Meanwhile, they were sent back to various prisons, but most of them to Newgate.
SCOTT’S NEWGATE.
Scott (in ‘Rob Roy’) has reflected the interior of Newgate at this time. Sir Hildebrand Osbaldiston with his wounded son John, and the memory of his other son, Wilfrid, slain at Preston, had an original in that gloomy prison. The dying John, bequeathing, with his last breath, his cast of hawks, at the Hall, and his black spaniel bitch called Lucy, was not without a prototype in that dungeon. So it was with the religious visit of the chaplain of the Sardinian Ambassador, permission for which was got with difficulty;—and the dying, less of fear of the future, than of utter breaking down of mind, heart, and body;—and the suspicion on the part of the Jacobites as to the intentions that lay under the proffered kindness of a Whig. The following picture too appears to be a faithful reflex of the original:—
‘The arm of the law was gradually abridging the numbers of those whom I endeavoured to serve, and the hearts of the survivors became gradually more contracted towards all whom they conceived to be concerned with the existing government. As they were led gradually and by detachments to execution, those who survived lost interest in mankind, and the desire of communicating with them. I shall long remember what one of them, Ned Shafton by name, replied to my anxious enquiry whether there was any indulgence I could procure him. “Mr. Frank Osbaldiston, I must suppose you mean me kindly, and therefore I thank you. But, by G—, men cannot be fattened like poultry, when they see their neighbours carried off, day by day, to the place of execution, and know that their own necks are to be twisted round in their turn.”’
MOB FEROCITY.
Several contrived that their turn should not arrive, and, from day to day, slipped out of Newgate. For the use of persons lucky enough to get free, a great trade was driven in forged ‘passes,’ which sometimes brought the forgers to Tyburn. On the other hand, Lord Dupplin, the Marquis of Huntly, Sir John Erskine, and others, were released, and the ‘Jacks’ recognised them in the streets, with cheers. At the same time, Lord Duffus was caught and brought in, under uncomplimentary salute from the Whig mobile. The Tory mobs were ferocious. A serving-girl had informed the Government of the whereabout of a so-called Jacobite ‘Colonel,’ who was wanted. Some Jacks attacked the house in which the girl lived, seized her, and flung her to the roaring mob, without. She would there have had as much mercy as a fox from a pack of hounds, had she not been ‘risqu’d by some brave loyal gentlemen,’ and some constables who are described as being ‘very affectionate towards the government.’
[6] Charles Radcliffe, brother to Lord Derwentwater, Charles and Peregrine Widdrington, brothers of Lord Widdrington, John Thornton, Robert Shaw, Thomas Errington, Phil. Hodgson, Donald Robertson, James and Edward Swinburne, Angus and William Mackintosh, James Macqueen, and Alexander Macrudder.
