Chapter XXIV: Part 24

To this, as well as to the rest of her letters, Mr. Errington preserved a strict silence, and in about a month after Miss Broadric carried out her dreadful resolution. On Friday morning, the 15th of May, she dressed herself elegantly, and going to the Three Nuns Inn, Whitechapel, she took her place in the Southend coach, which passed close to Mr. Errington's seat. Having descended at the avenue-gate, she went towards the house, but being seen by Mr. Errington, he begged Mrs. Errington to retire for a few minutes, saying that "his tormentor was coming, but that he would soon get rid of her." The latter, however, desired him to leave the interview to her management, and desiring her husband to go into the drawing-room, she awaited the arrival of Miss Broadric in the parlour. In the mean time the latter had entered the house by the kitchen, and having learned from the footman that Mr. Errington was at home, she was proceeding up stairs, attended by the gardener, when she met Mrs. Errington. She demanded to see Mr. Errington, and was told that he was not to be seen, but saying "I am not to be so satisfied; I know the ways of this house too well, and will search for him:" she rushed up stairs into the drawing-room. She there found the object of her inquiry, and going up to him she suddenly drew from her pocket a small brass-barrelled pistol, with a new hagged flint, and presenting it to his left side in a direction towards his heart, exclaimed, "Errington, I am come to perform my dreadful promise," and she immediately fired. Mrs. Errington, who had followed her, fainted, but Miss Broadric observing that Mr. Errington did not fall, she said that she feared she had not despatched him. Mr. Errington demanded to know how he had deserved such treatment at her hands, but she made no answer, and the servants, alarmed by the report of the pistol, then coming into the room, she threw the pistol on the carpet, and exclaimed, laughing, "Here, take me; hang me; do what you like with me: I do not care now." Mr. Miller, a surgeon, soon after attended, and found that the ball had penetrated the lowest rib, had cut three ribs asunder, and then passed round the back, and lodged under the shoulder-bone, from whence every effort was made to extract it, but in vain. Mr. Button, a magistrate, now came, who took the examination of Mr. Errington after his wound was dressed. He asked Miss Broadric what could induce her to commit such an act of extreme violence, and her answer was, "That she was determined that neither Mr. Errington nor herself should long outlive her lost peace of mind!" Mr. Errington entreated the magistrate not to detain her in custody, but let her depart, as he was sure he should do well; but this request Miss Broadric refused to accept, and the magistrate to grant. Her commitment being made out, she was conveyed that evening to Chelmsford jail, where she remained tolerably composed till she heard of Mr. Errington's death, when she burst into a flood of tears, and lamented bitterly that she had been its cause. The coroner's inquest sat on the body on Tuesday, the 19th of May, and brought in their verdict, "Wilful murder, by the hands of Anne Broadric." Mr. Errington was in the thirty-ninth year of his age.

Friday, the 17th of July, was fixed for the trial of the prisoner, and at six o'clock in the morning, the prisoner was conveyed from the jail, in a chaise, to a room in the shire-hall; and about ten minutes before the Lord Chief Baron Macdonald, the sheriffs, and magistrates, appeared on the bench, she was conveyed into the bail-dock in the criminal court, attended by three ladies and her apothecary. She was dressed in mourning, without powder; and, after the first perturbations were over, occasioned by the concourse of surrounding spectators, she sat down on a chair prepared for her, and was tolerably composed, except at intervals, when she discovered violent agitations, as her mind became affected by various objects and circumstances. When the indictment was reading, she paid a marked attention to it; and on the words, "that on the right breast of the said G. Errington she did wilfully and feloniously inflict one mortal wound," &c. she exclaimed, "Oh, my great God!" and burst into a torrent of tears.

The facts above stated having been proved in evidence, the prisoner's counsel proceeded to call witnesses in support of her defence, who all joined in stating, that they had known her repeatedly to exhibit symptoms of insanity.

This defence was not traversed by the counsel on the other side, and the Jury, after a few minutes' consideration, returned a verdict of not guilty.

The judges, on leaving the town, after the assizes were over, directed that Miss Broadric should be examined before two magistrates, that she might be safely removed, under their order, to the place of her settlement, with a particular recommendation annexed thereto, that she might be taken all possible care of.

THE REV. MR. JACKSON.

CONVICTED OF TREASON.

IN connexion with the case of the unfortunate, or rather the fortunate, Mr. Hamilton Rowan, this case may prove interesting, as showing the extent to which that gentleman was engaged in plotting against the Government. Mr. Jackson was a native of Ireland, and a minister of the Church of England. Early in life he preached at Tavistock Chapel, London, and for several years resided in chambers in Lyon's Inn; but the emoluments of his clerical occupation not affording him a sufficient subsistence, he applied his talents to literature, and was for a considerable time editor of a newspaper, in which situation he made himself very conspicuous. He afterwards entered into a criminal conspiracy, and was tried at Dublin for high treason, on the 23d of April, 1795.

The indictment charged the prisoner with two species of treason, namely, compassing the king's death, and adhering to his enemies; and stated fourteen overt acts. The Attorney-general opened the prosecution on the part of the Crown; and having dwelt at some length on the doctrine of treason, proceeded to substantiate the charges in the indictment, for which purpose he called Mr. Cockayne, an attorney of London, who deposed that he had been for a series of years the law-agent and intimate friend of Mr. Jackson, who a few years since went to France (as the witness understood) to transact some private business for Mr. Pitt, where he resided a considerable time. Soon after his return, Mr. Cockayne said he called on Jackson, who told him in confidence that he had formed a design of going to Ireland, to sound the people, for the purpose of procuring a supply of provisions, &c. from them for the French, and requested him (the witness) to accompany him. Having accepted the invitation, he immediately waited on Mr. Pitt, and discovered to him the whole of Mr. Jackson's plans. The minister thanked him for the information, and hinted that, as the matter was to become a subject of legal investigation, it would be necessary for him to substantiate the allegations; the witness in consequence accompanied Mr. Jackson to Ireland, for the purpose of making himself acquainted with his proceedings. Shortly after their arrival in Dublin, where they lived together, the prisoner expressed a wish to be introduced to Mr. Hamilton Rowan, who was then confined in Newgate; and at length, through the interference of a friend, he obtained an interview, at which Mr. Cockayne was present. In the course of conversation, the prisoner delivered two papers to Mr. Rowan, for the purpose of convincing him that he was a person in whom he might confide. From that time an intimacy took place between them; and the witness always accompanied Mr. Jackson in his visits to Mr. Rowan, and constantly took a part in their conversation. They agreed, he said, that a person should be sent to France to procure a force to make a descent on Ireland; and Counsellor Wolfe Tone was mentioned as a fit person for that purpose, who at first appeared to acquiesce, but afterwards declined the office. Dr. Reynolds was then proposed by Mr. Rowan, but objected to by the prisoner, as he did not understand the French language. It was, however, at length agreed that the doctor should undertake the embassy; but in a short time, he also refused to enter into the business. On this, it was agreed that Mr. Jackson should write several letters, which were directed for a Mr. Stone, of the firm of Lawrence and Co., London. These contained inclosures for houses at Hamburgh and Amsterdam; and some of them, to the French agents, described the situation of Ireland at the time, invited an invasion, and pointed out the proper places to land. These letters having been sent to the Post-office, the witness went to the secretary and informed him of the subject of them, on which they were detained. The plot, matured thus far, having been discovered, the prisoner was taken into custody.

The defence was grounded upon the suggestion, that the evidence adduced in support of the prosecution was undeserving of credit; but the jury found the prisoner guilty.

A motion, in arrest of judgment, was then made by Mr. Curran, who appeared as counsel for the prisoner, on a point of law; in consequence of which, he was remanded. He was brought up again on the 30th April; when, before the arguments of counsel commenced, he was observed to be in a sinking state, and an apothecary being called in, he was found to have taken poison. He expired almost immediately afterwards in the presence of the Court and Bar.

LEWIS JEREMIAH AVERSHAW.

EXECUTED FOR MURDER, IN SHOOTING A PEACE-OFFICER.

This criminal was one of the most daring and unrepentant sinners that ever died by the hands of the executioner. There has too frequently been, among the most hardened, an affected contempt of death, and a foolhardiness of behaviour, on their exit from this world, which makes every one shudder. In this criminal it was peculiarly exemplified.

Avershaw was an old offender, and had committed numerous crimes which called aloud for justice. He was at length brought to trial at Croydon, in Surrey, on the 30th of July, 1795, charged on two indictments; one for having, at the Three Brewers' public-house, Southwark, feloniously shot at, and murdered, David Price, an officer belonging to the police-office, held at Union Hall, in the Borough; the other, for having, at the same time and place, fired a pistol at Bernard Turner, another officer attached to that office, with intent to murder him. Mr. Garrow, the leading counsel for the prosecution, opened the case by stating, that the prisoner at the bar, being a person of ill-fame, had been suspected of having perpetrated a number of felonies; and the magistrates of the police-office in the borough of Southwark, having received information against him, sent, as was their duty, an order for his apprehension. To execute the warrant, the deceased, Price, and another officer, went to the Three Brewers, a public-house, where they understood he was drinking in company with some other persons. At the entrance of a parlour in the house the prisoner appeared in a posture of resistance; and holding a loaded pistol in each of his hands he, with threats and imprecations, desired the officers to stand off, as he would otherwise fire at them. The officers, however, attempted to rush in and seize him; on which he discharged both the pistols at the same instant, lodging the contents of one in the body of Price, and with the other wounding Turner very severely in the head. Price, after languishing a few hours, died of the wound. Mr. Garrow was very pathetic and animated in his description of the several circumstances composing the shocking act of barbarity. To prove it, he would call four witnesses, whose evidence, he said, would clearly establish the prisoner's guilt. He accordingly called Turner, the landlord of the house, a surgeon, and a fourth witness; but, as the substance of their evidence is comprised in the opening of the indictment, it would be superfluous to repeat it. Turner said positively, that he saw the prisoner discharge the pistols, from one of which he himself received his wound, and the contents of the other were lodged in the body of Price, who died very shortly after. The surgeon proved that the death was in consequence of the wound. Mr. Knowlys and Mr. Best were counsel for the prisoner; but the weight of the evidence against him was too strong to be combated by any exertions.

Mr. Baron Perryn summed up the evidence; and the jury, after a consultation of about three minutes, pronounced the verdict of guilty. Through a flaw in the indictment for the murder, an objection was taken by counsel. This was urged nearly two hours, when Mr. Baron Perryn intimating a wish to take the opinion of the twelve judges, the counsel for the prosecution, waving the point for the present, insisted on the prisoner's being tried on the second indictment, for feloniously shooting at Bernard Turner. He was accordingly tried; and, upon the testimony of one witness, found guilty on a second capital indictment. The prisoner, who, contrary to general expectation, had in a great measure hitherto refrained from his usual audacity, now began with unparalleled insolence of expression and gesture, to ask his lordship if he "was to be murdered by the evidence of one witness?" several times repeating the question, till the jury returned him--guilty. When Mr. Baron Perryn put on the black cap, the prisoner, regardless of his dreadful situation, at the same time put on his hat, observing the judge with contemptuous looks while he was passing the sentence.

When the constables were removing him from the dock to a coach, he continued to vent torrents of abuse against the judge and jury, whom he charged with, as he styled it, his murder. As his desperate disposition was well known, he was, to prevent resistance, handcuffed, and his thighs and arms also bound strongly together; in which situation he was conveyed back to prison. So callous was this ruffian to every degree of feeling, that on his way to be tried, as he was passing near the usual place of execution on Kennington Common, he put his head out of the coach window, and, with all the _sang froid_ imaginable, asked some of those who guarded him, if they did not think he would be _twisted_ on that pretty spot by Saturday? After receiving sentence of death, he was conducted back to prison; where having got some black cherries, he amused himself with painting on the white walls of the room in which he was confined, various sketches of robberies which he had committed; one representing him running up to the horses' heads of a post-chaise, presenting a pistol at the driver, and the words,--"D--n your eyes, stop," issuing out of his mouth; another exhibited a scene, where he was firing into the chaise; a third, where the parties had quitted the carriage, and several others, in which he was described in the act of taking the money from the passengers, being fired at, where his companions were shot dead, &c.

At the place of execution, he appeared entirely unconcerned. He had a flower in his mouth, his bosom was thrown open, and he kept up an incessant conversation with the persons who rode beside the cart; frequently laughing and nodding to others of his acquaintance, whom he perceived in the crowd.

He suffered August 3, 1795, at Kennington Common.

WILLIAM TILLEY, JOHN CROSSWELL, GEORGE HARDWICK, JAMES HAYDEN, JOHN HAWDEN, SIMON JACOBS, JOHN SOLOMONS, JOHN PHILLIPS, AND JOHN HENLEY.

CONVICTED OF A CONSPIRACY.

This most extraordinary conspiracy to procure the liberation of a prisoner occurred on the 4th of April 1795.

It appears that a fellow named Isdwell, a Jew, stood charged with a forgery on the Stamp-Office, and for security was committed to the custody of the keeper of the New Prison, Clerkenwell. On the day in question, he persuaded two of the turnkeys that an aunt of his, who was very rich, then lay at the point of death, and that he had been informed that, could she see him before she died, she would give him one thousand pounds.

He proposed, therefore, that if they would let him out, and accompany him to the place, he would give them fifty guineas each for their trouble: and suggested that the matter might be effected without the knowledge of the keeper of the prison, or any other person, they having the keys of it at night, and the time required being very short. To this proposal the turnkeys agreed; and accordingly, about one o'clock in the morning, the gates were opened, and Isdwell, with his irons on, was conducted in a hackney-coach by one of them, armed with a blunderbuss, to the house in Artillery-lane, Bishopsgate-street, where, inquiring for the sick lady, they were ushered up stairs.

Isdwell entered the room first, on which several fellows rushed forth, and attempted to keep the turnkey out; but, not succeeding, they put the candles out, wrested the blunderbuss out of his hand, and discharged it at him. At this instant Isdwell was endeavouring to make his escape out of the window, but he received the whole charge in his body, and fell dead on the spot. A desperate conflict then took place, in the course of which the jailor was very severely beaten, but some persons being attracted to the spot by the uproar, the officer was rescued, and the prisoners were apprehended, and lodged in safe custody.

The prisoners were tried for the murder of their companion, to which their offence in reality amounted, his death having been caused by them in executing an unlawful deed, on the 21st April; but the prosecution failed in consequence of the absence of any proof to establish the fact distinctly, the occurrence having happened in the dark; but, being detained to be tried for the conspiracy to procure the liberation of the deceased Isdwell, they were convicted, and received sentence of transportation.

CHARLES SCOLDWELL.

CONVICTED OF STEALING.

The case of this fellow may prove a wholesome lesson to some of the constables and bailiffs of the present day.

The very remarkable transaction, upon which the indictment against the prisoner arose, took place at Bedfont; and the trial came on at the Old Bailey, on the 23rd July 1796. The indictment charged the prisoner with feloniously stealing, taking, and carrying away two live tame ducks, the property of John Spurling, on the 22nd of the previous month of June.

From the evidence which was adduced, it appeared that Mr. Spurling was a baker at Bedfont, and that the prisoner was a bailiff. On the 22nd June, the latter was entrusted with a writ of execution against Mr. Spurling; and accompanied by his follower, a man named Taylor, he proceeded to Bedfont, to secure his person. The debt amounted to 16_l._ 7_s._; and at two o'clock at night the prisoner made his appearance at the prosecutor's house. Upon his being required to explain his business, he said that he had a writ, and that Mr. Spurling must accompany him to Newgate. Mr. Spurling demurred at proceeding to prison at so late an hour at night, and suggested that he might settle the demand; but the prisoner, with all the insolence usually assumed by persons holding similar situations, declared that there was no use in talking, and that the prosecutor must hire a post-chaise, and go off with him at once. This new demand of a post-chaise was looked upon as a hardship, almost equal to that of going to prison, by Mr. Spurling, and he offered his own one-horse chaise for the purpose of his transportation to town, but all was of no avail; the bailiff and the bully were united in the person of Mr. Scoldwell, and nothing but a post-chaise and an immediate visit to Newgate would suit his pleasure. At length, however, Mr. Taylor, his follower, whose caution was rather greater than that of his master, ventured to inquire what sort of a settlement could be tendered by Mr. Spurling, and the latter immediately offered to pay 15_l._, which he had in the house, and to give security for the remainder of the debt. "Have you a watch?" peremptorily demanded Mr. Scoldwell, "if so, I must have it;" and the poor baker was compelled to give up his watch, worth four times the amount of the balance of the demand. The officer, however, was not yet satisfied. "Such gentlemen as we," said he, "cannot come into the country without something to cover our expenses. You must pay us for our trouble and time;" and ten shillings in halfpence, the amount of the day's earnings in the shop, were handed over to him. His wife was as much an object of consideration as himself, he next suggested. She had been deprived of his company, and he must carry something to her by way of a recompense. Were there no fowls in the house? Mr. Spurling had none. A goose would do;--Mrs. Scoldwell was very fond of goose, and Mr. Spurling being entitled to a goose which was feeding on the common, Taylor was despatched to take possession of it on behalf of his master. Still, however, the bailiff was dissatisfied; and he demanded that some additional security should be given for the debt; and having discovered that the baker had a lease of his house, he procured that also to be delivered to him, together with a note for forty pounds, with a condition, that unless the debt and costs were paid within twenty-one days all should be his. Thus pretty well secured, the prisoner, between four and five o'clock in the morning, proposed to depart, and the baker proceeded to his oven. While there, however, he saw the prisoner go to his stable where his ducks were confined, and in the morning the two ducks, mentioned in the indictment, were found to have been carried off. On his way to London, the prisoner joked with the stage-coachman about his having done the baker out of his watch, and having carried off his ducks without his knowledge; and Mr. Spurling having subsequently redeemed his watch, lease, and the note of hand for 40_l._, by paying the balance of the debt and the costs, he immediately gave the prisoner into custody.

These facts being clearly proved in evidence, the Recorder summed up the case to the jury, and a verdict of guilty was returned.

The prisoner was afterwards sentenced to seven years transportation a punishment which he richly deserved.

JOSEPH HODGES AND RICHARD PROBIN.

CONVICTED OF CROSS DROPPING.

The trick of cross-dropping has become so notorious of late years, that, any description of the mode in which it was practised is almost unnecessary. As, however, this is the first case of the kind with which we have met in the course of our search in the records of crime, we shall give it a place in our calendar.

The dupe, in this instance, was William Headley, an ironmonger at Cambridge, who, on the trial of these robbers, deposed that on the 7th of July 1796, he was in town, going from Shoe-lane to the Angel Inn, St. Clement's, to take a place on the outside of the coach to go into Wiltshire; when he met Hodges who was a stranger in Butcher-row, and left him to take his place. He went on to Clare Market, where Hodges overtook him, and they walked together through Portugal-street. While in that street Hodges suddenly stopped, and clapping his cane on a parcel which was lying on the ground, said that he had a "finding." He picked up the parcel, and opened the outer covering, and the witness saw in it something like a red pocket-book. He inquired what it was? but the prisoner refused to show him in the street, and they, in consequence, went into a public-house in order to open it. Having called for some liquor, the prisoner opened the parcel, and produced from it what looked like a diamond cross, and a receipt in the following terms:--

"London. 20th June, 1796. Received of John King, Esq. the sum of three hundred and twenty pounds, for one brilliant diamond cross, by me, William Smith."

The prisoner seemed much alarmed and confused on seeing this, but the witness having read the receipt, suggested that the parcel should be taken to Mr. Smith. This, however, was opposed by Hodges, who asked whether they had not better inquire of the gentleman sitting by (the prisoner Probin) what his opinion was? This was assented to, and upon his being addressed, he suggested that Hodges ought to give the witness a present, as having been by when the cross was found, and that he should keep it. The cross was then taken out and examined, and Hodges said that he did not mind giving the witness something, but he must go to his banker's first, and get some drafts changed. He then went out, leaving the cross with the witness and Probin, but returned, saying that his banker was out, and could not be seen until four o'clock, and a meeting at that hour was eventually appointed to take place at the Angel Inn, St. Clement's. Each party then gave his name. Hodges said that he came from Worcester, and was a hop-merchant; and Probin said that his name was William Jones, and that he lived at No. 7, Charing-cross. A discussion now took place, to whom the care of the cross should be entrusted; and Probin suggested, that the witness perhaps would be better satisfied if it were left in his hands, and that if he deposited something he might carry it away until four o'clock. He asked what would be required, and they said that he ought to leave one hundred pounds at least. He then produced a Bank bill, payable on demand, for that amount from his stocking, where he had concealed it, and handing it to Hodges, he said that that would do. The witness then went away, but subsequently showing the cross to a friend, he found that it was quite valueless. Information was, in consequence, given at Bow-street of the robbery, and both prisoners were apprehended in the course of the ensuing day, money to the amount of nearly fifty pounds being found on each. It afterwards turned out, that the prisoner Hodges changed Mr. Headley's Bank bill almost immediately after he had received it. In his possession was found a second cross, precisely similar to that palmed off upon the prosecutor.

The prisoners being found guilty, were sentenced to be transported for seven years.

THE MUTINY AT THE NORE. RICHARD PARKER.

EXECUTED FOR MUTINY.

In the year 1797, when the threatening aspect of affairs abroad made the condition of her naval force a matter of vital consequence to Britain, several most alarming mutinies broke out among the various fleets stationed around the shores of the country. In April of the year mentioned, the seamen of the grand fleet lying at Portsmouth disowned the authority of their officers, seized upon the ships, and declared their determination not to lift an anchor, or obey any orders whatsoever, until certain grievances of which they complained were redressed. After some delay, satisfactory concessions were made to them by the government, and the men returned to their duty. But the spirit of insubordination had spread among other squadrons in the service, and about the middle of May, immediately after the Portsmouth fleet had sailed peacefully for the Bay of Biscay, the seamen of the large fleet lying at the Nore broke out also into open mutiny. The most prominent personage in this insurrection was an individual named Richard Parker, whose history it is our object in this paper to lay before the reader.

Richard Parker was a native of Exeter, where he was born about the year 1765 or 1766. His father was a reputable tradesman, and kept a baker's shop at St. Sidwell's, in the bounds of the city mentioned. Young Parker received an excellent education, and in the course of time went to sea, which he had chosen as the scene of his future career. He served for a considerable period in the royal navy as midshipman and master's mate, and at one period also, it is said, held the post of lieutenant. He appears to have given up the naval profession on his marriage with Miss Ann Machardy, a young lady resident in Exeter, but of Scottish origin, being a member of a respectable family in the county of Aberdeen. This connexion led Parker to remove to Scotland, where he embarked in some mercantile speculations that proved unsuccessful. The issue was, that he ere long found himself involved in difficulties, and without the means to maintain his wife and two children. In Edinburgh, where these embarrassments fell upon him, he had no friends to apply to, and, in a moment of desperation, he took the king's bounty, and became a common sailor on board a tender at Leith. When he communicated to his wife the step he had taken, she was in the greatest distress, and resolved to set off instantly for Aberdeen, in order to procure from her brother there the means of hiring two seamen as substitutes for her husband. Though successful in raising the necessary funds, no time was allowed her to complete her project. On her return from Aberdeen, she was only in time to see the tender sail for the Nore, with her husband on board. Her grief on this occasion was bitterly aggravated by the death of one of her children. Parker's sufferings were shown to be equally acute by his conduct when the vessel sailed. Exclaiming that he saw the body of his child floating on the waves, he leaped overboard, and was with difficulty rescued and restored to life.

It was in the beginning of May 1797 that Parker reached the Nore, or point of land dividing the mouths of the Thames and the Medway. Probably on account of his former experience and station as a seaman, he was drafted on board the Sandwich, which was the guard-ship, and bore the flag of Admiral Buckner, the port-admiral. The mutinous spirit which afterwards broke out, certainly existed on board of the Nore squadron before Parker's arrival. Communications were kept up in secret between the various crews, and the mischief was gradually drawing to a head. But though he did not originate the feeling of insubordination, the ardent temper, boldness, and superior intelligence of Parker, soon became known to his comrades, and he became a prominent man among them. Their plans being at length matured, the seamen rose simultaneously against their officers, and deprived them of their arms, as well as of all command in the ships, though behaving respectfully to them in all other respects. Each vessel was put under the government of a committee of twelve men, and, to represent the whole body of seamen, every man-of-war appointed two delegates, and each gun-boat one, to act for the common good. Of these delegates Richard Parker was chosen president, and, in an unhappy hour for himself, he accepted the office. This representative body drew up a list of grievances, of which they demanded the removal, offering to return immediately afterwards to their duty. It is unnecessary to specify these demands further, than that they related to increase of pay and provisions, a more equal division of prize-money, liberty to go on shore, proper payment of arrears, and other points of naval discipline. A committee of naval inquiry subsequently _granted_ almost all that was demanded, thereby acknowledging the general justice of the complaints made. Parker signed these documents, and they were published over the whole kingdom with his name, as well as presented to Port-admiral Buckner, through whom they were sent to government.

When these proceedings commenced, the mutineers were suffered to go on shore, and they paraded about Sheerness, where a part of the fleet lay, with music, flags (_red_ in colour--the customary hue of insubordination), and other appendages of a triumphal procession. But, on the 22d of May, troops were sent to Sheerness to put a stop to this indulgence. Being thus confined to their ships, the mutineers, having come to no agreement with Admiral Buckner, began to take more decisive measures for extorting compliance with their demands, as well as for insuring their own safety. The vessels at Sheerness moved down to the Nore, and the combined force of the insurgents, which at its greatest height consisted of twenty-four sail, proceeded to block up the Thames, by refusing a free passage, up or down, to the London trade. Foreign vessels, and a few small craft, were suffered to go by, first receiving a passport, signed by Richard Parker as president of the delegates. In a day or two the mutineers had an immense number of vessels under detention. The mode in which they kept these was as follows:--The ships of war were ranged in a line, at considerable distances from each other, and in the interspaces were placed the merchant-vessels, having the broadsides of the men-of-war pointed to them. The appearance of the whole assemblage is described as having been at once grand and appalling. The red flag floated from the mast-head of every one of the mutineer ships. It may be well imagined that the alarm of the citizens of London was extreme. The government, however, though unable at the period to quell the insurgents by force, remained firm in their demand of "unconditional submission as a necessary preliminary to any intercourse." This, perhaps, was the very best line of conduct that could have been adopted. The seamen, to their great honour, never seemed to think of assuming an offensive attitude, and were thereby left in quiet to meditate on the dangerous position in which they stood in hostility to a whole country. They grew timorous; the more so, as the government had caused all the buoys to be removed from the mouth of the Thames and the adjacent coasts, so that no vessel durst attempt to move away for fear of running aground. The mutineering vessels held together, nevertheless, till the 30th of May, when the Clyde frigate was carried off through a combination of its officers with some of the seamen, and was followed by the St. Fiorenzo. These vessels were fired upon, but escaped up the river.

On the 4th of June, the king's birth-day, the Nore fleet showed that their loyalty to their sovereign was undiminished, by firing a general salute. On the 5th, another frigate left the fleet, but its place was supplied by a sloop and four men-of-war, which had left Admiral Duncan's fleet at the Texel to join the mutiny. On the 6th, Lord Northesk met the delegates by desire on board the Sandwich, and received from them proposals for an accommodation, to which the unfortunate Parker still put his name as president. The answer was a direct refusal, and this firmness seems to have fairly humbled the remaining spirit of the mutineers. From that time one vessel after another deserted the band, and put themselves under the protection of the fort at Sheerness. On the 10th, the merchantmen were allowed by common consent to pass up the river, and such a multitude of ships certainly never entered a port by one tide. By the 12th, only seven ships had the red flag flying, and on the 16th the mutiny had terminated, every ship having been restored to the command of its officers. A party of soldiers went on board the Sandwich, and to them the officers surrendered the delegates of the ship, namely, a man named Davies, and Richard Parker.

Richard Parker, to whom the title of Admiral Parker had been given by the fleet and by the public during the whole of this affair, was the individual on whom all eyes were turned as the ringleader of the mutineers. He was brought singly to trial on the 22d of June, after being confined during the interval in the black-hole of Sheerness garrison. Ten officers, under the presidency of Vice-Admiral Sir Thomas Paisley, composed the court-martial, which sat on board the Neptune, off Greenhithe. The prisoner conducted his own defence, exhibiting great presence of mind, and preserving a respectful and manly deference throughout for his judges. The prosecution on the part of the Crown lasted two days, and on the 26th, Parker called witnesses in his favour, and read a long and able defence which he had previously prepared. The line of argument adopted by him was--that the situation he had held had been in a measure forced upon him; that he had consented to assume it chiefly from the hope of restraining the men from excesses; that he had restrained them in various instances; that he might have taken all the ships to sea, or to an enemy's ports, had his motives been disloyal, &c. &c. Parker unquestionably spoke the truth on many of these points. Throughout the whole affair, the injury done to property was trifling, the taking of some flour from a vessel being the chief act of the kind. This was mainly owing to him. But he had indubitably been the head of the mutineers. He was proved to have gone from ship to ship giving orders, and haranguing the men--to have been cheered as he passed along, and treated with the honours of a chief. Nothing could save him. He was sentenced to death. When his doom was pronounced, he stood up, and uttered these words in a firm voice: "I shall submit to your sentence with all due respect, being confident of the innocence of my intentions, and that God will receive me into favour; and I sincerely hope that my death will be the means of restoring tranquillity to the navy, and that those men who have been implicated in the business may be reinstated in their former situations, and again be serviceable to their country."

On the morning of the 30th of June, the yellow flag, the signal of death, was hoisted on board of the Sandwich, where Richard Parker lay, and where he was to meet his fate. The whole fleet was ranged a little below Sheerness, in sight of the Sandwich, and the crew of every ship was piped to the forecastle. Parker was awaked from a sound sleep on that morning, and after being shaved, he dressed himself in a suit of deep mourning. He mentioned to his attendants that he had made a will, leaving his wife heir to some property belonging to him. On coming to the deck, he was pale, but perfectly composed, and drank a glass of wine "to the salvation of his soul, and forgiveness of all his enemies!." He said nothing to his mates on the forecastle but "Good bye to you," and expressed a hope that "his death would be deemed a sufficient atonement, and save the lives of others!" He was strung up to the yard-arm at half-past nine o'clock. A dead silence reigned among the crews around during the ceremony. In closing their account of this affair, the journals of the day state that the body of Parker was put into a shell, and interred, within an hour or two after the execution, in the New Naval Burying Ground at Sheerness. A curious sequel to this account, however, it is now in our power to present to the reader.

Richard Parker's unfortunate wife had not left Scotland, when the rumour came to her ears that the Nore fleet had mutinied, and that the ringleader was one Richard Parker. She could not doubt that this was her husband, and immediately took a place in the mail for London, to save him if possible. On her arrival, she heard that Parker had been tried, but the result was unknown. Being able to think of no way but petitioning the king, she gave a person a guinea to draw up a paper, praying that her husband's life might be spared. She attempted to make her way with this to his majesty's presence, but was obliged finally to hand it to a lord-in-waiting, who gave her the cruel intelligence that all applications for mercy would be attended to, except for Parker. The distracted woman then took coach for Rochester, where she got on board a king's ship, and learnt that Parker was to be executed next day: she sat up, in a state of unspeakable wretchedness, the whole of that night, and at four o'clock in the morning went to the river-side, to hire a boat to take her to the Sandwich, that she might at least bid her poor husband farewell. Her feelings had been deeply agonised by hearing every person she met talking on the subject of her distress, and now, the first waterman to whom she spoke exclaimed, "No! I cannot take one passenger. The brave Admiral Parker is to die to-day, and I will get any sum I choose to ask for a party." Finally, the wretched wife was glad to go on board a Sheerness market-boat, but no boat was allowed to come alongside the Sandwich. In her desperation she called on Parker by name, and prevailed on the boat-people, by the mere spectacle of her suffering, to attempt to go nearer, when they were stopped by a sentinel threatening to fire at them. As the hour drew nigh, she saw her husband appear on deck between two clergymen. She called on him, and he heard her voice, for he exclaimed, "There is my dear wife from Scotland." Immediately afterwards, she fell back in a state of insensibility, and did not recover till some time after she was taken ashore. By this time all was over, but the poor woman could not believe it so. She hired another boat, and again reached the Sandwich. Her exclamation from the boat must have startled all who heard it. "Pass the word," she cried, in her delusion, "for Richard Parker!" The truth was now told to her, and she was further informed that his body had just been taken ashore for burial. She immediately caused herself to be rowed ashore again, and proceeded to the churchyard, but found the ceremony over, and the gate locked. She then went to the admiral and sought the key, which was refused to her. Excited almost to madness by the information that the surgeons would probably disinter the body that night, she waited around the churchyard till dusk, and then, clambering over the wall, readily found her husband's grave. The shell was not buried deep, and she was not long in scraping away the loose earth that intervened between her and the object of her search. She got the lid removed, and then she clasped the cold hand of her husband in her own!

Her determination to possess the body aroused the widow from the enjoyment of this melancholy pleasure. She left the churchyard, and communicated her situation to two women, who, in their turn, got several men to undertake the task of lifting the body. This was accomplished successfully, and at three o'clock in the morning, the shell containing the corpse was placed in a van, and conveyed to Rochester, where, for the sum of six guineas, Mrs. Parker procured another waggon to carry it to London. On the road they met hundreds of persons all inquiring about and talking of the fate of "Admiral Parker." At eleven P.M. the van reached London; but here the poor widow had no private house or friends to go to, and was obliged to stop at the Hoop and Horse-Shoe on Tower-Hill, which was full of people. Mrs. Parker got the body into her room, and sat down beside it; but the secret could not long be kept in such a place, more particularly as the news of the exhumation had been brought by express that day to London. A great crowd, by and bye, assembled about the house, anxious to see the body of Parker, which, however, the widow would not permit. The Lord Mayor heard of the affair, and came to ask the widow what she intended to do with her husband's remains. She replied, "To inter them decently at Exeter or in Scotland." The Lord Mayor said that the body would not be taken from her, but prevailed on her to have it decently buried in London. Arrangements were made with this view, and finally the corpse of the unfortunate Parker was inhumed in Whitechapel churchyard; although not until it had to be removed to Aldgate workhouse, on account of the crowds attracted by it, and which caused some fears lest "Admiral Parker's remains should create a civil war." After the closing ceremony was over, Mrs. Parker, who had in person seen her husband consigned to the grave, gave a certificate that all had been done to her satisfaction. But, though strictly questioned as to the parties who had aided her in the disinterment, she firmly refused to disclose their names.

Parker, as has been said, made a will, leaving to his wife a small property on which he had claims near Exeter. This she enjoyed for a number of years, but ultimately her rights, whether erroneously or not, were decided to be invalid, and she was deprived of the pittance which had formed her maintenance. She was thrown into great distress, and was compelled to solicit assistance from the charitable, having become nearly if not entirely blind. The late King William gave her at one time 10_l._, and at another 20_l._ In 1836, the forlorn and miserable condition of poor Parker's widow was made known to the London magistrates, and a temporary refuge was provided for her. But temporary assistance was of little avail to one whose physical infirmities rendered her incapable any longer of helping herself, and again her miserable condition came under the cognizance of the public authorities. An appeal to the charitable has recently been made, by a portion of the daily press, in her favour, but with what success we are unable to say. She is now seventy years of age, blind, and friendless. Time and misfortune have not quenched her affection for the partner of her early days. Of him she yet speaks with all the enthusiasm of youthful affection, and still mourns his fate.

MARIA THERESA PHIPOE, _alias_ MARY BENSON

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

We do not recollect ever to have seen the case of any woman who has exhibited so much masculine determination as Mrs. Phipoe. She was twice tried at the Old Bailey upon charges equally atrocious, and each equally exhibiting the ferocity of her disposition.

In the first case, the indictment charged that she had feloniously assaulted Mr. John Cortois, with intent to kill and murder him. Her trial came on at the Old Bailey in the month of January 1795, when it was proved in evidence that the prisoner was a person of abandoned character, and that she kept a house, where she was in the habit of receiving visits of a certain character from gentlemen. Among her other patrons was Mr. John Cortois, a gentleman of considerable property; and it appears that Mr. Cortois having called upon her one evening, he was alarmed at finding himself suddenly seized from behind by his paramour, and her servant, a woman almost as powerful as herself, by whom he was speedily overpowered, and bound to his chair with strong cords. His person being thus secured, Mrs. Phipoe immediately, with horrid imprecations, demanded that he should sign a note or bill in her favour for 2000_l._, threatening that, in the event of his refusal, she would instantly cut his throat; and even enforcing her demands by holding a knife at his throat in such a position as that on the smallest movement on his part would have procured the infliction of a wound. In a state of the utmost terror and alarm, he consented to attach his name to the instrument which was produced, ready drawn by Mrs. Phipoe, and then he imagined, as a matter of course, that he should be at liberty. But Mrs. Phipoe by this time had begun to consider the possibility of his preventing the negotiation of the note, and determining that "Dead men tell no tales," she had made up her mind that he should have no opportunity of disclosing the means by which it had been obtained. For this diabolical purpose, she now made a violent attack upon him with a knife, and wounded him in many places; but Mr. Cortois, becoming desperate in his turn, burst the bonds by which he was confined with a violent effort, and attacked his assailant. A struggle took place, in which Mr. Cortois was again mastered by the united efforts of Mrs. Phipoe and her servant; and then a choice was tendered to him whether he would die by poison, by being shot, or by the knife which Mrs. Phipoe brandished in a threatening manner over his head. The unfortunate gentleman was now much weakened by loss of blood, and was almost prevented from opposing the further violence of his demoniac assailants, when, luckily, the cries which he had raised brought him assistance in the shape of a watchman, through whose instrumentality Mrs. Phipoe was secured.

Upon this testimony a verdict of guilty was returned; but a point of law being subsequently raised in favour of the prisoner, it was declared that the judgment must be arrested.

Mrs. Phipoe was, however, subsequently, on the 23rd of May, indicted for the common assault upon Mr. Cortois, and a verdict of guilty having been a second time returned, she was subjected to twelve months' imprisonment in Newgate.

A year had scarcely elapsed after the termination of the period of her incarceration, before Mrs. Phipoe, or Mrs. Benson, as she was now called, was again in custody on a charge of murder.

She was indicted on the 8th of December 1797, for the wilful murder of Mary Cox; and it appeared that at the time of the commission of this offence, the prisoner lived in lodgings in Garden-street, St. George's in the East. On the night of the murder, Mrs. Cox called upon her; but within a short time after she had entered her room, a scuffle was heard, followed by loud groans. The mistress of the house demanded to know the cause of the disturbance, but the prisoner declared that it was only Mrs. Cox in a fit. The door being opened, however, Mrs. Benson was observed to be covered with blood, and Mrs. Cox was found lying on the ground desperately wounded. Two persons immediately went for a doctor, while a constable was also sent for, by whom the prisoner was taken into custody. Mrs. Cox, on being examined, was found to have sustained some severe wounds, from which there was no prospect of her recovering; and she pointed out Mrs. Benson as the person by whom they had been inflicted. A large clasp-knife, covered with blood, was found on the table in the room; and by its side lay a part of a finger; and on Mrs. Benson being questioned, she admitted that that was the knife with which "she had done the woman's business;" and said that her own finger had been cut off in the scuffle. Mrs. Cox subsequently died in the hospital, from the effects of the stabs she had received, having previously made a declaration before a magistrate as to the circumstances attending her murder. She said that having purchased a gold watch of the prisoner for 11_l._, she asked that a coffee-cup, which she pointed out, might be given to her into the bargain. The prisoner bade her take it; but on her raising her hand to remove it from the shelf, she received a stab in the neck, which was followed by many others in the same place and on different parts of her body. The prisoner subsequently got her on the bed, and swore that she would murder her outright, that she should not tell her own tale; but she was interrupted by the entrance of the landlady.

The prisoner in her defence declared that Mrs. Cox had abused her, and had violently wounded her, so as to cut off part of her finger before she offered any violence to her; but that then, being maddened with pain and rage, she admitted she had attacked her. She knew nothing of what subsequently occurred, until she was found by her landlady in her own room covered with blood.

The jury having returned a verdict that the prisoner was guilty, she behaved with great hardihood, frequently interrupting the learned judge (Mr. Baron Perryn) in his observations, while condemning her to death.

Sentence having been passed, however, that she should be hanged and subsequently dissected, she was removed from the bar, and then she appeared to be fully sensible of her guilt, and of the nature of her present position.

She was executed before Newgate, December the 11th, 1797; and after hanging an hour in the view of a great number of spectators, one-third of whom were females, the body was cut down, and delivered to the surgeons for dissection.