hackney-coach to drive him to some outlet, and then robbing the coachman
in the first lonesome place he came to; in which for some time he was
very successful. This trade he commenced early in the month of March,
1803, when, being genteelly dressed, at night about ten o'clock, he
hired a hackney-coach at Charing-cross, and ordered the coachman to
drive to St. John's Farm, near the one mile-stone on the Edgeware-road.
When the coach got to the top of the lane leading to St. John's Farm,
Smith pulled the string, and told the coachman to let him get out, for
he had passed the house he wanted to go to; upon which the coachman got
off his box, and let him out of the coach. Smith then asking what his
fare was, he told him, five shillings and sixpence; when he put his hand
into a side-pocket, pulled out a pistol, and swore that he would
immediately shoot him if he did not deliver his money. The coachman
complied; and upon his demanding his watch, delivered that up also; and
the robber succeeded in making his escape across the fields.
On Monday the 6th of March, at about eleven o'clock at night, Smith
hired another coach, and ordered the driver to proceed to St.
George's-row, on the Uxbridge-road. Upon his arrival at the place of his
destination, he demanded the coachman's money and watch with the most
horrid imprecations; and on some hesitation being shown to comply with
his request, he produced a pistol and a tuck-stick, with the latter of
which he wounded the driver in the side. Two seven-shilling pieces, and
eight and sixpence in silver, were then handed over to him, and he
decamped, threatening the coachman with instant death in case of his
attempting to pursue him.
His career of guilt, however, was destined soon to close; for being met
in King's-road, Chelsea, by a patrole named Jones, on Sunday night, the
20th of March, under suspicious circumstances, he was taken into
custody, and a pistol and sword-stick were found in his possession.
Information of his capture being published, on the morning of his
examination at Bow-street, he was instantly recognised by Jones and
Treadwell, the two coachmen, his robberies upon whom we have described;
and further proof of his identity in the former case was found in a
duplicate which was taken from his pocket, referring to the pawning of
the watch of the prosecutor.
Three other charges of a similar character were subsequently preferred
against him by other coachmen, whom he had induced to convey him to
unfrequented places in the vicinity of London; and a fourth case of
robbery on the highway was proved by John Chilton, a porter at Messrs.
Spode's Staffordshire warehouse, whom he had met at Bayswater, and whom,
after having maltreated and wounded, he had robbed of three shillings
and sixpence.
On his trial the prisoner was recognised as a discharged artillery-man,
and was identified by Treadwell, one of his prosecutors, as having been
his fellow-prisoner in the King's Bench; and he was found guilty, and
sentenced to death.
He was hanged at the Old Bailey in the month of June 1803, apparently
fully sensible of the enormity of the crimes which he had committed.
GEORGE FOSTER.
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF HIS WIFE AND CHILD.
The conviction of this wretched man was founded entirely upon
circumstantial evidence.
He was indicted on the 14th January, 1803, at the Old Bailey, for the
wilful murder of his wife and child.
From the testimony of the witnesses called in support of the case for
the prosecution, it appeared, that the prisoner lived in a place called
North row, Grosvenor-square, and that his wife and child lived with the
mother of the former in Old Boswell-court, but were in the habit of
going to the prisoner's lodgings to sleep, every Saturday night. On the
4th December, in compliance with this custom, his wife quitted her
mother's house with the child, and was never more seen by her until the
Wednesday following, when her body was picked up in the Paddington
Canal, near the Mitre Tavern, at a distance of about two miles from
Paddington. Inquiries were subsequently made, the result of which
proved, that the prisoner had been seen with his wife at the Mitre, as
late as half-past four o'clock on the evening of the 5th December, and
that then they went away together, walking by the side of the canal
towards London. The prisoner was met in town, by an acquaintance, at
about six o'clock; but no suspicion was entertained until the discovery
of the body. The prisoner was then taken into custody, when he declared
that immediately on his leaving the Mitre, he had quitted his wife, and
had gone across the fields as far as Whetstone, on his way to Barnet to
see two of his children, who were in the workhouse there; but that on
his arrival there, it was so dark that he returned to London at about
eight o'clock, but that he never saw his wife again.
The learned judge, in summing up the case to the jury, remarked to them
that the prisoner's story was utterly at variance and inconsistent with
the evidence adduced; and a verdict of Guilty was returned, and the
prisoner was sentenced to death.
He subsequently confessed the justice of his conviction and punishment;
and admitted that he had conducted his wife twice to the same spot with
the same object, before he could summon up courage to destroy her. He
assigned no reason for the diabolical deed, except that he had taken an
unaccountable dislike for her, and did not know how otherwise to rid
himself of her.
He was executed at the Old Bailey, on the 18th January, 1803.
After he had hung the usual time, his body was cut down and conveyed to
a house not far distant, where it was subjected to the Galvanic process,
by Professor Aldini, under the inspection of Mr. Keate, Mr. Carpue, and
other medical gentlemen. M. Aldini, who was the nephew of the discoverer
of this most interesting science, showed the powers of Galvanism to be
far superior to those of any other stimulant. On the first application
of the process to the face, the jaw of the deceased criminal began to
quiver, and the adjoining muscles were horribly contorted, and one eye
actually opened. In the subsequent part of the process, the right hand
was raised and clenched, and the legs and thighs were set in motion. Mr.
Pass, the beadle of the Surgeons' Company, being officially present
during the time of these extraordinary experiments, was so alarmed, that
on his going home he died from fright.
An experiment of another description was made on a convict, named
Patrick Redmond, who was hanged for a street-robbery, on the 24th of
February, 1767, in order to bring him to life. It appears that the
sufferer had hung twenty-eight minutes, when the mob rescued the body,
and carried it to an appointed place, where a surgeon was in attendance
to try the experiment of _bronchotomy_, which is an incision in the
windpipe, and which, in less than six hours, produced the desired
effect. A collection was made for the poor fellow, and interest made to
obtain his pardon, for it will be remembered that the law says the
condemned shall _hang until he is dead_; consequently, men who, like
Redmond, recovered, are liable to be again hanged up until they are
dead.
ROBERT EMMET.
EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.
This enthusiast was the son of Dr. Emmet, a man of good family, and
possessed of considerable wealth; but who, having imbibed opinions
favourable to republicanism, took care to instil them into his children.
His eldest son was implicated in the Irish rebellion of 1798, and
escaped with his life upon the terms offered to Arthur O'Connor, Dr.
M'Nevin, and others, and accepted by them, and, like them, became an
exile in a foreign land.
The hero of the present sketch was intended for the Irish Bar, and
received a most liberal education. In Trinity College he became
conspicuous, not only for his abilities, but for his display of
eloquence in the "Historical Debating Society," a school which matured
the talents of Bushe, Burrows, and several other members of the Irish
Bar. Young Emmet, however, wanted discretion; and having too often
avowed his political principles, a prosecution was threatened, to avoid
which he precipitately fled to France, where his republican opinions
were confirmed.
In 1803 he returned to Dublin, not being then more than twenty-four
years of age, and found himself in possession of three thousand five
hundred pounds, left him by his father, then recently deceased. With
this money, and the talents and connexions which he possessed, he might
easily have established his own independence; but the sober business of
life had no attractions for him; he aspired to greater fame, and
resolved to attempt the separation of his country from England.
Wild and extravagant as the scheme was, he entered seriously upon it,
and easily found abettors among those who had escaped the angry
vengeance of 1798. Having procured several associates, he took a house
in Patrick-street, and converted it into a rebel depôt for powder, guns,
swords, pikes, &c. In the purchase and preparation of these he expended
upwards of one thousand pounds; but before the plan of insurrection was
ripe, the powder in the magazine, through accident, ignited, and the
whole depôt was blown into the air. Such, however, was the fidelity of
Emmet's partisans, that no discovery took place, further than that
caused by the explosion; and the government, who ordered the guns to be
brought to the Castle, remained ignorant of the purpose for which those
destructive implements were provided.
A mind so sanguine as that of Emmet was not to be damped by an
accidental disappointment: he collected his partisans, took another
house in a lane in Thomas-street, and again commenced preparations for a
popular rebellion. The ramifications of treason were easily extended
through Ireland, where the discontent of the Catholics induced them to
join in any extravagant scheme which promised them redress of
grievances. Emmet had correspondents in every county; and the 23rd of
July 1803 was the day appointed for a general rising, the signal of
which was to be an attack upon Dublin.
The plan of surprising the metropolis was admirably adapted for its
sanguinary purpose; but fortunately several disappointments took place,
and Emmet was unable to proceed as he intended. In the confusion of such
a moment the rebels deceived one another, and several hundred men, who
came in from the country, returned home, being told that the _rising_
was postponed, while those who remained were crowded into the depôt, and
impeded the preparations. It was too late, however, to retract, or alter
the intended movement, as Emmet expected the whole country to rise on
that night. He therefore made the desperate attempt, and, with eighty
followers, sallied out, at nine o'clock, into Thomas-street, and made
towards the Castle, which he intended to surprise.
The experience of a few minutes showed him his madness and folly; for he
quickly found himself without authority, in the midst of a ruffianly
mob, who would neither obey nor accompany him; but who soon convinced
him, that, though cowardly, they were brutal and sanguinary. When he had
arrived at the market-house, his followers had diminished to eighteen,
and as he was now convinced of his rashness, he prevented the discharge
of a rocket which was to be the signal for the outposts to commence
hostilities. This act saved the lives of hundreds, for the Wexford men,
to the number of three hundred, had assembled on the Coal-quay, and
other large bodies had met in the barley-fields behind Mountjoy-square;
all of whom, in consequence, escaped uninjured, and were prevented from
inflicting injury on others.
The rebel band in Thomas-street, meanwhile, largely increased in
numbers; but, being without a leader, they remained confused and
inactive. At this moment, however, an act of atrocity was perpetrated,
sufficiently serious to exhibit the nature of the design. The coach of
the lamented Lord Kilwarden, chief-justice of the Court of King's Bench,
containing his lordship, and his nephew and niece, the Rev. Mr. Wolfe,
and Miss Wolfe, drove up, and was instantly surrounded. Much confusion
prevailed, and his lordship received a deadly stab from the hand of an
assassin which eventually deprived him of life: his nephew was dragged
from the vehicle and ill-treated; but Miss Wolfe was borne to an
opposite house in the arms of a lusty rebel, apparently more humane than
his comrades.
The precise particulars of the murder of Lord Kilwarden are not known,
and have always been the subject of controversy. By some it is alleged
that it was the unpremeditated act of a ferocious rabble; by others,
that he was mistaken for another person; but there is another account,
which admits the mistake in the first instance, but subjoins other
particulars, which appear sufficiently probable. It is related, that, in
the year 1795, when his lordship was attorney-general, a number of young
men, between the ages of fifteen and twenty years, were indicted for
high treason, and upon the day appointed for their trial they appeared
at the bar, wearing shirts with tuckers and open collars, in the manner
usual with boys. When the chief-justice of the King's Bench appeared in
court to proceed with their trial, he remarked, "Well, Mr. Attorney, I
suppose you are ready to go on with the trial of these tuckered
traitors?" The attorney-general was quite prepared to proceed at once;
but, disgusted with the remark which had been made, he said, "No, my
lord, I am not ready;" and he added in a lower tone to the prisoners'
counsel, "If I have any power to save the lives of these boys, whose
extreme youth I did not before observe, that man shall never have the
gratification of passing sentence upon one of these _tuckered_
traitors." He performed his promise, and soon afterwards procured
pardons for them all, upon condition of their going abroad. One of them,
however, refused to accept the pardon upon the condition imposed; and
being obstinate, he was tried, convicted, and executed. After his death,
it is said that his relatives, readily listening to every
misrepresentation which flattered their resentment, became persuaded
that the attorney-general had selected him alone to suffer the utmost
severity of the laws. One of these, a person named Shannon, was an
insurgent of the 23rd July; and when Lord Kilwarden, hearing the popular
cry of vengeance, exclaimed from his carriage, "It is I, Kilwarden,
chief-justice of the King's Bench," Shannon immediately cried out, "Then
you are the man I want," and instantly plunged a pike into his
lordship's body.
Whatever may be the truth or falsehood of this story, his lordship's
death, there is no doubt, was the effect of the violence of the mob on
this occasion; and it appears, that the fatal wound had scarcely been
given, when a party of military reaching the spot, the people were put
to flight, and his lordship's body rescued from further violence, and
conveyed to Werburgh-street.
Major Swan soon after arrived, and in his fury at the attack upon so
good a man, exclaimed indignantly, that every rebel taken with arms in
his hands ought to be instantly hanged; when his lordship, who still
lived, turned round, and impressively exhorted him "to let no man suffer
but by the laws of his country." In a few minutes after, this great and
good man expired.
For a few hours the rebels continued to skirmish with the military, and
several men were killed. By morning, however, all appearance of
rebellion had vanished, and large rewards were offered for the
apprehension of the leader, Robert Emmet, who had escaped to the county
of Wicklow, where he arrived in time to prevent a rising of the
assembled rebels.
This unfortunate young man was every way an enthusiast; for his love was
as extravagant as his patriotism. It appears that soon after his return
from France he visited at the house of Curran, the celebrated Irish
barrister, and became attached to that gentleman's youngest daughter.
Their affection was mutual, but unknown to Mr. Curran. Upon the failure
of the insurrection Emmet might easily have effected his departure from
the kingdom, had he attended solely to his safety; but, in the same
spirit of romantic enthusiasm which distinguished his short career, he
could not submit to leave the country to which he could never more
return, without making an effort to have one final interview with the
object of his unfortunate attachment, in order to receive her personal
forgiveness for what he now considered as the deepest injury. With a
view of obtaining this last gratification, he selected a place of
concealment midway between Mr. Curran's country-house and Dublin; but
before the meeting took place he was arrested. On his person were found
some papers, which showed that he corresponded with Mr. Curran's
family, in consequence of which that gentleman's house was searched, and
the letters there found were produced in evidence against him.
His trial came on, at the sessions-house, Green-street, Dublin,
September the 19th, 1803, before Lord Norbury; and the evidence being
conclusive, his conviction followed. When called upon in the usual way,
before passing sentence, he addressed the Court as follows:--
"I am asked if I have anything to say why sentence of death should not
be pronounced upon me. Was I to suffer only death, after being adjudged
guilty, I should bow in silence; but a man in my situation has not only
to combat with the difficulties of fortune, but also the difficulties of
prejudice: the sentence of the law which delivers over his body to the
executioner, consigns his character to obloquy. The man dies, but his
memory lives; and that mine may not forfeit all claim to the respect of
my countrymen, I use this occasion to vindicate myself from some of the
charges advanced against me.
"I am charged with being an emissary of France:--'tis false! I am no
emissary--I did not wish to deliver up my country to a foreign power,
and least of all, to France. No! never did I entertain the idea of
establishing French power in Ireland--God forbid! On the contrary, it is
evident from the introductory paragraph of the Address of the
Provisional Government, that every hazard attending an independent
effort was deemed preferable to the more fatal risk of introducing a
French army into the country. Small would be our claims to patriotism
and to sense, and palpable our affectation of the love of liberty, if we
were to encourage the profanation of our shores by a people who are
slaves themselves, and the unprincipled and abandoned instruments of
imposing slavery on others. If such an inference be drawn from any part
of the proclamation of the Provisional Government, it calumniates their
views, and is not warranted by the fact.--How could they speak of
freedom to their countrymen? How assume such an exalted motive, and
meditate the introduction of a power which has been the enemy of freedom
in every part of the globe? Reviewing the conduct of France to other
countries, could we expect better towards us? No! Let not, then, any man
attaint my memory by believing that I could have hoped for freedom
through the aid of France, and betrayed the sacred cause of liberty, by
committing it to the power of her most determined foe: had I done so, I
had not deserved to live; and dying with such a weight upon my
character, I had merited the honest execration of that country which
gave me birth, and to which I would have given freedom.
"Had I been in Switzerland, I would have fought against the French--in
the dignity of freedom, I would have expired on the threshold of that
country, and they should have entered it only by passing over my
lifeless corpse. Is it, then, to be supposed, that I would be slow to
make the same sacrifice to my native land? Am I, who lived but to be of
service to my country, and who would subject myself to the bondage of
the grave to give her independence--am I to be loaded with the foul and
grievous calumny of being an emissary of France? My Lords, it may be
part of the system of angry justice to bow a man's mind by humiliation
to meet the ignominy of the scaffold; but worse to me than the
scaffold's shame or the scaffold's terrors, would be the imputation of
having been the agent of French despotism and ambition; and while I
have breath I will call upon my countrymen not to believe me guilty of
so foul a crime against their liberties and their happiness.
"Though you, my lord, sit there a judge, and I stand here a culprit, yet
you are but a man, and I am another; I have a right therefore to
vindicate my character and motives from the aspersions of calumny; and
as a man to whom fame is dearer than life, I will make the last use of
that life in rescuing my name and my memory from the afflicting
imputation of having been an emissary of France, or seeking her
interference in the internal regulation of our affairs.
"Did I live to see a French army approach this country, I would meet it
on the shore with a torch in one hand and a sword in the other--I would
receive them with all the destruction of war! I would animate my
countrymen to immolate them in their very boats; and before our native
soil should be polluted by a foreign foe, if they succeeded in landing,
I would burn every blade of grass before them, raze every house, contend
to the last for every inch of ground, and the last spot on which the
hope of freedom should desert me, that spot I would make my grave: what
I cannot do, I leave a legacy to my country, because I feel conscious
that my death were unprofitable, and all hope of liberty extinct, the
moment a French army obtained a footing in this land. God forbid that I
should see my country under the hands of a foreign power. If the French
should come as a foreign enemy, Oh! my countrymen! meet them on the
shore with a torch in one hand, a sword in the other: receive them with
all the destruction of war; immolate them in their boats before our
native soil shall be polluted by a foreign foe! If they proceed in
landing, fight them on the strand, burn every blade of grass before them
as they advance--raze every house; and if you are driven to the centre
of your country, collect your provisions, your property, your wives, and
your daughters; form a circle around them--fight while but two men are
left; and when but one remains, let that man set fire to the pile, and
release himself, and the families of his fallen countrymen, from the
tyranny of France.
"My lamp of life is nearly expired--my race is finished: the grave opens
to receive me, and I sink into its bosom. All I request, then, at
parting from the world, is the charity of its silence. Let no man write
my epitaph; for as no man, who knows my motives, dare vindicate them,
let not prejudice or ignorance asperse them; let them and me repose in
obscurity and peace, and my tomb remain undescribed, till other times
and other men can do justice to my character."
Judgment was then passed on him in the usual form, and he was ordered
for execution. On his return to Newgate he drew up a statement of the
insurrection, and the cause of its failure, which he requested might be
sent to his brother, Thomas Addis, who was then at Paris.
The unfortunate young man, on the night before his execution, wrote to
Mr. Curran and his son Robert, excusing himself for his conduct towards
Miss Curran, and the firmness and regularity of the original
hand-writing contain an affecting proof of the little influence which
the approaching event exerted over his frame. The same enthusiasm which
allured him to his destruction enabled him to support its utmost rigour.
He met his fate with unostentatious fortitude; and although few could
ever think of justifying his projects or regretting their failure, yet
his youth, his talents, and the great respectability of his connexions,
and the evident delusion of which he was the victim, have excited more
general sympathy for his unfortunate end, and more forbearance towards
his memory, than is usually extended to the errors or sufferings of
political offenders.
Moore, the celebrated Irish bard, has lamented his fate in the following
melody:--
Oh! breathe not his name--let it sleep in the shade!
Where cold and unhonor'd his relics are laid!
Sad, silent, and dark, be the tears that we shed,
As the night-dew that falls on the grass o'er his head.
But the night-dew that falls, though in silence it weeps,
Shall brighten with verdure the grave where he sleeps;
And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls,
Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.
Several of Emmet's deluded followers met the fate of their leader, and
by their ignominious deaths, taught their countrymen the folly and
madness of attempting to separate Ireland from this kingdom by violent
means.