Hogarth drew a picture of Tyburn Tree which no description can
amplify.

As the procession drew near the hangman clambered to the cross-piece
of the gallows and lolled there, pipe in mouth, until the first cart
drew up beneath him. Then he would reach down, or one of his
assistants would pass up, one after the other, the loose ends of the
halters which the condemned men had had placed round their necks
before leaving Newgate. When all were made fast Jack Ketch climbed
down and kicked his heels until the sheriff, or maybe the felons
themselves, gave him the sign to drive away the cart and leave its
occupants dangling in mid-air. The dead men's clothes were his
perquisite, and now was his time to claim them. There is a graphic
description of how, on one occasion, when the murderer "flung down
his handkerchief for the signal for the cart to move on, Jack Ketch,
instead of instantly whipping on the horse, jumped on the other side
of him to snatch up the handkerchief, lest he should lose his
rights. He then returned to the head of the cart and jehu'd him out
of the world".

As the cart drew away a few carrier pigeons, which were released
from the galleries, flew off City-ward to bear the tidings to
Newgate.

Perhaps as good a description of the actual event as can be obtained is
contained in a letter from Anthony Storer to his friend George Selwyn, a
morbid cynic whose cruel and tasteless bon-mots were hailed as wit by
Horace Walpole and his cronies. The execution was that of Dr. Dodd, the
"macaroni parson", whose unfortunate vanity led him to forgery and
Tyburn. The date--June 27, 1777--is considerably after the period of our