Chapter XIV: Part 14

A party of the Life Guards was stationed towards the lower end of the Old-Bailey, and a small detachment appeared at the end next St. Sepulchre’s Church. On a sudden a loud noise attracted the attention of every one; this was caused by the awkward situation in which a person had placed himself, who, having got within the second bar, had clambered up against one of the houses, where the constables, who felt it their duty to remove him, could not get at him. He was at length pulled down by the heels, amidst the boisterous laughter of the crowd, who in this manifested all the thoughtless levity of a common mob--a levity not unlike that described by the unfortunate Hackman to have preceded the execution of Dr. Dodd[3].

Several persons of distinction--among others some military officers of rank--arrived in the course of the morning, and Mr. Brown, the gaoler, afforded them accommodation in his house. They took their places at the drawing-room windows, and were thus enabled to command an excellent view of the whole melancholy scene.

Shortly after seven o’clock, the executioner made his appearance on the drop, and placed the steps by which he was to ascend to tie the sufferers to the fatal beam. The saw-dust, which had been previously collected in two small heaps on the second scaffold, was now spread over the boards.

The coffins were then brought out, and placed on the saw-dust, the foot of each being put so as nearly to touch the platform, from which those who were to fill them were to be launched into eternity. They had no lids on them. The coffin of Thistlewood was first lifted out. The third coffin brought out appeared longer than the others, and was supposed to be intended for Davidson, who was the tallest man; but this conjecture proved erroneous.

The persons employed to bring the coffins swept out the large one, and then proceeded to throw saw-dust into them, that the blood of the sufferers might not find its way through.

The block was now brought up, and placed at the head of the first coffin. Most of the spectators were surprised at the shape of the block, as, instead of presenting a flat surface, it was slanted off, so that the top of it was quite sharp.

The awful moment was now rapidly approaching when the ill-fated men were to be removed to another world. Each of them conversed freely with the officers who had them in charge, and severally declared that moment to be the happiest of their lives.

Davidson alone continued to pray fervently to the moment of his removal; but the others seemed perfectly unmoved by their approaching fate.

The six prisoners who had received the royal clemency, had been previously removed to another part of the prison, under the care and superintendence of a turnkey.

The four before-mentioned, _viz._ Strange, Cooper, Bradburn, and Gilchrist, continued to express themselves in the most grateful and enthusiastic terms, that their lives had been saved through the kind and benevolent interposition of those illustrious personages whose lives were intended to fall sacrifices to their diabolical project; but Wilson and Harrison persisted in the most obstinate indifference to the mercy which had been so graciously extended towards them. During the night and morning, they became excessively uneasy; and, while they wept for the ignominious fate of their companions, they expressed a wish that they might have been participators in its consequences, horrible as they were.

About half-past seven o’clock, the Sheriffs, Under-Sheriffs, several young noblemen, and a number of gentlemen, walked in the procession (as is usual) through the various passages in Newgate, till they arrived at the door of the condemned cells, which comes into the press-yard. The unhappy criminals, since receiving sentence of death, had been confined in the lower ward of the prison assigned to capital convicts.

Thistlewood came out of the condemned cell first; he bowed to the Sheriffs and gentlemen present; he looked very pale, he cast up his eyes, and said, “It appears fine.” He displayed uncommon firmness, and held out his hands for the assistant executioner to tie them. He observed to the persons near him, that he never felt in better spirits in the course of his life. He was attired in the same apparel that he wore during his trial. The composure he exhibited was striking; but there was nothing like bravado or carelessness. He now advanced to the block to have his irons knocked off; and, while the turnkey was in the act,

Mr. Alderman Wood advanced to Thistlewood, and said, “Thistlewood, I wish you to give me an answer to two or three questions.”

_Mr. Sheriff Rothwell_--“Mr. Alderman, I must interfere. I am sure you have had quite experience enough of magisterial duties to know, that on a solemn occasion of this kind, you ought not to interfere with a prisoner on the point of death.”

_Mr. Alderman Wood_--“You prevented me, Mr. Sheriff, from entering Newgate yesterday, to obtain the information I am now about to seek. You have no authority to prevent me from now having it, as the gaol is this day under the superintendence of Lord Sidmouth; and I must persist in obtaining answers to my questions, if the prisoner chooses to give them.”

_Mr. Sheriff Rothwell_--“I cannot suffer you to disturb the quiet of this unhappy man’s mind at this awful moment, Mr. Alderman. I must, by virtue of my office, interfere, and prevent you from doing any thing which can have a tendency to distract the mind of a man in his awful situation--one who is indeed dead in law.”

_Mr. Sheriff Parkins_--“I must insist on the Worthy Alderman’s being permitted to put any question he pleases, unless the prisoner objects. I now authorise Alderman Wood to put whatever questions he wishes.”

_Mr. Sheriff Rothwell_--“Well, I must again object. I think it highly improper.”

_Mr. Alderman Wood_--“I have the questions here written down, and I’ll put them to you. Thistlewood, when did you first become acquainted with Edwards?”

_Thistlewood_--“About June last.”

_Mr. Alderman Wood_--“Where did you become acquainted with Edwards?”

_Thistlewood_--“At Preston’s.”

_Mr. Alderman Wood_, who did not appear to have heard the final letter, said, “At Preston, in Lancashire?”

_Thistlewood_--“No: at Preston’s, the shoemaker.”

_Mr. Alderman Wood_--“Did he ever give you any money?”

_Thistlewood_--“Yes, I had a little from him, a pound-note at a time.”

The Worthy Alderman wrote down the answers he had received to his questions.

Mr. Sheriff Rothwell appeared extremely angry at the course taken by the Worthy Alderman, while his colleague, Mr. Sheriff Parkins, expressed his warm approbation of it.

Tidd next made his appearance; he came out of the cell into the Press-yard with an air of assumed gaiety. He smiled during the time he was being pinioned, and continued quite cheerful during the time his irons were knocking off. The moment his legs were free from their burden, he ran towards Thistlewood, who had taken a seat on a bench (placed in the yard for the purpose), and said, “Well, Mr. Thistlewood, how do you do,” and they shook hands most heartily. Thistlewood said, “He was never better.” Tidd conversed in the most gay and cheerful manner with the turnkey, while he was driving the rivets out of his irons, and composedly assisted the man in taking them off.

Ings then came out of the cell, and danced as he came down the steps along the yard. He was dressed in his usual clothes as a butcher, a rough pepper-and-salt coloured worsted jacket, and a dirty cap. During the time his hands were being tied he became thoughtful, afterwards he seemed hurried and in great mental pain; but before his irons were knocked off he began to laugh and shout, and afterwards took a seat by the side of his fellow-sufferers.

Brunt was then brought into the Press-yard; he was perfectly composed, but looked round eagerly to see his wretched companions. He nodded to them, and then held out his hands to have them tied. He said nothing during the time he was being pinioned and having his irons taken off; but afterwards he addressed Thistlewood, Tidd, and Ings; he told them to keep up their spirits, and to one of his companions he said, “All will soon be well.”

Davidson was then brought out of his cell; he seemed a little affected at the sight of his companions, but soon regained that composure which he evinced during the trials. His lips moved; but he did not betray much anxiety till his irons were knocked off. He then looked wildly at the Rev. Mr. Cotton, and appeared to be in prayer, very devoutly; the others declared they were about to die in peace with all mankind, but that they had all made up their minds on religious matters, and were determined to die Deists.

Davidson took the sacrament in the morning at six o’clock, from Mr. Cotton, and prayed most fervently. He also joined the Rev. Gentleman in a prayer for the prosperity of his Majesty King George IV., though he avowed he had not the same feeling for his ministers. A glass of wine was offered to Thistlewood, who politely refused. Tidd and Brunt took a glass each.

The irons of the culprits were then knocked off in succession. Thistlewood requested Mr. Cotton to speak to him, but for no other motive than to request he would observe his conduct had been manly, and to state that he was perfectly happy, and died in peace with God.

Even to the last moment, the attentions of the Reverend Ordinary to the four men whom we have pointed out were unavailing: to every remonstrance he offered, the only answer was, they wanted no assistance of his, their minds were perfectly made up on religious subjects, and they believed they should receive mercy at the hands of God.

When the awful ceremony of pinioning the culprits by the yeoman of the halter was concluded, they each shook hands, and most fervently exclaimed, “God bless you.” The Reverend Mr. Cotton then began to read the burial service, commencing at the words “I am the resurrection and the life,” _&c._, and, the arrangements being completed, the procession advanced through the dark passages of the gaol, led by the Sheriffs and Under-Sheriffs. The Reverend Mr. Cotton moved first.

Thistlewood followed, with his eyes fixed, as it were, in abstract thought, and apparently lost to his situation. A vacant and unmeaning stare pervaded his countenance, which seemed unmoved by the devotions of the pious Ordinary.

Tidd walked next, and although somewhat affected by his situation, his manner was collected, manly, and unaffectedly firm.

Ings came next, and was laughing without reserve, and used every forced effort to subdue the better feelings of nature, which might remind him of his awful situation; his conduct was more like a delirium of fear than an effect of courage.

Brunt, in fixed and hardened obduracy of mind, next advanced, and with a sullen and morose air of indifference surveyed the officers who were conducting him to his fate.

The unhappy Davidson came last, with clasped hands and uplifted eyes, praying most devoutly; and the officers of the gaol closed the mournful procession.

On their arrival at the Lodge, from which the Debtors’-door leads to the scaffold, a moment’s pause took place, while the dreadful paraphernalia of death were adjusted without. Thistlewood, who stood first, clasped his lips, and with a frown surveyed, from the door-way in which he stood, the awful preparations for his fate.

The Under-Sheriff, at this period stepped into the road from the Governor’s house, to ascertain how far the preparations had proceeded. Every thing seemed to be completely arranged. A party of the Horse-Guards seemed about to pass the barrier beyond which they had previously been stationed, but they did not persevere, in consequence of the difficulty of penetrating the crowd.

The persons who had previously retired from the front of the prison now (at twenty minutes before eight) returned to their old places on the top of it. This, with other circumstances just particularized, announced that the culprits were about to be conducted to the scaffold.

The re-appearance of the executioner, and the solemn sound of the bell, removed all doubt on the subject. Every one felt that the awful moment was at hand; and the assembled thousands stood uncovered in silent, breathless, expectation.

Those opposite the prison saw in the next moment the procession from the interior of it reach the door through which the culprits were to pass to expiate their crimes with their blood.

The Ordinary ascended the platform, and at a quarter before eight Thistlewood made his appearance on the scaffold. His step faultered a little as he mounted the platform, and his countenance was somewhat flushed and disordered on being conducted to the extremity of the drop. His deportment was firm, and he looked round at the multitude with perfect calmness. He had an orange in his hand. On the cap being placed on his head, he desired that it might not be put over his eyes. While the executioner was putting the rope round his neck, a person from the top of the houses exclaimed, “Good Almighty bless you.” Thistlewood nodded. The Reverend Mr. Cotton, by whom he was preceded, endeavoured to obtain his attention; but he shook his head, and said, “No, no.” He looked round repeatedly, as expecting to recognise some one in the crowd, and appeared rather disconcerted at observing the distance to which the populace were removed.

Some of those to whom the face of Thistlewood was not familiar, imagined that he gave proofs of the fear of death upon the scaffold, but in this supposition they were much mistaken. At the moment that he has been heard uttering his dangerous politics in safety, and declaring his determination to stand or fall by them, the expression of his features was the same; and Thistlewood with the rope round his neck was the same Thistlewood that appeared so conspicuous at Smithfield.

Mr. Cotton approached him while the executioner was making his awful arrangements, and spoke to him upon the subject of his thoughts of hereafter. Thistlewood shook his head, and said he required no earthly help upon that subject. He then sucked his orange, and, looking down at the officers who were collected about the scaffold, said, in a firm voice, “I have but a few moments to live, and I hope the world will be convinced that I have been sincere in my endeavours, and that I die a friend to liberty.”

The figure of the miserable man, which naturally was not good, had undergone a change for the worse: in consequence of the pressure of the rope with which his arms were fastened behind, his shoulders were raised to a degree that closely approached deformity. The executioner having placed the cap upon his head, and fastened the rope round the beam, looked towards the Sheriff as a signal that his duties towards Thistlewood were completed.

While the executioner was performing his last offices without to this wretched man, the scene within the Lodge was almost beyond the power of description. The dreadful obduracy of Brunt and Ings filled with horror the small assemblage of persons among whom they stood.

Ings, with a hardihood almost indescribable, sucked an orange, with which Sheriff Parkins had provided him, as well as all the other prisoners, and sung, or rather screamed, in a discordant voice, “Oh! give me death or liberty!” Brunt rejoined, “Aye, to be sure. It is better to die free, than to live slaves!”

A gentleman in the Lodge admonished them to consider their approaching fate, and to recollect the existence of a Deity, into whose supreme presence a few minutes would usher them.

Brunt exclaimed, “I know there is a God!” and Ings added, “Yes, to be sure; and I hope he will be more merciful to us than they are here.”

Tidd, who had stood in silence, was now summoned to the scaffold. He shook hands with all but Davidson, who had separated himself from the rest.

Ings again seized Tidd’s hand at the moment he was going out, and exclaimed, with a burst of laughter, “Give us your hand! Good-bye!”

A tear stood in Tidd’s eye, and his lips involuntarily muttered, “My wife and----!”

Ings proceeded--“Come my old cock-o’-wax, keep up your spirits; it all will be over soon.”

Tidd immediately squeezed his hand, and ran towards the stairs leading to the scaffold. In his hurry, his foot caught the bottom step, and he stumbled. He recovered himself, however, in an instant, and rushed upon the scaffold, where he was immediately received with three cheers from the crowd, in which he made a slight effort to join.

The applause was evidently occasioned by the bold and fearless manner in which the wretched man advanced to his station. He turned to the crowd who were upon Snow-hill, and bowed to them. He then looked down upon the coffins and smiled, and turning round to the people who were collected in the Old-Bailey towards Ludgate-hill, bowed to them. Several voices were again heard, and some in the crowd expressed their admiration of Tidd’s conduct.

The rope having been put round his neck, he told the executioner that the knot would be better on the right than on the left side, and that the pain of dying might be diminished by the change. He then assisted the executioner, and turned round his head several times for the purpose of fitting the rope to his neck. He afterwards familiarly nodded to some one whom he recognised at a window, with an air of cheerfulness. He also desired that the cap might not be put over his eyes, but said nothing more. He likewise had an orange in his hand, which he continued to suck most heartily. He soon became perfectly calm, and remained so till the last moment of his life.

In the interim, Davidson, who had not yet come out, leaned with his back against a dresser in the lodge, and continued with his hands clasped, praying in the most fervent manner, and calling with unfeigned and unreserved piety for the intervention of the Redeemer. Brunt and Ings, however, persevered in the same hardihood that they had manifested throughout, and continued venting their thoughts in unreserved ejaculations.

A humane individual who stood by remonstrated with Brunt again, and besought him to ask pardon of God.

Brunt, with a fierce and savage air, surveyed his adviser contemptuously, and exclaimed, “What have I done? I have done nothing! What should I ask pardon for?” The stranger rejoined, “So you say, Brunt; but if you have ever injured any man, or done any thing which your conscience tells you is wrong, ask pardon of God, penitently and sincerely, and you will, I have no doubt, obtain mercy.”--Brunt replied, “I die with a perfectly clear conscience. I have made my peace with God, and I never injured no man.” The stranger proceeded, “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ!” Brunt surveyed his humane adviser again, and muttered, “My mind is made up.”

“Well done, Brunt!” exclaimed Ings, and was again proceeding to sing,

“Oh give me death or liberty,”

when he was summoned to the scaffold. He turned to Brunt, and, with a smile on his countenance, shook hands with him, and prepared to go. While the hatch was opening, he exclaimed, with a loud voice, “Remember me to King George the IVth; God bless him, and may he have a long reign.” He now recollected that he had some clothes left behind, which he requested might be given to his wife. The wretched man had thrown off the clothes in which he had been tried, and had put on an old butcher’s jacket, determining, as he said, “that Jack Ketch should have no coat of his.”

THOMAS BRUNT.

_Wivell Delin^t._ _Cooper Sculp^t._]

While he stood on the edge of the steps, at the door of the gaol, he said to Davis, one of the turnkeys, “Well, Mr. Davis, I am going to find out this great secret,” and then springing upon the scaffold, exclaimed, “Good-bye! Gentlemen. Here goes the remains of an unfortunate man.”

He rushed to the platform, upon which he leaped and bounded in the most frantic manner. Then turning himself round towards Smithfield, and facing the very coffin that was soon to receive his mutilated body, he raised his pinioned hands, in the best way he could, and leaning forward with savage energy, roared out three distinct cheers to the people, in a voice of the most frightful and discordant hoarseness. But these unnatural yells of desperation, which were evidently nothing but the ravings of a disordered mind, or the ebullitions of an assumed courage, struck the majority of the vast multitude who heard them with horror.

Turning his face towards Ludgate-hill, he bowed, and cried out, “This is going to be the last remains of James Ings,” and shouted out part of the song in which the words _Death or Liberty_ are introduced. He laughed upon looking at the coffins, and said, turning his back to them, “I’ll turn my back upon death!--Is this the gallows they always use? Those coffins are for us, I suppose.”

Tidd, who stood next to him, and had the moment before been in conversation with Thistlewood, turned about, and said, “Don’t, Ings. There is no use in all this noise. We can die without making a noise.” Ings was silent for a few moments; but as the executioner approached him with the rope, he called out, “Do it well--pull it tight!”

When the executioner threw the rope round the beam, he said, “Give me a better fall; the others won’t have fall enough.” When the man put him on the cap, Ings said, “I have got a cap of my own; put it over this night-cap, and I’ll thank you.” The executioner proceeded to do so; but Ings said, “It will do when we are going off: let me see as long as I can.” He then pushed the cap from his eyes. The others had raised the caps from their eyes. “Here I go, James Ings!” said he, “and let it be known that I die an enemy to all tyrants. Ah ha! I see a good many of my friends are on the houses.”

Again Tidd turned round to Ings, and, as it appeared, at the suggestion of Thistlewood, requested that he would not continue the noise. Ings laughed and remained silent for a few minutes.

Mr. Cotton approached Tidd and Ings, but they turned away from him. Ings smiled at his interference, but Tidd turned round to Thistlewood and spoke a few words, in which he seemed to complain of the inclination of the Ordinary to break in upon their last moments.

Thistlewood now said to Tidd, “We shall soon know the last grand secret.”

Brunt, who, after the departure of Ings, stood by himself within the porch of the prison, having no companion of his own principles to encourage him, (as Davidson stood far away from him,) muttered something about the injustice of his fate. The persons around him repeatedly entreated him to alter his religious creed, during the last few moments left, and to believe in the Saviour of the world. Still immutable--still hardened in iniquity--he listened not to the remonstrances of sincere friends, who besought him, for his wife’s sake, and for the sake of his son, to ask the protection of the Redeemer for them; but he appeared tired of these friendly importunities, and wished to ascend the scaffold next.

Davidson, however, was summoned before him, and with a composed countenance and a firm step he passed by his former companion in guilt to his fate, without noticing him.

Brunt now appeared considerably irritated. “What,” he exclaimed, “am I to be the last? Why is this? They can have my blood but once, and why am I to be kept to the last? But I suppose they are afraid I should say something to the people, because I spoke my mind on the trial. However, I don’t care.”

Davidson walked up the platform with a firm and steady step, but with all that respectful humility becoming the condition to which he had reduced himself. He bowed to the crowd, and instantly joined Mr. Cotton in prayer. He seemed inattentive to every thing but the journey he was about to take, and his lips moved in prayer until he was no longer able to speak. He made no request to have his eyes uncovered, but was evidently preparing himself for bidding an eternal adieu to a world of which he had ceased to be an inhabitant.

Brunt was the last summoned to the fatal platform, and he rushed upon it with impetuosity. Some of the people cheered him, which evidently gratified and pleased him. It brought a sort of grin on his countenance, which remained till his death. But his aspect “belied his utterance.” Externally he appeared to have shrunk more from his fate than any one of his wretched companions; his cheeks had sunk extremely, giving a degree of ghostly prominence to a forehead, cheek-bones, and chin, naturally very much protruded, and his colour was of a livid paleness; but the eyes of the man sent forth from their deep recesses glances of distressing keenness; his lips were firmly compressed together; not a tear trickled down his cheeks; there was no quaking of the members. To use an expressive phrase of his speech on receiving sentence, “he went through with the business.” “What,” said he, “soldiers! What do they do here? I see nothing but a military government will do for this country, unless there are a good many such as we are. I see a good many of my friends round about.”

While the rope was being adjusted, he looked towards St. Sepulchre’s Church, and perceiving, or affecting to perceive, some one with whom he had been acquainted, he nodded several times, and then made an inclination of the head towards the coffins, as if in derision of the awful display. His conduct was marked by the same irrational levity to the last. When his handkerchief was taken off, the stiffener fell out, and he kicked it away, saying, “I shan’t want you any more.”

His last act was to take a pinch of snuff from a paper which he held in his hand. He stooped to put it to his nose, and this he was only able to effect by pushing up the night-cap which hung over his face. He also threw off his shoes.

The executioner was now proceeding to adjust the ropes, and to pull the caps over the faces of the wretched men. A voice from the crowd again called out, “God bless you, Thistlewood!” Thistlewood looked towards the place from which it issued, and slightly inclined his head. He then said a few words in a whisper to Tidd, and awaited his fate in silence.

Brunt refused altogether to speak with Mr. Cotton upon the subject of the next world, and declared that he had done all he thought necessary for the place to which he was going. He appeared disposed to address the crowd, but they were at too great a distance, and the executioner was quick at his work.

The cap was first drawn over the face of Thistlewood, and his cravat was bound over his eyes. He stooped gently while the man tied it, and appeared to direct him as to the way in which he wished it done.

When the executioner came to Ings, the unhappy man said, “Now, old gentleman, finish me tidily. Tie the handkerchief tight over my eyes. Pull the rope tighter; it may slip.”

When the handkerchief was tied over his eyes, he cried out, “I hope, Mr. Cotton, you will give me a good character!” and commenced swinging about in his hand an old night-cap in the most careless manner.

Tidd’s lips were in motion just before he was turned off, as if in prayer. Davidson was in the most fervent prayer, and seemed to feel his situation with a becoming spirit. He firmly pressed the hand of the Rev. Mr. Cotton.

The executioner having completed the details of his awful duty, by placing the criminals in a proper situation upon the trap-door, walked down the ladder, and left Mr. Cotton alone upon the scaffold. The Reverend Gentleman standing closer to Davidson than to any of the rest, began to read those awful sentences which have sounded last in the ears of so many unhappy men. Suddenly the platform fell, and the agonies of death were exhibited to the view of the crowd in their most terrific form.

Thistlewood struggled slightly for a few minutes, but each effort was more faint than that which preceded; and the body soon turned round slowly, as if upon the motion of the hand of death.

Tidd, whose size gave cause to suppose that he would “pass” with little comparative pain, scarcely moved after the fall. The struggles of Ings were great. The assistants of the executioner pulled his legs with all their might; and even then the reluctance of the soul to part from its native seat was to be observed in the vehement efforts of every part of the body. Davidson, after three or four heaves, became motionless; but Brunt suffered extremely, and considerable exertions were made by the executioners and others to shorten his agonies, by pulling and hanging upon his legs. However, in the course of five minutes all was still.

THE DECAPITATION.

Exactly half an hour after they had been turned off, the order was given to cut the bodies down. The executioner immediately ascended the scaffold, and drew the legs of the sufferers up, and placed the dead men, who were still suspended, in a sitting position, with their feet towards Ludgate-hill. This being done, the trap-door was again put up, and the platform restored to its original state. The executioner proceeded to cut Thistlewood down; and, with the aid of an assistant, lifted the body into the first coffin, laying it on the back, and placing the head over the end of the coffin, so as to bring the neck on the edge of the block. The rope was then drawn from the neck, and the cap was removed from the face.

The last convulsions of expiring life had thrown a purple hue over the countenance, which gave it a most ghastly and appalling appearance; but no violent distortion of feature had taken place. An axe was placed on the scaffold, but this was not used.

When the rope had been removed, and the coat and waistcoat forced down, so as to leave the neck exposed, a person wearing a black mask, which extended to his mouth, over which a coloured handkerchief was tied, and his hat slouched down, so as to conceal part of the mask, and attired in a blue jacket and dark-grey trowsers, mounted the scaffold with a small knife in his hand, similar to what is used by surgeons in amputation, and, advancing to the coffin, proceeded to sever the head from the body.

When the crowd perceived the knife applied to the throat of Thistlewood, they raised a shout, in which exclamations of horror and of reproach were mingled. The tumult seemed to disconcert the person in the mask for the moment; but, upon the whole, he performed the operation with dexterity; and, having handed the head to the assistant executioner, who waited to receive it, he immediately retired, pursued by the hootings of the mob.

The assistant executioner, holding the head by the hair over the forehead, exhibited it from the side of the scaffold nearest Newgate-street. A person attended on the scaffold, who dictated to the executioner what he was to say; and he exclaimed with a loud voice--“This is the head of Arthur Thistlewood, the traitor!” A thrilling sensation was produced on the spectators by the display of this ghastly object, and the hissings and hootings of part of the mob were vehemently renewed.

The same ceremony was repeated in front of the scaffold, and on the side nearest Ludgate-street. The head was then placed at the foot of the coffin; while the body, before lifted up to bring the neck on the block, was forced lower down, and, this done, the head was again put in its proper place, at the upper end of the coffin, which was left open.

The block was then moved by the hangman, and placed at the head of the second coffin. The cap and rope were removed from the face and neck of Tidd. The same livid hue which overspread the countenance of Thistlewood was perceptible.

The coat and waistcoat being pulled down, the masked executioner again came forward. He was received with groans, and cries of “Shoot that ---- murderer;” “Bring out Edwards,” _&c._ He seemed less disconcerted than at first, and performed the operation with great expedition, and, having handed the head to the person who had before received that of Thistlewood, he retired amidst yells and execrations.

The assistant executioner then advanced to the side of the scaffold, from which the former head was first exhibited, holding the head between both hands by the cheeks, the forehead of Tidd being bald, and exclaiming, “This is the head of Richard Tidd, the traitor.” The same words were also repeated from the other two sides of the scaffold, and the head was then deposited with the body in the second coffin.

The block was now removed to the third coffin, and the body of Ings, being cut down, was placed in it with the face upwards. The person in the mask again came forward, severed the head from the body, and retired amidst the hootings of the crowd. The assistant-executioner proceeded to exhibit the head, holding it up by the hair in the same way as he had Thistlewood’s, from the three sides of the scaffold, exclaiming, “This is the head of James Ings, the traitor.” The head was then placed in the coffin.

The block being removed to the fourth coffin, the body of Davidson was taken down from the gallows, the noose taken from about the neck, and the cap removed from the face, which remained in death exactly what it had been while living. The mouth was a little open, but no expression of agony, or change of colour, could be remarked. The body was placed in the fourth coffin, and the man in the mask having performed his part, the head was exhibited in the same way as the last, with the exclamation, “This is the head of William Davidson, the traitor.”

Little or no blood had fallen from the other heads, but from this it fell profusely. The hisses and groans of the crowd were repeated on this occasion, while the head was deposited in the coffin which contained the sufferer’s body.

The executioner and his assistant now proceeded to cut down the last of the sufferers, Brunt. The block was placed at the head of the fifth coffin. The blood which had stained the block was wiped off with the saw-dust, and, the rope being cut, they attempted to lift the body to the place where the last part of the sentence was to be executed, when it was found that in putting up the platform part of his clothing had been shut in with it, and held him so tight, that a considerable effort was necessary to disengage the remains of the wretched culprit. He was placed in the fifth coffin.

His miserable and cadaverous countenance presented but a ghastly spectacle while he was alive; but dead, its aspect was little less than terrific; and the dark hair which overhung his forehead came in frightful contrast with the purple hue produced by the agonies of death.

The masked executioner, while performing his duty, happened to let the head fall from his hands on the saw-dust. The howlings and groans of the spectators were again heard at that moment, and amidst these the operator retired, having first handed the discoloured “trunkless ball” to the assistant executioner, who advancing, as in each of the other cases, first to the side of the scaffold nearest Giltspur-street, then to the front, and lastly to the side looking towards the Felons’-door, proclaimed aloud, “This is the head of John Thomas Brunt, the traitor.” His head was then placed in the coffin, and thus terminated this part of the awful business of that memorable day.

The execution occupied an hour and eight minutes. It was a quarter before eight when Thistlewood walked up the steps leading to the fatal platform; and it wanted seven minutes to nine when the head of Brunt was placed in the coffin.

From the manner in which the last part of the execution was performed very little blood was seen on the scaffold. The bodies being placed almost in a sitting attitude in their coffins, the blood could not flow copiously from them at the moment the heads were taken off. It was not till they were laid in a horizontal position that the vital stream could escape freely from the heart.

The person who wore the mask, and who performed the ceremony of decapitation, is said to be the same person who beheaded Despard and his associates. This, however, may be doubted, as, from the quickness and spring of his motions, he seemed to be a young man. His mode of operation showed evidently that he was a surgeon. In performing his dreadful duty, the edge of the first knife was turned by the vertebræ of Thistlewood, and two others became necessary to enable him to finish his heart-appalling task.

The coffins containing the remains of the sufferers were left on the scaffold but for a few minutes after the sentence of the law had been carried into effect. While there they continued open. At nine o’clock they were conveyed into the prison by the Debtors’-door, and this dreadful scene being thus ended, the crowd began peaceably to separate.

In such an immense assemblage, as might be expected, some accidents occurred through the dreadful pressure of the crowd. Some women (and it is painful to record that many women were among the crowd) were brought out fainting, and a boy was severely hurt by the falling of a part of the railing in front of St. Sepulchre’s church. The persons whose weight brought down the railing from the stone base in which it was planted, were thrown on the shoulders of those beneath them, and caused great confusion at the moment, but no more serious accidents occurred than the injury received by the boy above-mentioned.

In addition to the military arrangements on this awful occasion, which we have incidentally mentioned, it was thought necessary to adopt the following precautionary measures, that should any thing like a breach of the peace be attempted, it might be crushed in its infancy; and it is a pleasing part of our duty here to record the prudence which gave rise to these measures, the very excellent and effectual manner in which they were carried into execution, and, above all, the exemplary conduct of the soldiers who were on duty throughout the morning, although they were at times severely, and indeed unavoidably pressed upon by the crowd. The Life Guards were incessantly attentive to prevent their horses from doing any injury, while occasionally driven out of their position by the momentary agitation of the persons immediately near them.

At a very early hour, the neighbourhood of Blackfriars-bridge, being the place appointed for the rendezvous of a considerable number of troops, presented a very novel spectacle. At five o’clock in the morning, six light field-pieces of flying artillery arrived in front of the livery stables, near Christ Church, escorted by the usual complement of men. They drew up in the centre of the street, and remained there until after the execution took place.

At a still earlier hour, three troops of the Life Guards arrived in the neighbourhood of Newgate; one troop and a picquet remained near the scaffold; another picquet was stationed in Ludgate-hill, facing the Old Bailey; and the remaining troop drew up in Bridge-street.

The moment the prisoners were about to be brought out to the scaffold, an officer rode from his station in front of Newgate, communicated with the picquet on Ludgate-hill, and then rode on to the troop in Bridge-street, to whom he immediately gave the word of command to advance. The troop instantly followed the officer, and proceeded onwards until they joined the picquet on Ludgate-hill, with which they halted, and formed in a line, still facing the Old Bailey.

The flying artillery, near Christ Church, also made a movement in advance just at the same time, and formed a crescent across the road; the guns pointing towards the bridge.

The City Light Horse were under arms, in their barracks in Gray’s-Inn-lane, and a number of troops were stationed at various depôts, assigned them at convenient intervals throughout the metropolis.

A little before ten, the multitude having completely dispersed, the detachments marched off to their respective barracks.

DISPOSAL OF THE BODIES.

On the day of execution the friends of the families of the unfortunate men who were executed met at a public-house, and after some discussion upon the subject of raising a subscription for the wives and children of those who were transported, as well as of those who were hanged, adopted a resolution to apply through Lord Sidmouth for leave to take away the bodies of the deceased from Newgate.

The following petition was accordingly drawn up, in the names of the widows of the wretched criminals, and forwarded to Lord Sidmouth, to be by him delivered to his majesty:

_To His Most Gracious Majesty the King._

“SIRE,

“The Petition of Susan Thistlewood, Mary Tidd, Mary Brunt, Celia
Ings, and Sarah Davidson, humbly sheweth, That your Petitioners
are the widows of the unfortunate men who this morning suffered
the dreadful sentence of the law at the Old Bailey.

“Your petitioners most earnestly entreat your Majesty to grant
them one consolation, by restoring to them the mangled remains
of their late unfortunate husbands, that they, your petitioners,
may shed a silent tear over their mutilated remains, ere they are
consigned to the tomb.

“We are confident that all desire of further vengeance has ceased,
and that your Majesty will be graciously pleased to order the
restoration of the bodies to your humble Petitioners, that they
may have them decently interred; and your Petitioners will, as in
duty bound, for ever pray, _&c._

(Signed)
“SUSAN THISTLEWOOD,
“MARY TIDD,
“MARY BRUNT,
“CELIA INGS,
“SARAH DAVIDSON.”

The petition was accompanied by a request to his Lordship that the bodies might be given up to the friends of the deceased, and stating, that the object was the humane one of raising the means of support for the wives and children by a public exhibition.

It is almost unnecessary to state that Lord Sidmouth did not hesitate to refuse the request, a compliance with which would be attended with great inconvenience at least. His lordship stated, in the mildest terms, the impossibility of granting it, contrary as such compliance would be to established usage.

At a late hour in the evening, the wives of the executed men were informed by the keeper of Newgate, that the bodies of their husbands were buried.

In the course of the afternoon a channel had been dug alongside of the subterraneous passage that leads to the cells, and, about seven in the evening, after the coffins had been filled with quick lime, they were strongly screwed up, placed in a line with each other, strewed over with earth, and finally covered with stones, and of course no trace of their end remains for any future public observation. On this circumstance being communicated to their unhappy wives, they were entirely overcome by the poignancy of their feelings.

On the following morning an individual petition was forwarded to the Privy-Council on the part of Mrs. Thistlewood, and was presented to his Majesty, for the body of her husband. A laconic answer was almost immediately returned, “That Thistlewood was buried.”

_Transportation of the respited Traitors, Discharge of the suspected Persons, &c._

VERY early in the morning of Tuesday, the 2d of May, the day following the execution of their partners in crime, five of the respited traitors, namely, Wilson, Harrison, Cooper, Strange, and Bradburn, were removed from Newgate in three post-chaises, and conveyed under a proper escort to Portsmouth, where they were put on board a convict-ship, which soon after sailed for New South Wales.

Gilchrist was still detained in Newgate, but it was expected his confinement would not be of long duration; the peculiar circumstances of his case having excited a feeling of mercy towards him.

On Saturday the 6th of May, the following persons, whose arrests on suspicion we have previously mentioned, were placed at the bar of the Old Bailey, previous to the adjournment of the court, _viz._ Thomas Preston, William Simmons, Abel Hall, Robert George, William Firth, and William Hazard. The prisoners being addressed by order of the court, and informed that, as no prosecutors appeared against them, they were discharged, bowed respectfully, and departed, with the exception of Preston, who made an attempt to address the Court, but was immediately silenced.

We have now completed, as far as the individuals arrested were concerned, our narration of the whole of the proceedings relative to the horrid conspiracy, which at one time threatened such awful consequences; but as many circumstances connected with the personal history of the conspirators have been brought to light in the course of the proceedings, which could not well be interwoven in the history of their crimes, we have added in an APPENDIX such particulars respecting the principal actors in this dreadful tragedy, as we have been able to collect, from a conviction that every circumstance connected with the lives of the ferocious criminals will be considered as interesting.

The infamous Spy and instigator, GEORGE EDWARDS, has also been frequently named as playing a very prominent part in this horrid drama, and, independent of the disclosures of his criminal conduct, incidentally made in the course of the judicial proceedings against the conspirators, the answers given by Thistlewood to the questions put to him by Mr. Alderman Wood, on the morning of the fatal first of May, imparted a certain degree of interest to every circumstance connected with that vile character, and a feeling of indignation, horror, and disgust, was excited in the public mind relative to this consummate villain, which had never been equalled but in the sensation caused by the first discovery of the plot itself.

Consonant with these feelings were the proceedings instituted by Mr. Alderman Wood, both in and out of Parliament, for the apprehension and bringing to trial of this worthless wretch on charges of diverse acts of high treason alleged to have been committed by him; and although we stop not to inquire whether the protection from the consequences of his crimes, experienced by this fellow, be justifiable, or otherwise, we shall certainly be rendering an acceptable service to society and to future generations, in tracing this serpent through all his intricate paths of villany, and cautioning the thoughtless and unsuspecting from becoming the dupes of similar villains, (if any such exist) in their intemperate moments of political animosity.

With this view we have collected all the particulars attainable of the conduct of this arch-fiend both in public or private, as an appropriate addition to the lives of his partners in crime, and, perhaps, in some respects, the victims of his villany.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] See Newgate Calendar, Vol. 3.

[3] See Newgate Calendar, Vol. 2.

APPENDIX:

CONTAINING

_Brief Sketches of the Lives of the Executed Conspirators, with
copies of their Letters; an account of the infamous George
Edwards, the Spy; the efforts made to bring him to justice, and
the Parliamentary Proceedings thereon; with other particulars
relating to the Conspiracy._

ARTHUR THISTLEWOOD.

In page 70, of the preceding narrative, we have briefly touched on the history of this ill-fated man, and we now add some further particulars relating to him.

Very early in life he manifested idle and unsettled habits, and remained a burden on his family until the period of his obtaining a commission in the Militia, soon after which he married a young lady of property; but even that step, so promising in the outset, was pregnant with future troubles. Thistlewood had supposed her fortune to be at her own disposal, but it was in fact so settled, that she received the interest only during her life, and the principal, at her death, reverted to her relations. Sixteen months after their marriage, she died in child-bed, and Thistlewood was left almost without a shilling of her property.

* * * * * * * * * *

In London he formed an acquaintance with a number of young military officers; was introduced into all the vices and dissipation of the metropolis, and gave loose to his passion for intrigue and gaming. On one night he was filched by a notorious black leg, and some of his companions, at one of the _Hells_, in the neighbourhood of St. James’s, of upwards of 2,000_l._ His money being nearly all gone, he fled in despair. Legal proceedings were commenced to recover the amount; but, owing to some informality in the pleadings, it was not recovered; and, soon after, those who had pigeoned him left the kingdom.

* * * * * * * * * *

In France his evil genius still followed him; on one occasion, having an improper passport, he was detained by the police, and during his detention, a circumstance occurred which produced him a long period of confinement. He had always expressed himself a hater of oppression and injustice. An Englishman, named Heely, was arrested for being without a passport, and conveyed to the same prison where Thistlewood was confined. Upon Thistlewood and Heely receiving orders from Paris for their liberation, Heely used some insulting language to the officer who brought him to prison; the officer struck him with a cane, and Thistlewood knocked the officer down with his clenched fist.

In consequence of this outrage, they were thrown into close confinement, and lay there for several weeks before they were able to obtain their final liberation.

Thistlewood having obtained a passport, then went to Paris, having sufficient knowledge of the French language to be able to converse. He entered the French service, and was present during the perpetration of numberless atrocities by the French troops.

Although a man of but middling talent, he had a considerable knowledge of military tactics; was an excellent swordsman, and always fearless of death.

He entered a regiment of French grenadiers, and was at the battle of Zurich, commanded by General ----.

After a variety of adventures in France and on different parts of the Continent, he returned to England, and became possessed of a considerable estate, by the death of a relation; which he subsequently sold to a gentleman at Durham for 10,000_l._

He felt inclined to settle himself, and courted Miss Wilkinson of Horncastle. The gentleman to whom he sold his estate, instead of paying him the money, gave him an annuity bond, agreeing to pay him 850_l._ per annum for a number of years. In eighteen months this purchaser became a bankrupt, and Thistlewood was again reduced, not to want or poverty, but his finances were at a low ebb.

Thistlewood’s father and brother, both of whom now reside and are most respectable farmers in the neighbourhood of Horncastle, assisted him to take a farm; he continued to occupy it till he found he was losing annually a considerable sum, in consequence of the high rent and taxes, and farming produce being very low; he then parted with it. He came with his present wife and son to London, and formed an acquaintance with the Spenceans.

The Evanses were his constant companions; he took young Evans to France, paying all expenses for near twelve months; and since his return his history is but too well recorded in the annals of crime.

The son who took an affecting leave of him in prison, is not the offspring of the first marriage, but a natural child of Thistlewood’s, whom his second wife (the present widow) took under her care shortly after her marriage, and to whom she has shown great kindness. By the widow he had no issue.

The following lines are said to have been written by him while under sentence of death in Newgate:--

Oh what a twine of mischief is a Statesman!
Ye furies! whirlwinds! and ye treach’rous rocks!
Ye ministers of death! devouring fires!
Convulsive earthquakes! and plague-tainted air!
Ye are all mild and merciful to him!!

RICHARD TIDD

Was born at Grantham, in Lincolnshire. His age at the time of his execution was forty-five. He was apprenticed to Mr. Cante, of Grantham, but quitted his situation at sixteen years of age. He then went to Nottingham, where he lived two years and a half; from thence he came to London, where he resided several years. He thought it prudent to retreat into Scotland in 1803, and he stopped there for five years.