The murder took place on a Sunday afternoon. Earl Ferrers sent for Johnson, who was an old man, to come to his room, and meantime had despatched the servants of the household on various duties so that none should be within earshot. After some minutes of quiet conversation he produced a paper, and demanded of Johnson that he should sign it. The steward refused. Earl Ferrers walked to the door, which he locked, and going to a table took up a loaded pistol. He then ordered Johnson to kneel. The old man dropped on one knee. The earl insisted that he should fall on both knees. As soon as he had adopted this posture Earl Ferrers shot him through the body. He then loaded the pistol again, as if to fire a second shot, but suddenly turned from his purpose, and, unlocking the door, called a servant. When assistance arrived Earl Ferrers was quite calm and collected. He had lifted his victim, who had fallen on the floor mortally wounded, into a chair, and was doing his utmost to stay the flow of blood. The earl directed that a surgeon should be hastily summoned, and meantime himself remained tending the dying man. He seems, in fact, to have done everything that was possible. Johnson survived for nine hours, and told the story. Ferrers was brought up to London, “dressed as a jockey” driving in his own coach and six. Horace Walpole wrote: “Lord Ferrers is in the Tower; so you see the good-natured people of England will not want their favourite amusement, executions.” (See Illustration, page 1). “Their favourite amusement, executions,” means much from a man like Horace Walpole. He was no newspaper-sensation writer, yet he deliberately noted the fact that the favourite amusement of London was to assist at a public execution. Thank Heaven we are less depraved to-day. Lord Ferrers pleaded lunacy in his trial before the House of Lords, but was condemned, and then craved permission for his sentence to be carried out in the Tower. This was not granted; the only concession made being that he should be hanged by a silken rope. He dated his troubles from his marriage, and therefore dressed himself in his wedding clothes, “a white suit, richly embroidered in silver”—“as good an occasion,” he observed, “as that for which they were made.” He refused to go to Tyburn in the cart. Walpole’s description, written two days after the execution, reveals the hold these scenes had on London Society.