An Authentic History of the Cato-Street Conspiracy / With the trials at large of the conspirators, for high treason and murder, a description of their weapons and combustible machines, and every particular connected with the rise, progress, discovery, and termination of the horrid plot

by George Theodore Wilkinson

“Besides these circumstances was another still more extraordinary and unfortunate. At the state trials of 1794, whoever was discharged by a verdict of his countrymen was discharged at once from all further prosecution; and with the inquiry of that Court ended all inquiry into his conduct.

“This man, Thistlewood, however, was so beset, that, even though he obtained at their hands a verdict of acquittal upon this charge, he had to undergo a similar trial upon other indictments: indeed he (Mr. Adolphus) did not hesitate to say that he (Thistlewood) was surrounded by every danger which could possibly environ the life of a single individual. It appeared as if this melancholy choice alone were left him, whether he would have the execution of his sentence end with the severing of his head from his body, or whether he would have his body given up after his execution to the dissecting knife of the surgeon. If his guilt were of such a nature as to demand that penalty to be added to the others inflicted by the law, he had only himself to blame for it: far was it from his (Mr. Adolphus’s) intention to palliate his conduct upon that point: the only reason which he had for even alluding to it was to implore them to place out of their consideration every circumstance which was not connected with the subject of their present investigation, and which had not been brought regularly before them in the course of the trial.

“The Attorney-General had made the same request to them, and it had well become his character and legal knowledge to do so. It was not less his duty as a man and as a Christian, than as a high officer of the Crown, to give them that advice: for, bound as he was to protect the interests of the Crown, he was not less bound not to exercise his power in wantonly running down those subjects, who were living under its fostering care and protection. Made, then, as this request had been made to them by the Attorney-General, he (Mr. Adolphus) could not help repeating it; for he was well aware how difficult it was to dismiss from the mind the impressions of ill-will and dislike which were naturally conceived against any one who was, or ever had been, the subject of general reprobation.

“On occasions like the present a man’s usual convictions stole into his mind, in spite of himself: it therefore became them to be doubly on their guard, and to view the case then under their consideration as if they had never heard the name of Thistlewood before, and as if they had never received any other information than that which had come under their notice in the course of the trial, upon which, and upon which alone, they were sworn to give their verdict. He agreed with the Attorney-General that the present was a case of infinite importance; not, however, to the prisoner at the bar merely, whose life was at a stake, (indeed in that point of view it was of less importance than in any other) but also to the state and to all posterity.

“It was of importance to the state that verdicts should be given upon strict evidence alone, and not upon favourable or unfavourable impressions conceived by the Jury regarding the party on his trial. It was of importance also to posterity; because if, as against a bad man, a certain kind of evidence should now be allowed to procure conviction, it would, in time, be also allowed to procure conviction against a good one; and, in that case nobody could tell whose fame might not be impeached, whose property might not be injured, whose life might not be destroyed, by the same kind of evidence as had been produced on this trial; evidence which ought never to have the credence of any jury, or the sanction of any court.

“It was not, therefore, so much for the value of Thistlewood’s life (though God forbid that he should undervalue the life of any man) as for the value of a precedent in a case of treason, that he was then contending; for if a charge of high treason could be substantiated against any British subject on such evidence as had just been adduced there would be an end to all our well-founded boasts of the excellence of our law regarding high treason. Such an event, however, he, for one, did not anticipate, when he recollected with what care the law of treason had been guarded by the legislature, and with what caution executed by our juries, ever since the period of its first institution. Nor was such caution, vigilance, and correctness, as had been always exhibited by our juries, with some few exceptions, and those in bad times, unnecessary or uncalled-for.

“An accusation of high treason was a fearful accusation. In all other criminal cases, from a simple assault up to a murder, the King though not the real, was the ostensible prosecutor: in a case of high treason, however, the King was not merely the ostensible but also the real prosecutor; he was directly arrayed against the prisoner, and therefore it was the imperative duty of the Jury to see that the subject was not oppressed. The present case of high treason was as important as any of those which had ever preceded it; and the Jury ought, therefore, to be peculiarly careful not to allow one tittle of evidence to weigh with them which had not been admitted on former occasions, and, if they had any doubts with regard to its admissibility, ought to lean to the prisoner, and not to the Crown, however interested they might be in its preservation, and the preservation of its authority.

“He had before had occasion to state to them, that the defence of the prisoner at the bar had come to him, in the course of his professional business, as an enforced duty. He had not sought it; he had not refused it; indeed, as an advocate, he could do neither one nor the other. Standing, however, as he did, in that Court, as the advocate, the unfee’d, and therefore, in some respect, the voluntary advocate of the prisoner Thistlewood, he deemed it right (unnecessary and improper as it might be on any other occasion for an advocate to press his own political opinions on the Jury) to state that, during the whole of his life he had never given his assent to any proposition tending to change the constitution, as established at the Revolution, either in church or state. He had been born a subject of his late most gracious Majesty; to him, whilst alive, he had paid a subject’s loyal obedience. He was now a subject of his present most gracious Majesty, and the allegiance which he had paid to the father he willingly transferred, as his due to the son.

“To the questions which had lately agitated the country, he had never lent himself for a single moment; on the contrary, he had always opposed, to the utmost of his power, every design of faction and innovation. Thus much he thought it necessary to state in the peculiar situation in which he stood; but making as he had that declaration of his political principles, he also felt, both as a man and as an Englishman, that he had a strong principle to advance and establish in this defence; and he therefore trusted that, if any persons were present who felt an interest in the fate of the prisoner, they would not think that he would relax, in his efforts on his (Thistlewood’s) behalf, on account of the difference of their political opinions. If any thought that he would relax, he was sorry that they should entertain such an opinion of him: he would, however, use every exertion to make a fair defence for the prisoner: if it were not conducted with ability, it would be not from want of intention, but from want of ability, which would be the prisoner’s misfortune as well as his own.

“The learned Counsel then proceeded to observe, that the line of defence which he found it necessary to pursue was the most difficult which it had ever fallen to the lot of an advocate to make good; and he should here be deficient in respect to the good sense and talent of the jury, if he pretended to assert that the prisoner at the bar was perfectly guiltless. He was afraid that it was but too evident that he (Thistlewood) and those with whom he was connected had meditated assassination, a crime which was little less horrible than the commission of it. He did not intend to palliate Thistlewood’s conduct in doing so—far from it: it was a crime not to be palliated: the very blood recoiled from it—the best feelings of human nature revolted against it, and the indignation and execration of society always followed it. Still he thought it possible that Thistlewood, though he might be guilty of murder and the other crimes imputed to him in the various indictments, might not be guilty of high treason. Unless, therefore, he was fully and clearly proved to be so, it was their duty to acquit him; and in so acquitting him, in spite of all the odium and prejudice which surrounded him, they would be doing honour to themselves, and benefit to their posterity.