Transcribed from the 1813 J. Cook edition by David Price, email
ccx074@pglaf.org
[Picture: Public domain book cover]
THE
PHŒNIX OF SODOM,
OR THE
_Vere Street Coterie_.
* * * * *
BEING AN EXHIBITION
OF THE
GAMBOLS PRACTISED
BY THE
Ancient Lechers
OF
_Sodom and Gomorrah_,
EMBELLISHED AND IMPROVED WITH THE
MODERN REFINEMENTS
IN
Sodomitical Practices,
BY THE MEMBERS OF THE
_Vere Street Coterie_, _of detestable memory_.
* * * * *
SOLD BY J. COOK, AT
AND TO BE HAD OF ALL THE BOOKSELLERS.
1813.
HOLLOWAY, PRINTER, ARTILLERY LANE, TOOLEY STREET.
* * * * *
THE
VERE STREET COTERIE,
OR
_The Phœnix of Sodom_.
I THINK it a duty I owe both the reader and myself, to account for my
acquaintance with any part of the disgraceful transactions disclosed in
the annexed pages.
Some months ago, when I was contemplating the most odious characters on
the list of Attorneys, to compose the Fifth Number of my Strictures on
the Practice of those voracious vultures, it came to my knowledge that an
Attorney named Wooley (with that alacrity with which crows fly to
carrion) had repaired to the different prisons, where those wretches
apprehended in Vere Street were committed, and, under pretence of
assisting the offenders obtaining their liberty, and enabling them to
escape justice, stripped them of every guinea they possessed, and,
indeed, of every article that would produce one at a pawnbroker’s. I
therefore sent to Newgate, to learn from Cook, the landlord of the house,
whether my information was correct; who sent his wife to me, and related
a long history of the means and fallacious pretences by which he obtained
above thirty pounds from her, for the purpose of _bringing her husband
through_; that being the phrase of those fellows, who hang about prisons,
to tutor their new clients:—(_I have made use of the expression_ TUTOR,
_because there are degrees of iniquity_, _that the most atrocious
offenders accustomed to a long residence in the cells of Newgate have yet
to learn of a certain description of attorneys_;) in fine, after he had
exhausted every stratagem that his colleague the devil and himself could
devise to get money, and finding no more could be extracted from
nakedness, he became wholly negligent of his client; and in order to get
rid of Cook’s importunities, told him he must have fifty pounds more, or
he could not get him liberated. On the woman prostrating (as the truth
was) that almost every article of wearing apparel had been disposed of to
raise the money he already had received, he very friendly suggested to
her, that a woman of her appearance might easily raise money _by putting
off One Pound Bank Notes that he could procure for her at Ten Shillings
each_! the woman could answer only with a groan—“I am in trouble enough
already!” and declined the mode he proposed, to procure liberty for her
husband, and a halter for herself!—Here the material part of the
negociation ended, and Cook was left by this virtuous one, et cetera,
without the least assistance at his trial, not even a guinea for council,
or the expence of a single sheet of paper. In this dreadful situation, I
call it a dreadful situation, for whatever crimes a man be charged with,
he is certainly entitled to the benefit of a defence; especially when he
paid so amply for it: and though ultimately he was convicted, and
sentenced to the Pillory, I would ask, if, under all these circumstances,
his virtuous attorney ought not to have been sentenced to a
gibbet?—However, it does not appear to me, that had Wooley done all that
he was able, he could have saved Cook from his fate; for affidavit men
could be of no service: however, as in my next Number of Strictures I
have a very long chapter to bestow on the sympathetic feelings, and
matchless integrity of this man, in an hundred other instances equally
enormous; I shall for the present drop the subject, having afforded my
readers a trifling shred, or splinter, of his great stock of virtue.
It will be necessary here to correct a false opinion that is gone abroad
respecting the nature of Cook’s offence.—It is generally believed, that
he was convicted of Sodomy: but the fact is, that he was neither
convicted, or even indicted for that offence, but for keeping a house of
resort, or rendezvous for such detestable wretches to meet at.—I have
thought it proper, nay just, to make this distinction, to lessen in some
measure the horror that the public in general have felt against him.
My original inquiry into the conduct of Wooley was, merely to punish him
for his shameful conduct as an Attorney, by making an application to the
Court of King’s Bench for restoration of the money he robbed Cook of; and
to shew the Court and public of what pernicious materials some attorneys
are composed:—therefore, if Wooley thinks it any degradation to be
acquainted with Cook, he must remember, it was his own infamy that
brought it on; and I shall never be ashamed to advocate the cause of the
oppressed, or terrified at the task of reprobating the oppressor. It has
been observed by an elegant writer, that “the man who allows the
oppression shares the crime;” and I certainly shall shew that Cook has
endured a scene of oppression that the laws of this country never did,
and I never will sanction, for the purpose of screening opulent infamy;
the crime of the man is no justification of the brutality with which he
was treated—a brutality repugnant to the feelings of every man possessing
the generous bravery of Englishmen, who are ever merciful. Cowards only
are cruel; and the man who would put a rat to death by wanton torture is
at best but an eminent ruffian! but more upon this subject when I have
gone through the offensive part of my task, which is some slender
description of the enormities committed in various parts of the town by
these Sodomitical miscreants.
Cook and his wife, elate with the prospect of procuring justice for the
injury they had received from Wooley, considered me their friend, and
disclosed all the circumstances that follow; and in answer to some
inquiries that curiosity led me to make, I received a long written
history of iniquities (which I shall partially relate) prefaced by the
following paragraph.
“I do not plead any thing in extenuation of the offence for which I have
been convicted and punished; I confess I merited all I met with; I own I
participated in all the guilt except the final completion of it, which is
abhorrent to my nature. I am, therefore, the more criminal, because I
had no unnatural inclinations to gratify:—I was prompt by _Avarice_ only,
and not by the indulgence of vicious propensities;—if I had, there would
be witnesses enough against me, among the detestable crew I am about to
expose.”
Cook, though an illiterate, man, possesses a strong mind, and an accurate
memory. He states, that he unfortunately met a man named Yardley, at the
King’s Arms, Round Court, in the Strand, who proposed taking a Public
House, and making it a joint concern: he, by degrees, opened to Cook his
plan, and told him he was acquainted with a great number of gentlemen,
some hundreds, who would frequent a house that he kept; and who were so
generous in payment, that he knew a man who kept a house of the same
kind, who, in three years, got money enough to live upon and retired.
This picture of advantage caught Cook;—and he closed with the proposals,
having about one hundred and fifty pounds in his pocket; and, in
conjunction with this man, took the Swan in Vere-street, the fatal house
in question; which was entered upon, and furnished in a style most
appropriate for the purposes it was intended. Four beds were provided in
one room:—another was fitted up for a ladies’ dressing-room, with a
toilette, and every appendage of rouge, &c. &c.:—a third room was called
the Chaple, where marriages took place, sometimes between _a female
grenadier_, six feet high, and a petit maitre not more than half the
altitude of his beloved wife! These marriages were solemnized with all
the mockery of _bride maids_ and _bride men_; and the nuptials were
frequently consumated by two, three, or four couple, in the same room,
and in the sight of each other! incredible as this circumstance may
appear, the reader may depend it is all provable:—the upper part of the
house was appropriated to wretches who were constantly in waiting for
casual customers; who practised all the allurements that are found in a
brothel, by the more natural description of prostitutes; and the only
difference consisting in that want of decency that subsists between the
most profligate men and depraved women.—Men of rank, and respectable
situations in life, might be seen wallowing either in or on the beds with
wretches of the lowest description: but the perpetration of the
abominable act, however offensive, was infinitely more tolerable than the
shocking conversation that accompanied the perpetration; some of which,
Cook has solemnly declared to me, was so odious, that he could not either
write, or verbally relate. It seems many of these wretches are married;
and frequently, when they are together, make their wives, who they call
_Tommies_, topics of ridicule; and boast of having compelled them to act
parts too shocking to think of;—an instance of which I must relate,
because the history of the country furnished a precedent, that consigned
a Peer of the realm, and his infamous associate, to the gallows: I allude
to Lord Audley’s case, who was convicted of rape and sodomy at one time
with his own wife.—The instance I shall relate was told at Vere-street by
the husband, to many of the wretches, and the partner of his guilt, then
present, who joined in the relation, as if it had been a meritorious
act:—this ill-fated woman had been brought to that pitch of infamy, that
she frequently endured it, as if it was no offence even to modesty! the
dreadful fellow, who is the subject of the narration, is one of three
miscreants living together in the same public office in the city, one of
whom is known by the appellation of _Venus_.
It seems the greater part of these reptiles assume feigned names, though
not very appropriate to their calling in life: for instance, Kitty
Cambric is a Coal Merchant; Miss Selina, a Runner at a Police office;
Black-eyed Leonora, a Drummer; Pretty Harriet, a Butcher; Lady Godina, a
Waiter; the Duchess of Gloucester, a gentleman’s servant; Duchess of
Devonshire, a Blacksmith; and Miss Sweet Lips, a Country Grocer. It is a
generally received opinion, and a very natural one, that the prevalence
of this passion has for its object effeminate delicate beings only: but
this seems to be, by Cook’s account, a mistaken, notion; and the reverse
is so palpable in many instances, that the Fanny Murry, Lucy Cooper, and
Kitty Fisher, are now personified by an athletic _Bargeman_, an
_Herculean Coal-heaver_, and a deaf tyre Smith: the latter of these
monsters has two sons, both very handsome young men, whom he boasts are
full as depraved as himself. These are merely part of the common stock
belonging to the house; but the visitors were more numerous, and, if
possible, more infamous, because more exalted in life: and _these
ladies_, like the ladies of the petticoat order, have their favorite men;
one of whom was White, a drummer of the guards, who, some short time
since, was executed for a crime of the most detestable description with
Hebden an Ensign. White, being an universal favorite, was very deep in
the secrets of the fashionable part of the coterie; of which he made a
most ample confession in writing, immediately previous to his execution;
the truth of which he averred, even to his last moments; but it is
impossible to give it literally, for the person who took it, in the
presence of a magistrate, said that the recital made him so sick he could
not proceed.
It seems that these odious practices are not confined to one, two, or
three houses, either public or private; for there are many about town:
one in the vicinity of the Strand; one in Blackman-street in the Borough;
one near the Obelisk, St. George’s-fields; one in the neighbourhood of
Bishopsgate-street, kept by a fellow known by the title of the Countess
of Camomile; perhaps the title was derived from his ancient place of
residence!—This wretch was sent to the cold bath of Newgate for two
years, by way of quenching a flame that had been raised by the charms of
an uncomplying boy. The old worn-out catamites are stationed in
different lodgings, and maintained, for the purpose of entrapping
servants out of place, and other distressed characters; and as distress
is the most potent enemy to virtue, they too frequently succeed in the
objects of their employers:—no expence is spared for clothes, public
places, or pocket money, till the ends are obtained. Many of these
breeches-clad bawds have chambers in the different Inns of Court, the
Temple not excepted, where they carry on their practices with greater
security from detection; which is somewhat extraordinary, when we
consider that lawyers are not very partial to any description of monsters
but their own!
There is now a wretch in Newgate, under sentence of three years, for this
abominable crime, and that, too, for the third time!—this lump of
excremental filth (known among the gang by the appellation of _Miss Fox_)
has been a common hack ever since he was twelve years old, and is now
about seven and twenty: it is said that he is at this hour the darling of
a young man of rank, who audaciously introduced him to his family as a
fellow-student at college; and, in one year, squandered seventeen hundred
pounds upon this miscreant.
It is a melancholy consideration that there is not some mode of
restraining this vice, either by castration, or some other cogent
preventative, without waiting for the completion of the offence, which
enacts the penalty of death:—the moment it is discovered that the
purposes of our creation are defeated, and that nature revolts from the
ordinances of GOD, existence is uselessly lavished upon a being, more
unworthy animation than a mandrake. To eradicate this evil, should
Divine Vengeance resist to another fire, let the people of England
devoutly pray, that the flames may extend to the _Brimstonic part of
Attornies_, whose crimes cry equally loud for sulphurous purification.
That the reader may form some idea of the uncontrolable rage of this
dreadful passion, Cook states, that a person in a respectable house in
the city, frequently came to his sink of filth and iniquity, and stayed
several days and nights together; during which time he generally amused
himself with eight, ten, and sometimes a dozen different boys and
men!—There can be no doubt of the truth of this assertion, for an
explanation took place before some of the parties connected with him in
business, when Cook sent to the house for a bill that the wretch owed
him. It is said that this animal is now in a mad-house; which, in my
apprehension, is the natural consequence of transactions which can only
be produced by a temporary insanity.
In contemplating this calamitous vice, a charitable disposition would
lead us to believe that it is the effect of a dreadful malignant malady,
that assumes such an irresistible dominion over the faculties, that
neither religion, philosophy, or the fear of death, can resist. Before I
could give credit to a twentieth part of the account transmitted to me, I
waited till Cook was discharged from his imprisonment, and then
interrogated him, with all the art and force of reason that I was master
of, as to the truth of his relation, more especially the identity of the
persons whose names he mentioned; stating to him, that even an
insinuation of so foul an imputation against an innocent man, would
inevitably consign him to an infinitely worse punishment than that he had
already suffered: but his answers were such, as left me no excuse to
doubt the truth; and notwithstanding my full conviction upon the subject,
I have not ventured to fasten the odium upon any respectable character,
leaving a disclosure of that nature to be extorted from the parties
themselves in a Court of Justice:—nor would I have sullied the idea of
manhood with this history of human depravity upon the bare assertion of
any man, or any ten men, who were within the possibility of being induced
by some purpose to fabricate such an abominable story; but the statement
of Cook cannot be subject to any such misrepresentation, for it is matter
of record:—thirty of the parties he describes to be the constant
frequenters of the house were apprehended by the Police officers, and
that on a Sunday evening; they were all examined by the Magistrates, and
their guilt established, though in different degrees: and the dreadful
shocking consequences of their conviction ended in the execution of a
sentence so disgraceful to humanity, so contrary to the punishment
awarded by the laws of England, that the foulest page in the history of
savage ferocity must blush at the relation of that ruffianly scene of
human degradation; a scene that never could have disgraced the streets of
London but in the Sheriffalty of Mr. Matthew Wood; and never can happen
again, until Sheriffs and Pillories are made of the same materials.
Cook, under an idea that it would procure him a remission of the pillory,
was desirous of disclosing the names of a great number of persons
involved in the transactions: and a meeting took place, at the Secretary
of State’s Office, upon the subject; but which produced no other effect,
than an order to put Cook in the Pillory the next day, which was
accordingly done; and, upon his return to Newgate, Suter, the head
turnkey, said to him, “_Cook_, _it was not intended you should have come
back alive_!”—There can be no doubt but that the Turnkey’s apprehensions
were well founded.
It seems that Alderman Plomer, one of the Sheriffs who succeeded Messrs.
Atkins and Wood, heard of the attempt made at the Secretary of States;
and wishing to be satisfied of these facts, went to Cook in Newgate
several times, and had him into the keeper’s parlour, where he conversed
with him on the subject;—and on receiving a list of the names the Sheriff
assured him that he had no hope of any remission of his sentence
whatever, for he had offended persons too powerful to contend with; but
that at the expiration of his imprisonment he would endeavour to do
something for him; and befriend him;—but the Sheriff died before Cook’s
time was out. Whatever my own opinion may be respecting the situation in
life of the parties who opposed the remission of the sentence, or however
well founded that opinion may be, I do not think myself safe in giving it
publicity: I shall, therefore, only observe that it is an illustration of
the old trite saying, _the truth is not at all times to be spoken_, nor
indeed _in all places_!
Having stated sufficient to lay the foundation of an inquiry in a Court
of Justice into the truth of Cook’s relation, I shall in this place only
ask a few questions of the parties implicated; and that, too, without
raising a pretence to prate about libels: in doing which it may be
sufficient only to enlarge upon a sagacious and judicious remark of a
worthy Magistrate, viz. How came a man of fortune and fashion to such a
house?—I, therefore, shall repeat the question—What possible business
could a man of rank, or respectable merchant, or clergyman, or any other
man in the character of a gentleman, have, or what reasonable excuse can
he make, for such frequent attendance at a low, dirty public house, in
the filthy avenues of Clare Market—the common and exclusive resort of the
persons I have described: and that, too, on a Sunday, which was the
general, and grand day of rendezvous! and to render their excuse the more
entangled and doubtful, some of the parties came a great distance, even
so much as thirty miles, to join the festivity and elegant amusements of
grenadiers, footmen, waiters, drummers, and all the Catamite brood,
kneaded into human shape, _from the sweepings of Sodom_, _with the spawn
of Gomorrah_.
It may naturally be supposed that this vice is more expensive than any
other, and is the vortex that engulphs the property of men, whose
acquaintance are astonished at the mode of their getting rid of their
fortunes. I remember a man, who had a place of great emolument, a
considerable sum of ready money, and thirty thousand pounds, the fortune
of an ill-fated woman whom he married; all of which vanished, without a
trace of its destination;—he was reduced to the necessity of continually
raising small sums by the most unworthy means: but I am now satisfied of
the means by which he squandered away his property.—I think he is dead,
as I observe another gentleman filling his situation; his memory and his
crimes shall never be disturbed by me: and there cannot be any doubt but
that many men under the same circumstances are brought to beggary by
similar pursuits.
The reader will recollect that I declared myself an advocate for the
oppressed of every description; a declaration I shall elucidate in the
close of these pages, and which will be found to originate in Cook’s
anxiety to expose the parties implicated in the atrocious scenes related:
and it must be lamented, that in this instance, as in all others where
indigence has to combat with wealth, this man has raised a host of
powerful enemies; for there is scarcely any description of men, but some
individual is comprehended in the associates of this vice; even men in
the sacerdotal garb have descended from the pulpit to the gully-hole of
breathing infamy in Vere-street, and other places for similar vice: but I
must spare myself and my readers the ungracious task of pursuing, in
detail, circumstances that almost chill the blood to think of, and
afflict me with the same sensation that a crimping knife on my side would
create.—I will therefore briefly consider the origin and progress of this
crime, which is so detestable, that the law of England blushes to name
it; and in all legal process, treats it as a crime not fit to be named
among Christians; a silence, which is also preserved by the edict of
Constantius, and others. Indeed, the express law of GOD dooms the
offender to death; and of the verity of this Divine declaration we have a
signal instance, long before the Jewish dispensation, by the destruction
of two cities by fire from heaven, so that this is a universal, and not a
provincial or local precept; and our ancient laws seem implicitly to have
followed this divine decree, by commanding such miscreants to be burnt to
death; though Fleta says they should be buried alive:—both these
punishments were inflicted by the ancient Goths.
Reading a foreign history, the locality of which I do not remember, I
found the description of another punishment, called the _Embrace_;—which
put an end to the criminal’s existence, by a machine constructed in the
form of a beautiful woman, and so contrived, that the miserable victim
was pressed to death by being folded in her arms. This crime, however
detestable, has certainly spread itself, and tainted the whole face of
the creation; and it is an erroneous notion entertained by the people of
this country, that it is tolerated in Italy, and some parts of the
continent; for the laws against it are pretty general in every country,
though, perhaps, like ours, they relax in the necessary severity.
The Arabs, indeed, make very light of the offence, especially when
committed with a beast; the Mahometans, also, are much addicted to the
crime, (at least by the testimony of some travellers); yet I cannot see
how that agrees with the account they give of the Upas tree of Java,
which they affirm sprung up as a punishment for that sin; as appears by
the following passage in the new Alcoran.
“The country round the tree was inhabited by people strongly addicted to
the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah; when the great Prophet, Mahomet,
determined not to suffer them to lead such detestable lives any longer,
he applied to GOD to punish them; whereupon GOD caused this tree to grow
out of the earth, which, destroyed them all, and rendered the country for
ever uninhabitable.”
From the best authority that can be gathered, this crime was first
introduced into England about the year 1315, by a sect of heretics called
Lollards; whose intent it was, among other most damnable doctrines to
subvert the Christian faith; for from a note on the Parliamentary Rolls
it is said, “_A Lollard has committed the sin not to be named among
Christians_,” which seems to be the first authentic account of it in
England. Many years previous to the reign of Geo. I. the sin was
permitted without any exemplary punishment:—but about the 12th year of
that reign a number of those wretches were apprehended, and convicted of
the most abominable practices, some of whom were put to death; which gave
a check to the evil for some time.
We will now come to the prevalency of the crime in the present age.
About five and twenty years ago, there existed a society of the same
order with the Vere-street gang, in the City of Exeter, most of whom were
men of rank and local situation; they were apprehended, and about fifteen
of them tried; and, though they were acquitted by the letter of the law,
the enraged multitude was so convinced of their guilt; that without any
respect to their rank, they burnt them in effigy.
About the same period, another disgraceful scene was exhibited in London,
at Clement’s-lane, near the new Church in the Strand; (the exhibition of
that crew is in the memory of many persons who may read these pages;)
this scene was, if possible, more ridiculously wicked; for though it
embraced all the turpitude of the Vere-street Coterie, yet the public
indignation was in some measure for a moment allayed, by the grotesque
appearance of the actors:—they were seized in the very act of giving
caudle to _their lying-in women_, and the new-born infants personated by
large dolls! and so well did they perform the characters they assumed,
that, one miscreant escaped the vigilance of the officers and the
examining magistrates, and was discharged as a woman!
I cannot pass this description of _ladies_, without making mention of
another, usually entitled to an external tribute due to delicacy; for it
seems that one, of no inconsiderable consequence to the dignity of the
Coterie, is, by profession, a Chimney Sweeper and Nightman, an employment
not ill appropriate to the delicate passions which constitute his
amusement. This lump of diabolism resides west of Hyde-park corner; and
some time ago married a little Catamite, called Miss Read, according to
the rites of the Vere-street church; and, of course, did that which all
good husbands will do, took his precious spouse to live in the house with
him, the better to secure himself from the effects of cuckoldom: but it
so happened, that this _sweet-scented enamorata_ has a wife,
unfortunately for the poor woman recognized by the Canons of the Church
of England; and, therefore, to pave the way for this little dung-hill,
Venus, he was introduced as a young man who wished to board and lodge in
a decent family; and three guineas per week was the stipulated price,
which the poor deluded woman thought an acquisition to her family, and
worthy her attention; little dreaming that this knight of the gully-hole
regularly gave _Miss Read_ the money every week, in order that he might
be considered as an honorable and punctual pay master! This miscreant is
said to be worth several thousand pounds!—Now reader, put the money out
of the question, and say what is he worth without it?
I have before observed, this short Treatise is not meant for anything
like a detailed description of an hundredth part of the vast geography of
this moral-blasting evil; but the time is near at hand that will afford a
most ample display of this wide-spreading contagion;—which, dreadful and
poisonous as the whole is to the ear of manhood, there is one feature
more excruciating to my feelings than all the rest; and that is, the
situation of women who are subject to all the indiscribable tortures
inflicted upon them, by an unfortunate, ill-fated marriage with beings of
this description, whose object in marrying is wholly the property they
possess:—that a fine, elegant, perhaps beautiful woman, should be doomed
to have her bed encumbered with a wretch, who loathes her person,
squanders her fortune, and treats her with criminal contempt, to indulge
damnable propensities, with (if I may be allowed the metaphor) the
_scavengers of Sodom_! And yet the laws of the country afford her no
redress, the abomination is no cause of divorce; yet if, on her part, she
should listen to the voice of nature, and presume to convince the world
that she feels the poignancy of her misery, and flies to the arms of a
man who knows how to estimate her worth, the law, like a bull-dog, seizes
on her indiscretion, and she is deemed unworthy the association of the
virtuous part of sex! and doomed to pine out her life in the most
aggravated species of celibacy. I must beg leave to illustrate this
circumstance by an instance which occurred about six years ago.
One of these horrid wretches got hold of a fine handsome boy, whom he met
with in the Park; and took him to various houses, several times, for the
most abominable purposes. The lad had the curiosity to watch him home;
and having called many times without seeing him, the wife was induced to
ask his business with her husband? when this young student in the cursed
science told her, not only what his business then was, but what had
already panned between them.—The woman, struck with horror, grief, and
amazement, retired to her room, and was a corpse in an hour!
It has been observed by a learned Judge, that the proof of this crime
ought to be the more clear, as it is the more detestable; that it ought
to be strictly and impartially proved, and then as strictly and
impartially punished. It is an offence, like that of rape, easily
charged, but very difficult to be disproved;—the accusation should,
therefore, be clearly and incontestibly made out; for if false, it
deserves a punishment inferior only to that of the crime itself: and Sir
M. Hale relates two very extraordinary cases of malicious prosecutions
for rape, that happened within his own observation, and concludes thus;
“I mention these instances, that we may be more cautious upon trials of
offences of this nature, wherein the court and jury may with so much ease
be imposed upon, without great care and vigilance; the heinousness of the
offence many times transporting the judge and jury with so much
indignation, that they are over-hastily carried to the conviction of the
person accused thereof, by the confident testimony of sometimes false and
malicious witnesses.”
I am led to the adoption of these observations of the learned Judge, by a
perusal of the evidence given at the Old Bailey on the trial of Hepburn
and White, before mentioned.—With respect to the abominable practices
which several others were convicted of, there can be no doubt but that
Hepburn and White participated in the extent of their guilt; but I am by
no means satisfied with the proof of the _capital part_ for which they
suffered, upon the evidence of James Mann, a Drummer, who himself was a
_particeps crimines_: the notoriety of these wretches’ propensities in
many other instances, perhaps, paved the way for the more ready admission
of the witnesses testimony; but if that evidence had been stripped of the
auxiliary accusations, it would most certainly have been received with a
doubt sufficiently cogent to have acquitted them:—there are some
inconsistencies in the evidence, and some cause for malignant motives in
giving it; however, I have merely observed upon this case that no degree
of abhorrence attached to the crime ought to interfere with the cool
judgment of a jury;—who, I dare say, were satisfied with their verdict:
but we have had so many instances of capital punishments resulting from
uncontrolable indignation, created by the heinousness of offences, that
in my mind the conviction of men charged with atrocious crimes, does not
always arise from the inevitable proofs of their guilt. In this place it
may be necessary to make a few observations upon the cases of several
persons who have suffered death, transportation, and other punishments,
upon accusations of extorting, or attempting to extort, money, under a
threat of accusing the parties of Sodomitical practices; and as some have
suffered death within these few years, upon convictions of this nature, I
enquired of Cook, if he knew, or ever heard of any attack of that kind
having been made upon innocent men? when he informed me, that the
prosecutors he had heard of, so far from being innocent men, were all
notorious Sodomites, of the worst description; and that he has known many
instances of men being convicted for attempting to extort money under
such threats, where the prosecutor has allowed the party an income
sufficient to indulge them with every comfort during their
confinement:—that one man is now in Newgate, who was sentenced to two
years imprisonment, whose prosecutor regularly paid him a Guinea per week
during the whole time! for it seems these wretches care not what it costs
to convict, as, in their idea, it clears their character.
I have a letter now before me, from a miserable creature in Newgate,
sentenced to transportation, whose story is briefly this:—
A gentleman, with whom he lived servant, discharged him without paying
him his wages; upon which he wrote to his master, saying that if he did
not pay him, he would go to Marlborough-street, the next day, and state
his Sodomitical practices; upon which, the gentleman went himself to the
office, and obtained a warrant, under the pretext of the man having
threatened to charge him with Sodomy unless he gave him money:—he found
means to convict the poor fellow, who had two witnesses, who would have
proved the truth of his assertion; but they were kept out of the way by
the master until the trial was over:—one of whom has since been with him
in Newgate, and told him his master gave him _five pounds to keep out of
the way_!
A variety of similar convictions have taken place; for these fashionable
miscreants must wipe off the imputation, no matter by what means. In
fine, it seems to have come to this, _that if a young man will not submit
to Sodomy and hold his tongue_, _he must be hanged_.
I will now relate some remarkable instances that have come to my
knowledge, some of them professionally. About thirty years ago, a
handsome young man, named Donelly, an attorney’s clerk, was cursed with
the importunities of the son of a noble earl, and from whom he received
several sums of money; but his demands became too rapid for this sprig of
nobility, who, from incapacity to answer them, was obliged to desist.
Donelly, one evening, in Berkeley-square, met the elder brother, then
Lord —, and mistaking him (from the great likeness) for his little
paramour, addressed him in terms that induced the young nobleman to seize
him, and take him before a magistrate:—he was capitally convicted, and
ordered for execution. Under all these circumstances, he wrote to the
noble Earl, the father, who instituted an inquiry into his son’s conduct;
which caused the Earl immediately to apply to his Majesty for a free
pardon for Donelly, which the Ordinary of Newgate communicated to him in
the chapel, the Sunday previous to his intended execution.
Another case, something similar, occurred about the year 1781. The late
Felix Macarty, of no slender notoriety, was attacked by the son of a
noble Lord of the County of Surrey, on the staircase leading to the great
room at the Royal Academy. Macarty, Irishman-like, did not much approve
of any caresses connected with breeches; and was no way solicitous of
keeping the affair secret: of course, the transaction made some noise.
The prejudice against an Irish adventurer, as Macarty was termed, gave
the transaction an interpretation that conveyed an idea that his
intention was to extort money from the nobleman: however, a serious
investigation took place with the father and neighbouring gentlemen, of
whom Sir Francis Vincent of Stoke was one; when the young gentleman
confessed the truth of Macarty’s charge, and was thereupon sent
abroad;—Macarty had five hundred guineas given him, as a remuneration for
what he suffered in his character. I had the particulars of this case
from Sir Francis Vincent, who was, at that time, my client.
But I will close the gainful subject of enormous convictions, calculated
to screen Sodomites, with a case fabricated only by the premier fiend of
hell.
It is somewhat about the same period, that I was with Sir William
Aldington, at Bow-street, about some business; when a gentleman of great
worth (if such a wretch can be said to have any worth) was brought into
the office by a soldier, named Cope, and changed with attacking him, with
an intent to commit an unnatural crime. He stated, that the preceding
evening, about half past eleven o’clock, he was stationed in the Park,
under the wall of Marlborough-gardens; when this gentleman came up to
him, and after some conversation, attempted to put his hand in his
breeches; he thereupon seized him, pushed him into his box, and kept him
there till the relief guard came;—that the gentleman did every thing he
could to persuade him to let him go; he offered him his watch, and purse,
containing seven or eight guineas, which he refused, and marched him down
to the guard-room. This was the charge; now, intelligent reader, mark
the defence!
On the magistrate’s asking the gentleman (who, to the disgrace of the
profession, was an eminent Conveyancer) what could bring him into the
Park at that hour, and in the most inclement evening that was ever
felt?—he answered, that he was obliged to go to Buckingham-house to see a
lady, from whom he wanted some information respecting the subject of a
letter he was writing, and which he could not finish until he had
procured it.
Sir William Addington,
“You could not have been admitted into Buckingham-house at that time of
night, especially for the purpose of visiting a lady!—have you that
letter about! you?”
To which he replied he had only just begun it.
Sir William Addington.—“Then, Sir, send for it in the state you left it.”
The answer was, ‘I do not recollect where I put it.’
Sir W. A.—“But after you had quitted Buckingham-house, admitting you had
been there, how came you in that part of the Park where this soldier was
stationed?”
‘I intended to have gone through the stable yard, but having missed it, I
thought of going out at the Priory-gate.’
Sir W. A.—“Then why did you _not_ go out there? for this soldier’s box
was considerably beyond that place!”—
Here a respectable gentleman of the profession came in, and very
judiciously put an end to the examination, by entering into a
recognizance for his client’s appearance: to whom the magistrate
observed, he never heard so clear a case of guilt, even from the
defendant’s own account.
Previous to the ensuing Westminster sessions Cope was sent on the Windsor
duty; whether by collusion, or by the common routine of duty never
transpired, further than strong suspicion upon the case. However, from
either Cause, Cope, if he had possessed the ability of following up his
charge by an indictment, had no opportunity; and, of course, _there_ the
matter of complaint ended. But the dreadful wretch, not content with his
good fortune in escaping the Pillory, in order to cleanse his pestiferous
character, indicted Cope for falsely, maliciously, and diabolically
charging him with an attempt to commit an unnatural crime.—Thunderstruck,
when I heard of the audacious attempt to legalize such an atrocious
offence, I went, in company with Mr. Bond, to hear the trial, if a trial
it could be called:—but, to get rid of the odious and painful relation,
it is only necessary to add, the poor ill-fated fellow was convicted,
upon the testimony of the vile old Sodomite; and, if my memory is
correct, the sentence of the Court was, that he should be confined in
Tothill-fields Bridewell for five years, and stand in the Pillory once
every year during that time. I may not be correct as to the number of
times he stood in the Pillory, but I know it was more than once.
When this phenomenon of a trial was ended, Mr. Bond, the magistrate, and
myself walked out of the court together, who exclaimed—“what do you think
of this conviction?” To which I answered, I think as you do, that the
jury ought to be taken out of the box, and hanged at the hall door.
However, what can be said? but, alas, poor human nature! judges are but
men, and juries subject to fallability! It may be supposed, that the
prosecutor received every assistance that could be had: the late Mr.
Bearcroft appeared, to give him a character: a character for what?—why,
that he paid his debts, and that he would not pick a pocket; _and that he
was never accused of committing a rape_! which seems to be the amount of
character in every case, where a wretch is either prosecutor or defendant
on similar occasions. However, we will now come to the touch-stone,
which will, in a great measure, decide the purity of this old lecher’s
character. It seems the horrid sacrifice made to purify his reputation,
was not, in the opinion of sensible and discerning men, perfectly
satisfactory, whether his penchant for breeches was not paramount to his
affection for petticoats? And even Mr. Bearcroft was not without a
slender portion of scepticism on the subject: for he remarked, in a
company where some doubts were entertained which of the two ought to have
been put in the pillory, Cope, or his prosecutor, “_D—n the fellow_! _now
I think of it_, _I never remember his having a girl at college_!”—But, to
put all doubts at rest, respecting this diabolical wretches’ guilt, it is
only necessary to state, that he retired into the country, and attacked a
farmer’s son; who seized, and took him before a magistrate, when he gave
bail: but, foreseeing that he had a man to deal with who was under no
military command, nor subject to any impediment for want of money, and
too inflexible for any chance of being diverted from his steady purpose
of prosecution, be wisely withdrew himself from England—to which place he
has never returned.
I shall now conclude my observations on these hedious transactions with a
relation of the unexampled oppression that Cook and his wife have been
the objects of. With respect to his wife, she could not have
participated in any transactions of her husband; she did not live in the
odious house, or even visit it; and, therefore, her sufferings are not
warranted by any plea:—and, indeed, whatever the man’s offences might be,
he has most amply purged himself from all the criminal effects of it; and
is surely entitled to the protection of the same law to guard his
innocence, that was exerted to punish his offence. That I may be clearly
understood in what I deem _acts of oppression_, I must state the ground
that gave pretence to the proceedings against him.
The reader will recollect that Cook had been desirous of making a
disclosure of the transactions for which he, and the others were
convicted, with the names and rank in life of a great number of persons
implicated; not only at his own house, but at many others, both private
and public, the common depots of organized Sodomites; and having been
defeated of this intention at the Secretary of State’s office, published
the following Prospectus, in the form of a handbill, and distributed them
among his customers, both noble and ignoble.
_Handbill_.
“Preparing for the Press, and speedily will be published,
“An exhibition of the gambols practised by the ancient lechers of
Sodom and Gomorrah; embellished and improved with the modern
refinements in Sodomitical practices, by the Members of the
Vere-street Coterie of detestable memory.
“The facts in this publication are given and substantiated on oath,
without regard to the rank or situation in life of the several actors
in this diabolical drama. Peers, Footmen, and Foot-soldiers, will be
held up to the indignation of mankind (aye and womankind to) in the
several characters they acted, the hediousness of whose transactions
petrify the reader.
“James Cook, the author of this pamphlet, with shame, confesses that
he was an eye and ear witness to the execrable scenes of iniquity he
relates, and, but for the damning proofs that put to confusion every
attempt at contradiction, he would despair of gaining credit for an
hundredth part of the odious tale he has to unfold. He is now in
Newgate, undergoing a punishment for keeping the rendezvous of the
miscreants; a punishment which ought, in strict justice, to have
fallen to the lot of the characters whose infamy will shortly come
under the cognizance of the public.
“N.B. It is said that the ghost of White, the drummer boy, lately
executed for Sodomy, pays his nocturnal visits to old Moggy, the
rump-rider, Park-street, exclaiming,
“Monster! amidst the din of infernal howl
The fiends in hell will scramble for thy soul.”
The foregoing intimation caused some temporary abatement _of whiskered
dalliance_; and the softer passions gave way to the spirit of revenge:
the first fruits of which was a detainer for twenty-three pounds debt,
lodged against him on the eve of his enlargement, after two year’s
imprisonment, of which he had received a week’s notice:—the attorney who
issued out the writ was applied to, and requested to give it to a
Sheriff’s officer, to whom a sufficient bail-bond should be given,
although the defendant denied owing the money. Such of my readers as are
acquainted with the rules of practice will conclude with me, that the
ends of justice, and the completion of an attorney’s duty would have been
answered by this means; or, at least, any attorney who had not been
_nursed by a Siberian Tartar_, would have thought himself justified by
acceding to the proposition; but it was made to a wretch,
“whose parent was a rock,
And fierce Hercanean tigers gave him birth.”
However, I see by the roll of attorneys, that the gentleman in question
stands alone; and that Providence seems satisfied with the mischief done,
by placing him there _solo_!—In my anxiety to procure food for my next
number of legalized cormorancy, I made some inquiry respecting the
general practice of this virtuous one, _et cetera_:—the answer I received
from one professional gentleman was as satisfactory as laconic: “Did you
ever see him?” I replied in the negative:—then, said he, “his heart is
as ugly as his face; _and that is as ugly as Kit Chrishop’s_!”
Cook’s brother, a poor hard-working man, happened to have about forty
pounds in his possession, a sum devoted to pay for some timber, to carry
on his business as a bedstead-maker; and who, under the agonizing
affliction of a brother in such a predicament, in order to facilitate his
enlargement, deposited the amount of the debt, and ten pounds costs, in
the Sheriff’s office, until the return of the writ, when it was intended
to justify bail, and try the cause. I will now account for Cook’s being
defeated in a remedy provided even by an Act of Parliament.
Being at liberty, and without a shilling to help himself, he had recourse
to several wretches who, in the burning frenzy of their love fits, and to
gratify the appetites of their languishing enamoratas, ordered suppers,
and run into other expences for which they were not provided with the
means of prompt payment, and which they never thought fit to discharge
during his two year’s confinement: he, therefore, called upon some few of
his _equivocal gender customers_, to remind them that the dues arising
out of their gallantries had not been discharged. This led him, in
company with his wife, to the house of a Mr. Stewart, to enquire after
his friend and neighbour Mr. —, a ci-divant Reverend, who, it seems, had
been _unfrocked_ during his probation in Newgate. Upon Cook’s name being
announced, the old hen began clucking, and caused a momentary cessation
of amorous billing with the salacious brood within. Cook, not being able
to get any satisfaction, walked away; but was followed by a champion for
the sacred rights of Sodom, who, at the distance of two streets, came up
to them, seized the woman by the arm, and, after twisting her round,
knocked her down!—My reader will be apt to think that this was beginning
at the wrong end of a manly contest; but it must be remembered that the
woman was the most offensive object of the two; for Cook, having breeches
on, possessed the _possibility_ of a reconciliation; but with a
petticoat, no terms of accommodation could take place: and in this case
the antipathy was widened; for Mrs. Cook is really a good-looking, nay, a
pretty woman. However J. Shenston, whether John or Jane I know not,
received from Cook a knock-down blow in (his) turn; with the token of
which clinging to his nose and month he ran back to Moggy Stewart’s; and,
after a fainting fit or two had been recovered, Shenston assumed his male
character, and posted away to Marlborough-street; where, upon the usual
terms, he obtained a warrant against both Cook and his wife, for a
pretended assault committed upon him.
Reader! as the business becomes a little more serious, I must crave a
little unprejudiced attention. The warrant being executed in the
evening, I undertook to produce the parties next morning, before the
magistrates; they, of course, willingly appeared; when the hardy villain
related the particulars of the assault committed upon him, as if he had
never heard of the crime of perjury, or the punishment annexed to it:
however the two defendants were of course ordered to find bail, which
they did. And now begins a scene of oppression sufficient to make a man
believe that the actors were impatient for their share of pillories and
gibbets. When these two ill-fated people were before the magistrates,
Mr. Baker asked Shenstone what he was?—he replied, a gentleman’s servant
out of place. “How do you get your living?” was the next question. ‘I am
supported by my friends at Birmingham:’ Cook, not chusing to let this
_Birmingham-story_, pass, gave his _town-made_ description in the
following workman-like manner; “_You are maintained by a set of
Sodomites_! _these are your friends that support you_!”—Now, mark how
this business was reported in the public papers:
“Cook, the cidevant keeper of the Swan, in Vere-street, was brought
before the magistrates, for assaulting a respectable tradesman, with an
intent to extort money from him.” The account then stated the names and
places of residence of his bail; and that Cook had been taken to
Queen-square, a few days before, for a similar attempt on a gentleman.
With regard to what passed at Marlborough-street, I have faithfully
stated it; and what passed at Queen-square was simply this, for I was
present. Cook met a gentleman of some consequence over
Westminster-bridge, and used some unpleasing language to him, which
raised a mob: he thereupon threatened to take Cook before a magistrate,
who replied that he would meet him at Queen-square; where they met, and,
upon Cook’s promising not to molest him again, he was discharged. The
reporter, not satisfied with the most shameful perversion of truth, added
a malignant, diabolical note, that _extorting money is a capital
offence_.
I must now bestow a few observations upon the transactions at
Marlborough-street: and, first, with respect to the extortion and
respectability of the prosecutor, who, by his own account, is a
gentleman’s servant out of place—no very promising subject for extortion;
a fellow whom Cook states to be one of the lowest attendants at
Vere-street, for the most depraved purposes;—a fellow that was obliged to
borrow a great coat to appear before the magistrates!!! EXTORTION! from
a wretch living in a back garret, and literally in rags, and whose
breeches, from the superfluous apertures, gave manifestation of rapturous
attacks upon his virtue! and whose finances were so far from satisfying
the demands of _extortion_, that the Constable was obliged to go to one
of his Birmingham friends, for money to defray the trifling expences at
the office.
I have only to observe, on the conduct of the reporter, that there can be
no act of diabolism equal to the mischief originating in the ignorance,
falshood, or that species of low bribed calumny, that is to be procured
from the necessities of a fellow, who would libel the fairest character
in the nation, for a beef-steak and pot of porter: and it is astonishing,
that magistrates will suffer such vermin to infest the office:—at best,
these hireling reporters are not to be depended upon; and the experience
of half a century enables me to aver that I do not remember half a score
correct reports, even of what passed in the courts at Westminster. Nor
does the mischief close here: for the supplementary part of the atrocity
is equally dreadful; which consists in the conductors of the Papers
almost constantly refusing to correct their own errors, or censuring the
conduct of such pernicious scribblers.
The consequence attending the statement of which I am complaining has
been incalculable—for Cook’s poor brother, who is a man of unblemished
character, is totally ruined—no one will employ him. Degraded in the
estimation of his neighbours, his few creditors came upon him; his
landlord gave him warning to quit his house. Such have been the effects
of a poison, disseminated in a manner that has admitted of no antidote.
A similar fate, also, attended the other bail:—Mrs. Cook turned out of
her lodging at an hour’s notice, and her necessaries stopped until she
had paid rent for a certain time she could not inhabit.
I think I shall be pardoned if I pause for a moment, and ask the candid
and liberal reader whether the Reporter of such unprincipled and
profligate falshoods is not entitled to some, and what reward? Slitting
his nose! cutting off his ears—or, exalting him to a situation, where he
may receive the kindred filth of his own pestiferous principles. I am a
friend to the liberty of the press in its fullest extent; and have given
many convincing proofs of it: but I am not so incorrigible an offender
against the law of libels, as to deny my title to a gibbet, had I been
the author of so vile, so miscreantic, and so reptilized a calumny!
The reader will recollect that Cook had deposited the money he was
detained for, under what I call a stupid, useless Act of Parliament,
calculated for no possible convenience for a defendant; who could,
without the aid of this idiotic act, always deposit the debt and costs
with a Sheriff’s-officer until he gave a bail-bond: but, under this Act,
the debt is directed to be paid into Court, with ten pounds costs; and
when the defendant has justified bail, he must be at the expence of a
motion, to get the money restored: but here, this miserable defendant was
denied the benefit of that Act, or, indeed, any existing law whatever.
But it is some consolation to say, that he is the only man in the kingdom
that is to be told, that neither law, justice, or humanity dare approach
him:—for he has been denied the right of submitting his case to a Jury,
whether he owed the money or not. The ten pounds costs having been
deposited with the debt, the plaintiff’s attorney has laid his hands upon
the whole, and the cause ended by a legalized robbery: for the infamous
statement in the newspaper, before mentioned, has shut out the
possibility of bailing the action and trying it.
Nor can the reptilized attorney, Wooley, who robbed them under pretext of
defending them, as stated in the beginning of this treatise hope for a
protraction of his iniquities longer than the ensuing term, when I shall
apply to the Court of King’s Bench, to appoint Cook an Attorney; and I
beg the candid reader will believe, when I assert that I have used great
economy in the expenditure of the vast sum of Wooley’s iniquity, which
the premier fiend of hell would tremble to count over: but perhaps the
hour is at no great distance, when I shall be more profuse in the
description of these person’s sufferings, and oppression; when I
undertake the task of identifying the men with the crimes, and the crimes
with the men.
In fine, the poor beggared brother has lost the money, without a
possibility of a remedy: and, as a proof that Cook, wretched as his
situation is at this day, was not, and is not, without the good opinion
of many respectable men, an eminent tradesman, as any in the city of
Westminster, offered to indemnify bail to any amount for him, or bail
him, if he could do it without becoming subject to Newspaper calumny.
Immediately after bailing the assault, Cook was arrested the second time,
and taken to a lock-up house (for the same malignant fate pursued him, to
the exclusion of all possibility of bailing him) where he remained until
a habeas could be sued out; upon which he was taken to the Fleet-prison,
destitute of the means of procuring a supper or a bed, and subject to the
ruffianly insults of the unfeeling and uniformed part of the
prisoners.—About three days after he was committed to the Fleet, the
Sessions, for Middlesex commenced, when he and his wife were both
indicted for the pretended assault.
Cook being in the Fleet, I procured bail for the wife only; O say
_procured_—for, during forty years’ practice I never before, in any one
instance, hired bail: and, upon her being liberated, the magistrate, of
course, granted a supersedeas to the warrant. Yet, astonishing as it may
appear, at least to every professional man, this ill-fated woman was
seized on the Saturday-night following, as she was going into the Fleet
to her husband, by a ruffianly fellow named Creswell, a city constable;
and a companion, disdaining to be behind-hand with his master in
brutality; who took her to the Poultry Compter, where she was kept until
Monday in the most shocking of all situations, among felons and
prostitutes of the most abandoned description.
That those who were _paid_ for this outrage should not regard the
supersedeas does not astonish me; but that the keeper of the compter
should set a legal instrument at defiance, that strictly forbade him to
molest or imprison the defendant, I do confess, staggers every conjecture
I have been able to make upon the subject:—I hope his conduct proceeded
from sheer ignorance, and I have some reason to think it did. However,
determined not to desert these unhappy people in any extremity, I
attended the Alderman at Guildhall, who very judiciously told this Mr.
Constable Creswell he could not take notice of any thing but the
supersedeas; and, of course, the woman was discharged. Notwithstanding
this determination of the Alderman, this same Creswell took her into the
County of Middlesex and delivered her to a constable belonging to
Marlborough-street-office; and, after being wearied and tortured for two
or three hours more, she was again discharged. It seems that at
Marlborough-street (to use a trite phrase) the cat jumped out of the bag!
for there arose a violent contention between Shenstone, the _nominal
prosecutor_, and these _upright_, _assiduous_, _ministers of justice_,
respecting, first, the amount of their wages, and, secondly, who was so
pay them?—which, I am informed, ended in that species of mutual
satisfaction that thieves generally experience, in _dividing the plunder
of an empty purse_!
Another act of outrage was committed by this Creswell against Cook and
his wife, about a fortnight previous to the execution of the warrant in
question; when he apprehended, and took them to the Compter, _without any
warrant at all_! where they were kept for the whole night. In the
morning they went before Sir Matthew Bloxam, with all the marks and
bruises they had received from Creswell over-night: but as the worthy
Alderman will, in all probability, be called upon in a court of Justice,
as a material witness, I shall add no more at present, than that he acted
like himself upon the occasion; and, thinking that Cook had as much right
_to his own watch_ as Creswell, with a severe reprimand compelled him to
return it; {62} at the same time we shall see if Creswell’s indemnity for
all these outrages will shelter him from the wholesome scourge of
criminal justice.
I hope and trust that there is not a lover of genuine liberty, but will
contribute a little to enable these oppressed people to obtain impartial
justice; not only against Constable Creswell, but against _his
employers_, whose abominations can have no reliance upon impunity, but
from the _destruction of Cook_. And here I must repeat Lord
Ellenborough’s assertion, that _although the parties may not be entitled
to respect_, _yet the laws must be respected_! therefore, the same laws
that punish crimes, must protect innocence; and I hope brutal constable
Creswell, and _rapacious lawyer Woolley_, {63} will receive a lesson,
that will inspire them with some small portion of reverence for his
Lordship’s opinion.
The sufferings of Cook and his wife are marked with great aggravation:
for they are sacrificed, not as an atonement for their own crimes, but
that _the crimes of others shall not be atoned for_! and for myself, I
should not be surprised at any act of desperation their wrongs may drive
them to;—for, when injustice is thought no crime, revenge becomes a
virtue.
* * * * *