Englishmen have an undoubted privilege of assembling for the purpose of declaring their grievances and soliciting redress, whether from the sovereign or the parliament, and this liberty afforded the demagogues a good opportunity for inflaming the passions of the deluded, and disseminating their own pernicious opinions. Meetings were held in various parts of the kingdom for the ostensible purpose of petitioning for parliamentary reform, and the metropolis followed the example. When we come to the case of Watson and Thistlewood, we shall enter fully into the atrocious scheme of those who devised many of these meetings, but at present it is necessary to confine ourselves to a detail of facts, which will serve as an illustration of what is to follow.
The first meeting, which may be called the preliminary to the riot, took place November the 15th, 1816, in the Spafields, then a wild uninclosed space. A flag was unfurled bearing the following words:—“Nature to feed the hungry—truth to protect the oppressed—justice to punish offenders.” Hunt attended in consequence of an invitation, and some violent speeches having been made, he was deputed to carry a petition to the Prince Regent. This meeting dissolved, after having passed a resolution to meet at the same place on the 2nd of December, to receive the answer to the petition; but the circulation of some addresses proved that the object of the meeting was not of that peaceful nature which its promoters pretended to ascribe to it. On the day appointed, soon after twelve o’clock, the assemblage of the mob commenced, and in less than half-an-hour about 5000 persons had collected round a party supporting tri-coloured flags, and a banner bearing the inscription—“The brave soldiers are our brothers; treat them kindly,” who had placed themselves within about thirty yards of the field next to Coldbath-fields’ Prison. A cart was found to have been placed on this spot, and in a short time Dr. Watson, his son, and a Mr. Hooper, all carrying tri-coloured cockades in their hats, ascended this rostrum, and were hailed with loud cheers. The doctor and his son then addressed the meeting in most inflammatory speeches; and the latter having wound himself up to a pitch of the most ungovernable fury, called upon the people to follow him, and jumping from his elevated position, he rushed, pistol in hand, at the head of the mob, towards Clerkenwell. The people were under the impression that he was going to lead them to the Mansion-house; but a cry of “Arms” being set up in Smithfield, they rushed down Snow Hill to the shop of Mr. Beckwith, a gun-maker. Young Watson, with five of his followers, immediately entered the shop, the former exclaiming, “Arms, arms, I want arms!” and a Mr. Platt, who was at the door, attempting to arrest his progress, he deliberately shot at him, and wounded him, and then endeavoured to knock him down with the but-end of his weapon. A struggle took place, in which the pistol fell to the ground, and Watson being pushed into the counting-house, and charged by Mr. Platt with having shot him, he cried out, apparently in much alarm, “I am a misled young man—I have been at Spafields—send for a surgeon,—I am a surgeon myself,” and immediately set about dressing the wound in a manner which exhibited his ability to afford the aid which he proffered. A surgeon was, however, procured, and during a quarter of an hour, for which he remained in the counting-house, he repeatedly cried out that he was a misled young man. The mob at first had been under the impression that their leader was killed, and on the report of the pistol, many of them fled, but having caught sight of him in the shop they demanded that he should be restored to liberty. Measures were now taken to secure his person, but the mob being infuriated at his long detention, they burst into the house, and having compelled its inmates to fly for safety, and set their leader at liberty, they proceeded to ransack the premises for arms. Having procured all that the establishment contained, they marched under the guidance of their leader to the Tower, and then while young Watson endeavoured to win the soldiers from their allegiance, by assuring them of the good feeling which prevailed towards them on the part of the people, and that they should receive 100 guineas per man if they would join them, the mob continued to scour the neighbourhood in search of arms. While, however, the great body of the rioters had thus followed in the steps of their leader, others pursued a different direction, and taking St. Giles, St. Clement’s, and the Strand, in their march, despoiled every shop which they approached of such articles as they deemed might be useful to them. The irruption was so sudden, that the means of opposing the proceedings of the rioters could not speedily be obtained. The lord mayor, Sir Matthew Wood, showed great determination; and notwithstanding the most violent proceedings on the part of these fellows, he and Sir James Shaw, the chamberlain, succeeded in securing three of the insurgents, who had entered the Royal Exchange and who were armed with guns.
The military at length appeared, and many of the rioters were secured, while the others, having thrown away their arms, quickly disappeared. Young Watson, however, was nowhere to be found; and it appears that immediately after he quitted the Tower, being alarmed at his position, he hastily returned to his lodgings, and possessing himself of some papers and other articles he went to a public-house in Fetter-lane, where he found his father and Thistlewood. The trio considered themselves as being likely to be taken into custody, and they in consequence quitted London for Northampton immediately. On their arriving at Highgate, however, they were seized on suspicion of being footpads, but a scuffle taking place, the elder Watson alone remained in the hands of their assailants, while his companions effected their escape. Young Watson had the good fortune to reach London again in safety, and his friends having provided him with the means, he sailed directly for America.
Several of the rioters were brought to trial, but John Cashman, a sailor, alone was capitally convicted and punished. There can be no doubt as to the justice of the sentence and punishment inflicted on this man; but it is also equally clear that while he was indubitably guilty of a most gross offence, others were even more culpable, inasmuch as they were actuated by deliberate motives of mischief, while he was goaded on by hunger and misery; and besides, as many believed, was occasionally in some degree affected by symptoms of insanity. It appears that Cashman was one of the most active of the rioters who attacked and demolished Mr. Beckwith’s shop in Skinner-street. Several persons deposed that he frequently brought out bundles of fire-arms and distributed them among the mob in the street, and he was actually apprehended with one of Mr. Beckwith’s guns in his hand, at the Royal Exchange, being one of those seized by the lord-mayor.
For this offence Cashman, with four others, was brought to trial at the Old Bailey, January 20th 1817. The indictment did not charge them with any species of treason, being confined to capital felony only, for stealing the fire-arms, &c., stated to be considerably above the value of two hundred and fifty pounds. The names of the four others were,—John Hooper, R. Gamble, William Gunnell, and John Carpenter. Two of these were apprehended at the same time as Cashman, and under similar circumstances, and the evidence against them all went to implicate them in the crime of felony; but the jury, to the apparent astonishment of the court, acquitted all but Cashman, who was found guilty and sentenced to death.
When asked what he had to say why sentence of death should not be passed on him, he addressed the court as follows:—
“My lord—I hope you will excuse a poor friendless sailor for occupying your time. Had I died fighting the battles of my country, I should have gloried in it; but I confess that it grieves me to think of suffering like a robber, when I call God to witness that I have passed days together without a bit of bread rather than violate the laws. I have served my king for many years, and often fought for my country; I have received nine wounds in the service, and have never before been charged with any offence. I have been at sea all my life, and my father was killed on board the Diana frigate. I came to London, my lord, to endeavour to recover my pay and prize-money, but being unsuccessful I was reduced to the greatest distress; and being poor and penniless, I have not been able to bring witnesses to prove my innocence, or to acquaint my brave officers, or I am sure they would all have come forward on my behalf. The gentlemen who have sworn against me must have mistaken me for some other person, there being many sailors in the mob; but I freely forgive them, and I hope God will also forgive them, for I solemnly declare that I committed no act of violence.”
Wednesday morning, March the 12th 1817, was the time appointed for the execution of this unfortunate man, and to make the dreadful ceremony as awfully impressive as possible, it was ordered that he should suffer in front of Mr. Beckwith’s shop, where the crime for which his life was forfeited had been committed.
After conviction, the unhappy man stated that on the day of the riots he had been to the Admiralty to endeavour to procure the payment of 200l., to which he was entitled for prize-money, and that on his way home he was persuaded by a brother sailor to go to Spafields. On their way they drank a great deal of liquor, and having had but little food during the two preceding days, it had a great effect upon him. He expressed a desire that his prize-money should be given to his brother and mother.
On the morning of the execution great precautions were taken to prevent any disturbance, and troops and constables were placed throughout London to quell any appearance of riot. At eight o’clock Cashman was brought from his cell, and he appeared perfectly composed, but exhibited a great deal of levity. As he passed through the Press Yard, he exclaimed with an oath, that he wished a forty-four pounder would come and cut him in two, rather than he should go into Jack Ketch’s hands.