CHAPTER LII.

Smuggling—An exciting smuggling adventure—The Brighton fishermen and the Excise—“Body-snatching”—“Benefit of Clergy”—Tyburn tickets—Death the penalty for many crimes—“Last dying Speech”—The “condemned pew” at Newgate—Horrible execution at Jersey—The new drop—An impenitent criminal.

THE OFFENCE of Smuggling, now all but died out, was common enough, and people in very good positions in life thought it no harm to, at least, indirectly participate in it. The feats of smugglers were of such every-day occurrence, that they were seldom recorded in the papers, unless there were some peculiar circumstances about them, such as shooting an excise man, or the like. In one paper, however, the Morning Post, September 3, 1801, there are two cases, one only of which I shall transcribe. “A singular circumstance occurred on Tuesday last, at King Harry Passage, Cornwall. A smuggler, with two ankers of brandy on the horse under him, was discovered by an exciseman, also on horseback, on the road leading to the Passage. The smuggler immediately rode off at full speed, pursued by the officer, who pressed so close upon him, that, after rushing down the steep hill to the Passage, with the greatest rapidity, he plunged his horse into the water, and attempted to gain the opposite shore. The horse had not swam half way over, before, exhausted with fatigue, and the load on his back, he was on the point of sinking, when the intrepid rider slid from his back, and, with his knife, cut the slings of the ankers, and swam alongside his horse, exerting himself to keep his head above water, but all to no purpose; the horse was drowned, and the man, with difficulty, reached the shore. The less mettlesome exciseman had halted on the shore, where he surveyed the ineffectual struggle, and, afterwards, with the help of the ferryman, got possession of the ankers.”

Sometimes it was done wholesale, see the Morning Herald, February 17, 1802: “Last Thursday morning, the Brighton fishermen picked up at sea, and brought to shore, at that place, upwards of five hundred casks of Contraband spirits, of which the Revenue officers soon got scent, and proceeded, very actively, to unburden the fishermen. This landing and seizing continued, with little intermission, from six to ten, to the great amusement of upwards of two thousand people, who had became spectators of the scene. When the officers had loaded themselves with as many tubs as they could carry, the fishermen, in spite of their assiduity, found means to convey away as many more, and by that means seemed to make a pretty equal division. The above spirits, it appeared, had been thrown overboard by the crew of a smuggling vessel, when closely chased by a Revenue Cutter.”

We may claim that one detestable offence, then rife, is now extinct. I allude to “Body-snatching.” It is true that anatomists had, legally, no way of procuring subjects to practise on, other than those criminals who had been executed, and their bodies not claimed by their friends; but, although the instances on record are, unfortunately numerous, I have already written of them in another book, and once is quite sufficient.

Of one or two legal curiosities now extinct, I may mention “Benefit of Clergy,” an institution established in our early history, in order to screen a clerk, or learned man, from the consequences of his crime. In case of felony, one had but to plead ability to read, and prove it, and the sentence was commuted to branding the hand with a hot iron. It was a privilege much abused, but it lingered on until 1827, when it was abolished by the Act, 7 and 8 Geo. IV. cap. 28.

Another curious custom, now also done away with, we meet with, in an advertisement in the Morning Herald, March 17, 1802: “Wanted, one or two Tyburn Tickets, for the Parish of St. George’s, Hanover Square. Any person or persons having the same to dispose of, may hear of a purchaser,” &c. These tickets were granted to a prosecutor who succeeded in getting a felon convicted, and they carried with them the privilege of immunity from serving all parochial offices. They were transferable by sale (but only once), and the purchaser enjoyed its privileges. They were abolished in 1818. They had a considerable pecuniary value, and in the year of their abolition, one was sold for £280!

“Tyburn” reminds us of the fearful numbers sentenced to death at that time. The law sadly wanted reformation in this respect; besides murder, coining, forgery, &c., many minor offences were punishable with death, although all convicted and sentenced were not executed; some being reprieved, and punished with transportation. George III. had a great dislike to capital punishment, and remitted the sentence to as many as he could. Take as an example of the awful severity of the law, only one sessions at the Old Bailey, ending September 24, 1801: “Sentence of death was then passed upon Thomas Fitzroy, alias Peter Fitzwater, for breaking and entering the dwelling-house of James Harris, in the daytime, and stealing a cotton counterpane. Wm. Cooper for stealing a linen cloth, the property of George Singleton, in his dwelling-house. J. Davies for a burglary. Richard Emms for breaking into the dwelling-house of Mary Humphreys, in the daytime, and stealing a pair of stockings. Richard Forster for a burglary. Magnus Kerner for a burglary, and stealing six silver spoons. Robert Pearce for returning from transportation. Richard Alcorn for stealing a horse. John Nowland and Rd. Freke for burglary and stealing four tea spoons, a gold snuff-box, &c. John Goldfried for stealing a blue coat. Joseph Huff, for stealing a lamb, and John Pass for stealing two lambs.”

THE CONDEMNED SERMON. NEWGATE.

In fact, the “Tyburn tree” was kept well employed, and yet, apparently, the punishment of death hardly acted as a deterrent. A sad, very sad street cry, yet one I have often heard, was of these poor wretches; true, it had been made specially to order, in Catnach’s factory for these articles, in Monmouth Court, Seven Dials; but still it was the announcement of another fellow-creature having been done to death.

The executions which would arise from the batch of sentences I have just recorded, would take place at Newgate. The last person hanged at Tyburn, having suffered, November 7, 1783, and the above illustration shows in a peculiarly graphic manner, the condemned sermon, which was preached to those about to die on the morrow. To make the service thoroughly intelligible to them, and to impress them with the reality of their impending fate, a coffin was set in the midst of the “condemned pew.”

THE LAST DYING SPEECH AND CONFESSION.

Crowds witnessed the executions, which took place in the front of Newgate, and on one occasion, on the 23rd of February, 1807, an accident occurred, by the breaking of the axle of a cart, whereon many people were standing; they were not only hurt, but the crowd surged over them, and it ended in the death of twenty-eight people, besides injuries to many more.

We have seen, in February, 1885, a murderer reprieved, because the drop would not act; but in the following instance, the criminal did suffer, at all events, actual pain. It happened at Jersey, on the 11th of May, 1807, and is thus chronicled in the Annual Register for that year: “After hanging for about a minute and a half, the executioner suspended himself to his body; by whose additional weight the rope extended in such a manner that the feet of the criminal touched the ground. The executioner then pulled him sideways, in order to strangle him; and being unable to effect this, got upon his shoulders; when, to the no small surprise of the spectators, the criminal rose straight upon his feet, with the hangman upon his shoulders, and loosened the rope from his throat with his fingers. The Sheriff ordered another rope to be prepared; but the spectators interfered, and, at length, it was agreed to defer the execution till the will of the magistrates should be known. It was subsequently determined that the whole case should be transmitted to His Majesty, and the execution of the sentence was deferred till His Majesty’s pleasure should be known.”

A platform which suddenly disappeared from under the criminal seems to have been invented in 1807, for we read under 27th of July of that year, that John Robinson was executed at York “on the new drop,” but something of the same kind had certainly been used in 1805.

As a rule, the poor creatures died creditably; but there is one case to the contrary, which is mentioned in the European Magazine, vol. xlvii. pp. 232-40. A man named Hayward was to be hanged for cutting and maiming another. The scene at the execution is thus described: “When the time for quitting the courtyard arrived, Hayward was called to a friend to deliver him a bundle, out of which he took an old jacket, and a pair of old shoes, and put them on. ‘Thus,’ said he, ‘will I defeat the prophecies of my enemies; they have often said I should die in my coat and shoes, and I am determined to die in neither.’ Being told it was time to be conducted to the scaffold, he cheerfully attended the summons, having first ate some bread and cheese, and drank a quantity of coffee. Before he departed, however, he called out, in a loud voice, to the prisoners who were looking through the upper windows at him, ‘Farewell, my lads, I am just a going off; God bless you!’ ‘We are sorry for you,’ replied the prisoners. ‘I want no more of your pity,’ rejoined Hayward; ‘keep your snivelling till it be your own turn.’ Immediately on his arrival upon the scaffold, he gave the mob three cheers, introducing each with a ‘Hip, ho!’ While the cord was preparing he continued hallooing to the mob.

“It was found necessary, before the usual time, to put the cap over his eyes, besides a silk handkerchief, by way of bandage, that his attention might be entirely abstracted from the spectators.... He then gave another halloa, and kicked off his shoes among the spectators, many of whom were deeply affected at the obduracy of his conduct.”