TRIAL OF JOHN TAWELL. 129 



to take place, he came in with his warder through another 

 door. He seemed completely paralyzed at the sight of 

 his wife, and turned deadly pale ; a poor, insignificant 

 little man in his Quaker's garb, looking utterly miserable. 

 This lady bore her husband one child, a boy, whom she 

 named after his father. Although urged to give him her 

 widowed name of Cutforth, she sternly refused, and to 

 the end she believed in her husband's innocence. 



Tawell was hung on a cold March morning ; the snow 

 laid thickly on the ground, and the wind swept a driving 

 sleet against the upturned faces of the thousands of 

 people — many of them, I am sorry to say, women — who 

 thronged the Market Square at Aylesbury ; and when 

 the bolt was drawn, the wind so buffeted about the 

 wretched little body of the murderer, that it was believed 

 by many he was struggling still for half an hour after- 

 wards. Calcraft, the executioner, however, declared that 

 the man died instantly. 



Tawell's confession had been given by him to the 

 Rev. Mr. Cox, the chaplain of the prison, who, however, 

 refused to disclose its contents, saying it was given under 

 the seal of confession to a priest, a course of action that 

 at the time was severely criticized. 



Mr. Sheriff, the governor of the gaol, stated that the 

 accused man had actually confessed his guilt the night 

 before his execution, admitting that he had administered 

 the poison in the bottled porter, and that he had made 

 the like attempt in the October previous with morphia, 

 but without success. He further led Mr. Sheriff to 

 believe that he had also tried to poison his son's widow 

 on the same evening at Islington, having ordered bottled 



