There was hot pursuit, chiefly made at hap-hazard, after the fugitives. Any gentleman heard of in private lodgings, and keeping pretty close within them, might reckon on having his apartments invaded by the eager constables. A gentleman was said to be living very quietly in rooms in St. Martin’s Lane. A group of informers and officers broke in upon him, and found him to be Mr. Thomas Harley, the brother of the Earl of Oxford. Now, the former gentleman had been committed to the Gate House, and was not known to be at large. The keeper of the Gate House entertained such a regard for his gentleman-prisoner that he allowed him to live in private lodgings, with an understanding that he was not to break bounds, but to be within call. This understanding was further secured by the presence of a keeper, who probably passed as a servant. The gaoler justified the course he had taken on the ground that the poor gentleman was in ill-health. The authorities had nothing to say against this clemency; but Mr. Harley was ordered back into durance.
TALBOT RECAPTURED.
Another prisoner, the ultra-Jacobite Talbot, found a temporary asylum in a house in Drury Lane. The Whigs styled it ‘a Popish House.’ In a day or two he removed to a box-maker’s, in a court in Windmill Street, at the top of the Haymarket. ‘Talbot, with the white hand,’ loved drink, as was natural in the alleged son, though illegitimate, of drunken Dick Talbot, once Earl of Tyrconnel, and Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. Talbot and the box-maker sent so frequently for considerable amounts of liquor, to a neighbouring tavern, that mine host expressed his wonder to the Hebe, who fetched it, as she said, for her master and for ‘master’s cousin.’ The cousin had come to be a lodger, she added, but for private reasons she suspected the cousinship. This babble of this maid-of-all-work awakened the curiosity and the cupidity of her hearers. The escape of the prisoners, the king’s proclamation, hopes of reward, flashed into their minds. With a couple of constables they rushed into the presence of the thirsty tipplers, and had no difficulty in discovering or in seizing poor Talbot. They carried him before a Secretary of State, with whose warrant they brought him back to Newgate. They conveyed the luckless fellow in a sort of brutal triumph. As soon as the doors of the old prison closed behind him, Talbot was loaded with double fetters, and was flung into the Condemned Hole, where he had leisure to curse his outrageous thirst. His captors went home with the complacent feeling of loyal men who had earned 500l. by bringing a poor devil within reach of the halter.
ESCAPE OF HEPBURN OF KEITH.
John Mackintosh, the brigadier’s brother, was suddenly come upon at Rochester, where he had safely arrived with the intention of reaching the coast. Messengers in search of the fugitive Jacobites were often roughly treated by Jacobite sympathisers. The latter feigned loyalty to King George, and pretended to see in the messengers some of the men who had broken prison. This obstruction facilitated the escape of several fugitives. Accident helped others, of whom Hepburn of Keith was one. Hepburn’s wife and family lodged near Newgate. They knew of the attempt that was to be made, and they prepared for it accordingly. Hepburn, in the rush from prison, was encountered by a turnkey, whom he overpowered, and he then gained the street. As he was an utter stranger in the locality, he did not well know what direction to take. He was afraid to ask his way lest his speech should betray him. He plunged on therefore, but not altogether at haphazard. He went on till, on that May night, he saw in a window a plated flagon, well known in his family as the Keith Tankard. It was the signal that the fugitive would find safety within. He entered without hesitation, and found himself in the arms of his wife and children.
CHAPTER XI.
(1716.)
DAVID LINDSAY.
