her letter sent to him, which gave an account what money she intended he should dispose of for her, and that she had several hundred pounds of it then ready: she being with her one day in her chamber, about two weeks before her death, she bid her look in a drawer there, and bring her the money therein; upon perceiving it,Am not I very rich?' said she. The other demanding the reason of that question, Because,' said she, it is all the money 'that I am now mistress of;' which was only two guineas and a little silver, notwithstanding she had so many hundred pounds in her possession not long before. And about the same time, she being in discourse with another person about her concerns, she said, That Spencer Cowper had a great deal of her monies in his hands, and that he was to have more :' and her relations do miss about a thousand pounds; and they know of none she disposed of any other ways, after she writ that letter to him. And when her mother asked him before the lord chief justice Holt, what money he had in bis hands of her daughter's? He said None;' and also said, He thought his reputation would have secured, or carried him above suspicions 'or examinations of that kind.' · But it may easily be gathered who carried her money away, for a great deal of it was in gold; and that very morning he went away, when he had lodged at her mother's house, he very much importuned her to come to his house at London, and told her how glad his wife would be of her company, and used many arguments to persuade her to it; and at length said, He would not go out of the house till 'she had promised him to come:' but she refused to promise, and said, She did not know when she should come to London.' This discourse was in the hearing of one that will evidence it upon oath. 6 6 The week before that assize, she received a letter from his wife, which was writ after the usual manner, as she had several not long before, very earnestly inviting her to her house at London, with high expressions of love; and so much the more she desired her company then, because she believed they should not come to lodge at Hertford that summer: and in that letter tells her, that they must expect her 'husband at their house at the assize;' the which she told her mother and others who read the letter. This letter Spencer Cowper confessed to the coroner's inquest, that he ordered his wife to write it for his lodging at her mother's house; but when he was examined by the lord chief justice Holt, he then denied it, and said, his wife writ no letter: but her maid, Sarah Walker, being present, told him, His wife did send a letter, and that she herself took it in of the post-man, and gave it to her 'mistress ;' so then he could not deny that there was a letter sent. And accordingly he came, and sent his horse thither; and being asked, before he rid from the door, whether he would come to dinner? He said, He was not certain, but he would 'send word:' but her mother and she staying long, and he not sending, they sent her maid, to see whether he would come or no ; who then quickly came, and dined there: and when he went from thence, the young woman, Sarah Stout, going to the door with him, asked, 'If 'he thought to lodge at their house?' He said, 'Yes, he would come and lodge at their house." This she said as soon as he was gone, and then bid the maid go get his bed ready: at night, when he came, her mother being in the room with her, he fell into some discourse remote from any thing of her daughter's business; and, after some time, called for pen and ink, to write a letter to his wife, although it was not post-night, nor did any carrier go next day. When he went to write, her mother and she went out of the room, and staid a considerable time; but it growing late, the young woman went in, to see if he had done, and if he would have any supper; and what he desired, be had. Her mother went not in again, because she knew her daughter expected he would give her some account of her money, and have brought her security for it, as he did the sessions before for 2004.; and she finding that he would not speak of it before her, would not interrupt them, but gave her daughter time and opportunity to speak to him. What discourse they had, is not known; but sure enough it was very different from, and inconsistent with, what he rendered it to be at his trial; for he had writ a receipt in full for use-money he paid her then, which lay on the table, but was never signed by her, although he pressed her to it several times, and bid her put on her considering-cap, (as he confessed to the coroner's inquest) and asked her, If she was lazy? yet still she refused to sign it; which plainly shewed her dis. satisfaction, and that there was more due to her, else she would never have refused it. Between ten and eleven o'clock, she called her maid to make a fire in his chamber, and to warm his bed, in his hearing; and while the maid was doing it, he went out: her mother hearing the door clap, went into the parlour, to ask her what the reason was of his going out when his bed was a-warming, and, to her surprize, found she was gone too, and never saw her alive afterwards. She admired what the meaning of this should be, knowing that she never used to go out so late; neither could she imagine whither they should be gone; but after some consideration, did think he might tell her, that the securities she expected were to be signed and sealed somewhere in the town, and that he had persuaded her to go out upon that account, and so was in expectation of them quickly. The maid that was warming his bed stayed, expecting him to come up; thinking, when she heard the noise of the door, he was gone to carry his letter somewhere; which, it is thought by some, was his pretence in going out, thereby to draw her to the door, to let him out; for there is no ground to believe she went any farther with him willingly so they sat up all night, both her mother and the maid, ex pecting them every minute, not knowing where to look for her at that time of night; but if they had, would never have gone to the river, where she was found floating the next morning; for there was no manner of circumstance, either in her words or actions, that did give them any cause to think she would drown herself, or that she ever had any thing of that nature in her thoughts. No sooner was she taken out of the river, but it was spread, by his party, both in city and country, that she was with child, and had drowned herself to avoid the shame. That she was not drowned, is clear unto all who are impartial, and have had a true account of the case, either at the trial, or otherwise; as it plainly appeared by those settlements of blood and bruises about her head and neck, and on one of her arms; and her having no water in her, but was empty and lank, when she was first taken out of the water. eleven and twelve o'clock at night; whereas it was proved, that he came into town two or three hours before. And when Marson asked the other two, what they had spent that day?' one of them asked, what was that to him? He was to have forty or fifty pounds for his 'share." The said Marson also pulling out money out of his pocket, swore that he would spend it all next day, for joy the business was done. And whereas they say, in their Case to the parliament, They are men in good busi'ness at London:' if they are so, it had been well if they had staid in it; for sure enough, they had no good business at Hertford; neither did they pretend to any at all, but said, 'they came only to see fashions,' to the woman where they lodged. And it is very observable, how highly displeased Spencer Cowper was at her being taken up, and how he earnestly besought the judge, that what the doctors did and said then, might not be allowed, or taken for evidence; alleging, that she ought not to have been taken private inspection of parties, altogether amongst themselves; whereas there ought to have been some on both sides, he says, lest they should have broke her scull, and the gentlemen should have been trepanned; and yet doctor Camlin, sir William Cowper's doctor, was with them all the while, as doctor Coatsworth told the judge, and was sent for, on purpose to take off any such objection; and did set his hand to the certificate, of her clearness of that scandal, with the rest of the doctors: which is as followeth : 'We whose names are here under written, 'having examined the body of Mrs. Sarah Stout, deceased, do find the uterus perfectly 'free and empty, and of the natural figure and 'magnitude, as usually in virgins. We found 'no water in the stomach, intestines, abdomen, lungs, or cavity of the thorax. The evidence was yery full and plain against them, and the judgments of the doctors stand firm and good, and are not, nor ever can be dis-out of her grave without legal authority, for proved, by all the evasions and distinctions of voluntary drowning, and drowning by accident; nor by all those little tricks made use of by those on the other side, by drowning, and half drowning of dogs, and other such like experiments, whereby they have only exposed themselves. But when she was taken up again, after she had been buried six weeks, in order to be cleared of that infamous report, which then was given out, for the only reason why she drowned herself (to wit), her being with child; then nothing could be more plain, than that she was not drowned, but came by her death some other way, as the doctors and surgeons did give their opinion upon oath, before the lord chief justice Holt, and at the trial also. And it is very probable, that these three gentlemen, John Marson, Ellis Stephens, and Wm. Rogers, knew very well how she came by her death, (whose lives Spencer Cowper seemed to be more tender of than of his own) by their discourse that night her death was, about an hour after she was missing; for as soon as they came into their lodgings at John Gurrey's, they could not forbear, but began to ask him several questions about her. Although we do not understand that either of them had any former knowledge of her, yet Marson pretended, that be had made love to her, and that she had cast him off; But,' said he, a friend of mine is even with her by this time;' then one of the others asked him, If the business was done?' If it is not,' said he, it will be done this 'night.' 'Yes,' says the other, her business is done; Sarah Stout's courting days are 'over.' What could have been spoke plainer, except they had said, 'She is dead?' This was positively proved against them. Also, the said Marson, when he came into his lodging, was in a great sweat, and called for a fire to dry his feet and shoes, they being wet both without and within; and pretended, that he was just then come from London, it being then between JOHN DIMSDALE, sen. Hertford, April 28th, 1699. When all mouths were stopped, and put to silence in that matter, and no reason could be given why she should drown herself; then Spencer Cowper was at a loss, and knew not what to pretend, why she should do so; until (to use his own words) some heads were laid together, to contrive that she was in love with him. In order to this design, those letters were in vented, which were produced in court, (for not a word was ever heard of them before she was taken up again) and a witness was provided to prove the receiving of them both; but his friend Marshall, who was his witness, had forgot the year when the first was writ, and said, it was March was twelvemonth; till his memory was refreshed by the second, which was dated but four days after; and it seems they had forgotten to date that second letter, so as to give it any credit at all. This was that which he calls that importunate letter by which he was invited down to lodge at that gentlewoman's house, which was dated the ninth of March. Now if her maid Sarah Walker's evidence is observed, which she begins with, My lord, on Friday before the last assize, my mistress Stout received a letter from Mr. Cowper's wife, to let her know we must expect Mr. Cowper at the assize; and accordingly we expected him, and provided for his coming.' This was the same day on which he says he received her letter of invitation that she received his wife's, by which he invited himself down. So that if she had really writ that letter, his wife's must needs be writ and sent the day before her's could come to his bands. And how those letters should be known to come from Sarah Stout is very unaccountable: for if there had been such a person as Mrs. Jane Ellen at that coffee-house he mentions, (which, upon enquiry, we cannot hear there was), what he had to do to open her letters? and how could he tell that they were for him, and came from Sarah Stout, seeing they were not directed to him, nor either S. Cowper nor S. Stout within them, but only Sir? To prove these letters to be her hand, he brings his friend Marshall to shew letters which he pretended she writ to him, as false as the other; in one of which there were thanks for his songs. It is very unlikely that she should desire or accept of songs, one who was never heard to sing a song in her life; and from Marshall too, whose courtship she never received: for he himself said at the trial, that upon very little trial she gave him a very fair denial. And Spencer Cowper also said to the coroner's inquest, that Marshall told him, she always gave him the repulse. This confirms the falseness of that story which he brings to introduce his letters. And although she is gone, and not in a capacity to defend herself; yet the woman who he says walked with them is alive, and doth affirm it is not true; which is as followeth : He says, It happened one evening that Mrs. Stout, and another, and Mr. Marshall, and he, were walking together; and Mr. Marshall and the other being a little before, she took that opportunity to speak to him, in such terms as he confessed it surprized him, and said, she did not think he had been so dull: he desiring to know wherein his dulness did consist; she asked, if he thought she would marry Marshall? He said, Yes; else she had done ill in what she had done: she said, No; she thought it -might serve to divert the censure of the world, and favour her acquaintance with him. This discourse, if it had been true, would have argued, that she kept Marshall company, and made him believe she would have him: whereas it seems she had never seen him in all her life but once, and that was but two or three days before; and they were not so much acquainted then, as to speak one to the other: and therefore there could be no ground for such discourses if she had walked alone with Spencer Cowper, which she did not; for the two young women having been taking a walk in the field, as they were coming home they met Spencer Cowper and Marshall; and they both turned, and walked back before, and the two young women together behind him: and she had no private discourse at all with Spencer Cowper; neither had they four any walk together afterwards, in the field or elsewhere. These letters, which were ushered in by this discourse, he would have it thought that the shewing of them was so tender a point with him, and that he did it with so much reluctancy and compulsion, that nothing else should have forced him to have brought them upon the stage, if he had not those three innocent gentlemen to defend (surely they had greatly obliged him); and he solemnly protested, that if he had stood there singly upon his own life, on that evidence, he would not have done it: when at the same time, and with the same breath, he himself proved it false; for he says, upon the receiving of them, he shewed one to his brother, and both to Marshall, and they both saw it, and read it: that was the last, the Friday before that assize, when neither his own life nor his three gentlemen's were in any danger; for she was then alive. And if there had been such letters of her's, he could not have shewed them to one that in all probability would have exposed or defamed her more than Marshall, a repulsed lover, a kinsman of his wife's, unto whom he endeavoured to betray her; who, upon some slight or disgust she gave him, told Spencer Cowper, that if he was his friend, he would shoot her. This she told both her own and her mother's maid: and also, as it is observed in the Hertford Letter, the printers, who writ the trial in short-hand, not having taken those letters, were favoured with the copies of them, to be exposed to the world. Then there was an account given to the judge, in the court, of his going to Deptford, and was said to be told his father at dinner in her hearing, about a year and a half before; which put her into a swoon, if any body will believe it: and the use that was made of this was, to render her as bad as possible, and make the world believe how deeply she was in love with him. But it is matter of admiration to most that hear it, that he did not tell his wife, as well as his father and brother, how fond she was of him: if it had been true, surely that would have diverted her from frequenting her company so often as she did all that summer following, as is before mentioned, which all the neighbourhood can witness. And if she was such a person as they now render her, why did they seek and desire her company, as they did? For she has several times said, she never sought theirs. And also, it is as much to be wondered at, that so chaste a man as he would appear to be, and one in so flourishing a condition, as he says he is, should order his wife to write, or have any thoughts of lodging at a house, for saving the charge of a guinea (for so he said at his trial, that his good husbandry to save a guinea had brought all that mischief upon him), where so lewd a woman as he would have her thought to be did dwell, if he had been really invited; which sure enough he was not, but invited himself; and so she told her mother before he came. But it is plainly to be understood, that the respect she had for him, was not as for one that she believed to be viciously inclined, but as for an honest man; as appeared by the trust she reposed in him; and also his being related to that family, whom she, as well as her relations, did so highly value and esteem, that she could have put not only her money, but her life into any one of their hands. done the same, if they had been suffered to speak; but, as the trial relates, they were stopped. Many observations might be made, and instances given, to clear her reputation, and to prove the falseness of what was cast upon her; as, in particular, her so earnestly inviting a young woman, an acquaintance of bers, who had kept her company that afternoon, and used to lie with her sometimes, to stay and lie with her that night her death was; and she telling her, she could not well stay then, she engaged her to come and dine with her the next day, and told her what was for dinner; desiring her company all day after, she not intending to go from home; which she promised to do. And it is very observable, from the beginning of the trial to the end, what shifts and devices he is forced to make use of to drill out the time, that there might not be enough for the witShe little thought what sort of a man she had nesses on the other side to be heard; and also to deal with; she was so deceived by his his endeavouring to baffle the evidence against seeming sobriety when in her company, and him; as first, above twenty frivolous questhe great pretended kindness to her by him and tions he asked her maid about poison, which his wife, both for her own sake and her fa- she bought to poison a mischievous dog which ther's, she could not imagine that a branch of haunted the house; and if he could by any that family could have touched a hair of her means confuse and put her out, if she had not head, to have hurt her, or have wronged her of had truth on her side, and gladly would have one farthing she was so honest and plain- picked something out of it, if he could have hearted, and so innocent herself, and so far told what. from deserving any ill usage from him, or any of that family, or indeed from any else, that she, as well as her relations, could have served them to the utmost of their power: but what returns of kindness have been made, and how she hath been treated and defamed, now she is gone, and not in a capacity to defend or answer for herself, let the world judge. But it is evident and plain, that most, or chiefly what he made use of at his trial, to defend himself and his three gentlemen, when he was not upon his oath, is proved false, even by what himself did swear when he was examined by the coroner's inquest: for when they asked him, if he knew any thing that troubled or put her into a discontent, or discerned she was melancholy, or knew any one she was in love with, or any cause why she should drown herself? Unto all which he answered, No, upon his oath; he discerned nothing of melancholy, neither knew he any that she was in love with: he knew one Marshall that was in love with her, but she had none for him, but always gave him the repulse; and she was a very modest woman, and he knew no cause why she should drown herself. And yet at his trial both he and his witnesses pretended to know her to be so melancholy as was near to a distraction: and this depth of melancholy he would insinuate as for love of him; and therefore she drowned herself. Now what can be more contradictory, or more fully prove that which he spake at his trial to be false, than this which he himself did swear? And this was evidenced by two of the Coroner's inquest, and several more would have Also, the many impertinent witnesses he calls to prove his intention to lodge at Bardford's that night her death was, and sending for his bag thither, and lodging his things there; which it seems was not at all expected by them, for John Bardford's wife said, upon her oath, she believed Spencer Cowper did not intend to lodge at her house? But was surprised when he sent to her, between eleven and twelve o'clock at night, to get his bed ready, and came before it was quite done. And the next night after, when he was sent for by the coroner's inquest to give an account where he left her, he said, in the parlour where we sat. And being asked, if he did not hear her bid her maid warm his bed? He said, I thought she had meant her own bed. But it is very unlikely that she would go to bed and leave him sitting there; or that when he went out she should sit still, and not light him to the door. But if it were as he says, that he left her in the parlour; for a man of his education and figure in the world to go away at that time of night, when he knew there was a fire in his chamber, and his bed was a warming, and let himself out in the dark, and say nothing to any body, it certainly looks very darkly. And then his sending for his horse three times to her mother's house the night after her death, before he was examined by the coroner's inquest, and would have gone out of town then, if he could have had him, as he confessed to the lord chief justice Holt; but at the trial he said, I sent for him, for fear the lord of the manor should seize him. Also, when it was taken notice of at his trial, by the counsel, that he never came after that night her death was, to give her mother any account where he left her, or in any wise to give her satisfaction; to this he answered, It might be strange for me to come and visit a woman that I never had the least knowledge of: And yet he had several times lodged at her house when her husband was living. And that night also, that he was examined by the corouer's inquest, when they asked him, if he discerned her daughter to be melancholy? He said, No; only he thought she was not so free in discourse at dinner as sometimes he had seen her; for most of the discourse then was between her mother and him. Surely he will be hard put to it to reconcile himself in this discourse. And it is very remarkable, what great dissimulation be manifested at that time; for in his discourse, he taking occasion to speak of the people called Quakers, he expressed so great love for them, and for their principles, that if ever he changed his religion, he said, it should be for theirs: Notwithstanding he derided them so much at his trial, about their being by education intitled to the light within. Thus, in short, upon the whole matter, it may be concluded, that the defence he had made for himself and his three gentleinen, and the most material things he made use of, whereby they got off, and were acquitted, were proved false out of his own mouth before he went out of the court; as it may be seen in the trial, where the counsellor for the king says thus: My lord, we insist upon it, that 'this is a different evidence from what Mr. Cowper gave to the coroner's inquest; for 'then he said, he knew none she was in love 'with, nor any cause why she should do such an extravagant action as to drown herself. 'But now he would make the whole scheme of things turn upon a love fit.' And then he moved the court to give leave to call several persons of quality and good repute, who were there present, to speak to her reputation, in contradiction to the letters produced; declaring, that he believed the whole town would do the same. Then the judge said, they would grant that; and did not question it. So there was none permitted to say any thing to that purpose. 406. The Trial of MARY BUTLER alias STRICKLAND, at the Old Bailey, for Forging a Bond of 40,000/. in the Name of Robert Clayton:* 11 WILLIAM III. October 12, 1699. Cl. of Arr. BRING Mary Butler to the bar. Accordingly she was brought.] 6 A. d. 1699. terwards, viz. the 1st day of December, in the 7th year aforesaid, at London aforesaid, in the parish and ward aforesaid, a certain false and forged writing, sealed in form of a bond, in the name of the said sir Robert Mary Butler alias Strickland, you stand in- Clayton, for the payment of the penal sum of dicted by the name of Mary Butler alias 40,000l. by the said sir Robert Clayton, to Strickland, late of London, widow; for that' you Mary Butler alias Strickland, with con'you endeavouring, and maliciously intending, dition under written, concerning, among other to deceive and oppress sir Robert Clayton, things, the payment of 20,000l., to be made knight and alderman of London, the 1st day to you Mary Butler alias Strickland, after the of December, in the 7th year of his now ma- death of the said sir Robert Clayton, by his 'jesty's reign, at London aforesaid, in the pa- heirs, executors or administrators, as a true rish of St. Mary Woolnoth, in the ward of bond of the said sir Robert Clayton, as if Langhorne, a certain false writing, sealed in really made by him; falsely, subtilly, and form of a bond, bearing date the 14th day of deceitfully, did publish, you Mary Butler alias April, 1687, in the name of the said sir Ro-Strickland well knowing the said writing to bert Clayton, for the payment of the penal 'be false, forged and counterfeited, and not the 'sum of 40,000l., to be made by the said sir deed of the said sir Robert Clayton, to the Robert Clayton to you Mary Butler alias 'great damage of the said sir Robert Clayton, Strickland, with condition there under writ- to the evil example of all others in the like ten; concerning, among other things, the case offending, against the of our sovepeace payment of 20,000l., to be made to you Mary' reign lord the king, his crown and dignity.' Butler alias Strickland, after the death of the said sir Robert Clayton, by his heirs, executors, and administrators; falsely, knowingly, unlawfully, and subtilly did make, 'counterfeit and write, and cause to be made, 'counterfeited and written : And further, that you, Mary Butler alias Strickland, af For the law of Forgery, see East's Pleas of the Crown, c. 19. VOL. XIII. alias Strickland, art thou guilty of this forgery Cl. of Arr. How sayest thou, Mary Butler whereof thou standest indicted, or not guilty? Prisoner. Not guilty. Cl. of Arr. Prisoner, look to your challenges. Cryer, swear the jury, which follow: William Clark, William Christopher, Thomas Wharton, George Kimble, James Church, John Whistler, George Ludlam, Richard, 4 L |