examined for and against the prose cution. The prisoner being now called on for his defence, his counsel insisted that the magistrates had ordered him to support the execution of Wilson, and repel force by force, being apprehensive of a rescue; that powder and ball had been given them for the said purpose, with or ders to load their pieces. They insisted, also, that he only meant to intimidate the people by threats, and actually knocked down one of his own men for presenting his piece; that, finding the men. would not obey orders, he drew off as many as he could; that he afterwards heard a firing in the rear, contrary to his directions. That, in order to know who had fired, he would not suffer their pieces to be cleaned till properly inspected; and that he never attempted to escape, though he had the greatest opportunity, and might have effected it with the utmost ease. They farther insisted, that, admitting some excesses had been committed, it could not amount to murder, as he was in the lawful discharge of his duty; neither could it be supposed to be done with premeditated malice. In answer to this the counsel for the crown argued, that the trust reposed in the prisoner ceased when the execution was over; that he was then no longer an officer employed for that purpose for which the fire-arms had been loaded; and that the reading of the Riot Act only could justify their firing, in case a rescue had been actually attempted. The prisoner's counsel replied, that the magistrates, whose duty it was to have read the act, had deserted the soldiery, and taken refuge in a house for their own security; and that it was hard for men to suffer themselves to be knocked on the head when they had lawful weapons put into their hands to defend themselves. The charge being delivered to the jury, they retired for a consider. able time, when they brought him in guilty, and he received sentence of death. The king being then at Hanover, and much interest being made to save the prisoner, the queen, by the advice of her council, granted a respite till his majesty's return to England. The respite was only procured one week before his sentence was to be put in execution, of which when the populace were informed, such a scheme of revenge was meditated as is perhaps unprecedented. On the 7th of September, between nine and ten in the evening, a large body of men entered the city of Edinburgh, and seized the arms belonging to the guard: they then patrolled the streets, crying out, All those who dare avenge innocent blood, let them come here.' They then shut the gates, and placed guards at each. The main body of the mob, all disguised, marched in the mean time to the prison; when, finding some difficulty in breaking open the door with hammers, they immediately set fire to it, taking great care that the flames should not extend beyond their proper bounds. The outer door was hardly consumed before they rushed in, and, ordering the keeper to open the door of the captain's apartment, cried out, 'Where is the villain, Porteous?' He replied, Here I am; what do you want with me?' To which they answered, that they meant to hang him in the Grass-market, the place where he had shed so much innocent blood. His expostulations were all in vain; they seized him by the legs and arms, and dragged him instantly to the place of execution. On their arrival they broke open a shop, to find a rope suitable to their purpose, which they immediately fixed round his neck; then, throwing the other end over a dyer's pole, hoisted him up; when he, endeavouring to save himself, fixed his hands between the halter and his neck, which being observed by some of the mob, one of them struck him with an axe, and this obliging him to quit his hold, they soon put an end to his life. When they were satisfied he was dead, they immediately dispersed to their several habitations, unmolested themselves, and without molesting any one else. Upon this circumstance being made known, a royal proclamation was issued, offering a large reward for the apprehension of the offenders; and the magistrates of Edinburgh, the scene of the murder, were summoned to answer for their neglect in not quelling the riot, fined, and rendered incapable of acting again in any judicial ca. pacity. In such a mob as that which seized Porteous, it was diffi. cult to fix upon individuals; and the deceased having rendered himself very obnoxious to the whole people, the affair there rested. His Thus ended the life of Captain John Porteous, a man possessed of qualifications which, had they been properly applied, would have rendered him an ornament to his country, and made him exceedingly use. ful in a military capacity. uncommon spirit and invincible courage would have done honour to the greatest hero of antiquity; but, when advanced to power, he became intoxicated with pride, and, instead of being the admiration of, he became despised and hated by, his fellow-citizens. The fate of this unhappy man, it is hoped, will be a caution to those in power not to abuse it; but, by an impartial distribution of justice, to render themselves worthy members of society. He was put to death at Edin. burgh, September 7, 1736. JOHN COLLINS, EXECUTED FOR MURDER. THIS man of blood lived in a village called Harledown, near Exeter, and was by trade a thatcher. He had kept company with a young woman named Jane Upcot, and who received his addresses, which appeared to be honorably offered. The account of the circumstances which led to the shocking cata. strophe we have to relate does not disclose the motive for which the devil worked him up to put to death the object of his love. It was proved that on the 16th of May, 1737, the villain murdered this Jane Upcot. He afterwards, not glutted with shedding her blood, actually cut off the head from the body, tore out the heart, and stuck them on a spar-hook, with which he had killed her; and then, fixing the instrument near the decollated body, left the horrid spectacle to the view of the passing traveller!!! Nature sickens at the recital-let us therefore pass to some less inbuman malefactor: this man deserved a severer death than the gallows. He was executed at Exeter, in the year 1737. JOHN TOTTERDALE, EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF HIS WIFE. THIS malefactor, who was a native of North Currey, in Somersetshire, after having been employed in the business of agriculture, came to London about the time that he had arrived at years of maturity, and lived in several families as a servant, maintaining always a reputable character. Having saved some money in service, he married, and took a public house in the parish of St. John, Westminster, where he perpetrated the murder which cost him his life. Coming home one evening somewhat intoxicated, he sat down to drink with two women who were in a room with his wife. Mrs. Totterdale quitting the room, her husband soon followed her, with a knife and fork in his hand; shortly after which the cry of murder was heard, when Daniel Brown, who lodged in the house, running up stairs, saw Totterdale stamp on his wife two or three times as she lay on the floor. On this Brown seized the knife and fork, which Totterdale still held in his hand; and, having got the woman into another room, she locked it, and he persuaded the husband to go down stairs. Soon afterwards, Totterdale's passion increasing, he procured a key, with which he opened the door: his wife was sitting at the foot of a bed, with the curtains drawn to hide her, so that he did not at first observe where she was; on which Brown waved his hand, intimating that she should retire; but she did not, being either afraid, or unable, to move; and the husband discovering her, a few words passed between them, when he kicked her, caught hold of her feet, dragged her off the bed, and threw her down about seven of the stairs, where she lay senseless. Terrified at this sight, Brown ran into his own room, where he staid three or four minutes, and then going down the stairs, found that Totterdale had dragged his wife into a room, and fastened the door; but Brown heard her say, For Christ's sake, Johnny! Johnny, for Christ's sake, don't kill me!' Mr. Brown then went out, but found the woman dead when he returned at the end of about an hour and a half. The husband was now taken into custody; and the body of the deceased being examined by a surgeon, he found that nine of her ribs were broken, and that her right arm was stabbed in the joint, to the depth of four inches. Totterdale, being committed to the Gatehouse, was visited by his wife's sister, who said to him, 'O John! John! how could you be so barbarous as to murder your poor wife?' In answer to which he said, The devil overpowered me; I was pushed on by the devil both to begin and finish the deed: I cannot recall or undo what I have done; but I wish I could bring back my poor, unhappy, unprepared wife from the grave again.' Some of his acquaintance asking him why he did not attempt to make his escape after he had committed the murder, he replied that he had an intention of so doing; but, as he was going out of the room, he imagined he heard a voice saying, John, John, stay-What have you done? You cannot go off:' which supposed words deprived him of all possibility of effecting his escape. Being brought to his trial at the Old Bailey, the evidence against him was so clear that the jury did not hesitate to find him guilty, in consequence of which he was sentenced to die. After conviction he declared that he had no fear of the disgraceful death that awaited him, and that he would willingly suffer any degree of torture, as an atonement for the erime of which he had been guilty. On being told that his name was included in the warrant for execution, he replied, The Lord's will be done! I am ready to die; I am willing to die; only I beg of God that I may not (though I deserve it) die an eternal death: and, though I am cut off from this world for my heinous offences, yet I hope it is not impossible that I should live for ever in a better state. I have been guilty of the unnatural murder of my poor wife: the Lord be more merciful to me than I was to her, or else I perish!' He added, that he hoped those who had received injuries from him would forgive him, as he freely forgave those by whom he had been injured. Totterdale found a generous friend in Mr. Paul, a brewer, who had served him with beer while in trade; and who, while in prison, supplied him with the necessaries of life. He likewise provided for his two children, and took care to see the unhappy man buried by the side of his wife, agreeably to an earnest request he made in a letter written the day before his execution. The behaviour of this wretched man after conviction, and at the place of his death, was decent, devout, and resigned, in a high degree. He appeared to be a sincere penitent; and admonished others not to indulge that violence of passion which had ended in his destruction. He was executed at Tyburn, Oct. 5, 1737. THOMAS CARR AND ELIZABETH ADAMS, EXECUTED FOR ROBBERY. THOMAS CARR, when he committed the robbery for which he suffered, was an attorney-at-law, of eminence, in the Temple; and Elizabeth Adams a woman with whom he cohabited. He had been many years vestry-clerk of the parish of St. Paul, Covent Gardena very respectable office. On the 15th of October, 1737, they were indicted at the Old Bailey for robbing William Quarrington of ninety-three guineas and a diamond ring, at the Angel and Crown tavern, near Temple Bar; upon which they were found guilty, and sentence of death passed on them. Carr endeavoured to obtain the royal mercy; but the Privy Council replied, That a flagrant breach of the law was greatly aggravated in being committed by a man professing the law.' On the 18th of January, 1738, thirteen miserable beings were carried from Newgate to Tyburn, there to suffer death for different offences; and among them were Carr and Adams, each in a mourning-coach. They both received the sacrament on the Sunday preceding; and then, and at the place of execution, denied the fact for which they suffered. They were both remarkably composed, for people in their dreadful situation; and, just as the cart began to draw away, they kissed each other, joined hands, and thus were launched into eternity. The fate of Carr considerably engaged the public attention, and many different opinions were formed on the extent of his guilt. In the times in which he suffered it was a fashion to court the muse upon the CONVICTED OF MURDER, BUT WHO DIED IN NEWGATE. THIS malefactor was a native of the Hay, in Brecknockshire, where he lived as servant to a widow-lady, who was so extremely partial to him that the neighbours circulated reports to their mutual prejudice. Having lived in this station seven years, he repaired to London, where he got places in two respect able families, and then returned to his former service in Wales; when his mistress treated him with such distinction, that the country people became even more severe in their censures than before. VOL. I. On his quitting this lady a second time, she made him a present of a valuable watch, which he brought 23 |