haved himself with much circumspection; but happening to forget
his pistols, he was seized, coming out of an inn in Drury Lane, and
though he made as much resistance as he was able, yet they forced him
unto a coach and conveyed him to Newgate. It is hard to say what
expectations he entertained after he was once apprehended, but it is
reasonable to believe that he had strong hopes of life, notwithstanding
his pleading guilty at his trial, for he dissembled until the time of
the coming down of a death warrant, and then declared he was a Roman
Catholic, and not a member of the Church of England, as he had hitherto
pretended.

He seemed to be a tolerably good-natured man, but excessively vicious at
the same time that he was extravagantly fond of the woman he called his
wife. He took no little pleasure in the relations of those adventures
which happened to him in his exploits on the highway, and expressed
himself with much seeming satisfaction, because as he said, he had never
been guilty of beating or using passengers ill, much less of wounding or
attempting to murder them. In general terms, he pretended to much
penitence, but whether it was that he could not get over the natural
vivacity of his own temper, or that the principles of the Church of
Rome, as is too common a case, proved a strong opiate in his conscience,
however it was, I say, Doyle did not seem to have any true contrition
for his great and manifold offences. On the contrary, he appeared with
some levity, even when on the very point of death.

He went to execution in a mourning coach; all the way he read with much
seeming attention in a little Popish manual, which had been given him by
one of his friends. At the tree he spoke a little to the people, told
them that his wife had been a very good wife to him, let her character
in other respects be what it would. Then he declared he had left behind
him memoirs of his life and conduct, to which he had nothing to add
there, and from which I have taken verbatim a great part of what I have
related. And then, having nothing more to offer to the world, he
submitted to death on the first of June, 1730, but in what year of his
age I cannot say.

However, before I make an end of what relates to Mr. Doyle, it would be
proper to acquaint the public that the vanity of his wife extended so
far as to make a pompous funeral for him at St. Sepulchre's church,
whereat she, as chief mourner assisted, and was led by a gentleman wh