Chapter 24 of 29 · 3957 words · ~20 min read

Part 24

“I am persuaded, that at this late hour of the night, fatigued as I necessarily must be in passing through so arduous a service, some observations must have escaped me, and those which have occurred to me I have not pressed with that force which the occasion demands at my hands, but I have one consolation in the assistance of my learned friend, who will soon follow me, and supply my defects; or even if he should fail in doing that, we have this further consolation, that everything that can be urged in favour of the prisoner will be stated by the noble and learned judge. Any defect of mine he will supply, any inaccuracy he will correct. I have only to remind you, that you are sitting in a British court of justice. It is one of the maxims of the country in which we live—that maxim upon which everything dear and valuable depends—that you are to administer justice in mercy. You are sitting in a court of justice, which is a member of the government of a free people; you will remember that it is one of the principles of freedom, that men are not to be compelled to an adherence to the government by terror, but to be attached to its laws by love. I am perfectly persuaded, therefore, that if you should agree with me presently in saying this case is not made out, and it is not to be made out by conjecture, you are not to condemn unless all idea of innocence be completely extinguished by the weight of the evidence that has been produced upon the cause,—I say, if you should agree with me in saying you do not see satisfactory grounds for delivering over this gentleman to that horrid death to which you assign him if you pronounce him guilty, a verdict of acquittal will have a greater effect than a verdict of guilty. Gentlemen, I say we are attached to our constitution and laws by love, and are not bound to adhere to them by fear; that love must necessarily be increased by such a circumstance as this, that after so many hours of trial, by so respectable a jury, men of consideration and consequence in the country, this gentleman, after the attack which has been made upon him, is delivered from it by your verdict. I am persuaded that, if there are any deluded persons in this country who fancy we have not attained that degree of perfect freedom which is capable of being attained, though I should hope what has lately passed would operate completely to remove that delusion, nothing will so completely satisfy them of their mistake as a verdict pronounced by you of not guilty, to-night. They will know, that when a subject is attacked by a prosecution not made out by fair and clear evidence, he is sure of protection in the uprightness and integrity of the judge, and the mercy of the jury who try the cause. They will learn that true freedom consists in the just and humane administration of law, and will observe and cherish the laws they find to be so administered. I at one time intended to offer evidence in contradiction of these witnesses, but if I have shown them accomplices, and that the case is only proved by their evidence, I have shown them unworthy of contradiction, and the attempt could only serve to increase the fatigue you have already undergone; but I shall offer most material evidence: I shall offer evidence of the character of this gentleman. If courts of justice are intended to correct the morals and confirm the virtuous inclination of those who attend them—which is one great object of their institution—they cannot do it more effectually than by paying attention to the evidence of good character; it is telling a man that if, by the tenor of his life, he shall acquire a good character, it shall afford him a shield in a court of justice in the day of trial. The evidence of character must have effect in another point of view. The Attorney-General has said every man is to be supposed innocent till proved guilty. It is much less likely that a man who has maintained a good character should become on a sudden the vilest of men, _nemo repente fit turpissimus_, than that one who has appeared less correct should become criminal. I say, if this gentleman has borne a good character, which I shall show he has, that the case attempted to be made out against him is most improbable. One would almost believe that the stream should set back upon the fountain, than that a man who has deserved well of his country should concur with such miserable persons as you have heard to-day, in one of the most miserable conspiracies for treason that I ever heard of. I have too good an opinion of the loyalty of the country to give credit to this story. If the case is made out, it is a most detestable and abominable treason. If the case is made out, no man but would with satisfaction see the sentence of the law executed; but remember the maxim of the Attorney-General, that, in proportion as the crime is enormous, so ought the proof to be clear. Gentlemen, I beg your pardon for troubling you at such a length at this time of night.”

Serjeant Best, confining his evidence for the prisoner to witnesses for character, called, as a leading witness, no less a personage than Vice-Admiral Horatio, Lord Viscount Nelson, K.B., who was examined by Mr. Gurney as follows:—

How long has your lordship known Colonel Despard?—It is twenty-three years since I saw him; I became acquainted with him in the year 1779, at Jamaica. He was, at that time, lieutenant in what were called the Liverpool Blues. From his abilities as an engineer, I know he was expected to be appointed——

Lord Ellenborough.—I am sorry to be obliged to interrupt your lordship; but we cannot hear what I dare say your lordship would give with great effect, the history of this gentleman’s military life, but you will state what has been his general character?

To this Lord Nelson answered:—We went on the Spanish Main together; we slept many nights together in our clothes upon the ground; we have measured the heights of the enemy’s wall together. In all that period of time, no man could have shown more zealous attachment to his sovereign and his country than Colonel Despard did. I formed the highest opinion of him, at that time, as a man and an officer, seeing him so willing in the service of his sovereign. Having lost sight of him for the last twenty-three years, if I had been asked my opinion of him, I should have said, “If he is alive, he is certainly one of the brightest ornaments of the British Army.”

Vice-Admiral Lord Nelson was thus cross-examined by Mr. Attorney-General:—

What your lordship has been stating was in the years 1779 and 1780?—Yes.

Have you had much intercourse with Colonel Despard since that time?—I have never seen him since the 29th of April, 1780.

Then as to his loyalty for the last twenty-three years of his life your lordship knows nothing?—Nothing.

Two other distinguished witnesses spoke in favour of the character of the Colonel—viz., Sir Edward Clark, at one time Governor of Jamaica, who had known the Colonel for many years up to 1790, and Sir Evan Nepean, Bart., Secretary to the Admiralty, who had been intimate with him from 1784 until almost up to the time of the trial. “I had,” said Sir Evan, “so high an opinion of him, that I invited him to my house. I considered him a loyal man.”

Mr. Gurney spoke to evidence in behalf of the prisoner, and endeavoured to invalidate the testimony of the witnesses; his peroration was eloquent.

“Before I sit down,” said he, “I must entreat your serious attention to one observation more. There have been many cases in the history of the criminal jurisprudence of this country, which should impress caution on the minds of jurymen: many in cases of other crimes; many in cases of treason. How many innocent men have died in consequence of the credulity of jurors? I will refer you only to the supposed Popish plot in the reign of Charles II., for which as many men as are indicted here suffered unjustly; the juries by which they were tried being deceived by the hard swearing of witnesses, not more infamous than those whom you have heard to-day: and yet those juries were countenanced by the whole nation, the two Houses of Parliament leading the way. So firm and general was the belief of that plot, that to dispute or doubt its existence was deemed a mark of disaffection to the Protestant cause. In a short time the veil was torn off: the perjury, which had triumphed, was discovered to be perjury, but it was too late; the dead could not be recalled from the grave; and the jurors who had sent them there were left to the bitter reflections of their consciences,—to the unavailing lamentation of their credulity. But, though these persons died _unjustly_, I trust they did not die _in vain_. Their innocent blood speaks aloud to you not to follow the fatal example of your predecessors; not to lend, as they did, too easy faith to the testimony of wicked men. May you attend to the warning voice, and pronounce a verdict of acquittal, of which, I trust, you will never have reason to repent.”

Colonel Despard declined saying anything in his own behalf.

The Solicitor-General replied on the part of the Crown, after which Lord Ellenborough summed up, and stated the nature of overt acts; he read, _verbatim_, the whole of the evidence, commenting, as he proceeded, on the most striking parts.

The jury withdrew at about twenty minutes after two o’clock on the Tuesday morning to consider their verdict; they returned into court in about twenty-five minutes with a verdict finding the prisoner—Guilty.

The foreman added, “My lord, we most earnestly recommend the prisoner to mercy on account of the high testimonials to his former good character and eminent services.”

At three o’clock the court adjourned to nine o’clock on Wednesday morning, when it again met, and the trial of John Wood, Thomas Broughton, John Francis, Thomas Phillips, Thomas Newman, Daniel Tyndall, John Doyle, James Sedgwick Wratten, William Lander, Arthur Graham, Samuel Smith, and John Macnamara, commenced and lasted till near eight o’clock the next morning, when the jury found John Wood, Thomas Broughton, John Francis, Thomas Newman, Daniel Tyndall, James Sedgwick Wratten, William Lander, Arthur Graham, and John Macnamara, guilty.

After which Edward Marcus Despard, John Wood, Thomas Broughton, John Francis, Thomas Newman, Daniel Tyndall, James Sedgwick Wratten, William Lander, Arthur Graham, and John Macnamara, were set to the bar.

Lord Ellenborough then passed sentence of death upon the prisoners in a rather high-flown speech. After describing in the strongest manner the enormity of the crime of which they had been convicted, and observing that such vile purposes, however zealously begun, generally terminated in schemes of treachery against each other, he then proceeded:—

“With respect to the wicked contrivers of abortive treason now before me, it only remains for me to acquit myself of my last official duty. As for you, Colonel Despard, born, as you were, to better hopes, and educated to nobler ends and purposes; accustomed as you have hitherto been to a different life and manners, and pursuing with your former illustrious companions, who have appeared on your trial, the paths of virtuous and loyal ambition,—it is with the most sensible pain I view the contrast formed by your present degraded condition, and I will not now point out how much these considerations enhance the nature of your crime. I entreat of you, by those hopes of mercy which are closed in this world, to revive in your mind a purpose to subdue that callous insensibility of heart, of which, in an ill-fated hour, you have boasted, and regain that sanative affection of the mind which may prepare your soul for that salvation which, by the infinite mercy of God, I beseech of that God you may obtain. As to you (naming the other convicts), sad victims of his seduction and example, and of your own wicked purposes; you who fall a melancholy, but, I trust, an instructive, sacrifice, to deter others from the commission of similar crimes, may you apply the little time you have to live in the repentant contemplation of another world. Warned by your example, may the ignorant and unthinking avoid those crimes which bring you to a shameful and untimely end! May they learn duly to estimate the humble but secure blessings of industry—blessings which, in an evil hour, you have cast from you! The same recommendation offered to the leader of your crimes, to prepare for the awful and near termination of your existence, I earnestly impress upon you; and I repeat for you my ardent invocation of mercy in a future state which the interest of your fellow-creatures will not suffer to be extended to you here. The only thing now remaining for me is the painful task of pronouncing against you, and each of you, the awful sentence which the law denounces against your crime, which is, that you, and each of you, (here his lordship named the prisoners severally) be taken to the place from whence you came, and from thence you are to be drawn on hurdles to the place of execution, where you are to be hanged by the neck, but not until you are dead; for, while you are still living, your bodies are to be taken down, your bowels torn out, and burnt before your faces; your heads are to be then cut off, and your bodies divided each into four quarters, to be at the king’s disposal; and may the Almighty God have mercy on your souls.”

The whole of this sentence, which, as the punishment of treason, disgraced our law even to a late period (until altered by the 54 George III., c. 146), was too disgusting and cruel to be completely carried out. The warrant which directed the execution of the unfortunate Despard and his associates remitted the disembowelling and quartering. This warrant was sent to the keeper of the new (Horsemonger Lane) gaol in the Borough at six o’clock on Saturday evening, Feb. 19, and included seven prisoners; three—Newman, Tyndall, and Lander—having been respited. As soon as the warrant, which ordered the execution for the following Monday, was received, it was communicated to the unhappy persons by the keeper of the prison, Mr. Ives, with as much tenderness and humanity as the awful nature of the case required. Colonel Despard observed that the time was short; yet he had not had from the first any strong expectation that the recommendation of the jury would be effectual. The mediation of Lord Nelson and a petition to the Crown were tried; but Colonel Despard was convinced, according to report, that they would be unavailing. Soon after the arrival of the warrant all papers, and everything he possessed, were immediately taken from the colonel. The colonel’s devoted wife, a lady of Honduras, whom he had married while in his command there, was fearfully affected when she first heard his doom was sealed, but afterwards recovered her fortitude. The colonel and Mrs. Despard supported themselves with great firmness at parting on the Saturday; and when she got into the coach that drove her away she waved her handkerchief out of the window. The other prisoners bore their sad lot with equal fortitude, but conducted themselves with less solemnity than the colonel. Their wives and near relatives were allowed to take a farewell of them on the same day; and the scene was truly distressing.

At daylight on Sunday morning, the drop, scaffold, and gallows, on which they were to be executed were erected oh the top of the gaol. The Bow Street patrol and many other peace officers were on duty all day and night, and the military near London were drawn up close to the prison. Mrs. Despard took final leave of her husband at three in the afternoon, yet came again at five o’clock, but it was thought advisable to spare the colonel the pang of a second parting, and she was, therefore, not admitted into his cell. She evinced some indignation, and expressed a strong opinion with respect to the cause for which her husband was to suffer. After she had left the colonel at three o’clock, he walked up and down his cell for some time, seemingly more agitated than he had been at the actual moment of taking leave of her. Between six and seven in the evening he threw himself on the bed, and fell into a short sleep. At eight he awoke and addressed one of the officers of the prison, who was with him, in these words:—“Me—they shall receive no information from me; no, not for all the gifts, the gold, and jewels, in the possession of the Crown!” He then composed himself, and remained silent. Seven shells or coffins to receive the bodies, were brought into the prison, and also two large bags filled with sawdust, and the block on which they were to be beheaded. At four o’clock the next morning, February 21, the drum beat at the Horse Guards as a signal for the troops to assemble. In fact, the military force present on the occasion, like every other proceeding of Government in this affair, was most imposing. At six o’clock the Life-guards arrived, and took their station at the end of the different roads at the Obelisk, in St. George’s Fields; whilst all the officers from Bow Street, Queen’s Square, Marlborough Street, Hatton Garden, Worship Street, Whitechapel, Shadwell, and other localities attended. There were parties of the Life-guards riding up and down the roads. At half-past six the prison bell rang—the signal for unlocking the cells. At seven o’clock five of the men—Broughton, Francis, Graham, Wood, and Wratten—went into the chapel, with the Rev. Mr. Winkworth. Macnamara, being of another persuasion, and Despard, being in his craziness an infidel, did not join them. The five attended to the prayers with great earnestness, but at the same time without seeming to lose that firmness they had displayed since their trial. Before they received the sacrament, four of them confessed they had done wrong, but not to the extent charged against them by the evidence. The fifth, Graham, said he was innocent of the charges brought against him, but had attended two meetings at the instigation of Francis. For some time the clergyman refused to administer the sacrament to Francis, because he persisted in declaring he had been guilty of no crime. The clergyman said to him, “You admit you attended the meetings.” He replied, “Yes.” “You knew they were for the purpose of overturning the constitution of the country. I by no means wish you to enter into particulars, I only wish you to acknowledge generally.” Francis answered, “I admit I have done wrong in attending those meetings.” The clergyman then asked each of them how they found themselves? Francis, Wood, Broughton, and Wratten said, “They were never happier in their lives.” Graham remained silent. The sacrament was administered to them all.

Colonel Despard and Macnamara were then brought down from their cells, their irons knocked off, and their arms bound with ropes. The sheriff asked Colonel Despard if he could render him any service. The colonel thanked him, and replied that he could not. Upon the colonel coming out, he shook hands very cordially with his solicitor, and returned him many thanks for his kind attention; then, observing the sledge and apparatus, he smilingly cried out, “Ha! ha! what nonsensical mummery is this?” Notice being given that all was ready, the colonel, who stood the first, retired behind, and mentioned to Francis, who was making way for him, to go before him. The hurdle, being a body of a small cart, on which two trusses of clean straw were laid, was drawn by two horses.

When the melancholy procession began, which was at half-past eight o’clock precisely, Macnamara was the first that came out. Colonel Despard was the last that appeared. He was dressed in a blue double-breasted coat, with gilt buttons; cream-coloured waistcoat, with narrow gold-lace binding; a flannel inside vest, with scarlet top turned over; grey breeches, long boots, and a brown surtout. He stepped into the hurdle with much fortitude, having an executioner on the right and on the left, and on the same seat, with drawn cutlasses. He was thus conducted to the outer lodge, whence he ascended the staircase leading to the place of execution.

As soon as the prisoners were placed on the hurdle, St. George’s bell tolled for some time. They were preceded by the Sheriff, Sir R. Ford, the Protestant clergyman, the Rev. Mr. Winkworth, and a Catholic clergyman, the Rev. Mr. Griffith, who attended Macnamara, who was a Catholic. The coffins, or shells, which had been previously placed in a room under the scaffold, were then brought up and put on the platform on which the drop was erected; the bags of sawdust to catch the blood when the heads were severed from the bodies were laid beside them. The block was near the scaffold; there were about a hundred spectators on the platform, among whom were some persons of distinction; the greatest order was observed. Macnamara was the first on the platform, and when the cord was placed round his neck he exclaimed, “Lord Jesus, have mercy upon me! O Lord, look down with pity upon me!” The populace were much struck by his appearance. Graham came second: he looked pale and ghastly, but spoke not. Wratten was the third: he ascended the scaffold with much firmness. Broughton, the fourth, joined in prayer with much earnestness. Wood was the fifth, and Francis the sixth. They were all equally composed.

Colonel Despard ascended the scaffold with great firmness, and his countenance underwent not the slightest change while the dread ceremony of fastening the rope round his neck and placing the cap on his head was performing; he even assisted the executioner in adjusting the rope: he looked at the multitude assembled with perfect calmness. The Protestant clergyman, who came upon the scaffold after the prisoners were tied up, spoke to him a few words as he passed; the Colonel bowed and thanked him. The ceremony of fastening the prisoners being finished, the colonel advanced as near as he could to the edge of the scaffold, and made the following speech to the multitude:—

“Fellow Citizens,—I come here, as you see, after having served my country—faithfully, honourably, and usefully served it for thirty years and upwards—to suffer death upon a scaffold for a crime of which I protest I am not guilty. I solemnly declare that I am no more guilty of it than any of you who may be now hearing me. But though his Majesty’s ministers know as well as I do that I am not guilty, yet they avail themselves of a legal pretext to destroy a man because he has been a friend to truth, to liberty, and justice.”

There was a considerable huzza from part of the populace the nearest to him, but who, from the height of the scaffold from the ground, could not, for a certainty, distinctly hear what was said. The colonel proceeded: