And how to hang in a more graceful fashion
Than e’er was known before to the dull English nation.
The third chapter of Macaulay’s History gives an excellent account of highwaymen in the reign of Charles II.
1677. Thomas Sadler is said to have been in prison fifteen times before he planned his last and greatest exploit. With the aid of two accomplices, he stole from Great Queen Street, the Lord Chancellor’s mace and purse (the official purse, one of the emblems of the office). Sadler was so delighted with his success, that in crossing Lincoln’s Inn Fields he made one of the confederates precede him with the mace on his shoulder, while he himself strutted behind him, followed by the purse-bearer. They bore their plunder to a house in the City, where it was locked up in a cupboard. Curiosity led a maid to look through a chink in the door, when to her wonderment she saw what she took to be the King’s crown. This led to the discovery of the robbery. On his trial Sadler behaved with superb frankness. “‘My lord,’ he said, addressing the court, ‘I own the fact, and it was I and this man’ (pointing to one that stood by him at the bar) ‘that robbed my Lord Chancellor: and the three others are clear of the fact, though I cannot say but they were confederates with us in the concealment of the prize after it was taken. This I declare’ (said he) ‘to the honourable bench, that I may be clear of the blood of these other three persons.’”… “However, the court went on in a legal way, and another witness began to demonstrate in what manner he was taken: to whom the prisoner answered in this manner: ‘Prithee, fellow, do not make such a long narration of my being taken; thou seest I am here, and I own that I and this man, as aforesaid, are guilty of the fact.’”
THE TRIPLE TREE, ABOUT 1680.
It seems that one of the confederates was reprieved. Sadler, and Johnson, one of his companions, were among the five men executed at Tyburn on March 16, 1677 (“A Perfect Narrative,” &c., 1676-7, reprinted in Harleian Mis., v. 505-6).
1678. We now come to one of the blackest pages, not only in the history of England, but in the history of civilised communities.
Eighteen years of misgovernment had brought the people to a point at which an outbreak of some kind became inevitable. Dunkirk had been ceded to the French: the sound of Dutch guns had been heard in the Thames. The Court was known to be under French influence. “There were two things,” says Bishop Parker, “which, like Circe’s cups, bewitched men and turned them into brutes, viz., popery and French interest, and, if either of these happened to be whispered in the House of Commons, they quitted their calm and moderate proceedings, and ran immediately into clamour and high debates.” Politicians had for years played on the fears of the people. France was to send a great army to reduce the country to popery and slavery. “They kept the people in constant fear: and there was scarce greater uproar when Hannibal was at the gates of Rome.” Charles had no successor in direct line; on his decease the crown would fall to his brother, the Duke of York, known to be a catholic. This was the position “when the Popish Plot broke out, a transaction which had its roots in hell, and its branches in the clouds.”