Apropos of the peine forte et dure, in March, 1674, a man living at Cannock was arraigned at the Stafford Assizes for the murder of his father, mother, and wife. He refused to plead, but was adjudged guilty. For his contumacy he was sentenced to undergo the peine forte et dure, or, in other words to be pressed to death. This was carried out, as appears from a picture in the Salt Library at Stafford, showing the unhappy wretch lying on the floor, with a board on his chest covered with a number of heavy weights.[49]
This must have been a more dreadful agony, while it lasted, than the “little ease” or the “rack.” The severity of the latter engine is sufficiently attested by the signatures of Guy Fawkes before and after that ordeal.[50]
In 1726 Mrs. Catherine Hayes was burnt alive, doubtless for high or petit treason.[51]
We gather from Howell’s State Trials that when the English Regency made an order, in 1742, to hang the body of the murderer of Mr. Penny in chains, they inserted therein that it was on the petition of the relatives of the deceased.[52]
In 1742 John Breeds a butcher of Rye, conceived a violent animosity against Mr. Thomas Lamb of the same place, and, as the old Statute of High Treason would put it, “compassed and imagined” his death. The opportunity seemed to present itself on the night of March 17th, on the occasion of Mr. Lamb being about to see a friend off by ship to France. But, changing his mind at the last moment, he requested his neighbour, Mr. Grebble, to take his place, which he did. Breeds, or, as he is called on Mr. Grebble’s tombstone, the “sanguinary butcher,” sharpened his knife and took his station in the shadowy churchyard, and soon rushed on the unsuspecting Mr. Grebble, and mortally stabbed him. The unfortunate victim had strength enough to reach his house, and sit himself in a chair, out of which he very soon fell, and died, to the great consternation of his servant, who was at once suspected of being the murderer. The conduct of Breeds, however, soon cleared up all doubts upon this point. He was tried, and found guilty, and condemned to death, and to be hung in chains. For this purpose a gibbet was set up in a marsh at the west end of the town now called “Gibbet Marsh.” The carcass of Breeds swung for many years on the morass, and when all but the upper part of the skull had dropped away, the chains and frame were rescued by the Corporation of Rye, and have, by lapse of time, acquired a kind of grim interest, if not exactly to “adorn a tale,” at least “to point a moral.”
BREEDS’S IRONS, 1742.
(From a photograph.)
In 1747 Christopher Holliday was beaten to death with his own staff by a cold-blooded savage, Adam Graham, on Beck Moor, near Balenbush, on the English side of the Border. Graham was executed at Carlisle, and his body hung in chains upon a gibbet twelve yards high, on Kingmoor, with twelve thousand nails driven into it to prevent it being swarmed, or cut down, and the body carried off. The murderer left a confession of several other crimes, which was published at the time in pamphlet form, and had a large sale.
The smugglers also fell into the dire clutches of the law for the good reason that their vulgar atrocities deserved the highest punishment. They were not graceful villains like Claud Duval, that hero of the mob, who is said—but by disinterested witnesses—to have quite charmed the victims while he broke two of the commandments. Thus William Carter, smuggler and murderer, was executed and hung up in chains near Rake, on the Portsmouth road, in 1749.[53] Four others, concerned in the same crime, were similarly gibbeted. One of the leg pieces of Carter’s irons is in the collection of Lady Dorothy Nevill. Implicated in this affair—namely, the robbery of the Custom House at Poole, and the murder of Mr. Galley and Mr. Chater—was William Jackson. He, also, was condemned to be hung, and gibbeted in chains; but the poor wretch was so ill, and horror-struck when they measured him for his irons, that he died of fright. His body was thrown into a hole near Carter’s gibbet. A memorial stone, with a long inscription recording the crime in which so many suffered, was set up on the spot in 1749, and still remains.