VI. BRIGADIER MACKINTOSH'S ESCAPE
OWING to his prodigious strength and daring, Brigadier Mackintosh was more feared than any other of the rebels confined in Newgate, and it was deemed necessary to place him in irons.
Highly indignant at such treatment, he complained of it in the strongest terms to the governor, but was told it was done by the express order of Lord Townshend.
“His lordship wishes to inflict a disgrace upon me,” he said; “but he simply dishonours himself by treating a Highland commander like a common felon. Tell his lordship his contemptible fetters will not prevent my escape.”
After Forster's escape, which had caused an extraordinary sensation throughout London, the vigilance of the jailers was doubled, and Brigadier Mackintosh delayed the execution of the daring project he had conceived till the latest moment.
Not till the night before his trial was fixed to take place at Westminster Hall did he make the attempt.
Already he had partly sawn through the hateful fetters, so that he could cast them off in a moment, and they were now rather advantageous to him than otherwise, as they procured him greater freedom.
Colonel Mackintosh, who was likewise a prisoner, Charles Wogan, Robert Hepburn of Keith, with several others, chiefly Scotsmen, were to be partners in the flight, but the entire conduct of the enterprise was left to the brigadier himself.
About eleven o'clock at night, Mackintosh, having freed himself from his irons, cautiously descended the stairs leading from the upper ward to the press-yard, and stationed himself at the door.
His friends remained in the dormitory, but were ready to join him in a moment.
Presently the door was unlocked, as he expected it would be, by the governor's black servant, Caliban, bearing a lantern.
Caliban was a powerful fellow, but no match for the brigadier, who seized him by the throat with a gripe like that of a vice, and hurled him to the ground.
The cries of the half-strangled black brought the governor, and Mr. Ballard, the head turnkey, to the spot.
They were struck with amazement at seeing the brigadier, but did not dare to grapple with him, now that he was free from his irons.
Leaving them to be dealt with by his followers, who were now thronging the press-room, the brigadier hurried on—his object being to disarm the sentinel.
Before the man could raise the musket to his shoulder, Mackintosh sprang upon him like a tiger, and forced the weapon from his grasp, while young Hepburn pinioned the man's arms.
Meantime, Ballard had been deprived of his keys, and he and Mr. Pitts were thrust through the door leading to the staircase from the press-room, and locked out.
The porter in the lodge alone remained—at least, it was thought so by the fugitives—but he chanced to have a watchman with him at the time, and this gossiping guardian of the night, hearing the disturbance, endeavoured to rush out and spring his rattle.
But he was caught and deprived of his coat, lantern, and hat by the brigadier, who thought the disguise might prove serviceable to some of his followers.
In another minute the fugitives were out in the street, which was fortunately quite deserted at the time, and the lodge gate being locked outside, immediate pursuit was impossible.
Bidding each other a hasty farewell, the fugitives then separated, each seeking the asylum which he knew had been provided for him.
Mr. Hepburn was uncertain where to go, when a light in a window at that late hour attracted his attention, and he perceived an antique silver tankard of peculiar shape, which he knew belonged to his family.
Without hesitation he entered the house and found his wife, who had placed the cup in the window, hoping it might catch his eye.
Forster's flight from Newgate was completely eclipsed by that of Brigadier Mackintosh and his companions.
That the first escape had been effected by bribery, very few persons doubted; but this was a bold dashing affair, well calculated to excite public admiration, and nothing else was talked about for a few days.
As previously mentioned, the trial of the rebels was to have taken place in Westminster Hall on the following day. The court and juries met, but no prisoners were forthcoming, and an adjournment took place; but though a reward of one thousand pounds was offered for the apprehension of the brigadier, and five hundred pounds for each of his associates, they were not retaken.
After a temporary concealment, Mackintosh succeeded in making his escape to France, where he remained for several years; but being unable to resist the impulse to revisit his native land, he ventured back to Scotland—a very hazardous step to take, since, being an outlaw, he was excluded from the benefit of the Act of Indemnity.
The consequence was that the veteran warrior spent the remainder of his life as a prisoner in Edinburgh Castle.
It is not our intention to follow the executioners in their sanguinary circuit through Lancashire—not shall we even particularise the insurgents who suffered the utmost rigour of the law at Lancaster, Garstang, Preston, Wigan, Liverpool, and Manchester—but we will halt for a moment at the latter place to allude to Tom Syddall, who was barbarously put to death with four or five others at Knot Mill. His case may stand for all the rest, since it was in no respect exceptional.
Taken on a hurdle to the gallows, partly hanged—but not till life was extinct, he was drawn and quartered, and his head fixed on the market cross.
Such was the punishment inflicted upon all the rebels of lower rank, who were not transported to the colonies.