In February 1803, Colonel Edward Marcus Despard ascended the scaffold at Horsemonger Lane with the reputation of an officer who had served the Crown for more than thirty years. He acknowledged no part in the treason for which he was to die. “I am no more guilty than any of you who listen to me,” he cried out to the multitude, according to the narrative of Camden Pelham. To understand how this former military engineer came to stand condemned to death, the chronicle traces back decades of service to a single gathering in a Lambeth tavern.
Despard entered the army in 1766. He served in the West Indies and Central America, where his career directed him toward engineering, command, and public works. The chronicle credits him with the recovery of Black River, on the Mosquito Shore, after the inhabitants selected him to lead them against the Spaniards. It records that both the authorities of Jamaica and the King returned him their thanks. In 1783, he was promoted to colonel; the following year, he was appointed commissioner to administer the territory of Honduras, ceded to Great Britain by Spain.
This office cast him into the midst of clashing interests. Inhabitants accused him of misconduct, and their grievances were laid before the King’s ministers. Despard returned to Great Britain and demanded an inquiry. Pelham writes that after two years spent petitioning the departments of state, he was informed that no charge deemed worthy of attention lay against him, and that the office of superintendent had been abolished. He was not, however, reinstated in his post. The chronicle depicts these reverses as a wellspring of resentment, without supplying the documents of the inquiry or the version maintained by the Honduran complainants.
Despard thereafter began to speak with bitterness against the government. Under the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act, he was detained for a time at Coldbath Fields. Upon his release, he formed a society with men whose grievances, according to Pelham, were far less substantial than his own. The police obtained a search warrant and repaired to the Oakley Arms, in Oakley Street, Lambeth.
The constables found Despard and some forty individuals assembled in a room. The company was conveyed before the magistrates for examination. At the close of these proceedings, Despard and thirty-two companions were committed to Horsemonger Lane Gaol to await their trial. A special commission was issued. On February 7, 1803, Despard was the first to be arraigned for high treason.
The Attorney-General contended that the conspirators intended to seize upon the opening of Parliament to lay hold of the King and take his life. They were said to have enlisted soldiers, administered to recruits an unlawful oath hostile to the sovereign, and printed copies of this oath for dissemination. Following the assault, the mail coaches were to be stopped to give signal to their confederates in the provinces; a general insurrection was to ensue. Such was the design set forth by the prosecution and sworn to by Windsor. These allegations are reported by Pelham; the chapter does not supply the original transcript of the trial.
Thomas Windsor stood at the center of the Crown’s case. He stated that he had joined the society, but soon grew suspicious of its designs. He spoke of the matter to a Mr. Bonus, who advised him to remain among the members in order to discover whether persons of consequence were engaged in it. Windsor described the oath, the meetings, and the words spoken by Despard. At an assembly at the Flying Horse, in Newington, Broughton was alleged to have conducted two associates toward a “nice man”: Despard. The latter was said to have spoken of attacking the King as he went to open Parliament, declaring that his “heart was callous” and that he had well weighed the necessity of putting him to death.
Windsor recounted another meeting at Tower Hill. Despard had reportedly requested him to attend with men disposed to join the enterprise, to debate the seizure of the Tower and its arms. Wood, who was to mount guard in the Park, was said to have agreed to fire upon the royal carriage. The authorities apprehended the men before this project could be carried into execution. In Pelham’s telling, the plot was thus established solely through the words imputed to the members and the depositions at the bar: no assault upon the King ever took place.
Despard’s counsel, Mr. Serjeant Best and Mr. Gurney, assailed the credibility of Windsor. They called to the stand Lord Nelson, Sir A. Clarke, and Sir E. Nepean, who bore witness to the prisoner’s reputation as an officer of zeal and valour. This defense rested upon his character; it did not reply directly to each scene narrated by Windsor. Following the summing-up of Lord Ellenborough, the jury returned a verdict of guilty against Despard, while recommending the prisoner to mercy on account of his former services. The trials of the remaining prisoners followed. Pelham records that twelve were convicted upon similar evidence, and that three of them were recommended to the clemency of the Crown.
Upon receiving his sentence, Despard broke the silence he had hitherto observed. He denied having seduced any soldiers into the conspiracy and maintained that the jury ought not to have convicted him upon the evidence adduced. The dread sentence for traitors was pronounced. On Saturday, February 19, the warrant of execution reached the gaol, appointing the following Monday. The penalty was, however, mitigated: the disemboweling prescribed by law was remitted. The warrant directed the execution of Despard, Francis, Wood, Broughton, Wratton, Macnamara, and Graham; three other convicts—Newman, Tyndal, and Lander—were respited.
The intelligence of the warrant reached Despard in his cell. He observed that the interval was brief, though he had scarcely expected the jury’s recommendation to take effect. An intervention by Nelson and a petition to the King availed nothing. His wife, whom Pelham notes to have been a native of the Bay of Honduras, was at first overwhelmed, but displayed fortitude when she came to take her leave of him. The wives of the other prisoners were likewise admitted. At dawn on Sunday, workmen erected the scaffold upon the roof of the gaol, while police officers and military guards maintained a constant watch.
On Monday, February 21, five of the condemned men repaired to the chapel: Broughton, Francis, Graham, Wood, and Wratton joined in prayer with the Reverend Mr. Winkworth. Before the administration of the sacrament, four acknowledged having acted improperly, but denied the gravity of the crimes imputed to them. Graham protested his innocence of the charges, while admitting he had attended two meetings. The chaplain hesitated to administer the sacrament to Francis, who insisted he had committed no crime, but at length brought him to acknowledge that he had at least done wrong in frequenting the assemblies. Despard and Macnamara were then brought down from their cells, their irons struck off and their arms pinioned. Observing the sledge and the apparatus of death, the colonel derided what he termed an “absurd mummery.”
The procession reached the platform toward half past eight o’clock. Macnamara, then Graham, Wratton, Broughton, Wood, and Francis were bound to the beam. Despard was the last. He preserved his composure while the cord was adjusted, himself assisting in fixing the knot, according to Pelham. Before the drop fell, he addressed the gathered citizens. He recalled his thirty years of service, asserted his innocence, and accused the King’s ministers of employing a legal pretext to destroy him because he had stood forth as the advocate of truth, liberty, justice, and the poor. He prayed that these principles might yet triumph over tyranny and falsehood. The chronicler observes that his voice faltered for an instant, after which he concluded by wishing the crowd health, happiness, and freedom.
The men were hanged, and their bodies afterwards decapitated in accordance with the judgment then executed upon convicts of high treason. The executioner exhibited Despard’s head to the multitude, proclaiming it to be that of a traitor, whereat the crowd hooted and hissed. Pelham describes a vast concourse of spectators, though marked by no tumult. His final public appearance left unresolved the division occasioned by the trial: a jury had pronounced him guilty while recommending him to mercy, while he had met his death repeating that he was innocent.