ever man encountered, I now rise to vindicate my character and defend my
life. I have been supported in this hour of trial, by the knowledge that
my cause is heard before an enlightened tribunal, and that the free
institutions of my country have placed my destiny in the hands of twelve
men, who are uninfluenced by prejudice, and unawed by power. I have been
represented by the press, which carries its benefits or curses on rapid
wings from one extremity of the kingdom to the other, as a man more
depraved, more gratuitously and habitually profligate and cruel, than
has ever appeared in modern times. I have been held up to the world as
the perpetrator of a murder, under circumstances of greater aggravation,
of more cruel and premeditated atrocity, than it ever before fell to the
lot of man to have seen or heard of. I have been held forth to the world
as a depraved, heartless, remorseless, prayerless villain, who had
seduced my friend into a sequestered path, merely in order to despatch
him with the greater security--as a snake who had crept into his bosom
only to strike a sure blow--as a monster, who, after the perpetration of
a deed from which the hardest heart recoils with horror, and at which
humanity stands aghast, washed away the remembrance of my guilt in the
midst of riot and debauchery. You, gentlemen, must have read the
details, which have been daily, I may say, hourly published regarding
me. It would be requiring more than the usual virtue of our nature to
expect that you should entirely divest your minds of those feelings
which such relations must have excited; but I am satisfied, that as far
as it is possible for men to enter into a grave investigation with minds
unbiassed, and judgments unimpaired, after the calumnies with which the
public has been deluged--I say, I am satisfied, that with such minds and
such judgments, you have this day assumed your sacred office. The
horrible guilt which has been attributed to me is such as could not have
resulted from custom, but must have been the innate principle of my
infant mind, and must have 'grown with my growth, and strengthened with
my strength.' But I will call before you gentlemen whose characters are
unimpeachable, and whose testimony must be above suspicion, who will
tell you, that the time was, when my bosom overflowed with all the
kindly feelings; and that even my failings were those of an improvident
generosity, and an unsuspecting friendship. Beware then, gentlemen, of
an anticipated verdict. Do not suffer the reports which you have heard
to influence your judgment. Do not believe that a few short years can
have reversed the course of nature, and converted the good feelings
which I possessed, into that spirit of malignant cruelty, to which only
demons can attain. A kind, affectionate, and a religious mother,
directed the tender steps of my infancy in the paths of piety and
virtue. My rising youth was guided in 'the way that it should go,' by a
father, whose piety was universally known and believed--whose kindness
and charity extended to all who came within the sphere of its influence.
After leaving my paternal roof, I entered into the service of our late
revered monarch, who was justly entitled the 'Father of his people.' You
will learn from some of my honourable companions, that while I served
under his colours, I never tarnished their lustre. The country which is
dear to me I have served; I have fought for her; I have shed my blood
for her; I feared not in the open field to shed the blood of her
declared foes. But oh! to suppose that on that account I was ready to
raise the assassin's arm against my friend, and with that view to draw
him into secret places for his destruction--it is monstrous, horrible,
incredible. I have been represented to you as a man who was given to
gambling, and the constant companion of gamblers. To this accusation, in
some part, my heart with feeling penitence pleads guilty. I have
gambled. I have been a gambler, but not for the last three years. During
that time I have not attended or betted upon a horse-race, or a fight,
or any public exhibition of that nature. If I have erred in these
things, half the nobility of the land have been my examples: some of the
most enlightened statesmen of the country have been my companions in
them. I have indeed been a gambler. I have been an unfortunate one. But
whose fortune have I ruined?--whom undone?--My own family have I ruined,
undone myself! At this moment I feel the distress of my situation. But,
gentlemen, let not this misfortune entice your verdict against me.
Beware of your own feelings, when you are told by the highest
authority, that the heart of a man is deceitful above all things.
Beware, gentlemen, of an anticipated verdict. It is the remark of a very
sage and experienced writer of antiquity, that no man becomes wicked all
at once. And with this, which I earnestly request you to bear in mind, I
proceed to lay before you the whole career of my life. I will not tire
you with tedious repetitions, but I will disclose enough of my past life
to inform your judgments; leaving it to your clemency to supply whatever
little defects you may observe. You will consider my misfortunes, and
the situation in which I stand--the deep anxiety that I must feel--the
object for which I have to strive. You may suppose something of all
this; but oh! no pencil, though dipped in the lines of heaven, can
pourtray my feelings at this crisis. Recollect, I again entreat you, my
situation, and allow something for the workings of a mind little at
ease; and pity and forgive the faults of my address. The conclusion of
the late war, which threw its lustre upon the fortunes of the nation
generally, threw a gloomy shadow over mine. I entered into a mercantile
life with feelings as kind, and with a heart as warm, as I had carried
with me in the service. I took the commercial world as if it had been
governed by the same regulations as the army. I looked upon merchants as
if they had been my mess companions. In the transactions I had with
them, my purse was as open, my heart as warm to answer their demands, as
they had been to my former associates. I need not say that any fortune,
however ample, would have been insufficient to meet such a course of
conduct. I, of course, became the subject of a commission of bankruptcy.
My solicitor, in whom I had foolishly confided as my most particular
friend, I discovered, too late, to have been a traitor--a man who was
foremost in the ranks of my bitterest enemies. But for that man, I
should still have been enabled to regain a station in society, and I
should have yet preserved the esteem of my friends, and, above all, my
own self-respect. But how often is it seen that the avarice of one
creditor destroys the clemency of all the rest, and forever dissipates
the fair prospects of the unfortunate debtor! With the kind assistance
of Mr. Thomas Oliver Springfield, I obtained the signature of all my
creditors to a petition for superseding my bankruptcy. But just then,
when I flattered myself that my ill fortune was about to close--that my
blossoms were ripening--there came "a frost--a nipping frost." My chief
creditor refused to sign, unless he was paid a bonus of 300_l._ upon his
debt beyond all the other creditors. This demand was backed by the man
who was at the time his and my solicitor. I spurned the offer--I
awakened his resentment. I was cast upon the world--my all disposed
of--in the deepest distress. My brother afterwards availed himself of my
misfortune, and entered into business. His warehouses were destroyed by
the accident of a fire, as has been proved by the verdict of a jury on a
trial at which the venerable judge now present presided. But that
accident, unfortunate as it was, has been taken advantage of in order to
insinuate that he was guilty of crime, because his property was
destroyed by it, as will be proved by the verdict of an honest and
upright jury in an action for conspiracy, which will be tried ere long
before the Chief Justice of the King's Bench. A conspiracy that was, but
where? Why, in the acts of the prosecutor himself, Mr. Barber Beaumont,
who was guilty of suborning witnesses, and who will be proved to have
paid for false testimony. Yes; this professed friend of the
aggrieved,--this pretended prosecutor of public abuses,--this
self-appointed supporter of the laws, who panders to rebellion, and has
had the audacity to raise its standard in the front of the royal
palace--this man, who has just head enough to continue crime, but not
heart enough to feel its consequences,--this is the real author of the
conspiracy, which will shortly undergo legal investigation. To these
particulars I have thought it necessary to call your attention, in
language which you may think perhaps too warm--in terms not so measured,
but that they may incur your reproof. But
"The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear,
The blood will follow where the knife is driven."
When, before this, did it ever fall to the lot of any subject to be
borne down by the weight of calumny and obloquy, which now oppresses me.
The press, which ought to be the shield of public liberty, the avenger
of public wrongs--which above all should have exerted itself to preserve
the purity of its favourite institution, the trial by jury--has directed
its whole force to my injury and prejudice: it has heaped slander upon
slander, and whetted the public appetite for slanders more atrocious:
nay more, what in other men would serve to refute and repel the shaft of
calumny, is made to stain with a deeper dye the villanies ascribed to
me. One would have thought, that some time spent in the service of my
country would have entitled me to some favour from the public under a
charge of this nature. But no; in my case the order of things is
changed--nature is reversed. The acts of times long since past have been
made to cast a deeper shadow over the acts attributed to me within the
last few days; and the pursuit of a profession hitherto held honourable
among honourable men has been turned to the advantage of the accusation
against me. You have been told that after the battle, I boasted of my
inhumanity to a vanquished, yielding, wounded enemy--that I made a
wanton sacrifice of my bleeding and supplicating foe, by striking him to
the earth with my cowardly steel; and that after this deed of blood, I
sat down to plunder my unhappy victim: nay more, that, with folly
indescribable and incredible, I boasted of my barbarity as of a victory.
Is there an English officer, is there an English soldier or an
Englishman, whose heart would not have revolted with hatred against such
baseness and folly? Far better, gentlemen, would it have been for me,
rather than have seen this day, to have fallen with my honourable
companions, stemming and opposing the tide of battle upon the field of
my country's glory. Then my father and my family, though they would have
mourned my loss, would have blessed my name, and shame would not have
rolled its burning fires over my memory!--Before I recur to the evidence
brought against my life, I wish to return my most sincere thanks to the
high sheriff and the magistrates for their kindness shown to me. I
cannot but express my unfeigned regret at a slight misunderstanding
which has occurred between the Reverend Mr. Lloyd, the visiting
magistrate, and my solicitor. As it was nothing more than a
misunderstanding, I trust the bonds of friendship are again ratified
between us all. My most particular gratitude is due to the Reverend Mr.
Franklin, whose kind visits and pious consolations have inspired me with
a deeper sense of the awful truths of religion, and have trebly armed my
breast with fortitude to serve me on this day. Though last, not
least--let me not forget Mr. Wilson, the governor of the prison, and the
fatherly treatment which he has shown me throughout. My memory must
perish ere I can forget his kindness. My heart must be cold ere it can
cease to beat with gratitude to him, and wishes for the prosperity of
his family."
The prisoner then proceeded to read first a long written comment on the
weaker parts of the evidence which had been produced against him, and
then a number of instances from the Percy Anecdotes, exhibiting the
fallibility of circumstantial evidence; but either the paper was so
ill-written, or he was so imperfect a reader, that the effect was quite
fatal to the flowery appeal which he had just before delivered to the
jury. After having exhibited the utmost confusion, and stammered and
blundered in a most extraordinary manner, he concluded his address in
the following terms. "And now, gentlemen, having read those cases to
you, am not I justified in saying, that unless you are thoroughly
convinced that the circumstances before you are absolutely inconsistent
with my innocence, I have a claim to your verdict of acquittal? Am I not
justified in saying, that you might come to the conclusion that all the
circumstances stated might be true, and yet I be innocent? I am sure,
gentlemen, you will banish from your minds any prejudice which may have
been excited against me, and act upon the principle that every man is to
be deemed innocent until he is proved guilty. Judge of my case,
gentlemen, with mature consideration, and remember that my existence
depends upon your breath. If you bring in a verdict of guilty, the law
afterwards allows no mercy. If upon a due consideration of all the
circumstances you shall have a doubt, the law orders, and your own
consciences will teach you to give me the benefit of it. Cut me not off
in the summer of my life! I implore you, gentlemen, to give my case your
utmost attention. I ask not so much for myself as for those respectable
parents whose name I bear, and who must suffer in my fate. I ask it for
the sake of that home which will be rendered cheerless and desolate by
my death. Gentlemen, I am incapable of any dishonourable action. Those
who know me best, know that I am utterly incapable of an unjust and
dishonourable action, much less of the horrid crime with which I am now
charged. There is not, I think, one in this court who does not think me
innocent of the charge. If there be, to him or them I say, in the
language of the apostle, 'Would to God ye were altogether such as I am,
save these bonds.' Gentlemen, I have now done. I look with confidence to
your decision. I repose in your hands all that is dear to the gentleman
and the man. I have poured out my heart before you, as to my God. I hope
your verdict this day will be such as you may ever after be able to
think upon with a composed conscience; and that you will reflect upon
the solemn declaration which I now make--I am innocent! so help me God!"
Hunt was next called upon, but his feeble voice and shrinking manner
were strongly contrasted with the overwrought energy which had been
displayed by his fellow-prisoner. He spoke of his agitation and fatigue,
and desired that a paper, which he handed in, might be read by the clerk
of the arraigns. It was accordingly read in a very feeling manner, but
it contained little in reference to the charge against him, and insisted
strongly upon the promise held out by the magistrate, on his first
giving information upon the subject of the murder. The prisoner
subsequently read a few words of comment upon Probert's evidence, but in
a very dejected voice; and at its conclusion, he hung down his head,
evidently completely overcome by his situation.
Mr. Justice Park then summed up the case to the jury at very great
length, and in a manner which brought the whole of the material facts of
the case under their attention in the clearest and most impartial
manner. After an address of several hours' duration, the jury retired to
consider their verdict. In about twenty minutes they returned into
court, and declared both prisoners guilty.
They were then immediately called up to receive judgment in the
customary manner, when Thurtell addressed the court in the following
terms:--
"My Lord, before you pass sentence, I pray you to take into your serious
consideration what I am about to say: I now for the last time assert
that I am innocent. I entreat a short delay in the execution of the
sentence you may pass, as I have friends now at a distance, with whom it
is necessary that I should transact some business. It is for the sake of
some friends who are dear to me, that I ask this indulgence; not for
myself, for I am at this moment ready. My request I hope your lordship
will take into consideration; and beyond Sunday is all I ask."
The learned judge, at the conclusion of this address, which was once or
twice interrupted by the ebullition of the prisoner's feelings,
announced that it was impossible that the request which had been made
could be complied with, and immediately passed sentence of death upon
both convicts. They then shook hands and quitted the bar, from whence
they were at once conducted to their respective cells. Hunt, however,
received an intimation that in consequence of the representations made
with respect to the promise given by the magistrates, his punishment
would, in all probability, be commuted to transportation for life.
The extraordinary interest and excitement which had been produced by
this most remarkable case, from the first discovery of the perpetration
of the murder, through the disclosure of the whole of the circumstances
attending it, and up to the committal, trial and conviction of the
prisoners, was now increased to an extent which may be pronounced to
have been quite unparalleled. During the whole of Thursday, the day
succeeding the termination of the trial, persons of all ranks and
appearances were seen driving from every quarter into Hertford, in
order, if possible, to obtain a sight of the execution of the
malefactor, many being influenced in a very great degree by the
anticipation that Thurtell would make some extraordinary disclosure in
his dying moments. All the inns of the town were completely filled; and
in many private houses beds were let at an enormous price. The most
active preparations were made in the course of the day by the
magistrates to prevent accident, and at the same time to afford as great
a portion of the assembled multitude an opportunity to obtain a view of
the scaffold and the execution; and arrangements were made, by which the
space ordinarily occupied by the public in such instances should be very
materially increased.
Meanwhile the proceedings in the jail on the part of the prisoners was
of a nature to be most interesting. At ten o'clock on Thursday night,
Thurtell expressed an anxious desire that Hunt might be permitted to
pass the night in his room. His wish was immediately granted, and Hunt
was introduced and was received with a strong manifestation of
cordiality. Thurtell took him by the hand, and said, "Joe, the past is
forgotten. I am on the brink of eternity, and we now meet only as
friends. It may be your fate to lose your life as ignominiously as
myself; but I hope the royal mercy will be extended to you, and that
you will live to repent of your past errors. Although you have been my
enemy, I freely forgive you." Hunt, who had entered the room with
feelings bordering on apprehension that some unfortunate turn had taken
place in his affairs, and that he was himself to suffer, was suddenly
relieved by this address, and, squeezing Thurtell's hand most
vehemently, burst into tears; he then sat down by the fire, and Thurtell
and he continued to pray and to read until one o'clock. Soon after one
the former showed symptoms of fatigue, and lying on the bed, in a few
moments afterwards he dropped into a profound sleep.
On Friday morning, at daybreak, every road leading to Hertford was
thronged with travellers. At half-past six, Mr. Wilson, the jailor,
entered Thurtell's room and found him fast asleep. The prisoner Hunt was
also in a deep slumber. Mr. Wilson, unwilling to disturb their repose,
retired, and at seven o'clock returned again; but the wretched men were
still asleep. Mr. Wilson now approached the bed of Thurtell, and called
him by name, when he started up, and for a moment seemed lost to his
situation, not even knowing where he was, but his recollection quickly
returned. His breakfast was then brought in: it consisted of some tea
and bread and butter; but he partook only of the former, and that but
slightly.
At half-past eleven Thurtell and Hunt were conducted into the chapel,
where the Rev. Mr. Franklin administered the sacrament to them. Thurtell
read the appropriate prayers in a distinct and audible voice, and seemed
fully impressed with the importance of this solemn rite. At its
conclusion, Thurtell turned round to Hunt, and grasped his hand
repeatedly, and renewed, in the most forcible terms, the assurance of
his perfect forgiveness of the past, and of his being about to die in
peace and charity with all the world. The chaplain and Mr. Nicholson,
the under sheriff, then retired from the chapel, leaving Mr. Wilson and
the prisoner Thurtell alone, Hunt having previously been reconducted to
his cell overpowered by his feelings. Mr. Wilson, turning to Thurtell,
said, "Now, Thurtell, as there is no eye to witness what is passing
between us but that of God, you must not be surprised if I ask you a
question." Thurtell turned round, and regarded him with a look of
surprise. Mr. Wilson continued--"If you intend to make any confession, I
think you cannot do it at a better period than the present." Thurtell
paused for a few moments, when Mr. Wilson went on to say, "I ask you if
you acknowledge the justice of your sentence." Thurtell immediately
seized both Mr. Wilson's hands, and pressed them with great fervour
within his own, and said, "I am quite satisfied. I forgive the world; I
die in peace and charity with all mankind, and that is all I wish to go
forth upon this occasion."
The chaplain then returned to the prisoner, and offered him some further
words of comfort, asking him, whether there was anything he could do to
ease his mind with respect to his family and friends? Thurtell replied
that he was anxious that the reverend gentleman should write to his
father, and inform him of his extreme contrition, resignation and
penitence, which Mr. Franklin promised faithfully to do. The unfortunate
man uttered a short prayer, that the minds of his family might be
strengthened under the deep affliction they must feel, and of which he
had been the unhappy author.
At twelve o'clock precisely, Mr. Nicholson tapped at the door with his
wand, as the signal that the hour of execution had arrived. Thurtell
immediately seized Mr. Franklin's hands, and thanked him, not alone for
all the personal kindnesses for which he was indebted to him, but for
that Christian spirit with which he had inspired him, and with which he
was about to depart this world: and the chapel door being thrown open,
the prisoner went forth with a steady and assured step. He looked round
with perfect calmness. The distance from the chapel door to that leading
to the scaffold was not more than ten yards, and thither he was
accompanied by the chaplain, the under sheriff, Mr. Wilson, an assistant
of Mr. Wilson's, and the upper turnkey. The church bell tolled as he
advanced. On their arrival at the door, Thurtell again squeezed Mr.
Franklin's hand, and again exclaimed, 'God bless you, sir; God bless
you.' He then mounted the steps, preceded by the under sheriff and the
executioner, and followed by Mr. Wilson and the head turnkey.
Thurtell, on taking his station under the gallows, looked round with a
countenance unchanged by the awfulness of his situation. His manner was
firm and undaunted, at the same time that it betrayed no unbecoming
levity. After regarding the crowd for a moment, he appeared to recognise
an individual beneath him, to whom he bowed in a friendly manner.
Previously to his mounting the scaffold, he had begged that as little
delay as possible might take place in his execution, after his
appearance upon the platform, and he now repeated the request to the
executioner. His hands, instead of their being confined in the customary
manner with cord, were held together by handcuffs, and his arms were not
pinioned. He was still ironed, as he had been since his conviction, his
shackles consisting merely of a moderate-sized chain, which was confined
at his ankles, and held up to his waist by a Belcher handkerchief, tied
round his middle. He was respectably attired in mourning, and wore a
pair of black gloves on his hands. The moment he placed himself under
the fatal beam, the executioner commenced the performance of his office,
by taking off his cravat. He stood perfectly calm and collected while
this was going on, and held up his head, in order that it might be the
more easily removed. A white cap was then put on his head, and drawn
over his eyes; but it was so thin as still to enable him to look about
him; and he appeared anxiously to avail himself of the opportunity
afforded him, by quickly looking round in all directions. As the clock
sounded the last stroke of twelve, the rope was placed round the neck of
the unhappy convict, and while the executioner was attaching the other
end to the beam above, he looked up, and turning to him, begged him to
"give him fall enough." The hangman replied, "that he might be assured
he should have plenty of fall, and that all would be right." Thurtell
next turned to Mr. Wilson, and repeated the same request; and that
gentleman assured him, that his wishes had been fully attended to. All
being now in readiness, Mr. Wilson drew close to the prisoner, and,
squeezing his hands, exclaimed, "Thurtell, God Almighty bless you:" the
prisoner pressing his hands in return, responded, "God bless you, sir."
Mr. Wilson then stood back upon some boards placed immediately behind
the drop, and the executioner having previously retired, the under
sheriff, with his wand, gave the last fatal signal, the drop suddenly
fell, and the unhappy man was in an instant dead. His sufferings were
but momentary, for, with the exception of a few convulsive motions of
his hands and legs, he seemed to be deprived of all sensation. Thus
perished, in an untimely manner, a man, who, but for untoward
circumstances and the violence of his passions, might have been the
pride of his family.
During the whole of this appalling ceremony there was not the slightest
symptom of emotion discernible in his features; his demeanour was
perfectly calm and tranquil, but though his fortitude was thus
conspicuous, it was evident, from the alteration in his appearance, that
in the interval between his conviction and his execution he must have
suffered much. He looked careworn; his countenance had assumed a
cadaverous hue; and there was a haggardness and lankness about his
cheeks and mouth, which could not fail to attract the notice of every
spectator.
There were many in the crowd who looked upon him with an eye of the
greatest commiseration for his youth and manly appearance; but it cannot
but be obvious that such a feeling must be considered to have been
thrown away, upon a wretch capable of a crime like that of which he was
guilty.
We cannot close our notice of this case, without bringing under the
attention of the reader a report which was in circulation for a
considerable period after the last sentence of the law had been carried
out on this unhappy man, and which obtained almost universal credit. We
have already alluded to Thurtell's connexion with the sporting world,
and especially with that portion of it which patronised the manly
exercises of the "Ring." Admirable as we shall ever hold that custom to
be, which has been so often cried down, but which has always had for its
object the maintenance of those principles, by which the courage of the
British nation has been in no small degree supported, in opposition to
that frightful and un-English alternative, "the knife," we cannot but
admit that some of the members of the body, through whose
instrumentality those principles have been sought to be upheld, have at
times exhibited themselves to be unworthy the notice and patronage which
they have received. It would appear that Thurtell, in his acquaintance
with fighting men, had so far obtained their esteem, that even after his
commission of a crime which should have been most detestable in their
eyes, and in the sight of every man of honest principles, some of them
volunteered to assist to perform an act which would certainly have been
unprecedented, had it been carried into effect. It was neither more nor
less than to bear him away from the scaffold, before his execution, in
defiance of the law, and in the face of the vast mob, which, it was
known, would be collected on the occasion of his execution, the
confusion produced by which, however, they well knew would aid rather
than oppose their object. The volunteers from a body so limited as the
members of the prize ring, it must be obvious, would be too few to put
this design into execution without the assistance of others; and the
means of procuring that assistance was yet to be obtained. With this
object a communication was opened with the friends of the prisoner,
before his trial; but the sum demanded, which was said to be 500_l._,
not being forthcoming, the plan was given up; although not until the
very morning of the day, on which the execution took place, for up to
that time it was believed probable that the demand would be complied
with. It was reported, also, that the scheme proposed was communicated
to Thurtell by a confidential friend, and that he, knowing the facility
with which the few javelin-men, who were mostly aged and decrepit, in
whose care the preservation of the peace and of the limits without the
scaffold was reposed, could be overpowered, fully believed, _up to the
moment of his execution_, that it would be carried into effect. The
extreme calmness of demeanour of the unfortunate prisoner at the place
of execution, and the confidence which he displayed, added to the
anxiety which he exhibited when the ceremony approached its fatal
termination, favour this belief; and although his conduct in the gaol
was of a character to lead to the supposition that he was in reality
prepared to meet that death which he was doomed so soon to receive, it
is by no means unlikely that he was at the same time treasuring up in
his own mind the possibilities of his escape from the fate which awaited
him.