Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1856-02-23
al isteilanfcus.
From the New Volumes Of Maeulay's History Of England.
THE LAST DAYS OF JEFFREYs. ONE OF
THE ATR0CI0US JUDGES.

Among the many offenders whose names were
mentioned in the course Of these inquiries, was one
who stood alone and uuapproached in guilt and
infamy, and whom wings and tories were willing
TO leave to the extreme rigor Of the law. On that
terrible day which was succeeded by the Irish
Night, the roar of a great city disappointed OF ITS
revenge had followed Jeffreys to the drawbridge OF
the Tower. His imprisonment was not strictly
legal: but he at first accepted with thanks and
blessings the protection which those dark walls,
made famous by SO many crimes and sorrows, al
forded him against the fury of the multitude. Soon
however he became sensible that hs life was still
in imminent peril.
For q time he nattered himself with the hope
that a writ of habeas corpus would liberate him
from his confinement, and that he sh ould be able to
steal away to some foreign country, and to hide
himself with part OF his illgotten wealth from the
detcstation of mankind; but, till the government
was settled, there was no court competent to grant
a writ of hdbeas corpus; and, as soon rs the gov
ernment had been settled, the HaLeas Corpus act
was suspended. Whether the legal guilt OF muir
der could be brought home to ~Jefreys may be
doubted. But he was morally guilty OF so many
murders, that il there had been no other way of
reaching his life, a retrospective Act Of Attainder
would have been clamorously demanded by the
whole nation. A disposition to triumph over the
fallen has never been one of the besetting sins OF
Englishmen; but the hatred of which Jetfreys was
the object was without a parallel in oul history and
partook bu too largely Of the savsgeness of his
own nature.
The people, where he was concerned, was as
cruel as himself, and exulted in his misery as he
had been accustomed to exult in the misery OF con-
yicts listening to the sentence of death. and OF
families clad in mourning. The rabble congrega-
ted before his deserted mansion in Duke street,
and read on the door, with shouts of laughter, the
bills which announced the sale Of his property.
Even delicate woman, who had tears for highway
man and housebreakers, breathed nothing but ven
geance against him. The lampoons on him which
- N oIo,N Tho tnrp yrara ntefInnuIShpH
by an atrocity rare even in those days. Hanging
would be too mild q death for him: a grave under
the ribbet too respectable a restingplace; he ought
TO be whipped to death at the carts tail; he ought
to be tortured like an Indian; he ought to be de-
voured alive.
The street poets p~ortioned out ali his joints with
cannibal ferocity, and computed how many pounds
Of steaks might be cut from his well-fattened car
cass. Nav, the rage Of his enemies was such that
in language seldom heard in England, they pro-
claimed their wish that he might 60 to the place of
wailipr and gnashing of teeth, to the worm that
nsyer dies, to the fire that is never quenched. They
exhorted him to hang himself in his carriers, and to
cut his throat with a razor. They put up horrible
prayers that he might not be able to repent, that
he might die the same hard-hearted, wicked JET
freys that he had lived. His spirit, as mean in
adyersity as insolent and inhuman in prosperity,
sank down under the load Of public adherence.
His constitution, originally bad, and much impair
ed by iutemperance, was completely broken by dis
tress and anxiety.
lie was tormented by q cruel internal diease,
which the most skilful surgeons of that age were
seldom able to relieve. One solace was left to him
brandy. Even when he had causes to try and
councils to attend, he had seldom gone to bed sober.
Now, when he had nothing to occupy his mind,
save terrible recollections and terrible forebodings,
he abandoned himself without reserve to his favor
ite vice. Many believed him to be bent on short
ening his life by excess. He thought it better,
they said, to go off in n drunken fit than to be
hacked by Ketch, or torn limb from limb by the
2opulace.
Once he was reused from q state of AFFECT de-
spondency by an agreeable sensation, speedily fol
lowed by a notifying disappointment. A parcel
had been left for him at the Tower it appeared
10 be a barrel of Colchester oysters, his favor.
lite dalnties. He was greatly moved; for there
are moments when those wha least deserve af
fcctioa are pleased to think that they inspire it
Thank God" he exclaimed, II have still some
friends left" lie opened the barrel and
from among a heap Of shells out tumbled a stout
halter.
IT does not appear that one of the ~fatterers OF
buffaous whom he had enriched out of the plum
der Of his victims came to comfort him in the day
of trouble. But he was not left in utter solitude
John Tutchin, whom he had sentenced to be fog
ged every fortnight for seven years, made his way
into the Tower, and presented himself before thf
fallen oppressor. Poor Jeffreys, humbled to thu
dust, behaved with abject civility, and called foi
wine. II am glad, sir" he said, ito see you
"And l am glad" answered the resentful whig,
'to see your lordship in this place." 81 served
nv MASTER" said Jeffreys: Il was bound in con
science to do So" Where was your conscience, .
said Tutchin, "when you passed that sentence on
me at Dorchester?" at was set down in my in
structions," answered ~Jefreys, fawningly, THAT
was to show no mercy to men like you, men oil
parts aRd courage. When l went back to court,
was reprinsnded for my lenity."
Even Tutchin, acrimonious as was his nature
and great as were his wrongs, seems to have been G
little mnllihed by the pitiable spectacle which hi
had at first contemplated with vindictive pleasure
lie always denied the truth OF the report that ht
was the person who sent the Colchester barrel Il
the Tower.
A more benevolent man, John Sharp, the excel
lent Dean of Norwich, forced himself to visit thu
prisoner. 1t was a painful task, but Sh arp ha,
been treated by Jeffreys, in olden times, MS kindl.
as it was in the nature of Jeireys to treat anySod,
and had once or twice been able by patiently wait
ing until the storm uf curses and inyectives hat
spent itself, and by dextrously seizing the momen
OF go~cd-humor, to obtain for unhappy families som,
mitigation of their sufferings. The prisoner wal
surprised and pleased. "What!" be said, "dar
you own me now!"
1t was in vain, however, that the amiable divine
tried 10 give a salutary pain co that scared con
science. Jefreys, instead of acknowledging hi
guilt exclaimed vehemently against the injustice
Of mankind. "People call me a murderer fo
doing what at the time was applauded by SOM
who are DOW high in public favor. They call m,
adrunkard because l take punch to relieve me il
my agony" He would not admit that, as Presi
dent Of the High Commission, he had done any
thing that deserved reproach. His colleagues
he-said, were the real criminals; and now the,
THEW all the blame on him. lie spoke with pecu
liar asperity Of Sprat, who had undoubtedly beer
the most humane and moderate member of thu
board.
It coon became clear that the wicked judge wat
fast sinking under the weight of bodily and menta
suffering. Doctor John Scott, prebendary Of Sainl
Paups, a clergyman of great %sanctity, and author
Of the Christian Life, a treatise once widely re
nowned was summoned, probably on the recommen
dation OF his intimate friend Sharp, to the bedside
OF the dying man. 1t was in vain. however. tina,
Scott spoke, as Sharp had already spoken, of the
hideous bntcheries of Dorchester and Taunton. To
the last, Jefreys continued to repeat those who