his making his escape; and that he must be removed to a safer place, unless he would pay for a man to attend him in his room. Oneby was shocked at this news, and asked the keeper's authority for such a proceeding, but could obtain no satisfactory answer.

He was now loaded with irons; and having wrote several letters to the judges, and other persons of distinction, to which he received no answer, he began to be apprehensive that the most serious consequences would result from the crime of which he had been guilty.

The man appointed to attend the major in his room was one John Hooper (who was afterwards executioner), a fellow of remarkable drollery, but of such a forbidding countenance, that, when Oneby first saw him, he exclaimed, What the devil do you bring this fellow here for? Whenever I look at him I shall think of being hanged.' Hooper, however, by a knack of tell. ing stories, soon made himself a very agreeable companion to the major.

At length the judges assembled again at Sergeants' Inn Hall, and, having declared their opinions to each other, the counsel for the prosecution demanded that their lordships would proceed to judgment. Hereupon the sense of the bench was delivered to Mr. Oneby by Lord Raymond, who said that it was the unanimous opinion of the judges that he had been guilty of the murder; and that his declaring he would have the blood' of Gower had great weight in his disfavour.

To this the major solemnly declared that he had never spoken such words, and begged the interposition of the judges with his ma. jesty for a pardon. Lord Raymond told him it was in vain for him to deny the words, as they were re

turned in the special verdict; and that the judges could not interfere by any application to the king, but that he must seek another channel through which to solicit the royal mercy.

A few days after this judgment of death was passed against him, and he was ordered to be executed, His friends and relations exerted all their influence to procure him a pardon; but their intercession proved in vain. For a while he flattered himself that his gambling companions would intercede in his fa vour, and he made application to them accordingly; but none of them interested themselves in any degree to do him service.

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While the major was in confinement an author waited on him, and told him that a pamphlet was written in his disfavour, but that he would exert his best endeavours to put a stop to the publication. It was sup❤ posed that the author's view was to have learnt something from the major that might be inserted in the pamphlet; but, failing to obtain any materials by these means, the book made its appearance in a few days.

This circumstance so inflamed the passions of Oneby, that he said, 'I would die willingly if I could only get an opportunity of being revenged on that rascally ragged author ;' and he actually sent for him several times, with a view to have given him

drubbing; but the writer had more sagacity than to do honour to his invitation.

On the Saturday preceding the day that he was ordered for execution an undertaker went to Newgate, and delivered him a letter, of which the following is a copy, saying that he would wait below for an

Drury Lane, where I have lived many years, and am well known to several of your friends. As you are to die on Monday, and have not, as I suppose, spoke to any body else about your funeral, if your honour shall think fit to give me orders, I will perform it as cheap, and in as decent a manner, as any man alive.

'Your honour's unknown,
'Humble servant,

'G. H.' The major had no sooner read this letter than he flew into a violent passion; which being made known to the undertaker, he thought proper to decamp without waiting for his orders.

When Hooper came at night to attend Mr. Oneby, he told him of the letter he had received from the undertaker; and, in terms very improper for his melancholy situation, expressed his resentment for the supposed affront.

Every hope of pardon being vanished, this unhappy man had recourse to a dreadful method of evading the ignominy of the gallows. On the night of the Saturday last mentioned he went to bed at ten o'clock, and, having slept till four o'clock on Sunday morning, he asked for a glass of brandy and water, and pen, ink, and paper; and, sitting up in the bed, wrote the following note:

'Cousin Turvill,

'Give Mr. Akerman, the turnkey below stairs, half a guinea; and Jack, who waits in my room, five shillings. The poor devils have had a great deal of trouble with me since I have been here.'

Having delivered this note to his attendant, he begged to be left to his repose, that he might be fit for the reception of some friends who were to call on him. He was accordingly left; and a gentleman

coming into his apartment about seven o'clock, and the major's foot. man with him, he called out to the latter, Who is that, Philip?' which were the last words he was heard to speak.

The gentleman, approaching the bed-side, found he had cut a deep wound in his wrist with a penknife, and was drenched in blood. A surgeon was instantly sent for, but he was dead before his arrival.

Mr. Oneby's fatal exit happened in the year 1729, after an imprison-ment of above two years.

What shall we say to the case of this man? We trust that his crimes were such as none of the readers of this work will ever be tempted even to think of being guilty of. To the crime of having committed three murders on others, he at length added that of suicide.

Mr. Oneby was a military officer and though he was acquitted on his trial for the first duel, and not brought to trial for the second, our military men will do well to reflect that the laws of God and nature will consider every duellist as a murderer. No provocation can warrant our taking away the life of a fellowcreature.

But there is an argument that ought to have its full force with every soldier: this is no less than that the military law of our own country is strongly against duelling. The following extract out of the articles of war will speak for itself, and may set our readers right with regard to a subject on which they may not have been properly in. formed:

'Art. XX.-Nor shall any offi. cer or soldier presume to send a challenge to any other officer or soldier to fight a duel, upon pain of being cashiered, if he be an officer, or suffering the severest corporal punishment, if a non-commissioned

officer, or private soldier: And if any officer, or non-commissioned officer, commanding a guard, shall willingly and knowingly suffer any person whatever to go forth to fight, a duel, they shall be punished as above; and all seconds also, and carriers of challenges, shall be taken

as principals, and punished accordingly. Nor shall any officer or soldier upbraid another for refusing a challenge, since according to these our orders, they but do the duty of soldiers, who ought to subject themselves to discipline.'

JOHN Gow was a native of one of the Orkney Islands, in the north of Scotland, and was instructed in maritime affairs, in which he became so expert, that he was appointed second mate of a ship, in which he sailed on a voyage to Santa Cruz.

When the vessel was ready to weigh anchor from the place above mentioned, the merchants who had shipped goods on board her came to pay a parting visit to the cap

VOL. I.

tain, and to give him their final instructions.

On this occasion, the captain, agreeably to custom, entertained his company under an awning on the quarter-deck; and, while they were regaling, some of the sailors preferred a complaint of ill treatment they pretended to have received, particularly with regard to short allowance.

The captain was irritated at so undeserved a charge, which seemed

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calculated to prejudice him in the opinion of his employers: but, conscious of the uprightness of his intentions, he did not reply in anger, only saying that there was a steward on board, who had the care of the provisions, and that all reasonable complaints should be redressed: on which the seamen retired with apparent satisfaction.

The wind being fair, the captain directed his men to weigh anchor as soon as the merchants had quitted the vessel. It was observed that Paterson, one of the complainants, was very dilatory in executing his orders; on which the captain demanded why he did not exert himself to unfurl the sails; to which he made no direct answer, but was heard to mutter, As we eat, so shall we work.' The captain heard this, but took no notice of it, as he was unwilling to proceed to extremities.

The ship had no sooner sailed than the captain considered his situation as dangerous, on reflecting that his conduct had been complained of, and his orders disobeyed. Hereupon he consulted the mate, and they agreed to deposit a number of small-arms in the cabin, in order to defend themselves in case of an attack. This precaution might have been extremely salutary, but that they spoke so loud as to be overheard by two of the conspirators, who were on the quarterdeck.

The captain likewise directed the mate to order Gow, who was second mate and gunner, to clean the arms; a circumstance that must plainly in sinuate to the latter that the conspiracy was at least suspected.

Those who had overheard the conversation between the captain and mate communicated the substance of it to Gow and the other conspirators, who thereupon re

solved to carry their plan into im mediate execution. Gow, who had previously intended to turn pirate, thought the present an admirable opportunity, as there were several chests of money on board the ship: wherefore he proposed to his companions that they should immedi ately embark in the enterprise; and they determined to murder the captain, and seize the ship.

Half of the ship's company were regularly called to prayers in the great cabin at eight o'clock in the evening, while the other half were doing duty on deck; and, after service, those who had been in the cabin went to rest in their hammocks. The contrivance was, to execute the plot at this juncture. Two of the conspirators only remained on duty, the rest being among those who retired to their hammocks.

Between nine and ten at night a kind of watchword was given, which was, Who fires first?' On this some of the conspirators left their hammocks, and, going to the cabins of the surgeon, chief mate, and supercargo, they cut their throats while they were asleep.

The surgeon, finding himself violently wounded, quitted his bed, and soon afterwards dropped on the floor, and expired. The mate and supercargo held their hands on their throats, and, going on the quarterdeck, solicited a momentary res pite, to recommend their souls to Heaven: but even this favour was denied; for the villains, who found their knives had failed to destroy them, dispatched them with pistols.

The captain, hearing a noise, demanded the occasion of it. The

boatswain replied that he did not know; but was apprehensive that some of the men had either fallen, or been thrown, overboard. The captain hereupon went to look over

the ship's side, on which two of the murderers followed, and tried to throw him into the sea; but he disengaged himself, and turned about to take a view of them; when one of them cut his throat, but not so as to kill him. He now solicited mercy; but, instead of granting it, the other stabbed him in the back with a dagger, and would have repeated his blow, but he had struck with such force that he could not draw back the weapon. At this instant Gow, who had been assisting in the murders between the decks, came on the quarter-deck, and fired a brace of balls into the captain's body, which put a period to his life.

The execrable villains concerned in this tragical affair having thrown all the dead bodies overboard, Gow was unanimously appointed to the command of the ship.

Those of the sailors who had not been engaged in the conspiracy secreted themselves, some in the shrouds, some under the stores, in dreadful apprehension of sharing the fate of the captain and their murdered companions.

Gow now assembled his associates on the quarter-deck; and, appointing them their different stations on board, it was agreed to commence pirates. The new cap tain now directed that the men who had concealed themselves should be informed that no danger would happen to them if they did not interfere to oppose the new government of the ship, but kept such stations as were assigned them.

The men, whose fears had taught them to expect immediate death, were glad to comply with these terms; but the pirates, to enforce obedience to their orders, appointed two conspirators to attend with drawn cutlasses, to awe them, if necessary, into submission.

Gow and his companions now divided the most valuable effects in the cabin; and then, ordering liquor to be brought on the quarter-deck, they consumed the night in drinking, while those unconnected in the conspiracy had the care of working the ship.

The ship's crew originally consisted of twenty-four men, of whom four had been murdered, and eight were conspirators; and, before morning, four of the other twelve having approved of the proceedings of the pirates, there were only eight remaining in any kind of opposition to the usurped authority.

On the following day the new captain summoned these eight to attend him, and, telling them he was determined to go on a cruising voyage, said that they should be well treated if they were disposed to act in concert with the rest of the crew. He observed that every man should fare in the same manner, and that good order and discipline was all that would be required. He said further that the late captain's inhumanity had produced the consequences which had happened: that those who had not been concerned in the conspiracy had no reason to fear any ill resulting from it: that they had only to discharge their duty as seamen, and every man should be rewarded according to his merit.

To this address these unfortunate honest men made no kind of reply; and Gow interpreted their silence into an assent to measures which it was not in their power to oppose. After this declaration of the will of the new captain they were per mitted to range the ship at pleasure; but, as some of them appeared to act very reluctantly, a strict eye was kept on their conduct; for, guilt being ever suspicious, the pirates were greatly apprehensive of being