Sir James Fitzjames Stephen says that setting in the pillory for fraudulent concealment of goods to the value of £20 “continued to be the statutory penalty for fraudulent bankruptcy from 21 James I. (1623) c. 19, s. 7 till the year 1732.”[208] The reference is to the Act 5 George II. c. 30. Sir James appears, however, to have overlooked a previous Act, 4 & 5 Anne (1705), c. 4, s. 1 of which made fraudulent bankruptcy a felony without benefit of clergy. It is said that there were but few executions for this offence. The most remarkable case is that of John Perrott, who was executed at Smithfield (not at Tyburn) on November 11, 1761. The story, of singular interest, is told in great detail in the Gentleman’s Magazine for the year, xxxi. 585-92.
1715. December 7. Nine adherents of the Pretender were executed at Tyburn.
There followed other executions:—
1716. May 14. Colonel Oxburgh.
May 25. Richard Gascoign.
July 18. Rev. William Paul and John Hall.
In his account of the execution of Paul and Hall, Mr. Lorrain, the ordinary of Newgate, says: “The cart being drawn away, and they being turned off, the People gave a mighty shout, and with loud Acclamations said, God save King George. To which I say, Amen.”
As mention has been made of Mr. Lorrain, it may be not amiss to say something about him. The Rev. Paul Lorrain, probably of Huguenot extraction, was the ordinary of Newgate from 1698 to 1719. The British Museum possesses nearly fifty of the broadsheets issued by him, giving accounts of the behaviour, last speeches, and execution of the criminals who came under his care in Newgate. The worthy ordinary was perhaps inclined to estimate too highly the effect of his ministrations on these criminals. His representations of their penitent attitude procured for them the name of “Paul Lorrain’s Saints” (Tatler, No. 63). There is a good-humoured reference to this weakness in the Spectator, No. 338.
1718. March 17. Execution of Ferdinando Marquis de Palleotti.
The Duke of Shrewsbury, being at Rome, fell in love with Palleotti’s sister, and upon the lady’s conversion to Protestantism, married her. Ferdinando visited his sister in England. He was addicted to gambling, and made such demands upon his sister’s purse that at length she refused further supplies. He was arrested for debt, and liberated by her. Walking in the street one day, he ordered his servant to call upon a gentleman in the neighbourhood, and ask for a loan. The servant showing reluctance to fulfil the order, the marquis drew his sword and ran him through the body. According to the ordinary, the marquis thought it a great hardship that he should die for so small a matter as killing his servant (James Mountague, “The Old Bailey Chronicle,” i. 185-8).