keeping suspicious company.” Political affinities attracted more: the eminent merchant, “who would have done much better to relieve the Militia officer (? Bernardi), he came to carouse with, at a distance, than to appear so publicly in support of a person obnoxious to the Government;” or the clergyman, “who had made himself famous at Whitechapel, or in Saint Laurence’s Church, whom it behoved in a particular manner to take heed of his ways, since his zeal had already gained him the opposite party’s displeasure.” All of these came and went as they pleased. Conviviality was general, liquor was freely called for, potations were deep, and the press-yard of Newgate at night time was like the tap-room of a common inn.
The moment was one of considerable political excitement. The Pretender’s first attempt had collapsed in the north, and the press-yard was about to be crowded with more eminent guests. Our author is aroused one fine morning by loud joy-bells pealing from the churches, and he learns from his Jacobite companion that the “king’s (Pretender’s) affairs were ruined, and that the generals Willis and Carpenter had attacked the Jacobite forces in Preston, and taken all prisoners at discretion.” Newgate is convulsed by the news. Its officers are wild with delight, “calling for liquor after an extravagant manner, and drinking to their good luck, which was to arise from the ruin and loss of lives and fortunes in many good families.” A dialogue is overheard between the hangman, the deputy bed-maker, and a turnkey’s understrapper to the following effect:—
Executioner. Come, Doll, here’s to you. Good days to us once more. If this news be true I am made a man for ever.
Bed-maker. What news, Mr. Marvell?[91] Has the Parliament lengthened out the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act?
Deputy Turnkey. No, you fool; something better than that.
Exec. Two or three hundred prisoners for high treason. Drink a bumper to their sudden arrival. They’ll be your tenants very speedily.
Bedm. How! Two or three hundred! Where shall we stow them?
Dep. T. Never heed that we shall find room for them, provided they have wherewithal to pay for it.
Exec. Pay for it! Most of them have very great estates, and are topping gentry, so there is no question we shall all of us make a penny by them.
Dep. T. I for fees to lighten their irons.
Bedm. I for keeping their chambers sweet and clean.
Exec. I for civility money in placing their halters’ knot right under their left ear, and separating their quarters at the place of execution with all imaginable decency.
Bedm. But with fine gentlemen such as these are said to be, what is their crime?
Dep. T. She’s so stupid as not to remember that we are talking of the defeated rebels.
Bedm. True; now I understand you. And those sort of gentry are to be brought hither?
Dep. T. Yes, you fool. Tom, t’other quartern of Geneva; we shall call for our bottle of port in a few days. I’ll e’en think of conning my new lesson against the prisoners come to town. “May it please your honour, this pair of derbys is as bright as silver, and weigh two guineas lighter than those such a gentleman has on.”
Bedm. And I, these sheets are made of the finest holland, and are never used but when persons of the first rank are to lie in them. Sir, such an one gave me a guinea the first night he handselled them.
Exec. I shall not be behindhand with this, though it will come last to my turn to finger any of their money. For you are to remember, that besides £3 per head I shall have from the sheriff for the execution of every peer, their clothes and the money in their pockets will likewise be my perquisites. And for every gentleman hanged and quartered I am to have the like sum, with the respective gratifications they shall make me for a quick and easy despatch; so that in all likelihood, provided the king does not unseasonably spoil my market by reprieves and pardons, which I hope he will never consent to, I shall not only purchase the title of an esquire, but the estate too, and be in a condition of yet taking an apprentice (? as hangman) under the same that are usually given to a Turkey merchant, which may make my wife hold up her head one day or other to the level of an alderman’s wife.
This conversation was presently interrupted by the approach of Mr. Pitt, the governor, who came, accompanied by other officials, to survey the rooms, and estimate the number of new tenants that could be accommodated therein. All due preparations made, a few days more brought to Newgate the unfortunate noblemen and gentlemen who had surrendered at discretion, hoping thus, although vainly, to save both life and estate. On their arrival in London they were led in triumph through the streets to their respective places of durance—viz. the Tower, the Marshalsea, Newgate, and the Fleet. The prisoners on arrival at Highgate were met by Major-General Tarlton with two battalions of Royal Foot Guards, completely armed. Cords were also brought sufficient to pinion each prisoner after the manner of condemned criminals, and to lead their horses with, “for each, from the lord to the footman, was accommodated with a Grenadier to that end.” Thus under safe conduct they marched from the Hill of Highgate to their several places of confinement. The Major-General led the way, being “preceded by several citizens of more loyalty than compassion, who made repeated huzzas to excite the mob to do the like.” After the General commanding came a company of the first regiment of Guards, “who made a very fine appearance.” Then came the division for the Tower, two and two, the Earl of Derwentwater and Lord Widdrington in the first rank, the other lords and noblemen following with haltered horses, bound like common malefactors, and reviled and hooted.
Those for Newgate brought up the rear. They were civilly and humanely treated on arrival there. The officers received them under the gateway, and no sooner were the prisoners alighted from their horses and their names called over, than their cords were immediately cut from their arms and shoulders, and refreshment of wine brought to them. “Their number was about seventy,” says our author.[92] “And amongst them in particular I could not but cast my eye upon one Mr. Archibald Bolair, who in the sixteenth year of his age was said to have signalized his courage, and have displayed as much skill and dexterity in feats of arms in the battle of Preston as the oldest commander of them, Brigadier Macintosh himself, though trained up in warlike affairs, not excepted. What induced me to distinguish him from the rest was the fearless way of expression he made use of when the clerk of the prison cut his cords. ‘By my soul, man,’ said he, ‘you should not have done that, but kept it whole that I might either have been hanged with it, or have it to show, if I escaped the gallows, how I had been led like a dog in a string for twice two miles together.’ Mr. Bolair then enquired feelingly for his followers, who had been brought so many miles from home out of observance of his orders, and he was anxious that they should not want.” Young Mr. Bolair was told off to the same room as our author, into which two additional beds were placed, for the convenience of the keeper, who by four beds in one room, filled each with three tenants, got £6 per week, besides the sums paid as entrance money.
The prisoners included many persons of note. Two of them—Mr. Forster, who thought himself slighted and ill-used because, in consideration of his seat in Parliament, he had not been imprisoned in the Tower; and Francis Anderson, esquire, commonly called Sir Francis, a gentleman of £2000 per annum—had apartments in the governor’s house at £5 per head per week. There were also Colonel Oxborough, Brigadier Macintosh, the two Talbots, the Shaftos, Mr. Wogan, and Captain Menzies, who with their adherents and servants were thrust into the worst dungeons—such as “the lion’s den” and the “middle dark,”—till for better lodgment they had advanced more money than would have rented one of the best houses in Piccadilly or St. James’s Square. The fee or premium paid by Mr. Forster and Sir Francis Anderson for being accommodated in the governor’s house was £60, and
