“Prisoner, you have been indicted, tried, and convicted of a crime which
the law of this country has thought fit to make capital, and now the
most painful moment that I have undergone in the course of this trial is
arrived, for it is my duty to pass upon you that dreadful sentence. I
shall not interrupt those feelings which I trust you have by talking to
you of the enormity of the offence which you have committed, because it
is impossible for me, or any man who hears me, to add a word by way of
aggravation to it, and it has this in particular about it, that it
cannot have been committed from any motives of private malice, revenge,
or lucre. It can have proceeded only from a general malignity of mind,
which has broke out in a desire and a design, not only to ruin one
devoted individual, but to involve every one of this audience, nay, the
whole English nation perhaps, in immediate ruin. You cannot, therefore,
be surprised that the law has thought fit to punish such a crime with
death. You can as little be surprised if, after you have been convicted
upon the clearest evidence of this offence, I can give you no hope of
pardon.[11] It is impossible for me to say a word on your behalf, and
therefore I must entreat and conjure you, in the most solemn manner, to
prepare yourself during the few days you have to live, to meet the great
God in another world, and to ask him there for that pardon which you
could not receive in this; there it will be worth receiving; and
atrocious as your crime has been, short as the time is that you have to
live, a sincere repentance now on your part may, and I hope in God will,
procure you mercy at His hands. I say all this not to taunt or distress
you in your present unhappy situation, but merely from motives of
humanity and religion. For you cannot be suffered to live in this world;
you must die, and that within a very few days. And therefore, before you
go into eternity, for your soul’s sake do what you can, that that
eternity may be an eternity of bliss instead of misery. I have only now
to pronounce the painful[12] sentence of the law which I am bound to do,
and I accordingly adjudge and order you to be hanged by the neck until
you shall be dead; and the Lord have mercy upon your soul.”
The Prisoner: “My lord, I am exceedingly well satisfied.”
On the morning after his condemnation, he informed the turnkey of his
own spontaneous accord that he felt an earnest desire of confessing his
crime, and laying the history of his life before the public; and that,
by discovering the whole of his unaccountable plots and treasonable
practices, he might make some atonement to his most injured country for
the wrongs he had done, of which he was now truly sensible, and a
repentant sinner.
This request being made known to John, fourth Earl of Sandwich, then
First Lord of the Admiralty, that nobleman directed Sir John Fielding to
send down proper persons to take and attest his confession. The culprit
confessed accordingly, and the statement signed by him, and dated 7th
March, 1777, was attested by George Durnford and N. P. Smith, Esqs.,
Justices of the Peace for the city of Winchester. It tallies with the
more lengthy account of his hideous career which the prisoner also drew
out, signed, and left for publication.
The prisoner was carried from Winchester Gaol on the 10th March, 1777,
to Portsmouth, where it was appointed he should be executed at the dock
gate.
Having been carried in an open cart by the hemp-house, and round the
ruins of the rope-house, when he came opposite the commissioner’s house
he desired to speak with the commissioner, who thereupon went up close
to him. He said:—
“Sir, I acknowledge my crime, and hope for forgiveness from God, through
the merits of my Saviour Jesus Christ. I ask pardon of you, sir, and
hope your forgiveness.”
Upon the cart’s moving, he said, “he had one thing more to observe as a
caution to all the commissioners of the dockyards throughout England, to
be more vigilant and strictly careful of them for the future, because it
is in the power of a determined and resolute man to do a great deal of
mischief.” As the cart stopped at the end of the rope-house, he looked
attentively at the scene of his offence, and said, “I acknowledge my
crime, and am sorry for it.” On returning out of the dockyard, upon
being asked if he had anything more to say to the commissioner, he said,
“No; only I recommend great care and strict vigilance at the dockyards
at Chatham, Woolwich, Deptford, Portsmouth, and Plymouth, and
particularly at the rope-house at the latter.” Just before he was turned
off he said:—
“I acknowledge the justness of my sentence, and hope for forgiveness, as
I forgive all the world. I wish success to His Majesty King George and
his family, and all his loyal subjects, and I hope for forgiveness of
all the transactions that I have been guilty of from the year 1772,
since my apprenticeship, and the world will be satisfied about me, as my
life will be very soon in print.”
The convict then giving the signal, was drawn up by the pulleys to the
top of the gibbet, which was made of the mizen mast of the _Arethusa_
frigate, and was sixty-four feet and a half high. He hung one hour, and
was taken down and suspended in chains on Blockhouse Port, at the mouth
of Portsmouth Harbour, where his body remained gibbetted for several
years.
The prisoner’s full confession was published after his death, and it
forms so extraordinary a narrative, that the major portion of it may not
be inappropriately inserted here. It runs as follows:—
“I drew my first breath at Edinburgh, in Scotland. My father, David
Aitken, was a whitesmith, which business he for many years carried on in
a creditable way. I was brought up in the persuasion of a Protestant
dissenter, and being the only son, was treated with that paternal
affection which, by gratifying all my desires, begot in me the most
stubborn and obdurate disposition. At nine years of age I was placed in
Heriot’s Hospital at Edinburgh, a charitable foundation of the same kind
with Christ’s Hospital in London, where, continuing for six years, and
having the advantage of a liberal education and a natural taste for
drawing, I was at the age of fifteen apprenticed to an eminent painter
in the city of Edinburgh, and I served the whole of my apprenticeship,
much to my own credit, and to the satisfaction of my master. My leisure
hours were generally employed in reading the most favourite subjects of
the marvellous kind, such as the desperate expeditions and engagements
of brave men both by sea and land. At the expiration of my
apprenticeship, I set off with my mind thus prepared to seek my fortune.
I had before lost my father, whose sudden death prevented him from
placing me in business under his own eye, as was his original intention.
His circumstances were such as could not enable him to make provision
for me equal to the notions I had entertained. I had very early
contracted an itch for the service, and notwithstanding the affairs of
my father, I had yet hopes of procuring a commission in the land forces.
I applied to my mother to assist in importuning my friends and relations
to serve me in this particular. But our endeavours were in vain, and I
saw the object of my ambition beyond my reach. I therefore, in a fit of
resentment, embarked for London with all the money I could scrape
together, not doubting but I should get into some creditable employ
before it was all spent.
“On my arrival in the great metropolis, I applied to people in the
painting way, and immediately got into employ. But business not long
agreeing with my inclination, and having formed an acquaintance with
some extravagant young men, by whom I was led into all manner of vice
and debauchery, I soon found the last farthing of my little pittance
expended. In this condition, deserted by my companions, and in a strange
country, I determined to relieve myself on the highway. I accordingly
provided myself with pistols, and without the least concern or
apprehension of danger, proceeded to Finchley Common. Perceiving a
post-chaise, I made up to it, and with a discharge of one of my pistols,
demanded them to stop. My success in the first attack tempted me to
proceed, so that before midnight came on I had robbed several carriages
and horsemen, and upon the whole had collected a considerable booty. I
returned to London with great satisfaction, and finding out my old
companions, informed them I had just received a large sum of money. They
congratulated me on my good fortune, and readily took me again into
their party. I observed myself advertised, and an exact description of
my person and dress in all the papers. It was therefore my first care to
change my clothes and make every alteration in my person I could
possibly devise, and it was my fortune to escape undiscovered. My own
excess and that of my companions soon reduced me to the last shilling;
at length, dreading the consequences of a detection, I determined to
seize the first opportunity of leaving the kingdom. America presented
itself to my imagination, and I readily believed it would turn out most
to my advantage. Hearing of a vessel bound to America, I made
application to the master, Captain John Robertson, who took me into his
service: but not having money to provide myself with such things as were
necessary for the voyage, I indented myself to him till such time as I
should pay him twenty-four pounds Virginia money, and then was to have
my full liberty. Soon after my arrival in Virginia, Captain Robertson
having taken in a freight for England, consigned me over to one Mr.
Graham, of James’ Town. But as it never was my intention to remain
longer with the captain than suited my convenience, I immediately
quitted the service of Mr. Graham, and travelled up the country through
Maryland, till I arrived at Philadelphia. From thence I went to Amboy,
and got employment in the painting business; but hearing there was
better encouragement at New York, I made the best of my way to that
city, where I received better wages, and remained very well satisfied
for a considerable time. Upon hearing of the riots at Boston, the
restlessness of my disposition would not suffer me to remain any longer
at New York, and meeting with a companion, we agreed to set out together
for that place, and I cannot deny being very active in those riots,
particularly in sinking the tea, and insulting the friends of
Government. When I heard of the armaments raising in Great Britain
against America, and the expectation of a British fleet at Boston, I
thought it advisable to leave the place, and therefore took the
opportunity of a vessel and went to North Carolina, where meeting with
another vessel bound to England, I got leave to work my passage home,
and arrived at Liverpool in May, 1775. As soon as I had landed, having
no money, I enlisted into a recruiting party, and received twenty-six
shillings, with which in a few days I deserted, intending to go to
Shrewsbury. In my way between Warrington and Holmes Chapel, I broke into
a little shop and stole several handkerchiefs, &c. By the time I left
Shrewsbury my money was nearly exhausted, upon which I broke into a shop
and robbed it of a quantity of halfpence and about five shillings in
silver, and I made off in the night for Birmingham. Soon after I arrived
at Birmingham I purchased a pistol and several picklocks, and after
pilfering a number of shops, I left Birmingham and took the road to
Coventry. In my way to that city I broke open a house in a little town a
few miles from it, where I stole a great quantity of handkerchiefs, &c.,
with which before daylight I reached Coventry.
“On my arrival at Coventry I met with another recruiting party, into
which I also enlisted. I received half a guinea earnest, with which I
absconded in the morning. I went to a hedge a little way out of the
town, where I had secreted the handkerchiefs, and set off with them on
my return towards London. I continued in London almost four months,
where I got into connexion with some women of the town, which led me to
commit a number of street robberies for my support. I also broke open a
house at Kensington, and committed several robberies upon the outskirts
of London.”
Here follows a detail of other fraudulent enlistments and felonious
offences committed by him in various parts of England. He then comes to
the great crime which brought him to the scaffold:—
“One night being in conversation concerning the American war, the
importance of His Majesty’s fleets and dockyards was the argument, and
it was with satisfaction I heard every one agree that the safety, the
welfare, and even the existence of the nation depended on them. I
endeavoured to keep the conversation up as much as possible, and the
more it was canvassed, the more evident was the truth of the former
conclusion. It is amazing with what force this conversation kept
possession of my mind. In the night I had a thousand ideas, and all
tended to show how important would be the event in favour of America,
provided these dockyards and shipping should be destroyed. The more I
considered, the more plausible was the undertaking. I spent two days in
the contemplation of this malicious design, and promised myself immortal
honour in the accomplishment of it. I beheld it in the light of a truly
heroic enterprise, such as never would have been equalled to the end of
time. I was persuaded it would entitle me to the first rank in America,
and flattered myself with the ambition of becoming the admiration of the
world! I set off for Portsmouth to inform myself of the particular
situation, as also of the materials and stores with which these
magazines were composed. I took account of all the ships of war in the
harbour, their force and the number of men. I also took a plan of the
fortifications unnoticed by the sentinels, the number of guns mounted on
them, and their weight of metal. From hence I went to Plymouth, where I
found things in much the same situation. My next care was to visit
Chatham with the same circumspect attention, and in which I conducted
myself with the same success. From hence I went to the yards at Woolwich
and Deptford, and in both places informed myself of everything material.
Having spared no labour in perfecting this general survey, I formed a
design of going over to America to lay my plans and observations before
the Congress, as well as to procure their sanction to the undertaking.
After a deal of argument with myself, I at length resolved to proceed to
Mr. Silas Deane and Dr. Franklin at Paris. I re-examined all my plans,
threw my observations into proper order, and secreted them in a private
part of my clothes to prevent an accidental discovery; and having made
every other necessary preparation for my departure, I made the best of
my way to Canterbury and Dover.
“I hired a small sailing boat to take me over. I embarked with only two
hands, and in less than nine hours landed at Calais without any further
difficulty. I made my way pretty readily and expeditiously to Paris,
sometimes taking the advantage of a carriage, and sometimes walking on
foot. My first inquiry at Paris was to find out the lodgings of Mr.
Silas Deane. I called upon him at two different times, but did not meet
with him at home. I at last saw him on the _Pont Neuf_ in Paris. He
treated me at first with great caution and indifference, but finding my
solicitations very earnest, he desired I would meet him the next morning
at his lodgings. I called on him at the time appointed, and was
conducted into an elegant apartment, where he was waiting for me. To
make myself of as much consequence as possible, I informed him that I
had a plantation in America; that I was an utter enemy to Great Britain;
that I had contrived a scheme which, if properly carried into execution,
would effectually destroy the power of the Ministry, and throw the
kingdom into the greatest confusion, if not into the hands of America.
He expressed great surprise at my conversation, and desired me to give
him an explanation of my meaning. I laid before him all my plans, and he
at length seemed satisfied that it was practicable, and gave me a letter
to a friend in London to supply me with money; and as soon as my pass
was procured, I set off for Calais, and arrived at Dover, which place I
immediately left, and took the road to Canterbury and Chatham. Here I
spent two days in making some fresh observations on the ships and
dockyards, after which I set out for London, in order to take road for
Portsmouth.
“I arrived at Portsmouth on Thursday evening, the 5th of December, 1776,
and immediately began to lay down a plan of operations. I concluded that
in so large a place a number of fire engines were kept, and that on the
first alarm they would fly to the assistance of the dock, and perhaps
extinguish the fire before any considerable damage could be done. To
prevent this I thought it would be necessary to set the town on fire at
two different parts, imagining that the surprise and consternation which
it would naturally occasion would prevent people from giving assistance
to either, till the flames had made such progress as not to be got
under. In the morning I applied at two houses for lodgings, one of which
was occupied by Mrs. Boxell. I agreed with her for them. I left my
bundle with her and said I should return in the evening. From hence I
went to a public-house, refreshed myself, and engaged also for a bed. My
next care was to visit the dockyard. My first intention was to set fire
to the hemp-house, in which I secreted myself behind a large mow or
bundle of hemp, supposing there was no danger of being discovered,
although a number of men were employed in different parts of the
building, under which I placed my combustibles, and intending to go in
about two hours afterwards to set it on fire. But lest this should not
take proper effect or be extinguished before it could communicate itself
to other parts of the yard, I thought it would be more effectual to set
fire to some other store-house also. In walking round the yard I
observed the rope-house open, into which I went, and having gone all
over it up stairs and down, I pitched upon a room containing a parcel of
ropes and some hemp, which I thought a very proper place to set on fire.
I went away and returned with two quarts of the spirits of turpentine,
some gunpowder, and some touch-paper which I had previously made. I drew
the cork from one of the bottles, and having prepared a train of hemp
soaked in the spirits, I filled the neck of the bottle therewith, which
I placed among the ropes, and covered it over with a quantity of refuse
hemp which I found lying about. I placed the bottle upon its side, and
put the train of hemp into a paper of dry gunpowder, and having covered
the whole lightly over with hemp, I sprinkled the remaining spirits of
turpentine upon the whole. I now pulled out my pistol tinder-box and
endeavoured to strike a light in order to set it on fire; but the tinder
being either damp or badly burnt, would not take fire. The attention
with which I was endeavouring to light my match prevented me from
observing the time, and therefore when I had found it impossible to
strike a light, and was preparing to go to my lodgings, I found myself
locked into the house. I was a little uneasy upon this occasion for fear
of raising suspicion, particularly as I should be obliged to appear
again to light the matches, which I had now failed in. I went from one
end of the building to the other, which was of a prodigious length, and
tried every door I could find, but all was fast. I went up stairs very
gently for fear of being heard, intending to make my escape from one of
the windows; but this I also found impossible. I then went back to the
door at which I came in, and knocked for a considerable time. At last a
lad came up and asked who was there. I told him I was a friend, and had
come into the dockyard out of curiosity, having never been at Portsmouth
before, and while I went up stairs to see this great building somebody
had locked up the doors. I therefore begged he would let me out. He went
away to call some other person, who directed me to a certain door in the
building, at which he said I might let myself out. In order to allay
their suspicion, I appeared to be very ignorant in every respect, and
asked them a number of simple questions, for I very much expected to be
taken into custody.
“I went to a public house to refresh myself, and from thence to my
lodgings, at Mrs. Boxell’s. I went to bed and slept till about five
o’clock in the morning of Saturday, the 7th of December, when I struck a
light and got up. My first business was to mix up proper combustibles to
set that house on fire, and the public-house I had before taken lodgings
at. The sulphureous smell occasioned by the flammable articles brought
up Mrs. Boxell, who in a violent passion burst open the door, asked me
whether I was setting the room on fire, and insisted upon my leaving her
house, saying she was sure I could have no good design. Finding her in
earnest, I thought it most prudent to quit her lodgings without entering
into further dispute, which could only tend to injure my business; so I
took my bundle and walked almost two hours round Portsmouth Common to
seek for another lodging. Observing a house in North Street which seemed
to answer my purpose, I went in and agreed for a lodging, saying I was
going a little way out of town, but should return in the evening; in the
meanwhile desired the woman of the house (Mrs. Cole) to take care of my
bundle.
“My next object was to accomplish the business in the dockyard. I went
first to the hemp-house, and after waiting a safe opportunity, got into
the room where I had left the materials, struck a light with my pistol
tinder-box, and lighted the candle which I had before placed in the tin
case under the hemp. I since find that this machine did not take effect.
Having, as I thought, effectually completed my business here, I directed
my steps towards the rope-house, and after waiting almost two hours, I
took an opportunity of lighting the match that communicated to the
gunpowder, which I believe took effect in about an hour and a half. The
instant I had finished I quitted the dockyard, intending to go
immediately to set fire to both my lodgings; but meeting a person near
the dock gates who knew me when I worked at Titchfield during the time I
was making my observations, and seeing him look at me very steadfastly,
and recollecting at the same instant the affair at Boxell’s, I ran very
precipitately out of town without giving myself time to call for my
bundle, dreading an information, and the consequence of being taken into
custody. When I had gone a little way out of town, I overtook a cart
going from market, and in order to make more haste and be less observed,
I prevailed with the woman who drove the cart to give me a lift, telling
her I had to go to Petersfield that night, and would make her any
satisfaction. I travelled all night without intermission, and arrived
upon Kingston-upon-Thames about eleven o’clock on Sunday morning, where
I stayed upwards of three hours to refresh myself.
“On my arrival in London, I concluded myself out of danger, and began to
ruminate on my plan for the destruction of Plymouth; and arrived at
Plymouth, and went with a design to visit the dockyard; but to my great
surprise found the guard stricter, and the admission of strangers
objected to, occasioned, as I was informed, by the burning of Portsmouth
dock, which was supposed to have been purposely set on fire.”
He then enters into a detail of his attempt at Plymouth, where he could
do nothing effectually owing to the vigilance of the sentinels. He
thereupon turned his mind to Bristol:—
“Very much vexed at my disappointment, I determined to make the best of
my way to Bristol; and as I was disappointed at Plymouth, resolved to
destroy Bristol entirely and all the shipping. I arrived at Bristol on
Monday, the 13th of January, and spent the whole of Tuesday, the 14th,
in acquainting myself with the shipping, upon which I intended to make
the first attempt, supposing, if I had any success, they would
communicate the flames to the whole town. About midnight I proceeded
with all my materials towards the quay. I got on board the _Savannah la
Mar_, a Jamaicaman, and placed a quantity of turpentine, rosin, pitch,
&c., round the mizen mast, to which I set fire. I then went on board the
_La Fame_, another Jamaicaman, which lay at a little distance, in which
I also placed a like quantity of combustible matter, and set fire to it.
I then proceeded to another part of the quay, and got on board the
_Hibernia_, an Irish trader, in which I placed a like quantity of
inflammable materials, and a quart bottle of spirits of turpentine, to
which I also set fire. I then broke open a warehouse belonging to a
druggist, in Cypher Lane, supposing there were large quantities of oils
and spirits of different kinds, which would occasion a dreadful fire in
that part of the town. I set fire to a box in the middle of the
warehouse, which I supposed would soon communicate to all parts of it.
Having, as I thought, effected my business very complete, I walked
almost four miles out of town, and stayed till near eight o’clock in the
morning; but not perceiving anything of the fire, I returned to see
whether it had taken effect, which I could do without suspicion, as I
supposed people would see that I had just come into town. I went to the
quay, where I observed one vessel, the _Savannah la Mar_, was much
burnt; but the fire in the other two had gone out without taking effect.
I also found I had miscarried in Cypher Lane, where the box of
combustible matter had burnt out without doing any damage, which I
thought very extraordinary, as I made sure of burning all that part of
the town by this means. I was mostly vexed at the miscarriage among the
shipping, as I found a strict watch was to be kept up in future which
rendered all future attempts upon them impracticable; I thought of one
scheme, however, which I had some hopes of succeeding in. Observing a
vast number of barrels of oil upon the quay, situated very near a line
of ships, I contrived the ensuing night to convey a large quantity of
combustible materials amongst them, to which I set fire, hoping by this
means to burn all the ships that lay near: but herein also I found
myself disappointed; my matches went out without effecting the intended
mischief, though greatly to my mortification. About two o’clock the next
morning I proceeded to my new business, having the evening before fixed
upon a number of warehouses, which I supposed, as it was now Sunday
morning, would not be frequented, and therefore little danger of the
fire being discovered till it had taken proper effect. I laid matches in
upwards of a dozen warehouses, which I supposed would take fire before
daylight, and from their number and situation be impossible to be got
under, so that I promised myself I had accomplished the destruction of
the whole town, or at least that part of it which was of most
consequence. With this persuasion I left Bristol about six o’clock in
the morning, and walked about three miles out of town, when turning
round, I thought the whole element was in flames, so dreadful was the
appearance it had at that distance, which tempted me to return to be an
eyewitness of the destruction I had wrought. On my nearer approach the
flames seemed to abate; but I found the whole city in consternation and
terror; though my scheme had not answered my full intention. My matches
had only taken effect in Quay Lane among the warehouses of Mr. Browne,
bookseller, which occasioned a dreadful fire in that part of the town:
in every other part I found my endeavours had failed. To compensate for
this, I determined to make a fresh attempt on the Sunday night, and made
every preparation for that purpose. Between one and two o’clock on
Monday morning I set about this business, but was prevented by the
vigilance of the watch raised by the inhabitants of the city, to patrol
the streets, which obliged me to decline anything further that night. I
made several fresh attempts the Monday and Tuesday nights following, but
the patrol were too vigilant to allow me time to proceed. I therefore
left Bristol, finding it impossible to complete my design.
“I now determined to make the best of my way to Paris, to acquaint Mr.
Deane with my success, and I reached Calne, where observing a
haberdasher’s shop, kept by one Mr. Lowe, I broke it open, and stole
therefrom twenty pounds, some muslin, &c. It was to this little town
that Mr. Lowe, whose shop I had broken open, and Mr. Dalby, keeper of
Andover Bridewell, had both traced me. Mr. Lowe had got a description of
my person from his wife, who observed me take particular notice of the
shop, and concluded the next day that I had committed the burglary. Mr.
Dalby had heard of my going through Andover, and finding I answered the
description of the person advertised in the papers for setting fire to
Portsmouth Dock, he set out in pursuit of me, and took me at this town,
in whose custody Mr. Lowe found me on his arrival shortly after. I was
taken before the Hon. Sir H. P. St. John, Knt., who committed me to
Odiham Bridewell on suspicion of breaking open Mr. Lowe’s house; but
Government having notice of my being in custody ordered me to the New
Prison, Clerkenwell, to be examined before Sir John Fielding, relative
to the fire at Portsmouth. Nothing appearing sufficiently strong against
me to prove guilt in this particular, I was remanded back to New Prison,
in order to be conveyed to Salisbury to take my trial for breaking open
Mr. Lowe’s house; but my being decoyed into the trap set for me by Mr.
Baldwin, to whom I disclosed the whole of my proceedings against
Government, has brought me a death which the enormity of my crime
deserves; but which, through sincere repentance, I hope will be forgiven
as I forgive Mr. Baldwin and all the world.—James Aitken.”
A debate in Parliament on the subject of Jack the Painter and his
offences led to a speech by Sir William Meredith against capital
punishments, which was so remarkable for being uttered at that terrible
penal period of our criminal jurisprudence, that I cannot refrain from
inserting the whole of it here. The occasion was this:—On the 13th of
May, 1777, the House of Commons sat in committee on a bill for the
better securing and preserving the dockyards, magazines, ships, vessels,
stores, warehouses, goods, and merchandizes, being the property of
private persons within this kingdom.
Sir Charles Bunbury, M.P. for Suffolk, moved to the effect, that persons
found guilty of offences against which the bill provided should not be
punished with death.
Mr. Combe, of Earns Hill, Somerset, M.P. for Aldborough, Suffolk,
thereupon thus expressed himself:—
“Whoever reads your statute book and sees how many crimes are punished
with death, which are much less heinous than burning of ships, I am
surprised any gentleman should it think not high time to put to death
such dangerous and wicked incendiaries. It is true John the Painter was
hanged for burning Portsmouth Dock, because there is an Act of
Parliament that makes it death to burn royal docks: but there is no Act
of Parliament to hang men for burning merchants’ ships or warehouses;
and if John the Painter had burned all the ships and warehouses in
Bristol, he would not have been hanged. And I think the example of death
full as proper in one case as the other.”
The Right Hon. Sir Wm. Meredith, M.P. for Liverpool, thus eloquently
replied to Mr. Combe:—
“I agree with my hon. friend that no greater crime can be committed than
the wilfully setting fire to merchants’ ships, which may endanger not
only lives and properties, but public safety. I should think this crime
above all others fit to be punished with death, if I could suppose the
infliction of death at all useful in the prevention of crimes. But, in
subjects of this nature, we are to consider not what the individual is
nor what he may have done, we are to consider only what is right for
public example and private safety. Whether hanging ever did or can
answer any good purpose, I doubt; but the cruel exhibition of every
execution day is a proof that hanging carries no terror with it; and I
am confident that every new sanguinary law operates as an encouragement
to commit capital offences; for it is not the mode but the certainty of
punishment that creates terror. What men know they must endure, they
fear; but what they think they can escape, they despise. The
multiplicity of our hanging laws has produced these two things,
frequency of condemnation and frequency of pardons. As hope is the first
and great spring of action, if it was so, that out of twenty convicts
only one was to be pardoned, the thief would say, ‘Why may not I be that
one?’ But since, as our laws are actually administered, not one in five
is executed, the thief acts on the chance of five to one in his favour;
he acts on a fair and reasonable presumption of indemnity: and I verily
believe that the confident hope of indemnity is the cause of nineteen in
twenty of the robberies that are committed. But if we look to the
executions themselves, what example do they give? The thief dies either
hardened or penitent. We are not to consider such reflections as occur
to reasonable and good men, but such impressions as are made on the
thoughtless, the desperate, and the wicked. These men look on the
hardened villain with envy and admiration. All that animation and
contempt of death with which heroes and martyrs inspire good men in a
good cause, the abandoned villain feels in seeing a desperado, like
himself, meet death with intrepidity. The penitent thief, on the other
hand, often makes the sober villain think this way. Himself oppressed
with poverty and want, he sees a man die with that penitence which
promised pardon for his sins here and happiness hereafter: that he
thinks, that by robbery, forgery, or murder, he can relieve all his
wants; and if he be brought to justice the punishment will be short and
trifling, and the reward eternal. Even in crimes which are seldom or
never pardoned, death is no prevention. Housebreakers, forgers, and
coiners, are sure to be hanged; yet housebreaking, forging, and coining,
are the very crimes which are oftenest committed. Strange it is, that,
in the case of blood, of which we ought to be most tender, we should
still go on against reason and against experience, to make unavailing
slaughter of our fellow creatures! A recent event has proved that policy
will do what blood cannot do: I mean the late regulation of the coinage.
Thirty years together men were continually hanged for coining; still it
went on, but, on the new regulation of the gold coin, ceased. This event
proves these two things: the efficacy of police and the inefficacy of
hanging. But is it not very extraordinary that, since the regulation of
the gold coin, an Act has passed making it treason to coin silver? But
has it stopped the coining of silver? On the contrary, do not you hear
of it more than ever? It seems as if the law and the crime bore the same
date. I do not know what the hon. member thinks who brought in the bill;
but perhaps some feelings may come across his own mind when he sees how
many lives he is taking away for no purpose. Had it been fairly stated
and specifically pointed out what the mischief in coining silver in the
utmost extent is, that hanging bill might not have been so readily
adopted: under the name of treason it found an easy passage. I, indeed,
have always understood treason to be nothing less than some act or
conspiracy against the life or honour of the king and the safety of the
state; but what the king or state can suffer by my taking now and then a
bad sixpence or a bad shilling I cannot imagine. By this nickname of
treason, however, there lies at this moment in Newgate, under sentence
to be burnt alive, a girl just turned of fourteen. At her master’s
bidding she hid some whitewashed farthings behind her stays; on which
the jury found her guilty as an accomplice with her master in the
treason. The master was hanged last Wednesday, and the fagots all lay
ready—no reprieve came till just as the cart was setting out—and the
girl would have been burnt alive on the same day had it not been for the
humane but casual interference of Lord Weymouth. Good God! Sir, are we
taught to execrate the fires at Smithfield, and are we lighting them now
to burn a poor harmless child for hiding a whitewashed farthing? And yet
this barbarous sentence, which ought to make men shudder at the thought
of shedding blood for such trivial causes, is brought as a reason for
more hanging and burning. It was recommended to me not many days ago to
bring in a bill to make it treason to coin copper as well as gold and
silver. Yet in the formation of these sanguinary laws humanity, religion
and policy are thrown out of the question. This one wise argument is
always sufficient. If you hang for one fault, why not for another? If
for stealing a sheep, why not a cow or a horse; if for a shilling, why
not for a handkerchief worth eighteen pence; and so on? We therefore
ought to oppose the increase of these new laws; the more, because every
fresh one begets twenty others.
“When a member of Parliament brings in a new hanging law, he begins with
mentioning some injury that may be done to private property, for which a
man is not yet liable to be hanged, and then proposes the gallows as the
specific infallible means of cure and prevention; but the bill in its
progress often makes crimes capital that scarce deserve whipping. For
instance, the shoplifting act was to prevent bankers and silversmiths,
and other shops where there are commonly goods of great value, from
being robbed; but it goes so far as to make it death to lift anything
off a counter with an intent to steal. Under this act, Mary Jones was
executed, whose case I shall just mention. It was at the time when press
warrants were issued on the alarm about Falkland’s Islands. The woman’s
husband was pressed, their goods seized for some debts of his, and she,
with two small children, turned into the streets a-begging. ’Tis a
circumstance not to be forgotten that she was very young (under
nineteen), and most remarkably handsome. She went to a linendraper’s
shop, took some coarse linen off the counter, and slipped it under her
cloak; the shopman saw her, and she laid it down. For this she was
hanged. Her defence was (I have the trial in my pocket), ‘That she had
lived in credit, and wanted for nothing, till a press-gang came and
stole her husband from her; but, since then, she had no bed to lie on,
nothing to give her children to eat, and they were almost naked; and
perhaps she might have done something wrong, for she hardly knew what
she did.’ The parish officers testified the truth of this story; but it
seems there had been a good deal of shoplifting about Ludgate; an
example was thought necessary, and this woman was hanged for the comfort
and satisfaction of some shopkeepers in Ludgate Street. When brought to
receive sentence, she behaved in such a frantic manner, as proved her
mind to be in a distracted and desponding state; and the child was
sucking at her breast when she set out for Tyburn.
“Let us reflect a little on this woman’s fate. The poet says:—
“‘An honest man’s the noblest work of God.’