Trivett—On Sunday the 18th of January last, I was at a public meeting in the rope-walk; I heard a noise of people cried, Damn ye, stand off, or else we will knock your brains out; I stepped up, and asked what right they had to carry a man along after that manner? I followed them: their answer was, it was a midshipman who had committed murder, and they were taking him down to the ship to do him justice; other people likewise followed, enquiring what was the matter the gentleman was behind, and ordered them to make more haste.
Vernon—Look upon the prisoner at the bar, Mr. Goodere; is that the gentleman that ordered them to make more haste?
Trivett—I believe that is the man, my lord. On the gentleman's ordering them to make more haste, five or six of them caught him up in their arms, and carried him along; and as they were got down about the corner of Mr. Brown's wall, he insisted upon their making more dispatch, and then they hurried him as far as captain Osborn's dock. By that time his clothes were ruffled and shoved up to his arm-pits; they put him down, and settled his clothes, and then I saw his face, and knew him to be sir John Dineley: he cried out murder several times, and said, they were taking him on board to kill him, he believed. As they were going with him along, he cried out to Mrs. Darby, For God's sake assist me, they are going to murder me. I told Mrs. Darby it was sir John Dineley: she said she knew him; the cloak was then over his face. As they got him further, he called out to a little girl, to get somebody to assist him, for they were going to murder him. They pushed him along to Mrs. New's house, and made a little stop there, and then they brought him to the water-side, where was a boat; they put out a plank with ledges nailed across: he was ordered to go on board the boat; they got him on board, and put him to sit down in the stern-sheet: then he cried out, For God's sake, gentlemen, if any of you know Mr. Jarrit Smith in the College-green, tell him my name is sir John Dineley. One of the men put his cloak and covered him, and before he could say any more, that gentleman (pointing to the prisoner Goodere) took his hand and put it on his mouth, and would not let him speak any further, and ordered the boat to be pushed off, which was done; and the tide making up strong, the boat got almost to the other side. I heard that gentleman (pointing as before) say, Have you not given the rogues of lawyers money enough already? Do you want to give them more? I will take care that they shall never have any more of you; now I'll take care of you.
The Recorder—Prisoners, will either of you ask this witness any questions?
Goodere—No, I never saw the man before in my life.
Thomas Charmsbury, sworn.
Charmsbury—On Sunday the 18th of January last, between the hours of four and five in the afternoon, I was on board the ship called the Levant, lying in Mr. Thompson's dock; I heard a noise coming over the bridge of the dock, and I saw a man in a scarlet cloak, and a parcel of people, some before and some behind, guarding of him, and he made a noise. I went towards them, to see what was the matter, and at Mr. Stephen Perry's counting-house (they rested) I asked, what was the matter? They said, he had killed a man on board a man-of-war; that he had run away; and they had had him before a magistrate, and he was ordered on board the king's ship to be carried round to London to take his trial. Mr. Perry (on hearing the noise) came out and saw him; says Mr. Perry, Gentlemen, do you know what you are about? I would not be in your coats for a thousand pounds, for it is 'squire Goodere. They threatened to knock down any that should come near; a fellow, I take him to be Mahony, came up to me, and threatened to knock me down several times. They took and carried him as far as captain James Day's lofts and warehouse, where he keeps his hemp; and there they rested him again, and threatened to knock down any that should come near them. Then said Mahony, Damn ye, here comes the captain. Immediately I turned about, and saw a gentleman with his cane poised in one hand, and his sword in the other; he had a dark shag coat and yellow buttons, whom I take to be that gentleman the prisoner at the bar. They took up the man in the scarlet cloak again, and carried him so far as coming out from the lower College-green into the rope-walk: the prisoner Goodere came up to them and ordered them to mend their pace; they took him up again, and carried him as far as Brown's garden, at the lower end of the rope-walk, as fast as they could well carry him, where they settled his clothes, and in the meanwhile the prisoner Goodere came up to them again, and ordered them to mend their pace. With much difficulty they got him between the gate and stile, and carried him as far as the warehouse at the corner of the glass-house, there they rested and settled his clothes again; then they took him up, and carried him down to the Lime-kilns, as far as the lower part of the wall below madam New's; and then brought him down to a place opposite to the King's-head, and then they put him on board a boat (I take it the man-of-war's barge) having ten oars, and they handed him in. After, the prisoner Goodere went into the boat after him, and set sir John on the starboard-side, and the prisoner Goodere on the larboard-side; then sir John cried out, Murder! you gentlemen that are on shore, pray tell Mr. Jarrit Smith that my name is Dineley, and before he could say Goodere the gentleman took up the flap of the cloak, threw it over the face of sir John, and stopped his mouth; and says he, I will take care of you, that you shall not spend your estate; and ordered the barge to be put off; and then he took the gentleman's cloak from his shoulders, and put it on his own.
The Recorder—Who was it that stopped his mouth with his cloak?
Charmsbury—That gentleman the prisoner at the bar. The boat was so full, had so many people in it, that they were obliged to row but with eight oars: and when they proceeded down the river, it being about three quarters flood, and the gentleman continually crying out, they went out of sight, and I saw no more of them.
Mrs. Darby, who lived at the limekilns, saw Sir John forced along between two men; he was crying out, Murder, murder! for the Lord's sake save me, save me, for they are going to kill me. She knew Sir John very well; she had mended his chair for him last summer; she was told that the gentleman at the bar was the captain of the man-of-war; he was dressed in a dark drab-coloured coat, and his waistcoat was trimmed with gold. She heard Sir John cry out something as he was being hurried into the boat, but she could not hear what.