Читать книгу True Crime Chronicles - Camden Pelham - Страница 76

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JOHN M‘NAUGHTON, ESQ. was the son of a merchant at Derry, whose father had been an alderman of Dublin. He was educated at Trinity College, Dublin; and on his coming of age he entered into a landed estate of six hundred pounds a year, in the county of Tyrone, which was left him by Dr. M‘Naughton, his uncle. The first vice he fell into was that of gaming, by which he very soon did great injury to his fortune; and though he continued (as most novices do who play with sharpers) in a constant run of ill luck, and was soon obliged to mortgage his property, yet his losses made no visible alteration in his temper. Although he was of a most passionate disposition, his pride kept him within due bounds there. All was placid with the polite M‘Naughton; and he lost his money to the very last with that graceful composure that became the man who had a plentiful fortune to support it. But strong as his passion this way might be, it was not powerful enough to secure him against the attacks of love, and becoming attached to a young lady he very speedily married her. The reader may well suppose that the expenses of a wife and family in Dublin must soon increase his difficulties, and introduce a new scene of troubles; and it did so in a manner and with an effect which was most unhappy for Mr. M‘Naughton. It appears that a writ having been issued against him at the suit of one of his creditors, the sheriff’s officer obtained access to his house by a stratagem, on which he flew into a rage, and calling out for pistols, he frighted his poor listening wife to such a degree that premature labour followed, and she died in childbed.

The feelings of the unfortunate husband upon the occurrence of this melancholy event were most distressing, and he made repeated attempts upon his life; but a change of scene being recommended, he was conveyed to the country, where every attention was paid to his health, while his fortune also was nursed with equal care. On his return to the gaiety of the Irish metropolis, he soon resumed that worst of passions—gaming, and again became the dupe of others, while his property was once more seriously diminished. At this time he made secret advances to Miss Knox, the beautiful and accomplished daughter of Richard Knox, Esq. of Prohen in the county of Derry, who was possessed of a handsome fortune, and whose promise of marriage he obtained, in the event of her father’s consent being given. On that consent being requested, however, it was at once refused, on account of the youth of the young lady, whose age did not exceed sixteen years; and Mr. Knox was so resolute in his refusal, that he forbade the suitor for his daughter’s hand ever to enter the house again. Mr. M‘Naughton begged that this latter injunction might be withdrawn, urging that it would appear strange to the world that his friendship with a family, with which he had been so intimate, should be so suddenly broken off; and upon his promising upon his honour, that the subject of the marriage should not be again mentioned, and declaring that he had not previously spoken of it to the young lady herself, his visits were allowed to be repeated. In the mean time he continued his addresses to the young lady, and informed her that he had obtained the consent of her father, but that the marriage must be postponed for a year or two, when some material business would be settled, which was required to be decided first; and under this assurance she no longer withheld the confession that the passion of her admirer was returned, and appeared to delight most in the company of the man whom she looked upon as her future husband.

All her hopes were, however, soon doomed to be blasted. One day being in company with M‘Naughton and a little boy in a retired room in the house, he pressed her to marry him, protesting he never could be happy till he was sure of her; and with an air of sprightly raillery, pulling out a prayer-book, he began to read the marriage service, and insisted on the young lady making the responses, which she did; but to every one she always added, “provided her father consented.”

Some short time after this, Miss Knox going to a friend’s house on a week’s visit, Mr. M‘Naughton, being also an intimate there, soon followed her; and here he fixed his scene for action. After a day or two he claimed her, and, calling her his wife, insisted on consummation; but the young lady absolutely refused to comply, and leaving the house, went directly and informed her uncle of the whole affair. On this Mr. Knox wrote a letter to M‘Naughton, telling him what a base dishonourable villain he was, and bade him avoid his sight for ever; but upon the receipt of this letter M‘Naughton advertised his marriage in the public newspapers, cautioning every other man not to marry his lawful wife. This vile attack was answered by a very spirited and proper advertisement from the father, with an affidavit of the whole affair from the daughter annexed; and Mr. Knox having commenced a suit in the Prerogative Court, the marriage was declared invalid. Mr. M‘Naughton having absconded to avoid his debts, could not now appeal to the Court of Delegates, and the original decree was confirmed. Judge Scott in consequence issued his warrant for the apprehension of the defendant, who was liable to pay costs; and M‘Naughton, hearing of this, wrote a most impudent threatening letter to the judge, and, it is said, lay in wait to have him murdered, but missed him by the judge’s taking another road. Upon this the judge applied to the lord chief justice, who issued another writ against him, which drove him to England.

In the summer of 1761, Mr. M‘Naughton returned to Ireland, and by constantly hovering round Mr. Knox’s house, obliged the family to be upon their guard, and the young lady to live like a recluse.

About the middle of the summer, however, she ventured to a place called Swaddling Bar to drink the mineral waters there for her health; but even thither this unhappy man followed her, and he was seen in a beggar’s habit dogging her footsteps. Thus disguised he was detected; and when warned never to appear there again, he swore, in the presence of several, that he would murder the whole family if he did not get possession of his wife—a threat which he subsequently attempted to carry out. Notwithstanding his violence, it appears that he was permitted again to escape to London; and he remained there until the month of October in the same year. At the beginning of November he was again seen in Ireland; and having approached the residence of the Knoxes, he was known to sleep with three of his accomplices, at the house of a hearth-money collector, very nearly adjoining the abode of his intended victim. The 10th was the day fixed upon by him for the attack; and on that morning M‘Naughton, with his companions, went to a cabin on the road-side with a sack full of fire arms, in order to await the passing of Mr. Knox’s coach, in which it was known the family were about to proceed to Dublin. One of the men was despatched to ascertain the moment of the coming of the vehicle; and when it appeared in sight, having obtained the information requisite for its identification, he hurried back to desire the projector of the scheme to prepare. It appears that the only persons in the carriage were Mr. Knox and his wife, their daughter and a maid-servant; and they were attended only by one livery-servant, and a faithful fellow, a smith, who was foster-father to Miss Knox, and whom no bribe could ever purchase, although most of the other servants had been tampered with. As soon as the coach came near the cabin, two of the villains, armed with guns, presented themselves to the postilion and coachman, and stopped the horses, while M‘Naughton fired at the smith with a blunderbuss. The latter escaped being wounded, and presented his piece in return, but it unfortunately missed fire, and M‘Naughton and one of his companions seizing the opportunity, again fired, and both of them wounded him. Mr. Knox at this time drew up the blinds of the carriage, and M‘Naughton observing this, ran round to the other side, and firing in at the window obliquely, with a gun loaded with five balls, shot Miss Knox, all the balls taking effect in her body. The maid-servant now let down the window, screaming that her mistress was murdered; and the livery-servant on hearing this came from behind a peat-stack, where he had concealed himself for safety, and firing at M‘Naughton, wounded him in the back; and about the same time Mr. Knox from the coach discharged a pistol, which was the last of eight shots fired on this strange and dreadful occasion.

The murderer and his accomplices now immediately fled; and Miss Knox being carried into the cabin, died in about three hours. An attack so bold and so diabolical in its nature excited the greatest degree of interest; and large rewards were instantly offered for the apprehension of the perpetrator of the murder. For a considerable time all search proved fruitless; but at length a corporal of Sir James Caldwell’s company of Light Horse secured him under the following circumstances:—It appears that the corporal had received instructions to search the house and offices of one Wenslow, a farmer, and had examined every place without success, when he bethought himself of a stratagem, by which to obtain the requisite information of the murderer’s hiding-place. Observing a fellow digging potatoes in a piece of ground behind the stables, he remarked in his hearing that it was a great pity that M‘Naughton could not be found, for that the person who discovered his retreat would be sure of a reward of 300l. The bait took, and the peasant pointed to a barn, and thither the corporal and his assistants immediately proceeded. The door was fast, but they at length forced it open, and then they found the object of their search standing with a gun at his shoulder, apparently determined to resist all efforts made to secure him. On the appearance of the corporal he fired at him, but without wounding him; and a shot from the corporal’s gun striking him on the wrist, he was compelled to surrender.

He was immediately secured and carried to Lifford jail, where he remained in the closest confinement until the 8th December, 1761, when he was put upon his trial, with an accomplice named Dunlap before Mr. Baron Mountney and Mr. Justice Scott, on a special commission.

M‘Naughton, still suffering from the effects of the wounds which he had received, was brought into court on a bier, rolled in a blanket, and wearing the shirt in which he was taken, still smeared with blood. His beard had grown to an enormous length, and his head was wrapped in a greasy woollen night-cap. In that condition he made a long speech, pointedly and sensibly; and complained in the most pathetic manner of the hard usage he had met with since his confinement. He said “they had treated him like a man under sentence, and not like a man that was to be tried.” He declared, with tears in his eyes, that he never intended to kill his dear wife, but that he only designed to take her away.

The case lasted five days, a considerable portion of the first day being occupied in pleadings to postpone the trial, and the reply of the counsel for the crown. During these debates M‘Naughton often spoke with most amazing spirit and judgment; but the result was, that he was ordered to prepare his affidavit, which the Court would take into consideration. Accordingly, on the 9th, he was brought into Court again, and his affidavit read, in which he swore that some material witnesses for him were not to be had, particularly one Owens, who, he said, was present all the time; but the Court were of opinion that no sufficient reason for the application was shown, and the trial in consequence proceeded. During the whole proceedings M‘Naughton took his notes as regularly as any of the lawyers, and cross-examined all the witnesses with the greatest accuracy, and he was observed to behave with uncommon resolution.

His chief defence was founded on a letter he produced, as written to him by Miss Knox, in which she desired him to intercept her on the road to Dublin, and take her away; but this letter was proved a forgery of his own, which after condemnation he confessed. He took great pains to exculpate himself from the least design to murder any one, much less his dear wife (as he always called her); he declared solemnly that his intent was only to take her out of the coach, and carry her off; but as he received the first wound, from the first shot that was fired, the anguish of that wound, and the prospect of his ill success in his design, so distracted him that, being wholly involved in confusion and despair, he fired he knew not at what or whom, and had the misfortune to kill the only person in the world that was dear to him; that he gave the Court that trouble, and laboured thus, not to save his life—for death was now his choice—but to clear his character from such horrid guilt as that which was ascribed to him. The jury, however, found both prisoners guilty; and M‘Naughton received the intimation without any concern, declaring that “they had acquitted themselves with justice to the country.” Mr. Baron Mountney then pronounced upon both prisoners the awful sentence which the law directed; and although the Court were visibly affected by the manner in which this painful duty was performed, M‘Naughton remained unconcerned. He prayed the Court to have mercy upon Dunlap, alleging that he was his tenant, and had been compelled by him to participate with him in the transaction, under pain of losing a lease, which he hoped to be renewed; but he declared that life was not worth asking for himself, for that his wife being dead, the better half of himself was gone, and he had nothing to remain for in this world.

Tuesday the 15th December, 1761, was fixed upon for the execution of these criminals; but it appears that some difficulty was experienced in carrying the sentence into effect. For a long time no carpenter could be found to make the gallows, and the sheriff looked out for a tree proper for the purpose, and the execution must have been performed on it, had not the uncle of the young lady, and some other gentlemen, made the gallows, and put it up. The sheriff was afterwards obliged to take a party of soldiers, and force a smith to take off the prisoners’ bolts, otherwise he must have been obliged, contrary to law, to execute them with their bolts on. The time for the execution having arrived, M‘Naughton, attended by his fellow prisoner, walked to the place of execution, but, being weak of his wounds, was supported between two men. The former was dressed in a white flannel waistcoat trimmed with black buttons and holes, a diaper night-cap tied with a black riband, white stockings, mourning-buckles, and a crape tied on his arm. He desired the executioner to be speedy; and the fellow pointing to the ladder, he mounted with great spirit. The moment he was tied up he jumped from it with such vehemence as snapped the rope, and he fell to the ground, but without dislocating his neck, or doing himself much injury. When they had raised him on his legs again, he soon recovered his senses; and the executioner borrowing the rope from Dunlap, and fixing it round M‘Naughton’s neck, he went up the ladder a second time, and tying the rope himself to the gallows, he jumped from it again with the same force, and appeared dead in a minute.

The spectators, who saw him drop when the rope broke, looked upon it as some contrivance for his escape, which they favoured all they could by running away from the place, and leaving it open.

Dunlap was afterwards turned off in the usual manner, in sight of the dangling body of his accomplice and master.