Sidmouth, who was most eager to become his
-father-in-law. Sometimes we behold him fawning upon Lord Mayor Waithman
-and Orator Hunt. At others, no one excels him in hurling abuse at these
-same celebrities. During a portion of his career a charmer named Hannah
-White caused him much trouble. Probably he enjoys the unique honour of
-being the only Sheriff of London upon whom the Court of Common Council
-has passed a vote of censure for his conduct while in office.
-
-For some years this great Parkins was a familiar friend of Henry
-Fauntleroy. “I have been looking out for you in town these three or
-four days,” the banker writes to him in May 1816, “as we have a dance
-this evening, and lots of pretty girls, and I know you are an admirer
-of them.” However, just after the arrest, the ex-Sheriff suspected
-his former associate unjustly of a breach of faith, and thus became
-his most deadly enemy, placing his intimate knowledge of his friend’s
-habits at the service of the hostile press. In order to exhibit the
-bankers depravity, he published a communication from the fair but frail
-Corinthian Kate, known in real life as ‘Mother Bang’ but the context
-chiefly serves to indicate that Parkins treasured a grudge because his
-friend had never introduced him to the lady. Even after the criminal
-had received sentence his animosity did not cease. “The penalty for
-forgery should be the gallows,” he declared at a meeting of the Berners
-Street creditors, “until 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 should be shown to his father,
-the vindictive ex-Sheriff declared in the columns of the _Morning
-Chronicle_ (as it proved, falsely) that the boy was not the author
-of the appeal. Nor did he scruple to print private letters from Mrs
-Fauntleroy to her husband in order to show that she was an ill-used
-wife.
-
-Great indulgence was shown to the banker--for a forger always was
-treated with lenience--during his term of imprisonment at the Old
-Bailey. The same consideration--which aroused the ire of Parkins to
-boiling point--had been paid to him while he was under the care of Mr
-Vickery, ex-Bow Street runner, at that time the Governor of Coldbath
-Fields bridewell. On this account there arose a very pretty quarrel, at
-which, of course, the newspapers assisted, between John Edward Conant
-of Marlborough Street and an elderly magistrate of Hammersmith named
-John Hanson. The latter was accused of intruding into Fauntleroy’s room
-at the House of Correction, when the following conversation is said to
-have taken place:
-
-“You are the banker from Berners Street, aren’t you?” demanded the
-visitor.
-
-“Yes, I am that unfortunate person, sir,” answered the prisoner.
-
-“Oh, then you’d better look to your soul,” was the reply. “Look to your
-Bible. Read your Bible.”
-
-Although poor old Hanson, who was struck off the list of visiting
-justices in consequence of his officiousness, made many earnest
-protests that he had been misrepresented, and although Fauntleroy
-acquitted him of all intent to offend, it would appear that his
-observations were superfluous, whatever their precise form.
-
-At Newgate the kind-hearted Mr Wontner--keeper of the gaol from 1822
-till his premature death at the age of fifty in 1833--allowed the
-unfortunate banker every privilege that lay in his power. Thus his
-prison was no gloomy dungeon, but a large and well-furnished room,
-occupied by a turnkey named Harris, who removed into an adjacent
-apartment, and who, together with his wife, watched over and attended
-to the wants of his charge. Convinced that his case was hopeless, it
-is said that Fauntleroy resolved to plead guilty; but, urged by his
-friends, and by his solicitors, Messrs Forbes & Harmer, he was induced
-at last to abandon the intention.
-
-James Harmer, who conducted his defence, was the great criminal
-lawyer of his day--a prototype of Mr Jaggers--the prince of Old
-Bailey attorneys. Among his clients were such diametrically opposite
-characters as Joseph Hunt of Gillshill fame, and lusty Sam Bamford
-of Middleton. The incidents of Mr Fauntleroy’s case offered many
-opportunities for his versatile talents; and although he failed to
-teach good manners to _The Times_ newspaper, he did much service to his
-age, by means of a side issue, in getting Joseph Parkins indicted for
-perjury. Yet the greatest abilities could do little to extenuate the
-Berners Street forgeries. Still, whether or not he had a weakness for
-scented soap, Harmer never fought in kid gloves, as the unfortunate
-Messrs Marsh, Stracey, & Graham--whom he was compelled to damage in the
-interests of the man he defended--found to their cost. Those inclined
-to accuse Charles Dickens of exaggeration should bear in mind that
-murderer Hunt, who chose Jaggers Harmer as his solicitor, escaped the
-hangman’s rope, while Thurtell, who employed another lawyer, was handed
-over to Thomas Cheshire.
-
-The trial of Fauntleroy on Saturday, the 30th of October, did not
-attract the mob of respectables that officialdom had anticipated. A
-guinea entrance-fee proved prohibitive. Press and law students alone
-furnished their crowds, and the private galleries were patronised but
-poorly. Joseph Parkins, eager to witness the humiliation of the man
-whom he had chosen to regard as an enemy, was an early arrival, taking
-his place at the barristers’ table in front of the dock, where, in full
-view of the prisoner, he could gloat over his misery. Luckily, Sheriff
-Brown, whose humanity--like that of his colleague John Key--was
-in advance of the age, witnessed the manœuvre, and, appreciating the
-motive of the truculent nabob, sent an officer of the court to tell
-him that his seat was engaged. Parkins, whose fierce eyes, glaring
-from beneath bushy, overhanging brows, seemed to inflame his combative
-features and fiery locks, turned in outraged dignity upon the official.
-
-[Illustration:
-
-_James Harmer, Esqʳ._
-
-_Solicitor._
-
-_Engraved by T. Wright from a Drawing by A. Wivell._
-
-_London, Published August 1ˢᵗ, 1820, by A. WIVELL, 105, Great
-Titchfield Street._]
-
-“Do you know to whom you speak, sir?” he articulated.
-
-“Know you?” was the reply. “To be sure I do. Come, be off!”
-
-So the ‘XXX Sheriff’ was forced to make his exit by climbing
-ignominiously over seats and benches, to the infinite mirth and
-advantage of the gentlemen of the press.
-
-At ten o’clock Justice Park and Baron Garrow come into court, followed
-by the Attorney-General, the great Sir John Copley, soon to be Lord
-Lyndhurst, who, instructed by Mr Freshfield, solicitor to the bank,
-has charge of the prosecution. John Gurney, afterwards a judge, who,
-like Scarlett and Adolphus, is one of the great criminal barristers of
-his day, defends the prisoner. The buzz of many voices is hushed into
-silence as Fauntleroy is placed at the bar. Jaggers Harmer accompanies
-him. For a moment he is dazzled by the glare from the inverted mirror
-above the dock. Making a feeble attempt to bow to his judges, he almost
-falls back into the arms of the attendants. With closed eyes and bent
-head, shrinking from the universal gaze, he stands with trembling
-fingers resting on the bar--a picture of unutterable shame. Thin and
-worn are his features, and his face is pale as death, while his hair,
-thrown into contrast by his full suit of black, has become white as
-though sprinkled with powder.
-
-The Attorney-General proceeds with the first indictment, that which
-charges the prisoner with transferring under a forged deed £5450 Three
-per cent. Consols, belonging to Miss Frances Young. During the speech
-there comes a disclosure amazing to everyone in court save the man in
-the dock and those who defend him. In a private box found at Berners
-Street after his arrest, a document has been discovered containing a
-list of stolen securities. Upon this paper, written and signed by the
-hand of Fauntleroy, and dated the 7th of May 1816, are these words,
-which, as Sir John Copley reads them, bewilder all his hearers:--
-
-“In order to keep up the credit of our house I have forged powers of
-attorney, and have thereupon sold out all these sums, without the
-knowledge of my partners. I have given credit in the accounts for the
-interest when it became due. The Bank (of England) began first to
-refuse our acceptances, and thereby to destroy the credit of our house;
-they shall smart for it.”
-
-Attorney-General and rest of the world are much puzzled, concluding
-that but for unaccountable negligence the prisoner would have destroyed
-this seemingly incriminating document; as though a forger would not
-prefer that his frauds should be thought to have been actuated rather
-by devotion to his business and revenge against the unpopular Old Lady
-of Threadneedle Street than merely for the sake of self-aggrandisement.
-“The Bank of England shall smart for it!” Were the story credible--were
-Fauntleroy, in fact, a small defaulter--we may well believe that
-another fierce outcry would have arisen against the wicked old harridan
-of the City.
-
-There is little difficulty in proving the indictment, while the poor
-wretch in the dock sits huddled in his chair, trying vainly to conceal
-his face with his handkerchief. A couple of his own clerks swear that
-the signature to the deed is a forgery. Tear-stained Miss Young, whom
-most regard as the sister-in-law of the accused man, proves that her
-slender store of investments has been pilfered. Officials of the
-Bank show that the unhappy prisoner was the thief. There crops up
-a curious instance of the _naïveté_ of British jurisprudence. For
-Threadneedle Street has been obliged to refund the stocks belonging to
-Miss Young in order to make her ‘a competent witness’ lest it might
-seem that she has a motive in affirming or denying the forgery of the
-power of attorney. Thus the Old Lady confesses that she has bribed a
-witness in order that this witness may not be suspected of trying to
-obtain a bribe!
-
-[Illustration: _FAUNTLEROY’S TRIAL AT THE OLD BAILEY._]
-
-When Fauntleroy is called upon for his defence, he manages to stagger
-to his feet. The law of England will not allow his counsel to speak
-for him. Drawing a paper from his bosom, and wiping away the tears
-that stream from his eyes, he adjusts his glasses. Then, in a clumsy,
-insincere manner, like a schoolboy’s recitation, he begins to read
-a long apology. It is apparent that he has not written the speech
-himself, and it makes no impression. Commencing with a complaint
-against the false and libellous accounts in the press, he sketches
-the history of the Berners Street Bank in order to show that it has
-received the benefit of the whole of his forgeries; describing how he
-alone has borne the burden of the business and the anxiety of perilous
-speculations, while his partners have given him no assistance. All his
-frauds were accomplished to cover commercial losses, the withdrawal
-of borrowed capital, and the overdrafts of two of his colleagues. To
-every one of the charges of prodigality he offers an emphatic denial.
-In conclusion, he makes a pathetic vindication of his conduct towards
-his wife, declaring that not only are the statements published in the
-newspapers false, but that she has had always the best of feeling
-towards him.
-
-Although just and merciful, the address of the judge is hostile to the
-prisoner, and the jury, who retire at ten minutes to three, return in
-less than a quarter of an hour with a verdict of guilty. Exhausted
-with his long ordeal, poor Fauntleroy is incapable of exhibiting
-emotion. A vacant expression is stamped on his pallid features, and
-when Justice Park tells him that the trial is over he sinks listlessly
-into his chair. Raising him in his arms, Governor Wontner supports him
-from the dock.
-
-On the following Tuesday, when the convict is brought up to hear his
-doom in the New Court, Messrs Broderick and Alley move an arrest of
-judgment on certain technical points of law. Justice Park, who is said
-to have been acquainted with the prisoner, does not attend, but neither
-Baron Garrow nor the Recorder will accept the empty but ingenuous
-arguments of counsel. The prisoner reads a paper, stating that when he
-committed the forgeries he had expected to repay the money when his
-house prospered. Thus he begs for mercy from the Crown. Sentence of
-death is the reply.
-
-After the publication of Fauntleroy’s defence, the press attacks--as
-no doubt Jaggers Harmer had foreseen--are turned against the unlucky
-partners. All the statements of the condemned man find acceptance, like
-the protests of every criminal, and it is believed that his colleagues
-must be guilty of complicity in the frauds. From _The Times_ comes a
-demand that Messrs Marsh, Stracey, and Graham shall be examined before
-the Privy Council! A petition for reprieve is promoted by the creditors
-of the Berners Street house, on the plea that Fauntleroy’s evidence
-is necessary to elucidate the intricate accounts. Another lies at the
-office of Harmer’s paper, the _Weekly Dispatch_.
-
-Condemned convicts are quartered still, and for many years afterwards,
-in the part of the prison known as the Press Yard--a walled quadrangle,
-where they are allowed to herd together indiscriminately during certain
-hours, adjacent to a three-storied building containing a day-room
-and the cells in which they are locked at night. Being a person of
-consequence, the miserable banker does not share this ignominy, but
-returns to the same apartment that he had occupied before his trial.
-Since the use of fetters had been abolished in Newgate, he is not
-required to endure even the ‘light manacles’ which some of the papers
-state he is wearing.
-
-Remaining faithful to the end, although so deeply wronged, his poor
-wife is a constant visitor. His brother John, a London solicitor, and
-his fifteen-year-old son, reported variously as being educated at
-Winchester and Westminster (afterwards at Skinner’s, Tonbridge), come
-frequently to the prison. The beautiful Maria Fox, a mere schoolgirl
-when first she became his mistress, and who appears to be deeply
-attached to her protector, brings her two baby daughters to Newgate.
-Few men in their last hours have witnessed more terrible examples of
-the ruin they have wrought than the weak and self-indulgent Henry
-Fauntleroy.
-
-Gentle Mr Baker, the white-haired layman of the map office in the
-Tower, whose work in the foul dungeon was scarcely less admirable
-than that of Elizabeth Fry, seems to be more successful in winning
-the affections of the condemned man than Ordinary Cotton; and the
-efforts of this good Samaritan are aided by a clergyman from Peckham,
-named Springett, to whom Fauntleroy had been introduced by a friend.
-These two are his constant companions during the remainder of his
-imprisonment. Most of his old associates prove loyal, in spite of his
-infamy and disgrace, for the fearful penalty of the forger is thought
-to atone for the greatest of frauds.
-
-Meanwhile, exertions for a reprieve continue. The condemned banker is
-not included in the Recorder’s report on the 20th of November at a
-meeting of the Council, over which the King is said to have presided,
-and the case is argued twice before the Judges on the 23rd and 24th of
-the month. George IV., the only one of the four who was a gentleman,
-a scholar, or a man of artistic taste, the only one whose foolish
-egotism did not embroil the country in a costly and bloody war, was
-also the only one with a merciful heart. His first great fault, for
-which neither contemporaries nor posterity have forgiven him, was
-infidelity to a dull, silly, uncleanly wife, whom he was compelled to
-marry against his will, and who was nothing loth to pay him back in his
-own coin. His next, that, like the Duke of Wellington and his brother
-William, he was a lion among the ladies. George IV. is inclined to save
-Fauntleroy from the scaffold, just as he wished to save all except the
-murderer.
-
-Every effort fails, however, and on Wednesday night, after a meeting
-of the Privy Council, the Recorder sends his report to Newgate. At
-half-past six the Rev. Cotton, whose duty it is to break the news of
-their fate to the prisoners, proceeds to Fauntleroy’s room. The banker,
-who is reading, looks up as the Ordinary enters, and, observing that he
-is deeply affected, “Ah, Mr Cotton, I see how it 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 more concerned for the doom
-of Joseph Harwood--a lad of eighteen, condemned to die the next morning
-for stealing half a crown from the pocket of a drunken Irishman--than
-for his own dismal situation. Worn out with suspense, he does not awake
-until a late hour on Thursday, and thus sleep spares him the anguish of
-hearing the awful bell that is added to the torments of those who go to
-the scaffold innocent of murder.
-
-On Friday, Miss Fox comes to bid him farewell, bringing with her, so
-_The Times_ reports, “two lovely babes, both girls, of the ages of
-eighteen months and three years, and both also in deep mourning.”
-Another occasion, indeed, for the modern reader to exclaim--“Cruel,
-like the grinding of human hearts under millstones.” One of that time
-thinks so--Edmund Angelini, a crazy teacher of languages, who the same
-day makes application to the Lord Mayor that he may be allowed to mount
-the scaffold instead of Fauntleroy.
-
-On Saturday, the miserable wife pays her last visit. Previously she
-has made a desperate attempt to reach implacable Peel--fainting in his
-hall--which brings from the Home Secretary “a kind message.” Afterwards
-she strives to speak with Lady Conyngham, who pleads inability to
-assist, conscious, no doubt, that although she can mould divine right,
-her charms are powerless against the incorruptible calico-printer.
-Angelini, still filled with lust for the rope, but whose logic has made
-no impression on the Lord Mayor, comes hammering at Newgate door, and
-succeeds in gaining an interview with Ordinary Cotton, whom, perhaps,
-he regards--judging by appearances--as Jack Ketch’s commanding officer.
-
-With the Sabbath comes gala-day and the ‘condemned sermon’ The partners
-of Jaggers Harmer, by name Forbes and Mayhew, are humane enough to
-sit with Fauntleroy in the ostentatious sable pew reserved for doomed
-convicts, and the good Samaritans Baker and Springett, supporting their
-charge with kind hands, take their seats with the dismal company.
-Abductor Wakefield has left a graphic picture of an entertainment
-similar to this. The rude, unsightly chapel, near akin in more than
-appearance to the dissecting-room in Old Surgeons’ Hall, and with no
-more semblance of holiness than the court at Bow Street, is packed
-with prisoners, gay and careless sight-seers, the pomp of sheriffdom
-and attendant lackeys. Hymns are bellowed, in hideous blasphemy,
-beseeching divine mercy to show good example to the creatures it has
-moulded in its own image. Prayers are mumbled, and heeded as little by
-the gallows-gazing throng as the showman’s horn by children who pant
-eagerly for the puppet-show. The hangman’s prologue--the sermon--is
-what all desire, and everything else is of no account. At last the Rev.
-Cotton, smug and resolute in white gown, mounts the lofty pulpit, and
-the Sheriffs attempt to screw their courage to face the ordeal. The
-Ordinary is in his finest form. On the previous Sunday he had shattered
-the nerves of the boy Harwood, and had sent ‘a female’--condemned to
-die for a paltry theft--into hysterics a fortnight ago. Scenes like
-these make the condemned sermon attractive. To-day the discourse is
-a stupid plagiarism of the Jacobite doctrine of passive resistance,
-but the bank’s charter, and not divine right, is Cotton’s fetish.
-While lauding the humanity of “the greatest commercial establishment
-in the world,” he displays his want of accuracy and legal knowledge
-by praising the directors for having replaced the stolen investments,
-as they had not yet done, but were bound by law to do. “I deprecate
-that feeling,” he declaims, “which is artfully and improperly excited
-in favour of those who have no extraordinary claim to mercy. When
-monstrous crimes have been committed we have a right to call for
-judgment on criminals, and to consign them to the fate the law demands.
-Offences are sometimes brought to light which require the most severe
-chastisement the law can inflict, and discoveries of such a nature
-have been made in reference to the unhappy individual to whom I shall
-more particularly address myself,” etc., etc. Upon the limp, shrinking
-figure in the large black pew, whose poor throbbing brain is pierced
-through and through by the barbed words of the holy man, all eyes are
-turned, save a few blinded with tears, or those wretches of both sexes
-who testify by sobs and howls that a like fate is their portion. Even
-in the leathern faces and soulless eyes of the grim turnkeys there
-glimmers a tiny spark of emotion. It is pleasant to remember that
-the Rev. Cotton, harmless and worthy gentleman in other respects,
-received strong censure from those in authority for his eloquence at
-the expense of Fauntleroy, and was accused of “harrowing the feelings
-of the prisoner unnecessarily.” Still, it would have been wiser to have
-attacked the system rather than the man.
-
-Less gruesome even than the loathsome chapel is the condemned cell on
-the fatal night. All day the doomed banker has been calm and resigned,
-bidding adieu to his brother and his son, and explaining to his
-solicitors intricate details in the books of the bank. Late in the
-evening Mr Wontner comes to visit him as usual, and tries to persuade
-him to take something to eat, but the wretched man protests he ‘loathed
-food’ For hours he continues to pace the room, leaning on the arm of Mr
-Springett. Although he declares that he shall never sleep until after
-that ‘awful moment’ about three o’clock he is induced to lie upon the
-bed. The clergyman, who leaves the chamber for a few moments, finds
-him, when he returns, sitting by the fire and greatly terrified. Early
-in the morning he is able to accept a cup of tea and a biscuit. Before
-six o’clock Baker has resumed his work of mercy, and a little later
-conscientious Ordinary Cotton joins the sad company. Neat and precise
-as ever, the forger has made as careful a toilet as if he was to attend
-a social gathering, attired in a suit of black, with knee-breeches,
-silk stockings and dress shoes, and a white handkerchief around his
-neck. To Mr Baker he gives a few pounds to distribute among the needy
-people in the prison, and leaves a ring for Mrs Harris, the wife of the
-turnkey, to whom, and also to her husband, he gives thanks for their
-kindness.
-
-Fauntleroy is spared a visit to the Press Yard, or to the adjacent
-apartment, where the manacles of prisoners are knocked off previous to
-the march to the scaffold. About 7.30 they conduct him to the ‘Upper
-Condemned Room’ and here his favourite hymn is sung--“God moves in a
-mysterious way”--and he partakes of the sacrament. From the numerous
-conflicting reports it may be gathered that Sheriff Brown and his
-ghastly train--for Alderman Key did not care to be present--attend
-their victim at a quarter to eight. At the end of the long stone
-chamber, dimly lighted by two candles, a small group is huddled before
-the fire--the Rev. Cotton administering platitudes, Baker and Springett
-on each side of the prisoner with their arms linked in his. Fauntleroy
-is standing firmly in easy pose, although his senses seem benumbed
-as if under the influence of a narcotic, and he bows slightly to the
-Sheriff, who addresses him in a few kindly words. The Ordinary--clever
-stage-manager--seizes the opportunity to draw the criminal a pace
-or two apart, and the officers, taking the signal, come behind, and
-commence to place their ropes around his arms. For a moment he seems
-terrified, and like a hunted animal shrinks for refuge to his two
-faithful friends, who gently place his hands across his breast, while
-the attendants pinion his elbows with their cords.
-
-The clock of St Sepulchre--ominous name!--strikes the hour. With a
-solemn inclination of his head towards the convict the Sheriff moves
-forward, followed by the white-robed Cotton. Then comes the hapless
-banker, supported by Baker and Springett. With tightly closed eyes and
-mechanical 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 funeral march to
-the grave, down cold, steep stairs and along damp, cavernous windings,
-amidst a gloom made more fearful by the red glare of scanty lamps, the
-procession crawls onward. As it reaches the gate of the long corridor
-leading into the high, square lobby, from whence the Debtors’ Door
-opens upon the street, the Ordinary commences the service for the
-dead. At the sound of the harsh words the wretched sufferer starts,
-and clasps and unclasps his hands. No other sign of emotion marks his
-bearing; and even when the boom of the passing bell smites the startled
-ears of his companions, and their footsteps, as though stayed, pause
-for a moment involuntarily, he shows no sign of consciousness.
-
-Across the lofty stone hall, and under the gate of the slaughter-house,
-the Sheriff and the Ordinary pass onward. There is a rush of chill,
-moist air through the open door, the bare wooden stairs reverberate
-with the tread of feet, and in another moment Fauntleroy, still
-supported by his friends, is standing upon the platform in the open
-street beneath the frowning wall of Old Bailey. Instantly every head
-in the dense crowd is uncovered. Yet this is not a token of respect
-for a dying man, but a time-honoured custom, so that the view of those
-in the rear may not be obscured. With eyes still closed, and his face
-turned towards Newgate Street, Fauntleroy moves under the cross-bar.
-Physical exhaustion is fast conquering him, and the officials hasten
-their task. In a moment the cap is slipped over his head, while Baker,
-accustomed to these scenes, speaks to him in earnest prayer. The halter
-is placed round his neck, and the loathly creature, whose expert hands
-have finished pawing their victim, glides swiftly from the scaffold.
-The Rev. Cotton continues to read from his book, but his eyes steal
-sideways furtively, and he throws a glance of meaning upon the man who
-has descended. An instant later, the Ordinary passes a handkerchief
-across his lips. It is the signal! There is a crash of falling timber,
-and to those in the street Fauntleroy appears to drop through the
-platform as far as his knees, and hangs swaying from the strong black
-beam which holds the cord that is gripping him by the throat. The
-bowstring of the unspeakable Turk is a more artistic but not a more
-cruel death.
-
-The performance was an immense success, for a more stupendous throng
-had never gathered round the black walls of Newgate. Over one hundred
-thousand persons were said to have witnessed the entertainment, and
-reserved seats in the houses commanding a view of Debtors’ Door
-had been booked far in advance. At the ‘King of Denmark’ in the
-Old Bailey the sum of fourteen shillings was charged for a place;
-while at Wingrave’s eating-house and at Luttman’s, which were
-exactly opposite ‘the drop’ the price was as high as one pound.
-“Many respectable-looking females,” says the _Morning Post_, “were
-present at the windows, all attired in deep black.” A line of large
-waggons, hackney-coaches and cabriolets, all of which reaped a rich
-harvest, stretched from the corner of Giltspur Street and Newgate to
-Skinner’s Street, Snowhill, and every housetop was overflowing with
-holiday-makers.
-
-It was a bitterly cold morning, with icy rain-storms and a chill
-mist, so the resolute thousands thoroughly deserved the enjoyment for
-which they set at defiance all the ills of the flesh. Most careful
-precautions were taken to avoid a repetition of the Haggerty-Holloway
-tragedy, when the mob saved James Botting--that worthy soul whose
-latter days were distressed by visions of ‘parties’ in nightcaps with
-their heads on one side--an infinite deal of trouble by trampling
-to death some fifty of its fellows. Six huge barriers stretched
-across Newgate Street at the corner of the prison, and there were two
-intermediate ones, to break the press, between that place and the
-scaffold; more were erected at the Ludgate Hill termination of Old
-Bailey, and within the barricade around the fatal platform were four
-hundred constables.
-
-[Illustration: _CATNACH’S BROADSIDE OF FAUNTLEROY’S EXECUTION._]
-
-Sad to relate, the object-lesson was a failure in one instance, for
-Henry Norman, a fine-looking lad of fifteen, was charged at the
-Guildhall the next morning with picking a pocket, the owner of which
-was gloating over the spectacle of the strangled banker. It speaks
-highly for the integrity of our modern police force that, in these days
-of exclusive hangings, a nimble-fingered Robert has never tried to
-filch the watch of an impressionable Under-Sheriff. Or if he has, the
-public has not heard of it.
-
-In these record-breaking times it is a common occurrence for a trusted
-attorney to embezzle half a million pounds, but before the achievements
-of Henry Fauntleroy all previous forgeries sink into insignificance.
-Poor Dodd surrendered all he stole, and Wynne Ryland’s fraud was, in
-its way, as artistic a performance as those of Thomas Chatterton, while
-a brief career of crime--as in the case of Henry Savary of Bristol, who
-was lucky enough to escape the gallows--ruined the brothers Perreau.
-James Bolland and John Rouvelett were low-born fellows; and although
-the public welcomed each as a first-class criminal, neither gained
-the same prestige as a forger of gentle birth. In a small way, Henry
-Cock, the lawyer, anticipated the Berners Street frauds, and two other
-cases bear some resemblance. Henry Weston, a man of good family and
-social position, who was hanged at the Old Bailey on the 6th of June
-1796, disposed of stocks amounting to twenty-five thousand pounds in
-a similar manner to Fauntleroy; and Joseph Blackburn, one of the most
-respected of Leeds attorneys, who suffered a lingering death at York on
-the 8th of April 1815, committed innumerable frauds for a great number
-of years by transferring and altering the denominations of the old
-familiar blue stamps.
-
-“Fauntleroy’s doom was so thoroughly recognised as well merited,”
-writes Mr Thornbury, sternly, about forty years after the event, “that
-although in 1832 every other kind of forger was exempted by law from
-the gallows, the hands of the hangman still hovered over the forger of
-wills and powers of attorney to transfer stock.” Yet, since the penalty
-was never inflicted, this argument appears superfluous.
-
-Fauntleroy certainly is the prince of forgers, as truly as Jack
-Sheppard is the greatest of prison-breakers and George Barrington the
-finest genius among pickpockets. Although driven to crime in the first
-instance by moral cowardice and craving for self-indulgence, he must
-have possessed an almost Napoleonic confidence that his abilities would
-conquer misfortune. Too proud to surrender the terrible struggle, he
-refused to adopt the easy alternative of flight to France with his
-ill-gotten gains. When one tries to realise the stupendous task of
-manipulating figures of such magnitude for so many years, the brain
-reels. The regular payment of huge dividends lest the victims should
-become aware of their loss, the constant replacement of stock when
-discovery seemed to threaten, the repeated buying and selling in
-order to rob Peter to-day to pay Paul to-morrow, the daily juggling
-with the books, and adjustment of balances, added to the incessant
-vigilance lest the errors of a few figures should mean betrayal to
-partners or clerks--all these wonderful transactions show an example
-of mathematical legerdemain such as the world has seldom seen. When it
-is borne in mind that the man was playing for nearly ten years with
-sums amounting in the aggregate to half a million sterling, his title
-to the incomparable forger of all time cannot be challenged. But like
-many another who has contributed to the public amusement, his memory
-soon faded from the minds of all save his creditors. Scarcely had the
-curtain been rung down on the tragedy of Fauntleroy, when it rose again
-upon the entrancing drama of accommodating Miss Foote and wayward Mr
-‘Pea-green’ Hayne.
-
-Occasionally, but not often, we hear mention of the banker’s name, and
-there was a recent reference to it in one of the delightful novels of
-Anthony Hope.
-
-“It is no longer a capital offence,” declares ribald Arty Kane,
-referring to forgery, and addressing charming Peggy Ryle; “you won’t be
-hanged in silk knee-breeches like Mr Fauntleroy.”
-
-
-_Part II.--Some Details of the Forgeries._
-
-[Sidenote: The Berners Street bankruptcy.]
-
-No complete balance-sheet of the Marsh-Stracey bankruptcy appears
-to exist. The books of the firm seem to have baffled both the
-Commissioners and the assignees; and so artfully had Fauntleroy
-concealed his frauds, that even skilled accountants did not succeed
-in unravelling the whole of their mysteries. Contemporary newspapers
-furnish many important clues, but their statements, when not
-conflicting, are neither lucid nor exhaustive. Yet, although many
-details must remain obscure, it is possible to form a rough conception
-of the result.
-
-[Sidenote: The position of the bankrupts.]
-
-Since we know that the first dividend of 3s. 4d. in the pound
-(distributed to the creditors on the 7th of February 1825) absorbed
-a sum of £92,486, it is clear that Messrs Marsh, Stracey & Company
-required a grand total of £554,916 to pay twenty shillings in the
-pound. Practically these figures are substantiated by the preliminary
-accounts presented at the meeting of the Commissioners on the 18th of
-December 1824, which state that the claims against the firm--excluding
-any liability to the Bank of England--amount to £554,148.
-
-This estimate, however, is the only one of any accuracy made at the
-time, for the assets expected to be realised fell very short of the
-original calculation. A second dividend of 3s. 4d. was received by
-the creditors on the 30th of August 1825, and between that date and
-the appointment of the official assignee a further sum of £46,243 was
-distributed. Thus the total of the first three dividends--which were
-equivalent to 8s. 4d. in the pound--amounts to £231,215.
-
-The bankruptcy return of Patrick Johnson (official assignee), published
-in 1839, shows that assets were collected subsequently amounting to
-£160,930, and thus the creditor side of the Berners Street ledger
-appears to have reached a total of £392,150.
-
-From this balance of £160,930--realised by the official assignee after
-the payment of the first three dividends--further distributions of 5d.
-and 1s. (being 9s. 9d. in the pound in all) were made respectively on
-the 23rd of December 1833 and the 9th of September 1835, and absorbed
-further sums of £11,560, 15s. and £27,745, 16s.
-
-During September 1835 the claim of the Bank of England against Messrs
-Marsh, Stracey & Company was compromised for a payment of £95,000
-in cash; and a further sum of £11,000 for the expenses of working
-the Commission of Bankruptcy from the 16th of September 1824 to the
-end of the year 1833 must also be deducted. Therefore a balance of
-£15,628--less any further costs--appears to have remained for payment
-of a final dividend. Although many of the newspapers state that this
-was made on the 7th of October 1837, unfortunately none of them give
-any particulars. Yet it may be conjectured that the unfortunate
-customers of the Berners Street Bank, after waiting for thirteen years,
-could not have received more than 10s. 6d. in the pound.
-
-The following rough balance-sheet will explain the above account:--
-
- _Dr._ _Cr._
- First div. 3s. 4d., Feb. 7, First div., £92,486 0
- 1825, £92,486 0 Second div., 92,486 0
- Second div. 3s. 4d., Aug. Third div., 46,243 0
- 30, 1825, 92,486 0 Received by the official
- Third div. 1s. 8d., (paid assignee at 84 Basinghall
- before Dec. 28, 1832), 46,243 0 Street from Dec. 28,
- Fourth div. 5d., Dec. 23, 1832, to Oct 7, 1837, 160,930 0
- 1833, 11,560 15 /
- Fifth div. 1s., Sept. 9, /
- 1835, 27,745 16 /
- Bank of England, Sept. /
- 1835, 95,000 0 /
- Expenses of Administration /
- up to Dec. 24, 1833, 11,000 0 /
- Balance (including all costs /
- from Dec. 24, 1833, to /
- Oct. 7, 1837, and out of /
- which the final dividend /
- was made on Oct. 7, /
- 1837,) 15,628 9 /
- ----------- -----------------------
- £392,150 0 £392,150 0
- ----------- -----------
-
-[Sidenote: The private estates of the partners.]
-
-The private estates of Messrs Stracey and Graham paid twenty shillings
-in the pound before the end of 1833; and upon that of Mr Marsh, the
-senior partner, who appears to have been indebted to the firm for a
-loan of £73,000, excluding his overdraft on his private account, a
-distribution of 17s. 6d. had been made before 1834. Little was received
-on Fauntleroy’s estate, as it was claimed almost entirely by the
-creditors of the Berners Street Bank.
-
-[Sidenote: Losses under Fauntleroy’s management.]
-
-It is now possible to form an estimate of the extent to which Messrs
-Marsh, Stracey & Company were defaulters, and what were the losses
-under the Fauntleroy régime. The total receipts set against the claims
-of the creditors and the money stolen from the Bank of England, show a
-deficiency of £522,980. Thus:--
-
- _Dr._ _Cr._
- Claims of the creditors (to pay Total receipts £392,150
- 20s. in the £) £554,916 Deficiency 522,980
- Gross loss of the Bank 360,214
- -------- --------
- £915,130 £915,130
- -------- --------
-
-[Sidenote: How the losses were incurred.]
-
-Although it would be difficult, with any degree of accuracy, to
-apportion under the separate charges this adverse balance of over
-half a million pounds, and although much must be left to conjecture,
-it is possible to explain some of the ways in which this vast sum was
-dissipated. At the outset, the suggestion--arising out of one of the
-pleas of Fauntleroy, and believed at the time--that the overdraft
-on loans to two of the partners was responsible for a deficit of
-£100,000, is refuted by the fact that both Messrs Marsh and Graham
-refunded eventually their obligations to the full extent. In like
-manner, the belief that large sums were lost owing to the necessity of
-reinvesting constantly the various stocks sold by Fauntleroy in order
-to avoid detection, overlooks the fact that, on the other hand, these
-transactions must have afforded similar opportunities for making a
-profit. It is probable that many such losses did occur; but since we
-may believe that the Berners Street Bank prior to the forgeries was
-earning an income of £7000 a year, it is likely that such an astute
-manager as Henry Fauntleroy would be able to cancel many of these
-losses through reinvestment by the profits he earned on the immense
-capital he had secretly appropriated.
-
-[Sidenote: (_a_) Loss of £160,000 in building speculations.]
-
-[Sidenote: (_b_) £90,000 lost by paying dividends on the stolen stocks.]
-
-Although the forger’s estimate of the result of his building
-speculations is extravagant, the newspapers of the 20th of December
-1824 make it clear that the Berners Street house must have lost in this
-manner £160,000. It is certain also that immense sums were absorbed
-by the payment of dividends to the proprietors whose stocks had been
-stolen. Nearly £7000 per annum must have been required for this
-purpose from the year 1816, and the sum would accumulate at compound
-interest, until, as some say, an annual fund of £16,000 was required.
-Setting aside all excessive calculations, we have the great authority
-of the historian of the Bank of England that £9000 to £10,000 a year
-was thus expended during the progress of the forgeries. Further than
-this, notwithstanding that the partners in the bankrupt firm were
-not entitled to any fraction of profit, the testimony of almost the
-entire press credits each of them with receiving an income of over
-£3000. At the examination of William Marsh, reported in the newspapers
-of the 1st of March 1825, it was proved that he was indebted on his
-private account for an overdraft of £26,000. As there is no reason to
-believe that Mr Stracey or Mr Graham had enjoyed a smaller income, a
-further deficit of nearly £80,000 is the result. And finally, as will
-be shown, there is an overwhelming weight of evidence to prove that
-the iniquitous Henry Fauntleroy, during the nineteen years he was a
-partner, dissipated at least £100,000. In addition, the repayment of
-the capital of Sir James Sibbald (who died the 17th of September 1819),
-which formed a large portion of £64,000--the capital of the firm in
-1814--would swell the adverse balance still further. Leaving this
-out of the question, the facts stated above explain the deficit of
-£430,000; and with the material at our disposal any further solution
-would involve a more elaborate use of the methods of conjecture.
-
-[Sidenote: (_c_) Loss of £80,000 through payments to Messrs Marsh,
-Stracey & Graham.]
-
-[Sidenote: (_d_) Fauntleroy spent £100,000.]
-
-[Sidenote: To what extent did Fauntleroy participate in the proceeds of
-his forgeries?]
-
-When Fauntleroy made his famous declaration from the dock, he was
-endeavouring to refute the extravagant assertion that he had spent a
-sum of over four hundred thousand pounds in riotous living; and thus,
-led to the opposite extreme, he made the mistake of attempting to
-convey an erroneous impression of his frugality. Thus the statement
-that he had never enjoyed any advantage beyond that in which all his
-partners had participated seems to hint economy; but as Mr Marsh had
-overdrawn his loan account by £70,000, the proposition is irrelevant
-to the argument. Then, again, he confesses that the Brighton villa
-cost £400, but he is not candid enough to admit the expenses of his
-other establishments. The stern reality--that a thief cannot justify
-the expenditure of one pennyworth of stolen property--never entered
-his mind. Utterly false, however, is his answer to the charges of
-profligacy--outrageous though they were.
-
-“It has been cruelly asserted,” he declares, “that I fraudulently
-invested money in the Funds to answer the payment of annuities
-amounting to £2200 settled upon females. I never did make such
-investment.”
-
-No single tenet in Father Garnet’s doctrine of equivocation
-puts greater stress upon the truth. Whoever made the necessary
-investments--and the forger was shrewd enough not to let the
-transaction appear in his own name--there is certain evidence that
-he provided lavishly for his mistress Maria Fox. The lie is merely
-concealed in subtle language.
-
-“Neither at home nor abroad,” continues Fauntleroy, “have I any
-investment, nor is there one shilling secretly deposited by me in the
-hands of any human being.”
-
-Such an assertion goes far beyond the sophistry of the most misguided
-seventeenth-century Jesuit, for the Commissioners of Bankruptcy were
-soon to discover that he had squandered thousands on his friend Mrs
-Disney. His one denial in unequivocal terms is a deliberate falsehood.
-
-“Equally ungenerous and untrue it is,” the forger proceeds, “to charge
-me with having lent to loose and disorderly persons large sums of money
-which never have and never will be repaid. I lent no sums but to a very
-trifling amount, and those were advanced to valued friends.”
-
-No doubt this last declaration had reference to the rumour that he had
-squandered money upon the notorious Mary Ann Kent, ‘Mother Bang’--who
-figures as ‘Corinthian Kate’ in _Life in London_--and its truth or
-falsehood must depend upon the exact definition of the term ‘large
-sums’ The criminal who had dealings with huge balance-sheets, naturally
-had a magnificent sense of proportion.
-
-[Sidenote: Fauntleroy’s expenditure.]
-
-Fortunately, there is evidence of some of the ‘prodigal extravagance’
-that was laid at his door. The total loss of the Bank of England owing
-to the forgeries was £360,214, and the original claim of the directors
-against the Berners Street establishment was £250,000. So it seems that
-the balance was believed to have been spent wholly by Fauntleroy, and
-not placed to the credit of the partnership. The sworn testimony of Mr
-Wilkinson, an accountant employed by the assignees to examine the books
-of the bankrupts--although inclined to favour Messrs Marsh, Stracey &
-Company--supports this assumption in the most decisive manner. Thus, in
-spite of his defence, it would appear that during his management the
-forger appropriated for himself a sum of over £100,000. These figures,
-moreover, are endorsed by the fair-minded James Scarlett, who made the
-same statement as Wilkinson in his speech for the defendants in the
-case of Stone and Others _v._ Marsh, Stracey & Company, which was heard
-on the 2nd of March 1826. To disregard such unanimous testimony is
-impossible.
-
-[Sidenote: How did Fauntleroy spend the money?]
-
-[Sidenote: (_a_) Domestic expenditure £2000 a year.]
-
-It is quite credible that for a period of seventeen years (from 1807
-to 1824) a man of Fauntleroy’s habits should expend an average income
-of £5000. Had each of his three establishments--in Berners Street, in
-Brighton, and at Lambeth--cost him as much as his moderate estimate of
-one--and none of them could have been less expensive--the total reaches
-£1200 a year. In addition to this, it is known that he allowed an
-annuity of £400 to his wife. Thus, as he kept horses and carriages both
-at London and the seaside, his lowest annual domestic expenditure must
-have been at least £2000, or £34,000 over the period. Although the
-house at Fulham was one of his later extravagances, there were others
-that had taken its place previously.
-
-[Sidenote: (_b_) Freehold property £10,000.]
-
-The villa, land and furniture at Brighton, sold after his death,
-realised nearly £7000--the residence alone is said to have cost him
-this amount; and since he was the owner of a mews and six houses in
-Bryanston Square, and two other houses in York Street, his freehold
-property, on a moderate estimate, must have been worth £10,000.
-
-[Sidenote: (_c_) Maria Fox £10,000.]
-
-From the reports of the trial of Maria Fox at the Lewes Assizes in
-April 1827, we gather that Fauntleroy settled on his youthful mistress
-£6000, besides an annuity of £150, “of which the assignees,” said John
-Adolphus, her counsel, “through the advice of a worthy gentleman, Mr
-Bolland, were not so cruel as to deprive her.” Thus another £10,000 is
-added to the banker’s debt.
-
-[Sidenote: (_d_) Mrs J. C. Disney, £10,000.]
-
-During the month of December 1824 the London papers are full of
-insinuations with regard to Fauntleroy’s improper connection with a Mrs
-James C. Disney, and the letter from the lady’s husband, which appeared
-in the _New Times_ on the 24th of December, substantiates unwittingly
-much of the truth of the story. It is certain that the creditors of
-Marsh, Stracey & Company recovered large sums from this Mrs Disney, who
-had been the recipient of Fauntleroy’s bounty to an extent exceeding
-the limits of platonic love, and according to _The Times_ the amount
-refunded was £10,000. Although many reports state that she received
-twice this sum, it is sufficient for the purpose to accept the lesser
-figures.
-
-Thus there is almost complete evidence that Fauntleroy’s expenditure
-under three heads--domestic expenses, freehold property, and the two
-mistresses above mentioned--absorbed a sum of £64,000. It is not
-unreasonable to suppose that the man who could squander this money in
-less than seventeen years, while his firm was in so dire a plight,
-was capable of spending double the amount. It is improbable that his
-various establishments cost him no more than £2000 a year; and if
-_The Times_ of the 1st of December is to be believed, he confessed
-that he had enjoyed a very much larger income. The age of pinks and
-bloods was as extravagant as our own, and many luxuries of life were
-more expensive. Fauntleroy was a patron of ‘Corinthian Kate’; and if
-Pierce Egan is an authority, we may conjecture--in spite of her denial
-to Joseph Parkins--that the unfortunate banker found her an expensive
-luxury. Like the great man whom he took a pride in fancying he
-resembled, it is notorious that the forger had a weakness for what his
-contemporaries termed ‘ladybirds’ and was in this respect a dissipated
-and worthless fellow. Moreover, he was celebrated for his costly
-dinners and rare wines--there is the grisly story of the friend who
-urged him as a last request to tell where he purchased his exquisite
-curaçoa--and he seems to have denied himself no luxury. Although it is
-not possible to give a complete explanation of Fauntleroy’s expenditure
-during the years of his race to ruin, it is satisfactory to know some
-portion of the details, and they show, through all possible coats of
-whitewash, that he was guilty of the most prodigal extravagance.
-
-[Sidenote: The conduct of the partners.]
-
-Since the partners of the Berners Street Bank were censured for gross
-negligence in two courts of law, it is not surprising that their
-creditors should have treated them with intolerance. At first the
-public had regarded them as unfortunate dupes, and it was not until
-Fauntleroy had made his defence that a popular outcry arose. It seemed
-incredible that three men of the world should have thrown the heavy
-burden of managing a firm, weighed down by embarrassments, upon the
-shoulders of a youth of twenty-two, and equally preposterous that, in
-the face of losses reaching into hundreds of thousands, the young
-man’s colleagues should have remained easy, trusting, asleep. Yet, in
-spite of the onslaught of the London press, and the clamour of the
-noisy creditors, headed by Joseph Parkins and his fellows, beneath
-the roof of the ‘Boar and Castle’ and the ‘Freemasons’ Tavern,’ it
-is certain that Messrs Marsh, Stracey & Graham were innocent of all
-guilty complicity in their partner’s frauds. The statements that had
-aroused the storm against them proved to be baseless or exaggerated. It
-has been shown that the Berners Street Bank did not lose £270,000 in
-building speculations between 1810 and 1816, as Fauntleroy suggested,
-and to meet the loss that did occur a large sum was raised by the
-supporters of the firm, to which William Marsh contributed £40,000.
-Thus, considering the reticence of their manager, there was good reason
-why the partners should believe that they had weathered the financial
-panic which brought to ruin so many of their contemporaries.
-
-Modern commerce estimates more accurately the value of youth than the
-age of Mr Walter the Second; and as young Fauntleroy, who was one of
-the smartest bank managers in London, accepted his responsibilities
-with zest and cheerfulness, it is not surprising that he became the
-autocrat of the firm. Moreover, the juggler who could deceive the
-clerks working at his elbow day by day would have no difficulty in
-satisfying the periodical curiosity of sleeping-partners. Fat profits
-rolled into their coffers, and, like many another good easy man, they
-did not pause to look a gift horse in the mouth. Fools they were, and
-must remain, but in the end the world ceased to suspect their honour.
-
-Still, their credulity was remarkable. All three of them appear to have
-been the instruments of most of the frauds, attending at the Bank of
-England to make the transfer under the forged powers of attorney, and
-instructing brokers to dispose of the stolen stocks and bonds. In one
-particular, however, the conduct of Marsh and Stracey appeared dubious.
-On the day of Fauntleroy’s arrest the daughter of the former cashed
-a cheque for £5000, while the latter drew out over £4000 in the name
-of his father. The trick was discovered, and restitution made to the
-creditors.
-
-[Sidenote: The Bank of England’s claim.]
-
-As might be supposed, the Bank of England received little sympathy
-either from the press or from the people. The directors never disputed
-their obligation--as managers of the public debt--to refund to the
-rightful proprietors the whole of the stocks that had been stolen,
-but they made every effort to enforce their claim against the Berners
-Street firm--amounting to a quarter of a million--which they contended
-that Fauntleroy had placed to the credit of his house. It was soon made
-clear by law that Messrs Marsh, Stracey & Company were responsible to
-the stockholders, who had been defrauded by their managing partner,
-and thus were equally responsible to the Bank, whose debt was similar
-to that of the stockholders. The chief obstacle to the enforcement of
-the Bank’s claim lay in the fact that the proprietors of the stolen
-stocks were clients, and, as a natural consequence, creditors also
-of Marsh, Stracey & Company. Being aware that the directors were
-legally compelled to replace their missing Consols and Exchequer
-Bills, they raised a great clamour against the claim of the Bank, for
-naturally they perceived that if it was enforced the cash balances in
-their Berners Street pass-books would be diminished. This difficulty
-compelled the Bank to seek the consent of the Courts to permit them
-to claim from the bankrupts the lump sum that had been restored to
-the stockholders, so that it would not be necessary to bring forward
-reluctant persons to prove each separate debt. Lord Chancellor
-Lyndhurst ruled, however, that each transaction must be established to
-the satisfaction of the Commissioners of Bankruptcy in the usual way,
-and thus the Bank was driven to depend upon the stockholders. Since the
-claim of half a million was compromised for a payment of £95,000, we
-may conclude that the majority of the Berners Street creditors were not
-disposed to assist the rival claimant to a share of their dividends.
-
-[Sidenote: The transfer of stock.]
-
-Much has been written of the lax methods of transferring stock in
-vogue at the Bank of England. As the frauds were so slovenly that
-Fauntleroy’s clerks had no difficulty in detecting their employer’s
-handwriting in the signature attached to the forged power of attorney
-produced at the trial, it is plain that the crimes could not have
-continued for so many years unless a most careless system had
-prevailed. The Berners Street swindle showed that it was possible
-for any applicant with whom the clerks at the Consols Office were
-acquainted to complete the transfer of another person’s securities,
-provided only that he possessed a knowledge of the exact value of the
-particular stock he wished to appropriate. A power of attorney seems
-to have been as readily acted upon as obtained, and no comparison of
-the real owner’s signature appears to have been made. This danger was
-pointed out subsequently at a meeting of the Court of Proprietors, and
-a shareholder made the wise suggestion that when any transfer was made
-immediate notice should be sent to the proprietor of the stock.
-
-Yet checks and precautions did exist at the Bank of England in the days
-of Henry Fauntleroy. The purchasers of securities were recommended
-to protect themselves from fraud by accepting themselves--that is to
-say, by signing--all transfers of stock made to them, thus giving the
-officials of the Bank the opportunity of comparing the handwriting of
-the proprietor whenever necessary. Still, the investing public rarely
-complied with this regulation, and Fauntleroy must have been aware
-that there was no danger of detection on this account.
-
-Although forgery of such a description is more difficult in these days,
-yet prudence should neglect no safeguard that does not impede the
-business of everyday life. A signature, however much resemblance it
-has to its original, may still be a forgery, and personal attendance
-might be simulated by a bold and plausible scoundrel. The most sure
-precaution is the one suggested on the 17th of September 1824 by the
-nameless proprietor, that whenever a transfer is lodged immediate
-notice shall be sent to the holder of the stock.
-
-
-
-
-FAUNTLEROY AND THE NEWSPAPERS
-
-
-1. _The Morning Chronicle._
-
- Under the leadership of the famous John Black, this paper had
- become a somewhat fat and stodgy production, savouring of the
- ‘unco guid’ It is fierce 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 Newgate between the prisoner and his spiritual advisers
- Messrs Springett and Baker. Since this paper is not hostile
- to Fauntleroy, it is strange that it should publish (November
- 11) a vile communication from his enemy J. W. Parkins, an
- ex-Sheriff of London, in which the writer tries to show that
- the prisoner who is awaiting his trial has been a brutal
- husband. The first announcement that the Bank in Berners Street
- had suspended payment appears in the columns of the _Chronicle_
- on Monday, September 13.
-
-2. _The Morning Post._
-
- Although the _Morning Post_ makes a point of pluming itself
- on its humanity towards Fauntleroy, its attitude is wholly
- inconsistent and double-faced. Having copied from _The Times_ a
- column of disgraceful news concerning the private vices of the
- dishonest banker, it turns round and upbraids its contemporary,
- a few weeks later, for supplying the information. Foolish
- letters upon all kinds of subjects from Fauntleroy’s bitter
- enemy, J. W. Parkins--Sheriff of London 1819-20--disfigure
- this paper constantly. The _Post_ gloats over the scene at the
- Debtors’ Door, and is glad that there was no pardon.
-
-3. _The Morning Herald._
-
- This journal is opposed to the death penalty for forgery, and
- inserts several letters, urging that the convict should be
- reprieved, but it admits, after the execution, that while the
- law remained unaltered there were no special circumstances in
- the case to warrant mercy. The report of the trial on November
- 1, which holds up to ridicule the absurd and indecorous conduct
- of ex-Sheriff Parkins previous to the meeting of the Court,
- furnishes a striking proof of his malice against his former
- friend Henry Fauntleroy. During April 1823 the notorious
- Parkins made a somewhat feeble attempt to assault Mr Thwaites
- of the _Morning Herald_ in his office, which is the reason, no
- doubt, why the editor handles him so roughly.
-
-4. _The Times._
-
- The attitude of the greatest paper in the world towards the
- unfortunate banker is a black record in its history. Although
- the man was a sensualist and a forger of the highest degree,
- it is not creditable to British journalism of those days that
- a leading newspaper should take infinite pains to rake up
- every scandal of his past life, and to prejudice the public
- mind against him before he was brought to trial. A more
- deliberate attempt to condemn a man unheard has never been
- made in the press. It is amazing that an editor of the calibre
- of Thomas Barnes should have printed the article of September
- 24 and the disgraceful letter signed “T.” of September 25,
- which compares Fauntleroy to Thurtell, the cut-throat. The
- reproof administered by James Harmer on September 27, although
- fully deserved, was not sufficient to restrain the licence of
- Mr Walter’s reporters. _The Times_ proceeds to wrangle with
- the _Brighton Gazette_ as to whether the banker had been a
- libertine, and on October 9 publishes a statement about his
- lenient treatment at Coldbath Fields prison, for which it
- is compelled to apologise to Mr Vickery, the Governor. More
- innuendoes follow concerning Fauntleroy’s moral character,
- and on October 19 (before his trial!) it is reported that the
- printers at the ‘One Tun’ tavern in Covent Garden were making
- bets as to whether he would be hanged.
-
- Almost as repulsive are the leaders written after the culprit’s
- execution. “If forgery had not been capital before,” says this
- truculent journal, “the most humane legislators would have
- doubted whether, if carried to a similar extent, it should
- not be rendered capital in future.” Yet Samuel Romilly had
- been in his grave only six years, and James Mackintosh and
- William Ewart were left to continue his brave work. Finally,
- on December 4, comes a blast of thunder that Dennis or the
- editor of the _Eatanswill Gazette_ might have envied. “We are
- not anxious to extend the narrative of Mr Fauntleroy’s life
- by a description of his personal habits, but, if provoked, we
- can lay before the public such a detail of low and disgusting
- sensuality, as would appear incredible to those who were not
- as degraded in body and mind as he was. This narrative would
- involve persons who hold themselves rather high, and who have
- presumed to talk big with reference to our accounts of their
- wretched friend and associate. Let them be quiet; if we find
- that in public or private (and we have channels of information
- they dream not of) they have the impudence to disparage our
- motives or deny our statements, we will hold up their names and
- actions to public scorn and astonishment and disgust.”
-
-5. _The Morning Advertiser._
-
- This journal, then as now the organ of the licensed
- victuallers, is hostile to Fauntleroy, but moderate in the
- reports it publishes about him.
-
-6. _The New Times._
-
- As might be expected, this paper deals some nasty raps at
- that from which its editor seceded. It is very critical of
- the conduct of Fauntleroy’s partners, with whose explanations
- before the Commissioners of Bankruptcy it is dissatisfied, but
- does not make the reckless charges against them that appear
- in some journals, such as the _Sunday Times_ and _Morning
- Chronicle_.
-
-7. _The British Press._
-
- Gives more complete information than any other paper of
- the details of Marsh, Stracey & Company’s bankruptcy. The
- reports of the proceedings before the Court of Commissioners,
- and of the meetings of the Berners Street creditors, which
- are criticised at large, throw much light upon the endless
- ramifications of the Fauntleroy forgeries. This journal alone
- makes an attempt to ascertain whether the statement of the
- criminal banker was endorsed by the books of his firm. “I
- declare,” says Fauntleroy in his defence, “that all the monies
- temporarily raised by me were applied, not in one single
- instance for my own separate purposes or expenses, but in
- every case they were immediately placed to the credit of the
- house in Berners Street, and applied to the payments of the
- pressing demands upon it.... The books will confirm the truth
- of my statement ... the whole went to the general funds of the
- house.”
-
- The value of this assertion may be tested by reference
- to the columns of the _British Press_ of the following
- dates:--September 20, 29, October 6, November 13, 15, 17, 22,
- 23, 30, December 10, 13, 17, 20, 28 (1824), January 17, 19, 20,
- February 2, March 1, 19, April 11, July 25, August 31 (1825).
-
- For further particulars of the bankruptcy consult _The Times_,
- _Morning Post_, and _Morning Chronicle_ of December 24, 1833;
- and September 10 and 11, 1835. Also _John Bull_, September
- 20, 1835; the _Weekly Dispatch_, September 17, 1837; and _The
- Times_, October 7, 1837.
-
-8. _The Examiner._
-
- The statements in Fauntleroy’s defence are received with
- incredulity. “From what we hear and observe of the man,” says
- the _Examiner_, in a leading article, “we do not believe he
- would have risked his life to preserve a trading concern of
- which he had only a fourth share. We expect the truth will
- be that he began to forge to get money for himself, and was
- obliged to go on because bankruptcy would have led to his
- detection.” The leader proceeds to condemn the law of banking,
- and to attack the monopoly of the Bank.
-
-9. _The Observer._
-
- The veteran Sunday journal--which at this period was the
- property of Wm. Clement, who owned also the _Morning
- Chronicle_, and afterwards _Bell’s Life_--takes the bulk of its
- reports, like most of the weekly papers, from the columns of
- the daily press.
-
-10. _The Sunday Times._
-
- This hardy newspaper (which age cannot wither) condemns the
- criminal code that makes forgery a capital offence, and charges
- Messrs Marsh, Stracey and Graham with previous knowledge of
- their partner’s guilt. On October 10 appeared the famous letter
- from malignant ex-Sheriff Parkins, complaining that Fauntleroy
- or his partners had surrendered certain private documents which
- he had left at their bank in safe custody. In those days the
- _Sunday Times_ was under the proprietorship of its founder,
- Daniel Harvey.
-
-11. _The Englishman._
-
- A weekly paper, containing reports similar to those in the
- _Observer_.
-
-12. _Bell’s Weekly Messenger._
-
- The leading article of December 5 expresses the hope that Mr
- Fauntleroy will be the last person executed for forgery. As
- a matter of fact the Berners Street frauds postponed this
- much-desired reform, and the illogical argument of George III.
- was revived in another shape--“If Dr. Dodd is pardoned, then
- the Perreaus have been murdered.” Captain John Montgomery would
- have been hanged on July 4, 1828, for forging bank notes, had
- he not cheated the gallows by the aid of prussic acid; Joseph
- Hunton, the Quaker, suffered death at Newgate on December 8
- following, for issuing counterfeit bills of exchange; and
- 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 year 1829. After this date, although the
- capital penalty was not finally abolished until 1837, no other
- person was hanged for forgery in this country.
-
-13. _Bell’s Weekly Dispatch._
-
- This newspaper, founded in 1801--five years after his _Weekly
- Messenger_--by John Bell, the printer of the _British Poets_,
- had now become the property of James Harmer the Old Bailey
- attorney, who was Fauntleroy’s solicitor. The scathing attacks
- upon Joseph Wilfred Parkins, which appear in this journal on
- October 3, October 10 and November 14, explain the reason
- of the ‘XXX Sheriff’s’ animosity towards the unfortunate
- banker. Some time before the arrest of the forger, Parkins,
- who had a law-suit pending, requested Fauntleroy to return a
- certain cheque for £6000 that he had drawn upon his firm a
- few years previously. The reply was that, as it could not be
- found, probably it had been destroyed. On the strength of this
- statement, Parkins swore 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 amazement and consternation
- the missing piece of paper was produced in Court. In
- consequence, he not only lost his case, but was called upon to
- stand his trial for perjury on December 20 following. By some
- means or other wily James Harmer, who happened to be solicitor
- for the defendants against whom Parkins was bringing his
- action, had discovered the cheque at the Berners Street Bank
- soon after Fauntleroy’s arrest, and perceiving its importance
- to his clients, had appropriated it. Naturally, this amusing
- piece of strategy was not relished by the choleric ex-Sheriff,
- who cast most of the blame upon the shoulders of the unhappy
- banker, and pursued him to the death without mercy.
-
- The _Weekly Dispatch_ made a great effort to save the doomed
- man, and the petition for reprieve which lay at its office
- received three thousand signatures. The Rev. Cotton, Ordinary
- of Newgate, comes in for some well-deserved censure for the
- tone of his ‘Condemned Sermon’
-
-14. _Pierce Egan’s Life in London._
-
- This paper, started February 1, 1824, by the creator of _Tom
- and Jerry_, gives extracts, copies for the most part from other
- sources, and similar information to that contained in Pierce
- Egan’s account.
-
-15. _John Bull._
-
- Naturally, Theodore Hook’s paper did not miss the opportunity
- of inveighing against _The Times_ for its cruelty towards
- Fauntleroy, or of ridiculing the sanctimonious articles of the
- _Morning Chronicle_. Still, it is unjust to Mrs Fry’s friend
- and helper, the humane Mr Baker, whose work among the prisoners
- at Newgate merits the highest praise.
-
-16. _The Globe and Traveller._
-
- Condemns the ‘mischievous law’ passed in 1708 to support the
- Bank of England’s monopoly, which prevented a private banking
- establishment from being controlled by more than six partners.
- The journal contends with truth that this legislation “forces
- a business of great responsibility, which should be of entire
- security, into the hands of small firms.” The law of 1825
- altered all this.
-
-17. _The Courier._
-
- Has a weakness for drawing attention to its own propriety, in
- comparison with that of its contemporaries. Its leader on the
- evening of the execution declares that, 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
- nothing in Fauntleroy’s case to merit such interference. The
- _Courier_ was in the hands of Daniel Stuart--a great name in
- journalism--who was proprietor also of the _Morning Post_.
-
-18. _The Sun._
-
- A somewhat feeble paper, though well printed and arranged,
- edited by John Taylor. It prides itself on never printing
- anything about Fauntleroy except the proceedings before the
- magistrates.
-
-19. _The Brighton Gazette._
-
- Cudgels _The Times_ lustily, and is indignant that a mere
- London paper should presume to know more about Mr Fauntleroy’s
- seaside residence than a journal published in Brighton. About
- two years later the _Gazette_ has much to say about the
- beautiful Maria Fox (_alias_ Forbes, _alias_ Forrest, _alias_
- Rose), who had lived under the protection of the fraudulent
- banker. A retired lawyer named Barrow, who resided next door to
- the lady on the New Stein, accused her of keeping a disorderly
- house, and she was called upon to meet this charge at the Lewes
- Assizes. Although the fine advocacy of John Adolphus obtained
- a verdict of not guilty, the judge went out of his way to
- compliment the author of the prosecution. (_Vide_ the _Brighton
- Gazette_, April 5, 1827; also September 14 and 21, 1826.)
-
-20. _The Rambler’s Magazine, or Frolicsome Companion._ Printed and
-published by William Dugdale, 23 Russell Court, Drury Lane. April 1,
-1827, pp. 180-182 (_vide_ Trial of Maria Fox).
-
- The learned ‘Pisanus Fraxi’--H. S. Ashbee--whose knowledge of
- this class of literature is unrivalled, gives no description
- of this particular publication. It may be a plagiarism of
- a magazine of about the same date, and bearing an almost
- similar title (which it appears to resemble), noticed in
- _Catena Librorum Tacendorum_, p. 327. Periodicals of this name
- are almost as numerous, between the years 1782-1829, as the
- _Newgate Calendars_. The _Rambler’s Magazine_ makes two things
- evident: first, that Fauntleroy’s _chère amie_ was a “fair and
- engaging woman”; and secondly, that Mr Barrow had much cause of
- complaint.
-
-21. _The Gentleman’s Magazine_, November 1824 (part ii. p. 461);
-December 1824 (part ii. p. 580).
-
- In the December number there is a trenchant letter from the
- Earl of Normanton, condemning the criminal code. “Philosophy
- would deem it an abuse,” says he, “to punish the crime of a
- Fauntleroy in the same manner as the crime of a Thurtell.” For
- the obituary notice of William Moore Fauntleroy, the brother of
- the forger, see the _Gentleman’s Magazine_, part ii. p. 1092,
- 1803.
-
-
-NOTES ON THE FAUNTLEROY CASE
-
-NOTE I.--_Pierce Egan’s Account of the Trial of H. Fauntleroy._ Knight
-and Lacey, 1824.
-
- No one excelled the historian of the Prize Ring in this style
- of literature, and his two other similar works, the _Life of
- Samuel Denmore Hayward_ (1822), and the _Account of the Trial
- of John Thurtell_ (1824), will remain text-books for all time.
- Pierce Egan makes a note (p. 21) that Mr. Fauntleroy has never
- used a ‘slang expression’ during his imprisonment. The surprise
- indicated by this comment is natural, for, robbed of his
- italics, the author of _Life in London_ would have been left as
- naked to his enemies as Cardinal Wolsey.
-
-NOTE II.--_The Newgate Calendar._ Knapp and Baldwin (1824-28). Vol. iv.
-pp. 285-390.
-
- Accepting the statement made by most of the daily newspapers,
- this account declares that Fauntleroy was hanged for defrauding
- his wife’s family. Although this statement was made by _The
- Times_ on October 2, it was denied two days later in that
- paper, and the contradiction was published also in _Bell’s
- Weekly Messenger_, the _Globe_, and the _Courier_. Again, on
- December 4 _The Times_ repeats once more that “Miss Frances
- Young is no relation to Mrs Fauntleroy.” Considering the
- bitter rivalry that existed between the various newspapers,
- and the jealous criticism that each journal bestowed upon the
- information of its contemporaries, it is certain that if the
- assertion made by _The Times_ had been untrue--and if false it
- could have been disproved easily--its rivals would have exposed
- it with the greatest joy. Moreover, since Fauntleroy might
- have been charged with twenty other indictments, the public
- mind would have been shocked had his sister-in-law alone been
- selected as the instrument of vengeance.
-
-NOTE III.--_The Anatomy of Sleep._ Edward Binns, M.D. Churchill (1842).
-p. 282.
-
- Although such an escape was a physical impossibility to
- Fauntleroy, there is a rational explanation of the strange
- superstition--referred to in this book--that he did not die
- on the scaffold, but was resuscitated, and lived abroad for
- many years. At eight o’clock on the evening of his death the
- body was taken by the undertakers, Gale and Barnard, to their
- premises opposite Newgate prison, where the coffin was fastened
- down immediately by order of the relatives, who had reason
- to fear that the morbid--attracted by the notoriety of the
- criminal--would seek by means of a bribe to view the remains.
- The flames of rumour are set ablaze by a tiny spark, and the
- fact that no one outside the prison saw the dead body of the
- forger may have revived popular faith in a favourite belief.
- The haste, too, in sealing up the shell may have excited
- suspicion. For in later days it is certain that many persons
- cherished the idea that Fauntleroy, more lucky than Jack
- Sheppard or Dr Dodd, whose friends tried in vain to restore
- them to life, had survived his execution. _Vide_ also _Notes
- and Queries_, First Series, viii. 270, ix. 445, x. 114, 233.
- Possibly that prince of inkslingers, G. W. M. Reynolds, may
- have had the Fauntleroy legend in his mind when he drew the
- picture of the resuscitated forger in the first part of his
- obscene and scurrilous romance, _The Mysteries of the Court
- of London_. Fauntleroy was buried in the cemetery at Bunhill
- Fields on Thursday, Dec. 2.
-
-NOTE IV.--_Old Stories Retold._ By George Walter Thornbury (1867), p.
-290.
-
- Mr Walter Thornbury makes a brave and ingenious attempt to
- explain “the mystery still shrouding the great Fauntleroy
- swindle,” and “to conjecture for what purpose the dishonest
- banker preserved in a private box so carefully a suicidal
- statement of his own misdoings.” His conclusion is that
- Fauntleroy invented the lie so it should not be thought that he
- had been influenced by motives of greed, but that as time went
- on he began actually to credit the untruth, and, treasuring
- the paper for conscience’ sake, was for years “buoyed up by
- the secret excuse of an absurd and illogical revenge.” It
- is only a want of lucidity that prevented Mr Thornbury from
- unshrouding the mystery, for the explanation--the key of which
- he held in his hand--is a simple one. There was method in
- Fauntleroy’s seeming madness. The document found in his private
- box, which gave a list of his forgeries, and contained the
- footnote explaining that his motive was revenge against the
- Bank, was dated May 7, 1816. It is notorious that never in her
- history was the Old Lady of Threadneedle Street so unpopular
- as at this time. For nearly twenty years she had borne the
- odium caused by the suspension of cash payments, and by the
- alarming depreciation of paper money. In like manner, the panic
- which overthrew so many provincial houses in 1814, 1815, and
- 1816 was ascribed to her envied monopoly; and her consequent
- prosperity, owing to the demand for Bank of England notes,
- helped to increase the widespread jealousy. Never had forger
- a more splendid shield than Henry Fauntleroy. Although he had
- hoped and believed that the proceeds of his first frauds would
- enable his firm to weather the financial storm, yet if Nemesis
- should overtake him before he had struggled through the slough,
- he was justified in supposing that the Board of Directors might
- hesitate to prosecute a man who would be hailed as a popular
- champion. Indeed, had his crime been as paltry as that of
- Henry Savary, it is quite probable that the public would have
- regarded him as an intrepid enemy of the Bank’s monopoly, and
- that a like storm which compelled the financial legislation of
- 1819 and 1825 might have saved him from the scaffold. Fate
- compelled him to overreach himself, or the crafty story of
- revenge might have been believed.
-
-NOTE V.--_The History of the Catnach Press._ By Charles Hindley (1886),
-p. 73.
-
- But for the indefatigable researches of this author we should
- know little of the immortal Jemmy, who, it must be remembered,
- was the Alfred Harmsworth of his day.
-
-NOTE VI.--_Dic. Nat. Biog._
-
- Like Pierce Egan and Charles Hindley, the writer of this
- monograph states that Fauntleroy was convicted for a fraud
- upon his sister-in-law, which is the more remarkable as _The
- Times_ is cited as an authority. The name of the forger’s
- father was not Henry, but William; the arrest was made on
- September 10, not September 11; the warrant of commitment
- charged him with embezzling, not a thousand, but ten thousand
- pounds; the Berners Street Bank was not founded in 1782, but
- ten years later; the value of Miss Young’s stock was £5450;
- and Fauntleroy was committed for trial on October 19. There
- does not appear to be any authority for the assertion that the
- fraudulent transfers first began in 1815, and it would be more
- correct to say that Messrs Marsh, Stracey & Company announced
- the suspension of payment on September 13.
-
-NOTE VII.--_History of the Bank of England._ By John Francis (1847).
-Vol. i. pp. 339-345.
-
- The author of this work, relying upon the evidence of J.
- H. Palmer before a Committee of the House of Commons in
- 1832, estimates the loss of the Bank of England through the
- Fauntleroy forgeries at £360,000. Although these figures were
- correct at the time when the Governor made his statement, the
- Bank received £95,000 from Messrs Marsh, Stracey & Company
- during September 1835, in full discharge of their debt.[1]
- Thus, as the gross loss to the Bank, according to John Horsley
- Palmer, was £360,214, the actual loss appears to have been
- reduced to £265,214.
-
-NOTE VIII.--For particulars of the Berners Street Bankruptcy consult
-the following:--
-
- (_a_) _The Bank of England’s Case_ under Marsh & Co.’s
- Commission. By a Solicitor. (Lupton Relfe, 113 Cornhill. 1825.)
-
- (_b_) _The Bank of England’s Claim_ ... in reply to Mr
- Wilkinson’s Report upon the Facts. (Lupton Relfe. 1825.)
-
- (_c_) _Ryan and Moody’s Law Reports from 1823-1826._ “Stone and
- Another _v._ Marsh, Stracey & Graham.” P. 364.
-
- (_d_) _Reports of Cases determined at Nisi Prius from
- 1823-1827._ By Edward Ryan and Wm. Moody. “Hume and Another
- _v._ Bolland and Others.” P. 371.
-
- (_e_) _Cases in Bankruptcy from 1821-1828._ By Thomas Glynn and
- Robert Jameson. “Governor and Company of the Bank of England in
- the matter of Marsh, Stracey, Graham and Fauntleroy.” Vol. ii.
- pp. 363-368, 446.
-
- (_f_) _The Report of Committee of Secrecy on the Bank of
- England’s Charter_ (1832). _Vide_ Evidence of John Horsley
- Palmer (Governor). P. 9, and Appendix, p. 55.
-
- (_g_) _Returns as to Bankruptcies previous to the Act of
- Parliament, 1831._ (1839.) Vol. xliii. p. 96.
-
-[1] I wish to acknowledge, with many thanks, the kindness of Mr Kenneth
-Graham, Secretary of the Bank of England, in verifying the sum paid by
-the assignees of Marsh, Stracey & Company.
-
-
-
-
-INDEX
-
-
- Abbott, Charles, 124.
-
- Abinger, Baron, 167.
-
- Adair, Mr James, 49, 52, 53.
-
- Adair, Mr Serjeant James, 53.
-
- Adair, Dr Robert, 39, 73.
-
- Adair, Robin (origin of song), 39, 73.
-
- Adair, Mr William, 39, 40 _sq._;
- discovers his signature, 42;
- mentioned, 46, 49, 55.
-
- Addington, Dr Anthony, 17;
- Henry, 133, 140, 141, 179.
-
- Adolphus, John, 214.
-
- Ainsworth, Harrison, vii.
-
- Akerman (Governor of Newgate), his humanity, 63, 98.
-
- Albemarle, second Earl, 39.
-
- Alley, Mr (counsel for Wall), 123, 124, 196.
-
- Alvanley, Lord, 187.
-
- Ammersley, Mr (banker), 94, 95.
-
- Angel, Miss. _See_ Kauffman, Angelica.
-
- Angelini, Edmund, 199.
-
- Angelo, Domenico, 92, 101.
-
- Angelo, Henry, 62, 108.
-
- Aram, Eugene, viii, 104.
-
- Armstrong, Benjamin, 119, 121, 125, 127, 143, 145.
-
- Asgill, Sir Charles, 90, 91.
-
- Ashbee, H. S., 224.
-
- Ashe, Miss, 173.
-
- Aston, Sir Richard, 28, 54, 61.
-
- Atlay, J. B., vii.
-
- Ayliffe, John, 85.
-
-
- Bailey (barrister), 57, 58, 62.
-
- Baker (coiner), executed, 65.
-
- Baker, Mr, 197, 199, 201 _sq._, 223, 226.
-
- Bamford, Sam, 192.
-
- ‘Bang’ Mrs, 181, 190, 212.
-
- Bank of England, 184 _sq._, 194 _sq._, 208, 216 _sqq._, 225 _sq._
-
- Barnes, Thomas, 221.
-
- Barrington, George, 206.
-
- Barrow, Mr, 224.
-
- Bartolozzi, F., completes engraving by Ryland, 97.
-
- Bathurst, Henry (barrister), 23.
-
- Bell, John, 222.
-
- _Bell’s Weekly Dispatch_, 222.
-
- _Bell’s Weekly Messenger_, 222.
-
- Binfield, Betty, 15, 17.
-
- Binns, Edward, 225.
-
- Black, John, 220.
-
- Blackburn, Joseph, 205.
-
- Blake, William, mentioned, 79;
- visit to Ryland, 88.
-
- Blandy, Francis, described, 1 _sqq._;
- breaks with Cranstoun, 8;
- invites him to Henley, 10;
- attitude towards him, 10;
- falls ill, 13;
- suspects poison, 16;
- last hours, 18 _sq._;
- death, 20.
-
- Blandy, Mary, mentioned, viii, 9, 74;
- described, 2;
- early life, 3 _sqq._;
- engagement to Cranstoun, 4 _sq._;
- passion for Cranstoun, 8 _sq._;
- fear of disinheritance, 11;
- plots with Cranstoun, 11;
- receives love philtre from him, 12;
- prepares her father’s oatmeal, 14 _sq._;
- suspected by her father, 16;
- calls in Dr Addington, 17;
- writes to Cranstoun, 17;
- conversation with dying father, 18 _sq._;
- accused by Dr Addington, 20;
- taken to Oxford castle, 21;
- life there, 22;
- trial, 23 _sqq._;
- speech, 25;
- found guilty, 27;
- last days, 29;
- execution, 30 _sqq._;
- burial, 33;
- date of birth, 38.
-
- Blandy, Mrs, described, 2 _sq._;
- death, 7.
-
- Bolland, James, 205, 214.
-
- Boswell, James, viii;
- visits Mrs Rudd, 68.
-
- Botting, James, 136, 204.
-
- Boucher, François, 80 _sq._, 82, 105.
-
- Boyd, Hugh M’Auley, 55.
-
- Braham, John (singer), 39, 73.
-
- Brandreth, Jeremy, 142.
-
- _Brighton Gazette_, 224.
-
- _British Press_, 221.
-
- Broderick, Mr, 196.
-
- Brooke, Dr, 46, 55.
-
- Brown, Sheriff, 192, 202.
-
- Brownrigg, Elizabeth, 54, 138.
-
- Brummell, George (‘Beau’), 149.
-
- Bryer & Co., 87.
-
- Budworth, Joseph, writes of Mary of Buttermere, 146, 147;
- advice to her, 148;
- writes again, 148;
- details of his articles, 176, 177.
-
- Buller, Judge, 95 _sq._
-
- Burke, William, 138.
-
- Bute, Marquis of, 83;
- employs Ryland, 84.
-
- Butterfield, Jane, 59.
-
- Buttermere, Mary (the Beauty of), mentioned, viii, ix;
- Wordsworth’s lines on, 146;
- becomes famous, 147;
- Wordsworth’s and Coleridge’s account of, 147;
- marries ‘Colonel Hope’ 152;
- description of, 152;
- wedding tour, 154;
- announcement of marriage, 158;
- discovers husband’s identity, 158;
- letter to Sir Richard Forde, 165;
- popular sympathy with, 166;
- attitude to Hadfield after trial, 169;
- child born, 173;
- marriage and subsequent life, 174;
- contemporary descriptions of, 176 _sq._
-
- Byng, Admiral, 128.
-
- Byron, Lord, 155.
-
-
- Cadogan, Lord, 22.
-
- Cameron, Jenny, 1.
-
- Canning, Elizabeth, 34.
-
- Canot, Peter Charles (engraver), 76.
-
- Carlisle House, 86, 101.
-
- Caroline, Queen, 189.
-
- Casanova, 86.
-
- Catnach, Jemmy, 188, 226.
-
- Charlson, Abraham, 166.
-
- Chatterton, Thomas, 205.
-
- Chudleigh, Elizabeth, 10, 60, 86.
-
- Churchill, Charles, 85.
-
- Clement, Mr, 222.
-
- Cock, Henry, 205.
-
- Conant, Mr John, 185, 191.
-
- Conway, General, 121.
-
- Conyngham, Lady, 199.
-
- Coleman, Henry, 22.
-
- Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, mentioned, viii;
- articles on Hadfield, 169, 175;
- description of Mary of Buttermere, 176.
-
- Copley, Sir John, 193, 194.
- _See also_ Lyndhurst, Lord.
-
- Cornelys, Madame, 101.
- _See also_ Imer, 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 William Henry, courts Miss Blandy, 4;
- stays with Blandys, 4;
- past life, 4 _sq._;
- divorce suit, 6 _sq._;
- dismissal from Henley, 8;
- return, 10;
- desperate position of, 10;
- plots with Miss Blandy, 11;
- returns to Scotland, 12;
- sends ‘Scotch pebbles’ 12;
- writes instructions, 13;
- denounced by Mr Blandy, 18;
- escape and death, 28;
- alleged innocence, 37, 38;
- mentioned, 74.
-
- Crump, John Gregory, 149;
- friendship with ‘Colonel Hope’ 149;
- honours his draft, 152;
- witness at Hadfield’s trial, 167;
- mentioned, 168, 169.
-
- Cumberland, Henry Frederick, Duke of, 48, 165.
-
-
- Dagge, Henry (barrister), 45.
-
- Dalboux, Hannah, 58.
-
- Davy, Serjeant, 62.
-
- Dawson, Mrs, 69.
-
- Delaney, Mrs, 104.
-
- Demarteau, Gilles (engraver), 82.
-
- Dennis & Co., 161, 167.
-
- D’Eon, Chevalier, 60.
-
- De Quincey, articles on Hadfield, 169, 172, 176.
-
- Despard, Col. Edward Marcus, ix, 140.
-
- De Vaudreuil, 113.
-
- Dickens, Charles, 192.
-
- Disney, Mrs J. C., 212, 214.
-
- Dodd, Dr, viii, 54, 67, 104, 186, 205, 225.
-
- Donellan, Captain, viii, 105.
-
- Drummond, Henry, 40 _sqq._
-
- Drummond, Messrs, 40 _sqq._
-
- Drummond, Robert, 40;
- destroys Mrs Rudd’s writing, 44.
-
- Duval, Claude, 173.
-
-
- Egan, Pierce, 215, 223, 224.
-
- Egmont, Lord, 40.
-
- Eldon, Lord Chancellor, 132.
-
- _Elia, Essays of_, 38.
-
- Emmet, Ann, 13, 14.
-
- _Englishman_, 222.
-
- Evans, Private William, 120.
-
- Ewart, William, 67, 221.
-
- _Examiner_, 222.
-
-
- Falconet, Pierre (portrait of Ryland), 87.
-
- Faulkner, Mary, 129.
-
- Fauntleroy, Henry, mentioned, viii, ix, 67;
- becomes manager of bank, 179;
- description of, 179;
- character, 180;
- private life, 181;
- marriage, 182;
- _liaisons_, 182;
- forgeries, 183 _sq._;
- discovery, 184;
- arrest, 185;
- examined at Marlborough Street, 187 _sq._;
- excitement over his case, 188;
- friendship with Parkins, 190;
- imprisonment, 191;
- employs Harmer as solicitor, 192;
- trial, 193 _sq._;
- defence, 195;
- verdict, 196;
- sentenced, 196;
- last days, 197 _sqq._;
- execution, 203;
- comments on case, 205 _sqq._;
- details of forgeries, 207 _sqq._;
- and the newspapers, 220 _sqq._;
- contemporary accounts of trial, 224 _sqq._;
- reported resuscitation, 225;
- written statement of motives discussed, 225.
-
- Fauntleroy, John, 197.
-
- Fauntleroy, William, 178;
- death, 179.
-
- Fauntleroy, William Moore, 180, 224.
-
- Fawcett, Henry, 120.
-
- Fenning, Elizabeth, viii, 33, 95.
-
- Ferrers, Lord, viii, 53.
-
- Ferrick, Peter (surgeon), 127 _sq._
-
- Fielding, Henry, viii, 9, 33.
-
- Fielding, Sir John, 46, 93.
-
- Fielding, William, 124.
-
- Fisher, Kitty, 48.
-
- Fitzgerald, George Robert (‘fighting’), 114, 142.
-
- Fitzroy, Lady Caroline, 10;
- (Petersham, 173;
- Lady Harrington, 86).
-
- Foote, Miss, 207.
-
- Forde, Rev. (Ordinary of Newgate), 135, 136.
-
- Forde, Sir Richard, 165.
-
- Fortrose, Baron, 123, 145.
-
- Fox, Charles James, 141.
-
- Fox, Maria, Fauntleroy’s mistress, 182;
- visits him in Newgate, 197, 198;
- mentioned, 212;
- trial, 214.
-
- Fragonard, Jean Honoré, 79, 80.
-
- Francis, John, 226.
-
- François, Jean Charles, 82.
-
- Frankau, Mrs Julia, 88;
- account of Ryland discussed, 109.
-
- Frankland, Admiral Sir Thomas, 46, 52;
- attacks Mrs Rudd, 57, 58;
- prosecutor at her trial, 59;
- daughters painted by Hoppner, 73.
-
- Freeman, Mrs, 92.
-
- Freshfield, Mr, 185, 186, 193.
-
- Fry, Elizabeth, 197, 223.
-
-
- Gahagan, Usher (poet), 104.
-
- Gainsborough, Tom, 75.
-
- Gale and Barnard, 225.
-
- Gardelle, Theodore, 54, 104.
-
- Garnet, Father, 212.
-
- Garrick, David, 9.
-
- Garrow, Baron, 193, 196.
-
- _Gentleman’s Magazine_, 224.
-
- George III.: mercilessness, 56, 63, 67;
- portrait by Allan Ramsay, 83;
- pardons Ryland’s brother, 86;
- refuses to pardon Ryland, 97;
- considers Wall’s case, 132;
- refuses to pardon, 133.
-
- George, Prince of Wales. _See_ George IV.
-
- George IV.: humanity, 67, 149, 150;
- character, 198.
-
- Gibbon, Edward, 32.
-
- Gillray, James, 177.
-
- _Globe and Traveller_, 223.
-
- Glynn (Recorder), 55.
-
- Goodchild, Mr, 185.
-
- Goree (island of), 113 _sqq._
-
- Gould, Henry, 60.
-
- Graham, W. (barrister), 95.
-
- Graham, Mr, 211.
-
- Granby, Lord, 48, 159.
-
- Green, William, 176.
-
- Grignion, Jacques (engraver), 76.
-
- Gunnel, Susan, 13, 14, 13, 18 _sqq._
-
- Gunning, the Misses, 34.
-
- Gurney, John, 124, 193.
-
- Gwynn, John, 85, 92, 101.
-
-
- Hackman, Rev. Mr James, viii, 54, 105.
-
- Hadfield, John, mentioned, viii, 146;
- passes as Col. Hope, 148;
- in Lake District, 149;
- makes friends with John Crump, 149;
- stays at Buttermere, 149;
- acquaintance with Colonel Moore, 150;
- betrothed to his niece, 150;
- pretensions suspected, 151;
- marries Mary of Buttermere, 152, 153 _sq._;
- wedding tour, 154;
- returns to Buttermere, 155;
- confronted by George Hardinge, 155;
- arrested, 156;
- draws on Mr Crump, 156;
- escape, 156 _sq._;
- identity discovered, 158;
- previous life, 159 _sqq._;
- motives, 163;
- details of escape, 163;
- arrested, 164;
- examination, 165;
- taken to Carlisle, 166;
- trial, 166 _sqq._;
- speech, 167;
- sentenced, 168;
- last days, 168;
- execution, 171;
- burial, 171;
- case examined, 172;
- character and motives, 172 sq.
-
- Hadfield, Mrs John, 161;
- loyalty to husband, 165;
- mentioned, 169.
-
- Haley, Sheriff, 66.
-
- Hamilton, Sir Edward, 141, 142, 143.
-
- Hanson, John, 191.
-
- Hardinge, George, 155 _sq._, 165.
-
- Hare, William (‘burker’), 60.
-
- Harmer, James, 192, 193, 196, 199;
- reproves _Times_, 221;
- proprietor of _Weekly Dispatch_, 222.
-
- Harrington, Lady, 86. _See also_ Fitzroy, Lady Caroline.
-
- Harris (turnkey of Newgate), 191, 201.
-
- Harrison, Richard, marries Mary of Buttermere, 174.
-
- Hart, Mrs Christian, 57, 58, 62.
-
- Harvey, Daniel, 222.
-
- Harvey, Edward, 143.
-
- Harwood, Joseph, 198, 200.
-
- Hawkins, Sir John, 76.
-
- Hayes, Catherine, 123.
-
- Hayman, Francis, 75.
-
- Hayward, Samuel Denmore, 173;
- life of, 224.
-
- Heathfield, Lardner & Co., 167.
-
- Heidegger, John James, 9.
-
- Hindley, Charles, 226.
-
- Hogarth, William, 76.
-
- Holroyd, George, 167.
-
- Holt (secretary E.I.C.), 94.
-
- Hook, Theodore, 223.
-
- Hope, Colonel Alexander Augustus.
- _See_ Hadfield;
- the real, 158, 166, 167, 170.
-
- Hope, Anthony, 207.
-
- Hopetoun, third Earl of, 148, 152, 166.
-
- Howard, Frances, 34.
-
- Hughes, Ball, 187.
-
- Hughes, Sir Edward, 113.
-
- Hulme, J. D., 184.
-
- Hunt, Henry (‘orator’), 190.
-
- Hunt, Joseph, 184, 192.
-
- Hunton, Joseph, 222.
-
- Hutchings, W. W., vii.
-
-
- Imer, Therese, 86.
- _See_ also Cornelys, Madame.
-
-
- Jack (Rann), ‘Sixteen String’ 44, 54.
-
- James III., 83.
-
- Jeffries, Elizabeth, 34.
-
- _John Bull_ (newspaper), 223.
-
- Johnson, Patrick, 208.
-
- Johnson, Dr Samuel, viii, 3;
- and Mrs Rudd, 68.
-
- Jones, Mr Arthur (solicitor), 40.
-
-
- Kate, ‘Corinthian’ 181, 190, 212, 215.
-
- Kauffman, Angelica, 105 _sqq._;
- friendship with Ryland, 88;
- pictures engraved by Ryland, 89 _sqq._;
- mentioned, 101.
-
- Key, Alderman John, 193, 202.
-
- Kent, Constance, 34.
-
- Kent, Mary Ann (Mrs Bang), 212.
-
- Keppel, Lady Caroline, 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 (Attorney-General), 124;
- conducts case against Wall, 125 _sqq._
-
- Lawrence, Sir Soulden, 124.
-
- Le Bas, Jacques Philippe, 81.
-
- Legge, Judge, 23, 27.
-
- Lee, George (highwayman), 65.
-
- Leighton, Blair, 106.
-
- Lewis, Evan, 126.
-
- Lewis, Dr William, 20.
-
- Lewis, ‘Monk’ 165.
-
- Lloyd (housebreaker), 99.
-
- Lovat, Lord, 83.
-
- Lowry, Captain James, 138, 142 _sq._
-
- Luddite riots, 166.
-
- Lyndhurst, Lord, 193, 217.
-
- Lyttelton, Lord, 62, 68.
-
- Lyttleton, Lady, 40.
-
-
- Macclesfield, Lord, 22.
-
- Macdonald, Sir Archibald, 124.
-
- Mackenzie, Frances, 123.
- _See_ Mrs Wall.
-
- Mackenzie, Captain Kenneth, 122, 128, 133, 141, 143.
-
- Mackenzie, Kenneth (father of Mrs Wall), 145.
-
- Mackintosh, James, 67, 221.
-
- Macnamara, Colonel, 114.
-
- Maclean, James, 173.
-
- Mansfield, Lord (Chief-Justice), judgment in Mrs Rudd’s case, 60, 61;
- mentioned, 68, 88.
-
- Marsh, Sibbald & Co., 178.
-
- Marsh, Stracey, Fauntleroy & Graham, 179, 196, 207 _sqq._, 221, 222, 226.
-
- Marsh, Mr William, 178, 209, 211, 216.
-
- Martin, Samuel (M.P.), 54.
-
- Maybrick, Florence, 34.
-
- Maynard, Thomas, 222.
-
- Mills (bankers), 52.
-
- Mirabeau, Count, 80.
-
- Montgomery, Captain John, 222.
-
- Moore, Col. Nathaniel Montgomery, 150;
- cashes draft on Mr Crump, 151;
- suspects ‘Colonel Hope’ 152;
- confronts him, 155, 156;
- mentioned, 167, 178.
-
- Moreland, Mr (banker), 95.
-
- _Morning Advertiser_, 221.
-
- _Morning Chronicle_, 220, 221, 223.
-
- _Morning Herald_, 220.
-
- _Morning Post_, 220.
-
- Mountenay, Mr, 24, 29.
-
- Murray, Miss (Mrs Cranstoun), 6.
-
- Murray, Fanny, 48.
-
-
- Napier, Sir Charles, 121.
-
- Nation, Mrs, 160;
- marries Hadfield, 161.
- _See also_ Mrs Hadfield.
-
- Nelson, Sara, 176.
-
- Newell, Thomas (attorney), 22.
-
- _Newgate Calendar_, vii, viii, 69, 173, 224.
-
- Newnham, Sheriff, 66.
-
- Newton, Mr (lawyer), 167.
-
- _New Times_, 221.
-
- Nicholson, Rev. John, 153 _sq._;
- faith in ‘Colonel Hope’ 155 _sq._;
- assists his escape, 156 _sq._;
- witness at Hadfield’s trial, 167;
- mentioned, 172.
-
- Nightingale, Mr, 90, 91.
-
- Nollekens, Joseph, 75.
-
- Norfolk, Duke of, 130, 189.
-
- Norman, Henry, 205.
-
- Norton, Benjamin (apothecary), 17, 18.
-
- Nucella, Mr, 161.
-
-
- _Observer_, 222.
-
- Oldham (Deputy-Advocate), 130.
-
-
- Palmer, J. H., 226.
-
- Palmer, William, 138.
-
- Park, Justice, 193, 196.
-
- Parke, Colonel, 167.
-
- Parkins, Joseph Wilfred, mentioned, 182, 215;
- career, 189 _sq._;
- indicted for perjury, 192;
- at Fauntleroy’s trial, 192 _sq._;
- letters to press against Fauntleroy, 220;
- and _Morning Herald_, 220;
- letter to _Sunday Times_, 222;
- lawsuit, 223.
-
- Parsons, William, 175.
-
- Paterson, George, 119, 120;
- dies, 121, 144, 145.
-
- Peckham (counsel for Ryland), 94.
-
- Peel, John, 174.
-
- Peel, Sir Robert, 199.
-
- Pelham, Lord, 124, 131.
-
- Perceval, Spencer, 124.
-
- Perreau, Daniel, mentioned, ix, 39, 205;
- description of, 44;
- committed to prison, 46;
- relations with Mr Rudd, 48 _sq._;
- speculations, 49;
- takes house in Harley Street, 50;
- statement in defence, 52;
- on trial at Old Bailey, 54;
- defence and condemnation, 55;
- attitude after trial, 63;
- in the Press Yard, 63;
- drive to Tyburn, 64 _sq._;
- execution, 66;
- guilt, 67.
-
- Perreau, Mrs Daniel.
- _See_ Mrs Rudd.
-
- Perreau, Mrs Robert, 58;
- evidence at Mrs Rudd’s trial, 62;
- begs Queen for mercy, 63.
-
- Perreau, Robert, mentioned, 39, 205;
- at Drummond’s Bank, 40 _sqq._;
- denounces Mrs Rudd, 45;
- committed to prison, 46;
- attitude towards brother, 50;
- joins in plans of Daniel and Mrs Rudd, 51;
- cashes bonds, 52;
- trial at Old Bailey, 54;
- defence and condemnation, 55;
- loyalty to brother, 63;
- attempts to save, 63;
- in Press Yard, 63;
- drive to Tyburn, 64 _sq._;
- execution, 66;
- guilt, 67.
-
- Petersham, Lady Caroline (Fitzroy), 173.
-
- Picton, Thomas, 142.
-
- Pitt, William, 132, 141.
-
- Plank, Samuel, 185.
-
- Plumer, Thomas, 124, 129.
-
- Pocock, Mrs, 31.
-
- Pompadour, Mme. de, 79, 81.
-
- Poplett, Lieut. Thomas, 127.
-
-
- Quick (clerk), 167.
-
-
- _Rambler’s Magazine_, 224.
-
- Ramsay, Allan (portrait of George III.), 83.
-
- Rann, John (‘Sixteen String Jack’), 44, 54.
-
- Ransome & Moreland, 91.
-
- Ratcliffe (coiner), executed, 65.
-
- Ravenet (engraver), 76, 77.
-
- Ray, Martha, viii;
- Récamier, Madame, 166.
-
- Reed, Mr Frederick, of Hassness, 176.
-
- Reynolds, G. W. M., 225.
-
- Reynolds, Sir Joshua, viii, 75, 105.
-
- Rice (broker), 53.
-
- Rich, John, 9.
-
- Rives, Mr (lawyer), 22, 30.
-
- Roberts, Captain, 116, 145.
-
- Robinson, George, 120.
-
- Robinson, Mary.
- _See_ Buttermere, Beauty of.
-
- Romilly, Samuel, 67, 221.
-
- Rooke, Sir Giles, 124.
-
- Roubiliac, 75.
-
- Rous (barrister), 95.
-
- Rouvelett, John, 205.
-
- Ryland, Edward, 74;
- his plates, 76.
-
- Ryland, Mrs, 92;
- opens print-shop, 104.
-
- Ryland, Richard, 87.
-
- Ryland, William Wynne, mentioned, viii, ix, x, 54, 205;
- attends St Martin’s Lane Academy, 74 _sq._;
- apprenticed to Ravenet, 76;
- home in Old Bailey, 77;
- goes to Paris, 78;
- at Boucher’s studio, 80 _sq._;
- engravings after Boucher, 81;
- learns stipple, 82;
- makes the grand tour, 82;
- exhibits in England, 83;
- returns to England, 83;
- appointed king’s engraver, 84;
- engraves royal pictures, 85;
- friends, 85;
- society, 86;
- obtains pardon for brother, 86;
- resides in Stafford Row, 87;
- portrait, 87;
- starts as print-seller, 87;
- fails, 87;
- visited by Blake, 87;
- friendship with Angelica Kauffman, 87;
- engraves her pictures, 89;
- print-shop in Strand, 90;
- success, 90;
- extravagance, 91;
- charged with forgery, 92;
- in hiding, 92;
- attempts suicide, 93;
- in Bridewell, 93;
- trial, 94;
- condemnation, 95;
- last engravings, 97;
- progress to Tyburn, 98 _sqq._;
- execution, 102;
- burial, 104;
- guilt, 104;
- genius, 105;
- Mrs Frankau’s account of, 109;
- other accounts, 109;
- list of engravings by, 110.
-
- Rudd, Margaret Caroline, mentioned, viii, 105;
- description of, 43;
- confesses forgery, 44;
- committed to Bridewell, 46;
- appears before Sir John Fielding, 46;
- admitted as evidence for Crown, 47;
- previous life, 47 _sqq._;
- passes as Daniel Perreau’s wife, 49;
- sources of income, 49, 50;
- family, 50;
- skill as forger, 51;
- statement in defence, 53;
- committed to Newgate, 54;
- arouses public sympathy, 56;
- her enemies, 56;
- defends herself in the press, 56;
- dealings with Mrs Hart, 58;
- and with Hannah Dalboux, 58;
- her ‘pair of scissors’ 59;
- six months in Newgate, 60;
- her case before the judges, 61;
- gives her brief, 61;
- appearance at Old Bailey, 61;
- trial and acquittal, 62;
- conduct reviewed, 68;
- subsequent history, 68;
- death, 69.
-
- Rudd, Valentine, 48.
-
- Rutland, Duke of, 159.
-
-
- St Martin’s Lane Academy, 74.
-
- Salvadore (moneylender), 48.
-
- Sanxy (Dr), 59.
-
- Savary, Henry, 205, 225.
-
- Scarlett, James, 167, 213.
-
- Scawen, William, 59.
-
- Scotin (engraver), 76.
-
- Seaforth, Lord, 145.
-
- Selwyn, George, 32, 104.
-
- Serres, Olive, 189.
-
- Sharp, William (engraver), 97.
-
- Sheppard, Jack, 206, 225.
-
- Sibbald, Sir James, 178, 211.
-
- Sidmouth, Lord, 190.
-
- Skelton, Mr, 149.
-
- Slaughter’s coffee house, 75.
-
- Smith (Governor of Bridewell), 93.
-
- Smith, Madeleine, 34.
-
- Smith, Tom, 104.
-
- Smythe, Judge, 23.
-
- Springett, Rev., 197, 199, 201 _sq._, 220.
-
- Stark, Thomas, 40.
-
- Stevens, Serjeant Henry, 8, 38.
-
- Stewart, John, 49.
-
- Stracey, Sir Edward, 178.
-
- Stracey, Mr J. H. (Sir Josias), 178, 188, 211.
-
- Strange, Robert (engraver), 83.
-
- Strutt, James (pupil to Ryland), 84.
-
- Stuart, Daniel, 223.
-
- _Sun_, 223.
-
- _Sunday Times_, 221, 222.
-
- Sutherland, Captain John, 143.
-
- Swinton, Rev. John, 26, 29, 30.
-
- Sydney, Lord, 117.
- _See also_ Townshend.
-
- Sylvester (Crown counsel), 95.
-
-
- Tadema, Alma, 106.
-
- Taylor, Sheriff Robert, 93, 98.
-
- Thistlewood, Arthur, 142.
-
- Thomson, Sir Alexander, 166, 172.
-
- Thornbury, George Walter, 206, 225.
-
- Thornhill, Sir James, 75.
-
- Thornton, Abraham, 167.
-
- Thurtell, John, viii, 184, 188, 192, 221, 224.
-
- Timbs, Private Charles, 130.
-
- _Times_, 220, 221, 223, 224, 225.
-
- Townshend, Mr, 112, 115, 117.
-
- Traill, H. D., 175.
-
- Turner, Anne, 34.
-
- Turton, William Henry, 143.
-
-
- Urban, Sylvanus, 145.
-
- Upton, Corporal Thomas, 120;
- dies, 121.
-
-
- Vickery (Governor of Coldbath Fields Prison), 191, 221.
-
- Villette, Rev. (Ordinary of Newgate), 65, 66;
- at Ryland’s execution, 99, 102.
-
-
- Waithman (Lord Mayor), 190.
-
- Waterman, Mr (papermaker), 95.
-
- Wale, Sam, 76.
-
- Walker (engraver), 76.
-
- Walpole, Horace, 21, 34, 59, 104.
-
- Walter, Mr, 216, 221.
-
- Wall, Augustine, 145.
-
- Wall, Governor Joseph, mentioned, ix;
- description of, 112;
- Governor of Goree, 113;
- serves in West Indies, 113;
- in John Company, 113;
- duels, 114;
- service in North-West Africa, 114;
- Governor of Goree, 115;
- censured by Horse Guards, 116;
- arrest, 117;
- escape, 117;
- his soldiers in Goree, 117;
- their discontent, 118, 119;
- has soldiers flogged, 120;
- fugitive abroad, 122;
- returns to London, 123;
- surrenders, 124;
- trial, 125 _sqq._;
- sentence, 131;
- last days, 131 _sqq._;
- execution, 137;
- body ransomed from Surgeons’ Hall, 139;
- burial, 139;
- comments on his case, 139 _sqq._;
- other accusations against, 144;
- reported court-martial, 145;
- flogging of other soldiers, 145;
- date of appointment, 145.
-
- Wall, Mrs Joseph, 123;
- attempts to get husband reprieved, 131;
- parting with husband, 133;
- mentioned, 145.
-
- Watteau, Antoine, 79.
-
- Wellington, Duke of, 198.
-
- Weston, Henry, 205.
-
- Whibley, Charles, vii.
-
- Wild, Jonathan (thief-taker), 74.
-
- Wilkes, John, 48, 87;
- at Perreaus’ trial, 54.
-
- Wilkes, Miss Polly, 56.
-
- Wilson, Harriet, 182.
-
- Wilson, Richard, 75.
-
- Wilkinson, Mr, 213.
-
- Wilkinson, Tate, 21.
-
- William IV., 198.
-
- Williams, Peter, 129.
-
- Williams-Wynne, Sir Watkin, 74.
-
- Wontner (Governor of Newgate), 191, 196, 201.
-
- Wordsworth, William, mentioned, viii;
- lines on Mary of Buttermere, 144, 145, 176;
- on ‘little Barbara Lewthwaite’ 148;
- visits Hadfield in gaol, 169.
-
- Wood, Alderman, 189.
-
- Wood, George, 124, 167.
-
- Wright, Sir Sampson, 45, 93.
-
-
- York, Duke of, 150.
-
- Young, Miss Elizabeth, 187.
-
- Young, Miss Frances, 187, 194, 225.
-
- Youngson, Margaret Caroline, 49.
- _See also_ Rudd.
-
-
-PRINTED BY NEILL AND CO., LTD., EDINBURGH.
-
-
-Transcriber's Note:
-
-Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation are as in the original.
-
-
-
-
-
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