magistrate, (Provost Elder,) but another Convention was attempted to be
called, who were to frame their own laws, and to be independent of the
Legislature; or, as they said, independent of their plunderers, enemies,
and oppressors, meaning the King, Lords, and Commons: their resolutions
would prove that they meant to create a government of their own, to do
away the authority of what they called hereditary senators, and packed
majorities; all which proved the intention of putting the king's life in
danger.
But what, it might be said, was all this to the prisoner at the bar?
who, surprising as it might appear, about two years before wrote letters
to Mr. Secretary Dundas, offering to give information as to certain
designs of the Friends of the People. Those letters were answered by
that honourable gentleman with that propriety which had ever marked his
public conduct. The prisoner then corresponded with the Lord Advocate,
but since September 1793, this correspondence had ceased. Previous to
that period, the prisoner was not a member of the Society of Friends of
the People, nor of the British Convention; but his accession since to
its measures, and the calling of another Convention, could be
substantiated. A Committee of Correspondence, of which the prisoner was
a member, was instituted by a new Convention, whose object it was to
carry into effect the views of the last British Convention, and to elect
delegates to a new one. Mr. Watt attended this committee, and coincided
in its measures, which were expressly to supersede the Legislature. The
prisoner had moved for a Committee of Union; and another was appointed,
called the Committee of Ways and Means; of both which he was a member.
This last was a Secret Committee, kept no minutes, was permanent, and
empowered to collect money to support "the great cause." Mr. Downie was
appointed treasurer, and it was to be the medium through which all
instructions and directions were to be given to all friends of the
people throughout the kingdom, and was to procure information of the
number of those that would spare no exertions to support the great
cause. They corresponded with Hardy respecting the calling of a new
Convention, which was to follow up the purposes of the old one; and, as
the prisoner was present, he was in this way coupled with the British
Convention.
Their next attempt was to debauch the minds of the soldiers, and to
excite them to mutiny; for which purpose a paper was printed, and
circulated among a regiment of Fencibles then at Dalkeith. This paper,
which was evidently seditious, was brought home to the prisoner, for the
types from which it was printed were found in his house, and a copy
traced from him into the hands of a soldier.
The next charge to be brought against the prisoner, and the committee of
which he was a member, was a distinct and deliberate plan to overturn
the existing government of the country. The plan proposed was this:--A
fire was to be raised near the Excise-office (Edinburgh), which would
require the attendance of the soldiers in the Castle, who were to be met
there by a body of the friends of the people; another party of whom were
to issue from the West Bow, to confine the soldiers between two fires,
and cut off their retreat; the Castle was next to be attempted; the
judges (particularly the Lord Justice Clerk) were to be seized; and all
the public banks were to be secured. A proclamation was then to be
issued, ordering all the farmers to bring in their grain to market as
usual; and enjoining all country gentlemen to keep within their houses,
or three miles from them, under penalty of death. Then an address was to
be sent to his majesty, commanding him to put an end to the war, change
the ministers, or take the consequences. Such was the plan of the
Committee of Ways and Means, as proposed by the prisoner.
Previous to this, it should have been mentioned that all the friends of
the people were to be armed; for which purpose, one Fairley was
despatched round the country to levy contributions, and disperse
seditious pamphlets; for which he received particular instructions from
the prisoner. Reports were spread through the same channel that the
Goldsmiths' Hall Association were arming, and that it was necessary for
the friends of the people to arm also, for they would be butchered
either by them or the French. It was proved that the prisoner gave
orders to Robert Orrock to make four thousand pikes; and also to one
Brown for the same purpose. These were to be used for completing the
great plan; and Fairley's mission was to inform the country of these
intended proceedings. Another representative body was also formed,
called "collectors of sense and money," who were to have the
distribution of the pikes, and to command the different parties.
Mr. Anstruther then recapitulated shortly the different heads, and
concluded an elaborate and most clear and distinct pleading of more than
two hours and a half, by requesting the jury to lay no farther stress on
what he had said than it should be proved, as it was meant merely as a
clue to the evidence which should be brought before them. Witnesses
were then called who spoke to the facts alluded to by the learned
counsel, and who proved to the fullest extent the charge made against
the prisoner.
The evidence for the Crown being closed,
Mr. W. Erskine, junior counsel for the prisoner, proceeded to open the
defence. He said that he would rest his defence upon the correspondence
carried on between the Right Hon. Henry Dundas, the lord-advocate, and
the prisoner, by which it would appear that he had attended the meetings
of the Friends of the People with no other view than a design to give
information of their proceedings. A letter from the prisoner to Mr.
Secretary Dundas was read, which stated in substance that, as he did not
approve of the dangerous principles which then prevailed in Scotland,
and was friend to the constitution of his country, he thought it his
duty to communicate to him, as a good subject, what information he could
procure of the proceedings of those who styled themselves "Friends of
the People." From an acquaintance with several of the leading men among
them, he flattered himself he had this in his power; and he then went on
to mention some of the names of those leading men in Perth, Dundee, and
Edinburgh. In the first of these places, he said, he had been educated,
and had resided in the two last for a considerable number of years. It
concluded with enjoining secrecy.
To this letter an answer was returned which was also read. It
acknowledged the receipt of Mr. Watt's; and after expressing a hope that
things were not so bad as he represented, desired him to go on, and he
might depend upon his communications being kept perfectly secret.
Another letter from Mr. Dundas to Mr. M'Ritchie, the prisoner's agent,
was next read in answer to one from Mr. M'Ritchie, requesting of Mr.
Dundas what letters he had of the prisoner's. The answer was that all
the letters he had received from Mr. Watt had been delivered to the
lord-advocate.
The Lord-Advocate being sworn, in exculpation, he gave a distinct
account of the transactions which he had had with the prisoner. He had
conversed with him several times at his own lodgings; and he had at one
time given him some information which he thought of importance. This was
respecting the disaffection of some dragoons at Perth, which upon
inquiry turned out to be ill-founded. In March 1793, his lordship said
an offer had been made to him to disclose some important secrets,
provided he would give the prisoner 1000_l._ This he absolutely refused.
However, some time after the prisoner having informed him that he was
much pressed for money to retrieve a bill of 30_l._, his lordship, who
was then in London, not wishing he should be distressed for such a small
sum, sent him an order for the payment of it. All this happened previous
to the meeting of the convention, since which time he did not recollect
to have seen or corresponded with the prisoner.
Upon this evidence it was contended by Mr. Hamilton, that the prisoner
was engaged as a spy for government; and it was well known that a spy
was obliged to assume not only the appearance of those whose secrets he
meant to reveal, but even to take part in their proceedings in order to
prevent a discovery. A spy in an army, he said, was obliged not only to
assume the uniform of the enemy, but even to appear in arms; and it
would be exceedingly hard indeed, if taken in a conflict, that he should
be punished for discharging his duty. He concluded with hoping the jury
would bring in a verdict finding the charges not proved.
The Lord-President, after clearly defining the laws of treason, summed
up the evidence, narrating and explaining the various parts with much
candour, and leaving it entirely to the jury to return such a verdict as
their judgment should direct.
The jury withdrew about half-past five o'clock in the morning, and in
about five minutes returned with a verdict--Guilty.
The trial lasted nearly twenty-two hours.
The case of Downie afterwards came on; and the jury after some time
found him guilty, reconciling themselves to this verdict, by unanimously
consenting to recommending him to mercy, which they did in a very strong
manner.
Shortly after, the following awful sentence of the Court was passed upon
these unfortunate men:--
"Robert Watt and David Downie, you have been found guilty of high
treason by your peers. The sentence of the Court is, therefore, that you
be taken from the place whence you came, from thence you shall be drawn
on a sledge to the place of execution, on Wednesday the 15th of October,
there to hang by your necks till you are both dead; your bowels to be
taken out and cast in your faces; and each of your bodies to be cut in
four quarters, to be at the disposal of his Majesty: and the Lord have
mercy on your souls!"
The unfortunate prisoners received the dreadful sentence with much
firmness and composure, and were immediately conducted to the Castle.
The prisoner Downie subsequently received a respite, and his punishment
was changed for that of transportation for life; but Watt was ordered to
be executed on the 15th of October.
On the appointed day, therefore, at half-past one o'clock, the two
junior magistrates, with white rods in their hands, the Rev. Principal
Baird, and a number of constables, attended by the town-officers, and
the city-guard lining the streets, walked in procession from the
Council-chamber to the east end of Castle-hill, when a message was sent
to the sheriffs in the Castle, that they were there waiting to receive
the prisoner.
The prisoner was immediately placed on a hurdle, with his back to the
horse; and the executioner, with a large axe in his hand, took his seat
opposite him at the further end of the hurdle.
The procession then set out from the Castle, the sheriffs walking in
front, a number of county constables surrounding the hurdle, and the
military keeping off the crowd. In this manner they proceeded until they
joined the magistrates, when the military returned to the Castle, and
then the procession was conducted to the place of execution.
When they had reached the Tolbooth door, the prisoner was taken from the
hurdle, and carried into the prison, where a considerable time was spent
in devotional exercise. He then came out upon the platform, attended by
the magistrates, sheriffs, Principal Baird, &c.; and after a short time
further being spent in prayer, he mounted the drop-board, and was
immediately launched into eternity.
When the body was taken down it was stretched upon a table; and the
executioner, with two blows of the axe, severed off the head, which was
received into a basket, and then held up to the multitude, while the
executioner called aloud, "There is the head of a traitor, and so perish
all traitors!"
The body and head were then placed in a coffin and removed.
The execution was conducted throughout with the greatest solemnity, and
the prisoner appeared to be deeply sensible of the awful situation in
which he was placed. He was so emaciated that his appearance was
entirely changed since his trial.
Robert Watt was born in the shire of Kincardine, and was at the time of
his execution about thirty-six years old. He was the natural son of a
Mr. Barclay, a gentleman of fortune and respectability; but like most
other children of illegitimate parentage, he was brought up and educated
under the name of his mother. He was, at about ten years of age, sent to
Perth, where he received a very good education; and at the age of
sixteen he engaged himself with a lawyer in that place; but being of a
religious disposition, he was disgusted at his profession, and soon
withdrew from the desk of his master. Soon after, he went to Edinburgh,
and engaged as a clerk in a paper warehouse, where he lived happily and
respectably for some years; but having a desire to share in the profits
as well as the toils of the business, he wrote to his father, and
prevailed upon him to assist him with some money, to enable him to
procure a partnership with his master.
He then made proposals to the above purpose, which were, however,
rejected by his employer; but being provided with money, he entered into
the wine and spirit trade. His success in business continued very
promising, until he was almost ruined by the commencement of the war. At
this period his acquaintance with the Friends of the People commenced.
Its unfortunate termination is already made known to our readers.
ARCHIBALD HAMILTON ROWAN, ESQ.
CONVICTED OF PUBLISHING A SEDITIOUS LIBEL.
Although we do not consider the numerous instances of conviction for the
publication of seditious libels, which took place in Dublin about this
time, as being strictly within the plan of our work, yet the
extraordinary and romantic circumstances attending the escape of Mr.
Rowan induce us to give his case insertion. The agitation produced both
in England and Ireland, immediately after the French revolution, in
which many persons sought to excite the people to follow the example of
their Gallic neighbours, produced a number of prosecutions, the recital
of which alone would be sufficient to fill our volume.
Among other convictions which took place was that of Mr. Archibald
Hamilton Rowan, who was found guilty in the Court of King's Bench,
Dublin, on the 29th of January 1794, of publishing in the year 1792 a
false, scandalous, and malicious libel against the Government,
purporting to be an address from a society called the United Irishmen of
Dublin to the Volunteers of Ireland, and signed by Mr. Rowan as their
secretary,--an offence for which he was sentenced to be imprisoned for
two years, to pay a fine of 500_l._, and to find security in the amount
of 4000_l._ for his good behaviour for seven years.
It appears that after about two or three months of the term of
imprisonment had expired, William Jackson, a divine of some notoriety in
England, and several others were arrested on a charge of high treason,
in which it appeared probable that Rowan would be implicated. He
therefore determined on effecting his escape; and the manner in which
he accomplished it has been thus narrated:--
Having discovered, on the 28th of April 1794, the extent of the danger
in which he was involved, he arranged a plan of flight, to be put into
execution on the night of the 1st of May. He had the address to prevail
on the jailer of Newgate, who knew nothing farther of his prisoner than
that he was under sentence of confinement for a political libel, to
accompany him at night to his own house. They were received by Mrs.
Rowan, who had a supper prepared in the front room of the second floor.
The supper over, the prisoner requested the jailer's permission to say a
word or two in private to his wife in the adjoining room. The latter
consented, on condition of the door between the two rooms remaining
open; and he had so little suspicion of what was meditated, that,
instead of examining the state of the other room, he contented himself
with shifting his chair at the supper-table, so as to give him a view of
the open door-way. In a few seconds his prisoner was beyond his reach,
having descended by a single rope, which had been slung from the window
of the back chamber, into the street. In his stable he found a horse
ready saddled, and a peasant's outside coat to disguise him; and with
these he posted to the house of Mr. Matthew Dowling, his attorney, who
was aware of his design, and was under an engagement to aid him, both by
his advice and personal assistance. On his arrival at the attorney's
house, he found it full of company; but the host coming to him pointed
out the imprudence of his giving him shelter, and directed him to wait
for him at the Rotunda, a building in Sackville-street, where he would
join him, as soon as he could dispose of his guests. For an hour and a
half, tormented by hopes and fears, did the fugitive await the coming of
his friend; but Irish gentlemen in those days, as well as in modern
times, were not the men to quit their bottle; and it was not until the
expiration of that time that Mr. Dowling made his appearance. He at
length arrived, however; and after a short and anxious conference, it
was determined that it was best for Mr. Rowan to proceed at once to the
house of a friend, a Mr. Sweetman, about four miles off, at the north of
the Bay of Dublin, whence it was anticipated he might in a day or two
make his escape by boat. He accordingly proceeded thither with all
possible speed, but three days elapsed before the design could be
carried out. Mr. Sweetman's pleasure-boat was then manned by some
fellows who lived on the spot, and who undertook to convey their
passenger to the coast of France. They put to sea at night; but a gale
of wind coming on, they were compelled to put back, and take shelter
under the Hill of Howth. They lay there at anchor until the following
morning; and they were then about again to proceed on their voyage, when
a small revenue cruiser sailing by threw into the boat copies of a
proclamation, which had issued, offering a reward of 2000_l._ for the
apprehension of the fugitive. The bills were read, but no remark made;
and in the bustle attending the getting the little vessel under way, no
further notice was taken of them. When they had reached mid-channel,
however, a second inspection of them took place, and the unfortunate
exile beheld the brows of his crew contracted, as they looked from the
printed papers to him, apparently engaged in comparing the description
which was given of the fugitive with his person. He knew the generous
character of the Irish peasantry. He was himself an Irishman; he knew
the loyalty and devotion of their hearts to persons in distress; and he
could calculate upon receiving from them, as strangers, that aid which
they would not have more readily given to their own brothers. His course
was immediately determined upon; he admitted that their conjectures were
right--that he was the runaway, Hamilton Rowan; but he added, "You are
Irishmen." The answer which he received was characteristic of their
country. They gave a cheer, threw the proclamation overboard, and set
about hastening their passage to the place of their destination.
On the third morning, a little after daybreak, they arrived in sight of
St. Paul de Leon, a fortified town on the coast of Bretagne; and as the
sun rose, a thick mist, which had hovered over them, was dissipated, and
they discovered, about two miles astern, the British Channel-fleet
moving along under easy sail; through which their little vessel had
passed unperceived. The party soon effected a landing, and, being seen,
were seized and conducted to prison as suspected spies; but, in a few
days, their real character being explained, an order from the French
Government procured for their liberation; and the honest crew returned
to Dublin with their boat, while Mr. Rowan proceeded at once to Paris.
In a political convulsion, which subsequently occurred in that city, it
was his fate once more to effect his escape in a wherry down the Seine,
in which he was unaccompanied by any person; and although the banks of
that river were lined with military, he answered their challenges with
so much address, that he was permitted to pass unmolested. Having
reached a French port, he embarked for the United States of America, and
there, unaffected by the political changes of his own country, he
continued to live for several years.
At length, the merits of his personal character prevailed against the
remembrance of his political aberrations; and an act of royal clemency,
generously conceded without any humiliating conditions, restored him
once more to his country; where he continued to reside, in the bosom of
domestic quiet, and in the habitual exercise of every virtue. He had the
satisfaction, too, in his old age, of finding that, in a public point of
view, his debt of gratitude to the Crown had not been wholly unpaid. In
his eldest son, Captain Hamilton, of the Cambrian frigate, he gave to
the British navy one of its most gallant and distinguished commanders.
WILLIAM BUTTERWORTH AND FRANCIS JENNISON.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
The case of these wretched culprits is so disgusting in its details,
that we feel justified in giving it only in as short a form as possible.
At the Hants assizes, in the beginning of August 1794, William
Butterworth and Francis Jennison, two convicts at Cumberland Fort, were
tried before Mr. Justice Grose and Mr. Baron Thompson, for the murder of
Mr. John Groundwater, one of the persons deputed to look after them. The
circumstances of this murder were of the most brutal and atrocious
nature. These hardened wretches, on being reprimanded by Mr.
Groundwater, who threatened to report them for ill-behaviour, swore that
they would rip his bowels out; and were heard by another of the
convicts debating about the manner of perpetrating the murder. In
accordance with a resolution which they arrived at, about six in the
evening of the same day, they fell upon him with two iron shovels, with
which they had been at work in spreading gravel, and with which they
gave him three such wounds on the skull, that his brains fell out in the
quantity of a double handful. They then struck down one of the shovels
upon his neck, with intent to sever the head from the body, but,
striking against the bone, it had not the intended effect. The rest of
the convicts ran to the spot, and one of them caught hold of
Butterworth, to prevent his mangling the body any more; but, after a
struggle, he disengaged himself, ran back to the unfortunate sufferer,
and, catching up the spade again, gave him several cuts, saying, "There,
damn him, I have done him out and out." On being remonstrated with for
his inhuman conduct, he replied that he was transported for life, and he
would rather be hanged than suffer that sentence. It is a most
extraordinary circumstance, established on the evidence of Mr. Hill,
surgeon, who attended him, that Mr. Groundwater lived eighteen hours
after he had received these grievous wounds, notwithstanding the brains
had fallen out, and a prodigious effusion of blood had taken place. He
never spoke after the second blow was given him, but the action of the
pulse was strong, and respiration continued during the whole of the
eighteen hours above mentioned.
Butterworth, though thus steeled in cruelty, was only nineteen years
old; his wretched companion was twenty-five. The publicity of the deed,
and the consequent clear evidence of their guilt, would not admit of
their setting up any defence. The jury pronounced them guilty; and they
were sentenced to be executed in three days after in Lanston Harbour,
and their bodies were ordered to be hung in chains in Cumberland Fort.
They were taken from jail at about four o'clock on Monday morning, and
reached Portsea about eleven. The number of spectators who crowded to
see the execution was immense. Both the prisoners acknowledged that they
alone were the persons who committed the murder, exculpating all the
other convicts from a participation in this horrid offence. Their
behaviour was very penitent, and they seemed to feel sensibly the
enormity of their crime. The execution took place about twelve o'clock,
and their bodies were afterwards hung in chains, pursuant to sentence,
near the spot where the murder was committed.