Some Distinguished Victims of the Scaffold. Bleackley Horace
4. The Covent Garden Journal (Sir Alexander Drawcansir), February, March, and April (1752).
5. The London Morning Penny Post, August and September (1751).
6. Gentleman’s Magazine, pp. 376, 486–88 (1751), pp. 108–17, 152, 188, 195 (1752), pp. 47, 151 (1753), p. 803, pt. II. (1783).
7. Universal Magazine, pp. 114–124, 187, 281 (1752).
8. London Magazine, pp. 379, 475, 512(1751), pp. 127, 180, 189(1752), p. 89 (1753).
Notes
Note I.—In recent years the guilt of Cranstoun has been questioned. Yet a supposition that does not explain two damning circumstances must be baseless:
(a) In the first place, one of his letters to Miss Blandy, dated July 18, 1751, was read by Bathurst in his opening speech. Although the reports of the trial do not tell us that the note was produced in court, or that the handwriting was verified, it cannot be presumed that the Crown lawyers were guilty of wilful fabrication. However strange it may appear that this letter alone escaped destruction, it is improbable that Miss Blandy invented it. Had she done so its contents would have been more consistent with her defence. As it stands it is most unfavourable to her. Therefore, in the absence of further evidence, we must conclude that the letter is genuine, and if genuine Cranstoun was an accomplice.
(b) In the second place, the paper containing the poison which was rescued from the fire, is said by the prosecution to have borne the inscription in Cranstoun’s handwriting, ‘Powder to clean the pebbles’ If this had been counterfeit, Miss Blandy would have had no object in destroying it, but would have kept it for her purpose.
At any cost Lord Cranstoun must have been anxious to remove the black stain from his scutcheon. That this was impossible the fact that it was not done seems to prove. Indeed, if Captain Cranstoun had been ignorant of the crime, he could have proved his innocence as soon as Miss Blandy was arrested by producing her letters, which, granting this hypothesis, would have contained no reference that would have incriminated him. That she had written a great deal to him was shown in evidence at the trial by the clerk Lyttleton.
For these reasons it is impossible to accept the conclusion of the writer of Cranstoun’s life in the Dic. Nat. Biog. (who has adopted the assertion in Anderson’s Scottish Nation, vol. i. p. 698), that “apart from Miss Blandy’s statement there is nothing to convict him of the murder.”
Note II.—Anderson’s statement that “there does not appear to be any grounds for supposing that Captain Cranstoun was in any way accessory to the murder,” shows that he had not a complete knowledge of the facts at his disposal, or that he did not weigh them with precision. Miss Blandy’s intercepted letter to her lover affords a strong presumption of his connivance, and her destruction of his correspondence suggests that it contained incriminating details. That these two actions were subtle devices to cast suspicion upon Cranstoun cannot be maintained with any show of plausibility, for in this case Miss Blandy, if dexterous enough to weave such a crafty plot, must have foreseen its exposure, and with such exposure her own inevitable ruin, when to prove that he was not an accomplice her lover had produced the letters she had written to him. Thus to support such an assumption it must be shown that Cranstoun had previously destroyed every particle of her handwriting, and that she was aware of the fact. Of such an improbable circumstance there is, of course, no evidence.
Note III.—“Old Benchers of the Middle Temple,” Essays of Elia. The relative of Miss Blandy, with whom Mr. Samuel Salt was dining when he made the unfortunate remark which Lamb repeats, may have been Mr. Serjeant Henry Stephens of Doctors’ Commons, who was her maternal uncle.
Note IV.—The date of Miss Blandy’s birth is not given in the Dic. Nat. Biog. From the register of Henley Parish Church it appears that she was baptized on July 15, 1720.
Mess. Robert and Daniel
Perreau.
London. Publish’d Jany 22d 1776. According to Act of Parliament.
THE UNFORTUNATE BROTHERS
THE CASE OF ROBERT AND DANIEL PERREAU AND MRS MARGARET CAROLINE RUDD, 1775–6
“What’s this dull town to me?
Robin’s not near;
He whom I wish to see,
Wish for to hear.
Where’s all the joy and mirth,
Made life a heaven on earth?
Oh! they’re all fled with thee,
Robin Adair.”
When tenor Braham sent his plaintive air ringing through the town, few were alive who could recall the two previous occasions on which also the name of Adair was upon every lip. One day in February 1758 all London had been stirred by the elopement of Lady Caroline Keppel, daughter of second Earl Albemarle, with a rollicking Irish physician who may have been the Robert of the ballad; while during the summer of 1775 the whole world was wondering whether a man or a most beautiful woman must go to Tyburn for using the signature of Mr. William Adair, the rich army agent, cousin to Dr. Robin of wedding and song. In the first romance the hero received the just title of ‘the fortunate Irishman’: in the latter the chief personages were ‘the unfortunate brothers’ Messrs Robert and Daniel Perreau. Their disaster happened thus:—
On a Tuesday morning, the 7th of March 1775, a slender, middle-aged gentleman walked into the counting-house of Messrs Drummond, the great bankers of Charing Cross. Garbed in a trim snuff-coloured suit, and betraying none of the macaroni eccentricities with the exception of a gold-laced hat, his dress suited the rôle that he played in life—a sleek and prosperous apothecary. This Mr. Robert Perreau of Golden Square was welcomed cordially by Henry Drummond, one of the partners in the firm, for an apothecary was almost as eminent as a doctor, and the men had met and known each other at such houses as my Lord Egmont’s or that of my Lady Lyttelton. Producing as security a bond for £7500, bearing a signature that should have been honoured by any house in London, the visitor requested a loan of £5000. However, strange to say, banker Henry, who had been joined by his brother Robert, seemed dissatisfied.
“This bond is made payable to you,” he remarked. “Was you present when it was executed?”
“No, I was not present,” was Mr. Perreau’s reply.
“It is not the signature of William Adair, the late army agent of Pall Mall,” was the startling comment of Robert Drummond. “I have seen his drafts many a time!”
The prim countenance of the apothecary remained unperturbed.
“There is no doubt but it is his hand,” he answered, with perfect composure, “for it is witnessed by Mr. Arthur Jones, his solicitor, and by Thomas Stark, his servant.”
“It is very odd,” replied the incredulous Robert Drummond. “I have seen his hand formerly, and this does not appear to be the least like it.”
Brother Henry Drummond echoed the same sentiment, whereupon Mr. Robert Perreau waxed mysterious and emphatic.
“Mr. Adair is my particular friend,” he declared. “There are family connections between us. … Mr. Adair has money of mine in his hands, and allows me interest.”
“Come to-morrow, Mr. Perreau,” said Henry Drummond, “and we will give you an answer.”
Having received this promise the apothecary departed, but after the lapse of two hours he returned, and was seen by banker Henry once more. Without the least reserve he confessed that he had been much concerned by what the Messrs Drummond