AND

_CONDUCT OF THE PRISONERS_.

The public anxiety had been, as we have already stated, more than

usually excited during the trials of the conspirators, and much

curiosity was, of course, felt as what would be the final result, and

on what particular day the unhappy, deluded wretches, would suffer the

last dreadful sentence of the law. The public suspense was, however,

terminated on Saturday, the day after the passing sentence of death,

when his Majesty held a Privy Council, at which Newman Knowles, Esq.,

the Common-Serjeant of London, (in the absence of the Recorder through

indisposition,) was admitted into the presence of the King, to make a

Report of the persons convicted of the crime of High Treason before

the Special Commissioners, in which the Learned Serjeant was assisted

by the Judges present, who tried the prisoners. The Council, at which

his Majesty was present, assembled at two o’clock, and continued in

deliberation till near four; and, after the Report had been received,

the Council proceeded to deliberate upon the fate of the prisoners, and

upon the period when it might be proper the execution should take place.

It was at length determined, with a view to render the example more

imposing, and to mark the sense which was entertained of the atrocious

offence of which the wretched culprits were found guilty, to order them

for execution on the following Monday; and that THISTLEWOOD, BRUNT,

INGS, DAVIDSON, and TIDD, should be the sufferers. But that part of

the sentence which directed that their bodies should be quartered was

remitted.

The sentence of death on HARRISON, WILSON, COOPER, STRANGE, and

BRADBURN, was commuted to transportation for life, in conformity with

the implied pledge which they received when they agreed to plead

_Guilty_ to the indictments; and GILCHRIST was respited, without

mention of the commutation of punishment.

Mr. Brown, the Governor of Newgate, received the warrant at seven

o’clock in the evening, and, accompanied by the Under-Sheriff,

immediately went to the condemned room, in which were sitting those who

were ordered for execution, attended by eight officers.

When he entered, they rose in the most respectful manner. He held in

his hand the Recorder’s warrant, of the contents of which they appeared

conscious. A dead silence prevailed; but there was not the slightest

agitation observable in the countenances or manner of any one of the

prisoners.

Mr. Brown addressed them in the following words:--“It is my painful

duty to communicate to you, that I hold the Recorder’s warrant for the

execution of you, Thistlewood, Ings, Brunt, Davidson, and Tidd, on

Monday morning. I hope and trust that the short time you have to remain

in this world will be employed by you in making preparation for that to

which you are going.”

Thistlewood immediately, and in the calmest manner, said--“The sooner

we go, Sir, the better. Our wish is to die as soon as possible.” The

others expressed the same sentiments.

Mr. Brown.--“If any of you wish to have the assistance of a clergyman

of any persuasion, during your preparation, let me know it, and I

shall apply to the authority by which I am convinced you will not be

refused.”

Not a word was uttered by any one of the prisoners.

Mr. Brown then said, “Let me entreat you with effect to give up your

thoughts to the contemplation of the change which you are about to

undergo. Your time in this life is very short; devote it to repentance,

and prayer to that Being who will not desert you at the moment of fatal

separation.”

The prisoners did not speak, nor make any sign.

Mr. Brown then left the room, and the miserable men turned to the

conversation in which they had been engaged before he entered, without

any reference to the tidings they had just heard.

Upon going to the condemned room where the six conspirators who pleaded

guilty were confined, Mr. Brown observed a very striking contrast

to the scene which he had just quitted, as far as regarded Strange,

Bradburn, Cooper, and Gilchrist.

He entered with the Recorder’s warrant in his hand, which contained

cheering intelligence to them. Strange, Bradburn, Cooper, and

Gilchrist, seemed struck with consternation; but Harrison and Wilson

shewed no symptoms of agitation, but appeared rather to despise than to

pity the deplorable condition of their companions, and uttered not a

word expressive of hope or fear.

Mr. Brown then informed them, that mercy had been extended to them, and

that their lives were spared.

Strange, Cooper, Bradburn, and Gilchrist, immediately fell on

their knees, and, after a pause, gave utterance to incoherent and

unintelligible expressions of gratitude. Harrison and Wilson still

remaining silent, and apparently unmoved.

Mr. Brown said, “I have now to show you the dark side of the picture.

Your unfortunate miserable companions in crime who were tried, are

ordered for execution on Monday morning; and you, Harrison, Wilson,

Cooper, Strange, and Bradburn, are transported for life.”

Wilson, who before had appeared perfectly callous, now exclaimed, “Ah!

our poor friends; I am indeed sorry for them.” Harrison said nothing;

the others were too much occupied with the joy of their own escape to

bestow a thought upon those who were to forfeit their lives.

Mr. Brown said, “There is one of the most remarkable circumstances

attending your cases that ever took place upon any occasion; and, if

you have any feeling, it must make a deep and indelible impression upon

you. Those very persons against whose lives your hands were about to be

raised, are the men by whose intercession your lives have been saved.”

After Mr. Brown had performed so much of his painful task, he proceeded

to another step, which excited in the breast of some of the prisoners

a strong feeling of irritation, namely, to place them in separate

condemned cells.

They had entertained a hope that they would be permitted to spend the

last few hours of their life together, mutually to cheer each other

by their example, and to obtain those consolations which the society

of friends in so melancholy a situation must necessarily produce. Mr.

Brown, however, had received his instructions, and was bound to attend

to them, although he might himself have been anxious to grant them

every indulgence consistent with their safety.

The five unhappy men, whose hours were now numbered, were each removed

to the place appointed, and were still accompanied by two of the under

turnkeys.

The reason assigned for this arrangement, was the existence of a spirit

of hardihood among the unfortunate men, which, while they remained

together, seemed but to increase.

In the early part of Saturday, they had been visited by the Reverend

Mr. Cotton (the Ordinary of Newgate), and exhorted by him to have

recourse to those prayers which had been so strongly and humanely

recommended by the Lord Chief Justice. They were, however, deaf to his

entreaties, and conjointly told him, that however much they respected

his motives, still that their minds were made up on religious subjects;

they were Deists, and therefore not inclined to join in that form of

appeal to Heaven, which, in the exercise of his sacred functions, he

thought it necessary to suggest. Mr. Cotton finding that his arguments

were productive of no good effect, left them with regret.

He repeated his visits during the afternoon, but with as little

success, and then determined not to renew his solicitations for some

hours, which would allow time for quiet reflection, concluding that

while their minds were in a state of irritation, he was still less

likely to open their hearts to that contrite feeling, from which he

could alone hope to bring them to a true sense of their situation.

On Sunday morning he re-commenced his pious labours, and on entering

their cells, repeated his former arguments; but they again repeated

their disbelief in the divinity of Christ, and refused through his

mediation to seek pardon of their offended Maker.

Davidson alone listened with attention, and he at length begged Mr.

Cotton to procure him a Wesleyan minister. His wish was communicated

to Mr. Brown, who, in the course of the morning attended at Whitehall,

and reported the circumstance. The Wesleyan minister selected by

Davidson, was a person of the name of Rennett, who, it seems, had been

a journeyman tailor, and had sometimes preached among the Wesleyans;

Davidson’s selection of him on this occasion, was founded on some

slight knowledge of him. As this man, however, was in a situation in

life not well adapted to reveal the holy tenets of salvation to a dying

man, it was thought prudent to decline introducing him to the prisoner.

In the course of Sunday, a most decided change took place in Davidson’s

manner and conduct, and having been induced to abandon his wish

of receiving spiritual comfort from the Wesleyan minister, it was

suggested, that if he desired it, he should have a regular clergyman

of any persuasion he might think fit. On hearing this proposition

again repeated to him, the rays of Christianity, burst, as it were,

through his dungeon’s gloom, and he immediately requested the spiritual

consolation of the Reverend Mr. Cotton. That gentleman visited him

immediately, and continued to attend him, and to administer all the

consolation in his power to the wretched man, up to the last moment of

his life. The unhappy Davidson also begged to be favoured with pen,

ink, and paper, as he was anxious to write to Lord Harrowby, towards

whom he continued to express the warmest respect. This request was

granted, and he wrote a letter of some length, (see p. 410) which he

sealed, and which was afterwards given to Mr. Under-Sheriff Turner, to

be delivered.

On Sunday afternoon, the heart-rending scene of introducing the

families of the wretched men to take a last farewell, was gone through.

Thistlewood’s interview with his wife and son was truly affecting; and

the scenes exhibited in the other cells were of the most agonizing

description. The unfortunate children, capable of understanding the

situation of their unhappy parents, were convulsed with sorrow. The

strongest feelings of commiseration were excited in the minds of those

whose painful duty it was to be present.

Brunt formed a solitary exception to this remark. His composure on

taking leave of his wife was of the most extraordinary description: he

expressed himself in the most unmoved manner, and declared that the day

of his execution would be to him the happiest of his life.

The solemn service of the condemned sermon, usually preached in the

chapel at Newgate, to repentant criminals, who are about to expiate

their crimes with their blood, was on this occasion, reluctantly

dispensed with. The miserable malefactors had so decidedly pronounced

themselves Deists, and (with the exception of Davidson, and even he,

until Sunday, had fully concurred with them) had evinced in all parts

of their conduct so awful a disregard of the precepts of Christianity

and disbelief in its divine origin, as to excite an apprehension

that their blasphemous principles would manifest themselves in some

dreadful act of infidelity during divine service; it was therefore

thought more prudent to omit the ceremony altogether, than to subject

the administration of our holy religion to public insult by avowed and

hardened infidels; and this determination was perfectly agreeable to

the miserable beings themselves, who had boasted of being impenetrable

to repentance, and determined to end the brief remnant of their days

in the same horrid anti-christian principles which they had throughout

professed.

In the course of Sunday, Alderman Wood called twice upon Mr. Brown, and

requested to be introduced to the prisoners. Mr. Brown said he would

willingly have complied with the worthy Alderman’s request, but his

instructions were, not to permit any person to have intercourse with

the unhappy men, save their families, unless under the sanction of an

order from the Privy Council.

Mr. Alderman Wood then begged that he would carry to the prisoners

three written questions, and obtain the answers; but this also Mr.

Brown refused, upon the principle of the strict performance of his duty.

During nearly the whole of Sunday night, the deluded malefactors,

who were attended by the city constables, slept soundly, and were

only awakened by the unbarring of their cell doors, to admit the

Reverend Ordinary. He found them in their separate cells, and went

to each, urging every pious argument to reclaim them to the paths of

Christianity.

On Thistlewood, Tidd, Ings, and Brunt, however, his arguments were

unavailing; but on Davidson his endeavours were crowned with success,

and in the most fervent manner this unfortunate man joined in prayer

with Mr. Cotton for mercy at the hands of his Redeemer.

The cells in which these delinquents were confined, though separated

by strong walls of stone, were not sufficiently detached to prevent

them from speaking to each other, and Ings, speaking, during the night,

of the approaching awful exhibition they were to make, remarked to

one of his companions, with savage disappointment, “that there would

be plenty of persons present; but d--n the ----, they had no pluck.”

Indeed, it seemed impossible to divert the mind of this wretched man

from the original object by which he had been actuated; he often

made declarations of the most terrific nature, and, amongst others,

“he wished that his body might be conveyed to the King, and that his

Majesty, or his cooks, might make turtle-soup of it!”

At five o’clock on Monday morning, Mr. Cotton went again to the gaol,

and proceeded to the condemned cells with the hallowed elements of the

sacrament, which was administered to and received by Davidson with the

utmost devotion.

The Reverend Gentleman offered the same means of redemption to the

other culprits, who, however, were immutable in their infidelity.

Brunt partook of the wine offered to him, but only for the purpose of

drinking the King’s health, which he appeared to do cordially. Davidson

also drank the King’s health, and joined fervently in the prayer for

him and the Royal Family, which is in the established Church Service.

At six o’clock breakfast was ordered for the wretched men, and all but

Davidson expressed a desire that they might be allowed to breakfast

together. It was known, however, that they wished to arrange and mature

what each should say upon the scaffold, and therefore Mr. Brown most

prudently refrained from complying with this request.

While these occurrences were taking place within the gaol, the

exhibition without was not destitute of interest; and the arrangements

making among the persons whose official duties connected them with the

final execution of the law, were of the highest importance.

The Sunday papers had announced the period fixed for the execution,

and as this was accompanied by a speculation that a scaffold was to be

erected on the top of the prison, upon which the ignominious sentence

was to be performed, thousands of persons flocked towards the Old

Bailey, and continued to do so during the day, assembling in groups for

information, and not unfrequently indulging in language disgraceful to

themselves, and alarming to those who felt anxious for the peace of the

metropolis. Among these persons were many who had long been known as

the constant attendants at those factious meetings, the repetitions of

which have been productive of so much mischief.

On Saturday evening, Mr. Sheriff Rothwell and Mr. Under-Sheriff

Turner, had waited on Lord Sidmouth to arrange the mode in which the

execution should take place. The plan at first proposed of erecting a

scaffold on the top of the prison at the end near Newgate-street, was

then considered and abandoned, Lord Sidmouth being of opinion that

there was no necessity for departing from the form customary on like

occasions; and, on the suggestion of Sheriff Rothwell, it was further

resolved to dispense with that part of the sentence which directed that

the culprits should be drawn on a hurdle to the place of execution, in

consideration of the great inconvenience that might arise in conveying

them along the streets in the manner which had been adopted on former

occasions, namely, from the court-yard in front of the Sessions-house

to the scaffold.

On the return of Mr. Sheriff Rothwell and Mr. Under-Sheriff Turner,

from the office of the Secretary of State, with their final

instructions, they directed Mr. Montague, one of the surveyors of

public buildings in the city, to make the necessary arrangements

for resisting the pressure of the crowd which was anticipated, and

for enlarging the ordinary scaffold to such a size as would admit

of the performance of the more awful part of the ceremony--that of

decapitating the criminals.

To effect these works, a great number of men were suddenly called into

requisition, and during the whole of Sunday they were actively engaged.

The addition to the scaffold was made in the Court-yard in front of the

Sessions-house, and the loud strokes of the carpenters’ hammers soon

attracted the attention of the passengers, hundreds of whom mounted

upon the wall to view what was going forward. The confusion created at

this spot induced Mr. Montague to send to the Lord Mayor for the aid

of some constables, and in a short time the City Marshal, arrived at

the head of several officers. The crowd was immediately removed from

the wall, and order was restored.

Curiosity was next directed to the workmen at the ends of the various

avenues leading to the Old Bailey, across which strong posts and rails

were erected in such a manner as to prevent the distant crowd from

throwing the whole of their weight on those in front, and thereby

preventing that confusion and danger which otherwise would have been

incurred, and which was productive of such melancholy consequences at

the execution of Holloway and Haggerty, for the murder of Mr. Steel[2].

There were double rows of rails across the top of the Old Bailey,

across Newgate-street, Giltspur-street, Skinner-street, Fleet-lane, and

in fact at the mouth of every approach to the prison.

In the course of Sunday morning Mr. Sheriff Rothwell and Mr.

Under-Sheriff Turner held a consultation with the Lord Mayor, as to

the necessity of applying to the Secretary of State for the Home

Department, to direct the attendance of a military force, not alone in

the prison, but in its immediate vicinity.

The result of their deliberations was, that such an application was

highly proper; and accordingly Mr. Turner was despatched to Whitehall,

with a letter to Lord Sidmouth, intimating the wish of the Lord Mayor.

In consequence of this application, in the course of the afternoon

one hundred men were ordered to proceed to the gaol of Newgate, and a

detachment of fifty was quartered in Giltspur-street Compter.

Other detachments were on duty at a short distance from the prison. In

fact, every possible precaution was adopted to prevent disturbance or

disorder.

As the evening advanced, the throng in front of the prison increased,

and at eight o’clock the pressure was so great, that it required the

utmost exertions of the constables on duty to prevent the interruption

of the workmen. Thousands of all ranks and ages congregated in front of

the gaol.

The scaffold had been brought forth from the Court-yard, and the

carpenters were busily employed in erecting the additional platform,

which was ten feet square, and constructed with great solidity. They

continued their operations by torch-light, which seemed as it were but

to make “darkness visible,” and considerably enhanced the solemnity of

the scene.

Such was the anxiety of some to witness the execution, that they

literally determined to remain in the neighbourhood all night, and

thousands sacrificed their natural rest to the gratification of their

curiosity.

The windows of the houses in the Old Bailey and the streets adjacent,

commanding a view of the scaffold were let out at exorbitant prices.

The sums demanded for a view from the windows were from ten shillings

to two guineas, but even at these prices there was a superabundance of

applicants.

Very early on Monday morning, the bar, which had previously been

bounded but by one rank of spectators, was enclosed by a second, and

the assembling populace soon began to assume the appearance of a crowd.

They stood in immense masses by the time the clock struck five.

An idea partially prevailed, that the area immediately without the rail

which encompassed the scaffold, where on ordinary occasions spectators

are allowed to stand, would be cleared out when the constables arrived,

and this induced many to take their stations beyond the first barrier.

This apprehension turned out to be well-founded; and, at a quarter

past five, those who had been for hours clinging to the inner rail

were obliged reluctantly to abandon the situations in which they had

proposed to witness the execution. No exceptions were made; and none

but officers, and those engaged to assist in the preparations, were

suffered to remain. Compelled to retire from the immediate vicinity of

the scaffold, they attempted to take up a position beyond the first

rail, but they were again disappointed, and the officers still pressed

on them till they had retreated beyond the second bar, which was placed

at the very extremity of the Old Bailey, on a line with Newgate-street.

The lamp-iron which is fixed in the wall of the prison between the

corner of the street and the Debtor’s door had been climbed by three

persons, and that at the corner was taken possession of in the same

way. Both were now relieved from the load which they had sustained

for hours. The pump, and the lamps above it, were crowded to an

extraordinary degree. The situation appeared one of danger, but those

who had taken the trouble to ascend it were suffered to remain.

When the crowd had passed the second bar (that which crossed the

road from the end of Newgate-street), it was immediately lined with

constables. In the opposite direction, a similar course was taken, and

a bar erected a little below the Felons’ door precluded on that side

any closer approach.

An extensive area was thus taken from the ground which the populace

on ordinary occasions are suffered to occupy. The precautions adopted

on this occasion greatly surpassed those resorted to on that of

Bellingham’s execution; but placards like those then addressed to the

populace, warning them of the danger of pressing forward too eagerly,

from the more efficient measures taken to guard against the pressure

of the crowd, were thought unnecessary.

Between five and six o’clock a great quantity of sawdust was brought

out and deposited beneath the scaffold on which the decollations were

to be performed. It was shortly afterwards transferred to the top of

it, and at the same time black cloth was brought, and the scaffold

erected in the rear of the drop was completely covered with it. The

posts which sustained the chains above it received the same sable

attire; and while these preparations were in progress, every avenue

leading into the Old Bailey was carefully secured by strong wooden

rails fixed across, and guarded by constables.

At twenty minutes before six, a party of the Foot Guards (sixty-one

in number) came out of the prison by the felons’-door; they passed

down Brown’s-yard, opposite Newgate, where they were ordered to remain

till their services should be required. At the same time, a detachment

moved down Newgate-street towards the City, to secure the peace of the

metropolis, should it be in any manner threatened.

Before six o’clock, the City-Marshals arrived; and Mr. Sheriff Rothwell

made his appearance at the same moment. He was not accompanied by his

colleague, the Junior Sheriff. He carefully inspected the preparations

for the awful business of the morning. The crowd, before repressed

beyond the felons’-door, were about this time compelled to move still

lower down towards Ludgate-hill.

Mr. Alderman Wood also arrived on the spot very early in the morning;

and, on first going into Mr. Brown’s office, expressed considerable

indignation at his not being suffered to commune with the convicts when

he called at Newgate on Sunday; stating that the gaol was no longer

under the direction of the city, but under that of Lord Sidmouth,

orders having been issued from the Secretary of State’s office, to

suffer no one to see these convicts, unless by a properly authenticated

order.

At six o’clock the constables assembled in immense numbers, and the

firemen from the different insurance-offices were among them.

Shortly after six, the City-Marshal called over the names of the

officers in attendance from the different City wards. This done, they

were formed into several parties, and its proper station was assigned

to each.

At this time the Lord-Mayor attended, and, accompanied by the

City-Marshal superintended the whole of the arrangements.

During the time occupied by the preparations above described,

the conduct of the countless thousands assembled on this awfully

interesting occasion was peaceable in the extreme. Curiosity seemed

powerfully excited; but no political feeling was manifested by any part

of the crowd, and they awaited the termination of the dreadful scene in

silence. Sometimes a low murmur ran through the expecting multitude,

as some new object connected with the proceedings was pressed on their

attention; but it was a murmur of surprise or of interest, which never

took the tone of clamorous disapprobation.

For a rescue--if it was ever contemplated--all hopes of accomplishing

it must have been annihilated by the precautions we have enumerated.

The powerful force assembled on the spot must have convinced the most

frantic Radicals that all resistance was vain, and escape on failure

impossible.

It was generally reported that the execution would take place an hour

before the usual time of execution. At a quarter before seven, the

persons accommodated at the top of the prison were observed to retire

from the front of the building. This, in consequence of the rumour

just alluded to, caused it to be generally surmised that the prisoners

were about to be led out immediately. The rumour, however, proved to be

unfounded.

At seven o’clock, the crowd which was collected about the prison, in

every avenue leading to it, or commanding the most distant glimpse

of its walls, was beyond all calculation; but still there was not

the least appearance of disorder. In fact, such were the formidable

preparations to preserve the peace, that no possible alarm could exist.

In the event of a riot, however, the Lord Mayor was prepared with large

boards on poles, ready to be used, should it become necessary to read

the Riot Act. They were brought within the rail which enclosed the

gallows; and bills were immediately nailed to them, containing, in

large characters, the following words:

THE RIOT-ACT HAS BEEN READ.

DISPERSE IMMEDIATELY.

These were then laid down on each side of the debtors-door. Of course

they were not exhibited to the populace, being only prepared to be used

in case of necessity, that, if unhappily it should become the duty of

the civil authorities to have recourse to so strong a measure, it might

be impossible for the multitude to be ignorant of the peril to which

they would be exposed by neglecting to yield prompt obedience to the

mandate.

A party of the Life Guards was stationed towards the lower end of

the Old-Bailey, and a small detachment appeared at the end next St.

Sepulchre’s Church. On a sudden a loud noise attracted the attention

of every one; this was caused by the awkward situation in which a

person had placed himself, who, having got within the second bar, had

clambered up against one of the houses, where the constables, who felt

it their duty to remove him, could not get at him. He was at length

pulled down by the heels, amidst the boisterous laughter of the crowd,

who in this manifested all the thoughtless levity of a common mob--a

levity not unlike that described by the unfortunate Hackman to have

preceded the execution of Dr. Dodd[3].

Several persons of distinction--among others some military officers of

rank--arrived in the course of the morning, and Mr. Brown, the gaoler,

afforded them accommodation in his house. They took their places at the

drawing-room windows, and were thus enabled to command an excellent

view of the whole melancholy scene.

Shortly after seven o’clock, the executioner made his appearance on

the drop, and placed the steps by which he was to ascend to tie the

sufferers to the fatal beam. The saw-dust, which had been previously

collected in two small heaps on the second scaffold, was now spread

over the boards.

The coffins were then brought out, and placed on the saw-dust, the foot

of each being put so as nearly to touch the platform, from which those

who were to fill them were to be launched into eternity. They had no

lids on them. The coffin of Thistlewood was first lifted out. The third

coffin brought out appeared longer than the others, and was supposed to

be intended for Davidson, who was the tallest man; but this conjecture

proved erroneous.

The persons employed to bring the coffins swept out the large one,

and then proceeded to throw saw-dust into them, that the blood of the

sufferers might not find its way through.

The block was now brought up, and placed at the head of the first

coffin. Most of the spectators were surprised at the shape of the

block, as, instead of presenting a flat surface, it was slanted off,

so that the top of it was quite sharp.

The awful moment was now rapidly approaching when the ill-fated men

were to be removed to another world. Each of them conversed freely with

the officers who had them in charge, and severally declared that moment

to be the happiest of their lives.

Davidson alone continued to pray fervently to the moment of his

removal; but the others seemed perfectly unmoved by their approaching

fate.

The six prisoners who had received the royal clemency, had been

previously removed to another part of the prison, under the care and

superintendence of a turnkey.

The four before-mentioned, _viz._ Strange, Cooper, Bradburn, and

Gilchrist, continued to express themselves in the most grateful and

enthusiastic terms, that their lives had been saved through the kind

and benevolent interposition of those illustrious personages whose

lives were intended to fall sacrifices to their diabolical project; but

Wilson and Harrison persisted in the most obstinate indifference to the

mercy which had been so graciously extended towards them. During the

night and morning, they became excessively uneasy; and, while they wept

for the ignominious fate of their companions, they expressed a wish

that they might have been participators in its consequences, horrible

as they were.

About half-past seven o’clock, the Sheriffs, Under-Sheriffs, several

young noblemen, and a number of gentlemen, walked in the procession (as

is usual) through the various passages in Newgate, till they arrived at

the door of the condemned cells, which comes into the press-yard. The

unhappy criminals, since receiving sentence of death, had been confined

in the lower ward of the prison assigned to capital convicts.

Thistlewood came out of the condemned cell first; he bowed to the

Sheriffs and gentlemen present; he looked very pale, he cast up his

eyes, and said, “It appears fine.” He displayed uncommon firmness,

and held out his hands for the assistant executioner to tie them. He

observed to the persons near him, that he never felt in better spirits

in the course of his life. He was attired in the same apparel that he

wore during his trial. The composure he exhibited was striking; but

there was nothing like bravado or carelessness. He now advanced to the

block to have his irons knocked off; and, while the turnkey was in the

act,

Mr. Alderman Wood advanced to Thistlewood, and said, “Thistlewood, I

wish you to give me an answer to two or three questions.”

_Mr. Sheriff Rothwell_--“Mr. Alderman, I must interfere. I am sure you

have had quite experience enough of magisterial duties to know, that

on a solemn occasion of this kind, you ought not to interfere with a

prisoner on the point of death.”

_Mr. Alderman Wood_--“You prevented me, Mr. Sheriff, from entering

Newgate yesterday, to obtain the information I am now about to seek.

You have no authority to prevent me from now having it, as the gaol is

this day under the superintendence of Lord Sidmouth; and I must persist

in obtaining answers to my questions, if the prisoner chooses to give

them.”

_Mr. Sheriff Rothwell_--“I cannot suffer you to disturb the quiet of

this unhappy man’s mind at this awful moment, Mr. Alderman. I must, by

virtue of my office, interfere, and prevent you from doing any thing

which can have a tendency to distract the mind of a man in his awful

situation--one who is indeed dead in law.”

_Mr. Sheriff Parkins_--“I must insist on the Worthy Alderman’s being

permitted to put any question he pleases, unless the prisoner objects.

I now authorise Alderman Wood to put whatever questions he wishes.”

_Mr. Sheriff Rothwell_--“Well, I must again object. I think it highly

improper.”

_Mr. Alderman Wood_--“I have the questions here written down, and I’ll

put them to you. Thistlewood, when did you first become acquainted with

Edwards?”

_Thistlewood_--“About June last.”

_Mr. Alderman Wood_--“Where did you become acquainted with Edwards?”

_Thistlewood_--“At Preston’s.”

_Mr. Alderman Wood_, who did not appear to have heard the final letter,

said, “At Preston, in Lancashire?”

_Thistlewood_--“No: at Preston’s, the shoemaker.”

_Mr. Alderman Wood_--“Did he ever give you any money?”

_Thistlewood_--“Yes, I had a little from him, a pound-note at a time.”

The Worthy Alderman wrote down the answers he had received to his

questions.

Mr. Sheriff Rothwell appeared extremely angry at the course taken

by the Worthy Alderman, while his colleague, Mr. Sheriff Parkins,

expressed his warm approbation of it.

Tidd next made his appearance; he came out of the cell into the

Press-yard with an air of assumed gaiety. He smiled during the time

he was being pinioned, and continued quite cheerful during the time

his irons were knocking off. The moment his legs were free from their

burden, he ran towards Thistlewood, who had taken a seat on a bench

(placed in the yard for the purpose), and said, “Well, Mr. Thistlewood,

how do you do,” and they shook hands most heartily. Thistlewood said,

“He was never better.” Tidd conversed in the most gay and cheerful

manner with the turnkey, while he was driving the rivets out of his

irons, and composedly assisted the man in taking them off.

Ings then came out of the cell, and danced as he came down the steps

along the yard. He was dressed in his usual clothes as a butcher, a

rough pepper-and-salt coloured worsted jacket, and a dirty cap. During

the time his hands were being tied he became thoughtful, afterwards

he seemed hurried and in great mental pain; but before his irons were

knocked off he began to laugh and shout, and afterwards took a seat by

the side of his fellow-sufferers.

Brunt was then brought into the Press-yard; he was perfectly composed,

but looked round eagerly to see his wretched companions. He nodded to

them, and then held out his hands to have them tied. He said nothing

during the time he was being pinioned and having his irons taken off;

but afterwards he addressed Thistlewood, Tidd, and Ings; he told them

to keep up their spirits, and to one of his companions he said, “All

will soon be well.”

Davidson was then brought out of his cell; he seemed a little affected

at the sight of his companions, but soon regained that composure which

he evinced during the trials. His lips moved; but he did not betray

much anxiety till his irons were knocked off. He then looked wildly at

the Rev. Mr. Cotton, and appeared to be in prayer, very devoutly; the

others declared they were about to die in peace with all mankind, but

that they had all made up their minds on religious matters, and were

determined to die Deists.

Davidson took the sacrament in the morning at six o’clock, from Mr.

Cotton, and prayed most fervently. He also joined the Rev. Gentleman in

a prayer for the prosperity of his Majesty King George IV., though he

avowed he had not the same feeling for his ministers. A glass of wine

was offered to Thistlewood, who politely refused. Tidd and Brunt took a

glass each.

The irons of the culprits were then knocked off in succession.

Thistlewood requested Mr. Cotton to speak to him, but for no other

motive than to request he would observe his conduct had been manly, and

to state that he was perfectly happy, and died in peace with God.

Even to the last moment, the attentions of the Reverend Ordinary

to the four men whom we have pointed out were unavailing: to every

remonstrance he offered, the only answer was, they wanted no assistance

of his, their minds were perfectly made up on religious subjects, and

they believed they should receive mercy at the hands of God.

When the awful ceremony of pinioning the culprits by the yeoman of

the halter was concluded, they each shook hands, and most fervently

exclaimed, “God bless you.” The Reverend Mr. Cotton then began to read

the burial service, commencing at the words “I am the resurrection and

the life,” _&c._, and, the arrangements being completed, the procession

advanced through the dark passages of the gaol, led by the Sheriffs and

Under-Sheriffs. The Reverend Mr. Cotton moved first.

Thistlewood followed, with his eyes fixed, as it were, in abstract

thought, and apparently lost to his situation. A vacant and unmeaning

stare pervaded his countenance, which seemed unmoved by the devotions

of the pious Ordinary.

Tidd walked next, and although somewhat affected by his situation, his

manner was collected, manly, and unaffectedly firm.

Ings came next, and was laughing without reserve, and used every forced

effort to subdue the better feelings of nature, which might remind him

of his awful situation; his conduct was more like a delirium of fear

than an effect of courage.

Brunt, in fixed and hardened obduracy of mind, next advanced, and with

a sullen and morose air of indifference surveyed the officers who were

conducting him to his fate.

The unhappy Davidson came last, with clasped hands and uplifted eyes,

praying most devoutly; and the officers of the gaol closed the mournful

procession.

On their arrival at the Lodge, from which the Debtors’-door leads

to the scaffold, a moment’s pause took place, while the dreadful

paraphernalia of death were adjusted without. Thistlewood, who stood

first, clasped his lips, and with a frown surveyed, from the door-way

in which he stood, the awful preparations for his fate.

The Under-Sheriff, at this period stepped into the road from the

Governor’s house, to ascertain how far the preparations had proceeded.

Every thing seemed to be completely arranged. A party of the

Horse-Guards seemed about to pass the barrier beyond which they had

previously been stationed, but they did not persevere, in consequence

of the difficulty of penetrating the crowd.

The persons who had previously retired from the front of the prison

now (at twenty minutes before eight) returned to their old places on

the top of it. This, with other circumstances just particularized,

announced that the culprits were about to be conducted to the scaffold.

The re-appearance of the executioner, and the solemn sound of the bell,

removed all doubt on the subject. Every one felt that the awful moment

was at hand; and the assembled thousands stood uncovered in silent,

breathless, expectation.

Those opposite the prison saw in the next moment the procession from

the interior of it reach the door through which the culprits were to

pass to expiate their crimes with their blood.

The Ordinary ascended the platform, and at a quarter before eight

Thistlewood made his appearance on the scaffold. His step faultered a

little as he mounted the platform, and his countenance was somewhat

flushed and disordered on being conducted to the extremity of the drop.

His deportment was firm, and he looked round at the multitude with

perfect calmness. He had an orange in his hand. On the cap being placed

on his head, he desired that it might not be put over his eyes. While

the executioner was putting the rope round his neck, a person from the

top of the houses exclaimed, “Good Almighty bless you.” Thistlewood

nodded. The Reverend Mr. Cotton, by whom he was preceded, endeavoured

to obtain his attention; but he shook his head, and said, “No, no.”

He looked round repeatedly, as expecting to recognise some one in the

crowd, and appeared rather disconcerted at observing the distance to

which the populace were removed.

Some of those to whom the face of Thistlewood was not familiar,

imagined that he gave proofs of the fear of death upon the scaffold,

but in this supposition they were much mistaken. At the moment that he

has been heard uttering his dangerous politics in safety, and declaring

his determination to stand or fall by them, the expression of his

features was the same; and Thistlewood with the rope round his neck was

the same Thistlewood that appeared so conspicuous at Smithfield.

Mr. Cotton approached him while the executioner was making his awful

arrangements, and spoke to him upon the subject of his thoughts of

hereafter. Thistlewood shook his head, and said he required no earthly

help upon that subject. He then sucked his orange, and, looking down

at the officers who were collected about the scaffold, said, in a firm

voice, “I have but a few moments to live, and I hope the world will be

convinced that I have been sincere in my endeavours, and that I die a

friend to liberty.”

The figure of the miserable man, which naturally was not good, had

undergone a change for the worse: in consequence of the pressure of

the rope with which his arms were fastened behind, his shoulders were

raised to a degree that closely approached deformity. The executioner

having placed the cap upon his head, and fastened the rope round the

beam, looked towards the Sheriff as a signal that his duties towards

Thistlewood were completed.

While the executioner was performing his last offices without to this

wretched man, the scene within the Lodge was almost beyond the power of

description. The dreadful obduracy of Brunt and Ings filled with horror

the small assemblage of persons among whom they stood.

Ings, with a hardihood almost indescribable, sucked an orange, with

which Sheriff Parkins had provided him, as well as all the other

prisoners, and sung, or rather screamed, in a discordant voice, “Oh!

give me death or liberty!” Brunt rejoined, “Aye, to be sure. It is

better to die free, than to live slaves!”

A gentleman in the Lodge admonished them to consider their approaching

fate, and to recollect the existence of a Deity, into whose supreme

presence a few minutes would usher them.

Brunt exclaimed, “I know there is a God!” and Ings added, “Yes, to be

sure; and I hope he will be more merciful to us than they are here.”

Tidd, who had stood in silence, was now summoned to the scaffold. He

shook hands with all but Davidson, who had separated himself from the

rest.

Ings again seized Tidd’s hand at the moment he was going out, and

exclaimed, with a burst of laughter, “Give us your hand! Good-bye!”

A tear stood in Tidd’s eye, and his lips involuntarily muttered, “My

wife and----!”

Ings proceeded--“Come my old cock-o’-wax, keep up your spirits; it all

will be over soon.”

Tidd immediately squeezed his hand, and ran towards the stairs leading

to the scaffold. In his hurry, his foot caught the bottom step, and he

stumbled. He recovered himself, however, in an instant, and rushed upon

the scaffold, where he was immediately received with three cheers from

the crowd, in which he made a slight effort to join.

The applause was evidently occasioned by the bold and fearless manner

in which the wretched man advanced to his station. He turned to the

crowd who were upon Snow-hill, and bowed to them. He then looked down

upon the coffins and smiled, and turning round to the people who were

collected in the Old-Bailey towards Ludgate-hill, bowed to them.

Several voices were again heard, and some in the crowd expressed their

admiration of Tidd’s conduct.

The rope having been put round his neck, he told the executioner that

the knot would be better on the right than on the left side, and that

the pain of dying might be diminished by the change. He then assisted

the executioner, and turned round his head several times for the

purpose of fitting the rope to his neck. He afterwards familiarly

nodded to some one whom he recognised at a window, with an air of

cheerfulness. He also desired that the cap might not be put over his

eyes, but said nothing more. He likewise had an orange in his hand,

which he continued to suck most heartily. He soon became perfectly

calm, and remained so till the last moment of his life.

In the interim, Davidson, who had not yet come out, leaned with

his back against a dresser in the lodge, and continued with his

hands clasped, praying in the most fervent manner, and calling with

unfeigned and unreserved piety for the intervention of the Redeemer.

Brunt and Ings, however, persevered in the same hardihood that they

had manifested throughout, and continued venting their thoughts in

unreserved ejaculations.

A humane individual who stood by remonstrated with Brunt again, and

besought him to ask pardon of God.

Brunt, with a fierce and savage air, surveyed his adviser

contemptuously, and exclaimed, “What have I done? I have done nothing!

What should I ask pardon for?” The stranger rejoined, “So you say,

Brunt; but if you have ever injured any man, or done any thing which

your conscience tells you is wrong, ask pardon of God, penitently

and sincerely, and you will, I have no doubt, obtain mercy.”--Brunt

replied, “I die with a perfectly clear conscience. I have made my peace

with God, and I never injured no man.” The stranger proceeded, “Believe

in the Lord Jesus Christ!” Brunt surveyed his humane adviser again, and

muttered, “My mind is made up.”

“Well done, Brunt!” exclaimed Ings, and was again proceeding to sing,

“Oh give me death or liberty,”

when he was summoned to the scaffold. He turned to Brunt, and, with a

smile on his countenance, shook hands with him, and prepared to go.

While the hatch was opening, he exclaimed, with a loud voice, “Remember

me to King George the IVth; God bless him, and may he have a long

reign.” He now recollected that he had some clothes left behind, which

he requested might be given to his wife. The wretched man had thrown

off the clothes in which he had been tried, and had put on an old

butcher’s jacket, determining, as he said, “that Jack Ketch should

have no coat of his.”

[Illustration: JAMES INGS.