Sir William Addington.—“Then, Sir, send for it in the state you left it.”
The answer was, ‘I do not recollect where I put it.’
Sir W. A.—“But after you had quitted Buckingham-house, admitting you had been there, how came you in that part of the Park where this soldier was stationed?”
‘I intended to have gone through the stable yard, but having missed it, I thought of going out at the Priory-gate.’
Sir W. A.—“Then why did you not go out there? for this soldier’s box was considerably beyond that place!”—
Here a respectable gentleman of the profession came in, and very judiciously put an end to the examination, by entering into a recognizance for his client’s appearance: to whom the magistrate observed, he never heard so clear a case of guilt, even from the defendant’s own account.
Previous to the ensuing Westminster sessions Cope was sent on the Windsor duty; whether by collusion, or by the common routine of duty never transpired, further than strong suspicion upon the case. However, from either Cause, Cope, if he had possessed the ability of following up his charge by an indictment, had no opportunity; and, of course, there the matter of complaint ended. But the dreadful wretch, not content with his good fortune in escaping the Pillory, in order to cleanse his pestiferous character, indicted Cope for falsely, maliciously, and diabolically charging him with an attempt to commit an unnatural crime.—Thunderstruck, when I heard of the audacious attempt to legalize such an atrocious offence, I went, in company with Mr. Bond, to hear the trial, if a trial it could be called:—but, to get rid of the odious and painful relation, it is only necessary to add, the poor ill-fated fellow was convicted, upon the testimony of the vile old Sodomite; and, if my memory is correct, the sentence of the Court was, that he should be confined in Tothill-fields Bridewell for five years, and stand in the Pillory once every year during that time. I may not be correct as to the number of times he stood in the Pillory, but I know it was more than once.
When this phenomenon of a trial was ended, Mr. Bond, the magistrate, and myself walked out of the court together, who exclaimed—“what do you think of this conviction?” To which I answered, I think as you do, that the jury ought to be taken out of the box, and hanged at the hall door. However, what can be said? but, alas, poor human nature! judges are but men, and juries subject to fallability! It may be supposed, that the prosecutor received every assistance that could be had: the late Mr. Bearcroft appeared, to give him a character: a character for what?—why, that he paid his debts, and that he would not pick a pocket; and that he was never accused of committing a rape! which seems to be the amount of character in every case, where a wretch is either prosecutor or defendant on similar occasions. However, we will now come to the touch-stone, which will, in a great measure, decide the purity of this old lecher’s character. It seems the horrid sacrifice made to purify his reputation, was not, in the opinion of sensible and discerning men, perfectly satisfactory, whether his penchant for breeches was not paramount to his affection for petticoats? And even Mr. Bearcroft was not without a slender portion of scepticism on the subject: for he remarked, in a company where some doubts were entertained which of the two ought to have been put in the pillory, Cope, or his prosecutor, “D—n the fellow! now I think of it, I never remember his having a girl at college!”—But, to put all doubts at rest, respecting this diabolical wretches’ guilt, it is only necessary to state, that he retired into the country, and attacked a farmer’s son; who seized, and took him before a magistrate, when he gave bail: but, foreseeing that he had a man to deal with who was under no military command, nor subject to any impediment for want of money, and too inflexible for any chance of being diverted from his steady purpose of prosecution, be wisely withdrew himself from England—to which place he has never returned.
I shall now conclude my observations on these hedious transactions with a relation of the unexampled oppression that Cook and his wife have been the objects of. With respect to his wife, she could not have participated in any transactions of her husband; she did not live in the odious house, or even visit it; and, therefore, her sufferings are not warranted by any plea:—and, indeed, whatever the man’s offences might be, he has most amply purged himself from all the criminal effects of it; and is surely entitled to the protection of the same law to guard his innocence, that was exerted to punish his offence. That I may be clearly understood in what I deem acts of oppression, I must state the ground that gave pretence to the proceedings against him.
The reader will recollect that Cook had been desirous of making a disclosure of the transactions for which he, and the others were convicted, with the names and rank in life of a great number of persons implicated; not only at his own house, but at many others, both private and public, the common depots of organized Sodomites; and having been defeated of this intention at the Secretary of State’s office, published the following Prospectus, in the form of a handbill, and distributed them among his customers, both noble and ignoble.