Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1856-02-06
LAST DAYS oFJUDGE JEFFREYs.

In the new volumes OF Macauiey,S history
of England Is the following account of the last
days of the notorious Judge Jeffreys:-
ssAmong the many offenders whose names
were mentioned in the course of these inqui-
ries, was one who stood alone and unapproach
ed in guilt and infamy, and whom wings and
tories were equally willing to leave to the ex-
treme rigor of the law. On that terrible day,
which was succeeded by the Irish Night, the
roar of great city disappointed of its re-
vengc, 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
cries and sorrows afforded him against the fu
ry of the multitude. Soon, however, he be-
came sensible that his life was still in immi-
nent peril.
For time he fattcred himself with the hope
that writ of habeas corpus would liberate him
from his confinement, and that he should be
able to steal away to some foreign country, and
to hide himself with part of his ill-gotten
wealth from the detestation of mankind but
till the government was settled, there was no
court competent to grant writ of ha5eas cor
pus, and as soon as the government had been
settled, the habeas corpus act was suspended.
Whether tiW legal guilt of murder could be
brought home to Jeffreys, may be doubted.
But he was morally guilty of SO many murders
that, if there had been no other way Of reach
ing his life, 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
Jefireys was the object was without parallel
in our history, anG partook but too largely of
! the sayagencss Of his own nature.
The people, where he was concerned, were
as cruel as himself, and exultcd in his misery
as he had been accustomed to exult in the mis-
cry OF convicts listening to the sentence Of
death, and of families clad in mourning. The
rabble congregatcd before his deserted man
SON in Duke street, and read on the door, with
shouts of laughter, the bills which announced
the sale of his property. Even delicate wo-
men, who had tears for highwaymen and house
breakers, breathed nothing but vengeance a
gainst him. The lampoons on him which were
| hawked about the town were distinguished by
an atrocity rare even in those days. Hanging
would be too mild death for him; a grave
under the gibbet too respectable a resting
place he ought to be whipped to death at the
| carts tail; he ought to be tortured to death
like an Indian; he ought TO be deyoured alive.
The street poets portioned out all his joints
with cannibal ferocity, and computed how ma
ny pounds Of steaks might be cut from his
well fattcned carcass. Nay, the rage of his
enemies was such, that, in language seldom
heard in England, they proclaimed their wish
that he might go to the place of wailing and
gnashing of teeth, to the worm that never dies,
| to the fire that is never quenched. They cx-
borted him TO hang himself in his garters, and
to cut his throat with his razor. They put up
horrible prayers that he might not be able to
repent, that he might die the same hard-hcart-
ed, wicked JEFFREYs that he had lived. His
spirit, as mean in adversely as insolcnt and in
human in prosperity, sunk down under the
load of public adherence. His constitution,
originally bad, and much impaired by intenl-
perance, was completely broken by distress
and anxiety.
/ He was tormented by cruel internal dis
ease, which the most sllillful surgeons of that
age were seldom able to relieve. One solace
was left to hiin-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 rec
elections and terrible forebodings, he aban-
doned himself without reserve to his favorite
vice. Many believed him to be bent on short
- -
ter, they said, to so off in a drunken fit than
to be hacked by. KETCH, or torn limb from lirnt
by the populace.
Once he was reused from a state of abjcct
dependence by an agreeable sensation, speed
ly followed by a mortifying disappointment
a parcel had been left for him at the Tower
1t appeared to be barrel of Colchester oys-
ters, his favorite- dainties. lie was greatly
moved; for there are moments when those
who least deserve affection are pleased to think
that they inspire it. ssThank Cod he ex
claimed, ssI have still some friends left!'' lie
opened the parcel, and from among a heap o
shells out tumbled stout halter.
It does not appear that one of the fatterer:
or buffoons whom he had enriched out of the
plumber of his victims, came to comfort hin
In the day of trouble. But he was not left il
utter solitude. John Tutchin, whom he hac
sentenced to be fogged every fortnight fo
seven years, made his way into the Tower, anC
presented himself before the fallen oppressor
Poor Jeffreys, humbled to the dust, behaved
with abject civility, and called for wine. g
am glad, sir,'' he said, ssto see YOU Sand
am glad,'' answered the resentful whig, sst