had been an alderman of Dublin. He was educated at Trinity College,
Dublin; and on his coming of age he entered into a landed estate of six
hundred pounds a year, in the county of Tyrone, which was left him by
Dr. M'Naughton, his uncle. The first vice he fell into was that of
gaming, by which he very soon did great injury to his fortune; and
though he continued (as most novices do who play with sharpers) in a
constant run of ill luck, and was soon obliged to mortgage his property,
yet his losses made no visible alteration in his temper. Although he was
of a most passionate disposition, his pride kept him within due bounds
there. All was placid with the polite M'Naughton; and he lost his money
to the very last with that graceful composure that became the man who
had a plentiful fortune to support it. But strong as his passion this
way might be, it was not powerful enough to secure him against the
attacks of love, and becoming attached to a young lady he very speedily
married her. The reader may well suppose that the expenses of a wife and
family in Dublin must soon increase his difficulties, and introduce a
new scene of troubles; and it did so in a manner and with an effect
which was most unhappy for Mr. M'Naughton. It appears that a writ
having been issued against him at the suit of one of his creditors, the
sheriff's officer obtained access to his house by a stratagem, on which
he flew into a rage, and calling out for pistols, he frighted his poor
listening wife to such a degree that premature labour followed, and she
died in childbed.
The feelings of the unfortunate husband upon the occurrence of this
melancholy event were most distressing, and he made repeated attempts
upon his life; but a change of scene being recommended, he was conveyed
to the country, where every attention was paid to his health, while his
fortune also was nursed with equal care. On his return to the gaiety of
the Irish metropolis, he soon resumed that worst of passions--gaming,
and again became the dupe of others, while his property was once more
seriously diminished. At this time he made secret advances to Miss Knox,
the beautiful and accomplished daughter of Richard Knox, Esq. of Prohen
in the county of Derry, who was possessed of a handsome fortune, and
whose promise of marriage he obtained, in the event of her father's
consent being given. On that consent being requested, however, it was at
once refused, on account of the youth of the young lady, whose age did
not exceed sixteen years; and Mr. Knox was so resolute in his refusal,
that he forbade the suitor for his daughter's hand ever to enter the
house again. Mr. M'Naughton begged that this latter injunction might be
withdrawn, urging that it would appear strange to the world that his
friendship with a family, with which he had been so intimate, should be
so suddenly broken off; and upon his promising upon his honour, that the
subject of the marriage should not be again mentioned, and declaring
that he had not previously spoken of it to the young lady herself, his
visits were allowed to be repeated. In the mean time he continued his
addresses to the young lady, and informed her that he had obtained the
consent of her father, but that the marriage must be postponed for a
year or two, when some material business would be settled, which was
required to be decided first; and under this assurance she no longer
withheld the confession that the passion of her admirer was returned,
and appeared to delight most in the company of the man whom she looked
upon as her future husband.
All her hopes were, however, soon doomed to be blasted. One day being in
company with M'Naughton and a little boy in a retired room in the house,
he pressed her to marry him, protesting he never could be happy till he
was sure of her; and with an air of sprightly raillery, pulling out a
prayer-book, he began to read the marriage service, and insisted on the
young lady making the responses, which she did; but to every one she
always added, "provided her father consented."
Some short time after this, Miss Knox going to a friend's house on a
week's visit, Mr. M'Naughton, being also an intimate there, soon
followed her; and here he fixed his scene for action. After a day or two
he claimed her, and, calling her his wife, insisted on consummation; but
the young lady absolutely refused to comply, and leaving the house, went
directly and informed her uncle of the whole affair. On this Mr. Knox
wrote a letter to M'Naughton, telling him what a base dishonourable
villain he was, and bade him avoid his sight for ever; but upon the
receipt of this letter M'Naughton advertised his marriage in the public
newspapers, cautioning every other man not to marry his lawful wife.
This vile attack was answered by a very spirited and proper
advertisement from the father, with an affidavit of the whole affair
from the daughter annexed; and Mr. Knox having commenced a suit in the
Prerogative Court, the marriage was declared invalid. Mr. M'Naughton
having absconded to avoid his debts, could not now appeal to the Court
of Delegates, and the original decree was confirmed. Judge Scott in
consequence issued his warrant for the apprehension of the defendant,
who was liable to pay costs; and M'Naughton, hearing of this, wrote a
most impudent threatening letter to the judge, and, it is said, lay in
wait to have him murdered, but missed him by the judge's taking another
road. Upon this the judge applied to the lord chief justice, who issued
another writ against him, which drove him to England.
In the summer of 1761, Mr. M'Naughton returned to Ireland, and by
constantly hovering round Mr. Knox's house, obliged the family to be
upon their guard, and the young lady to live like a recluse.
About the middle of the summer, however, she ventured to a place called
Swaddling Bar to drink the mineral waters there for her health; but even
thither this unhappy man followed her, and he was seen in a beggar's
habit dogging her footsteps. Thus disguised he was detected; and when
warned never to appear there again, he swore, in the presence of
several, that he would murder the whole family if he did not get
possession of his wife--a threat which he subsequently attempted to
carry out. Notwithstanding his violence, it appears that he was
permitted again to escape to London; and he remained there until the
month of October in the same year. At the beginning of November he was
again seen in Ireland; and having approached the residence of the
Knoxes, he was known to sleep with three of his accomplices, at the
house of a hearth-money collector, very nearly adjoining the abode of
his intended victim. The 10th was the day fixed upon by him for the
attack; and on that morning M'Naughton, with his companions, went to a
cabin on the road-side with a sack full of fire arms, in order to await
the passing of Mr. Knox's coach, in which it was known the family were
about to proceed to Dublin. One of the men was despatched to ascertain
the moment of the coming of the vehicle; and when it appeared in sight,
having obtained the information requisite for its identification, he
hurried back to desire the projector of the scheme to prepare. It
appears that the only persons in the carriage were Mr. Knox and his
wife, their daughter and a maid-servant; and they were attended only by
one livery-servant, and a faithful fellow, a smith, who was
foster-father to Miss Knox, and whom no bribe could ever purchase,
although most of the other servants had been tampered with. As soon as
the coach came near the cabin, two of the villains, armed with guns,
presented themselves to the postilion and coachman, and stopped the
horses, while M'Naughton fired at the smith with a blunderbuss. The
latter escaped being wounded, and presented his piece in return, but it
unfortunately missed fire, and M'Naughton and one of his companions
seizing the opportunity, again fired, and both of them wounded him. Mr.
Knox at this time drew up the blinds of the carriage, and M'Naughton
observing this, ran round to the other side, and firing in at the window
obliquely, with a gun loaded with five balls, shot Miss Knox, all the
balls taking effect in her body. The maid-servant now let down the
window, screaming that her mistress was murdered; and the livery-servant
on hearing this came from behind a peat-stack, where he had concealed
himself for safety, and firing at M'Naughton, wounded him in the back;
and about the same time Mr. Knox from the coach discharged a pistol,
which was the last of eight shots fired on this strange and dreadful
occasion.
The murderer and his accomplices now immediately fled; and Miss Knox
being carried into the cabin, died in about three hours. An attack so
bold and so diabolical in its nature excited the greatest degree of
interest; and large rewards were instantly offered for the apprehension
of the perpetrator of the murder. For a considerable time all search
proved fruitless; but at length a corporal of Sir James Caldwell's
company of Light Horse secured him under the following circumstances:--It
appears that the corporal had received instructions to search the house
and offices of one Wenslow, a farmer, and had examined every place
without success, when he bethought himself of a stratagem, by which to
obtain the requisite information of the murderer's hiding-place.
Observing a fellow digging potatoes in a piece of ground behind the
stables, he remarked in his hearing that it was a great pity that
M'Naughton could not be found, for that the person who discovered his
retreat would be sure of a reward of 300_l._ The bait took, and the
peasant pointed to a barn, and thither the corporal and his assistants
immediately proceeded. The door was fast, but they at length forced it
open, and then they found the object of their search standing with a gun
at his shoulder, apparently determined to resist all efforts made to
secure him. On the appearance of the corporal he fired at him, but
without wounding him; and a shot from the corporal's gun striking him on
the wrist, he was compelled to surrender.
He was immediately secured and carried to Lifford jail, where he
remained in the closest confinement until the 8th December, 1761, when
he was put upon his trial, with an accomplice named Dunlap before Mr.
Baron Mountney and Mr. Justice Scott, on a special commission.
M'Naughton, still suffering from the effects of the wounds which he had
received, was brought into court on a bier, rolled in a blanket, and
wearing the shirt in which he was taken, still smeared with blood. His
beard had grown to an enormous length, and his head was wrapped in a
greasy woollen night-cap. In that condition he made a long speech,
pointedly and sensibly; and complained in the most pathetic manner of
the hard usage he had met with since his confinement. He said "they had
treated him like a man under sentence, and not like a man that was to be
tried." He declared, with tears in his eyes, that he never intended to
kill his dear wife, but that he only designed to take her away.
The case lasted five days, a considerable portion of the first day being
occupied in pleadings to postpone the trial, and the reply of the
counsel for the crown. During these debates M'Naughton often spoke with
most amazing spirit and judgment; but the result was, that he was
ordered to prepare his affidavit, which the Court would take into
consideration. Accordingly, on the 9th, he was brought into Court again,
and his affidavit read, in which he swore that some material witnesses
for him were not to be had, particularly one Owens, who, he said, was
present all the time; but the Court were of opinion that no sufficient
reason for the application was shown, and the trial in consequence
proceeded. During the whole proceedings M'Naughton took his notes as
regularly as any of the lawyers, and cross-examined all the witnesses
with the greatest accuracy, and he was observed to behave with uncommon
resolution.
His chief defence was founded on a letter he produced, as written to him
by Miss Knox, in which she desired him to intercept her on the road to
Dublin, and take her away; but this letter was proved a forgery of his
own, which after condemnation he confessed. He took great pains to
exculpate himself from the least design to murder any one, much less his
dear wife (as he always called her); he declared solemnly that his
intent was only to take her out of the coach, and carry her off; but as
he received the first wound, from the first shot that was fired, the
anguish of that wound, and the prospect of his ill success in his
design, so distracted him that, being wholly involved in confusion and
despair, he fired he knew not at what or whom, and had the misfortune to
kill the only person in the world that was dear to him; that he gave the
Court that trouble, and laboured thus, not to save his life,--for death
was now his choice,--but to clear his character from such horrid guilt
as that which was ascribed to him. The jury, however, found both
prisoners guilty; and M'Naughton received the intimation without any
concern, declaring that "they had acquitted themselves with justice to
the country." Mr. Baron Mountney then pronounced upon both prisoners the
awful sentence which the law directed; and although the Court were
visibly affected by the manner in which this painful duty was performed,
M'Naughton remained unconcerned. He prayed the Court to have mercy upon
Dunlap, alleging that he was his tenant, and had been compelled by him
to participate with him in the transaction, under pain of losing a
lease, which he hoped to be renewed; but he declared that life was not
worth asking for himself, for that his wife being dead, the better half
of himself was gone, and he had nothing to remain for in this world.
Tuesday the 15th December, 1761, was fixed upon for the execution of
these criminals; but it appears that some difficulty was experienced in
carrying the sentence into effect. For a long time no carpenter could be
found to make the gallows, and the sheriff looked out for a tree proper
for the purpose, and the execution must have been performed on it, had
not the uncle of the young lady, and some other gentlemen, made the
gallows, and put it up. The sheriff was afterwards obliged to take a
party of soldiers, and force a smith to take off the prisoners' bolts,
otherwise he must have been obliged, contrary to law, to execute them
with their bolts on. The time for the execution having arrived,
M'Naughton, attended by his fellow prisoner, walked to the place of
execution, but, being weak of his wounds, was supported between two men.
The former was dressed in a white flannel waistcoat trimmed with black
buttons and holes, a diaper night-cap tied with a black riband, white
stockings, mourning-buckles, and a crape tied on his arm. He desired the
executioner to be speedy; and the fellow pointing to the ladder, he
mounted with great spirit. The moment he was tied up he jumped from it
with such vehemence as snapped the rope, and he fell to the ground, but
without dislocating his neck, or doing himself much injury. When they
had raised him on his legs again, he soon recovered his senses; and the
executioner borrowing the rope from Dunlap, and fixing it round
M'Naughton's neck, he went up the ladder a second time, and tying the
rope himself to the gallows, he jumped from it again with the same
force, and appeared dead in a minute.
The spectators, who saw him drop when the rope broke, looked upon it as
some contrivance for his escape, which they favoured all they could by
running away from the place, and leaving it open.
Dunlap was afterwards turned off in the usual manner, in sight of the
dangling body of his accomplice and master.
JOHN SMITH AND ROBERT MAYNE.
EXECUTED FOR A MUTINY ON BOARD THE KING GEORGE.
On the trial of these men, with five more of the crew, it appeared that
disputes arose on board the King George, a fine privateer, of thirty-two
guns and two hundred men, commanded by Captain Reed, and cruising
against the enemies of the country, concerning some prize wine, which
was stowed in the hold, some of the crew insisting on its being hoisted
up to be used for the whole ship's company. This would have been
attended, in their situation, with both difficulty and danger, and was
consequently opposed by Captain Reed and his officers; and being
disappointed, a factious discontented set endeavoured to corrupt the
remainder, and soon gained over so formidable a party, that they
determined to seize the ship, and turn pirates in the Indian seas. In
order to effect this, off Cape Ortugal, the mutineers demanded the keys
of the arm-chests, and on the refusal of their request, they drove the
captain and officers into the cabin.
They then placed a guard at the door, and brought a nine-pounder
carriage-gun, loaded with round and grape shot, to fire among the
officers; but were prevailed upon to desist by the entreaties of Mr.
Gardener, the sailing master.
They then offered the latter the command of the ship, acquainting him
with their intention of steering for the East Indies; but on his refusal
they put him under a guard, and took the ship into their own care, until
they had, for want of skill, nearly lost her. They then released Mr.
Gardener, and gave him the helm; when he steered into Camarinas, in
Spain, where most of the mutineers took to the boats, and made their
escape.
Such as were apprehended were brought to trial; and though two more,
viz. Thomas Baldwin and Laurence Tierman, were found guilty, yet Smith
and Mayne, who were the ringleaders of the mutiny, only were hanged.
They suffered at Execution Dock, May the 10th, 1762.
They were both Irishmen, and Roman Catholics, and were attended by a
priest of that religion.
A few years after this affair a mutiny broke out among the crew of the
Namur, of ninety guns. Fifteen were tried, found guilty, and ordered to
be hanged; and they were taken for execution on board the Royal Ann,
with halters round their necks. While waiting for the fatal gun being
fired, however, they were told that his majesty had pardoned fourteen of
them, but one of them must die; and they were ordered to cast lots.
How exquisite must have been the feelings of these miserable men at the
awful moment of deciding on the fate of one! The fatal lot fell upon the
second man that drew, Matthew M'Can, who was soon run up to the
yard-arm, where the body hung nearly an hour.
The pardoned seamen were turned over to the Grafton and the Sunderland,
under sailing orders for the East Indies.
HANNAH DAGOE.
EXECUTED FOR ROBBERY.
There is so much eccentricity in the mode in which this unhappy wretch
terminated her existence, that, although the circumstances of the
robbery for which she was convicted are not of an interesting nature, we
cannot forbear mentioning her case.
We have adduced many instances of hardness of heart, and contempt of the
commandments of God, in men who have undergone the last sentence of the
law; but we are of opinion that in this woman will be found a more
relentless heart, in her last moments, than any criminal whom we have
yet recorded.
Hannah Dagoe was born in Ireland, and was one of that numerous class of
women who ply at Covent Garden market as basket-women. In the pursuit of
her vocation, she became acquainted with a poor and industrious woman of
the name of Eleanor Hussey, who lived by herself in a small apartment,
in which was some creditable household furniture, the remains of the
worldly goods of her deceased husband. Seizing an opportunity, when the
owner was from home, this daring woman broke into Hussey's room, and
stripped it of every article which it contained.
For this burglary and robbery she was brought to trial at the Old
Bailey, found guilty, and sentenced to death.
She was a strong masculine woman, the terror of her fellow prisoners,
and actually stabbed one of the men who had given evidence against her;
but the wound happened not to prove dangerous.
On the road to Tyburn she showed little concern at her miserable state,
and paid no attention to the exhortations of the Romish priest who
attended her. When the cart, in which she was bound, was drawn under the
gallows, she got her hands and arms loose, seized the executioner,
struggled with him, and gave him so violent a blow on the breast as
nearly knocked him down. She dared him to hang her; and in order to
revenge herself upon him, and cheat him of his dues, she took off her
hat, cloak, and other parts of her dress, and disposed of them among the
crowd. After much resistance he got the rope about her neck, which she
had no sooner found accomplished, than, pulling out a handkerchief, she
bound it round her head, over her face, and threw herself out of the
cart, before the signal given, with such violence, that she broke her
neck and died instantly.
This extraordinary and unprecedented scene occurred on the 4th May,
1763.
BARNEY CARROL AND WILLIAM KING.
EXECUTED FOR CUTTING AND MAIMING.
These men had served their country as soldiers, and it is remarkable
that having in that capacity conducted themselves with great bravery,
and earned for themselves well-merited rewards, they should afterwards
have resorted to such atrocious means of procuring a livelihood, as from
this case it will appear they adopted. Having returned to England from
the Havannah, where their regiment had been stationed, they obtained
their discharge, and determined to commence robbers on a plan of the
most infamous cruelty. This consisted in their procuring two young
thieves, named Byfield and Mathews, to go before them and to pick
pockets; and in case of their being detected and seized, their villanous
employers would run up, and by maiming the person holding the boys,
generally by cutting him across the eyes, would procure their release.
The offence for which they were executed, was committed on the 17th
June, 1765; and it appears that a gentleman named Kirby was selected by
the gang as a fit object for attack. Mr. Kirby, however, detected
Byfield in picking his pocket, and before he could withdraw his hand, he
seized him and threatened to carry him before the magistrates. His
intention was not to pursue this threat, but in order to terrify the
boy, he dragged him a considerable distance through the Strand, where
the circumstance had occurred. Carrol soon came up to him, and demanded
the boy's release; but Byfield guessing that he would be permitted to
escape, told him to keep off, for that the gentleman would let him go.
The answer given by the ruffian was "Damn him, but I will cut him," and
instantly drawing his knife, he gave Mr. Kirby a severe cut over the
face. A Mr. Carr at the moment came up to the assistance of Mr. Kirby,
and seized Carrol's arm, and at this instant Kirby, letting go the boy,
struck at Carrol; but the blow happening to fall on Mr. Carr's hand, the
villain made his escape. The rogues then ran off towards St. Clement's
church, and escaped through an alley into Wych Street, though closely
pursued by the gentleman.
Mr. Kirby now felt great pain, but had no idea that he had been wounded
by any sharp instrument; but, putting his hand to his face, he found
that it streamed with blood. Going to the Crown and Anchor Tavern in the
Strand, Mr. Ingram, a surgeon of eminence, almost immediately attended
him; and although the utmost expedition was used in calling in the
assistance of that gentleman, Mr. Kirby had lost near two quarts of
blood in the short interval.
On examination, it appeared that the wound was given in a transverse
direction, from the right eye to the left temple; that two large vessels
were divided by it; that there was a cut across the nose, which left the
bone visible; and that the eye-balls must have been divided by the
slightest deviation from the stroke.
The abominable assassins were very soon apprehended, and found guilty
under the Coventry Act, and hanged at Tyburn, July 31, 1765, amid the
execrations of an enraged multitude.
The "Coventry Act" is a statute of the 22d and 23d Charles II.; its
provision in respect of this crime is to the following effect:--"If any
person, on purpose, and by malice aforethought, and by laying in wait,
shall unlawfully cut or disable the tongue, put out an eye, slit the
nose, cut off a nose or lip, or cut off or disable any limb or member of
any subject, with intention, in so doing, to maim or disfigure him, the
person so offending, his counsellors, aiders, abettors (knowing of, and
privy to, the offence), shall be guilty of felony, without benefit of
clergy." It is called the Coventry Act because it was passed on Sir John
Coventry being assaulted, and having his nose slit in the street; and
the following anecdote is related of the circumstances under which this
outrage was committed.