Chapter IX: Part 9

His career in life began in the year 1692, when he was appointed a captain in Lord Tullibardine's regiment, but he resigned his commission in order to prosecute his claim to be the Chief of the Frasers; in order to effect which, he laid a scheme to get possession of the heiress of Lovat, who was about to be married to a son of Lord Salton. He raised a clan, who violently seized the young lord, and, erecting a gibbet, showed it to him and his father, threatening their instant death unless they relinquished the contract made for the heiress of Lovat. To this, fearing for their lives, they consented; but still unable to get possession of the young lady, he seized the dowager Lady Lovat in her own house, caused a priest to marry them against her consent, cut her stays open with his dirk, and, assisted by his ruffians, tore off her clothes, forced her into bed, to which he followed her, and then called his companions to witness the consummation of the outrageous marriage. For this breach of the peace he was indicted, but fled from justice; but he was, nevertheless, tried for a rape, and for treason, in opposing the laws with an armed force; and sentence of outlawry was pronounced against him. Having fled to France, he turned papist, ingratiated himself with the Pretender, and was rewarded by him with a commission; but he was apprehended on the remonstrance of the English ambassador in Paris, and lodged in the Bastile, where having remained some years, he procured his liberty by taking priest's orders, under colour of which he became a Jesuit in the college of St. Omer's.

In the first rebellion of 1715 he returned to Scotland, and joining the king's troops, assisted them in seizing Inverness from the rebels; for which service he got the title of Lovat, was appointed to command, and had other favours conferred upon him. In the rebellion of which we are now treating, he turned sides, and joined the Pretender; a step treacherous in the extreme. When taken, he was old, unwieldy, and almost helpless; although in that condition he had been possessed of infinite resources to assist the rebellion. He petitioned the Duke of Cumberland for mercy; and, hoping to work upon his feelings, recapitulated his former services, the favours that he had received from the duke's grandfather, King George I., and dwelt much upon his access to court, saying "he had carried him to whom he now sued for life in his arms, and, when a baby, held him up, while his grandsire fondled upon him."

On the 9th March 1747, however, he was taken from the Tower to Westminster Hall for trial, and the evidence adduced clearly proving his guilt to be of no ordinary character, he was convicted. He was next day brought up for judgment, and sentence of death was pronounced.

That this sentence was not ill deserved, appears from a speech of Lord Belhaven, delivered in the last parliament, held in Edinburgh in 1706, in which his lordship, speaking of this nobleman, then Captain Fraser, on occasion of the Scots plot, commonly called Fraser's plot, says "That he deserved, if practicable, to have been hanged five several times, in five different places, and upon five different accounts at least; as having been notoriously a traitor to the court of St. James's, a traitor to the court of St. Germain's, a traitor to the court of Versailles, and a traitor to his own country of Scotland; in being not only an avowed and restless enemy to the peace and quiet of its established government and constitution, both in church and state, but, likewise, a vile Proteus-like apostate, and a seducer of others in point of religion, as the tide or wind changed: and, moreover, that (abstracted from all those, his multiplied acts of treason, abroad and at home) he deserved to be hanged as a condemned criminal, outlaw, and fugitive, for the barbarous, cruel, and most flagitious rape, he had, with the assistance of some of his vile and abominable band of ruffians, violently committed on the body of a right honourable and virtuous lady, the widow of the late Lord Lovat, and sister of his Grace the late Duke of Athol. Nay, so hardened was Captain Fraser, that he audaciously erected a gallows, and threatened to hang thereon one of the said lady's brothers, and some other gentlemen of quality, who accompanied him in going to rescue him out of that criminal's cruel hand."

On the morning fixed for his execution, 9th April 1747, Lord Lovat, who was now in his 80th year, and very large and unwieldy in his person, awoke at about three o'clock, and was heard to pray with great devotion. At five o'clock he arose, and asked for a glass of wine and water, and at eight o'clock, he desired that his wig might be sent, that the barber might have time to comb it out genteelly, and he then provided himself with a purse to hold the money which he intended for the executioner. At about half-past nine o'clock he ate heartily of minced veal, and ordered that his friends might be provided with coffee and chocolate, and at eleven o'clock the sheriff's came to demand his body. He then requested his friends to retire while he said a short prayer; but he soon called them back, and said that he was ready.

At the bottom of the first pair of stairs, General Williamson invited him into his room to rest himself, which he did, and, on his entrance, paid his respects to the company politely, and talked freely. He desired of the general, in French, that he might take leave of his lady, and thank her for her civilities; but the general told his lordship, in the same language, that she was too much affected with his lordship's misfortunes to bear the shock of seeing him, and therefore hoped his lordship would excuse her. He then took his leave, and proceeded. At the door he bowed to the spectators, and was conveyed from thence to the outer gate in the governor's coach, where he was delivered to the sheriffs, who conducted him in another coach to the house near the scaffold, in which was a room lined with black cloth, and hung with sconces, for his reception. His friends were at first denied entrance; but, upon application made by his lordship to the sheriffs for their admittance, it was granted. Soon after, his lordship, addressing himself to the sheriffs, thanked them for the favour, and, taking a paper out of his pocket, delivered it to one of them, saying he should make no speech, and that they might give the word of command when they pleased. A gentleman present beginning to read a prayer to his lordship while he was sitting, he called one of the warders to help him up, that he might kneel. He then prayed silently a short time, and afterwards sat again in his chair. Being asked by one of the sheriffs if he would refresh himself with a glass of wine, he declined it, because no warm water could be had to mix with it, and took a little burnt brandy and bitters in its stead. He requested that his clothes might be delivered to his friends with his corpse, and said for that reason he should give the executioner ten guineas. He also desired of the sheriffs that his head might be received in a cloth, and put into the coffin, which the sheriffs, after conferring with some gentlemen present, promised should be done; as also that the holding up the head at the corners of the scaffold should be dispensed with, as it had been of late years at the execution of lords. When his lordship was going up the steps to the scaffold, assisted by two warders, he looked round, and, seeing so great a concourse of people, "God save us," says he, "why should there be such a bustle about taking off an old grey head, that cannot get up three steps without three bodies to support it?"

Turning about, and observing one of his friends much dejected, he clapped him on the shoulder, saying, "Cheer up thy heart, man! I am not afraid; why should you be so?" As soon as he came upon the scaffold, he asked for the executioner, and presented him with ten guineas in a purse, and then, desiring to see the axe, he felt the edge, and said, "he believed it would do." Soon after, he rose from the chair which was placed for him, and looked at the inscription on his coffin, and on sitting down again, he repeated from Horace,

"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori;"

and afterwards from Ovid,

"Nam genus et proavos, et quæ non fecimus ipsi,
Vix ea nostra voco"--

He then desired all the people to stand off, except his two warders, who supported his lordship while he said a prayer; after which, he called his solicitor and agent in Scotland, Mr. W. Fraser, and, presenting his gold-headed cane, said, "I deliver you this cane in token of my sense of your faithful services, and of my committing to you all the power I have upon earth," and then embraced him. He also called for Mr. James Fraser, and said, "My dear James, I am going to heaven; but you must continue to crawl a little longer in this evil world." And, taking leave of both, he delivered his hat, wig, and clothes, to Mr. William Fraser, desiring him to see that the executioner did not touch them. He ordered his cap to be put on, and, unloosing his neckcloth and the collar of his shirt, kneeled down at the block, and pulled the cloth which was to receive his head close to him. But, being placed too near the block, the executioner desired him to remove a little further back, which, with the warders' assistance, was immediately done; and, his neck being properly placed, he told the executioner he would say a short prayer, and then give the signal by dropping his handkerchief. In this posture he remained about half a minute, and then, throwing his handkerchief on the floor, the executioner at one blow cut off his head, which was received in the cloth, and, with his body, was put into the coffin, and carried in a hearse back to the Tower, where it was interred near the bodies of the other lords.

His lordship professed himself a papist, and, at his request, was attended by Mr. Baker, attached to the chapel of the Sardinian ambassador; and though he insisted much on the services he had done the royal family in 1715, yet he declared, but a few days before his death, that he had been concerned in all the schemes formed for restoring the house of Stuart since he was fifteen years old.

This nobleman's intellectual powers seem to have been considerable, and his learning extensive. He spoke Latin, French, and English, fluently, and other modern languages intelligibly. He studied at Aberdeen, and disputed his philosophy in Greek; and, though he was educated a protestant, yet, after three years' study of divinity and controversy, he turned papist. He maintained an appearance of that facetious disposition for which he was remarkable, to the last; and seems to have taken great pains to quit the stage, not only with decency, but with that dignity which is thought to distinguish the good conscience and the noble mind.

The following lines upon the execution of these noblemen are said to have been repeated with great energy by Dr. Johnson, although there appears to be no ground for supposing that they were the Doctor's own composition. They first appeared in the Gentleman's Magazine:

"Pitied by gentle minds, Kilmarnock died;
The brave, Balmerino, were on thy side;
Ratcliffe, unhappy in his crimes of youth,
Steady in what he still mistook for truth,
Beheld his death so decently unmoved,
The soft lamented, and the brave approved.
But Lovat's end indifferently we view,
True to no king, to no religion true:
No fair forgets the ruin he has done;
No child laments the tyrant of his son;
No Tory pities, thinking what he was;
No Whig compassions, for he left the cause;
The brave regret not, for he was not brave,
The honest mourn not, knowing him a knave."

FRANCIS TOWNLEY, JAMES DAWSON, AND OTHERS.

EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.

These prisoners were parties to the same plot, and all of them held ranks in the Pretender's army. Dawson had paid addresses to a young lady, to whom he was to have been married immediately after his enlargement, if the solicitations that were made for his pardon had been attended with the desired effect.

The circumstance of his love, and the melancholy that was produced by his death, are so admirably treated in the following ballad of Shenstone, that Dawson's story will probably be remembered and regretted when that of the rest of the rebels will be forgotten.

JEMMY DAWSON: A BALLAD.

Come listen to my mournful tale,
Ye tender hearts and lovers dear,
Nor will you scorn to heave a sigh,
Nor will you blush to shed a tear.

And thou, dear Kitty, peerless maid,
Do thou a pensive ear incline;
For canst thou weep at every woe,
And pity every 'plaint, but mine?

Young Dawson was a gallant youth,
A lighter never trod the plain;
And well he loved one charming maid,
And dearly was he loved again.

One tender maid, she loved him dear,
Of gentle blood the damsel came;
And faultless was her beauteous form,
And spotless was her virgin fame.

But curse on parties' hateful strife,
That led the faithful youth astray!
The day the rebel clans appear'd--
(Oh! had he never seen that day!)

Their colours and their sash he wore,
And in their fatal dress was found;
And now he must that death endure
Which gives the brave the keenest wound.

How pale was then his true-love's cheek
When Jemmy's sentence reach'd her ear!
For never yet did Alpine snows
So pale nor yet so chill, appear.

"Yet, might sweet mercy find a place,
And bring relief to Jemmy's woes,
O George! without a prayer for thee
My orisons should never close.

"The gracious prince that gives him life
Would crown a never-dying flame;
And every tender babe I bore
Should learn to lisp the giver's name.

"But though, dear youth, thou shouldst be dragg'd
To yonder ignominious tree,
Thou shalt not want a faithful friend
To share thy bitter fate with thee."

O, then her mourning-coach was call'd;
The sledge moved slowly on before;--
Though borne in a triumphal car,
She had not loved her favourite more.

She follow'd him, prepared to view
The terrible behests of law;
And the last scene of Jemmy's woes,
With calm and steadfast eyes she saw.

Distorted was that blooming face
Which she had fondly loved so long,
And stifled was that tuneful breath
Which in her praise had sweetly sung;

And sever'd was that beauteous neck
Round which her arms had fondly closed;
And mangled was that beauteous breast
On which her love-sick head reposed;--

And ravish'd was that constant heart
She did to every heart prefer;
For, though it could his king forget,
'Twas true and loyal still to her.

Amidst those unrelenting flames
She bore this constant heart to see;
But, when 'twas moulder'd into dust,
"Yet, yet," she cried, "I'll follow thee!

"My death, my death, can only show
The pure and lasting love I bore;
Accept, O Heaven! of woes like ours,
And let us--let us weep no more."

The dismal scene was o'er and past,
The lover's mournful hearse retired;
The maid drew back her languid head,
And, sighing forth his name, expired.

Though justice ever must prevail,
The tear my Kitty sheds is due;
For seldom shall we hear a tale
So sad, so tender, and so true.

These offenders were hanged on Kennington Common. They had not hung above five minutes when Townley was cut down, being yet alive: and his body being placed on the block, the executioner chopped off his head with a cleaver. His heart and bowels were then taken out, and thrown into the fire; and the other parties being separately treated in the same manner, the executioner cried out, "God save King George!"

The bodies were quartered, and delivered to the keepers of the New Jail, who buried them: the heads of some of the parties were sent to Carlisle and Manchester, where they were exposed; but those of Townley and another were fixed on Temple Bar, and after remaining some time, fell down.

It would be useless to attempt to enumerate the other persons whose crimes and misfortunes at this time consigned them to the gibbet; but some account of the escape of the Pretender may not be uninteresting. It would appear that the battle of Culloden having decided the fate of his cause, where the Pretender had his horse shot under him by one of the king's troopers as he was endeavouring to rally his soldiers, he retired to the house of a factor of Lord Lovat, at about ten miles from Inverness, where he met with that lord and supped with him. After supper he started on his journey to Fort Augustus, and next day went on to Invergarry. A boy, whom he found there caught him a salmon and he dined, and afterwards waited for some of his troops, who had promised to meet him there. Being disappointed, however, in his object, he proceeded to Lockharciage, and he arrived there on the 18th of April, at about two in the morning, and slept, but at five he set out on foot, and travelled through the Glen of Morar, where he arrived at four the next morning. He reached Arrashag in twelve hours after, and was there joined by Captain O'Neil on the 27th, who informed him that his cause was hopeless, and recommended him, therefore, to sail at once for France. One Donald M'Leod was engaged to hire a ship, and on the 28th the Chevalier went on board an eight-oared boat, in company with Sullivan and O'Neil, ordering the people who belonged to the boat to make the best haste they could to Stornoway, where it was proposed they should take ship. The night proving very tempestuous, they all begged of him to go back, which he would not do; but to keep up the spirits of the people, he sang them a Highland song. The weather growing worse and worse, about seven in the morning of the 29th, they were driven on shore on a point of land called Rushness, in the island of Benbecula, where, when they got on shore, the Pretender helped to make a fire to warm the crew, who were almost starved to death with cold. On the 30th, at six in the evening, they set sail again for Stornoway, but meeting with another storm, were obliged to put into the island of Scalpa, in the Harris, where they all went on shore to a farmer's house, passing for merchants that were shipwrecked in their voyage to the Orkneys: the Pretender and Sullivan going by the name of Sinclair, the latter passing for the father, and the former for his son. They thought proper to send from thence to Stornoway, with instructions to freight a ship for the Orkneys; and on the 3d of May they received a message that a ship was ready. On the 4th they set out for that place, where they arrived on the 5th about noon, but meeting with their messenger, Donald M'Leod, they found that he had got into company, and told a friend of his for whom he had hired the ship; upon which there were two hundred people in arms at Stornoway, upon a report that the Pretender was landed with five hundred men, and was coming to burn the town; so that they were obliged to lie all night upon the moor, with no other refreshment than biscuit and brandy. On the 6th they resolved to go in the eight-oared boat to the Orkneys; but the crew refused to venture, so that they were obliged to steer south along the coast-side, where they met with two English ships; and this compelled them to put into a desert island, where they remained till the 10th, without any provision but some salt fish they found upon the place. About ten in the morning of that day they embarked for the Harris, and at break of day on the 11th they were chased by an English vessel, but made their escape among the rocks. About four in the afternoon they arrived on the island of Benbecula, where they remained till the 14th, and then they set out for the mountain of Currada, in South Uist, where they staid till the militia of the Isle of Skye came to the island of Irasky. They now sailed for the island of Uia, where they remained three nights, till, having intelligence that the militia were coming towards Benbecula, they immediately got into their boat, and sailed for Lochbusdale. Being met, however, by some ships of war, they were obliged to return to Lochagnart, and at night sailed for Lochbusdale; upon arriving at which place they staid eight days on a rock, making a tent of the sail of the boat. They found themselves here in a most dreadful situation; for, having intelligence that Captain Scott had landed at Kilbride, they were obliged to separate, and the Pretender and O'Neil went to the mountains, where they remained all night, and soon after were informed that General Campbell was at Bernary; so that now they had forces very near on both sides of them, and were absolutely at a loss which way to move. In their road they met with a young lady, one Miss M'Donald, to whom Captain O'Neil proposed assisting the Pretender to make his escape, which at first she refused; but, upon his offering to put on women's clothes, she consented, and desired them to go to the mountain of Currada till she sent for them. They accordingly there staid two days; but hearing nothing from the young lady, the Pretender concluded she would not keep her word, and therefore resolved to send Captain O'Neil to General Campbell, to let him know he was willing to surrender to him; but about five o'clock in the evening a message came from the young lady, desiring them to meet her at Rushness. Being afraid to pass by the Ford, because of the militia, they luckily found a boat, which carried them to the other side of Uia, where they remained part of the next day, afraid of being seen by the country people. In the evening they set out for Rushness, and arrived there at twelve at night; but not finding the young lady, and being alarmed by a boat full of militia, they were obliged to retire two miles back, where the Pretender remained on a moor till O'Neil went to the young lady, and prevailed upon her to come to the place appointed at night-fall of the next day. About an hour after, they had an account of General Campbell's arrival at Benbecula, which obliged them to move to another part of the island, where, as the day broke, they discovered four sail close on the shore, making directly up to the place where they were; so that there was nothing left for them but to throw themselves among the heath. When the wherries were gone, they resolved to go to Clanronald's house; but when they were within a mile of it, they heard General Campbell was there, which forced them to, retreat again. The young Pretender having at length, with the assistance of Captain O'Neil, found Miss M'Donald in a cottage near the place appointed, it was there determined that he should put on women's clothes and pass for her waiting-maid. This being done, he took leave of Sullivan and O'Neil with great regret, who departed to shift for themselves, leaving him and his new mistress in the cottage, where they continued some days, during which she cured him of the itch. Upon intelligence that General Campbell was gone further into the country, they removed to her cousin's, and spent the night in preparing for their departure to the Isle of Skye: and they set out the next morning for that place, with only one man-servant, named M'Lean, and two rowers. During their voyage they were pursued by a small vessel; but a thick fog rising, they arrived safe at midnight in that island, and landed at the foot of a rock, where the lady and her maid waited while her man M'Lean went to see if Sir Alexander M'Donald was at home. M'Lean found his way thither, but lost it in returning; and his mistress and her maid, after in vain expecting him the whole night, were obliged in the morning to leave the rock, and go in the boat up the creek to some distance, to avoid the militia which guarded the coast. They went on shore again about ten o'clock, and, attended by the rowers, inquired the way to Sir Alexander's. When they had gone about two miles, they met M'Lean; and he told his lady that Sir Alexander was with the Duke of Cumberland, but his lady was at home, and would do them all the service she could. They then immediately discharged their boat, and went directly to the house, where they remained two days, being always in her ladyship's chamber, except at night, to prevent a discovery. But a party of the M'Leods, having intelligence that some strangers were arrived at Sir Alexander's, and knowing his lady to be well affected to the Pretender, came thither, and demanding to see the new-comers, were introduced to Miss's chamber, where she sat with her new maid. The latter, hearing the militia were at the door, had the presence of mind to get up and open it, which occasioned his being the less noticed; and after they had narrowly searched the chests, they withdrew. The inquiry, however, alarmed the young lady, and the next day she sent her apparent maid to a steward of Sir Alexander's: but hearing that his being in the island was known, he removed to Macdonald's, at Kingsborough, ten miles distant, where he remained but one day; for on receiving intelligence that it was rumoured that he was disguised in a woman's habit, Macdonald furnished him with a suit of his own clothes, and he went in a boat to M'Leod's at Raza. No prospect of escaping to France, however, presented itself there, and he returned to the Isle of Skye, being thirty miles, with no attendant but a ferryman, M'Leod assuring him that the elder Laird of Mackinnon would there render him all the service in his power. On his reaching M'Kinnon's, the old man instantly knew him, and advised him to go to Lochaber; and he accordingly proceeded thither in a vessel procured for that purpose. M'Donald, at the head of one hundred resolute Highlanders, then appeared to assist him, and after roving about with them from place to place, he at length removed to Badenoch. He was there very much harassed by the King's troops, and losing many of his men in the skirmishes which daily took place, they were at length obliged to disperse; and the Pretender, with Lochiel of Barrisdale and some others, skulked about in Moidart. Here they received information that two French privateers were at anchor in Lochnanaugh, in one of which, _L'Heureux_, this unfortunate prince eventually embarked, with twenty-three gentlemen, and one hundred and seven soldiers, and soon after arrived safely in France.

WILLIAM YORK,

AGED TEN YEARS, CONVICTED OF MURDERING SUSAN MAHEW, AGED FIVE YEARS.

This unhappy child was but ten years of age when he committed the dreadful crime of which he was convicted. He was a pauper in the poorhouse belonging to the parish of Eye, in Suffolk, and was committed, on the coroner's inquest, to Ipswich jail, for the murder of Susan Mahew, another child, of five years of age, who had been his bedfellow. The following is his confession, taken by a justice of the peace, and which was, in part, proved on the trial, with many corroborating circumstances of his guilt.

He said that a trifling quarrel happening between them on the 13th of May 1748, about ten in the morning, he struck her with his open hand, and made her cry: that she going out of the house to the dunghill, opposite to the door, he followed her, with a hook in his hand, with an intent to kill her; but before he came up to her, he set down the hook, and went into the house for a knife. He then came out again, took hold of the girl's left hand, and cut her wrist all round to the bone, and then threw her down, and cut her to the bone just above the elbow of the same arm. That, after this, he set his foot upon her stomach, and cut her right arm round about, and to the bone, both on the wrist and above the elbow. That he still thought she would not die, and therefore took the hook and cut her left thigh to the bone. His next care was to conceal the murder for which purpose he filled a pail with water at a ditch, and washing the blood off the child's body, buried it in the dunghill, together with the blood that was spilled upon the child's clothes, and then went and got his breakfast. When he was examined, he showed very little concern, and appeared easy and cheerful. All he alleged was, that the child fouled the bed in which they lay together; that she was sulky, and that he did not like her.

The boy was found guilty, and sentenced to death; but he was respited from time to time on account of his tender years, and at length pardoned.

BENJAMIN TAPNER, JOHN COBBY, JOHN HAMMOND, RICHARD MILLS, RICHARD MILLS THE YOUNGER, AND OTHERS.

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

We do not recollect ever to have heard of a case exhibiting greater brutality on the part of the murderers towards their victim than this. The offenders were all smugglers, and the unfortunate objects of their crime were a custom-house officer, and a shoemaker, named respectively William Galley and Daniel Chater. It would appear that a daring and very extensive robbery having been committed at the custom-house at Poole, Galley and Chater were sent to Stanstead in Sussex, to give some information to Major Battine, a magistrate, in reference to the circumstance. They did not, however, return to their homes, and on inquiry, it turned out that they had been brutally murdered, the body of Galley being traced, by means of bloodhounds, to be buried, while that of Chater was discovered at a distance of six miles, in a well in Harris' Wood, near Leigh, in Lady Holt's Park, covered up with a quantity of stones, wooden railings, and earth.

At a special commission held at Chichester, on the 16th of January 1749, the prisoners Benjamin Tapner, John Cobby, John Hammond, William Carter, Richard Mills the elder, and Richard Mills the younger, were indicted for the murder of Daniel Chater; the three first as principals, and the others as accessories before the fact; and William Jackson and William Carter were indicted for the murder of William Galley.

From the evidence adduced, the circumstances of this most horrid murder were proved, and it appeared that the two deceased persons having passed Havant on their road to Stanstead, went to the New Inn at Leigh, where they met one Austin, and his brother and brother-in-law, of whom they asked the road, and they conducted them to Rowland's Castle, where, they said, they might obtain better information. They went into the White Hart, and Mrs. Payne, the landlady, suspecting the object of their mission, sent for the prisoners Jackson and Carter, and they were soon after joined by some others of the gang. After they had been all sitting together, Carter called Chater out, and demanded to know where Diamond, one of those suspected of the robbery, was? Chater replied that he was in custody, and that he was going against his will to give evidence against him. Galley, following them into the yard, was knocked down by Carter, on his calling Chater away, and they then returned in-doors. The smugglers now pretended to be sorry for what had occurred, and desired Galley to drink some rum, and they persisted in plying him and Chater with liquor until they were both intoxicated. They were then persuaded to lie down and sleep, and a letter to Major Battine, of which they were the bearers, was taken from them, read, and destroyed.

One John Royce, a smuggler, now came in, and Jackson and Carter told him the contents of the letter, and said that they had got the old rogue, the shoemaker of Fording-bridge, who was going to inform against John Diamond, the shepherd, then in custody at Chichester. Here William Steele proposed to take them both to a well about two hundred yards from the house, and to murder and throw them in; but this was rejected, and after several propositions had been made as to the mode in which they should be disposed of, the scene of cruelty was commenced by Jackson, who, putting on his spurs, jumped upon the bed where they lay, and spurred their foreheads, and then whipped them; so that they both got up bleeding. The smugglers then took them out of the house, and Mills swore he would shoot any one who followed or said anything of what had occurred.

Meanwhile, the rest put Galley and Chater on one horse, tied their legs under the horse's belly, and then tied the legs of both together. They now set forward, with the exception of Royce, who had no horse; and they had not gone above two hundred yards, before Jackson called out "Whip 'em, cut 'em, slash 'em, d--n 'em!" upon which, all began to whip except Steele, who led the horse, the roads being very bad. They whipped them for half a mile, till they came to Woodash, where they fell off, with their heads under the horse's belly; and their legs, which were tied, appeared over the horse's back. Their tormentors soon set them upright again, and continued whipping them over the head, face, shoulders, &c., till they came to Dean, upwards of half a mile farther; and here they both fell again as before, with their heads under the horse's belly, which were struck at every step by the horse's hoofs.

Upon placing them again in the saddle, the villains found them so weak that they could not sit; upon which they separated them, and put Galley before Steele, and Chater before little Sam; and then whipped Galley so severely, that, the lashes coming upon Steele, at his desire they desisted. They then went to Harris'-well, and threatened to throw Galley in; but when he desired that they would put an end to his misery at once, "No," said Jackson, "if that's the case, we have something more to say to you;" and they thereupon put him on the horse again, and whipped him over the Downs until he was so weak that he fell off. They next laid him across the horse, and little Sam, getting up behind him, subjected him to such cruelty as made him groan with the most excruciating torments, and he fell off again. Being again put up astride, Richards got up behind him; but the poor man soon cried out, "I fall, I fall," and Richards pushed him with force, saying, "Fall, and be d--d!" The unhappy man then turned over and expired; and they threw the body over the horse, and carried it off with them to the house of one Scardefield, who kept the Red Lion at Rake. The landlord remarking the condition of Chater, and Galley's body, the fellows told him that they had engaged with some officers, had lost their tea, and that some of them were wounded, if not dead. This was sufficient, and Jackson and Carter carried Chater down to the house of the elder Mills, where they chained him up in a turf-house. Their companions, in the mean time, drank gin and brandy at Scardefield's, and it being now nearly dark, they borrowed spades, and a candle and lantern, and making him assist them in digging a hole, they buried the body of the murdered officer. They then separated; but on the Thursday they met again with some more of their associates, including the prisoners Richard Mills, and his two sons Richard and John, Thomas Stringer, Cobby, Tapner, and Hammond, for the purpose of deliberating what should be done with their prisoner. It was soon unanimously resolved that he must be destroyed, and it was determined that they should take him to Harris'-well and throw him in, as it was considered that that death would be most likely to cause him the greatest pain.

During this time the wretched man was in a state of the utmost horror and misery, being visited occasionally by all his tormentors, who abused him, and beat him violently. At last, when this determination had been arrived at, they all went, and Tapner pulling out a clasp-knife, ordered him on his knees, swearing that he would be his butcher; but being dissuaded from this, as being opposed to their plan to prolong the miseries of their prisoner, he contented himself with slashing the knife across his eyes, almost cutting them out, and completely severing the gristle of his nose. They then placed him upon a horse, and all set out together for Harris'-well, except Mills and his sons, they having no horses ready, and saying, in excuse, "that there were enough without them to murder one man." All the way Tapner whipped him till the blood came; and then swore that if he blooded the saddle, he would torture him the more. When they were come within one hundred yards of the well, Jackson and Carter stopped, saying to Tapner, Cobby, Stringer, Steele, and Hammond, "Go on and do your duty on Chater, as we have ours upon Galley." It was in the dead of the night that they brought their victim to the well, which was nearly thirty feet deep, but dry, and paled close round; and Tapner having fastened a noose round his neck, they bade him get over the pales. He was going through a broken place; but though he was covered with blood and fainting with the anguish of his wounds, they forced him to climb up, having the rope about his neck. They then tied one end of the cord to the pales and pushed him over the brink; but the rope being short, he hung no farther within it than his thighs, and leaning against the edge, he hung above a quarter of an hour and was not strangled. They then untied him, and threw him head foremost into the well. They tarried some time, and hearing him groan, they determined to go to one William Comleah's, a gardener, to borrow a rope and ladder, saying they wanted to relieve one of their companions who had fallen into Harris'-well. He said they might take them; but they could not manage the ladder in their confusion, it being a long one. They then returned to the well; and still hearing him groan, and fearful that the sound might lead to a discovery, the place being near the road, they threw upon him some of the rails and gate-posts fixed about the well, as well as some great stones; and then finding him silent, they left him. Their next consultation was how to dispose of their horses; and they killed Galley's, which was grey, and taking his hide off, cut it into small pieces, and hid them so as to prevent any discovery; but a bay horse that Chater had ridden on got from them.

This being the evidence produced, the jury, after being out of court about a quarter of an hour, brought in a verdict of guilty against all the prisoners: whereupon the judge pronounced sentence on the convicts in a most pathetic address, representing the enormity of their crime, and exhorting them to make immediate preparation for the awful fate that awaited them; adding, "Christian charity obliges me to tell you that your time in this world will be very short."

The heinousness of the crime of which these men had been convicted rendering it necessary that their punishment should be exemplary, the judge ordered that they should be executed on the following day; and the sentence was accordingly carried into execution against all but Jackson, who died in prison on the evening that he was condemned. They were attended by two ministers; and all, except Mills and his son (who took no notice of each other, and thought themselves not guilty because they were not present at the finishing of the inhuman murder), showed great marks of penitence. Tapner and Carter gave good advice to the spectators, and desired diligence might be used to apprehend Richards, whom they charged as the cause of their being brought to this wretched end. Young Mills smiled several times at the executioner, who was a discharged marine, and having ropes too short for some of them, was puzzled to fit them. Old Mills being forced to stand tiptoe to reach the halter, desired that he might not be hanged by inches. The two Mills were so rejoiced at being told that they were not to be hanged in chains after execution, that death seemed to excite in them no terror; while Jackson was so struck with horror at being measured for his irons, that he soon expired.

They were hanged at Chichester on the 18th of January 1749, amidst such a concourse of spectators as is seldom seen on the occasion of a public execution.

Carter was hung in chains near Rake, in Sussex; Tapner, on Rook's Hill, near Chichester; and Cobby and Hammond, at Cesley Isle, on the beach where they sometimes landed their smuggled goods, and where they could be seen at a great distance east and west.

SAMUEL COUCHMAN AND JOHN MORGAN, LIEUTENANTS OF MARINES; THOMAS KNIGHT, CARPENTER, AND OTHERS.

SHOT FOR MUTINY.

The _Chesterfield_ man-of-war, under the command of Captain O'Brian Dudley, was stationed off Cape-coast Castle, on the coast of Africa, when a dangerous mutiny broke out among the crew, of whom the above-named officers were the leaders. They were charged on their trial with "exciting and encouraging mutiny, and running away with his Majesty's ship _Chesterfield_, on the 10th day of October 1748, from the coast of Africa, leaving their captain, two lieutenants, with other officers, and some seamen, on shore."

It appeared from the evidence adduced before the court-martial, by which the prisoners were tried, and which was presided over by Sir Edward Hawke, that on the 15th October 1748, Captain Dudley, being on shore at Cape-coast Castle, sent off his barge to Lieutenant Couchman, ordering him to send the cutter with the boatswain of the ship, to see the tents struck, and to bring everything belonging to the ship on board that night. Couchman, however, directly ordered the barge to be hoisted in, and the boatswain to turn all hands on the quarter-deck, and then coming from his cabin with a drawn sword, said, "Here I am! God d--n me, I will stand by you while I have a drop of blood in my body!" He was accompanied by John Morgan, the second lieutenant of marines, Thomas Knight the carpenter, his mate John Place (a principal actor), and about thirty seamen with cutlasses. They then gave three huzzas, and threw their hats overboard; damning old hats, and saying that they would soon get new. Couchman now sent for the boatswain, to know if he would stand by him, and go with him; but he replied "No," and said,

"For God's sake, sir, be ruled by reason, and consider what you are about." Couchman threatened to put him in irons if he did not join with him; but the boatswain told him he never would be in such piratical designs, and he was immediately ordered into custody, and two sentinels put over him. Couchman soon after sent for Gilham, the mate of the ship; but he also refusing to join him, was put into custody with five or six others. They were confined, however, only five or six hours; for, in the middle of the night after their confinement, Couchman sent for them into the great cabin, desired them to sit and drink punch, and then dismissed them. The next day the boatswain was invited to dinner by the new commander, who began to rail against Captain Dudley, and proposed to him to sign a paper. He refused indignantly, and was immediately dismissed. When he quitted the great cabin, he went to the gunner, who informed him that he had twenty pistols still at his disposal, and it was determined that an effort should be made that night to recover the ship from the mutineers. When evening drew on, the boatswain proceeded to sound the ship's company, and he soon found about thirty of the seamen, besides the mates, gunner's mates, and cockswain of the barge, ready to aid him. The boatswain took the command on himself, and the first step which he took was to get up all the irons or bilboes on the forecastle; he then sent for the twenty pistols, which were all loaded; he next ordered three men upon the grand magazine, and two to that abaft; and the remainder, who had no pistols, to stay by the bilboes, and secure as many prisoners as he should send. This disposition being made, he went directly down on the deck, where he divided his small company into two parties; and, one going down the main, and the other the fore hatchway, they soon secured eleven or twelve of the ringleaders, and sent them up to the forecastle without the least noise. The two parties then joined, and went directly to the great cabin, where they secured Couchman and Morgan, with the carpenter, whom they immediately confined in different parts of the vessel. The ship being thus secured, the captain again boarded her and took the command of her; and on her return to England the mutineers were brought to trial.

The court-martial having found them guilty of the crimes imputed to them, they were shot in the month of June 1749.

The boatswain (Roger Winket) was afterwards rewarded with three hundred pounds a year, as master-attendant of Woolwich-dockyard.

JOHN MILLS.

EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

The case of this felon becomes remarkable from the fact of the criminal being the son of Richard Mills the elder, whose ignominious fate we have just recorded. It appears that he was engaged in the robbery of the Custom-house, but escaped; and soon after his father, brother, and their accomplices were hanged, he thought of going to Bristol, with a view of embarking for France; and having hinted his intentions to some others, they resolved to accompany him. Stopping at a house on the road, they met with one Richard Hawkins, whom they asked to go with them; but the poor fellow hesitating, they put him on horseback behind Mills, and carried him to the Dog and Partridge, on Slendon Common, which was kept by John Reynolds. They had not been long in the house when complaint was made that two bags of tea had been stolen, and Hawkins was charged with the robbery. He steadily denied any knowledge of the affair; but they obliged him to pull off his clothes; and, having stripped themselves, they began to whip him with the most unrelenting barbarity; and Curtis, one of the gang, said he did know of the robbery, and if he would not confess, he would whip him till he did; for he had whipped many a rogue, and washed his hands in his blood.

The villains continued whipping the poor wretch till their breath was almost exhausted, when at length the unfortunate man mentioned something of his father and brother; on which Mills and Curtis said they would go and fetch them; but Hawkins expired soon after they had left the house.

On their way back they met Winter, one of their companions, who informed them of this fact, when they dismissed the men whom they had compelled to accompany them, saying that they should be sent for when they were wanted. Their next anxiety was as to the mode in which they should dispose of the body, and it was proposed to throw it into a well in an adjacent park; but this being objected to, they carried it twelve miles, and having tied stones to it in order to sink it, they threw it into a pond in Parham Park, belonging to Sir Cecil Bishop; and in this place it lay more than two months before it was discovered.

Mills was afterwards taken into custody on the information of Pring, an outlawed smuggler, and being tried, was convicted.

The country being at that time filled with smugglers, a rescue was feared; wherefore he was conducted to the place of execution by a guard of soldiers. When there, he prayed with a clergyman, confessed that he had led a bad life, acknowledged the murder of Hawkins, desired that all young people would take warning by his untimely end, and humbly implored the forgiveness of God. He was executed on Slendon Common on the 12th of August 1749, and afterwards hung in chains on the same spot.

AMY HUTCHINSON.

BURNT FOR THE MURDER OF HER HUSBAND.

This malefactor was born of indigent parents, in the Isle of Ely, and having received a poor education, at the age of sixteen she attracted the attention of a young man, whose love she returned with equal affection. Her father, being apprised of the connexion, strictly charged his daughter to decline it: but there was no arguing against love; the intimacy continued till it became criminal. The young fellow having soon grown tired of her, went off to London, and she determined to revenge herself upon him for his infidelity, by marrying another suitor, named John Hutchinson, who had previously been disagreeable to her. The marriage accordingly took place; but her first admirer happening to return from London just as the newly-wedded pair were coming out of church, the bride was greatly affected at the recollection of former scenes, and the irrevocable ceremony which had now passed. Unable to love the man she had married, she doted to distraction on him she had lost, and, only a few days after her marriage, admitted him to his former intimacy with her. Hutchinson becoming jealous of his wife, a quarrel ensued, in consequence of which he beat her with great severity; but this producing no alteration in her conduct, he had recourse to drinking, with a view to avoid the pain of reflection on his situation. In the interim his wife and the young fellow continued their guilty intercourse uninterrupted; but, considering the life of her husband as a bar to their happiness, it was resolved to remove him by poison. For this purpose the wife purchased a quantity of arsenic; and Mr. Hutchinson being afflicted with an ague, and wishing for something warm to drink, she put some arsenic in ale, of which he drank very plentifully; and then she left him, saying she would go and buy something for his dinner. Meeting her lover, she acquainted him with what had passed; on which he advised her to buy more poison, fearing the first might not be sufficient to operate; but its effects were fatal, and Hutchinson died about dinner-time on the same day. The deceased was buried on the following Sunday, and the next day the former lover renewed his visits; which occasioning the neighbours to talk very freely of the affair, the young widow was taken into custody on suspicion of having committed the murder.

The body being exhumed, it was found that death had been caused by poison, and the prisoner was convicted and sentenced to death.

She was strangled and burned at Ely, on the 7th November 1750, confessing the crime of which she had been found guilty.

JOHN CARR.

EXECUTED FOR FORGERY.