time of execution drew near, the people from all parts came with such
force as to bear down all opposition. Those who had been in dry
situations were pushed into the middle of the road, where they stood
almost up to the knees in mud, and many lost their shoes by the
continual pushing and jostling.
While the heads were exhibiting, the populace took off their hats. The
execution was over by ten o'clock, and the populace soon after dispersed
quietly. There was not the least tendency to riot or disturbance. The
precautions, however, taken by Government, were only such as were highly
necessary and proper. A sky-rocket was sent to the keeper of the prison
to be let off, as a signal to the military, in case of any disturbance.
The body of Colonel Despard having lain at Mount-row, opposite the
Asylum, was taken away on the first of March, by his friends, with a
hearse and three mourning-coaches, and interred near the north door of
St. Paul's Cathedral, St. Paul's churchyard. The crowd was great; but
when the grave was covered in, the people immediately and quietly
dispersed. The city marshal was present, lest there should be any
disturbance on the occasion.
JOHN HATFIELD.
EXECUTED FOR FORGERY.
The variety of the adventures of this man render his name worthy to be
recorded in the annals of crime.
It appears that he was the son of poor parents, who lived at Mortram,
near Longdale, in Cheshire, and that he was born there, in the year
1759. Having by some means procured the situation of rider or traveller
to a linen-draper in the north of England, in the course of his travels
he became acquainted with a young woman, who was under the guardianship
of a respectable farmer, but who was in reality the natural daughter of
Lord Robert Manners. The secret of her birth was not generally known,
but it was communicated to our hero, with an intimation that upon her
marriage, provided it should be with the consent of her father, a dowry
of 1000_l._ would be paid. He therefore lost no time in securing the
good will of the young lady, and having then obtained the consent of her
noble father, he was married to her, and received from his lordship the
sum of 1500_l._ The money, however, was soon spent in the gaieties of
London, by the bridegroom, and with his wife he was compelled to retreat
into the country, where he continued until the year 1782. He, then,
again visited the metropolis, having deserted his wife and three
children, and in spite of his fallen fortunes he proceeded to live in a
style of considerable extravagance, boasting of his near connexion with
the Rutland family, and of his estates in the country. In the course of
his residence in London, his unhappy wife died, and our hero was almost
immediately afterwards conveyed to the King's Bench Prison for a debt of
160_l._ By the practice of an imposture he succeeded in obtaining the
payment of his debt by the Duke of Rutland, and his consequent
discharge, and he was then again thrown upon town to live upon his wits.
In the year 1785, the Duke of Rutland was appointed lord-lieutenant of
Ireland; and directly after his arrival in Dublin, Hatfield followed
him, and taking up his abode at a hotel in College-green, acquainted the
landlord with his pretended connexion with the viceroy, and declared
that he was only prevented from proceeding at once to the Castle, by the
circumstance of his carriage, and horses, and servants, not having yet
arrived. A month was passed by the lodger in a pretended continued state
of disappointment at the non-appearance of his equipage, and at the
expiration of that period the landlord took the liberty of presenting
his bill, which amounted to upwards of sixty pounds. Mr. Hatfield was in
nowise confused, but said that although, fortunately, his agent was then
in Ireland holding a public situation, he was, at that time, on a visit
in the country, from which he would not return for three days. The
landlord was satisfied; but on the fourth day he again made his
appearance, and having been now directed to a gentleman at the Castle,
he forthwith proceeded to him with his account. The answer was of a
nature most unsatisfactory to his wishes; for the supposed agent very
frankly told him, that he was the dupe of an impudent impostor; but he
received some consolation from his being informed that others had
suffered as well as he. His guest, however, was one who was no longer
welcome at his table, but being under the necessity of driving him from
his own house, he provided him with other lodgings in the Marshalsea, to
which he was conveyed by virtue of a writ issued at his instance. On his
entering the jail, Hatfield whispered the keeper and his wife, "to be
sure and keep it a profound secret that he was a relation of the
viceroy, as it might not be agreeable to his Excellency, that it should
be known that he was in prison;" and the people, astonished at the
discovery, which they then made for the first time, conducted him to the
best apartment, had a table provided, and continued to furnish him with
all the necessary commodities for his support during the ensuing three
weeks. In the meantime, however, he had again petitioned the Duke for
fresh supplies, and his Grace, being apprehensive that he might continue
his impositions in Dublin, released him on condition of his quitting
Ireland; and in order to be assured that this stipulation was obeyed, he
sent a servant to see him on board the next vessel sailing for Holyhead.
He next visited Scarborough, and there practised similar impositions;
but his frauds being discovered, he was arrested and lodged in jail,
where he now continued for a period of eight years and a half. At the
expiration of that time, a Miss Nation, of Devonshire, paid his debts
and procured his liberation; and furthermore bestowed her hand on him in
marriage. He then had the good fortune to obtain admission into a
respectable firm at Tiverton as partner, and continued to live during
about three years in apparent respectability; but then, having put up as
a candidate for the borough of Queenborough, his real character was
discovered, and he was made a bankrupt. He now retired, leaving his
second wife and two children behind him; and nothing more was heard of
him until the year 1802, when he drove up in a carriage to the Queen's
Head Inn, at Keswick, and assumed the name of Colonel the Hon. Alexander
Augustus Hope, brother of the Earl of Hopetoun, and member for
Linlithgow. Unfortunately some evil genius directed his steps to the
once happy cottage of poor Mary, the only daughter of Mr. and Mrs.
Robinson, an old couple, who kept a small public-house at the side of
the beautiful lake of Buttermere, Cumberland; and who, by their
industry, had amassed a small property; and poor Mary of Buttermere,
whose charms have since become so celebrated from Wordsworth's sweet
poem in which they are described, was doomed to become the victim of his
villanous schemes. During a short stay at Buttermere, he contrived to
wheedle himself into the good graces of poor Mary; but he was not to be
satisfied with the possession of a country girl, when higher game came
in view. On his first arrival at Keswick, he became acquainted with an
Irish gentleman named Murphy, a member of the then existing Irish House
of Commons, who with his family, and accompanied by a young lady,
possessed of a considerable fortune, and no less personal attractions,
was on a tour through the justly admired lakes of England. The affable
condescension with which his advances were received, induced him to
suppose, that his address and manners were not displeasing to the young
lady, or her guardian, and he resolved to improve upon the opportunity
which presented itself. Quitting the society of the gentle Mary,
therefore, he returned to Keswick, and, ere long, he had so far
ingratiated himself with the young lady, as to obtain from her a promise
of her hand in marriage. Being known only by his assumed title, he was
urged to write to Lord Hopetoun, to acquaint him with the intended
union, and he promised instantly to comply with a request which appeared
so reasonable. Writing letters, therefore, which by virtue of his
pretended rank of M.P. he franked, he despatched them, and until answers
were received, he proposed various trips to while away the time. The
preparations for the marriage, however, occupied the time and attention
of the young lady to too great a degree to permit her quitting Keswick,
and Hatfield seized the opportunity to continue his courtship to the
Beauty of Buttermere. In this manner some weeks elapsed, without any
communication being received from the Earl of Hopetoun; and the
frequent, and now prolonged, absences of the supposed colonel excited
some degree of surprise among his Irish friends.
At length, on the 1st October 1802, a letter was received from Hatfield,
dated Buttermere, by Mr. Murphy, in which a request was contained that a
draft inclosed, purporting to be drawn by Col. Hope, on Mr. Crampt, a
banker in Liverpool, might be cashed; and that gentleman, still having
no good reason to doubt the integrity of his correspondent, immediately
transmitted to him 30_l._, the amount of the check. On the 4th of the
same month, however, Wood, the landlord of the Queen's Head, where the
whole party had been stopping, brought over intelligence from the
village of Lorton, in Buttermere, that Colonel Hope had been married on
the previous day to Mary Robinson. On inquiry it turned out that this
was perfectly true, and that the marriage having taken place, the bride
and bridegroom had gone into Scotland to spend the honeymoon; and it
being now obvious, that the latter, whoever he might be, had acted most
dishonourably towards his ward, Mr. Murphy determined to write to Lord
Hopetoun, for the purpose of ascertaining how far he was entitled to the
name and rank which he had assumed. Circumstances soon transpired, which
induced a belief that he had no pretensions to the character which he
had taken, and a warrant was issued for his apprehension. In the
meantime, he had proceeded with his bride, as far as Longtown, on their
wedding trip, but on reaching that spot, he pretended surprise at not
meeting some friends, whom, he said, he had expected, and returned to
Buttermere. He was there charged with having assumed a fictitious name,
but he flatly denied the truth of the allegation; but the warrant being
brought, by which he was alleged to have forged several franks, as M.P.
for Linlithgow, he was committed to the care of a constable. He,
however, found means to make his escape from this custody; and having
with great boldness passed through several towns, where his person was
known, he was at length apprehended within sixteen miles of Swansea, and
committed to Brecon jail. Before the magistrates, he declared that his
name was Tudor Henry, but his person being identified, he was sent to
London to be examined. He was then transmitted to Cumberland, where he
was charged with forging several franks, and also with forging the bill
for which he had obtained cash at Keswick, and he was committed for
trial; the charge for bigamy, which also stood against him, not being
preferred.
He was indicted at the ensuing assizes at Carlisle, and tried before Sir
A. Thompson, when the jury found him guilty, and he was sentenced to
death.
A notion very generally prevailed that he would escape capital
punishment, and the arrival of the mail was daily expected with the
greatest impatience. No pardon arriving, however, September 3, 1803,
(Saturday,) was at last fixed upon for the execution.
The gallows was erected on the preceding night, between twelve and
three, in an island formed by the river Eden, on the north side of the
town, between the two bridges. From the hour when the jury found him
guilty, he behaved with the utmost serenity and cheerfulness. He
received the visits of all who wished to see him, and talked upon the
topics of the day with the greatest interest or indifference. He could
scarcely ever be brought to speak of his own case, and he neither
blamed the verdict, nor made any confession of his guilt. He said that
he had no intention to defraud those whose names he forged; but was
never heard to say that he was to die unjustly. The alarming nature of
the crime of forgery, in a commercial country, had taught him from the
beginning to entertain no hope of mercy.
By ten o'clock in the morning of September 3, his irons were struck off;
and he then appeared as usual, and no alteration or increased agitation,
whatever, was observed in his manner.
Soon after ten o'clock he sent for the "Carlisle Journal," and perused
it for some time, and a little after he had laid aside the paper, two
clergymen attended him, and prayed with him. He afterwards wrote
several letters and shaved himself, and at three o'clock he ate a hearty
dinner with the jailor. Having afterwards drunk two glasses of wine, he
partook of some coffee, and then set out for the scaffold. He was
pinioned in the turnkey's lodge, where he sent for the executioner and
gave him some silver. He afterwards exhibited great composure, and when
he came to the gallows, he asked whether that "was the tree he was to
die on?" On being answered in the affirmative, he exclaimed, "Oh! a
happy sight, I see it with pleasure."
He then ascended the cart, which had been placed under the rope, and
appeared perfectly cool and collected. Having himself assisted in
completing the requisite preparations, he took leave of the sheriffs,
and prepared himself calmly for his fate.
On his being turned off, great apprehensions were entertained that it
would be necessary to tie him up a second time. The noose slipped twice,
and he fell down above eighteen inches, and his feet at last were almost
touching the ground; but his excessive weight, which occasioned this
accident, speedily relieved him from pain. He expired in a moment, and
without any struggle.
He was cut down after he had hung about an hour. On the preceding
Wednesday he had had a carpenter to take his measure for his coffin, and
he ordered it to be a strong oak one, plain and neat, requesting that,
after he was taken down, he might be put into it immediately, with the
apparel he might have on, and carried to the churchyard of
Burgh-on-Sands, there to be interred in the evening.
The conscientious parishioners of Burgh, however, objected to his being
laid there, and the body was consequently conveyed in the hearse to St.
Mary's, Carlisle, where it was interred in a distant corner of the
churchyard, far from the other tombs. No priest attended, and the coffin
was lowered without any religious service. Notwithstanding his various
and complicated enormities, his untimely end excited considerable
commiseration. His manners were extremely polished and insinuating, and
he was possessed of qualities which might have rendered him an ornament
of society.
[Illustration: _Shooting a Ghost._
_p. 399_]
FRANCIS SMITH.
CONDEMNED FOR THE MURDER OF A SUPPOSED GHOST.
The Hammersmith Ghost will be in the remembrance of every one. Its
vagaries and mischievous pranks were in some cases productive of very
serious consequences, and in no instance were more melancholy effects
produced than in that of the unfortunate prisoner, whose case is now
before us, who shot a poor man, who offended only in wearing the garb of
his trade at night, and who was afterwards tried and condemned to death
for the offence.
Among the other evil effects produced by the absurd proceedings of the
ghost, it appears that one poor woman in particular, who was far
advanced in her pregnancy of a second child, was so much shocked on
seeing him, that she took to her bed, and survived only two days. She
had been crossing near the churchyard about ten o'clock at night, when
she beheld something, as she described, rise from the tomb-stones. The
figure was very tall, and very white. She attempted to run, but the
ghost soon overtook her, and, pressing her in his arms, she fainted, and
fell to the ground. In this situation she remained some hours, till
discovered by some neighbours, who kindly led her home, when she took to
her bed, from which she never rose.
The ghost had so much alarmed a waggoner, belonging to Mr. Russel,
driving a team of eight horses, and which had sixteen passengers at the
time, that the driver took to his heels, and left the waggon and horses
so precipitately, that the whole were greatly endangered.
Francis Smith, the subject of this sketch, doubtless incensed at the
unknown person who was in the habit of assuming this supernatural
character, and thus frightening the superstitious inhabitants of the
village, rashly determined on watching for, and shooting the ghost; when
unfortunately he shot a poor man, named Thomas Milwood, a bricklayer,
who was in a white dress, the usual habiliment of his occupation. This
rash act having been judged wilful murder by the coroner's inquest,
Smith was committed to jail, and took his trial at the ensuing sessions
at the Old Bailey, on the 13th January.
The evidence adduced was, that the unfortunate deceased had quitted the
residence of his father and mother only five minutes before he was
killed; and that, as he was passing along Black Lion-lane, the prisoner
saw him and called out, "Damn you, who are you? I'll shoot you, if you
don't speak." No answer was returned, and the prisoner then fired and
the contents of his gun struck the deceased on the jaw, and he fell down
dead. The prisoner immediately went in search of assistance, but it was
found to be too late, and he then surrendered himself into custody. It
afterwards proved that he had agreed with a watchman to go in search of
the ghost; and that his only object was to rid the neighbourhood of the
visitor, who had occasioned so much mischievous alarm.
The defence set up was that no bad design actuated the prisoner in his
attack upon the supposed spirit, and many witnesses were called, who
proved the alarm which had been occasioned by the visits of a
preternatural being.
The Lord Chief Baron, Mr. Justice Rooke, and Mr. Justice Lawrence, who
were on the Bench, severally expressed their opinion, that the case
proved amounted to murder; and that if a man killed another by design,
without authority, but from a supposition that he ought to be killed,
the offence amounted to murder. The Jury attempted to bring in a verdict
of manslaughter only, but the opinion of the learned Judges being
repeated they returned a general verdict of guilty, and recommended the
prisoner to mercy.
The Recorder then passed sentence of death on the prisoner in the usual
form; which was, that he should be executed on the following Monday, and
his body given to the surgeons to be dissected.
The prisoner, who was dressed in a suit of black clothes, was
twenty-nine years of age, a short but well-made man, with dark hair and
eye brows; and the pallid hue of his countenance, during the whole
trial, together with all the signs of contrition which he exhibited,
commanded the sympathy of every spectator.
The case excited great interest, and the Court and its environs were
crowded during the trial, by persons anxious to learn his fate.
The Lord Chief Baron having told the jury, after they had given their
verdict, that he would immediately report the case to his Majesty, was
so speedy in this humane office, that a respite during pleasure was sent
to the Old Bailey before seven o'clock, and on the twenty-fifth, the
prisoner received a pardon on condition of his being imprisoned during
one year.
The ghost appears to have taken alarm at the consequences of his absurd
trifling with the feelings of his fellow subjects, and he was not again
seen.
We cannot dismiss this subject without referring to other cases of
supposed ghosts, which in their time attracted no inconsiderable portion
of public attention, and excited no small degree of alarm. The most
famous of these was known by the name of the "Cock Lane Ghost," and the
circumstances connected with the case are so curious, and afford so fair
a specimen of the easy credulity even of well-informed and otherwise
sensible people, that we feel little hesitation in placing an account of
them before our readers.
The Cock Lane Ghost kept London in a state of commotion for no short
time, and was the universal theme of conversation among the learned and
the illiterate, and in every circle of society, "from the prince to the
peasant." It appears that at the commencement of the year 1760, there
resided in Cock Lane, near West Smithfield, in the house of one Parsons,
the parish clerk of St. Sepulchre's, a stockbroker, named Kent. The wife
of this gentleman had died in child-bed during the previous year; and
his sister-in-law, Miss Fanny, had arrived from Norfolk to keep his
house for him. They soon conceived a mutual affection, and each of them
made a will in the other's favour. They lived some months in the house
of Parsons, who, being a needy man, borrowed money of his lodger. Some
differences arose betwixt them, and Mr. Kent left the house, and
instituted legal proceedings against the parish clerk for the recovery
of his money.
While this matter was yet pending, Miss Fanny was suddenly taken ill of
the small-pox, and, notwithstanding every care and attention, she died
in a few days, and was buried in a vault under Clerkenwell church.
Parsons now began to hint that the poor lady had come unfairly by her
death, and that Mr. Kent was accessory to it, from his too great
eagerness to enter into possession of the property she had bequeathed
him. Nothing further was said for nearly two years; but it would appear
that Parsons was of so revengeful a character, that he had never
forgotten or forgiven his differences with Mr. Kent, and the indignity
of having been sued for the borrowed money. The strong passions of pride
and avarice were silently at work during all that interval, hatching
schemes of revenge, but dismissing them one after the other as
impracticable, until, at last, a notable one suggested itself. About the
beginning of the year 1762, the alarm was spread over all the
neighbourhood of Cock Lane, that the house of Parsons was haunted by the
ghost of poor Fanny, and that the daughter of Parsons, a girl about
twelve years of age, had several times seen and conversed with the
spirit, who had, moreover, informed her, that she had not died of the
small-pox, as was currently reported, but of poison, administered by Mr.
Kent. Parsons, who originated, took good care to countenance these
reports; and, in answer to numerous inquiries, said his house was every
night, and had been for two years--in fact ever since the death of
Fanny, troubled by a loud knocking at the doors and in the walls. Having
thus prepared the ignorant and credulous neighbours to believe or
exaggerate for themselves what he had told them, he sent for a gentleman
of a higher class in life, to come and witness these extraordinary
occurrences. The gentleman came accordingly, and found the daughter of
Parsons, to whom the spirit alone appeared, and whom alone it answered,
in bed, trembling violently, having just seen the ghost, and been again
informed that she had died from poison. A loud knocking was also heard
from every part of the chamber, which so mystified the not very clear
understanding of the visiter, that he departed, afraid to doubt and
ashamed to believe, but with a promise to bring the clergyman of the
parish and several other gentlemen on the following day, to report upon
the mystery.