HISTORIC TRAGEDIES OF LONDON LIFE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 7238, 26 October 1901, Page 1

HISTORIC TRAGEDIES OF LONDON LIFE.

(By W. W. HUTCHINGS.) No. 11. THE BEAUTIFUL MISS RAY AND HER CLERICAL LOVER. [All Eiuhts Reserved.] In the melancholy story now to be related, the terror which is the note of most tiagedies is quite swallowed up in pity — pity far the lovely and charming victim, whose amiable, if not innocent, life was suddenly cut short by violence, and pity aUo for the man whose frenzied jealousy goaded! him to a crime that filled him with intolerable remorse and brought him to a shameful as well as untimely end. Seldom has. London been so stirred as.it was 'by the news that flew from mouth to moutih on the morning of the Bth of April, 1779, that the beautiful Miss Ray, the mis-, tress of t'hei Earl of Sandwich, First Lord of the Admiralty, had bsen murdered. The whole story of her connection with this profligate statesman, and afterwards with the man who slew her, is so singular and romantic that even Horace Walpole,. who had heard a good many curious tales in his duy, speaks of ib as the strangest affair he had ever heard of. • Miss Ray Ti'as of 'humble origin. She was born at the pretty tillage of Elstree, in Hertfordshire, on the road between Ed'gware and St. Albans, her father being an agricultural 'labourer. As she grew in years none could fail to be struck by her exceeding beauty ; and to beauty she added vivacity, and to vivacity the charm of a sweet and sunny disposition. j.How a way to t(he great city was opened v* for Martha Ray we know not, but while still a child she was apprenticed to a mantua-maker in derkenwell Close. Having served hex time, she found a situation in a shop in the vicinity of Covent Garden, and here it was that she came to the knowledige of the Earl of Sandwich, who, dt is said, . dropped in to buy*a pair of gloves, was smitten by her charms, and instantly ■detemmned 1 to cull for foanself this sweet flower from the countryside. Martha Bay, probably, kuew only by vague rumour the character of the man, more than old' "enough to, be iber father, ffkm h«r charms had fascinated. His profligacy had been ome of the scandals of the. age. In his" early man-hood he ihad. held important offices in the Government, bub in middle life, released from official cares and responsibHitdes, he joined the Metdmenhami Abbey brotherhood, whose blasphemous orgies had shocked even men who made no- claim to virtue. Such was the man- who now prevailed upon Martha Ray to place herself under his protection. Accordingly she gave up her situation, and went through a course of training in the accomplishments that then constituted female education. An apt pupil, the girl soon acquired the graces of spe*tib *wi>d" d£porfcment-aßd-~con-sideirable proficiency in the art of music It is significant of the moral temper of the times that as soon as her education was finished Lord 1 Sandwich gave her a place in the family circle at Ms Huntingdonshire seat. Nor was this all, for when, after a while, he 'became First Naval Lord, he installed her at the Admiralty, and her portrait had a place of honour on its walls. But though an irregular connection was thus flaunted '■ in the very face of society, Mies Riay bore herself with such unfadling circumspection as to win the goodwill of all who came into contact with 'her, and' it i« on record that a bishop's wife, visiting at Hinidhinbrooke, was so charmed' by her sweet and winsome manners and her goodness of heart, that she was pained not to be able to follow up the acquainta-r.ee. So things went on for a succession of years. Miss Ray bore her protector several children, one of whom, by the way, was afterwards known among men as Basil Montague, the eminent Queen's Counsel, who .survived until 1851. She never lost her influence over Lord Sandwich, which speaks volumes for her attractions. But now a disturbing influence came into her life, in the person of young Captain Hackman, of the 68t*h Foot, stationed' at Huntingdon. While on recruiting service in the Hinchinbrooke country, lie was invited to the housg, and soon became a frequent visitor. He qiiickly succumbed to her charm©, and she appears in some measure to have returned his affection. His wish to marry htr was decided and unalterable, but »he never seems quite to have known her own mind. Assflhetcild him that she "did not choose to carry a knapsack," he sold his commission, took lioly orders, and in due course becatfia Vicar of Wvverbon, in Norfolk. ■ Early in their acquaintance a correspondence, particularly ardent, and even ecstatic, on his side, had begun. He was not long in showing that, though by no means devoid' of conscience or of refinement of feelling, there was in his nature a morbid strain which issued: in explosions of jealousy. Thus at the end of 1775, when ■their love story was only in its first chapter, we find him deploring his jealous violence. " Your cofi'descensio'n," lie wrote, " in relieving my mo** groundless cause of jealousy yesterday was more than I deserved. How I exposed myself by my violence with you! But I tell you my passions are all gunpowder !" A letter written more than two years later, in March 1778, has a quite peculiar significance, as my readers will soon fee f::r themselves. He tells Miss Ray the story of a love-tragedy that had just been enacted. An Italian, Oppi by name, the rejected lover U' 'a, Mis Knightly, had forced his way to her room, a pistol in', each hand, ha<l shot her dead with one weapon, and with the other 'had fired at himself, but without inflicting a morhtl i wound. The murderer's plea was that his design was not- to harm the lady, but only to shoot himself in her presence ; and upon this Hackman. remarks that "whatever h'.s despair meant with regard to his own life, he certainly was determined' to take away hers." He then exposes the folly of murder and suicide in saich circumstances, and adds: "I mu^'t rejoice that he (the murderer), was not of the same country, while I lament, that he was of the Mime order of lyings with myself." Peer -human nature! I True, indeed, is tho old 1 word that the heart of man is "deceitful above all things." Although the morbid element in Hackman's letters becomes more and more prominent, the course of love appears t» have run fairly smooth, and on the Ist of March, 1779, he wrote : "In a month or six weeks, at farthest, from this time, I might certainly call you mine. . . . By to-night's post I shall write into Norfolk about the alterations at our parsonage." But now, a.l most suddenly, the current turned awry. ! Precisely what it was that led to a breach between the lovers will probably never be known for certain. But it would seem that Lord having reason for suspect- ]

ing that Hackm.an and his mistress were in secret correspondence, placed her under tlhe supervision of a Signora Galli, who had been connected with the Italian Opera, and it has be«n conjectured that the Signcra served her employer's interests only too effectively, for besides keeping watch over her charge she made communications to Hackman with the view of arousing his jealousy and provoking Mm to break off the connection. The woman must have played her cards cleverly, for within three weeks of the letter in which he speaks of " our parsonage " he writes to a friend in the very' depths of despair, and a few days later the thought of death, for himself, at any_ rate, had taken hold of his mind. " What, then, have I to do, who ooly Kved when she loved me, but cease to Jive now she ceases to love?" < ■ Just after this, on the evening of April 7, 1779, Miss Ray, with her duenna, went to Covent Garden Theatre: She had declined to tell Hackman how she was going to be occupied, but he was in. waiting in Cockspur Street. Charing Cress, and saw her carriage pass up from the Admiralty towards the theatre,. Ho followed and entered the theatre. The piece was '"Love in a VillagV; but he., was too much engrossed with his own emotions to have any thought for the feelings that were being mimicked before the footlights, jfer there, in a front box, was Miss Ray, with her duenna, and, hovering about' her, paying assiduous court, were three gentlemen, all cf them connected with the Admiralty. For gentlemen to mako themselves agreeable to a charming *woma.n at the play is an ordinary enough incident; but Hackman's mind by this time was in a ferment, and the sight exasperated his jealousy beyond control. His restlessness and agitation excited notice. He wandered from the lobby to the upper boxes, ami back again to the lobby, and .more than once went out to a tavern to drink brandy. Nor was she, for her part, happy. She seems to have had some vague presentment of coming calamity. One of her friends commented upon a 'beautiful rosei which she was wearing in her bosonr, and as the words were uttered, the flower fell to the ground. " I hope I am not to consider this an omen !" she nervously remarked. . An omen, alas ! it was. When the play ended, and the ladies sallied forth, Hackman, all unknown to them, was lying in wait, armed, like the Italian, assassin.' with, two pistols. There was rome little difficulty in getting a coach, and an Irish barrister of Miss Ray's acquaintance, a Mr Macnamnra, offered his assistance. Probably this little incident was the immediate? .cause of the tragedy. Tn the crush Hackman bad found it impossible to attract Miss Ray's notice, and it is not unlikely, as ih« afterwards said, that owing to this circumstance he was about to go off in another direction. But nojtr-Mr Macnamara came forward,, and, believing that in him he saw the favoured lover of whom he had been warned by the Signora, he was carried outside of himself by an access of jealous fury, and, striding forward just as Miss Ray was about t> follow her attendant jnto the coach, and pulling her gown to make her turn towards him. he drew from his pockets with each hand a pistol, shot the lady with cr.e, and discharged the other at his own brad. Missi Ray at once fell, without even a cry. A moment afterwards h:r murderer dropped down also. " They fell foot to foot,'* was the expression of a Ccvent Gardtn fruit-woman, who. raw. all that happ€ift'd. v ThVsfcrtet •'was crowdMwith people ; streaming cut of the theatre, and at the explosion and the sight of tie prostrate forms, there was wild commotion. One of the forms, that of the lady, lay, still enough; the oth«r was not tven stunned, and the bystanders were horrified to see the man, as he lay en the ground, begm madly to belabour his head with the butt end of his pistol, in a vain endeavour to beat out his own brains. At last an apothecary of the neighbourhood wrenched the weapon from his hands, and took him off to his shop to dress" his wounds. Mass Ray they bore into the " Shakespeare ! tavern, hard by, and by the time a surgeon had been fetched to examine her she was found to be dead. \ • As soon as his wounds had been seen to. Hackman also was taken to the " Shakespeare." He at first aeked to-be allowed to s«e Miss Ray, and on learning that she was dead', expressed a wh-h that her poor remains " might nob be exposed to tie observation di the curious multitude Word of the murder was at once sent to Sir Joim FiekVng the blind police magistrate (brother of Henry Fielding, the novelist), wno lived at Broonpton. He immediately got up and set out for the scene of the tragedy, and finding that Hackman's injuries were not serious, ordered his removal to Tothill Fields prison. News was also, of course, sent to Lord Sand-wich at the- Admiralty, and we are told by Croker that on learning what had befallen his mistress he stood as it were petrified, till suddenly, seizing a j candle, he ran upstairs, 'threw himself on a bed, and in an agony exclaimed, "Leave me to myself. I could have borne anything but this!" ' . In those days Justice moved witfo swoit steps. Two days after the murder (the 9tih) Hackman was brought before Sir John Fielding andi committed to Newgate to stand his trial at the Old Bailey. At this preliminary examination he wept bitterly, and was convulsed with emotion every time j his victim's name was mentioned 1 , and his j grief was so obviously sincere that none : coula forbear to pity hrn. In letters to a friend, he declares that his death is all the recompense he can offer to the laws of his countiy, and protests: that, until tie instant before* the fatal sbot, 'lie had no design against Miss Ray's life. " I had charged' my pistols with the kindest letter she ever wrote me, and which had: ever since been my talisman. I met them in the stone passage and had then got the pistol to my forehead, but she didn't see me (nor did anyone else, I suppose), and the crowd separated us. The accident I considered as the immediate intervention of Providence. I put up my -pistol, turned about, and should, I most firmly believe, have gone out the other way and laid aside my horrid, resolution [to kll myself] , had I not looked! round and seen Mr Macnamara — who I .immediately construed into the favoured lover , described by Ciailli — offer a hand, which, I thought, was received with great pleasure. | The stream of mad passions, which had stopped, now overwhelmed me with redoubled violence. Jealousy suggested anew crime, and nerved anew the arm of despair." Hackman had only to lie in Newgate a week before his trial, which took place on the 16th of April, before Justice Blackstone, the famous author of the Commentaries. The prisoner bore himself with dignity and fortitude, and his brief addfess to the* Court, when the witnesses had told their story, was a model of good' taste and right feeling. With shame he confessed to the resolution he had formed to take his own life, but lie solemnly protested that he had plain Miss Ray without premeditation and in a momentary frenzy. " I have no wish/ lie finally declared, "to- avoid the punishment which the laws of my country appoint for my crime ; but being already too unhappy to feel a punishment in death, or a satisfaction in life, I submit myself, with penitence and patience, to the disposal and judgment of Almighty God, and t<> the consequences of this enquiry into my conduct and intentions." The judge pointed out that the premeditation necessary to mnvert an a^t of homicif?A into

the crime of murder was not necessarily " a long form of deliberation " ; and the jury, powerfully influenced, no doubt, by the fact that the prisoner had furnished himself with two pistols, had little hesitation in returning a veirdiict of guilty. The question whether, up till the appearance of Mr Macnamara, Hackman had intended to kill Miss Ray, or had only determined upon suicide, was much- canvassed at the time. It was discussed, in the Johnson" circle,; and when Boswell, who had been present at the trial; repeated Hackman's prayer to Heaven for mercy, Dr Johnson exclaimed 1 , in ai solemn, fervent tone, " I hope he shall find mercy !" Bub Johnson nevertheless held with the judge that, as the man was armed with two pistols,, he probably meant to shoot two persons. ( Hackman's contrition was so sincere,, his whole frame of mind so befitted hia awful- position, and he was so free from any wish to escape the utmost penalty of the law, that his solemn asseveration is not lightly to be pot. aside. . It may well be that up to the i?ioment when .his jealous fury was Btirred> by What he saw in the theatre he had formed no distinct intention of killing the woman who had; withdrawtt from him her love. But, it is all but incredible that a man of jealous bent and furious temper, who was capable of compassing his own death, had never in brooding over his grievance glanced at the thought .of murder ; and the truth probably is — though many have taken a view more favourable to him— 4hat at the sight of what he regarded? as a flirtation between Miss Ray and the gentlemen from the Admiralty, a thought which he had only dallied With hardened 1 into a resolve, and thereupon he primed hia pistols, intending one for his faithk3B lover and the other, for himself. In the belief that his resolve against her was onjv taken when Mr Macnamara came forward, ha may have been quite sincere j but na man who has passed through a crisis of feeling which has murder and attempted suicide for its climax, can be a competent witness as to his own motives and intentions. The day after the trial Lord Sandwich, very much to his credit, wrote thus to the prisoner: — "If the murderer of Miss wishes to live, the man he has most injured will. use all has interest to procure his life." To this Hackman, dating his letter from the condemned cell, replied the same day : — "The murderer of her whom he preferred, far preferred to life, respects the hand! from which he has just received such an offer as. he neither desires nor deserves. His ''wishes are for death, hot life. One wish he has. Could he W pardoned in this world by the man he has most- injured — oh, ( , my l(?xd, when I meet hfir in another world* enable me to -tell her (if departed spirits ara not ignorant of earthly thing!), that you forgive us both, that you will be a fatter 10 her dear infants !" The execution took place at Tyburn^ three days after the sentence, and the twelfth day after I;he murder. Though the sentence was not regarded as unjust, Hackman/seems to have* been an object of general pity ; and the contemporary records declare that never before had there beenr such a crowd at an execution. The criminal was exposed" to to avoidable degradation. His hands were not tied, nor n-aa the halter placed round his neck, before heA left Newgate. At' Tyburn, having mount- , ed the fatal cart, he joined in fervent pray- ! er with the chaplain; and Boswell. . Then, having engaged for six or seven minutes iasihnt devotion, he threw down a handkerchief, in accordance with an arrangement he had- made with the hangman, the horse was driven forward, and he was launched into the unknown. So perished one, who, though he merited his shameful fate, merited also the commiseration which that fate excited iii every humane" and' generout mind. ,