Lord Sandwich gave to the world a thing and its name. He was an inveterate gambler, and, in order that he might continue this diversion uninterruptedly, he caused to be served to him thin slices of meat placed between bread. Hence the “sandwich,” known to all civilised men.
1779. August 25. Four malefactors were carried to Tyburn for execution, and had been tied up for near twenty minutes when a report was spread that a reprieve was come to Newgate for one of them. They were all untied and left in the cart while one of the sheriffs went to Lord Weymouth to learn the truth. No reprieve having been granted, the execution took place at near one o’clock.
1779. October 27. Isabella Condon, condemned for coining, was at Tyburn first strangled, and then burnt.
1780. April 12. A man was executed at Tyburn for robbing the house of Jeremiah Bentham. This was the father of Jeremy Bentham. One wonders whether this execution directed his thoughts to the question of capital punishment.
1781. July 27. Francis Henry de la Motte, executed at Tyburn for giving to the French Government information as to the movement of British ships. The sentence was in the usual form for high treason, that he should be hanged “but not till you are dead,” but he was allowed to hang for nearly an hour. The head was severed from the body, four incisions made in the body, and part of the entrails thrown into a fire. Then the body was delivered to an undertaker, and was buried in St. Pancras churchyard.
1783. August 29. William Wynne Ryland executed at Tyburn for forgery. Ryland was an engraver of repute in the manner of Bartolozzi. He is the subject of a careful study, perhaps too sympathetic, by Mr. Bleackley, in his “Some Distinguished Victims of the Scaffold,” 1905.
1783. November 7. On this day took place the last execution at Tyburn. The occasion requires us to give in full the account, not otherwise particularly interesting. It is quoted from the Gentleman’s Magazine:—
This morning was executed at Tyburn, John Austin, convicted the preceding Saturday of robbing John Spicer, and cutting and wounding him in a cruel manner. From Newgate to Tyburn he behaved with great composure. While the halter was tying, his whole frame appeared to be violently convulsed. The Ordinary having retired, he addressed himself to the populace: “Good people, I request your prayers for the salvation of my departing soul: let my example teach you to shun the bad ways I have followed: keep good company, and mind the word of God.” The cap being drawn over his face, he raised his hands and cried, “Lord have mercy on me: Jesus look down with pity on me: Christ have mercy on my poor soul!” and, while uttering these words, the cart was driven away. The noose of the halter having slipped to the back part of his neck, it was longer than usual before he was dead.
The transference of executions to Newgate involved the suppression of the processions which for six hundred years had been a feature of the city’s life. The change did not receive the approval of Dr. Johnson. “The age,” he said, “is running mad after innovation: all the business of the world is to be done in a new way: Tyburn itself is not safe from the fury of innovation!” It having been argued that this was an improvement—“No, Sir (said he eagerly), it is not an improvement: they object that the old method drew together a number of spectators. Sir, executions are intended to draw spectators. If they do not draw spectators, they don’t answer their purpose. The old method was most satisfactory to all parties: the public was gratified by a procession: the criminal was supported by it. Why is all this to be swept away?”
From the “moral lesson” point of view Dr. Johnson was quite right. But the procession was abolished simply because the best quarter of the town had extended to Tyburn.