RIGOUR OF THE OLD ENGLISH LAW.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVIII, Issue 2262, 8 January 1887, Page 2 (Supplement)

RIGOUR OF THE OLD ENGLISH LAW.

Oα the 24th of February, 1057, 'Major Strang waves, accused of the murder of Oliadiah Fussall, was finally arraigned at the Sessions House, in the Old Bailey, before Lord Chief Justice Glyn. But, having hoard his indictment recited, and being. re? quired to plead (according to the usual form) "Guilty" or "Not Guilty" of the charge, neither menace or persuasion would induce the hardy soldier of King Charles to hold up his hand in the Courts of the Commonwealth. It was in vain the learned Glyn and the rest of the Bench urged that, should he continue in contempt of Court, his crime involved no less a sentence than the horrible punishment of pressing to death. Not even the terrors of such a fate could determine Strangwayes to submit to any ordinary course of law. Having wasted hours in argument, the venerable Judge descended to entreaty;—to tears; imploring the accused not to offer himself as so fearful an example. " Let the rigour of the law of England take its course !" replied Major Strangwayes, in a firm voice. " We have seen a pretended tribual pour forth the innocent blood of its best and noblest—even of the martyr, Charles Stuart—(a saint in heaven). Spare not, therefore, mine, who Own myself a sinner, whether guilty or not of the one misdemeanor laid to my charge." "Yot, bethink thee, rash man, while Heaven still allows an outlet of escape from the agonies of death about to be adjudged thee," said the venerable Glyn, "bethink thee that, though direct proof against thee thereisnone—•"" I will bethink me only of submission tothesentence ye shall prononnci," interrupted the bold Major. "Lsave me to make my peace with God—with man, alas! it can never more be made." Whereupon, slowly rising, and dashing away the tears of mercy that stood on his furrowed cheeks, the Lord Chief Justice rose, amid the breathless stillness of the Court, putting on the cap tendered him by his macer, pronounced sentence on the prisoner— "George Strangways, of Mussen, in the county of Dorset," said he, "sometime Major in the armies of Charles Stuart, convicted of contempt of the most worshipful Court of Sessions of the county of Middlesex, holderi at the Old Bailey, it is the decree of a Jury of your countrymen that ye be sent back to the place from whence ye came, and thence to the press-yard of the prison of Newgate; where, being laid bare upon your back, with your arms and leg* stretched forth by cords, one to one side, the other to the other, as much iron and stone shall be laid upon your body as you can bear. The first day ye shall have three morsels of bread, and the next day drink thrice of the water from the channel nearest to your prison-door ; and this shall be your punishment till you die !" All present heard and shuddered, the prisoner alone maintaining a steadfast countenance. To Newgate he returned, without a word spoken; and that night .several eminent divines waited upon him, some by will of the Protector, some in private charity, to prepare his soul for death, to counsel him to tender submission to Government. To the clergy thus assembled he replied with becoming reverence as regarded his hopes of his salvation, professing humble faith in Christ, and an earnest hope to be brought through his merits to the mercy and glory of God ; but denying the authority of Cromwell, and keeping his loyalty to the last. To one, however, of the members (Dr. Warmester) he addressed himself for private spiritual comfort; and the rest having departed, exceeding sorrowful at his contumacy, the good doctor obtained leave of the sheriffs to attend him in his cell, at the same hour that his brother-in-law, Dewey, was to take a last leave of the condemned. "Doctor," said the dauntless Strangwayes, when they three were alone together within the four stone walls of the coll, "take—write —and bear witness of me." " A confession !" was the involuntary peculation of Dr. Warmester. "Then Heaven has, in its mercy, touched a callous heart." " No confession !" replied Strangwayes, in a firm voiee; "unless, indeed, that 1 appeal not against the justice of my Judge. ' Neither pincers of iron, nor <:ther implement of human cruelty could wring from me such confession as would bring upon my head the ignominy of the gibbet, and cause my estate to be forfeited to the law. There are those of my kin, to whom the lands of Mussen must descend when I am dead and gone. (Major Dewey here drew forth a kerchief of ample dimensions.) I' should not rest iu my grave, Doctor, did I imagine that the estates of my forefathers were to fall into the hands of traitors and regicides !" " I beseech you, good brother, take heed of your words that you offend not with your tongue," mildly interposed Dewey: " not that I would insinuate distrust of the worthy divine here presentbut—" " So much the better," interrupted the brave Cavalier with a smile ; since it is him, and no other, I humbly pray to accept the office of my executorship, and the bequest of my whole property and estate" — the Major turned pale and trembled—"to have and to hold in trust'for such purposes ;is I shall confide to his discretion"—the Major breathed again—" requesting you, brother Dewey, as one of my nearest kinsmen, to subscribe as witness this my lust will and testament."—To refuse, and refuse in ignorance of the nature of a bequest which might purport good to him and his, was out of the question. With a trembling hand, Dewey affixed his signature to the document thus hastily prepared ; the turnkeys adding their names, for further testimony. "I am every moment awaiting the arrival of her to whom this trust is dedicated," observed Strangwayes, when all was done and the paper conveyed to the charge of the governor of the prison ; and scarcely had Dewey time to recover his surprise, when the door of the cell opened, and a turnkey re-appeared bearing a lovely child, a girl of some six years old, who, on beholding Strangwayes, called on him in a piteous voice by the name of " Father;" and, springing into his arms, hid her sweet face in his bosom, so that nought was visible bnt the long rings of her radiant hair veiling her little shoulders. " Rachel ?" faltered the prisoner, his strong voice waxing weak as he addressed the child. " Father! dear, dear father!" murmured the little creature in reply. " What art thou doing, father, in this dark, sad place? It is so long since thou wert down at Beechwood, and I have wearied for thee so grievously ! Winter is almost gone; there are white snow-drops springing up, and the briars are budding in the garden-hedge. Come back with me, father, to Beechwood; come away from these great gloomy walls and this loud, noisy city. The blackbird is sitting again in the orchard ; and I have been so good, so very good. Nurse Blanchard promised to tell you how quiet and how good I have been—never once going near, the bird upon her nest, because thou lovestso well the song: of the blackbird of a summer afternoon. Father, father! Thou art weeping?" The agonised father, not daring to move, lest the babe should take cognizance of the irons with which he was loaded, said, "Thou must oven now bid me farewell, and away; find bo it as a token of love betwixt us, little Rachel, that thou leavest me without uiurmer, so as to spare a pang to the father that so dearly loves thee !" The young child listened. Her bosom hoaved, as she laboured with a sore effort to restrain her falling tears. She looked up wistfully in her father's face, and the sobs were repressed upon her quivering lip, as sho pressed it to his cheek, his brow, his chin,

Ift tho outpouring of her innocent tenderness. Sho uttered not a single syllable, she dared not trust herself to speak ; but with unheard of self-considered, stretched nut her fair arms silently towards tho turn-' key who had brought her to tho cell, and who now stood beside tho grated door, with tears 'counting down her. rugged face. Another moment, and all was dark ; the door had turned on its sullen hinge, and closed again upon the man and his burtheru ; and, lo ! it seemed as if a sun-beam had been suddenly withdrawn from the place. For a time not a word was spoken. " That child, brother Dewey, is tho child of Mildred Hooker I" said Strangwayes, at length breaking silence, and it is mine! Mildred h:is been six years dead, (she died in giving birth to my babe) and Rachel will soon bo an orphan. Marvel not, therefore, that I find courage to confront a death of pain and terror to secure to tho offspring of ono so teuderly beloved the means of maintenance. It was by the cunning of Obadiah Fusaell that Mildred was wrested from me as my bride, and bestowed on a man, who, within two years of her marriage, made oif to Virginia,' leaving her to want and shame. In my arms'did she take refuge ! We had tidings, but doubtful, of the death of her husband; and there' was need that the marriage which we formed at the altar, (ay ! by legal'form at the alter,) should be kept close till a. sure certificate of his interment came to" hand. Death stopped iii between. It was my faithful Mildred's interment I had to certify. From that day the cottage at Beach wood became my home, tho babe my solace. Oh ! that, lawless dealing had not served to thrust mo thence for ever, and deprive my poor infant of the tender watchfulness of a father!" "Arid, as touching the violent end of poor Fussell?" observed the divine, perceiving the heart of the prisoner to be softened, and hoping the moment might be favourable to obtain a confession. "As touching that unhappy man, who would have robbed me of the last morsel destined to preserve the life of my child, I pray ye let'no more be said !" replied Strangwayes, in a tone of resolution. "The God of vengeance knows for what I have to answer. All that remains to me if tiino must be devoted to preparations for eternity." And it was done so! All that night the promises of peace. Early in the morning; came Dewey again, with many Cavaliers, who had served in happier times with the brave soldier. Of each George Strangwayss took an affectionate but manly leave; refusing to ;jive ear to their entreaties that he would release himself trom coining torture by confession. " My.house aud lands shall never fall to the lot of the Regicides," was his still reiterated - reply. " A holy and a happy purpose awaits the destination of Mussen Farm." Already the- javelin-men were assembled; and'the Sheriffs came forth with pale faces to preside over this frightful execution. The bell of Christchurch tower tolled heavily ; the ordinary began reciting the service of burial of the dead ; when George Strangwayes, clad in a close-fitting garb of white, covered with a long mourning cloak, was led forth into the press-yard. The very executioners looked aghast, as scarcely knowing what course to pursue. " Doctor ! support me with your prayers," said the Cavalier in a solemn voice, addressing Dr. Warmester, who stood there with his hands devoutly folded on his breast. " For you, friends!" he added, addressing such of his party as were there to do him friendship to the last, " when the weights are put on, I pray you leap upon my body, that my sufferings be abridged." And, dreadful as was the duty, they had the courage to comply. The ponderous masses of iron and stone were upheaved on the press placed upon the outstretched body of the victim, until heavy groans burst forth, bearing involuntary token of his anguish. At that signal, three stout Cavaliers flung themselves with headlong pressnre on the body ; and after one more doleful cry, all was still: the spirit had departed from its tortured dwelling place of clay ! Same hours afterwards the weights were taken off and the wooden press on which they were deposited removed. It was seen that, by the humanity of the executioners, an angle of the press had been purposely placed over the heart of the victim, to put a speedier end to his torments ; for, by the injunction of the Protector, the sharp billet usually placed under the backs of malefactors condemned t" the horrible fate of pressing to death to hasten the execution, had been held from George Strangeways, the malignant. By the interference of Dr Warmester, the mangled body was placed in a decent coffin, and interred nt the north-western corner of the cemetery .at Moorfields. There may a plain headstone still be seen bearing the initials "G.S. A.D. 1057;" and nigh unto it a small mossy ridge. For, the child Rachel having soon pined away to death, the divine who ministered to the last moments of her father, caused her to be laid at the feet of him who, for her sake, had braved the utmost rigour of the law ; and whereas; by the death of the innocent, the estate of Mussen fell to his absolute disposal, Warmester bestowed it in perpetual endowment upon the school of Christ's Hospital in "the city of London.