Cl. of Cr. Edward Coleman, hold up thy hand. Thou hast been indicted of high treason, thou hast thereunto pleaded Not Guilty; thou hast put thyself upon God and thy country, which country hath found thee Guilty; What canst thou say for thyself, wherefore judgment of death should not be given against thee, and an execution awarded according to law?

Mr. Coleman. May it please you, my lord, I have this to say for myself; As for my papers, I humbly hope, (setting aside Oral Testimony) that I should not have been found guilty of any crime in them, but what the act of grace would have pardoned, and I hope I shall have the benefit of that; The evidence against me, namely Oral, I do humbly beg that you would be pleased to give me a little time to shew you, how impossible it is that those testimonies should be true; For that testimony of Mr. Oates in August, my man, that is now either in the court or hall, hath gotten a book that is able to make it appear, that I was out of town from the 15th of August to the 31st of August late at night.

L. C. J. That will not do, Mr. Coleman. Coleman. I do humbly offer this, for this reason; because Mr. Oates, in all his other evidences, was so punctual, as to distinguish between Old Stile and New, he never missed the month, hardly the week, and oftentimes put the very day; for his testimony that he gave against me, was, that it was the 21st of August.

L. C. J. He thought so, but he was not positive, but only as to the month.

Coleman. He was certain it was the latter end of August, and that about Bartholomewtide.

L. C. J. He conceived so, he thought so. Coleman. Now if I was always out of town from the 15th day of August, to the 31st late at night, it is then impossible, my lord, that should be a true testimony. Your lordship was pleased to observe, that it would much enervate any man's testimony, to the whole, if he could be proved false in any one thing. I have further in this matter to say, besides my man's testimony, the king hath, since I have been seized on, seized on my papers and my book of accounts, where I used punctually to set down where I spent my money; and if it doth not appear by that book that I was all those days and times, and several other days in August, to be out of town, I desire no favour. You cannot suppose, my lord, nor the world be lieve, that I prepared that book for this purpose in this matter; and I can make it appear by others, if I had time; but I only offer this to your lordship, that seeing Mr. Oates did name so many particulars and circumstances, it is very strange, that he should fail in a particular of such importance as about killing the king; and no man living of common sense would think or believe that I should speak about such a thing in company that I did not well know, and this to be done frequently and oftentimes, as he asserts it; when Oates seemed to the king and

council (and I believe the king himself remembers it) when I was examined, that he did not know me, that he knew nothing of me, so that here is two things against this witness that can hardly happen again. My circumstances are extraordinary, and it is a great providence, and I think your lordship and the whole world will look upon it as such, if for any crimes that are in my papers, if there be any mercy to be shewed me by the king's gracious act of pardon, I humbly beg that I may have it. L. C. J. None.

Coleman. If none, I do humbly submit; but I do humbly hope with submission, that those papers would not have been found treasonable papers.

L. C. J. Those letters of yours, Mr. Coleman, were since the act of pardon; your papers bear date 1671, 1675, and there hath been no act since. But as for what you say concerning Mr. Oates, you say it in vain now, Mr. Coleman, for the jury bath given in their verdict, and it is not now to be said, for after that rate we shall have no end of any man's trial; but for your satisfaction, Mr. Coleman, to the best of my remembrance, Mr. Oates was positive only as to the month of August, he thought it might be about the 21st day, or about Bartholomew fair time; but he was absolute in nothing but the month.

Coleman. He was punctual in all his other evidences, but in this he was not; and when I was examined at the council table, he said he knew little of me.

L. C. J. He charged you positively for having held conspiracy to poison the king; and that there was 10,000l. to be paid for it, and afterwards there was 5,000l, more to be added; and he positively charges you to be the person that amongst all the conspirators was reputed to pay the 5,000l.

Coleman. He said it after such a fashion.

L. C. J. He said it after such a fashion that sir Robert Southwell and sir Thomas Doleman satisfied us that he did the thing, and that plainly to his understanding; and what say you he said?

Coleman. That he did not know me. L. C. J. Neither of them say so, that he said he did not know you, they deny it. Coleman. He said so, upon my death. L. C. J. It is in vain to dispute it further, there must be an end.

Crier, make O Yes! Our sovereign lord the king doth straitly charge and command all persons to keep silence while Judgment is given upon the prisoner convict, upon pain of impri

sonment.

L. C. J. You are found guilty, Mr. Coleman, of high treason, and the crimes are several that you are found guilty of. You are found guilty of conspiring the death of the king; you are likewise found guilty of endeavouring to subvert the Protestant religion as it is by law established, and to bring in popery, and this by the aid and assistance of foreign powers. And I would not have you, Mr. Coleman, in your

last apprehension of things, to go out of the world with a mistake, if I could help it; that is, I would not have you think, that though you only seem to disavow the matter of the death of the king, that therefore you should think yourself an innocent man. You are not ianocent, I am sure; for it is apparent by that which cannot deceive, that you are guilty of contriving and conspiring the destruction of the Protestant religion, and to bring in Popery, and that by the aid and assistance of foreign powers, and this no man can free you in the least from. And know, that if it should be true, that you would disavow, that you had not an actual hand in the contrivance of the king's death (which two witnesses have sworn positively against you: Yet he that will subvert the Protestant religion here, and bring in consequently a foreien suthority, does an act in derogation of the craxs, and in diminution of the king's title and sovereign power, and endeavours to bring a foreign dominion both over our consciences and estates. And if any man shall endeavour to subvert our religion to bring in that, though he Gid not actually contrive to do it by the death of the king, or it may be not by the death of any one man, yet whatsoever' follows upon that contrivance, he is guilty of; insomuch it is greatly to be feared, that though you meant only to bring it in by the way of dissolving of parlaments, or by liberty of conscience, and such kind of innocent ways as you thought; yet if so be those means should not have proved efectual, and worse should have been taken (though by others of your confederates) for to go through with the work, as we have great reason to believe there would, you are guilty of all that blood that would have followed. But still you say you did not design that thing; but to tell you, he that doth a stuful and unlawful act, must answer, and is hable both to God and man, for all the consequences that attend it, therefore I say you ought not to think yourself innocent. It is possible you may be penitent, and nothing remains but that. And as I think in your church you allow of a thing called attrition, if you cannot with our church have contrition, which is a sorrow proceeding from love, pray make use of attrition, which is a sorrow arising from fear. For you may assure yourself, there are but a few moments betwixt you and a vast eternity where will be no dallying, no arts to be used, therefore think on all the good you can do in this little space of time that is left you; all is little enough to wipe off (besides your private and secret offences) even your public ones. do know that confession is very much owned in your church, and you do well in it; but as your offence is public, so should your confession be; and it will do you more service than all your auricular confessious. Were I in your case, there should be nothing at the bottom of my heart that I would not disclose. Perchance you may be deluded with the fund hopes of having your sentence respited. Trust not to t, Mr. Coleman. You may be flattered to

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stop your mouth, till they have stopped your breath, and I doubt you will find that to be the event. I think it becomes you as a man, and as a christian, to do all that is now in your power, since you cannot be white, to make yourself as clean as you can, and to fit yourself for another world, where you will see how vain all resolutions of obstinacy, of concealment, and all that sort of bravery which perhaps may be instilled by some men, will prove. They will not then serve to lessen, but they will add to your fault. It concerns us no farther than for your own good, and do as God shall direct you; for the truth is, there are persuasions and inducements in your church to such kind of resolutions and such kind of actions, which you are led into by false principles and false doctrines (and so you will find when you come once to experiment it, as shortly you will) that hardly the religion of a Turk would own. But when Christians by any violent bloody act attempt to propagate religion, they abuse both their disciples and religion too, and change that way that Christ himself taught us to follow him by. It was not by blood or violence; by no single man's undertaking to disturb and to alter governments; to make hurlyburlies, and all the mischiefs that attend such things as these are.

For a church to persuade men even to the committing of the highest violences under a pretence of doing God good service, looks not (in my opinion) like religion, but design; like an engine, not a holy institution; artificial as a clock, which follows not the sun but the setter; goes not according to the bible, but the priest, whose interpretations serve their par ticular ends, and those private advantages which true religion, would scorn, and natural religion itself would not endure. I have, Mr. Coleman, said thus much to you as you are a christian, and as I am one, and I do it out of great charity and compassion, and with great sense and sorrow that you should be misled to these great offences under pretence of religion. But seeing you have but a little time, I would have you make use of it to your best advantage; for I tell you, that though death may be talked of at a distance in a brave heroic way, yet when a man once comes to the minute, death is a very serious thing; then you will consider how trifling all plots and contrivances are, and to how little purpose is all your concealments. I only offer these things to your thoughts, and perhaps they may better godown at such a time as this is than at another; and if they have no effect upon you, I hope they will have some as to my own particular, in that I have done my good will. I do remember you once more, that in this matter you be not deluded with any fantastic hopes and expectations of a pardon, for the truth is, Mr. Coleman, you will be deceived; therefore set your heart at rest, for we are at this time in such disorders, and the people so continually alarmed either with secret murders, or some outrages and violences that are this day on foot, that though the king, who is full of mercy almost

abroad. My men they writ them out of that book.

. L. C. J. What became of those letters? Coleman. I had no letters about this business, but what I have declared to the House of Commons, that is, letters froin St. Germans, which I owned to the House of Commons; and I had no methodical correspondence, and I never valued them nor regarded them, but as they came I destroyed them.

L. C. J. I remember the last letter that is given in evidence against you, discovers what mighty hopes there was, that the time was now come wherein that pestilent heresy, that hath domineered in this northern part of the world, should be extirpated; and that there never was greater hopes of it since our queen Mary's reign. Pray, Mr. Coleman, was that the concluding letter in this affair?

Coleman. Give me leave to say it upon the word of a dying man, I have not one letter, &c. L. C. J. What though you burnt your letters, you may recollect the contents.

Coleman. I had none since

L. C. J. Between God and your conscience be it, I have other apprehensions; and you deserve your Sentence upon you for your of fences, that visibly appear out of your own papers, that you do not, and cannot deny.

Coleman. I am satisfied. But seeing my time is but short, may I not be permitted to bave some immediate friends, and my poor wife to have her freedom to speak with me, and stay with me that little time that I have, that I might speak something to her in order to her living and my dying?

L. C. J. You say well, and it is a hard case to deny it; but I tell you what hardens, my heart, the insolencies of your party (the Roman Catholics I mean) that they every day offer, which is indeed a proof of their Plot, that they are so bold and impudent, and such secret murders committed by them, as would harden any man's heart to do the common favours of justice and charity, that to mankind are usually done they are so bold and insolent, that I think it is not to be endured in a Protestant kingdom; but for my own particular, I think it is a very hard thing for to deny a man the company of his wife, and his friends, so it be

done with caution and prudence. Remember that the Plot is on foot, and I do not know what arts the priests have, and what tricks they use; and therefore have a care that no papers, nor any such thing, be sent from him. Coleman. I do not design it, I am sure.

L. C. J. But for the company of his wife and his near friends; or any thing in that kind, that may be for his eternal good, and as much for his present satisfaction that he can receive now in the condition that he is in, let him have it; but do it with care and caution.

Capt. Richardson. What, for them to be private alone?

L. C.J. His wife, only she, God forbid else. Nor shall you he denied any Protestant minister. Coleman. But shall not my cousin Coleman have liberty to come to me?

L. C. J. Yes, with Mr. Richardson. Coleman. Or his servant; because it is a great trouble for him to attend always.

L. C. J. If it be his servant, or any he shall appoint, it is all one. Mr. Richardson, use him as reasonably as may be, considering the condition he is in.

Cler. Cr. Have a care of your prisoner.

On Tuesday the 3d of December following, Edward Coleman was drawn on a sledge from Newgate to Tyburn; and being come thither, he declared that he had been a Roman Catholic for many years, and that he thanked God he died in that religion, and he did not think that religion at all prejudicial to the king and government.

The Sheriff told him, if he had any thing to say by way of confession or contrition, he might proceed, otherwise it was not seasonable for him to go on with such like expressions. Being asked if he knew any thing of the murder of sir Edmund. Godfrey, he declared upon the words of a dying man, he knew not any thing of it, for that he was a prisoner at that time. Then after some private prayers and ejaculations to himself, the sentence was executed.

He had been made to believe, that he should have a pardon, which he depended on with so much assurance, that a little before he was turned off, finding himself deceived, he was heard to say, There is no faith in man.'