, Ji-; , 'awvHivai,, 7//tK',:'ni''i'.'ii!. ■■ s.'s-S'iS P^S»<7*fi* w'T "^ji»'tf»>;!«/,(!.!v?sS?: m QJnrnpll IGatu ^rlynnl Kibrarg Cornell University Library HV 6945.Z6L78 v.1-2 Lives of the most remarkable crmnals w 3 1924 024 870 887 M ^ Cornell University VB Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924024870887 JoLn Siieplierd's- Efcape ! out ofi/ui ( 2r/7H&mnHH(rl/: intTen/^aAg .\ L^ I V E S OF THE MOST REMARKABLE CRIMINALS WHO HAVE BEEN CONDEMNED AND EXECUTED For Murder, Highway Robberies, Housebreaking, Street Robberies, Coining, or other Offences ; From the Year 1720 to the Year 1735. COLLECTED FROM Original Papers and Authentic Memoirs. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. ILonUon: REEVES AND TURNER, 196, STRAND. 1874. PREFACE -■c^^'cJXti^O^^*^ lERHAPS there are few works which afford a larger fund of instruction and enter- tainment than those devoted to criminal annals ; and the present reprint of an old collection, embracing many extraordinary instances of crime, some of the actors in which are not yet forgotten — in support of which may be named the as- tounding career of Jonathan Wild, the thief-taker, and the exploits of Jack Sheppard, of Newgate renown — ■ cannot fail to prove interesting alike to the general reader, to the legal student, and to the historian. To the first, the numerous accounts of the doings of highwaymen, pirates, and other notorious criminals, accompanied with thrilling incidents, and described with a quaintness of expression and minuteness of detail which attest their truth, will yield a plentiful supply of entertainment ; nor will the light which is incidentally thrown upon the social and domestic habits, manners, and customs of the people prove without interest. On their value to the legal student, it is unnecessary to enlarge : it is suffi- cient to point to the ample and reliable means af- forded for a comparison of the state of crime and the criminal law at the period, and the modes and degrees ii PREFACE. of punishment, with that of the present day. Many curious details are also given throughout the work, ex- hibiting the state of prison discipline, which will prove not altogether without value. To the historian, these lives are extremely valuable by thfe accumulation of facts they furnish, from which he may draw his mate- rials with security, and thus be enabled to give a faithful picture of the state of society of the period. The appearance of the book, too, at the present time, may not prove unacceptable as affording a useful and reliable source of illustration spread over a long period in regard to the question of the results pro- duced by the infliction of the punishment of death. At the time these memoirs were compiled the death penalty seems to have been looked upon as the one efficacious means of punishment ; indeed, the work might well have been termed the " Deaths " instead of the " Lives " of Malefactors, so surely did these gentry converge to one point — the gallows, upon conviction of offences whether great or small, from stealing goods of the value of twelve pence and upwards to that of murder, which were all alike punishable, and punished with death. It may be further remarked that the book is as nearly as possible a faithful reproduction of the ori- ginal. No attempt has been made to alter the style rude and unpolished, to suit the exigencies of modern taste ; and if the book be found in parts coarse in detail, or inelegant and antiquated in form, it at any rate possesses the charm of reality. THE LIFE OF y if JANE GRIFFIN, Who was Executed for the Miirder of her Maid, January 29, 1719-20. I A S S I O N, when it once gains an Ascendant over our Minds, is often more fatal to us than the most deliberate course of Vice could be ; on every little Start, it throws us from the Paths of Reason, and hurries us in one Moment into Acts more Wicked, and more dan- gerous, than we could at any other time suffer to enter our Imaginations. As Anger is justly said to be a short Madness, so while the Frenzy is upon us, Blood is shed as easily as Water, and the Mind is so filled with Fury, that there is no room left for Compassion, There cannot be a stronger Proof of what I have, been observing, than in the unhappy End of the poor Woman, who is the Subject of this Chapter. ' JANE GRIFFIN, was the Daughter of honest and substantial Parents, who educated her 2 The Life o/Jank Griffin, with very great Tenderness and Care, particularly with respect to Religion, in which she was well and rationally Instructed. As she grew up, her Person grew agreeable, and having a lively Wit, and a very tolerable share of Understanding, she lived with very good Reputation, and to a general Satisfaction in several Places, till she married Mr. Griffin, who kept the Three Pidgeons in Smithfield. She behaved herself so well, and was so obliging in her House, that she drew to it a very great Trade ; in which she managed so as to leave every one well satisfied ; but yet allowing her Temper to fly out into sudden gusts of Passion, that folly alone sullied her Character, to those who were Witnesses of it, and at last caused a shameful End, to follow an honest and industrious Life. One Elizabeth Osborn, coming to live with her as a Servant, she proved of such a Disposition, as Mrs. Griffin could by no means agree with. They were continually differing, and having high Words, in which, as was usual on such occasions, Mrs. Griffin made use of wild Expressions, which tho' she might mean nothing by them, when she spoke them, yet proved of the utmost ill consequence, after the fatal Accident of the Maid's Death. For then being given in Evidence, they were esteemed Proofs of prepense Malice ; which ought to be a warning to all hasty People, to endeavour at some restraint upon their Tongues, when in fits of Anger, since we are not only sure of answering hereafter for every idle Word we speak, but they may, as in this case, be- come fatal in the last degree, even here. It was said at the time those Things were trans- acted, that Jealousy was in some degree the Source Executed for the Murder of her Maid. 3 of their Debates, but of that I can affirm nothing ; it no way appeared however, as to the Accident, which immediately drew on her Death, and which happened after this manner. One Evening having cut some cold Fowl for the Children's Supper, it happened the Key of the Cellar was missing on a sudden ; they began to look for it, on Mrs. Griffins first Speaking of it, but it not being found presently, Mrs. Griffin went into the Room where the Maid was, and using some harsh expres- sions, taxed her with having seen it, or laid it out of the Way. The Maid, instead of excusing herself modestly, flew out also into ill Language at her Mistress; and in the midst of the Fray, the Knife with which she had been cutting, lying unluckily by her, she snatched it up, and struck it into the Maid's Bosom, when her stays happening to be open, entered so deep, as to give her a mortal Wound. Mrs. Griffin, after she had struck her, went up Stairs not imagining that she had killed her, but the Alarm soon was raised on her falling down ; and Mrs. Griffin carried before a Magistrate, and com- mitted to Newgate. When she was first Confined, she seemed hopeful of getting off at her Trial, yet tho' she did not make any Confession, she was very ' sorrowful and concerned. As her Trial drew nearer, her apprehensions grew stronger ; till notwithstanding all she could urge in her Defence, the Jury found her Guilty, and the Sentence was pronounced as the Law directs. Hitherto she had hopes of Life, and tho' she did not totally relinquish them even upon her Conviction, yet she prepared with all due care for her departure. She sent for the Minister of her own Parish, who 4 The Life 114 The Life of Thomas Btitlock, otherwise Butloge, which last was his true Name, was born in the Kingdom oi Ireland, about Thirty Miles East of Dublin, whither his Parents had gone from Cheshire, which was their Native Country, with a Gentleman on whom they had a great Dependence, and who was settled in Ireland. Though their Circumstances were but indifferent, yet they found means to raise as much as to put their Son Apprentice to a. Vintner in Dublin, and probably had he ever set up in that Business they would have done more ; but he had not been long, 'ere what little Education he had was lost, and his Morals corrupted by the sight of such lewd Scenes as passed often at his Master's House. However the Man was very kind to him, and Thomas in Return had so great Esteem and Affection for his Master, that when he broke and came over to hide himself at Chester, Btitloge frequently stole over to him with small Supplies of Money, and acquainted him with the Condition of his Family which he had left behind. In this precarious Manner of Life, he spent some Time, until finding it impossible for him to submit any longer by following his Master's broken Fortunes, he began to lay out for some new Employ- ment to get his Bread ; but after various Projects had proved unsuccessful when they came to be Executed, he was forced to return into Ireland again, where not long after he had the good Fortune to marry a substantial Man's Daughter, which retrieved his Circumstances once more. But Butloge had always, as he expressed it, an aspiring Temper, which put him upon crossing the Seas again upon the Invitation of a Gentleman who he pretended was a Relation and belonged to the Thomas Butlock, a Thief. 115 Law, by whose Interest he was in hopes of getting into a Place ; accordingly, when he came to London, he took Lodgings, and lived as if he had been already in Possession of his Expectation, which bringing his Pocket low, he accepted the Service of Mr. Claude Langley, a Foreign Gentleman, who had lodged in the same House. It cannot be exactly determined how long he had been in his Service before he committed the Fact for which he died ; but as to the Manner it happened thus : Mr. Langley, as well as all the rest of the Family, being out at Church, Butloge was sitting by himself in his Master s Room, looking at the Drawers, and knowing that there was a good sum of Money therein, it came into his Head, what a Figure he might Cut if he had all that Money ; it occurred to him. at the same Time, that his Master was scarce able to Speak any English, and was obliged to go over to France again in a MontKs Time, so that he persuaded himself if he cotcld keep out of the Way for that Month, all would be well, and he should be able to live upon the Spoil without any Apprehension of Danger. These Considerations took up his Mind for about half an Hour, and then he put his Scheme into Execution, broke open the Drawers, and took from thence Twenty- Seven Guineas, Four Louis DOrs, and some other French Pieces. As soon as he completed the Robbery, and was got safe out (>f Town, he went directly to Chester, that he might appear fine {as he himself saiu) at a Place where he was known. His Precaution being so little, there is no Wonder that he was taken, or that the Fact appearing Plain, he should be Convicted thereo7i. ntua If 1 1 6 T/te Life of After Sentence was passed, he laid aside all hopes of Life, and without flattering himself, as too many do, he prepared for his approaching End. Whatever follies he might have committed in, his Life, yet he Suffered very composedly on the 22nd Day of fuly, 1722, being then about 23 years of Age. The Life ^,TyJya^(^mxm^glJ?^l^^^ The Life of Luke Nunney, a Murderer. [RUNKENNESS, though a shocking and beastly Crime, yet in its Consequences it is also often so bloody and inhuman, that one would wonder that Persons of any Understanding should indulge themselves in a Sin at once so odious and so fatal both to Soul and Body ; the Instances of Persons who have committed Murders when drunk, and those accompanied with Circumstances of such Barbarity as even those Persons themselves could not have heard without trembling, and so many are so well known to all, that I need not dwell longer than the bare Narration of this Malefactor's Misfortunes will detain me, to warn them against a Vice which makes them always Monsters and often Murderers. Luke Nimney, of whom we are to speak, was a young Fellow of some Parts, and of a tolerable Education, his Father at the time of his Death, being a Shoe-maker in tolerable Circumstances, and very careful in the bringing up of his Children. He was more particularly zealous in affording them due notions of Religion, and took abundance of Pains himself to inculcate them in their tender Years, which at first had so good an Effect upon this Liike, that his whole Thoughts ran upon finding out that Method of Worship in which he was most likely to please God. Sometimes (though his Parents were of the Church of England) he slipped to a Presbyterian Meeting-house, where he' was so Luke Nunney, a Murderer. 171 much affected with the Preacher's Vehemence in Prayer, and his plain and pious Method of Preach- ing, that he often regretted his not being bred up in that Way, and the Loss his Parents sustained by their not having a rehsh for ReHgion ungraced with exterior Ornaments. These were his Thoughts, and his Practice was suitable to them, until the Misfor- tunes of his Father obliged him to break up House, and put Ltike out to work at another Place. The Men where Nunney went to Work, were lewd and profligate Fellows, and always talking Idly or Lewdly, relating Stories of what had passed in the Country, before they came up to Work in London, the Intrigues they had had with vicious Women, and such loose and unprofitable Discourses. This quickly destroyed the former good Inclinations of Luke, who first began to waver in Religion ; and as he had quitted the Church of England, to turn to the Dissenters, so now he had some Thoughts of leaving them for the Quakers, but after going often to their Meetings, he professed he thought their Behaviour so ridiculous and absurd as not to deserve the Name either oS. Religion or Divine Worship. His instability of Mind pressed him also to go out into the World, for it appeared to him a great Evil, that while all the Rest of his Companions were continually discoursing of their Adventures, he should have none to mention of his own ; some of them also slightingly called him Cockney, and reproaching him with having never been above seven Miles from London. Remembering that his Father had some near Relations in the West of England, he took a sudden Resolution of going down thither to work at his Trade. Full of these Notions, he went over one Evening pretty late with 172 The Life of his Brother to Southivark : meeting there with an old Acquaintance, who would needs make him drink, they stayed pretty long at the House, inasmuch that L^(.ke got very drunk, and being always quarrelsome when he had Liquor, insulted and abused everybody in the Room. As he was quarrelling particularly with one James Young, William Bramston, who stood by, came up and desired him to be quiet, advised him to go Home with his Company, and not stay and make a Disturbance where nobody had a mind to quarrel but himself. Luke without making any reply, struck him a Blow on the Face. Bramston thereupon held up his Fist as if he would have struck him, but did not ; however, Nimney struck him again and pushed him forwards, upon which Bramston reeled, cried out he was stabbed and a dead Man, that Ntmney was the Person who gave him the Wound, and Ltike thereupon, drunk as he was, attempted to run away. Upon this he was appre- hended, committed Prisoner to Newgate, and the next Sessions on the Evidence of such of his Com- panions as were present, he was convicted and received Sentence of Death. He behaved himself from that time as a Person who had as little Desire as Hopes of continuing in the World, enquired diligently both of the Ordinary and of the Man who was under Sentence with him, how he should prepare himself for his latter End, coming constantly to Chapel, and praying regularly at all times. Yet at the Place of Execution he declared himself a Papist, and added, that at the time the Murder was committed he had no Knife, nor could he imagine how it was done, being so drunk that he knew nothing what had happened in the Morning, when he found himself in Luke Nunney, a Mtirderer. 173 Custody. He was about Twenty Years of Age at the time of his Suffering on the 25th of May, 1723. The Life of Richard Trantham, a Housebreaker. j HOUGH Vices and Extravagancies are the common Causes which induce Men to fall into those illegal Practices which lead to a shameful Death, yet now and then it happens, we find Men of outward Gravity and serious Deportment, as wicked as those whose open Licentiousness render their committing Crimes of this Sort the less amazing. Of the number of these was Richard Trantham, a married Man, having a Wife and Child living at the Time of his Death, keeping also a tolerable House at Mitcham in Surrey. He had been apprehended on the Sale of some stolen Silk, and at the next Sessions following was convicted of having broken the House of fohn Follwell in the Night time two Years before, and taking thence a Silver Tankard, a Silver Salver, and fifty-four pounds of Bolonia Silk, valued at ^74 and upwards. During the time which passed between the Sentence and Execution, he behaved in a Manner the most penitent and devout, not only making use of a considerable Number of Books, which the Charity of his Friends had furnished him with, but also reading to all those who were in the Condemned Hole with them. The Morning he was to die, after having received the Sacrament, he was exhorted to make a Confession of those Crimes which he had committed, particularly 174 The Life of as to Housebreaking, in which he was thought to have been long concerned ; thereupon, he recollected him- self a little, and repeated six or seven Houses which he had broke open, particularly General Groves s, near St. y antes' s ; a Stone-Cutter in Chiswell-street ; and Mr. FollwelVs, in Spittle Fields, for which he died. At the Place of Execution, whither he was conveyed in a Mourning Coach, he appeared perfectly composed and submissive to that Sentence which his own Misdeeds, and the Justice of the Law had brought upon him. Before the Halter was put about his Neck, he spoke to those who were assembled at the Gallows to see his Death, in the following Terms. Good People, Those wicked and unlawful Methods, by which for a considerable Time I have supported myself, have justly drawn upon me the Anger of God, and the Sentence of the Law. As I have injured many, and the Substance I have is very sm,all, I fear a Restitution would be hard to make, even if it should be divided. I therefore leave it all to m,y Wife for the Maintenance of her and my Child. I entreat you neither to reflect on her, nor on my Parents, and pray the Blessing of Godtipon you all. He was thirty Years old when he died, and was executed the same Day with the Malefactor before mentioned. John Tyrrell, a Horsestealer. 175 The Lives of John Tyrrell, a Horsestealer, and William- Hawksworth, a Mtirderer. \OHN TYRRELL, the first of these Male- factors, was convicted for steahng two Horses in Yorkshire; but selling them in Smithfield, was tried at the Old-Bailey. It seems he had been an old Horse-stealer, as most People conjectured, though he himself denied it ; and as he pretended at his Trial to have bought those two for which he died, at Northampton Fair, so he continually endeavoured to infuse the same Notions into all Persons who spoke to him at the time of his Death. He had practised carrying over Horses into Flanders and Germany, and there selling them to Persons of the highest Rank, with whom he dealt always so justly and honourably, that it was said, his Word would have gone there for any Sum. whatsoever, that was to be laid out in Horse-flesh. He had been hr^di^di Dissenter,^ and above all things affected the Character of a religious and sober Man, which, excepting the Instances for which he died, he never seemed to have forfeited, for whatever else was said against him, after he was condemned, arose merely from Conjectures, occasioned by the Number of Horses he had sold in foreign Parts. He pro- fessed himself that he had always led a most regular and devout Life, and in the frequent Voyages he made by Sea, exhorted the Sailors to leave that dis- solute manner of Life which too generally they led ; 176 The Life of and during the whole time he lay under Sentence, he talked of nothing else but his own great Piety and Devotion, which though as he confessed had often been rewarded by many singular Deliverances through the Hand of Providence ; yet since he was suffered to die this ignominious Death, and ther'eby disgrace his Family, and altogether overturn that Reputation of Sanctity which with so much pains he had been setting ujD, he inclined to atheistic Notions, and a wavering Belief as ta the being of a God at all. For the other Malefactor, William Hawkesworth, he was a Yorkshire Man by Birth, his Parents reputable People, who took a great deal of Care in his Reputation, and intended to breed him to some good Trade ; but a Regiment of Soldiers happening to come into the Town, Hawkesworth imagining great things might be attained to in the Army would needs go with them, and accordingly enlisted himself; but having run through many Difficulties and much Hardships, finding also that he was like to meet with little else while he wore a Red coat, he took a great deal of Pains, and made much Interest to be dis- charged. At last he effected it, and a Gentleman kindly taking him to live with him as a Footman, he there recovered part of that Education which while in the Army he had lost. There also he addicted himself for some time to a sober and quiet Life ; but soon after giving way to his old roving Disposition, he went away from his Master, and enlisted himself again in the Army in one of the Regiments of Guards. His Behaviour the last Time of his being in the Service, was honest and Regular, his Officers giving him a very good Character. But happening to be John Tyrrell, a Horsestealer. 177 one Day commanded on a Party to mount the Savoy Guard, at the Admiralty Office by Charing Cross, they met a Man and a Woman. The Man's Name was yohn Ransom, and Hawksworth stepping up to the Woman and going to kiss her, Ransom interposed and pushed him off; upon which Hawksworth knocked him down with the butt End of his Piece, by which Blow about Nine o'Clock that Evening he died. The Prisoner insisted continually, that as he had no Design to kill the Man it was not wilful Murder. He and Tyrrell died with less Confusion and seeming Concern than most Malefactors do, Tyrrell was about thirty, and Hawksworth in the twenty-eighth year of his Age, on the 1 7th of June, 1723. The Life of William Duce, a notorious Highway- man and Foot-pad. |OWEVER hardened some men may appear during the Time they are acting their Crimes, and perhaps when they are first led to an Account for them, while Hopes of safety or Life remains ; yet when these are totally lost, and Death attended with Ignominy and Reproach stares them in the Face, they seldom fail to lay aside their Obstinacy, or if they do not, it is through a stupid want of Consideration, either of themselves or of their Condition. William Duce, of whom we are now to speak, was one of the most cruel and aban- doned Wretches that ever went on the Road ; he was born at Wolverhampton, but of what Parents or N 178 The Life of in what manner he Hved until his coming up to London, I am not able to say. He had not been long here, before he got in Debt with one A Horn, who arrested him and threw him into Newgate, where he remained a Prisoner upwards of 15 Months ; here it was that he learnt those Principles of Villany which he afterwards put in Practice. His Companions were Dyer, Butler, Rice, and some others whom I shall have Occasion to mention. The first oi December 1722, he and one of his Associates crossing Chelsea- Fields, overtook a Gentleman well dressed, a tall strong-limbed Man, who having a Sword by his Side and a good Cane in his Hand, they were at first in some doubt whether they should attack him ; at last one went on one Side and one on the other, and clapping at once fast hold of each Arm, thereby totally disabled him from making any Resistance. They took from him four Guineas, and tying his Wrists and Ancles together, left him bound behind the Hedge. Not long after Duce with two others, contrived to rob in St. f antes s Park. Accordingly they seized a Woman, who was walking on the Grass near the Wall towards Petty-France, and after they had robbed her, got over the Wall and made their Escape. About this Time his first Acquaintance began with Dyer, who was the great Occasion of this poor Fellow's Ruin, whom he con- tinually plagued to go out Robbing, and sometimes threatened him if he. did not. In Tottenham Court- Road, they two attacked a Gentleman, who, being intoxicated with Wine, either fell from his Horse or was thrown off by them, and from whom they took a Gold Watch only. Then Butler and Dyer being in his Company, they robbed Mr. Holmes of Chelsea, John Tyrrell, a Highwayman. 179 of a Guinea and Twopence, the Fact for which he and Butler died. Thinking the Town dangerous after all these Robberies, and finding the Country too hot to hold them, they went into Hampshire and there committed not only several Robberies, but also attended with such Cruelties as have not for many Years been heard of in England ; and though these Actions made a great Noise, yet it was some Weeks before any of them were apprehended. It happened on the Portsmouth Road, they fell upon one Mr. Bunch, near a Wood Side, where they robbed and stripped him naked. Yet not thinking themselves secure, Duce turned and fired at his Head ; he took his Aim so true, that the Bullet entered the Man's Cheek, upon which he fell with Agony, of Pain, holding his Head downwards that the Bullet might drop out of his Mouth. Butler seeing that, turned back and began to charge his Pistol ; the Man fell down on his Knees and humbly besought his Life. Perceiving the Villain was implacable, he took the Advantage before the Pistol was charged to take to his Heels, and being better acquainted with the Way than they, escaped to a neighbouring Village, which he raised, and soon after the whole Country, upon which they were apprehended, and Mead, Wade, and Darking were condemned at Winchester Assizes ; but this Malefactor and Butler were removed by an habeas corpus to Newgate. Duce, while under Sen- tence of Death, laid aside all that Barbarity and Stubbornness with which he had formerly behaved, confessed all the Villanies he had been guilty of with great Frankness ; and at the Place of Execution delivered the following Letter, for the Evidence Z?y^r, who as he said, had often cheated them of their Shares i8o The Life of of the Money they took from Passengers, had now sworn away their Lives. The Letter from William Duce to John Dyer. // is unnecessary for me to remember you of the many wicked and barbarous Actions, which in your Company, and mostly by your Advice, have been practised upon innocent Persons. Before you receive this, I shall have suffered all that the Law of Man can inflict for my Offences ; you will do well to reflect thereon, and make Use of that Mercy which you have purchased at the Expense of our Blood, to procure by a sincere Repentance the Pardon also of God, without which the lengthening of your Days will be but a Misfortune, and however late, your Crimes if you pursue them, will certainly bring you after us to this io-nominious Place. You ought especially to think of the Death of poor Rice, who fell in the midst of his Sins, without having so much time to say, Lord have Mercy upon me. God who has been so gracious as to perm.it it to you, will expect a severe Account of it ; and even this Warning if neglected, shall be remembered against you. Do not however think that I die in any Wrath or Anger with you, for what you swore at m,y Trial. I own m.yself guilty of that for which T stiff er, and I as heartily and freely forgive you, as I hope Forgiveness for myself, from, that infinitely merciftd Being, to zvhose Goodness and Providence I recommend you. William Duce. He also wrote another Letter to one Mr. R. W. who had been guilty of some Offences of the like John Tyrrell, a Highwayman. i8i Nature in his Company, but who for some time had retired and lived honestly and privately, as he said, and was fio longer addicted to stick Courses, nor as he hoped would relapse into them again. He was at the time of his Execution about 25 Years of Age, and suffered at Tyburn, on the 5th oi August, 1723. The Life of James Butler, a 7iotorious Highway- man, Foot-pad, &c. \AMES BUTLER was the Son of a very honest Man in the Parish of St. Anns, Soho, who gave him what Education it was in his Power to bestow, and strained his Circum- stances to the utmost to put him Apprentice to a Silversmith, with whom James hardly had lived six Months, when his roving Inclination pushed him upon running away and going to Sea, which he did with one Captain Dowglass in a Man of War. Here he was better used than most young People are at first setting out in a Sailor's Life. The Captain being a Person of great Humanity and Consideration, he treated James with much Tenderness, taking him to wait on himself, and never omitting any Oppor- tunity either to encourage or Reward him. But Butler could not even then avoid doing some little thieving Tricks, which very much grieved and pro- voked his kind Benefactor, who tried by all means fair and foul, to make him leave them off One Day particularly, when he had been caught opening one of the Men's Chests, and a Complaint thereupon being made to the Captain, he was called into the i82 The Life of great Cabin, and everybody being withdrawn except Mr. Dowglass himself, the Captain, calling him to him, spoke in these Terms. Butler, / have always treated y oil with more Kind- ness and Indulgence than perhaps anybody in your Station has been used to on board any Ship. You do therefore very wrong by playing sitch Tricks as make the Men uneasy, and to pid it out of my Power to do you any Good. We are now going home, where I must discharge you, for as I had never any Difference with the Crew since I commanded the Arundel, / am determined not to let you becom,ethe Occasion of it now. There is two Guineas for yoit,, I will take care to have you sent safe to yotir Mother. The Captain performed all his Promises, but Butler continued still in the same Disposition, and though he made several Voyages in other Ships, yet continued still light fin- gered, and making many Quarrels and Disturbances on board, until at last he could find nobody who knew him that would hire him. The last Ship he served in was the Mary, Capt. Vernon Commander ; from which Ship he was discharged and paid off at Portsmouth, in Attgust, 1721. Having got after this into the Gang, with Dyer, Duce, Rice, and others, they robbed almost always on the King's Road, between Buckingham-House and Chelsea. On the 27th oi April, 1723, after having plundered two or three Persons on the aforesaid Road, they observed a Coach coming towards them, and a Footman on Horseback riding behindlt. Z>)/^r deter- mined with himself as soon as they came in sight to attack them, and forced his Companions into the same Measures, by calling out to the Coachman to Stop, and presenting his Pistol ; the Fellow persisted a James Butler, a Highwayman, &c. 183 little, and Dyer was cocking his Pistol to discharge it at him, when the Ladies' Footman from behind the Coach; fired amongst them, and killed Joseph Rice, on the spot. This Accident made such an Impres- sion upon Butler, that though he continued to rob with them a Day or two afterwards, yet as soon as he had an Opportunity he withdrew, and went to hard Labour with one Cladins, a very honest Man, at a Village called Wandsworth in Surrey. He had riot wrought there long, before some of his Gang had been discovered ; his Wife was seized and sent to Bridewell, in order to make her Discover where her Husband was, who had been impeached with the rest. This obliged him to leave his Place, and betake himself again to robbing. When going with his Companions, Wade, Meads, Garns, and Spigget, they went into the Gravesend Road, and there attacking four Gentlemen, Meads thought it would contribute to their safety to disable the Servant who rode behind, upon which he fired at him directly, and shot him through the Breast. Not long after they set upon another Man, whom Meads wounded in the same Place, and then setting him on his Horse, bid him ride to Gravesend ; but the Man turning the Beast's Head the other way, Meads went back again, and shot him in the Face, of which wound he died. When Butler lay under Sentence of Death, he rea- dily confessed whatever Crimes he had committed, but he as well as the before mentioned Criminal charged much of his Guilt upon the persuasions of the Evidence Dyer ; he particularly owned the Fact of Shooting the Man at Farnhani. He had always professed himself a Papist, and died in that Reli- gion at the same Time with the aforementioned Criminal at Tydurn. 1 84 The Life of The Life of Captain JohnMassey, who died for Piracy. HE Gentleman of whom we are now to speak, though he suffered for Piracy, was a Man of another turn of Mind than any of whom we have hitherto had occasion to mention. Captain jfohn Massey was of a Family I need not dwell on, since he hath at present two Brothers living who make a considerable Figure in their Respective Professions. This unhappy Person had a natural Vivacity in his Temper, which some- times rose to such a Height that his Relations took it for a Degree of Madness ; they therefore hoping by a compliance with his Humours, to bring him to a better Sense of Things, they sent him into the Army, then in Flanders, under the Command of the Duke of Marlborough, and there he assisted at the several Sieges, which were undertaken by the con- federate Army after his Arrival, viz. Mons, Doway, Bouchain, and several others ; yet though he was bold there even to Temerity, he never received so much as one Wound through the whole Course of the War, in which after the Siege of Lisle, he commanded as a Lieutenant, and that with great Reputation. On his return into England, he at first wholly addicted himself to a religious sober Life ; the several Accidents of the War having disposed him to a more serious Temper, by making him plainly perceive the Hand of Providence in protecting and destroying Captain John Massey, a Pirate. 185 according as its Wisdom seeth fit. But after a short stay in London, he unhappily fell into the Acquaint- ance of a lewd Woman, who so besotted him, that he really intended to marry her, if the Regiment's going to Ireland had not prevented it, though there the Case was not much mended, since Capt. Massey gave Way too much to the Debaucheries generally prac- tised in that Nation. On his coming back from thence, he was by the Recommendation of the Duke of Chandois, made by the Royal African Company a Lieutenant-Colonel in their Service, and an Engineer for erecting a Fort on the Coast of Africa. He promised himself great Advantages and a very honourable Support from this Employment ; but he and his Soldiers under his Command, being very ill used by the Person who commanded the Ship in which he went over, being denied their Proportion of Provisions, and in all other respects treated with much Indignity, it made a great impression on Capt. Massey s Mind, who could not bear to see Numbers of those poor Creatures perish, not only without temporal Necessaries, but wanting also the Assistance of a Divine in their last Moments, the Chaplain of the Ship remaining behind in the Madeiras, on a Foresight perhaps of the Miseries he should have suffered in the Voyage, In this miserable Condition things were when the Captain and his Soldiers came into the River Gambia, where the designed Fort was to be built. Here the Water was so bad that the poor Wretches, already in the most dreadful Condition, were many of them deprived of Life in a few Days after they were on Shore. The Captain was excessively troubled at the Sight of their Misfortunes, and too easily in hopes of 1 86 The Life of relieving them gave way to the Persuasions of a Captain of a lighter Vessel than his own, who arrived in that Port, and persuaded him to turn Pirate rather than let his Men starve. After repeated Solicita- tions, Capt. Massey and his Men went on board his Ship, and having there tolerable good Provisions, soon picked up their Strength, and took some very considerable Prizes ; at the plundering of which, poor Massey was confused and amazed, not knowing well what to do ; for though he was glad to see his Men have Meat, yet it gave him great trouble when he reflected on the Methods by which they acquired it. In this disconsolate State, his Nights were often as troublesome to him as his Days ; for (as he himself said) he seldom shut his Eyes, but he dreamt that he was sailing in a Ship to the Gallows, with several others round him. After a considerable Space, the Ship putting into the Island of famaica for neces- sary supply of Water and Provision, he made his escape to the Governor, and gave him such Informa- tion, as he took several private Vessels thereby ; but not being easy there, he desired leave of Sir Nicholas Laws to return home. Sir Nicholas gave him Letters of Recommendation, but notwithstanding those he no sooner returned into England, but he was apprehended and committed for Piracy ; soon after which he was bailed, but the Persons who became Security growing uneasy, he surrendered in their Discharge ; soon after which he was tried, con- victed, and condemned. During the Space he remained in Prison after Condemnation, he behaved with so much Gravity, Piety and Composedness, as surprised all who saw him, many of whom inclined to think his Case hard. H-owever, no Mercy was to Captain John Massey, a Pirate. 187 be had, and as he did not expect it, so false hopes never troubled his Repose ; but as Death was to cut him off from the World, so he beforehand retired all his Affections from thence, and thought of nothing but that state whither he was going. In his Passage to Execution he pointed to the African-House, said, they have used me severely, but I pray God prosper and bless them in all their Undertakings. Mr. Nichol- son, of St. Sepulchre's attended him in his last Moments. J ust before he died he read the following Speech to the People. Captain Massey' s Speech. Good People, / beg of you. to pray for my departing Soul ; I like- wise pray God to forgive all the Evidences that swore against m,e, as I do them from, m,y Heart. I challenge all the World to say, I ever did a dishonotirable Act, or anything unlike a Gentleman, btU what m,ight be common to all yottng Fellows in this Age, and what the World can say of this, was surely a rash Action, but not designedly to titrn Pirate. I am, sorry for it, and I wish it was in my Power to make Amends to the honourable African Company for what they have lost by my Means. I likewise declare tipon the Word of a dying Man, that I never once thought of m.olesting his Grace the Duke of Chandois, although it has been maliciously reported that I always went with two loaded Pistols to dispatch his Grace. As for the Duke, I was always while living devoted to his Service, for his good Offices done tcnto me : and I humbly beg Almighty God, that he would be pleased to potir down his Blessings upon his good Family. Good People, 1 88 The Life of once more I beg of yoic to pray for my departing Soul. I desire my dying Words to be printed ; as for the Truth and Sincerity of it, I sign them as a Man departing this World. John Massey, After he had pronounced these Words, he signified it as his last Request, that neither his Wife nor any of his Relations might see his Body after in the Coffin : then praying a few Moments to himself he submitted to his Fate, being at the time of his Death 28 Years old. He suffered at High Water Mark, at Execution Dock, on the 26th of ftdy.^ 1 723, his unhappy Death being universally pitied. The Life of Philip Roche, a Pirate, &c. |]S in the former Life of Captain Massey, my Readers cannot but take Notice of those great Evils into which Men are brought by over Forwardness and Ihconsideration, so in the Life of this Malefactor we are now to speak of, they will discern what a prodigious Pitch of Wickedness, Rapine, and Cruelty, human Nature is capable of reaching when Persons abandon themselves to a Desire of living after their own wicked Inclina- tion, without considering the Injuries they do others while they gratify their own Lusts and sensual Pleasures. , Philip Roche was the Son of a- Person of the same Name in Ireland. His Father gave him all the Education his narrow Circumstances, would permit, Philip Roche, a Pirate. 189 which extended however to Reading and Writing, after which he sent him to Sea. Philip was a Lad of ingenious Parts, and instead of forgetting, as many- do, all they have learned on board, he, on the Contrary, took all imaginable Care to perfect himself in whatsoever he had but a slight Notion of before he went to Sea. He made Abundance of coasting Voyages about his native Island, went once or twice to Barbadoes, and being a saving industrious young Fellow, picked up Money enough to become first Mate in a trading Vessel to Nantz in France ; by which being suffered to buy Goods himself, he got considerably, and was in a fair way of attaining as great a Fortune as he could reasonably expect ; but this slow Method of getting Money did by no means satisfy Roche ; he was resolved to grow rich at once, and not wait till niuch Labour and many Voyages had made him so. When Men once form to thernselves such Designs it is not long before they find Companions fit for their purpose. Roche soon met with one Neal, a Fisherman, of no Education, barbarous but very daring, a Fellow who had all the Qualities that conspire to make a dangerous Villain, and who had already inured himself by a Multitude of Facts to the Commission of whatever was black or bloody ; not only without remorse, but without Reluctance. Neal recommended him to one Pierce Cullen as a proper Associate in those Designs they were con- triving ; for this Cullen, as Neal informed him was a Fellow of Principles and Qualifications, much like himself, but had somewhat a better Capacity in executing them, and with Neal had been concerned in sinking a Ship, after insuring her both at London I go The Life of and Amsterdam, but Providence disappointed them in the Success of their wicked Design ; for Cullen having been known, or at least suspected of doing such a thing before, those with whom they had insured at London, Instead of their paying the Money, caused him to be seized and brought to a Trial, which demolished all their Schemes for cheating Insurance Offices. Cullen brought in his Brother to their Confederacy, and after abundance of Solicitation induced Wise to come in likewise. The Project they had formed was to seize some light Ship, and turn Pirates in her, conceiving it no difficult Matter afterwards to obtain a stronger Vessel, and one better fitted for their purpose. The Ship they pitched on to, to execute this their villainous Purpose, was that of Peter Tartoe, a Frenchman, of a very generous Disposition, who on Roche and his Com- panions telling him a melancholy Story, readily entertained them ; and perceiving Roche was an experienced Sailor, entrusted him upon any Occasion with the Care and Command of the Ship. Having done so one Night, himself and the chief Mate, with the rest of the French who were on board, except a Man and a Boy, went to rest. Roche com- manded these to go up and furl the Sails ; he then called the rest of his Lrish Associates to him upon Quarter-Deck ; there Roche perceiving that Francis Wise began to relent, and fearing he should persuade others in the same Measures, he told them that if every Irishman on board did not assist in destroying the French, and put him and Ctillen in a Capacity of retrieving the Losses they had had at Sea, they would treat whoever hesitated in obeying them with as little Mercy as they did the Frenchmen, but if they Philip Roche, a Pirate. 191 would all assist, they should all fare alike, and have a Share in the Booty. Upon this the Action began, and two of them running up after the Frenchman and Boy, one tossed the Lad by the Arm into the Water, and the other driving, the Man down upon Deck, he there had his Brains dashed out by Roche and his Companions. They fell next upon those who were retired to their Rest, and some of them upon the Shrieks of the Man and Boy who were murdered, rising out of their Beds, and running up upon Deck to see what occasioned those dismal Noises, were murdered themselves before they well knew where they were. The Mate and the Captain were next brought up, and Roche went immediately to binding them together, in order to toss them over board, as he had been consulted upon. It was in vain for poor Tartoe to plead the Kind- nesses he had done them all, and particularly Roche ; they were deaf to all Sentiments, either of Gratitude or Piety ; and though the poor Men entreated only so much Time as to say their Prayers and recom- mend themselves to God,, yet the Villains, though they could be under no Apprehensions, having already murdered all the Rest of the Men out of the Way, would not even yield to this ; but Ctdlen hastened Roche in binding them. Back to Back, to toss them at once into the Sea, then hurrying down into the Cabin, they tapped a Barrel of Rum to make themselves good Cheer, and laughed at the Cries of the two poor drowned Men, whom they distinctly heard calling upon God, until their Voices and their Breaths were lost in the Waves. After having drank and eat with as much Mirth and Jollity, as if they had been at a Feast, they began to plunder the 192 The Life of Vessel, breaking open the Chests, and taking out of them what they thought proper. Then to drinking they went again, pleasing themselves with the bar- barous Expedition which they resolved to undertake as soon as they could get a Ship proper to carry them into the West Indies, intending there to follow the Examples the Buccaneers had set them, and rob and plunder all who fell into their Hands. From these Villanies in Intention, the present State of their Affairs called upon them to make some provision for their immediate Safety ; they returned therefore into the Channel, and putting the Ship into Ports- THouth, got her there new painted and then sailed for Amsterdam; Roche being unanimously recognised their Captain, and all of them promising faithfully to submit to him through the Course of their future Expeditions. On their arrival in Holland, they had the Ship a second time new painted, and thinking themselves now safe from all Discovery, began to sell off Captain Tartoes Cargo as fast as they could ; no sooner had they completed this, but getting one Mr. Annesly to freight them with Goods to England (himself also going a Passenger) they resolved with themselves to make a Prize of him and his Effects, as they had also done of the French Captain's. Mr. Annesly, poor Man, little dreaming of their Design came on board as soon as the Wind served, and the next Night a brisk Gale blowing they tore him suddenly out of his Bed and tossed him over. Roche and Ctdlen being with others in the great Cabin. He swam round and round the Ship, called out to them, and told them they should freely have all his Goods, if they would take him in and save his Life, for he Philip Roche, a Pirate. 193 had Friends and Fortune enough in England to make up that Loss ; but his Intreaties were all in vain to a Set of Wretches who had long ago aban- doned all Sentiments of Humanity and Mercy ; they therefore caroused as usual, and after sharing the Booty, steered the Vessel for England. Some In- formation of their Villanies had by that time reached thither ; so that upon a Letter being stopped at the Post-Ofifice, which Roche as soon as they had landed wrote to his Wife, a Messenger was immediately sent down, who brought Philip up in Custody, who being brought to the Council-Table, and there ex- amined, absolutely denied either that himself was Philip Roche, or that he knew any one of that Name ; but his Letters under his own Hand to his Wife being produced, he was not able any longer to stand in that Falsehood. Yet those in Authority, knowing that there was legal Proof sufficient to bring these abominable Men to Justice, offered Roche his Life, provided he gave such Information where they might be able to apprehend and convict any three of his Companions more wicked than himself ; but he was so far from complying therewith, that he suffered those of his Crew who were taken to perish in Custody rather than become an Evidence against them. This was the Fate of Neal, who perished for want in the Marshalsea, having in vain petitioned for a Trunk in which was a large Quantity of ready Money, Clothes and other Things to a considerable Value, which had been seized in Ireland, by Virtue of a Warrant from the Lords Justices of that Kingdom ; on account of the Detention of which, while he pe- rished for want of Necessaries and Clothes Neal most heavily complained, forgetting that these very things o 194 -^^^ Z?/r of were the Plunder of those unhappy Persons whom they had so barbarously murdered, after having re- ceived so much Kindness and Civility from them. Roche in the mean while being confined in Newgate, went constantly to the Chapel, and appeared of so obliging a Temper, that many persuaded themselves he could not be guilty of the bloody Crimes laid to his charge ; and taking Advantage of these kind Thoughts of theirs, he framed a new Story in De- fence of himself; he said that there happened a Quar- rel on board the Ship between an Irishman and a Frenchman, and that Tartuoe taking part with his own Nation, threatened to lash the Irishman severely, though he was not any way in the Wrong ; this he pretended begat a general Quarrel between the tivo Nations ; and the Irish being the Stronger, they over- powered and threw the French overboard in the Heat of their Anger, withotd considering what they did. Throughout the whole Time he lay in Newgate, he very much delighted himself with the Exercise of his Pen, continually writing upon one Subject or other, often assisting his Fellow Prisoners in writing Letters or whatever else they wanted in that way. When he was told that Neal who died in the Marshalsea gushed out at all parts of his Body with Blood, so that before he expired he was as if he had been dipped in Gore, Roche replied, it was a just judgment that he who had always lived in blood, should die covered with it. Sometime afterward being told that one of his Companions had poisoned himself, he said, alas I that so evil an End should follow so evil a Life ; for his part he would suffer Providence to take its Course with him, and rather die the most ignomin- iotis Death, than to his other Crimes add that of Self Philip Roche, a Pirate. 195 murder. The Rest who had been apprehended dying one by one in the same dreadful Condition with Neal, that is, with the Blood gushing from every part of their Body, which looked so much like a Judgment, that all who saw it were amazed. He (Roche) began to think himself perfectly safe after the Death of his Companions, supposing that now there was nobody to bear any Testimony against him ; and therefore, instead of appearing any way dis- mayed, he most earnestly desired the speedy Ap- proach of an Admiralty Sessions. It was not long before it took place, and when he found what Evi- dence would be produced against him, he appeared much less solicitous about his Trial, than anybody in his Condition would have been expected to be ; but he very well knew it was impossible for them to prove him Guilty of the Murders, and as impossible for him to be acquitted of the Piracy. After receiving Sentence of Death, he declared himself a Papist, and that he could no longer comply with the Service of the' Church of England, and come to the Chapel ; he did not however think that he was in any Danger of Death, but supposed that the Promises which had been made him on his first Examination, would now take place and prevent the Execution of his Sentence. When therefore the Messenger returned from Hanover, and brought an express Order that he should die, he appeared exceedingly moved thereat, and without reflecting at all on the horrid and barbarous Treatment with which he had used others, he could not forbear com- plaining of the great Hardship he suffered in being put into the Death Warrant, after a Promise had been made him of Life, though nothing is more 196 The Life of certain than that he never performed any part of those Conditions upon which it was to have taken place. At the Place of Execution he was so faint, confused, and in such Consternation, that he could not speak either to the People, or to those who were nearer at hand, dying with the greatest Marks of Dejection and Confusion that could possibly be seen in any Criminal whatever. He was about 30 Years of Age at the Time of his Execution, which was at High Water Mark, Execution Dock, on the 14th oi August, 1723. The Life of Humphry Angier, an Highwayman and Foot-pad. E X T to the Life of Roche, the Course of those Papers from which I extract these Accounts, lead me to mention this Criminal, that the Deaths of Malefactors may not only terrify those who behold them dying, but also Posterity, who by hearing their Crimes, and the Event which they brought on, may avoid falling into the one, for fear of feeling the other. Humphry Angier was by Birth of the Kingdom of Ireland, his Father being a Man of humble Circumstances in a little Town a few Miles distant from Dublin. As soon as this Son was able to do anything, he sent him to the City of Cork, and there bound him Apprentice to a Cooper. His Behaviour while an Apprentice was so bad, that his Master utterly despaired to do any good with him, and therefore was not sorry that Humphry Angier, a Highwayman. i<)'j he ran away from him ; however he found a way to vex him sufficiently, for he got into a Crew of loose Fellows, which so far frightened the old Cooper, that he was at a considerable Expence to hire Persons to watch his House for the four Years that Angier loitered about that City. At last his Father even took him from thence, and brought him over into England, where he left him at full Liberty to do what he thought fit, resolving with himself, that if his Son would take to ill Courses, it should be where the Shame of his Villanies might not reflect upon him and his Family. He was now near Eighteen Years of Age, and being in some Fear that some Persons whom he had wronged might bring him into Danger, he listed him- self in the King's Service, and went down with a new raised Regiment into Scotland, where he hoped to make something by plundering the Inhabitants, it being in the Time of Rebellion. But he did not suc- ceed very well there, and on his Return fell into the Company of William Duce, whom we have before mentioned ; his Conversation soon seduced him to follow the same Course of Life, and that their Inti- macy might be the more strongly knit, he married Duces Sister ; then engaging himself with all that Gang, he committed abundance of Robberies in their Company ; but he was far from falling into that bar- barous- Manner of Beating the Passengers, which was grown Customary and habitual to Mead, Butler, and some othefs of his and Duces Companions. Angier told a particular Story of them, which made a very great Impression upon him, and cannot but give my Readers an Idea of that horrible Spirit which inspired those Wretches. Mead and Butler igS The Life of came one Evening to him very full of their Exploits, and the good luck they had had, when Mead parti- cularly having related every Circumstance which had happened since their last parting, said, that amongst others whom they had robbed, they met a smooth faced Shoe-maker, who said he was just married and was going home to his Friends ; they persuaded him to turn out of the Road to look in the Hedge for a Bird's Nest, whither he "Was no sooner got, btit they botmd, gagged, and robbed him, and afterwards tttrning back, barbarously clapped a Pistol to his Head and shot out his Brains. After this Angier declared he would never drink in the Company of Mead, and when Butler sometimes talked after the same Manner, he used to Reprove him, by telling him, that Crtielty was no Courage ; at which Btitler and some of his Com- panions sometimes laughed, and told him, he had singular Notions of Courage. After this, he and his Wife {Duces Sister) set up a little Ale-hotise by Charing-Cross, which soon against his Will, though not without his Consent, became a Bawdy-house, a Receptacle for Thieves, &c. This sort of Company soon rendered his House so Suspicious and so Ob- noxious to the Magistrates for the City of Westminster that he quickly found the necessity of moving from thence ; he then went and set up a Brandy-shop, where the same People came, though as he pretended much to his Dissatisfaction. While he kept the Ale- house, there was two odd Accidents befell him, which brought him for the first time to Newgate. It hap- pened that while he was out one Day, a Diitch Woman picked up a Gentleman and brought him to Angier s House, where while he was asleep, she picked his Pocket and left him. For this Angier Humphry Angier, a Highwayman. 199 and his Maid was taken up, and tried for it and ac- quitted at the Old-Bailey ; he was also at the same time tried for another Offence, viz. an Irishwoman coming to his House and drinking pretty hard there he at last carried her up Stairs, and throwing her upon a Bed, pretended a great Affection for her Person ; but his Wife coming in and pretending to be jealous of the Woman, pulled her off the Bed, and in doing so picked her Pocket of four Guineas. But of this there being no direct Evidence against him, he was also acquitted. However, it ruined his House and Credit, and drove him upon that which was too much his Inclination, the taking Money by Force upon the Road. He now got into Acquaintance with Carrick, Car- rol, Lock, Kelly, and many others of that Stamp, with whom he committed several Villanies, but al- ways pretended to be above picking of Pockets, which he said was practised by none of their Crew but Hugh Kelly, who was a very dexterous Fellow in his Way. However, when Angier was in Custody, Abundance of People applied to him, to help them to their Gold-Watches, Snuff-boxes, &c. But as he told them, so he persisted in it always, that he knew nothing of the Matter, and Kelly being gone over into America and there settled, there was no hopes of getting any of them again. One Evenijag he and Milksop, one of his Compan- ions being upon the Road to St. Albans, a little on this Side of it, met a Gentleman's Coach, and in it a young Man and two Ladies. They immediately called to the Coachman to stop, but he neglecting to obey their Summons, they knocked him off from the Box, having first disabled him to whip off, by shoot- 200 The Life of ing one of his Horses ; they then dragged him under the Coach, which running over him hurt him exceed- ingly, and even endangered his Life. Then they robbed the young Gentleman and the Ladies of whatever ^&y had about them valuable, using them rudely, and stripping things off them in a very harsh and cruel way ; Angier excused this, by saying at the Time he did it, he was much in Liquor. In the beginning of the Year 1 726, Angier who had so long escaped Punishment for the Offences which he had committed, was very near suffering for one in which he had not the least hand ; for a Person of Quality's Coachman being robbed of a Watch and some Money, a Woman of the Town, whom Angier and one of his Companions had much abused, was there- upon taken up, having attempted to pawn the Fellow's Watch, after he had advertised it. She played the Hypocrite very dexterously upon her Apprehension, and said that the Robbery was not committed by her ; but Angier, Armstrong, and another young Man, were the Persons who took it, and by her help they were seized and committed to Newgate, and at the ensuing Sessions, the Woman swore roundly against them ; but the Fellow being more tender, and some Circumstances of their In- nocence plainly appearing, they were acquitted by the Jury, and that very justly in this Case, in which they had no Hand. During the Time he lay under Sentence, he behaved himself with much Penitence for another Offence, always calling earnestly to God for his Assistance and Grace to Comfort him under those heavy Sorrows which his Follies and Crimes had so justly brought upon him. At the Place of Execution HuMpriRY Angiek, a Highwayman. 201 he did not appear at all terrified at Death, but sub- mitted with the same Resignation which for a long space he had professed, since his being under Con- finement. Immediately before he suffered he collected his Spirits, and spoke in the following Terms, to that Crowd which always attends on such melancholy Occasions. Good People, / see many of you here Assembled to behold my wretched End. I hope it will induce you to avoid those Evils which have brought me hither. Sometime before my being last taken ttp, T had formed within myself m^ost steady purposes of Amendment, which it is a great Comfort to me, even here, that I never broke them., having lived at Henley upon Thames both with a good Repiitation, and in a manner which deserved it. I heartily forgive, and I hope God will do the same. Dyer, whose Evidence hath taken away m.y Life. I hope he will make a good Use of that Tim,e which the Price of my Blood and that of others has procured him. I heartily desire Pardon of all whom I have Injured, and declare that in the several Robberies I have committed I have been always careful to avoid committing any Murder. After this he adjusted the Rope about his own Neck, and submitted to that Sentence which the Law directed. He suffered on the 9th September, 1 723, being at the time about 29 Years of Age. 202 The Life of The Life of Captain Stanley, a Mti,rderer. [HERE cannot be a greater Misfortune than to want Education, except it be this, having a bad one. The Minds of young Persons are generally compared to Paper, on which we may write whatever we think fit ; but if it be once blurred and blotted with improper Characters, it becomes then much harder to impress proper Senti- ments thereon, because those which were first there must be totally Erased. This seems to have been too much the Case with the unhappy Person of whom the thread of these Narrations requires that I should speak, viz.. Captain Stanley. This tinhappy young Gentleman was the Son of an Officer in the Army ; he married the Sister of Mr. Palmer, of Duce-Hall, in Essex, where she was drottght to Bed of this tmfor- tnnate Son John, in the Year 1698. The first Rudiments he received were those of Cruelty and Blood, when five Years old his Father often parrying and thrtisting with him a Sword, and pricking him himself, and encouraging other Officers to play with him in the same manner, that his Boy (as old Stanley phrased it) might never be afraid of a Point, a wretched Method of bringing ii.p a Child, and which was highly likely to prodtice the sad End he came to. He served afterwards in the Army with his Father in Spain and Portugal, where he suffered Hardships enough, but they did not very much affect him. He acquired by his hopeful Education so Savage a Captain Stanley, a Murderer. 203 Temper, as to delight in nothing so much as trampling on the dead Carcasses in the Field after an Engage- ment. Returning into England with his Father, old Stanley had the Misfortune to stab a near Relation of my Lord Newbury s in the Tilt Yard, for which he was committed Prisoner to Newgate ; afterwards being released and commanded into Ireland, he carried with him this Son yohn, and procured for him an Ensign's Commission in a Regiment there. Poor young Stanley's sprightly Temper gained him abun- dance of Acquaintance — and if it be not to prophane the Name — Friends, amongst the young Rakes in Ireland, some of whom were Persons of great Quality, and had such an Affection for him as to continue their visits, and relieve his Necessities when under his last misfortunes in Newgate. But such Company involving him at that time in Expenses he was in no way able to support, he was obliged shortly to part with his Ensign's Commission for ready Money, which gave his Father great Pain and Uneasiness. Not long after he came again into England and to London, where he pursued the same methods, though his Father importuned him to apply to General Stanhope, as a person he was sure would assist him, having been always a friend to their Family, and particularly to old Stanley himself. But yack was become a Favourite with the Ladies, and had taken an easier road to what he accounted Happiness, living either upon the Benevolence of Friends, the Fortune of the Dice, or the Favours of the Sex. A continual round of sensual Delights employed his time, and he was so far from endeavouring to attain any other Commission or Employment, in order to support him, that there was nothing he So much 204 The Life of feared as his being obliged to quit that Life he loved; for old Stanley was continually soliciting for him, and as he had very good Interest, nothing but his Son's notorious Misbehaviour made him not prevail. Jack in the Course of his Extravagancies often fixed himself upon young Men coming into the World, and under pretence of being their Tutor in the fashionable Vices of the Town, shared in their Pleasures, and help them to squander their Estates. Of this Stamp was a gay young Yorkshire Squire, who by the Death of an Uncle was come into the Possession of a large Estate, and by the Loss of his Father while a Boy, had had so little Education as not to know ho\y to use it. Him Stanley got hold of, and persuaded him that nothing was so advanta- geous to a young Gentleman as Travel, and drew him in to make a Tour of Flanders and Holland in his Company. Stanley though a very wild young Fellow, gave a tolerable account of the Places, espe- cially the Fortifications which he had seen, and suffi- ciently demonstrated how capable he might have been of making an exalted Figure in the World, if due care had been taken to furnish him with any Princi- ples in his Youth ; but the Neglect of that undid him, and every Opportunity which he afterwards had of acquiring any thing, instead of making him an accomplished Gentleman, did him Mischief. Thus his Journey to Paris in Company with the before- mentioned Gentleman, helped him to an Opportunity of Learning to Fence to the greatest Perfection, and the Skill he was sensible he had in the Sword made him ever ready to quarrel and seek Occasions to use it. Amongst the Multitude of his Amours he became Captain Stanley, a Murderer. 205 acquainted and passionately fond of one Mrs. May- cock, whose Husband was once an eminent Trades- man upon Ludgate-Hill ; by her he had a Child of which also he was very fond. This Woman was the Source of the far greater Part of his Misfortunes ; for when his Father had procured him a handsome Commission in the Service of the African Company, and he had received a considerable Sum of Money for his Voyage, appearing perfectly satisfied himself, and behaving in so grave and decent a manner as filled his Family and Relations with very agreeable Hopes, they were all blasted by Mrs. May cock's coming to Portsmouth with her Child, where he was to embark. She so far prevailed upon his Inclinations as to get him to give her one Half of the Company's Money, and to return to Town with the other half himself. On his coming up to London he avoided going to his Father's, who no sooner heard how dis- honourably his Son had behaved, but laying it more to Heart than all the rest of his Misfortunes, Grief in a short time put an End to them all by his Death. When the News of it came to young Stanley, he fell into transports of Grief and Passion, which as many of his intimate Companions said, so disturbed his Brain, that he never afterwards was in a right Temper, as indeed appeared by several Accidents, some of which were afterwards sworn at his Trial ; particularly that while he lodged in the House of Mr. Underhill, somebody having quoted a Sentence of Latin in his Company, he was so disturbed at the Thoughts of his having had such Opportunities of acquiring the Knowledge of that Language, and yet continuing ignorant thereof, through his Negligence and Debauchery, that it made at that time so strong 2o6 The Life of an Impression on his Spirits, that starting up, he drew a Pen-Knife and attempted to stab himself, without any other Cause of Passion. At other times he would fall into sudden and grievous Rages, either at Trifles, or at nothing at all, abuse his best Friends, and endeavour to injure himself, and then coming to a better Temper, begged them to forgive him, for he did not know what he did. During the latter part of his Life, his Circumstances were so bad, that he was reduced to doing many dirty Actions, which I am persuaded otherwise would not have happened ; such as going into Gentlemen's select Companies at Taverns, and without any other Ceremony, than telling them his Impudence must make him welcome to a Dinner with them ; after which instead of thank- ing them for their Kindness, he would often pick a Quarrel with them, though Strangers, and be for drawing his Sword and fighting before he left the Room. Such Behaviour made him obnoxious to all who were not downright Debauchees like himself, and hindered Persons of any Rank conversing with him as they were wont. In the meantime his Favourite, Mrs. Maycock, whom he had some time lived with as a Wife, and even prevailed with his Mother to visit her as such, being no longer able to live at his Rate, or bear with his Temper, frequented a House in the Old-Bailey, where it was supposed, and perhaps with Truth, that she received other Company. This made Stanley very uneasy, who like most young Rakes thought himself at Liberty to pursue as many Women as he pleased, but could not forgive any Liberties taken by a Woman whom he forsooth had honoured with his Affections. One Night therefore, seeing her in Captain Stanley, a MiLrderer. 207 Fleet-street with a Man and a Woman, he came up to her, and gently tapped her on the Shoulder, she turning, cried, what my dear Captain ! and so on they went talking till they came to this House in the Old-Bailey ; there some Words happened about the mutual Misfortunes they had brought upon one another. Mrs. Maycock reproached him with seduc- ing her, and bringing on all the Miseries she had ever felt. Stanley again reflected on her for hinder- ing his Voyage to Cape Coast, the extravagant Sums he had spent upon her, and her now conversing with other Men, though she had had three or four Chil- dren by him. At last they grew very high, and Mrs. Maycock who was naturally a very sweet tem- pered Woman, was so far provoked (as Stanley said) that she threw a Ctip with Beer at him ; upon which some ill Names passing* between them, Stanley drew his Sword and stabbed her between the Breast eight Inches deep, immediately upon which he stopped his Handkerchief into the Wound. He was quickly secured and committed for the present to Wood-street Compter. There he expressed very little Concern at what had happened, laughing and giving himself abundance of Airs, such as by no means became a Man in his Condition. On his Commitment to Newgate, he seemed not to abate the least of that Vivacity which was natural to his Temper, and as he had too much mistaken Vice for the Characteristic of a fine Gentleman, so now nothing appeared to him so great a Testimony of Gallantry and Courage as behaving intrepidly while Death was so near in its Approach. He therefore entertained all who con- versed with him in the Prison, and all who visited him from without, with the History of his Amours, 2o8 The Life of and the Favours that had been bestowed on him by a Multitude of fine Ladies ; nay, his Vanity and Impudence was so great as to mention some of their Names, and especially to asperse two Ladies, who lived near Cheapside Conduit. But there is great Reason to believe, that part of this was put on to make his Madness more probable at his Trial. On which he behaved very oddly, and when he received Sentence of Death, took Snuff at the Bar, and put on abundance of Airs, that were even ridiculous any- where, and shocking and scandalous upon so melan- choly an Occasion. After Sentence his Carriage under his Confinement altered not so much as one would have expected ; he offering to lay Wagers that he should never be hanged, notwithstanding his Sentence, for he was re- solved not to die like a Dog in a String, when he had it in his Power always to go out of the World a nobler way, by which he meant either a Knife or Opium, by one of which he resolved to prevent his Fate. But when he found that all his Pretences of Madness were like to produce nothing, and that he was in Danger of dying in every Respect like a Brute, he laid aside much of his ill-timed Gaiety, and began to think of preparing for Death after another manner. These Gentleman who assisted him while in Newgate, were so kind as to offer the making up of a considerable Sum of Money, if it could have been of any Use ; but finding that neither that, nor their Interest could do any thing to save him, they frankly acquainted him therewith, and begged him not to delude himself with false Hopes. All the while he was in Newgate, a little Boy whom he had by Mrs. Maycock continued with him, and lay constantly in his Captain Stanley, a Miirderer. 209 Bosom. He manifested the utmost Tenderness and Concern for that poor Child, who had been deprived by his Rashness of his Mother, and whom the Law would by its just Sentence, now likewise deprive of its Father. Being told that Mr. Bryan, Mrs. May- cocks Brother, of Tower-Hill, was dead, merely through concern at his Sister's Misfortunes, and the deplorable End that followed them, Stanley clapped his Hands together, and cried, what more Death still ? sure I am the most unforttmate Wretch that was ever born. Some few Days before his Execution, talking to one of his Friends, he said, I am. perfectly convinced that it is false Courage to avoid thejicst Sentence of the Law, by executing the rash Dictates of ones Rage by ones own Hand. I am heartily sorry for the rash Expressio?is I have been Guilty of, of that sort, and am determ,ined to let the World see m.y Courage fails m.e no m.ore in m^y Death, than it has done in my Life ; and my dear Friend (added he) / never felt so much Ease, Quiet, and Satisfaction in all my Life, as I have experienced since my coming to this Resolution. But though he sometir^es expressed himself in a serious and religious Manner ; yet Passion would sometimes break in upon him to the last, and make him burst out into frightful and horrid Speeches ; then again he would grow calm and cool, and speak with great seeming Sense of God's Providence in his Afflictions. He was particularly affected with two Accidents which happened to him not long before his Death, and which struck him with great Concern at the time they happened ; the first of these was a Fall from his Horse under Tybtirn, in which he was so stunned, that he could not recover 2IO The Life of Strength enough to remount, but was helped on his Horse again by the Assistance of two Friends ; not long after which, he had as bad an Accident of the same kind under Newgate, which he said, made siuh an Impression on kipt, that he did not go abroad for many Mornings afterwards, without recommending himself in the most serious Manner to the Divine Protection. Another Story he also told with many Marks of real Thankfulness for the narrow Escape he then made from Death, which happened thus : he fell out at a Cider Cellar in Covent Garden, with one Captain Chickley, and challenging him to fight in a dark Room, they were then shut up together for some Space ; but a Constable being sent for by the People of the House, and breaking the Door open, delivered him from being sent altogether unprepared out of the World. Chickley being much too hard for him, and having given him a Wound quite through the Body, himself escaping with only a slight Cut or two. As the Day of Execution drew near, Mr. Stanley appeared more serious and much more attentive to his Devo- tions than hitherto he had been ; yet could he not wholly contain himself even then ; for the Sunday before he died, after Sermon, at which he had behaved himself decently and modestly, he broke out into this wild Expression : tJiat he was only sorry he had not fired the lohole House where he killed Mrs. Maycock. When he was reproved for these things, he would look ashamed, and say, it was true, they were very unbecoming, but they ivcrc what lie could not help, arising from certain Starts in his Imagination, that hurried him into a short Madness, for which he was very sorry as soon as he came to himself. Captain Stanley, a Murderer. 211 At the Place of Execution, to which he was conveyed in a Mourning Coach, he turned pale, seemed uneasy, and complained that he was very sick, entreating a Gentleman by him to support him with his Hand. He desired to be unbound that he might be at Liberty tp pray kneeling, which with some Difficulty was granted ; he then applied himself to his Devotions with much Fervency, and then submit- ted to his Fate, but when the Cap was drawn over his Eyes he seemed to shed Tears abundantly. Immediately before he was turned off, he said, /u's Friends had provided a Hearse to carry away his Body, and he hoped nobody would be so crtiel as to deny his Relations his dead Limbs to be interred, adding, that unless he were assured of this, he could not die in Peace. Such was the End of a young Man, in Person and Capacity every way fitted to have made a reputable Figure in the World, if either his' natural Principles or his Education had laid any Restraint upon his Vices ; but as his Passions hurried him beyond all Bounds, so they brought a just End upon themselves, by finishing a Life spent in sensual Pleasures with an ignominious Death, which happened in the 25th Year of his Age, on the 23rd oi December, 1723, at Tybitrn. 212 The Life of The Life of Stephen Gardiner, an Highwayman and House-breaker. \TEPHEN GARDINER was the Son of Parents of middling Circumstances, living at the Time of his Birth in Moor-Fields, which perhaps was the immediate Cause of his Ruin, since he learnt there while a Boy to idle away his Time and to look on nothing as so great a Pleasure, as Gaming and Cudgel-playing, which took up equally his Time and his Thoughts, till he grew up to about Fourteen Years old, when his Friends placed him out an Apprentice to a Weaver. While he was with this Master, he did so many unlucky Tricks as occasioned not only severe Usage at home, but incurred also the Dislike and Hatred of all the Neighbours, so that instead of interposing to preserve him from his Master's Correction, they were continu- ally complaining and getting him beat; nay, sometimes when his Master was not ready enough to do it, would beat him themselves. Stephen was so wearied out with this kind of Treatment, notwithstanding it arose solely from his own Fault, that he determined in order to redress it, to run away for Good and all, thinking it would be no difficult Matter for him to maintain himself, considering that Dexterity with which he played at Nine-pins, Skittles, &c., but Experience quickly convinced him of the Contrary ; being so much reduced in one Month after his betaking himself to this Life, by those Misfortunes Stephen Gx^ju'^^^lk, a Highwayman. 213 which were evident enough, though his Passion for Liberty and Idleness hindered him from foreseeing them, that he had not so much as Bread to eat, and in this distressed Condition was glad to return home again to his Friends, imploring their Charity, and that, forgetting what was passed, they would be so kind as to relieve him and put him in some Method for providing for himself Natural Affection pleading for him, notwithstanding all his Failings, they took him home again, and soon after put him as a Boy on board a Corn Vessel, which traded to Holland and France; but the Swearing, Quarrelling, and Fighting of the Sailors so frightened him, being then very young, and unable to cope with them, that on his Return he again implored the Tenderness of his Relations to permit his staying in England upon any Terms, promising to live in the most sober and regular manner, provided he might get his Bread by hard Labour at home, and not be exposed to the Injuries of Wind and Weather, and the Abuses of Seamen, more boisterous than both. They again complied, and put him to another Trade, but Work it seems was a Thing nothing could reconcile to him, and so he run away from thence too, and once more put himself for a Livelihood upon the Contrivance of his own Brain. He went immediately to his old Employment and old Haunt, Moor Fields, where as long as he had any Money he played at Cards, Skittles, &c., with the Chiefs of those villainous Gangs that Haunt that Place, and when reduced to the Want both of Money and Clothes, he attempted to pick pockets, or played with Lads for Farthings to recruit himself But Pocket-picking was a Trade in which he had very ill 214 The Life of Luck ; for taking a Wig out of a Gentleman's Pocket at the Drawing of the State Lottery, the Man suffered him totally to take it out, then seizing him, cried out, a Pickpocket. The Boy immediately dropped it, and giving it a little Kick with his Foot protested his Innocence, which induced a good natured Person there present to stand so far his Friend, that he suffered no further that Bout. But a Month after, being taken in the same Manner, and delivered over to the Mob, they handled him with such Cruelty as scarce to leave him Life ; though he often upon his Knees begged them to carry him before a Justice, and let him be committed to Newgate ; but the Mob were not so to be prevailed on, and this Severity (as he said) curbed him effectually of that Method of Thieving. But in the Course of his Rambling Life, becoming acquainted with two young Fellows, whose Names were Garraway and Sly, they invited him to go with them upon some of their Expeditions in the Night ; but he absolutely refused to do anything of that Kind for a long time. But one Evening having been so unlucky as to loose not only all his Money, but all his Clothes off his Back, he went then in search of Sly and Garraway, who received him with open Arms, and immediately carried him with them, upon those Exploits by which they got their Living. Garraway proposed robbing of his Brother for their first Attempt, which succeeded so far as to their getting into the House, but they found nothing there but a little Clothes of his Brother and Sister, which they took away, but Garraway bid them not to be discouraged at the Smallness of the Booty, for his Father's House was as well furnished as most Men, and their next Attack should be on that. To this Stephen G Ki<'Di'!:i¥.\\, a Highwayman. 215 they agreed, and plundered it also, taking away some Spoons, Tankards, Salts, and several other Pieces of Plate of considerable Value ; but a quick search being made, they were all three apprehended, and Gardiner being the Youngest, was admitted an Evidence against the other two, who were convicted. Some Weeks after- Gardiner got his Liberty, but being unwarned, he went on still at the same rate. The first Robbery he committed afterwards was in the House of the Father of one of his Acquaintance on Addle Hill, where Gardiner stole softly up Stairs into the Garret, and stole from thence some Men's Apparel to a considerable Value. A while after this he became acquainted with Mr. Richard yones, and went with him mounted upon a strong Horse into Wales, upon what in the canting Dialect is called, the passing Lay , which in plain English\?,\}cM's, : they get Country Men into an Ale-house, under Pretence of talking about the Sale of Cattle ; then a Pack of Cards is found as if by Accident somewhere, and the two Sharpers fall to playing with one another, until one offering to lay a great Wager on the Game, -staking the Money down, the other shews his Hand to the Countryman, and convinces him that it is impossible but he must win ; offering to let him go Halves in the Wager. As soon as the Countryman lays down the Money, these Sharpers manage so as to pass off with it, which is the meaning of their Cant, and this Practice he was very successful in. The Country People in Wales, where they travelled, had not had Opportunity to become acquainted with such Bites, as those who live in the Counties near London have, where the Country Fellows are often as adroit as any of the Sharpers themselves. 2i6 The Life of It happened that the Person with whom Stephen travelled, had parted with his Wife, and at Bristol received a Gold Watch and Chain, laced Clothes, and several other things of Value. This immediately put it into Gardiner s\&2,'di, that he might make a Fortune at once, by murdering him and possessing himself of his Goods, knowing that besides these valuable Things, he had near a Hundred Guineas about him. In order to effect this, he stole a large Brass Pestle, out of a Mortar at the next Inn, and carried it un- perceived in his Boots, intending as he and his Com- panion rode through the Woods, to dash his Brains out with it. Twice for this purpose he drew it out, but his Heart relenting just when he was going to give the Stroke, he put it up again, at last it fell out of his Boot, and he had much ado to get it pulled up unperceived by his Companion. The next Day it dropped again, and Gardiner was so much afraid of Joness perceiving it, and himself being thereupon killed from a Suspicion of his Design, that he there- upon laid aside all further Thoughts of that Matter ; but took Occasion in a Day or two after to part with him ; whereupon the other as Stephen was going away, called out to him, hark ye, you Gardiner ! I'll tell you somewhat, Gardiner thereupon turning back ; you are going up to London said yones, yes, replied Gardiner ; then trust me, said the other, you're going up to be hanged. Between Abergavenny and Mon- mouth, Gardiner took notice of a little House, the Windows being shut up ; but the Hens and Cocks in the back Yard shewed that it was inhabited. Gardiner thereupon knocked at the Door several times, to see if anybody was at home, but perceiving none, he ventured to break open some wooden Bars that lay Stephen G p^'B.viitiv.K, a Highwayman. 217 across the Window, and getting in thereat found two Boxes full of Clothes, and Writings relating to an Estate. He took only one Gown, not daring to load himself with Clothes, for fear of being discovered on the Road, being then coming -up to London. A very- short Space after his Return, he committed that Fact for which he died, which was by breaking open the House of Dorcas Roberts, Widow, and stealing thence a great Quantity of Linen. He was soon after ap)- prehended in Bed, with one of the fine Shirts on his Back, and the rest of the Linen stowed under the Bed. When carried before the Justice, he said one Martin brought the Linen to him, and gave him two fine Shirts to conceal it in his Brandy-shop ; but this Pretence being thought improbable both by the Magistrate who committed him, and by the Jury who tried him, he was convicted for that Offence, and being an old Offender, he had no hopes of Mercy. He applied himself therefore, with all the Earnest- ness he was able, to prepare himself sufficiently for that Change he was about to make. He said that an Accident which happened about a Year before, gave him great Apprehension, and for some time prevented his continuing in that wicked Course of Life ; the Accident he mentioned was this ; being taken up for some trivial thing or other, and carried to St. Sepulchre s Watch-house, the Constable was so kind as to dismiss him, but the Bellman of the Parish happening to come in before he went out, the Con- stable said, young Man, be careful, I am- m,uch afraid this Bellman will say his Verses over you ; at which Gardiner was so much struck, he could scarcely speak. Stephen had very great notions of mortifying his Body, as some Atonement for the Crimes he 2iS The Life of had committed ; he therefore fasted sometimes while under Sentence, and though the Weather was very cold, yet he went to Execution with no other Covering on him but his Shroud. At Tyburn he addressed himself to the People, and begged they would not reflect upon his Parents, who knew nothing of his Crimes. Seeing several of his old Companions in the Crowd, he called out to them, and desired them to take Notice of his Death, and by amending their Lives avoid following him thither. He died the 3rd of Febnuiry, 1723-4. The Lives of Samuki, Ogden, Jcjhn Pugii, William Frost, Richard Woodman, ««rtf William Elisiia, Highway-nicn, Foot-pads, House-breakers, &c. 4MUEL OGDEN, was the Son of a Sailor in Southwark, who bred him to his own Employment, in which he wrought honestly for many Years, until he fell ill of a Dropsy, for the Cure of which he was carried to St. Thomas s Hospital. After his Recovery, he applied himself to selling F"ish, instead of going again to Sea. How he came to be engaged in the Crimes he after- wards perpetrated, we cannot tell, and therefore shall not pretend to relate ; however, he associated himself with a very numerous Gang, such as Mills, Pugh, Blunt, Bishop, Gictteridge, and Matthews, who became the Evidence against him. He positively averred, that one of the Robberies for which he was convicted was the first he ever committed ; he expressed the Samuel Ogden, &c. 219 greatest Horror and Detestation for Murder imagin- able, protesting he was nO way guilty of that committed on Bristow Causeway. At the time of his Trial at Kingston, he behaved himself very insolently and audaciously ; but when Sentence had been passed upon him, most of that unruly Temper was lost, and he began to think seriously of preparing for another World. He confessed that his Sins were many, and that the Judgment against him was just; meekly accepting his Death as the due Reward of his Deeds. He was an Example of Seriousness and Penitence to the other twelve Malefactors who suffered with him, being about 37 Years of Age at the Time of his Decease. John Pii'gh, otherwise Blueskin,^ was born at Morpoth, near Newcastle-upon- Tyne. His Father was a Carrier in tolerable Business and Circumstances, who put him to be Servant at a Silver Spinners in Moorfields, where he soon learnt all sorts of Wicked- ness, beginning with defrauding his Master, and doing any other little Tricks of that Kind, as Oppor- tunity would give him leave ; and we are told of him what can be hardly said of any other Criminal, who hath died in the same way for many Years past, that though he was but twenty-two years of Age, he had spent twelve of them in Cheating, Pilfering, and Robbing. At last he fell in with the Gang that brought him to his Death, for a Robbery committed by several of them in the County of Surrey. Pugh, though so young a Fellow, was so unaccountably and stupidly wicked, that though he made a large and particular Confession of his Guilt, yet it was done in such a Manner as plainly shewed his Crimes made no just impression upon his Heart ; all he said, being 2 20 The Life of in the Language of the Kingston Ordinary, the Sleepy apprehensions of unwakened Ignorance, in which Condition he continued to the last. William Frost, a Cripple, was the Son of a Phi- maker in Christ-Church Parish, Southwark ; and as to his Education, my account says it was in hereditary Ignorance. He had wrought it seems while a Boy at his Father's Trade of Pin making, but since he was 1 3 or 1 4 he addicted himself to that preparative Trade to the Gallows, Shoeblacking. While he con- tinued in this most honourable Profession, abundance of Opportunities offered for robbing in the Night Season, and we must do him the Justice to say, that they were not offered in vain ; thus by Degrees he came on to robbing on the Road, and in the Streets, until he was apprehended, and upon the Evidence of his Companion was convicted. The Stmday after his Conviction, he with the rest of the Malefactors, was brought to the Parish Church, which was the first Time, as he declared, he had ever entered one, at least with an Intention to hear and observe what was said. There he made a blundering sort of Con- fession, and would perhaps have been more Penitent if he had known well what Penitence was, but he was a poor stupid doltish Wretch, scarce sensible even of the Misfortune of being hanged. He was however very attentive in the Cart to the Prayer of those who were a little better instructed than himself, and finished a wretched Life with an ignominious Death, at twenty-one Years of Age. Richard Woodman was born in Newington, in Surrey. He got his Bread some Years by selling Milk about, but thinking Labour too great a Price for Victuals, he addicted himself to gettingf an easier Samuel Ogden, &€. 221 Livelihood by Thieving. In this Course he soon got in with a Gang who let him want no Instructions that were necessary to bring him to the Gallows. Amongst whom, the above mentioned Lame Man was his principal Tutor. The last Robbery but one that they ever committed was upon a poor Man, who had laid out his Money in the purchase of a Shoulder of Mutton to feast his Family ; but they disappointed him by taken it away, and with it a bundle of Clothes and other Necessaries, by which the unfortunate person who lost them, though their Value was not much, lost all he had. His Behaviour was pretty much of a Piece with the Rest of his Companions, that is, he was like them, so unaffected either with the Shamefulness of the Death, or the danger of their Souls, that perhaps never any Creatures went to Death in a more odd manner than these did ; whose Behaviour cannot for all that be charged with any Rudeness or want of Decency, but Religion and Repentance were Things so wholly New to them, and so unsuited to their Comprehension, that there . needed a much greater length of Time than they had, to have given them any true Sense of their Duty, to which it cannot be said that they were so' averse, as they were ignorant and incapable. William Elisha was another of these Wretches, but he seemed to have had a better Education than most of them, though he made as ill a Use of it as any. Having been once an Evidence at Croyden Assizes, where he convicted two of his Companions, the Sight of their Execution, and the Consciousness of having preserved his own Life, merely by taking theirs, did not in the least contribute to his Amend- ment ; for he was no sooner at Liberty but he was 222 The Life of engaged in new Crimes, until at last with those Malefactors before mentioned, and with eight others, he was executed at Kingston, in the twenty-fourth Year of his Age, April 4, 1 724. The Life of Thomas Burden, a Robber. NOMAS BURDEN was born in Dorset- shire, of Parents in tolerable Circumstances, who being Persons getting their Livelihood by Seamen, they bred up their Son to that Profession, and sent him very young to Sea. It does not appear that he ever liked that Employment, but rather that he was hurried into it by the Choice of his Parents when he was very young, and therefore in no Condition to choose better for himself ■ He was up in the Straights several Years, and while there in an abundance of Fights, at which time he had so much Religion as to apply himself diligently to God in Prayer for his Protection, and made Abundance of Vows and Resolutions of Amendment, if it pleased the Providence of God to preserve his Life ; but no sooner was the Danger over, but all these Promises were forgotten until the next Time he was in Jeopardy . At this Rate he went on until the War was over ; and notwithstanding the Aversion he always had to a Military kind of Life, yet such was his unconquerable Aversion to Labour, that he rather enlisted himself in the Land Service than submit thereto. Going over one Day to Hounslow, to the House of one of the Staff Officers of his Thomas Burden, a Robber. 223 Regiment, and not finding him at home, but a Corporal only, whom the Officer had left at the house to give Answers, with* this Corporal he sat, chattering and talking until Night, so that being obliged to stay there until the next Morning, a Dis- course some how or other happened between him and the Person who entertained him, about William Zouch, an old Man who lived alone upon the Common, and Burden having been drinking, it came into his Head, how easily he might rob such an old Man ; upon which he immediately went to his House, and finding him sitting on the Bench at his Door, he began to talk with and ask him Questions. The old Man answered him with great Mildness^ until at last Btirden drew an Iron Instrument out of his Cane, threatening him with Death, if he did not discover where his Money was. Zouch thereupon brought it him in a Pint Pot, being but one and thirty Shillings, and then tyeing the old Man in his Chair left him. But it seems he did not tie him so fast but that he easily got loose, and alarming the Town, Burden was quickly taken, having fled along the Common, which was open to the Eye for a long way, instead of taking into the Town or the Woods, which, if he had, in all probability he might have escaped. When Whitting- ton and Greenbury apprehended him, he did not deny the Fact, but on the Contrary offered them Money to let him go. After his Conviction he manifested vast Uneasiness at the Thoughts of Death*; appear- ing wonderfully moved, that he who lived so long in the World with the Reputation of an honest Man, should now die with that of a Thief, and in the manner of a Dog ; but as Death drew nearer, and he saw there was no Remedy, he began to be a little 2 24 The Life of more Penitent and resigned, especially when he was comforting himself with the Hopes that his temporal Punishment here might preserve him from feeling everlasting Misery. With these Thoughts having somewhat composed himself, he approached the Place where he was to suffer, with tolerable Temper and Constancy, entreating the People who were there in very great Numbers to pray for him, and begging that all by his Example would learn to stifle the first Motions to Wickedness and Sin, since such- was the Depravity of human Nature that no Man knew how soon he might fall. Yet at the same Place he delivered a Paper in which he much extenuated the Crime for which he suffered, and from whence he would fain have insinuated that it was a rash Action committed when in Drink, and which he should certainly have set right again when he was sober. In this Frame of Mind he suffered, on the 29th of April, 1 724, being then about fifty Years ,of Age. The Life of Frederick Schmidt, an Alterer of Bank-notes. [HEN Persons sin out of Ignorance, there is Jloom for Pity, and when Persons suddenly become guilty of Evil through a precipitate yielding to the Violence of their Passions, thei-e is still room for Extenuation. But when People sin not only against Knowledge but delibe- rately, and without the Incitement of any violent Pas- Frederick Schmidt, a Forger. 225 sion, such as Anger or Lust ; as nothing can be said in Alleviation, so there is' little or no Room left for Compassion. Frederick Schmidt was born of a very honourable and wealthy Family at Breslaw, the Capital of the Duchy of Silesia, in the North-East of Germany. They educated this their Son not only in such a Manner as might qualify him for the Occupation they designed him of a Merchant, but also gave him a most learned and liberal Knowledge, such as suited a Person of the highest Rank. He lived however at Breslaw as a Merchant for many Years, and at the Request of his Friends, when very young married a Lady of considerable Fortune ; but upon some Dis- gust at her Behaviour they parted, and had not lived together for many Years before his Death. He carried on a very considerable Correspondence to Ham-burg, Am^sterdam, and other Places, and about a Year before had been over in England to transact some Affairs ; and thought it, it seems, so easy a Matter to live here by his Wits, that he returned hither with the Baron Vanloden and the Countess Vanbostran. It is very hard to say what these People really were, some People taking Schmidt for the Baron's Servant ; but he himself affirmed, and indeed it seems most likely, that they were Compan- ions, and that both of them exerted their utmost Skill in defrauding others to maintain her. The Method they took here for that Purpose, was by altering Bank-notes, which they did so dexterously, as absolutely to prevent all Suspicion. They succeeded in paying away two of them, but the Fraud being discovered by the Check Book at the Bank, Schmidt was apprehended and brought to a Trial ; there it Q 226 The Life of was sworn that being possessed of a Bank-note of ^25, he had turned it into one of ^85, and with the Baron Vanloden, tendered it to one Monsieur Mallorey, who gave him Goods for it, and another Note of £20. It was deposed by the Baron Vanloden and Eleonora Sophia, Countess Vanbostran, that Schmidt took the last mentioned Note of ^20 up Stairs, and soon after brought it down again, the Word Twenty being taken out, upon which they drew it through a Plate of gummed Water, and then smoothing it between several Papers with a Box Iron, the Words One Hundred were written in its Place ; then he gave it to the Baron and the Interpreter to go out and buy Plate, which they did, to the Amount of £\o. It appeared also by the same Witnesses, that Schmidt had owned to the Baron, that he could write twenty Hands, and that if he had but three or four Hundred Pounds, he could swell them to fifty Thousand. It was proved also by his own Con- fession, that he had written over to his Correspondent in Holland, to know whether English Bank-notes went currently there or not ; upon which he was found guilty by a Party Jury, that singular Favour permit- ted to Foreigners by the equitable Lenity of the Law of England. Yet after this he could hardly be per- suaded that his Life was in any Danger ; nay, when he came into the condemned Hole, he told the un- happy Persons there, in as good English as he could speak, that he should not be hanged with them. For the first two or three Days therefore that he was under Sentence, he refused to look so much as on a Book, or to say a Prayer, employing that time with unwearied Diligence, in writing a Multitude of Letters to Merchants, foreign Ministers, and German Frederick Schmidt, a Forger. 227 Men of Quality, and such like, still holding fast his old Opinion, that his Life was not in the least in Danger ; and when a Lutheran Minister was so kind as to visit him, he would hardly condescend to come down to speak with him. But when he had received a Letter from him who had all along buoyed him up with hopes of Safety, in which he informed him that all those Hopes were in vain, he then began to apply himself with a real Concern to the Lutheran Minister, whom he had before almost re- jected ; but he did not appear terrified or much affrighted thereat. However, quickly after he fell into a Fit of Sickness, and became so very weak as not to be able to stand ; he confessed however, to the foreign Divine who attended him, that he was really guilty of that Crime for which he was to die, though it did not appear that he conceived it to be Capital at the time he did it, nor indeed was he easily con- vinced it was so, until within a few Days of his Execution. A Report prevailed about the Town, that he had done something of the like Nature at Paris, for which he had to fly, but that he denied, and seemed to think the Story derived its Birth from the Baron, who he said was an Apothecary's Son, and from his Acquaintance with his Father's Trade, knew the Secret of expunging Waters ; he added, that his Airs of Innocence were very unjust, he having been guilty of Abundance of such Tricks, and the Countess of many more than he. Thus, as is very common in such Cases, these unhappy People blackened one another ; but indeed the Baron and the Countess had the Advantage, since by their Testimony poor Schmidt was dispatched out of the Way ; and it is 2 28 The Life of probable their Credit at the Time of his Execution, was not in any great Danger of being hurt by his Character of them. When he came to Tyburn, being attended in the Cart by the Ltdheran Minister, whom I have so often mentioned, he was forced to be held up, being so weak as not to be able to stand alone. He joined with the Prayers at first, but could not carry on his Attention to the End ; looking about him, and staring at the other Prisoners with a Curiosity that perhaps was never before observed in any other Prisoner in his Condition whatsoever, neither his Looks nor his Behaviour seeming to express so much Terror as was struck into others by the Sight of his Condition. So after recommending it to the Minister by Letter to inform his aged Mother in Germany of his un- happy Fate, he requested the Executioner to put him to Death as easily as he could. He then submitted to his Fate, on the 4th of April, 1 724, being in the Forty-fifth Year of his Age. The Life of Peter Curtis, a House-breaker, &c. \ETER CURTIS, alias Friend, was born of honest but indigent Parents in the Country, at a very great Distance from London. They finding a Method to get him put Apprentice to a Ship-Carpenter, were very much pleased therewith, hoping that they had settled him in a Trade in which he might live well, and much beyond any thing they could have expected to hkve Peter Curtis, a Hotcsebreaker, &c, 229 done for him. But Peter himself was of a very different Opinion, who from the Hour he came to it greatly disliked his Profession, and though he went to Sea with his Master once or twice, yet he failed not to take hold of the first Opportunity to set himself at Liberty by running away from him. He from that time devoted himself to live a Life of Pleasure, having contracted an obstinate Aversion to Business, and to every thing which looked like Labour, though as he acknowledged the Hand of Providence hindered him from accomplishing his Wish, making this Life that he choose a greater Burthen and Hardship to him than that which he had relinquished. He found Means to get into Gentlemen's Services, and lived in them with tolerable Reputation and Credit for the space of several Years. At last he resolved to go to Sea again, but had so unconquerable an Aversion to his own Trade, that he chose rather going in the Capacity of a Trumpeter, having learnt how to play on that Instrument, atone of his Services. He sailed on board the Salisbury in the Expedition Sir George Byng made at the Straights of Messina, when he attacked and destroyed the Spanish Fleet. There Peter had the good Luck to escape without any Hurt, though there were many killed and wounded. He afterwards served in a Regiment of Dragoons, where by prudent Management he saved no less than fourscore Pounds ; with this he certainly had it in his Power to have put himself in some Way of doing well, but he omitted it, and falling into the Company of a lewd Woman, she persuaded him to take Lodgings with her, and they lived together for some space as Man and Wife. During this time, he 230 The Life of made a Shift to be bound for one of his Companions, for a very considerable Sum, which the other had the honesty to leave him to pay. The Creditor who upon Information that Ctirtis was packing up his Awls to go to Sea, resolved to secure him for his Debt, but not being able to catch him upon a Writ, pretended a felonious charge against him, and hav- ing thereupon got him committed to a Poultry Compter, as soon as th,e Justice had discharged him, he got him taken for Debt, and recommitted to the sarrie Place. Here he was soon reduced to a melan- choly Condition, having neither necessaries of Life, nor any Prospect of a Release. The wretched Company with which such Prisons are always full, corrupted him as to his Honesty, and taught him first to think of making himself rich by taking away the Property of others. When he came out of Prison, upon an Agreement with his Creditor, he soon after got into Service with Mr. Fluellen Aspley, a very eminent China-man, by Stocks Market. When he was there, the ill Woman whom he still conversed with, was continually dunning his Ears with how easy it was for him to make himself and her rich and easy, by pilfering from his Master, telling him that she and her Friends in the Country could help him off with a Thousand Pounds worth of China if need were, she baiting him continually not to loose such an Opportunity of enriching them ; but the Fellow himself was averse to such Practices, and nothing but her continual Teasing could have induced him ever to entertain a Design of so base a Nature. At last he condescended so far as to enquire how it might be done with safety. For that, replied the Woman, trust to my Management ; I'll put yon in the Peter Curtis, a Housebreaker, &c. 231 Way to carry off the most valuable Things in the House, and yet get a good Character, be trusted, and vahted by the Family for having robbed them. At that Curtis stared, and said. If she would put him in such a Road he did not know but he might comply with her Reqtiest. She thereupon opened the Scheme to him thus : Herds m.y Son, you shall lift him into the House, and after you have given him. Plate and what yozc think proper, and my Boy, who is a very dexterous Lad, is got off with them,, you. have nothing to do but to put an end of Candle tinder the Indian Cabinet in the Counting-house, and leave things to themselves ; the Neighbourhood will soon be alarmed by the Fire, and if yoic are apparently honest in what yoit take away publicly, there will be no suspicion upon you for what went before, which zvill be either thought to be destroyed in, the Fire, or to be taken away by some other Means. This appeared so shocking a Project to Curtis, that he absolutely refused to comply with the Burning, though with much ado he was brought to steal a large quantity of Plate, which he brought to this Woman, and she in attempting to sell it, was stopped and the Robbery discovered. ' However, there being no Evidence at first against Curtis, he was released from his Confinement on Suspicion, even by the Intercession of Mr. Aspley himseii, but a little Time discovering the Mistake, and that he was really the Principal in the Robbery, he was thereupon again apprehended, and at the next Sessions tried and convicted. While he lay und,er Sentence of Death, he behaved himself as if he had totally resigned all Thoughts of the World, or of continuing in it, praying with great Fervency and Devotion, making full and large Con- 232 The Life of fessions, and doing every Act which might induce Men to beHeve that he was a real Penitent, and sincerely sorry and affected for the Crime he had committed, But it seems this was all put on, for the true source of his Easiness and Resignation, was the Assurance he had in himself of escaping Death, either by Pardon or by an Escape, for which Purpose, he and those who were under Sentence with him, had provided all Necessaries, and loosened their Irons, and intended to have effected it at the Expense of the Lives of their Keepers. But their Design being discovered the Saturday before their Deaths, and Curtis perceiv- ing that his hopes of Pardon were as ill founded, began to apply himself to Repenting in earnest ; but as there was very little Time left for so great a Work, especially considering that nothing but the Necessity of the Thing inclined him thereto, and that he had spent that Respite allowed him by the Clemency of the Law to prepare for Death, in contriving to fly from Justice at the Expense of the Blood of others. How he performed this it is impossible for us to know, and must be left to be decided by the great Judge to whom the Secrets of all Hearts are open. However, at his Death he appeared tolerably composed and cheerful, and turning to the People, said, you see they who contrived to burn the House and the People in it escaped, but T who never consented to any such thing, die as you see. Some Discourse there was of his having buried a Portmanteau, and Fourteen Hundred Pounds ; he was spoken to about it, and did not deny he had it ; he said, he had it upon Finchley Common, and that by the Arms, which was the spread Eagle, he took to be an Ambassador's. As to the Diamond Ring he had been seen to wear, he did not affirm he Peter Curtis, a Housebreaker, &c. 233 came very honestly by it, but would not give any direct Answer concerning it, and seemed uneasy that he should have such Questions put to him at the very Point of Death. He suffered the 1 5th of June, 1 724, about thirty Years of Age. The Life of Lumley Davis, a Highwayman. [UCH is the frailty of human Nature, that neither the best Examples, nor the most liberal Education, can warrant an honest Life, or secure to the most careful Parents, the certainty of their Children not becoming a Disgrace to them, either in their Lives or by their Deaths. This Malefactor, of whom the Course of our Memoirs now obliges us to make mention, was the Son of a Man of the same Name, viz : Lumley Davis, who was it seems in Circumstances good enough to procure his Son being brought up in one of the best Schools in England, where his Proficiency procured him an Election upon the Establishment, and he became respected as a Person whose Parts would do honour even to that remarkable Seminary of Learning where he had been bred; but unaccountably , growing fond all on a sudden of going to some Trade or Employ- ment, and absolutely refusing to continue any longer at his Studies, his Friends were obliged to comply with the Ardency of his Request, and accordingly put him Apprentice to an eminent Vintner at the One- Tun- Tavern in the Strand. He continued there but a little while, before he was as much dissatisfied 2 34 The Life of with that as he had been with Learning ; so that leaving his Master, and leading an unsettled Kind of Life, he fell into great Debts, which, being unable to satisfy when demanded, he was arrested and thrown into the Marshalsea. Here for some time he con- tinued in a very deplorable Condition, till by the Charitable assistance of a Friend, his Debt was Paid, and the Fees of the Prison discharged. After this he went into the Mint, where drinking accidently at one of the Tap-houses in that infamous Place, and being very much out of Humour with the low and profligate Company he was obliged to converse with there, he took notice of a very genteel Man, who sat at the table by himself He enquired of some of the Persons with whom he was Drinking who that Man was ? They answered, that they could not tell themselves ; he was lately come over for Shelter amongst them, he was a Gentleman, as Folks said, of much Learning ; and though he never con- versed with anybody, yet was kind enough to afford them his Assistance, either with his Pen, or by his Advice when they asked it. Davis on this Character, was very industrious to become his Acquaintance, and Harman, which was the other Man's Name, not having been able to meet with anybody there, with whom he could converse, readily embraced the Society of Davis, with whom comparing Notes, and finding their Case to be pretty much the same, they often condoled one another's Misfortunes, and as often projected between themselves how to gain some supply, without depending continually upon the Charity of their Friends. In the Meantime, Davis was so unfortunate as to fall ill of a languishing Distemper, which brought him so low as to oblige LuMLEY Davis, a Highzvayman, &c. 235 him to apply for Relief to that Friend who had dis- charged him out of the Marshalsea. He was so good as to get him in St. Thomas s Hospital, and to supply him while there with whatever was necessary for his support. When he was so far recovered as to be able to go abroad, this kind and good Friend provided for him a Country habitation, where he might be able to live in Privacy and Comfort, and indulge himself in those Inclinations, which he began again ,to shew towards Learning. Some short time after he had been there, not being able to support longer that quiet kind of Life which before he did so earnestly desire, notwithstanding the entreaties of his Friends, he came up to London again, where falling into idle Company, he became addicted to those .Vices of Drinking and following ill ■ Women, things which before he had both detested and avoided. Not long after this, he again found out Mr. Harman, and renewed his Acquaintance with him. He enquired into his past Adventures, and how he had supported himself since they last had been together, and perceiving that they were far from being on the mending Hand with him, the fatal Proposal was at last made of going upon the Road, and there robbing such Persons as might seem best able to spare it, and at the same time furnish them with the largest Booty. The first Person they attacked was one John Nichols, Esq., from whom they took a Guinea and seventeen Shillings, with which they determined to make them- selves easy a little, and not go that Week again upon •such hazardous Exploits. But alas! their Resolu- tions had little Success, for that very Evening they were both apprehended, and on full Evidence at the next Sessions were convicted and received Sentence 236 The Life of of Death, within a very short Time after they had committed the Crime. He all along flattered himself with the hopes of a Pardon or a Reprieve, and therefore was not perhaps so serious as he ought to have been, and as he would otherwise have been, not that those hopes made him either Licentious or Turbulent, but rather disturbed his Meditations, and hindered his getting over the Terrors which Death always brings to the unprepared. But when on his Name being in the Death Warrant, he found there was no longer any Hope, he then indeed applied himself without losing a Moment to the great concern of saving his Soul, now there was no hope of preserving his Body. However, neither his Education nor all the Assistance he could receive from those Divines that visited him, could bring him to bear the Approach of Death with any tolerable Patience. Even at the Place of Execution he en- deavoured as much as he could to linger away the Time, spoke to the Ordinary to spin out the Prayers, and to the Executioner to forbear doing his Ofifice as long as it was possible. However he spoke with great Kindness and Affection to his Companion, Mr. Harman, shook Hands with those who were his Companions in Death, and at last submitted to his Fate, being then about the 23rd year of his Age. James Harman, a Highzvayman. 237 ^^R^ The Life of James Harman, a Highwayman. \AMES HARMAN was the Son of a Merchant in the City of London, who took Care to furnish this his Son with such an Education as enabled him when about fourteen Years of Age, to be removed to the University. His Behaviour there, was Hke that of too many others, spent in Divertisements instead of Study, and in a progression of Vice, instead of im- proving in Learning. After having been thereabout three Years, and having run into such Debts as he saw no probabihty of Discharging, he was forced to leave it abruptly ; and his Father, much grieved at this Behaviour, bought him an Ensign's Commission in the Army, where he continued in f ones' s Regiment till it was disbanded. Then indeed being forced to live as he could, and the Assistance of Friends though large, yet no ways suited to his Expences, he became so plunged in Debt and other Misfortunes, that he was in necessity of going over to the Mint, where reflecting on his own Follies, he became very reserved and melancholy, and would probably have quite altered his Course of Life, if Opportunity had offered, or if he had not fallen into that Company, which, by a Similarity of Manners, induced him to fall into the Commission of such Crimes as would not probably otherwise have entered his Head. The Fact which he and the before mentioned Davis com- mitted, was their first and last Attempt ; but Mr. 238 The Life of Harman, all the Time he lay under Sentence without suffering himself to be amused by Expectations of Success from those Endeavours, which he knew his Friends used to save his Life, accustomed himself to the thoughts of Death, performing all the Duties requisite from a Person in his Condition, for atoning the Evils of a misspent Life, and making his Peace with that Being, from whom he had received so great a Capacity of doing well, and which he had so much abused. Having spent the whole time of his Confinement after this Manner, he did not appear in any degree Shocked or Confounded, when his Name being in the Death Warrant, left him no room to doubt of what must be his Fate. At the Place of Execution, he appeared not only easy and serene, but with an Air of Satisfaction that could arise only from the Peace he enjoyed within. Being asked if he had anything to say to the People, he rose up, and turning towards them said, I hope yovc will make that ttse of my being exposed to you as a Spectacle which the Law intends, and by the sight of m,y Death avoid such Acts, as may bring you hither with the same Justice as they do m,e. He suffered about the 25th year of his Age, the 28th oi August, 1724, at Tyburn. John Lewis, a Private Thief ^ &c. 239. The Life of John Lewis, alias Laurence, a Private Thief, Highwayman, &c. |NE great Cause of that Degeneracy we observe amongst the lower Part of the human Species, arises from a Mistake which has generally prevailed in the Education of young People throughout all Ages. Parents are sometimes assiduous that their Children should read well, and write a good Hand, but they are seldom solicitous about their making a due Use of their Reason, and hardly ever enquire into the Opinions which while Children they entertain of Happiness or Misery ; and the Paths which lead to either of them, the true and natural intent of all Education whatso- ever, which can never tend to anything but teaching Persons how to live easily, and seciucing their Affec- tions to the Bounds prescribed them, by the Law of God and their Country. John Lewis alias Laurence, had Parents who bred him an Apprentice to a Biitcher. He took up his Freedom in the City, and worked for a considerable Space as a Journeyman. For his Honesty we have no Vouchers for any part of that Time ; for in his Apprenticeship he fell into the Use of profligate Company, who taught him all those Vices which were destructive to his future Life ; he grew fond of every thing which looked like Lewdness and Debauchery, drank hard, was continually idling about, but above all, with Strumpets the most abandoned, both in 240 The Life of their Manners and Discourse; these were the ultimate End of his Wishes, inasmuch as he would often say, he had nothing to answer for in debauching modest Women, for they were a set of Creatures he could never so much as endure to converse with. His usual method of living with his Mistresses was thus : as soon as the Impudence and Lewdness of a Woman had made her infamous, even amongst the Hackney Coachmen, Pick-pockets, Foot-pads, and such others of his polite Acquaintance, then Lewis thought her a fit Person for his Turn, and used to live with them, for the Space perhaps of a Month ; then growing tired of them, he went to look for another. This Practice of his grew at last so well known, that he found it a little difficult to get Women who would take up with him upon his Terms ; but there was one Moll Davis who for her Dexterity in picking of Pockets amongst those of her own Tribe, went by the Name of Diver. This Woman was so great a Scandal to her Sex, that the most abandoned of that low Crew with whom he conversed, hated and despised her. With her Lewis went to live after his usual manner, and was very fond of her after his way for about a Fortnight. At the End of which he grew fractious, and in about nine Weeks time more beat her. Moll wept and took on at a sad Rate, for his Unkindness, and told him that if he would Promise faithfully never to live with any other Woman, she would fairly Present him with a couple of Hundred Pounds, which she had lodged in the Hands of an Uncle, who knew nothing of her Way of Life, but lived reputably at such a Place. This was the right Way of touching ' Z^wzVj- Temper ; he began to put on as many good Looks as his Face John Lewis, a Private Thief, &c. 241 was capable of wearing, and made use of as many kind Expressions, as he could remember out of the Academy of Compliments, until the Day came that she was to meet her Uncle at Smithfield Market. They went then very lovingly together to an Inn upon the paved Stones, where Moll asked very readily at the Bar if Mr. Tompkins, which was the Name of her Uncle, was there. The Woman of the House made her a low Courtesy, and said, he was only stepped over the Way to be shaved, and she would call him,; she went accordingly, and brought the grave old Man, who as soon as he came into the Room, said, well Mary, is this thy Husband ? Yes Sir, answered she, this is the Person I promised to bring you ; upon which the old Man thrust out his Hand, and said, come Friend, as you have m-arried m,y Niece, you and I must be better acqiiainted. Lewis scraped him as good a Bow as he could, and giving his Hand in Return, the old Fellow laid hold on him somewhat above the Wrist, stamped with his Right-Foot, and then closing with him got him down ; in the mean while half a Dozen Fellows broke into the Room, and one of them seizing him by the Arms, another pulled out a small Twine, and bound him, then shoving him down Stairs, they had no sooner got into Sm,ithfield, than the Mob cried out, here's the Rogue, heres the Dog, that held a Penknife to the old Grazier s Throat, while a Woman and another Man robbed him.. It seems the Story was true of Moll, who by thus taking and then swearing it upon Lewis, who had never so much as heard of it, escaped with Impunity, and besides that got five Guineas for her Pains from the old Man's Brother, who upon this Occasion played the Part of her Uncle. If the Grazier had been a 242 The Life of warm rash Man, Lciuis had certainly hanged for the Fact, but he looking hard upon him at his Trial, told the Court, he was sure that was not the Man ; for though his Eyes were not very good, he could easily distinguish his Voice ; and added, that the Man who robbed him was taller than himself, whereas Lewis was much shorter ; by which means he had the good Luck to come off, though not without lying two Sessions in Newgate. As soon as he came abroad, he threatened Moll Davis hard for what she had done, and swore as soon as he could find her to cut her Ears off; but she made light of that, and dared him to come and look for her at the Brandy Shop where she frequented. Lewis hearing that, resolved to go thither and beat her, and knowing the usual time of her coming thither to be about Eleven o'clock at Night, he chose that time to come also. But Moll, the Day before, had made one of her Crew who had turned Evidence, put him into his Information, and the Constables and their Assistants being ready planted, they seized him directly, and carried him to his old lodgings in Newgate. He was acquitted upon this the next Sessions, there being no Evidence against him but the Informer ; but the Court ordered him to find Security for his good Behaviour ; that proved two Months' Work, so that in all it was a Quarter of a Year before he got out of Newgate for the second time. Hearing Davis had picked a Gentleman's Pocket of a considerable Sum, and kept out of the Way upon it, he resolved to be even with her for the Trouble she had cost him, and for that Purpose hunted through all her old Places of Resort, in order to find out how to have her apprehended. Moll hearing of it, got her Sister John Lewis, a Private Thief, &c. 243 who followed the same Trade with herself, to way- lay him at the Brandy Shop in Fleet-street ; there Susan was very sweet upon him, and being as impu- dent as her Sister, Lewis resolved to take up with her, at least for a Night ; but she pretended Reasons why he could not go home with her, and he com- plaining that he did not know where to get a Lodging, she gave him half a Crown and a large Silver Medal, .which she said would pawn for five Shillings, and appointed to meet him the next Night at the same Place. Lewis in the Morning goes to a Pawn-Broker aX Houndsditch with the Silver Piece: the Broker said, he would take it into the next Room and weigh it, and in about ten Minutes returned with a Constable and two Assistants, the Medal having been advertised in the Papers as taken with Eleven Guineas in a Green Purse out of a Gentleman's Pocket, and was the very Robbery for which Moll Davis kept out of the Way. When he got over this, he went down into the Country, and having been so often in Prison for nought, he resolved to merit it now for something ; so on the Gravesend Road he went upon the High- way ; and having been as I told you bred up a BiUcher, the Weapon he made use of to rob with was his Knife ; and the first Robbery he attempted was upon an old Officer, who was retired into that Part of the Country to live quiet. Lewis bolted out upon him from behind the Corner of a Hedge, and clap- ping a sharp pointed Knife to his Breast, and with a Volley of Oaths commanded him to deliver. This was new Language to the Gentleman to whom it was offered ; yet seeing how great an Advantage the Villain had of him, he thought it the most prudent Method to comply, and gave him therefore a few 244 The Life of Shillings which were in his Coat- Pocket. Lewis very highly resented this, and told him he did not use him like a Gentleman, that he would search him himself ; in order to which, clapping his Knife into his Mouth as he used to do when preparing a Sheep for the Shambles, he fell to ransacking the Gentleman's Pockets. He had hardly got his Hand into one of them, but the Gentleman snatched the Knife out of his Mouth, and in the Wrench had almost broke his Jaw. Lewis hereupon took to his Heels, but the Country being raised upon him he was apprehended, just as he was going to take Water at Gravesend ; but his Pride in refusing the Gentleman's Silver, happened very lucky for him here ; for on his Trial at the next Assizes, the Indictment being laid for a Robbery, the Jury acquitted him, and he was once more put into a Road of doing well, which according to his usual Method he made to lead towards the Gallows. The first Week he was out, he broke open a Plouse in Ratcliffe- Highway, from whence he took but a small Quantity of Things, and those of small Value, because there happened to be nothing better in the Way. In a few Days after this, he snatched off a Woman's Pocket in the open Street, for which Fact, being immediately apprehended ; he was at the next Sessions at the Old-Bailey, tried and convicted, but by the Favour of the Court ordered for Trans- portation. A Woman, whom at this Time he called his Wife, happened to be under the like Sentence at the same Time ; they went therefore together, and were each of them of such turbulent Dispositions, that the Captain of the Transport thought fit to pro- mise them in the most solemn Manner their Liberty as soon as they came on Shore in Carolina, provided John Lewis, a Private Thief, &c. 245 they would be but quiet. To this they agreed, and they kept their Word so well that the Captain per- formed his Promise, and released them at their Arrival in Sotttk-Carolina ; upon which they made no long Stay there, but found a Method to come back in the same Ship ; and upon Arrival in England they were actually Married. But they did not live long together. Lewis finding that she conversed with other Men, and being in Fear, least in Hopes of Favour, she should discover his return from Trans- portation, and by convicting him save herself, upon these apprehensions, he thought fit to go again to Sea, in a Ship bound for the Straights, but falling violently Sick at Genoa, they left him there ; and though he might afterwards have gone to his Vessel, his old Thoughts and Wishes returned, and he took the Advantage of the first Ship to return to England. Here he found many of his old Acquaintance, carry- ing on the Business of Plunder in every Shape. He joined with them, and in their Company broke open with much Difficulty, an Ale-house in Fore-street, at the Sign of the King of Hearts, where they took a Dozen of Tankards, which they apprehended to be . Silver ; but finding upon Examination, they were no better than Pewter well Scoured, they judged there would be more Danger in selling them than they were worth ; wherefore having first melted them, they threw them away ; but being a little fearful of robbing in Company, he took to his old method of robbing by himself in the Streets. But the first attempt he made this Way, was in the Old Artillery- Ground, where he snatched a Womanr's Pocket, and she crying out raised the Neighbourhood ; they pur- sued him, and after wounding two or three Persons 246 The History of desperately, he was taken and committed to his old Mansion in Newgate, and at the next Sessions being Tried, was found Guilty, and from that time could enjoy not the least hopes of Life. But he continued still very obdurate, being so hardened by a continual series of villanous Actions, that he seemed to have no Idea whatsoever of Religion, Penitence or atoning by Prayers, for the numerous Villanies he had com- mitted. At the Place of Execution he said nothing to the People, only that he was so;;ry he had not stayed in Carolina, because if he had, he should never have come to be hanged ; and thus finished his Life in the same stupid manner in which he had lived, being- near forty years of Age at the time he suffered, which was on the 27th of ytme, 1720. The History of t/ieW2l\h?Lm V>\3Lck.5, and their Trans- actions, to the Death of Richard Parvin, Edward Elliot, Robert Kingshell, Henry Marshall, John Pink and Edward Pink, (X^^f James Ansell, alias Phillips, at Tyburn, whose Lives are also included. fUCH is the unaccountable Folly which Reigns in too great a Part of the human Species, that by their own ill Deeds they make such Laws necessary for the Security of Men's Persons and Properties, as by their Severity, unless necessity compelled them, would appear cruel and inhuman ; and doubdess, those Laws which we The Waltham Blacks. 247 esteem barbarous in other Nations, and even some which appear so though anciently practised in our own, had their rise from the same Cause. I am led to this Observation, from the Folly which certain Persons were guilty of, in making small Insurrections for the Sake only of getting a few Deer ; and going on, because they found the Lenity of the Laws could not Punish them at present, until they grew to that Height as to ride in armed Troops, blacked and dis- guised, in order the more to terrify those whom they assaulted, and wherever they were denied what they thought proper to demand, whether Venison, Wine, Money, or other Necessaries for their debauched Feasts, would by Letters threaten plundering and destroying with Fire and Sword, whomever they thought proper. These Villanies being carried on with a high Hand for some time, in the Year 1722 and 1723, their Insolence grew at last so intolerable, as to oblige the Legislature to make a new Law against all who thus went armed and disguised, and associated themselves together by the Name of Blacks, or entered into any other Confederacies to support and assist one another in doing Injury and Violence to the Persons and Properties of the Kings Subjects. By this Law it was enacted, that afte7' the first Day of June, 1723, whatever Persons armed with offensive Weapons, and having their Faces Blacked, or otherwise Disguised, shozdd appear in any Forest, Park or Grounds enclosed with any Wall or Fence, wherein Deer were kept, or any Warren where Hares or Conies are kept, or in any Highway, Heath, or Down, or tmlawfully hitnt, kill, or steal any Red or Fallow Deer, or Rob any Warren, or steal Fish 248 The History of out of any Pond, or 7naliciously break down the Head of any Fishpond, or kill or wotind Cattle, or set fire to any House or Outhouses, Stack, &c., or cut down or any otherways destroy Trees planted for Shelter or Profit, or shall maliciously Shoot at any Person, or send a Letter demanding Money or other valuable Things, shall rescue any Person in Custody of afi Officer for any such Offences, or by Gift or Promise procure any o?ie to join with them, shall be deemed guilty of Felony without Benefit of Clergy, and shall suffer pains of Death as Felons so convicted. Nor was even this thought sufficient to remedy those Evils which the idle Follies of some rash Persons had brought about, but a Retrospect was also by the same Act had to offences heretofore com- mitted, and all Persons who had committed any Crimes punishable by this Act, after the Second of February, 1722, were commanded to render Them- selves before the 24th of July, 1723, to some Justice of his Majesty s Court of Kings-Bench, or to some Justice of the Peace for the County where they lived, and there make a full and exact Confession of the Crimes of such a Nature which they had committed, the Times when, and the Places where, and Persons with whom, together with an Account of such Per- sons' places of Abode, as had with them been guilty as aforesaid, in order to their being thereupon appre- hended and brought to Judgment according to Law, on Pain of being deemed Felons, without Benefit of Clergy, and suffering accordingly. But they were entitled to a free Pardon and Forgiveness, in case that before the 24th of J^uly they surrendered and made such Discovery. Justices of the Peace by the said Act were required on any Information being The Waltham Blacks. 249 made before them, by one or more credible Persons, against any Person charged with any of the Offences aforesaid, to transmit it under their Hands and Seals, to one of his Majesty s principal Secretaries of State, who by the same Act is required to lay such Infor- mation and Return before his Majesty in Council, whereupon an Order is to issue for the Persons so charged, to surrender within forty Days, and in case he refuse or neglect to surrender within that Time, then from the Da:y in which the forty Days elapsed, he is to be deeined a Felon Convict, and Execution may be awarded as attainted of Felony by a Verdict. Every Pet:»(5n also, who after the time appointed for the Surrender of the Person, shall conceal, aid, or succour him, knowing the Circumstances in which he then stands, shall suffer Death as a Felon, without Benefit of Clergy. And that People might the more readily hazard their Persons for the apprehending such Offenders, it is likewise enacted, that if any Person shall be wounded so as to lose an Eye, or the use of any Limb in endeavouring to take persons charged with the Commission of Crimes within this Law, then on a' Certificate from the Justices of the Peace, of his being so wounded, the Sheriff of the County is commanded within Thirty Days after the sight of such Certificate, to pay the said wounded Persons ^50 under pain of forfeiting ^10 on failure thereof ; and in case any Person should be killed in seizing such Persons as aforesaid, then the said ^50 is to be paid to the Executors of the Person so killed. It cannot seem strange, that in Consequence of so extraordinary an Act of the Legislature, many of these presumptuous and silly People should be appre- hended a considerable Number of them, having upon 250 The History of their Apprehension been committed to Winchester Gaol, seven of them were hy Hadeas Corpus removed for the greater Solemnity of their Trial to Newgate, and for their Offences brought up and arraigned at the Kings Bench-Bar, Westminster, where being con- victed on full Evidence, all of them of Felony, and three of Murder, I shall inform ye, one by one, of what has come to my Hand in Relation to their Crimes, and the Manner and Circumstances with which they were Committed. Richai^d Paj'vin was Master of a Public-house at Portsmouth, a. Man of a dull and phlegmatic Dis- position, who continually denied his having been in any manner concerned with these People, though the Evidence against him at his Trial was as full and as direct as possibly could have been expected, and he himself evidently proved to have been upon the Spot when the Violences committed by the other Prisoners were transacted. In Answer to this, he said, that he was not with them, though indeed he was zcpon the Foi^est, for which he gave this Reason : he had, he said, a very handsome young Wench who lived with him, and for that Reason was admired by many of his Customers. She took it in her Head one Day to run away ; he hearing that She had fled across the Forest, pursued her, and in that Pursuit, calling at the House of Mr. Parford, who keeps an Ale-house on the Forest, this Man being an Evi- dence against the other Blacks, took him it seems into the Number, though as he said, he could fully have cleared himself, if he had had any Money to have sent for Witnesses out of Berkshire ; but the Mayor of Portsmotith seizing (as soon as he was apprehended) on all his Goods, put his Family into The Waltham Blacks. 251 great Distress, and whether he could have found them or no, hindered his being able to produce any Witnesses at his Trial. He persevered in these Professions of his Innocency to the very last, still hoping for a Reprieve, and not only fed himself with such Expectations while in Prison, but also gazed earnestly when at the Tree, in hopes that a Pardon would be brought him, until the Cart drew away, and extinguished Life, and the desire of Life, to- gether. Edward Elliot, a Boy about seventeen Years of Age, whose Father was a Tailor, at a Village be- tween Petsworth and Gtnlford, was the next who received Sentence of Death with Parvin. The Account he gave of his coming into this Society has something in it very odd, and which gives a fuller Idea of the strange whims which possessed these People. The Boy said that about a Year before his being apprehended, thirty or forty Men met him in the County of Stirrey, and hurried him away, he who appeared to be the chief telling him that he enlisted him for the Service of the King of the Blacks, in pursuance of which he was to disguise his Face, obey Orders of whatsoever Kind they were, such as breaking down Fish-Ponds, burning Woods, shooting Deer, taking also an Oath to be true to them, or they by^ their ^r/ Magic would turn him into a Beast, and as such would make him carry their Burthens, and live like a horse upon Grass and Water. And he said also, that in the Space of Time he continued with them, he saw several Experiments of their Witchcraft ; for that once when two Men had offended them, by refusing to comply in taking their Oath and obeying their Orders, they caused 252 The History of them immediately to be Blind-folded, and stopping them in Holes of the Earth up to their Chin, ran at them as if they had been Dogs, bellowing and bark- ing as it were in their Ears, and when they had plagued them awhile in this ridiculous manner, took them out, and bid them remember how they offended any of the Black Nation again, for if they did, they should not escape so well as they had at present. He had seen them also, he said, oblige Carters to drive a good way out of the Road, and carry what- soever Vetiison or other Thing they had plundered to the Places where they would have them, that the Men were generally so frightened with their Usage, and so terrified with the Oaths they were obliged to swear, that they seldom complained, or even spoke of their Bondage. As to the Fact for which they died, Elliot gave this Account : That in the Morning when that Fact zoas committed for which he died, Marshall, Kingshell, andfonr others, came to him a7td persuaded him to go to Farnham-Holt, and that he need not fear disobliging afiy Gentle7nan in the Country, some of whom were very kind to this Elliot: they persiiaded him that certain Persons of Fortune were concerned with them, and would bear him harmless if he would go. He owned that at last he consented to go with them, but trembled all the Way, insomiuh that he could hardly reach the Holt. While they were engaged in the Business for which they came, viz. , killing the Deer, the Keepers came upon them. Elliot had wandered a considerable distance from his Companions after a Fawn, zvhich he intended to send as a present to a youno- Woman at Guilford ; him therefore they quickly seized and bound, and leaving him in that Condition, The Waltham Blacks. 253 went in search of the Rest of his Associates. It was not long before they came up with them. The Keepers were Six, the Blacks were Seven in num,ber ; they fell warmly to it with Quarter-Staffs. The keepers itn- willing to have Lives taken, advised them, to retire ; but upon their refusing, and yiz.r:s]\3l\'s ftri7tg a gun, by which one of the keepers belonging to the Lady How was slain, they discharged a Blunderbuss, and shat- tered the Thigh of one Barber amongst the Blacks, upon which three of his Associates ran away, and the two others, Marshall and Kingshell, were taken, and so the fray for the present ended. Elliot lay bozmd all the while within hearing, and in the greatest Agonies imaginable, at the Consideration that what- ever blood was spilt he shoiUd be as m,zuh answerable for it as those who shed it, in which he was not mis- taken ; for the Keepers retti.rning after the Fight was over, carried him- away boicnd, and he never had his Fetters off after, till the Morning of his Execution. He behaved himself very soberly, quietly, and with much seeming Penitence and Contrition. He owned the Justice of the Law in punishing him, and said, he more especially deserved to sziffer, since at the Time pf the committing this Fact, he was Servant to a Widow Lady, where he wanted nothing to make him . happy or easy. Robert Kingshell, was twenty-six Years old, and lived in the same House with his Parents, being Ap- prentice to his Brother, a Shoe-maker. His parents were very watchful over his Behaviour, and sought by every Method to prevent his taking ill Courses, or being guilty of any Debauchery whatever. The Night before this -unhappy Accident fell out, as he and the Rest of the Family were sleeping in their 2 54 The History of Beds, Barber made a Signal at his Chamber Window, it being then about eleven o' Clock. Ki7tgsJiell upon this arose, and got softly out of the window. Barber took him upon his Horse, and away they went to the Holt, twelve Miles distant, calling in their Way upon Henry Marshall, Elliot, and the rest of their Ac- complices. He said it was eight o'Clock in the Morning before the Keepers attacked them. He owned they bid them retire, and that he himself told them they would, provided the bound Man (Elliot) was released, and delivered into our hands ; but that Proposition being refused, the Fight presently grew warm. Barber s Thigh was broke, and Marshall killed the Keeper with a shot. Being thereupon very hard pressed, three of their Companions ran away, leaving him and Marshall to fight it out, Elliot being already taken, and Barber disabled. 1 1 was not long before they were in the same unhappy Con- dition with their Companions. From the Time of their being apprehended, Kingshell laid aside all hopes of Life, and applied himself with great Fer- vency and Devotion, to enable him in what alone remained for him to do, viz., dying decently. Henry Marshall, about thirty-six Years of Age, the unfortunate Person by whose Hand the Murder was committed, seemed to be the least sensible of the Evils he had done, although such was the Pleasure of Almighty God, that till the Day before his Ex- ecution, he neither had his Senses nor the use of his Speech. When he recovered it, and a Clergyman represented to him the horrid Crime of which he had been guilty, he was so far from shewing any deep Sense of that Crime of shedding innocent Blood, that he made light of it, said sii,re he might stand The Wa'ltham Bt.acks. 255 ti,pon his own Defence, and was not bound to run away and leave his Companions in Danger. This was the Language he talked for the Space of twenty- four Hours before his Death, in, which he enjoyed the Use of Speech, and so far was he from thanking those who charitably offered him their Admonitions, that he said, he had not forgot himself, but had already taken Care of what he thought necessary for his Soul. However, he did not attempt in the least to prevaricate, but fairly acknowledged that he com- mitted the Fact for which he died, though nothing could oblige him to speak of it in any Manner as if he. was sorry for, or repented of it, farther than for having occasioned his own Misfortunes. So strong is the Prejudice which vulgar Minds acquire by often repeating to themselves and in Company certain Positions, however ridiculous and false, and sure nothing could be more so, than for a Man to fancy he had a right to imbrue his Hands in the Blood of another, who was in the execution of his Office, and endeavouring to hinder them in the Commission of an illegal Act. These of whom I have last spoken, were altogether concerned in the before-mentioned Fact, which was attended with Murder. But we are now to speak of the Rest who were concerned in the felony only, for which they, with the above-mentioned Parvin, suf- fered. Of these there were two Brothers, whose Names were yohn and Edward Pink, Carters in Portsmouth, and always accounted honest and in- dustrious fellows, before this Accident happened. They did not however deny their being guilty, but on the Contrary ingenuously confessed the Truth of what was Sworn, and mentioned some other Circum- 256 The History of stances than those produced at the Trial which at- tended their committing it. They said that they met Parviiis House- Keeper upon tlie Road ; that they forced her to cut the Throat of a Deer which they had just taken upon Bear Forest, gave her a Dagger which they forced her to wear, and to ride cross legged with Pistols before her. In this Dress they brought her to Parford's House upon the Forest, where they dined upon a Haunch of Venison, feasted merrily, and after Dinner sent out two of their Companions to kill more Deer, not in the Kings Forest, but in Waltham Chase, belonging to the Bishop of Winchester. One of these two Persons they called their King, and the other they called Lyon. Neither of these Brothers objected anything, either to the Truth of the Evidence, or the Justice of the Sentence passed upon them, only one in- sinuating that the Evidence would not have been so strong against him and Ansell, if it had not been for running away with the Witness's Wife, which so provoked him that they were sure they should not Escape when he was admitted a Witness. These like the rest were hard to be persuaded that the Things they had committed were any Crimes in the Eyes of God ; said, Deer were wild Beasts, and they did not see why the Poor had not as good a Right to them as the Rich. However, as the Law condemned them to suffer, they were bound to sub- mit, and in Consequence of that Notion, behaved themselves very orderly, decently, and quietly, while under Sentence. James Ansell, alias Stephen Phillips, the seventh and last of these unhappy Persons, was a Man ad- dicted to a worse and more profligate Life than any The Waltham Blacks. 257 of the rest had ever been ; for he had held no settled Employment, but had been a loose disorderly Person, concerned in all sorts of Wickedness for many Years, both at Portsmouth, Guilford, and other Country Towns, as well as in London. Deer were not the only things that he had dealt in ; stealing, and robbing on the Highway had been formerly his Employment; and in becoming a Black, did not, as the others, ascend in Wickedness, but came down on the con- trary a step Lower. Yet this Criminal, as his Offences were greater, so his Sense of them was much stronger than in any of the Rest, excepting Kingshell, for he gave over all Manner of Hopes of Life and all Concerns about it as soon as he was taken. Yet even he had no Notion of Making Dis- coveries, unless they might be beneficial to himself, and though he owned the Knowledge of Twenty Persons who were notorious Offenders in the same Kind, he absolutely refused to name them, since ■ such naming would not procure himself a Pardon. Talking to him of the Duty of doing Justice was beating the Air ; he said, he thought there was no Justice in taking away other People's Lives, unless it was to save his own. Yet no' sooner was he taxed about his own going on the Highway than he confessed it, said, he knew very well Bills would have been preferred against him at Guilford Assizes, in Case he had got off at the King s-Bench, but that he did not greatly value them ; though formerly he had been guilty of some Facts in that way, yet they could not all now be proved, and he should have found it no difficult matter to have demonstrated his Innocency of those then charged upon him, of which he was not really Guilty, but owed his being thought s 258 The History of so to a profligate Course of Life he had for some Time led, and his Aversion to all honest Employ- ments. As bold as the whole Gang of these Fellows appeared, yet what with Sickness, what with the Apprehension of Death, they were so terrified, that not one of them but Ansell alias Philips, was able to stand up, or speak at the Place of Execution, many who saw them there, affirming, that some of them were dead even before they were turned off. As an Appendix to the melancholy History of these seven miserable and unhappy Persons, I will add a Letter written at that Time by a Gentleman of the County of Essex, to his Friend in London, containing a more particular Account of the Transactions of these People, than I have seen anywhere else, wherefore without any further Preface, I shall leave it to speak for itself A Letter to Mr. C. D. in London. Dear Sir, '''■Amongst the odd Accidents which you know have happened to me in the course of a very unsettled Life, I dont know any which hath been m,ore extraordinary or surprizing, than one I m.et with in going down to my own House, when I left you, last in Town. You cannot but have heard of the Waltham Blacks, as they are called, a Set of whimsical m,erry Fellows, that are so mad to run the greatest Hazards for the Sake of a Haunch of Venison, and passing a jolly Evening together. For my part, though the Stories told of these People have reached my Ears, yet I confess I took most of them, for Fables, and thought that if there was Truth The Waltham Blacks. 259 in any of them it was imuh exaggerated ; but Expe- rience {the Mistress of Fools) has taught me the Con- trary, by the Adventure I am going to relate to you, , which though it ended well enough at last, I confess at first put m-e a good deal out of Humour. To begin, then, my Horse got a Stone in his Foot, and therewith went so lame fust as I entered the Forest, that I really : thought his Shoulder slipped ; finding it, however, im- possible to get him along, I was even glad to take up at a little blind A le-Hotise, which I perceived had a Yard and Stable behind it. The Man of the House received me very civilly, but when he perceived Tny Horse was so lame as scarce to be able to stir a Step, I observed he grew uneasy. I asked him whether I could lodge there that Night ; he told me no, he had no Room. I desired him then to put something to my Horses Foot, and let me sit up all Night, for I was resolved not to spoil a Horse which cost me twenty Guineas, by riding him in such a Condition in which he was at present. The Man made me no Answer. However we came into the House together, and I proposed the same Ques- tions to the Wife. She dealt m,ore roughly and more freely with me, and told me that truly F neither could nor should stay there, and was for hurrying her Hus- band to get my Horse out. However, on putting a Crown into her Hand, and promising her another for my Lodging, she began to consider a little, and at last told m.e that there was indeed a little Bed above Stairs, . on which she would order a clean Pair of Sheets to be put, for she was persuaded I was more of a Gentleman than to take any Notice of what I saw pass there. , This made me more uneasy than I was before ; I con- cluded now I was got amongst a Den of Highwaym-en, and expected nothing less than to be robbed and Tny 26o The History of Throat cut. However, finding there was no Remedy, I even set myself down and endeavoured to be as easy as I could. By this Time it was very dark, and I heard three or four Horse-men alight and lead their Horses into the Yard. As the Men returned and were coming into the Room where I was, I overheard my Landlady say, Indeed Brother you need not be uneasy, I am positive the Gentleman is a Man of Honour ; to which I heard another Voice reply, what good could our Death do to any Stranger ? Faith, I don't apprehend half the Danger you do ; I dare say the Gentleman would be glad of our Company, and we should be pleased with his ; come, hang Fear, I'll lead the Way. So said, so done, in they came, Five of them., all disguised so effectually, that I declare unless it were in the same Disguise, I should not be able to distinguish any one of them.. Down they sat, and he who I suppose was constituted their Captain pro hac Vice, accosted me with great Civility, and asked me, if I would honour them with my Company to Supper ; / acknowledge T did not yet guess the Pro- fession of my new Acquaintance. But supposing -my Landlord would be catttious of suffering either a Rob- bery or a Murder in his own House, I know not how, but by Degrees my Mind gr€w perfectly easy. About Ten d Clock I heard a very great Noise of Horses, and soon after of Mens Feet trampling in a Room, over my Head, th^n my Landlord came down and in- formed us. Supper was just ready to go upon the Table. Upon this, we were all desired to walk up ; and he, whom I before called the Captain, presented me with a humorous kind of Ceremony to a Man more disguised than the Rest, who sat at the tipper End of the Table, telling nie at the same time, he The Waltham Blacks. 261 hoped I would not refuse to pay my Respects to Prince Oroonoko, King of the Blacks. It then immediately strttck into my Head, who those worthy Persons were, into whose Company I was thus accidentally fallen. I called myself a thousand Blockheads in m.y Mind for not finding it out before ; but the hurry of things, or to speak the Truth, the Fear I was in, prevented my judging even from the Wrost evident Signs. As soon Us our awkward Ceremony \ was over, Supper was brought in. It consisted of eighteen Dishes of Venison in every Shape, roasted, boiled with Broth, hashed Collups, Pasties, Umble Pies, and a large Haunch in the Middle larded. The Table we sat at was very large, and the Company in all Twenty-one Persons. At each of our Elbows there was set a Bottle of Claret. The Man and U^oman of the House sat down at the lower End. Two or three of the Fellows had good natural Voices, and so the evening was spent as m,errily as the Rakes pass theirs at the King's Arms, or the City Apprentices, with their Masters Maids at Sadler's Wells. About Two the Company seemed inclined to break up, having first assured m-e that they should take m.y Company as a Favour-any Thursday Evening, if I came that Way. I confess I did not sleep all Night with reflecting on what had passed, and could not resolve with myself whether these humorous Gentlem,en in Masquerade were to be ranked under the deno- mination of Knights Errants or plain Robbers. This I must tell you, by the bye, that with Respect both to Honesty and Hardship, their Life resembles much that of the Hussars, since drinking is all their Delight, and plundering their Employment. Before I conclude my Epistle, it is fit I should in- form yoit, that they did me the Honour, with a Design 262 The History of perhaps to have received me into their Order, of acquainting me with those Rules by which their Society was governed. In the first Place, their Black Prince assured m,e that their Government was perfectly Mo- narchial, and that when upon Expeditions, he had an absolute Command, but in the time of Peace (continued he) and at the Table, Government being no longer ne- cessary, I condescend to eat and drink familiarly with my Subjects as Friends. We admit no Man {con- tinued he) into our Society, until he has been twice drunk with us, that we may be perfectly acquainted with his Temper, in compliance with the old Proverb, Women, Children, and drunken Folks speak Truth ; but if the Person who sues to be admitted, declares solemnly he was never drunk in his Life, and it appears plainly to the Society in such Case, this Rule is dis- pensed with, and the Person before Admission is only bound to converse with us a Month. As soon as we have determined to admit him, he is then to equip him- self with a good Mare or Gelding, a Brace of Pistols, and a Gun of the Size of this, to lie on the Sctddle Bow ; then he is sworn upon the Horns over the Chimney, and having a new name conferred by the Society, is thereby entered upon the Roll, and from that Day forward considered as a lawful Member. He went on with abundance m.ore of their wise Insti- tutions, which I think are not of Consequence enough to tell you, and shall only remark one thing m,ore, which is the Phrase they m,ake use of in speaking of one another, viz : He is a very honest Fellow, and oue of us. For you m,ust know tt is the first Article in their Creed, that there s no Sin in Deer-stealing. In the Morning, having given my Landlady the pther Crown Piece, I found her Temper so much altered for The Waltham Blacks. 263 the better, that in my Conscience I believe she was not in the humour to have refused me anything, no, not even the last Favour ; and so walking down the Yard and finding my Horse in pretty tolerable Order, I speeded directly hoTne, as Tnuch in Amaze at the new People T had discovered, as the Duke ^Alva's Htmts- men when they found an tindiscovered Nation in Spain, by following their Masters Hawk over the Mountains. You see T have taken a great Deal of Pains in 7ny Letter. Pray in Return, let m,e have as long, a one from yoti, and let me see if all your London Rambles can prodtice such another Adventtire." Before I leave these People, I think it proper to acquaint my Readers, that their Folly was not to be extinguished by a single Execution ; there were a great many young Fellows of the same Stamp, who were Fools enough to forfeit their Lives upon the same Occasion. However, the Humour did not run very long, though some of them were impudent enough to murder a Keeper or two afterwards. Yet in the Space of a Twelvemonth the, whole Nation of the Blacks was extinguished, and these Country Rakes were content to play the Fool upon easier Terms. The last Blood that was shed on either Side was that of a Keeper's Son, at Old Windsor, whom some of these wise People fired at as he looked out of Window. By this means they drew on their own Ruin, and that of several numerous Families, by which the Country was put in such Terror that we have heard nothing of them since, though this Act of Parliament, as I shall tell you, has been by Con- struction extended to some other Criminals who were not strictly speaking of the same kind as the Waltham Blacks. 264 The Life of The Life ^t/" Julian, a Black-Boy, an Incendiary. |ROM speaking of artificial Blacks, I come now to relate the unhappy Death of one who was naturally of that Colour. This poor Creature's Name was Julian. At the time of his Execution he seemed to be about sixteen Years of Age. He had been stolen while young from his Parents at Madras. He still retained, both his Pagan Ignorance in respect to Religion and our Language. He was brought over by one Captain Dawes, who presented him to Mrs. Elizabeth Turner, where he was used with the greatest Tenderness and Kindness, often calling him into dance and sing after his Manner before Company ; and he himself ac- knowledged that he had never been so happy in his Life as he was there. Yet on a Sudden, he stole about twenty or thirty Guineas, and then placing a Candle under the Sheets, left it burning to fire the House, and consume the Inhabitants in it. Of this, upon full Proof and his own Confession made before Sir Francis Forbes and Mr. Turner, he was convicted. While he remained under Sentence, he was often heard to mumble in reproachful and revengeful Terms to himself. However, before his Death he learned the Lord's Prayer, and when it was demanded whether he would be a Christian, he assented with great Joy, which arose it seerns from his having heard the com- mon foolish Opinion that Blacks when christened are to be set free. However, christened he was, and Julian, an Incendiary. 265 received at his Baptism the Name of John. The Place in which he was confined being very damp, the Boy having nothing to lay on but a Coat, caught so great a Cold in his Limbs that he almost lost the Use of them before his Death, and continued in a State of great Pain and Weakness, insomuch that when he was told he must prepare for his Execution, he determined with himself to prevent it, and for that Purpose desired one of the Prisoners to lend him a Pen- Knife. But the Man it seems had more Grace than to grant his Request, and he ended his Life at Tyburn according to his Sentence. The Life of Abraham Deval, a Lottery Ticket Forger. \BRAHAM DEVAL, who had been a Clerk to the Lottery -Office, at last took it into his Head to coin Tickets for himself, and had such good Luck therein, that he at one time counterfeited a Certificate for ^52 \2s. for seven Blank Lottery Tickets, in the Year 1723. Two or three other Facts of the same Nature he perpe- trated with the like success ; but happening to coun- terfeit two Blank Tickets of the Lottery, in the Year in which he died, they were discovered, and he was thereupon apprehended and tried at the Old-Bailey. On the first Indictment, he was for want of Evidence acquitted, upon which he behaved himself with great insolence, lolled out his Tongue at the Court, and told them, he did not value the second Lidictment, but 266 The Life of herein he happened to be mistaken, for the Jury found him guilty of that Indictment, and thereupon he received Sentence of Death accordingly. Notwithstanding that Impudence with which he had treated the Court at his Trial, he complained very loudly of their not showing him Favour ; nay, he even pretended that he had not Justice done him, which he grounded upon this Score : the Ticket he was indicted for was No. 39, in the 651st course of Payment. Now it seems in the searching his Brother- m-L.'ayN Parsons s Room, the original Ticket was found, though very much torn, from whence Deval would have had it taken to be no more than a Duplicate, and much blamed his Counsel for not insisting long enough upon this Point, which if he had done, Deval entertained a strong Opinion that he could not have been convicted. The apprehension of this, and the uneasiness he was under with his Irons, made him pass his last Moments with great unquietness and discontent. He said it was against Law to put Men in Irons ; that fettering English Subjects, except they attempted to break Prisons, was altogether illegal. But after having raved at this Rate for a small Space, when he found it did him no Good, and there were no Hopes of a Reprieve, he even began to settle himself to the Performance of those Duties which became a Man in his sad Condition ; and when he did apply himself thereto, nobody could appear to have a juster sense than he of that miserable and sad Condition into which the Folly and- Wickedness of his Life had brought him. It is certain the Man did not want Parts, though sometimes he applied them to the worst of Purposes, and was cursed with an insolent Abraham Deval, a Forger. 267 and overbearing Temper, which hindered him from being loved or respected anywhere, and which never did him any Service, but in the last Moments of his Life, where if it had not been for the Severity of his Behaviour, Julian the Black-Boy, would have been very troublesome, both to him and to the other Person who was under Sentence at the same Time. At the Place of Execution, Deval owned the Fact, but wished the Spectators to consider whether for all that he was legally convicted, and so suffered in the thirtieth year of his Age. The Life of Joseph Blake, alias Blueskin, a Foot- Pad and Highwayman. S there is Impudence and Wickedness enough in the Lives of most Malefactors to make Persons of a sober Education and Behaviour wonder at the depravity of hu- man Nature, so there are sometimes superlative Rogues, who in the infamous Boldness of their Be- haviour as far exceed the ordinary Class of Rogues as they do honest People ; and whenever such a Monster as this appears in the World, there are enough Fools to gape at him, and to make such a Noise and Outcry about his Conduct, as is sure to invite others of the Gang to imitate the Obstinacy of his Deportment, through that false Love of Fame which seems inherent to human Nature. Amongst the Number of these, Joseph Blake, better known by his Nick- Name of Blueskin, always deserves to be 26& The Life of remembered, as one who thought Wickedness the greatest Achievement, and studiously took the Paths of Infamy to become famous. By Birth he was a Native of the City of London. His Parents, being Persons in tolerable Circum- stances, kept him six Years at School, where he did not learn half as much Good from his Master as he did Evil from his School-Fellow William Blewit, from whose Lessons he Cppied so well that all his Education signified Nothing. He absolutely refused when he came from School to go to any Employment, but on the contrary set up for a Robber when he was scarce Seventeen. But from that Time to the Day of his Death, he was unsuccessful in all his Under- takings, hardly ever committing the most trivial Fact, but he experienced for it, either the Humanity of the Mob, or of the Keepers of Bridewell, out of which or some other Prison, he could hardly keep his Feet for a Month together. He fell into the Gang of Lock, Wilkinson, Carrick, Lincoln -axid Daniel Carrol. As to the last, having so often had Occasion to men- tion him, perhaps my Readers may be desirous to know what became of him. I shall therefore inform them that after Ca,rrick and Malony were executed for robbing Mr. Young, as has been before related, he fled home to his own native Country, Ireland. where for a While making a great Figure, till he had exhausted what little Wealth he had brought over with him from England, he was obliged to go again upon the old Method to supply him. But Street- robbing being a very new thing at Dublin, it so alarmed that City, that they never ceased pursuing him, and one or two more who joined with him, until catching them one Night at their Employment, they Joseph Blake, a Highwayman. 269 pursued Carrol so closely, that he was obliged to come to a close Engagement with a Thieftaker, and was killed upon the Spot. But to return to Blake, alias Blueskin. Being one N ight out with this Gang, they robbed one Mr. Clark of 8^-. and a Silver-hilted Sword, just as Candles were going to be Lighted. A Woman looking accidentally out of a Window, perceived it, and cried out. Thieves. Wilkinson fired a Pistol at her, which (very luckily) upon her drawing in her Head, grazed upon the Stone of the Window, and did no other Mischief. Blake was also in the Company of the same Gang, when they attacked Captain Langley at the corner of High-Park Road, as he was going to the Camp, but the Captain behaved himself so well, that notwithstanding they shot several Times through and through his Coat, yet they were not able to Rob him. Not long after this, Wilkinson being apprehended, impeached a large number of Persons, and with them Joseph Blake and William, Lock. Lock hereupon made a fuller disco- very than the other before Justice Blackerby, in which Information there was contained no less than seventy Robberies, upon which he also was admitted a Wit- ness, and named Wilkinson, Lincoln, Carrick and Carrol, with himself, to have been the five Persons who murdered Peter Martin, the Chelsea Pensioner, by 'Ca.^ Park-Wall, upon which Wilkinson was appre- hended, tried and convicted ; notwithstanding the Information he had before given, which was thereby totally set aside, so that Blake himself became now an Evidence against the rest of his Companions, and discovered about a dozen Robberies which they had committed. Amongst these there was a very re* markable one ;" two Gentlemen in Hunting Caps, 270 The Life of were together in a Chariot on the Hampstead-Road, from whom they took two gold Watches, Rings, Seals, and other Things to a considerable Value. Junks, alias Levee, laying his Pistol down by the Gentlemen all the while he searched them, yet they wanted either the Courage or the Presence of Mind to seize and prevent their losing Things of so great Value. Not long after this, Oakey, Junks and this Blake, stopped a single Man with a Link before him in Fig-Lane, and he not surrendering so easily as they expected. Junks and Oakey beat him over the Head with their Pistols, and then left him wounded in a terrible Condition, taking from him one Guinea and one Penny. A very short Time after this. Junks, Oakey, and Flood, were apprehended and executed for robbing Colonel Cope and Mr. Young of that very Watch, for which Carrick and Malony had been before executed, Joseph Blake being the Evidence against them. , After this hanging Work of his Companions, he thought himself not only entitled to Liberty- but Reward ; herein however he was mightily mistaken, for not having surrendered willingly and quietly, but being taken after long Resistance and when he was much wounded, there did not seem to be the least Foundation for this confident Demand. He re- mained still a Prisoner in the Wood-street Compter, obstinately refusing to be transported for seven Years, but insisting that as he had given Evidence, he ought to have his Liberty. However, the Magistrates were of another Opinion. At last, pro- curing two Men to be bound for his good Behaviour, he was carried before a worthy Alderman of the City and there discharged ; at which Time, some- Joseph Blake, « Highwayman. 271 body there present asking how long might be given him before they should see him again at. the Old- Bailey ? A Gentleman made answer, in about three Sessions, in which time it seems he guessed very right, for the third Sessions from thence Blake was indeed brought to the Bar. For no sooner were his Feet at Liberty, but his Hands were employed in Robbing, and having picked up Jack Shepherd for a Companion, they went out together to search for Prey in the Fields. Near the Half- Way House to Hampstead, they met with one Pargiter, a Man pretty much in Liquor, whom immediately Blake knocked down into the Ditch, where he must have inevitably have perished, if yohn Shepherd had not kept his Head above the Mud with great Difficulty. For this Fact, the next Sessions after it happened, the two Brothers Bright- wells in the Guards were tried, and if a Number of Men had not sworn them to have been upon Duty at the Time the Robbery was committed, they had ' certainly been convicted, the Evidence of the Prose- cutor being direct and full. Through the Grief of this the elder Brightwell died in a week after he was released from his Confinement, and so did not live to see his Innocence fully cleared by the Confession of Blake. A very short space after this, Blake and his Com- panion Shepherd committed the Burglary together in the House of Mr. Kneebone, where 5",^^;^^r^ getting into the House, let in Blake at the back Door and stripped the House to a considerable Value. For this, both Shepherd and he were apprehended, and the Sessions before Blake was convicted, his Com- panion receivisd Sentence of Death, but at the Time 272 The Life of Blake was taken up, had made his Escape out of the condemned Hole. He behaved with great Impu- dence at his Trial, and when he found nothing would save him, he took the Advantage of yonathan Wild coming to speak with him, to cut the said Wild's Throat, a large Gash from the Ear beyond the Wind-pipe, of which Wound Wild languished a long time ; and happy had it been for him if Blake s Wound had proved fatal, for then fonathan had escaped Death by a more dishonourable Wound in the Throat than that of a Pen-Knife. But the Number of his Crimes and the Spleen of his Ene- mies procured him a worse Fate. Whatever Wild might deserve of others, he seems to have merited better Usage from this Blake; for while he continued a Prisoner in the Comptor, fonathan was at the Expense of curing his Wound, allowed him Three Shillings and Sixpence a Week, and after his last Misfortune promised him a good Coffin, and actually furnished him with Money to support him in New- gate, and several good Books, if he would have made any Use of them. But because he freely declared to Blueskin, there was no Hopes of getting him transported, the bloody Villain determined to. take away his Life, and was so far from showing any Signs of Remorse, when he was brought up again to Newgate, that he declared that if he had thought of it before, he would have provided such a Knife as should have cut his Head off. At the Time that he received Sentence, there was a Woman also condemned, and they being placed as usual, in what is called Bail-Dock at the Old-Bailey, Blake offered such Rudeness to the Woman, that she cried out and alarmed the whole Bench. All the Joseph Blake, a Highwayman. 273 time he lay under Condemnation, he appeared utterly thoughtless and insensible of his approaching Fate. Though from the Cutting of Wild's Throat, and from some other Barbarities of the same Nature, he acquired amongst the Mob the Character of a brave Fellow ; yet he was in himself but a mean spirited timorous Wretch, and never exerted himself, but either through Fury and Despair. His Cowardice appeared manifest in his Behaviour at his Death ; he wept much at the Chapel the Morning he was to die ; and though he drank deeply to drive away Fear, yet at the Place of Execution he wept again, trembled, and shewed all the Signs of a timorous Confusion, as well he might, who had lived wickedly and trifled with his Repentance to the Grave. There was Nothing in his Person extraordinary ; a dapper, well set Fellow, of great Strength, and great Cruelty,, equally detested by the sober Part of the World, for the audacious Wickedness of' his Behaviour, and despised by his Companions for the Villanies he committed even against them. He was executed in the 28th Year of his Age, on the nth of November, 1724. T/ie Life of the famous John Shepherd, Foot-pad, House-breaker, and Prison-breaker. |MONGST the Prodigies of ingenious Wick- edness and artful Mischief, which have, surprised the World in our Time, perhaps none has made so great a Noise as John Shepherd, the Malefactor of whom we are now to T 2 74 The Life of speak. His Father's Name was Thomas Shepherd, who was by Trade a Carpenter, and Hved in Spittle- Fields, a Man of an extraordinary good Character, and who took all the Care his narrow Circumstances would allow that his Family might be brought up in the Fear of God, and in just Notions of their Duty towards their Neighbour. Yet he was so unhappy in his Children, that both this Son John and another took to ill Courses, and both in their Turn have been convicted at the Bar of the Old Bailey. After the Father's Death, his Widow did all she could to get this unfortunate Son of hers admitted into Christ's Hospital, but failing of that, she got him bred up at a School in Bishopsgate-Street, where he learned to read, and might in all probability have got a good Education, if he had not been too soon removed, being put out to a Trade, viz., that of a Cane-Chair Maker, who used him very well, and with whom probably he might have lived honestly ; but his Master dying in a short time afterwards, he was put to another, a much younger Man, who used him so harshly, that in a little time he ran away from him, and was put to another Master, one Mr. Wood, in Witch-Street, from whose Kindness and that of Mr. Kneebones, whom he robbed, he was taught to write, and had many other Favours done him by that Gentleman, whom he so ungratefully treated. But good usage or bad, it was grown all alike to him now ; he had given himself up to all the sensual Pleasures of low Life. Drinking all day, and getting to some impudent and notorious Strumpet at Night, was the whole Course of his life for a considerable Space, without the least Reflection on what a miser- able Fate it- might bring upon him here, much less John Shepherd, Foot-pad, &c. 275 the Judgment that might be passed upon him here- after. Amongst the Chief of his Mistresses there was one Elizabeth Lion, commonly called Edgeworth Bess, the Impudence of whose Behaviour was shock- ing even to the greatest Part of Shepherd's Com- panions ; but it seems it charmed him so much, that he suffered her for a while to direct him in every Thing. She was the first who engaged him in taking base Methods to obtain Money wherewith' to pur- chase baser Pleasures. This Lion was a large masculine Woman, and Shepherd a very slight limbed Lad, so that whenever he had been drinking and came to her quarrelsome, Bess often beat him into better Temper, though Shepherd upon other Oc- casions manifested his wanting neither Courage nor Strength. Repeated Quarrels however with Shepherd and his Mistress, as it does often with People of better Rank, created such Coldness, that they spoke not together sometimes for a Month. But our Robber could not be so long without some fair one to take up his Time, and drive his Thoughts from the Con- sideration of his Crimes, and the Punishment which might one Day befall them. The Creature he picked out to supply the Place of Betty Lion, was one Mrs. Maggott, a woman some- what less boisterous in her Temper, but fully as wicked. She had a very great Contempt for Shep- herd, and only made Use of him to go and steal Money, or what might yield Money, for her to spend in Company that she liked better. One Night when Shepherd came to her, and told her he had pawned the last thing he had for half a Crown, prithee says she, dont tell me such melancholy Stories, but think 276 The Life of how you may get more Money. I have been in White- Horse- Yard this Afternoon, there s a Piece-Broker there worth a great Deal of Money ; he keeps his Cash in a Drawer under the Counter ; and there s abundance of good Things in his Shop that would be fit for me to wear. A Word, you know, to the Wise is enough ; let me see now how soon you II put me in Possession of them. This had the Effect she desired. Shepherd left her about one o'Clock in the Morning, went to the House she talked of, took up the Cellar Window bars, and from thence entered the Shop, which he plundered of Money and Goods, to the amount of ;^2 2, and brought it to his Doxey the same Day before she was stirring, who appeared thereupon very well satisfied with his Diligence, and helped him in a short Time to squander what he had so dearly earned. However, he still retained some Affection for his old Favourite Bess Lion, who being taken up for some of her Tricks, was committed to St. Giles's Round- House, where Shepherd going to see her, broke the Doors open, beat the Keeper, and like a true Knight Errant set his distressed Param.our at Liberty, which heroic Act got him so much Repu- tation amongst the fair Ladies in Drury-Lane, that there was nobody of his Profession so much esteemed by them as John Shepherd, which his Brother Thomas, who had taken to the same Trade, observing, and being himself in tolerable Estimation, with that debauched part of the Sex, he importuned some of them to speak to his Brother John to lend him a little Money, and for the future to allow him to go out a Robbing with him. To both these Propositions, Jack being a kind Brother as he himself said, con- sented at the first Word, and from thenceforward the John Shepherd, Foot-bad, &c. 277 two Brothers were always of one Party, Jack having (as he impudently phrased it) lent him Forty Shil- lings to put himself in proper Plight for it, and having soon after their being together broke open an Ale- house, where they got a tolerable Booty, John, in a high '^Fit of Generosity, presented it all to his Brother, as soon after he did Clothes to a very con- siderable Extent, that the young Man might not ap- pear among the Damsels of Drury-Lane unbecoming Mr. Shepherd's Brother. In about three Weeks after their coming together, they broke open a Linen Draper's Shop, near Clare Market, where the Bro- thers made good use of their Time ; for they were not in the House above a Quarter of an Hour, before they made a Shift to strip it of ^50 ; but the younger Brother acting imprudently in disposing of some of the Goods, he was detected and apprehended, upon which the first thing he did was to make a full Dis- covery, to impeach his Brother, and as many of his Confederates as he could. Jack was very quickly apprehended upon his Brother's Information, and was committed by Justice Parry to the Round-house, for further Examination, but Jack, instead of waiting for that, began to examine the Strength of the Place of his Confinement, which being much too weak for a Fellow of his Capacity, he marched off before Night, and committed a Robbery into the Bargain, but vowed to be revenged on Torn who had so basely behaved dimself (as ya^/§ phrased it) toward so good a Brother. However that Information going off, Jack went on in his old way as usual. One Day in May, he and J . Benson being in Leicester-Fields, Benson attempted to get a Gentleman's Watch, but missing his pull, the Gentleman perceived it, and 278 The Life of raised a Mob, where Shepherd passing briskly to save his Companion, was apprehended in his stead, and being carried before Justice Walters was committed to New-Prison, where the first Sight he saw was his old Companion Bess Lion, who had found her way thither upon a like Errand. Jack who now saw him- self beset with Danger, began to exert all his little Cunning, which was indeed, his Master-piece, for which purpose he applied first to Benson s Friends, who were in good Circumstances, hoping by their Mediation to make the matter up, but, in this he miscarried. Then he attempted a slight Information, but the Justice to whom he sent it, perceiving how trivial a thing it was, and guessing well at the Drift thereof, refused it ; whereupon Shepherd, when driven to his last shift, communicated his resolution to Bess Lion. They laid their Heads together the fore part of the Night, and then went to Work to break out, which they effected by Force, and got safe off to one of Bess Lions old Lodgings, where she kept him secret for some time, frightening him with Stories of great searches being made after him, in order to de- tain him from conversing with any other Woman. But Jack being not naturally timorous, and having a strong Inclination to be out again in his old Way with his companions, it was not long before he gave her the slip, and lodged himself with another of his Female Acquaintance, in a little by-Court near the Strand. Here one Charles Grace desired to become an Associate with him. yack was very ready to take any young Fellow in as a Partner of his Vil- lanies, Grace telling him that his Reason for doing such Things was to keep a beautiful Woman without the Knowledge of his Relations. Shepherd and he John Shepherd, Foot-pad, &c. 279 getting into the Acquaintance of one Anthony Lamb, an Apprentice to Mr. Carter, near St. Clement's Church, they inveighled the young man to consent to let them in to rob his Master's house. He accordingly performed it, and they took from Mr. Barton who lodged there, Things to a very considerable value ; but Grace zxAShepherd quarrelling about the Division, Shepherd wounded Grace in a violent manner, and on this Quarrel, betraying one another, they were all taken, Shepherd only escaping. But the* Misfortune of poor Lamb who had been drawn in, being so very young, so far prevailed upon several Gentlemen who knew him, that they not only prevailed to have his Sentence mitigated to Transportation, but also fur- nished him with all Necessaries and procured an Order, that on his Arrival there he should not be sold, as the other Felons were, but that he should be left at Liberty to provide for himself as well as he could. It seems that Shepherds Gang, which consisted of himself, his Brother Tom, Joseph Blake, alias Blue- skin, Charles Grace and yames Sikes, to whose Name his Companions tacked their two favourite Syllables, Hell and Fury, not knowing how to dis- pose of the Goods they had taken, made use of one William, Field for that purpose, who Shepherd in his ludicrous Style, used to characterize thus : that he was a Fellow wicked enough to do anything, but his want of Courage permitted him to do nothing, but carry on the Trade he did, which was, that of selling stolen Goods when put into his hands. But Blake and Shepherd finding Field sometimes dilatory, and not thinking it always safe to trust him, they resolved to hire a Warehouse and keep their Goods there, which 28o The Life of accordingly they did, near the Horseferry in West- minster. There they placed what they had took out of Mr. Kneebones House, and the Goods made a great shew there, whence the People in the Neigh- bourhood really took them for honest Persons, who had so great wholesale business on their Hands as occasioned their taking a place there which lay con- venient for the Water. Field however importuned them, having got scent they had such a Warehouse, that he might go and see the Goods, pretending that he had it just now in his power to sell them at a very great Price. They accordingly carried him thither and shewed him the Things, Two or three Days afterwards Field, though he had not Courage enough to rob anybody else, ventured however to break open the Warehouse, and took every rag that had been lodged there. Not long after Shepherd was apprehended for the Fact, and tried at the next Sessions at the Old-Bailey ; his appearance there was very mean, and all the Defence he pretended to make, was, that Jonathan Wild had helped to dis- pose of part of the Goods, and thought it was very hard that he should not share in the Punishment. The Court took little notice of so insignificant a plea, and sentence being passed upon him, he hardly made a sensible Petition for the Favour of the Court in the Report ; but behaved throughout as a Person either Stupid or Foolish ; so far was he from appear- ing in any Degree likely to make the Noise he after- wards did. When put into the Condemned-Hole, he prevailed upon one Fowls, who was also under Sen- tence, to lift him up to the Iron Spikes placed over the Door which looks into the Lodge, a Woman of a large Make attending without, and two others John Shepherd, /^Cf^^aaf, &c. 281 standing behind her in Riding-hoods ; ^ack no sooner got his Head and Shoulders through be- tween the Iron Spikes, than by a sudden Spring his Body followed with Ease, and the Women taking him down gently, he was without Suspicion of the Keepers, (although some of them was Drinking at the upper end of the Lodge) conveyed safely out of the Lodge-Door, and soon getting a Hackney-Coach, went clear off before there was the least notice of his Escape ; which, when it was known, very much sur- prised the Keepers, who never Dreamt of an attempt of that kind before. As soon as yohn breathed the fresh Air, he went again briskly to his old Employ- ment, and the first thing he did, was to find out one Page, a Butcher of his acquaintance in Clare-Market, who dressed him up in one of his Frocks, and then went with him upon the Business of raising Money. No sooner had they set out, but 6>^^/J/^i?r(a^ remembering one Mr. Martins, a Watch-Maker, near the Castle- Tavern, in Fleet-street, and the Situation of the Shop, he prevailed upon his Companion to go thither, and screwing a Gimlet fast into the Post of the Door, they then tied the Knocker thereto with a string, and then boldly breaking the Glasses, snatched three Watches before a Boy that was in the Shop (at the same time) could open the Door, and marched clear off. Shepherd had the impudence upon this occa- sion to pass underneath Newgate. However he did not long enjoy his Liberty, for strolling about Finch- ley-Common, he was apprehended and committed to Newgate; and was put immediately in the Stone- Room, where they put him on a heavy pair of Irons, and then stapled him fast down to the Floor. He being left there alone in Sessions time, most of the 282 The Life of People of the Gaol then attending at the Old-Bailey, he with a crooked Nail opened the Lock, and by that means got rid of his Chain, and .went directly to the Chimney in the Room, where with incessant Working .he got out a couple of Stones, and by that means into a Room called the Red Room, where no- body had been lodged for a considerable Time. Here he threw down a Door, which one would have thought impossible to have been done by the Strength of a Man, though with ever so much noise. From hence with a great deal to do, he forced' his passage into the Chapel, there he broke a Spike off the Door, forcing open by its help four other Doors, getting at last upon the leads. He from thence descended gently by the help of the Blanket on which he lay, for which he went back through the whole Prison, upon the Leads of Mr. Bird, a Turner, who lived next Door to Newgate, and looking in at the Garret Win- dow saw the Maid going to Bed. As soon as he thought she was asleep, he stepped down Stairs, went through the Shop, opened the Door, then into the Street, leaving the Door open behind him. In the Morning when the Keepers were in search after him, hearing of this Circumstance by the Watch- man, they were then perfectly satisfied of the Method by which he went off. However, they were obliged to publish a Reward and make the strictest Enquiry after him ; some foolish People having propagated a Report, that he had not got out without Connivance. In the meanwhile Shepherd found it a very difficult Thing to get rid of his Irons, having been obliged to lurk about and lie hid near a Village not far from Town, until with much ado he fell upon a Method of procuring a Hammer and taking his Irons off. He John Shepherd, Footpad, &c. 283 was no sooner freed from the Incumbrance that re- mained upon him, than he came privately into the Town that Night, and robbed Mr. Rawlins House, a Pawnbroker in Drury-Lane. Here he got a very- large Booty, and amongst other things a very hand- some black Suit of Clothes and a Gold Watch. Being dressed in this Manner, he carried the Rest of the Goods and valuable Effects to two Women, one of whom was a poor young Creature whom Shepherd had seduced, and who was imprisoned on this Ac- count. No sooner had he taken Care of the Booty, but he went amongst his old Companions, Pick- pockets and Whores in Drury-Lane and Clare- Market, where being accidentally espied fuddling at a little Brandy-Shop, by a Boy belonging to an Ale- House, who knew him very well, he immediately gave Information, upon which he was apprehended, and re-conducted with a vast Mob to his old Mansion- House of Newgate, being so much intoxicated with Liquor, that he hardly was sensible of his miserable Fate. However they took effectual Care to prevent a third Escape, never suffering him to be alone a moment, which as it put the Keepers to great Ex- pense, they took Care to pay themselves with the Money they took of all who came to see him. In this last Confinement it was that Mr. Shepherd and his Adventures became the sole Topic of Conversa- tion about Town. Numbers flocked daily to behold him, and he far from being displeased at being made a Spectacle of, entertained all who came with the greatest Gaiety that could be. He acquainted them with all his Adventures, related each of his Robberies in the most ludicrous Manner, and endeavoured to set off every Circumstance of his flagitious Life, as 284 The Life of well as his Capacity would give him leave, which to say Truth, was excellent at Cunning and Buffoonery, and nothing else. Nor were the Crowds of the People on this Occasion, that thronged to Newgate made up of the Dregs of the People only, for then there would have been no Wonder ; but instead of that, Persons of the first Distinction, and not a few even dignified with Titles. It is certain that the Noise made about him, and this Curiosity of Persons of so high a Rank was a very great Misfortune to the poor Wretch himself, who from these Circum- stances began to conceive grand Ideas of himself, as well as strong Hopes of Pardon, which encouraged him to play over all his Airs, and divert as many as thought it worth their while, by their Presence, to prevent a dying Man from considering his latter End, and instead of repenting of his Crimes, gloried in rehearsing them. Yet when Shepherd came up to Chapel, it was observed that all his Gaiety was laid aside, and he both heard and assisted with great Attention at Divine Service ; though upon other Occasions he as much as he could avoided religious Discourse. Depending upon the Petitions he had made to several Noblemen to intercede with the King for Mercy, he seemed rather to aim at diverting his Time until he received a Pardon, than to improve the few Days he had to prepare himself for his last. On the loth of November, 1724, he was by Certiorari removed to the Bar of Court of King's Bench, at Westminster, an Affidavit being made, that he was the same John Shepherd mentioned in the Record of Conviction before read, Mr. Justice Powis awarded Judgment against him, and a Rule was made for his Execution on the i6th. John Shepherd, Footpad, &c. 285 Such was the unaccountable Fondness this Criminal had for Life, and so unwilling was he to lose all Hopes of preserving it, that he framed in his Mind Resolutions of cutting the Rope when he should be bound in the Cart, thinking thereby to get amongst the Crowd, and so into Lincoln s-Inn-Fields, and from thence to the Thames. For this Purpose he had provided a Knife, which was with great Difficulty- taken from him by Mr. Watson yi^o was to attend him to Death. Nay, his Hopes were carried even beyond hanging ; for when he spoke to a Person to whom he gave what Money he had remaining, out of the large Presents he had received from those who came to divert themselves, at Shepherd's Show, or Newgate-Fair, he most earnestly entreated him, that as soon as possible his Body might be taken out of the Hearse which was provided for him, put into a warm Bed, and if it were possible, some Blood taken from him, for he was in great Hopes that he might be brought to Life again ; but if he was not, he de- sired him to defray the Expenses of his Funeral, and return the Overplus to his poor Mother. Then he resumed his usual Discourse about his Robberies, and in the last Moments of his Life endeavoured to divert himself from the Thoughts of Death ; yet so uncertain and various was he in his Behaviour, that he told one whom he had a great Desire to see the Morning he died, that he had then a Satisfaction at his Heart, as if he was going to enjoy two hundred Pounds /^r Annuvt. At the Place of Execution, to which he was con- veyed in a Cart with Iron Handcuffs on, he behaved himself very gravely, confessing his robbing Mr. Philips and Mrs. Cook, but denied Xh^X J oseph Blake 286 The Life of and he had William Field in their Company when they broke open the House of Mr. Kneebone. After this he submitted to his Fate, the r6th of November, 1724, much pitied by the Mob. The Life of Lewis Houssart, the French Barber, a Murderer. |S there is not any Crime more shocking to human Nature, or more contrary to all Laws human and divine than Murder, so perhaps there has been few in these last Years com- mitted accompanied with more odd Circumstances than that for which this Criminal suffered. Lewis Houssart was born at Sedan, a Town in Champaigne, in the Kingdom of France. His own Paper says, that he was bred a Surgeon and qualified for that Business ; however that were, he was here no better than a Penny Barber, only that he let Blood, and thereby got a little and not much Money. As to the other Circumstances of his Life, my Memoirs are not full enough to assist me in speaking thereto ; all I can say of him is, that while his Wife Anne Rondeau was living, he married another Woman, and the Night of the Marriage, before sitting down to Supper, he went out a little Space. During the Interval between that and his coming in, it was judged from the Cir- cumstances that I shall mention hereafter, that he cut the poor Woman's Throat who was his first Wife with a Razor. For this being apprehended, he was tried at the Old-Bailey, but for want of Proof was Lewis Houssart, « Mtirderer. 287 acquitted. Not long after he was indicted for Bigamy. Upon this Indictment he, scarce making any Defence, was found guilty ; he said thereupon, it was no more than he expected, and that he did not trouble himself to preserve so m,uch as his Reputation in this Respect, for in the first Place he knew they were resolved to convict him, and in the next he said, where there was no Fault, there was no Shame ; and that his first Wife was a Socinian, an irrational Creature, and was entitled to the Advantages of no Nation nor People, because she was no Christian ; and accordingly the Scripture says, with such a One have no Conversation, no, not so mtuh as to eat with them. But an appeal being lodged against him by Solomon Rondeau, Brother and Heir to Anne his Wife, yet that appear- ing to be defective, it was quashed ; and he was charged upon another, whereunto joining Issue upon six Points, they came to be tried at the Old-Bailey ; where the following Circumstances appeared upon the Trial. First, that at the Time he was at Supper at his new Wife's House, he started on a Sudden, looked aghast and seemed to be very much frightened. A little Boy deposed that the Prisoner gave him Money to go to his own House in a little Court, and fetch the Mother of the deceased Anne Rondeau to a Gentleman who w^ould be at such a Place and stay for her. When the Mother returned from that Place and found nobody wanting her, or that had wanted her, she was very much out of humour at the Boy's calling her ; but that quickly gave way to the Sur- prise of finding her Daughter murdered as soon as she entered the Room. This Boy who called her was very young ; yet out of a Number of Persons 288 The Life of that were in Newgate he singled out Lewis Houssart, and declared that he was the only Man among them, who gave him Money to go on the Errand for old Mistress Rondeau. Upon this and several other cor- roborating Proofs the Jury found him guilty ; upon which he arraigned that Justice of a Court which . hitherto had been preserved without a Taint ; de- claring, that he was innocent, and that they might punish him if they would, but they could not make him guilty, and much more to the like Effect. But the Court were not troubled with that ; he scarcely endeavoured to make any other Defence. While in the condemned Hole amongst the rest of the Crimi- nals, he behaved himself in a very odd Manner, and insisted upon it that he was innocent of the Fact laid to his Charge, and threw out most opprobrious Lan- guage against the Court that condemned him, and when he was advised to lay aside such Heats of passionate Expressions, he said, he was sorry he did not more fully expose British Justice upon the Spot at the Old Bailey, and that now since they had tied up his Hands from acting, he would at least have Satis- faction in saying what he pleased. When this Houssart was first apprehended he appeared to be very much affected with his Condition, was continually reading good Books, praying and meditating, and shewing the utmost Signs of a Heart full of Concern, and under the greatest Emotions ; but after he had been once acquitted, it made a thorough Change in his Temper ; he quite laid aside all the former Gravity of his Temper, and gave Way, on the Contrary, to a very extraordinary Spirit of Obstinacy and Unbelief; he puzzled himself con- tinually, and if Mr. Deval who was then under Sen- Lewis Houssart, a Murderer. 289 tence would have given leave, attempted to puzzle him too, as to the Doctrines of a future State, and an identical Resurrection of the Body, saying, he could not be persuaded of the Truth thereof in a literal Sense ; that when the individual Frame of Flesh which he bore about him was once dead, and from being Flesh became again Clay, he did not either conceive or believe, that it, after lying in the Earth, or disposed of otherwise, perhaps for the Space of a Thousand Years, should at the last Day be reanimated by the Soul which possessed it now, and become answerable even to eternal Punishment, for Crimes committed so long ago. It was he said also little agreeable to the Notions he entertained of the infinite Mercy of God, and therefore he chose rather to look upon such Doctrines as Errors received from Education, than torment and afflict himself with the Terrors which must arise from such a Belief But Mr. Deval after he had answered as well as he could these Objections once, refused to. hearken a second Time to any such Discourses, and was obliged to have Recourse to harsh Language to oblige him to desist. In the Meanwhile his Brother came over {roxa. Holland, on the News of this dreadful Misfor tune, and went to make him a Visit in the !Place of his Confinement while under Condemnation, to con- dole with him on the heavy Weight of his Misfor- tunes. Instead of receiving the Kindness of his Brother in the Manner it deserved. Houssart began to make Light of the Affair, and treated the Death of his Wife and his own Confinement in such a Manner, that his Brother leaving him abrupdy, went back to Holland more shocked at the Brutality of his Beha- viour, than grieved for the Misfortune which had befallen him. 290 The Life of It being a considerable Space of Time that Hous- sart lay in Confinement in Newgate, and even in the condemned Hole, he had there of Course abundance of Companions, but of them all he affected none so much as fohn Shepherd, with whom he had abun- dance of merry and even loose Discourses, one par- ticularly, when the Sparks flew quickly out of the Charcoal Fire; he said to Shepherd, see, see, T wish there zuere so many Bullets that might beat the Prison down about our Ears, and then I might die like Samson. It was near a Month before he was called up to receive Sentence, after which he made no scruple of saying, that since they had found him guilty of Throat cutting, they should not lie, he would verify their Judgment by cutting his own Throat, upon which when some who were in the same sad State with himself, objected to him how great a Crime Self- Murder was ; he immediately made Answer, he was satisfied it was no Crime at all, and upon this he fell to arguing in favour of the Mortality of the Soul, as if certain that it died with the Body, and endeavouring to cover his Opinions with false Glosses on that Text in Genesis, where it is said, that God breathed into Man a living Soul, from whence he w'ould have inferred, that when a Man ceased to Live, he totally lost that Soul ; and when it was asked of him where then it went, he said, he did not knoiv, nor did it concern him much. The Standers by, who notwithstanding their profligate Course "of Life, had a natural Abhorrence of this Theoretical Impiety, re- proved him in very sharp Terms, for making use of such Expressions, upon which he repHed, Ay ! would, you have me believe all the stj'ange Notions that are Lewis Houssart, a Murderer. 291 taught by the Parsons ? that the Devil is a real Thing? that our good God punishes Souls for ever and ever ? that Hell is full of Flames from material Fire ; and that this Body of m-ine shall feel it ? Well, you Tnay believe it if you please, but it is so with m.e that I cannot. Sometimes, however, he would lay aside the Scep- tical Opinions for a time, talk in another strain, and appear mightily concerned at the Misfortunes he had drawn upon his second Wife and Child ; he would then speak of Providence, and the Decrees of God, with much seeming Submission, would own that he had been guilty of many and grievous Offences, say, that the Punishment of God was just, and desired the Prayers of the Minister of the Place, and those that were about him. When he reflected on the Grief it would give his Father, near ninety Years old, to hear of his Misfor- tunes, and that his Son should be shamefully executed for the Murder of his Wife ; he was seen to shed Tears, and to appear very much afflicted, but as soon as these Thoughts were a little out of his Head, he resumed his former Temper, and was continually asking Questions in relation to the Truth of the Gospel Dispensation, and the Doctrines therein taught of Rewards and Punishments after this Life. Being a Frenchm,an, and not perfectly versed in our Lan- guage, a minister of the reformed Church of that Nation was prevailed upon to attend him. Houssart received him with tolerable Civility, seemed pleased that he should pray by him, but industriously waved all Discourses of his Guilt, and even fell out into violent Passions if a Confession was pressed upon him as a Duty. In this strange way he con- 292 The Life of sumed the Time allowed him to prepare for another World. The Day before his Execution he appeared more than ordinarily attentive at the public Devotions in the Chapel. A Sermon was then made with parti- cular Regard to that Fact for which he was to die ; he heard that also seemingly with much Care ; but when he was asked immediately after to unburthen his Conscience in Respect of the Death of his Wife, he not only refused it, but also expressed a great In- dignation, that he should be tormented (as he called • it) to confess a Thing of which he was not guilty. In the Evening of that Day the Foreign Minister and he whose Duty it was to attend him, both waited upon him at Night in order to Discourse with him, on those strange Notions he had of the Mortality of the Soul, and a total Cessation of Being after this Life. But when they came to speak to him to this Purpose, he said, they might spare themselves any Argjiments upon that Head, for he believed a God and a Resurrection as firmly as they did. They then discoursed to him of the Nature of a Sufficient Re- pentance, and of the Duty incumbent upon him to confess that great Crime for which he was condemned, and thereby give Glory unto God. He fell at this into his old Temper, and said with some Passion, if yoti will pray with me, I'll thank you, and pray with you as long as yoit please ; but If you com.e only to tortiire me of my Guilt, I desire you would let me alone altogether. His Lawyers having pretty well instructed him in the Nature of an Appeal, and he coming thereby to know that he was now under Sen- tence of Death, at the Suit of the Subject, and not of the King, he was very assiduous to learn where it Lewis Houssart, a Murderer. 293 was he was to apply for a Reprieve ; but finding it was the Relations of his deceased Wife from whom he was to expect it, he laid aside all those Hopes, as conceiving it rightly a Thing impossible to prevail upon People to spare his Life, who had almost undone themselves in Prosecuting him. In the Morning of the Day of Execution he was very much disturbed at being refused the Sacrament, which as the Minister told him, could not be given him by the Canon with- out his Confession. Yet this did not prevail; he said, he would die then without receiving it, as he had before answered a French Minister, who said, Lewis Hoiis- sart, since you are condemned on full Evidence, and I see no Reason hU to believe yoii gtiilty, I mtist, as a just Pastor inform you, that if you persist in this Denial, and Die withotit Confession, you can look for nothing but to be D ; to which Houssart replied,, yoii. must look for Damnation to yourself , for judging m,e guilty, when you know nothing of the Matter. This confused frame of Mind he continued in, until he entered the Cart for his Execution, persisting all the Way he went in like Declaration of Innocence, though sometimes intermixed with short Prayers to God to forgive his manifold Sins' and Offences. At the Place of Execution he turned very pale and grew very sick. The Ministers told him, they would not pray by him, unless he would confess the Murder for which he died. He said, he was very sorry for that, but if they would not pray by him, he, could not help it, he woidd not confess what he was totally ignorant of ; he persisted even at the Moment of being tied up, and when such Exhortations were again repeated, he said, Pray do not torment m,e, Pray cease troitbling of me ; I tell you I ivill not make my- 294 The Life of self worse than I am, and so saying, he gave up the Ghost ; without any private Prayer when left alone, or calling upon God or Christ to receive his Spirit. He delivered, however, a Paper, the Copy of which follows, to the Minister of Newgate, from whence my Readers will receive a more exact Idea of the Man from this his Draught of himself, than from any Pic- ture I can draw. The Paper delivered by Lewis Houssart at his Death. I, Lewis Houssart, a^n forty Years old, and was born in Sedan a Town in Campaigne, near BouUonois. / have left France above fotirteen Years. I was Ap- prenticed to a Surgeon at Amsterdam, and after Examination was allowed by the College to be qualified for that Business. I intended to go on board d Ship as Stirgeoit ; but T could never have m.y Health at Sea. T dwelt sometime at Maestrickt in M^ Dutch Brabant, where my aged Father and Brother now dwell. I travelled through Holland, and was in alm.ost every Town. My two Sisters are in France, and also many of my Relations ; for the Earth has scarce any Family more IVumerous than ours. Seven or eight Years I have been in London, and here I met with Anne Rondeau, who was born at the same Vil- lage with me, and therefore I loved her. After I had left her, she wrote to me, and said, she would reveal a secret. I promised her to be secret ; and she told me, She had not been chaste, and the Consequence of it was upon her, upon which I gave her my best Help and Assistance : since she is dead, I hope her Sotd is happy. Lewis Houssart. Charles Towers, a Mintcr. 295 The Life of Charles Towers, a Minter in Wapping. |OTWITHSTANDING it must be appa- rent, even to an ordinary Understanding, that the Law must be executed, both in civil and criminal Cases, and that without such Execution those who live under its Protection would be unsafe, yet it happens so, that those who feel the Smart of its Judgment, though drawn upon them by their own Misdeeds, Follies, or Misfortunes, which the Law of Man cannot remedy or prevent, are always clamouring against its supposed Severity, and making dreadful Complaints of the Hardships they from thence sustain. This Disposition hath engaged Numbers under these unhappy Circum- stances to attempt screening themselves from the Rigour of the Laws by sheltering in certain Places, where by virtue of their own Authority, or rather Necessities, they set up a Right of Exemption and endeavour to establish a Power of preserving those who live within certain limits from being prosecuted according to the usual Course of the Law. Anci- ently indeed, there were several Sanctuaries which depended on the Roman Catholic Religion, and which were of course destroyed when Popery was taken away by Law. However those wl;o had sheltered themselves in them, kept up such Exemp- tion, and by Force withstood whenever civil Officers attempted to execute Process for Debt, and that so vigorously, that at Length they seemed to have es- 296 The Life of tablished by Prescription what was directly against Law. And these pretended privileged Places in- creased at last to such a Degree, that the Legisla- ture in the Ninth Year of King William, was obliged to make Provision by a Clause in an Act of Parliament, requiring the Sheriffs of London, Mid- dlesex, and Surrey, the head Bailiff of the Duchy Liberty, or the Bailiff oi Surrey, under the penalty of one hundred Pounds, to execute with the Assis- tance of \k\.^ posse Comitahcs any Writ or Warrant directed to them, for seizing any Person without any pretended privileged Places ; such as White-Fryars, the Savoy, Salisbury-Court, Ram- Alley, Mitre- Court, Fuller s- Rents, Baldwins Gardens, Montague- Close or the Minories, Mint, Clink, Or Dead Man'i Place, at the same Time ordering Assistance, for executing the Law, to the Sheriff or other Person so endeavouring to apprehend any Person or Persons in such Places as aforesaid, with very great Penalties upon Persons who attempt to rescue Persons from the Hands of Justice in such Places. This Law had a very good effect with Respect to the other Places, excepting the Places within the jurisdiction of the Mint ; though not without some Struggle. There however they still continued to keep up those Privi- leges they had assumed, and accordingly did main- tain them by so far misusing Persons, who attempted to execute Processes amongst them by ducking them in Ditches, dragging them through Privies or Lay Stalls, accompanied by a Number of People, dressed up in 'frightful Habits, who were summoned upon blowing a Horn ; all which at last became so very great a Grievance, that the Legislature was again forced to interpose ; and by an KzX. of the 9th of the Charles Towers, a Minter. 297 late King, the Mint, as it was commonly called, situated in the Parish of St. Georges, Southwark, in the County of Surrey, was taken away, and the Punishment of Transportation, and even Death in- flicted upon such who should persist in maintaining their pretended privileges. Yet so far did the Go- vernment extend its Mercy, as to suffer all those who at the time of passing the Act were actually Shelterers in the Mint, so that they made a just Dis- covery of their Effects, to be discharged from any Imprisonment of their Persons, for any Debts con- tracted before that Time. By this Act of Parliament, the Privilege of the Mint was totally taken away and destroyed ; the Persons who had so many Years supported themselves therein were dissipated and dispersed. Many of them getting again into Debt, and associating themselves with other Persons in the same Condition, they with unparalleled Impu- dence, attempted to set up towards Wapping a new privileged Jurisdiction under the Title of the Seven Cities of Refuge, and in this Attempt were much fur- thered and directed by one Major Santloe, formerly a Justice of the Peace ; but being turned out of Com- mission, he came first a Shelterer here, and after- wards a Prisoner in the Fleet. But these People made an addition to those Laws which had formerly been established in such illegal Sanctuaries, for they provided large Books in which they entered the Names of Persons who entered into their Associa- tion, swearing to defend one another against all Bailiffs and such like ; in Consequence of which, they very often rescued Prisoners out of Custody, or even entered the Hozises of Officers for that purpose. Amongst the Number of these unhappy People who, 298 The Life of by protecting themselves against the lesser Judg- ments of the Law, involved themselves in greater Difficulties, and at last drew on the greatest and most heavy.Sentence which it could Pronounce, was him we now speak of. Charles Towers was a Person whose Circumstances had been for many Years bad ; and in order to re- trieve them he had turned Gamester. For a Guinea or two it seems he engaged for the Payment of a very considerable Debt for a Friend, who not paying it at his Time, Towers was obliged to fly for Shelter into the Old Mint, then in Existence ; but being obliged soon after to quit that, he went into the New, which was just then setting up, and where the Shelterers took upon them to act more licentiously and with greater Outrages towards the Officers of Justice, than the People in any other Places had done. Particularly they erected a Tribunal, on which a Person chosen for that Purpose sat as Judge with great State and Solemnity. When any Bailiffs had attempted to arrest Persons within the Limits which they assumed for their Jurisdiction, he was seized immediately by a Mob of their own People, and hurried before the Judge of their own choosing; there a sort of Charge or Indictment was preferred against him, for attempting to disturb the Peace of the Shelterers within the Jurisdiction of the Seven Cities of Refuge. Then they examined certain Witnesses to prove this, and thereupon pretending to convict such Bailiff as a Criminal, he was sentenced by their Judge aforesaid, to be whipped, or otherwise punished as he thought fit, which was executed fre- quently in the most cruel barbarous Manner, by dragging him through Ditches and other nasty Places, Charles Towers, a Minter. 299 tearing their Clothes off their Backs, and even en- dangering their Lives. One West, who had got amongst them, being arrested by John Errington, who carried him to his House by Wapping Wall, the Shelter ers in the New Mint no sooner heard thereof, but assembhng on a Sunday Morning in a great Number, with Guns, Swords, Staves, and other offensive Weapons, they went to the House of said yohn Errington, and there terrifying and affrighting the Persons in the House, rescued John West, pursuant as they said to their Oaths, he being registered as a protected Person in their Books of the Seven Cities of Refuge. In this Expedition Charles Towers was very forward, being dressed with only a Blue-Pea- Jacket, without Hat, Wig, or Shirt, with a large Stick like a Quarter-Staff in his Hand, his Face and Breast being so blackened that it appeared to be done with Soot and Grease, contrary to the Statute made against those called Waltha,m Blacks, and done after the first Day of June, iT^Zi when that Statute took Place. Upon an Indictment for this, the Fact being very fully and clearly proved, the Jury, notwithstanding his Defence, which was, that he was no more dis- guised than his Necessity obliged him to be, not having wherewith to provide himself Clothes, and his Face perhaps dirty and daubed with Mud, found him Guilty, and he thereupon received Sentence of Death. Before the Execution of that Sentence, he insisted strenuously on his Innocence as to the Point on which he was found Guilty and Condemned, viz., having his Face blacked and disguised within the Intent and Meaning of the Statute ; but he readily acknowledged 300 _ The Life of that he had been often present and assisted at such Mock Courts of Justices as were held in the New Mint, though he absolutely denied sitting as Judge, when one Mr. Westwood, a Bailiff, was most abomi- nably abused, by an order of that pretended Court. , He seemed fully sensible of the Ills and Injuries he had committed, by being concerned amongst such People, but often said that he thought the Bailiffs had sufficiently revenged themselves by the cruel treatment they had used the riotous Persons with, when they fell within their Power ; particularly since they hacked and chopped a Carpenter s right Arm in such a manner, that it was obliged to be cut off; had abused others in so terrible a Degree, that they were not able to Work or do anything for their Living, he himself having received several large Cuts over the Head, which though received several Weeks be- fore, yet were in a very bad Condition at the time of his Death. As to Disguises, he constantly averred they were never practised in the New Mint. He owned they had some Masquerades amongst them, to which himself' amongst others had gone in the Dress of a Miller, and his Face all covered with White, but as to any blacking or other means to prevent his Face being known when he rescued West, he had none, but on the Contrary, was in his usual Habit, as all the Rest were that accompanied him. He framed, as well as he could, a Petition for Mercy, setting forth the Circumstances of the Thing, and the Hardship he conceived for suffering upon the bare Construction of an Act of Parliament ; he set forth likewise the miserable Condition of his Wife and two Children already, she being also big of a Third. This Pe- Charles Towers, a Minter. 301 tition she presented to his Majesty at the Council Chamber Door, but the Necessity there was of pre- venting such Combinations for obstructing Justice, rendered it of none Effect. Upon her return, and Towers being acquainted with the Event, he said, he was contented, that he went wiUirigly into a Land of Quiet, from a World so troublesome and so tor- menting as this had been to him ; then he kneeled down and prayed with great Ferventy and Devotion, after which he appeared very composed and shewed no Ragfe agfainst the Prosecutor and Witnesses who had brought on his Death, as is too often the Case with Men in his miserable Condition. ' On the Day appointed for his Execution, he was carried in a Cart to a Gallows whereon he was to suffer in Wapping. The Crowd, which is not com- mon on such Occasions, Lamenting him, and pouring down showers of Tears, he himself behaving with great Calmness and Intrepidity. After Prayers had been said, he stood up in the Cart, and turning to- wards the People, professed his Innocence in being in Disguise at the time of rescuing Mr. West, with the strongest Asseverations ; said, that it was Capt. Buckland and not himself, who sat as Judge upon Mr. Jones the Bailiff, thozigh as he complained, he had been ill-used while he remained a Prisoner upon that Score. To this he added, that for the Robberies and Thefts with which he was charged, they were Falsities, as he was a dying Man. Money indeed he said, m,ight ' be shaken ottt of the Breeches Pockets of the Bailiff when he was ditched, but that whether it was or was not so, he was no ftcdge, for he never sazv any of it. That as to any design of breaking open Sir Isaac Tilliard's House he was innocent of that also ; in fine, 302 The Life of he owned that the Judgment of God was exceeding just, for the many Offences he committed ; but that the Sentence of the Law was too severe, because (as he understood it) he had done Nothing culpable within the Intent of the Statute on which he died. After this he inveighed for some time against Bailiffs, and then crying with Vehemency to God to receive his Spirit, he gave up the Ghost, on the 4tli oi y annary , 1724-5. However, the Death of Towers might prevent Persons committing such Facts as breaking open the Houses of Bailiffs, and setting Prisoners at Liberty ; yet it did not quite stifle or destroy those Attempts which necessitous People made for screening them- selves from public Justice, insomuch that the Go- vernment on frequent Complaints were obliged at last to cause a Bill to be brought into Parliament for the preventing such Attempts for the Future, where- upon in the nth Year of the late King it passed into a Law to this Effect, That if any Number of Persons not less than Three, associate themselves to- gether in the Hamlet of Wapping, Stepney, or in any other Place within the Bills of Mortality, in Order to shelter themselves from their Debts, after Complaint made thereof, by presentment of a Grand Jury, and should obstruct any Officer legally empowered and au- thorized in the Execution of any Writ or Warrant against any Person whatsoever, and in such obstruct- ing or hindering should hurt, wound, or injure any Person ; then any Offender convicted of such Offence should sttffer as a Felon, and be transported for seven Years in like Man7ier as other Persons are so con- victed. And it is further enacted by the same Law, That tipon application made to the fudge of any Charles Towers, a Minter. 303 Court, Old of which the Writs therein mentioned are issued, the aforesaid fudge, if he see proper, may grant a Warrant directly to the Sheriff, or other proper person to raise the Posse comitatus, where there is any Probability of Resistance ; and if in the Execu- tion of such Warrant any Disturbance should happen, and a Resczie be made, then the Persons assisting in such Rescue, or who harbour or conceal the Persons so rescued shall be transported for seven Years in like Manner as if convicted of Felony ; but all Indictments upon this Statute, are to be commenced in six Months after the Fact committed. The Life of Thomas Anderson, a Scotch Thief. [MONGS.T a Multitude of Tragical Adven- tures it is with some Satisfaction that I mention the Life of a Person who was of the Number of those few, which take warn- ing in Time, and having once felt the Rod of Afflic- tion, fear it ever afterwards. Thomas Anderson, was the Son of reputable Parents in the City of Aberdeen in Scotland. His Father was of the Number of those unhappy People who went over to Darien when the Scots made their Settlement there, in the Reign of the late King William. His Son Thomas being left under the Care of his Mother then a Widow, his Education thus suffered, and he was put Apprentice to a Glazier, although his Father had been a Man of some Fashion, and the Boy always educated with Hopes of living genteelly ; however he is not the first that has been deceived, though he ■ 304 The Life of took it so to heart, that at his first going to his Mas- ter, his Grief was so great as had very nigh killed him. He continued however with his Master two Years, and then making bold with about nine Guineas of his, and thirteen of his Mother's ; he procured a Horse, and made the greatest speed he could to Edinburgh. Tom was sensible enough he should be pursued, and hearing of a Ship ready to sail from Leith for London, he went on board it, and in five Days time having a fair Wind they arrived in the River of Thames. Tom had the Precaution, as soon as he got on Shore, to take a Lodging in a little Street near Bur-Street, in Wapping. There he put his Things ; and his Stock being now dwindled to twelve Guineas, he put two of them in his Fob, with his Mother's old Gold Watch, which he had likewise brought along with him, and then went out to see the Town. He had not walked far in Fleet-Street, whither he had conveyed himself by Boat, but he was saluted by a Woman well dressed, in a Tone almost as broad as his own. He, conscious of what he had committed, thought it was somebody that knew him and have him taken up, he turned there- upon pale, and started ; the Woman observing his Surprise, said. Sir, / beg yoiir Pardon, I took yoti for one Mr. Johnson of Hull, m.y near Relation, btit I see you are not the same Gentleman, thoitgh yoti are very like him. Anderson thereupon took Heart, walked a little Way with her, and the Woman inviting him to drink Tea at her Lodgings, he accepted it readily, and away they went together to the Bottom of Salis- bury-Court where the Woman lived. After Tea was over, so many Overtures were made that our new come Spark was easily drawn into an Amour, and Thomas Anderson, a Thief. ,305 after a considerable Time spent in Parley, it was at last agreed that he should pass for her Husband newly come from Sea ; and this being agreed on, the Landlady was called up, and the Story told in Form. The Name the Woman assumed was that of yohn- son, and Tom consequently was obliged to go by the same ; so after Corhpliments expressed on all Sides for his safe Return, a Supper was provided, and about Ten o'clock they went to Bed together. Whether anything had been put in the Drink, or whether it was only owing to the Quantity he had Drunk, he slept very sound until Eleven o'Clock in the Morning, when he was awakened by a Knocking at the Door, upon which getting up to open it, he was surprised at finding the Woman gone, and more so at see- ing the Key thrown under the Door. However, he took it up and opened it, his Landlady then delivered him a Letter, which as soon as she was gone he opened,' and found it to run in these Terms : Dear Sir, Yoic must know that for abotit three Years I have been an ttnforticnate Woman, that is, have conversed with many of your Sex, as I have done with you. I need not tell you that you made me a Present of what Money you Jiad about you last Night after the Reckon- ing over the Way at the George was paid. I told my Landlady ivhen I went out this Morning, that I was going to bring hom.e some Linen for Shirts : you had best say so too, and so you m,ay go away without Noise ; for as I owe her above Three Pounds for Lodging, 'tis Odds, but as you said last Night you were my Husband, she will put you to Trouble, and that I think would be hard, for to be sure you have X 3o6 The Life of paid dear enough for your Frolic. I hope you will forgive this Presumption, and I am yours next Time you meet me. Jane Johnson. Tom was not a little chagrined at this Accident, especially when he found that not only the Remainder of his two Guineas, but also his Mother's old Watch, and a Gold Chain and Ring was gone into the Bar- gain. However, he thought it best to take the Woman's Word, and so coming down and putting on the best air he could, he told his Landlady he hoped his Wife would bring the Linen home Time enough to go to Breakfast, and that in the meanwhile he would go to the Cofifee-House and read the News. The Woman said, it was very well, and Tom getting to the Water Side, directed them to row to the Stairs nearest to his Lodging hy Burr-Street, ruminating all the Way he went on the Accident which had befallen him. The Rumours of fonathan Wild, then in the Zenith of his Glory, had somehow or other 'reached the Ears of our North-Britain ; he thereupon men- tioned him to the Watermen, who perceiving that he was a Stranger, and hoping to get a Pot of -Drink for the Relation, obliged him with the best Account they were able of Mr. Wild and his Proceedings. As soon therefore as Anderson came home, he put the other two Guineas in his Pocket, and over he came in a Coach to the Old-Bailey, where Mr. Wild had just then set up his Office. Mr. Anderson, being in- troduced in Form, acquainted him in good blunt Scotch how he had lost his Money and his Watch. yonathan used him very civilly, and promised his utmost Diligence in recovering it. Tom being wil- ling to save Money, enquired of him his Way home by Land on Foot, and having received Instructions Thomas Anderson, a Thief. 307 he set out accordingly. About the Middle of Cheap- side a well dressed Gentleman came up to him : Friend, says he, / have heard you ask five or six People as I followed you your Way to Burr-Street ; / am going thither, and so if you II walk along with me it will save you labour of asking farther Questions. Tom readily accepted the Gentleman's Civility, and so on they trudged until they came within twenty Yards of the Place, and into Toins knowledge. Young Man, then says the Stranger, since T have shown you the Way horns, you, must not' refuse drink- ing a Pint with m,e at a Tavern hard by of my Ac- quaintance. No sooner were they entered and sat down, but a third Person was introduced to their Company, as an Acquaintance of the former. A good Supper was provided, and when they had drank about a Pint of Wine apiece, says the Gentleman who brought him thither to Anderson, yoit seem an understanding young Fellow ; I fancy your Circum- stances are not the best ; come, if you have a tolerable Head and any Courage, T II put yoit in a Way to live as easy as you can wish. Tom pricked up his Ears upon this Motion, and told him, that truly as to his Circumstances he had guessed very right, and hoped he would be so good as to put him into any Road of living like a Gentleman, {for to say Truth, Sir, it was with that View I left my own Country to come up to London). Well spoken, my Lad, says the other, and like a Gentleman thou shall live ; but hark ye, are you well acquainted with the Men of Quality Families about Aberdeen. Yes, Sir, says he. Well, then, re- plied the Stranger, do you know none of them who has a Son about your Age. Yes, yes, replied Tom, my Lord J — — sent his eldest to our Colleges at Aberdeen 3o8 The Life of to be bred, and he and I are much alike, and not above te7t Days' Differenee in our Ages. Why then, replied the Spark, it will do ; and heres to your Honours Health. Come, from this Time forwards, you are the Honourable Mr. , Son and Heir Apparent to the Right Honourable the Lord . To make the Story short, these Sharpers equipped him hke the Person they put him upon the Town to be ; and lodging him at a Scotch Merchant's House who was in the Secret, with no less than three Footmen all in proper Livery to attend him, they in the Space of ten Days' time took up Effects upon his Credit to the Amount of a Thousand Pounds. Tom was cunning enough to lay his Hands on a good Diamond Ring, two Suits of Clothes, and a handsome Watch ; and improving mightily from a Fortnight's Conversation with these Gentlemen, he foresaw the Storm would quickly begin. The News of his arrival under the Name he had assumed having been in the Papers a Week, to prevent what might happen to himself, he sent his three Footmen on different Errands, and made up his Clothes and some Holland Shirts into a Bundle, called a Coach and drove off to Burr-Street, where having taken the Remainder of his Things that had been there ever since his coming to Town, he bid the Fellow drive him to the House of a Person near St. Catherine's, to whom he had known his Mother direct Letters when in Scotland. Yet re- collecting in the Coach that by the means he might be discovered by his Relations, he called to the Coachman before he reached there ; and remember- ing an Inn in Holborn which he had heard the Scotch Merchant speak of, where he had lodged in his last Adventure, bid the Fellow drive thither, saying, he Thomas Anderson, a Thief. 309 was afraid to be out late, and if he made haste he would give him a Shilling. When he came thither and had had his two Portmanteaus carried into the Inn, pretending to be very sick, he went imme- diately up Stairs to Bed, having first ordered a Pint of Wine to be burnt, and brought up Stairs, reflecting in the Night on the Condition he was in, and the Consequence of the Measures he was taking. He at length resolved with himself to abandon his ill Courses at once, and try to live honestly in some Plantation of the West Indies. These Meditations kept him pretty much awake, so that it was late in the Morn- ing before he arose. Having ordered Coffee for his Breakfast, he gave the Chamberlain a Shilling to go and fetch the Newspapers, where the first Thing he saw was an Account of his own Cheat in the Body of the Paper, and an Advertisement with a Reward for apprehending him at the End of it This made him very uneasy, and the rather because he had no Clothes but those which he had taken up as aforesaid. He ordered the Chamberlain to send for ^a Tailor, and pretended to be so much indisposed that he could not go out. When the Tailor came, he directed him to make him a Riding Suit with all the Expedition he could. The Tailor promised it him in two Days' Time. The next Day, pretending to be still worse, he sent the Chamberlain to take a Place for him in the Bristol Coach, which being done, he removed himself and his Things early in the Morning to the Inn where it lay, and set out the next Day undis- covered for Bristol. In three Days after his arrival, he met with a Captain bound for the West Indies, with whom having agreed for a Passage, they set sail for Jamaica ; but 3IO The Life of a fresh Gale at Sea accidentally damaging their Rud- der, they were obliged to come to an Anchor in Cork, where the Captain himself and several other Passen- gers went on Shore. Anderson accompanied him to the Coffee-House, where calling for the Papers that last came in, he had liked to have swooned at the Table on finding himself to be again mentioned to have been discovered at Bristol, and to have sailed in such a Ship the Day before the Persons came down to apprehend him, in order to his being carried back to London. As soon as he came a little to him- self, he stepped up to the Man of the House and asked him for the Vault, which being shewn him, he immediately threw the Paper down, and as soon as he came out, finding the Captain ready to go, he ac- companied him with great Satisfaction on board again, where things being set to rights, by the next Day at Ten o'Clock, they sailed with a fair Wind, and without any farther cross Accident arrived safe at faniaica. Here Tovi had the good Luck to pick up a Woman with a tolerable Fortune ; and in about three Years after remitted about ^300 home to the Jeweller, who had been defrauded of the Watch and Ring, and directed him to pay what was over, after deducting his own Debt, to the People who had trusted him with other Things, and who upon his going off recovered most of them, and by this means obtained a tolerable Satisfaction. He resided in the West Lndies for about five Years in all, and in that Time, by his own Industry acquired a very hand- some Fortune of his own, and therewith returned to Scotland. I should be very glad if this Story would incline some People who have got Money in not much honester ways, though perhaps less dangerous, Thomas Anderson, la; Thief. 311 to endeavour at extenuating the Crimes they have been guilty of, by making such Reparation as in their Power, by which at once they may atone for their Fault and regain their lost Reputation ; but I am afraid this Advice may prove both unsuccessful and unseasonable, and therefore shall proceed in my Nar- rations, as the Course of those Memoirs I have direct me. The Life of Joseph Picken, a Highwayinan. IHERE cannot perhaps be a greater Misfor- tune to a Man than his having a Woman of ill Principles about him, whether as a Wife or otherwise. Women when they once lay aside Principles either of Modesty or Honesty, become commonly the most abandoned, and as their Sex renders them capable of seducing, so their Vices tempt them often to persuade Men to such Crimes, as otherwise perhaps they would never have thought of. This was the Case of the Malefactor, the Story of whose Misfortunes we are now to relate, foseph Picken, was the Son of a Tailor in Clerkenwell, who worked hard at his Employment, and took Pleasure in Nothing but providing for and bringing up his Family. This unhappy Son yoseph was his Darling, and Nothing grieved him so much upon his Death- bed as the Fears of what might befall him, being then an Infant of five Years Old. However his Mother though a Widow, took so much Care of his Educa- tion, that he was well enough instructed for the 312 The Life of Business she designed him, viz., that of a Vintner, to which Profession he was bound, at ia noted Tavern near Billingsgate. He served his Time very faith- fully and with great Approbation, but falling in Love, or to speak more properly, taking a whim of Marriage in his Head, he accepted of a young Woman in the Neighbourhood as his Partner for Life, soon after which, he removed to Windsor, where he took the Tap at a well accustomed hi7i, and began the World in a way of ably doing well. However, partly through his own Mismanagement, and partly through the Extravagance of his Wife, he found himself in a little more than a Twelve Months' Time, thirty Pounds in Debt, and he in no likelihood from his Trade of getting Money to pay it. This made him very me- lancholy, and Nothing added so great Weight to his Load of Affliction, as the Uneasiness he was under at the Misfortunes which might befall his Wife, to whom as yet this fall in his Circumstances was not known. However, fearing it would be too soon discovered in another way, at last he mentioned it to her, at the same time telling her that she must retrench in her Expenses, for he was now so far from being able to support them, that he could hardly get his Family Bread. Her Mother and she thereupon removed to a Lodging, where by the side of the Bed, poor Picken used to slumber upon the Boards, heavily disconsolate with the Weight of his Misfortunes. One Day after talking of them to his Wife, he said, / am now quite at my Wits End, I have no way left to get anything to support us ; what shall I do ? Do, answered she, why what should a Man do that wants Money, and has any Courage 'f go upon the Highway ! The poor Joseph Picken, a Highwayman. 313 Man, not knowing how else to gain anything, took her Advice, and recollecting a certain Companion of his, who had once upon a Time offered the same Ex- pedient for relieving their joint Misfortunes, Picken thereupon found him out,, and without saying it was his Wife's Proposal, pretended that his Sorrows had at last so prevailed upon him, that he was resolved to repair the Injuries of Fortune, by taking away Some- thing from those whom she had used better than him. His Comrade unhappily addicted himself still to his old Way of thinking, and instead of dissuading him from his Purpose, seemed pleased that he had taken such a Resolution, and told him, that for his Part he always thought Danger rather to be chosen than Want, and that while Soldiers hazarded their Lives in War for Sixpence a Day, he thotcght it was Cowardice made a Man starve, where he had a Chance of getting so m,^^ch m-ore than those who hazarded as much as they did. Accordingly Picken and his Companion pro- vided themselves that Week with all necessaries for their Expedition, and going upon it in the beginning of the next, set out and had Success; as they called it, in two or three Enterprises, but returning to London in the End of the Week, they were apprehended for a Robbery committed on one Charles Cooper, on Finchley-Common ; for which they were tried the next Sessions, and both Capitally convicted. Joseph Picken, through fear of Death and want of Necessaries, fell into a low and languishing State of Health, under which, however, he gave all the Signs of Penitence and Sorrow for the Crimes he had com- mitted that could be expected. Yet though he loaded his Wife with the Weight of all his Crimes, he for- bore any harsh or shocking Reproaches against her. 314 The Life of saying only, that as she had brought him into all the Miseries he 7tow felt, so she had left him to bear the Weight of them alone, without either ever coming near him,, or affording him, any Assistance. However, he said, he was so well satisfied of the Multitude of his own Sins, and the Need he had of forgiveness from God, that he thought it a small Condition to forgive her, which he did freely from, his Heart. In these Sentiments he took the holy Sacrament, and continued with great Calmness to wait the Execution of his Sentence. In the passage to Execution, and even at the fatal Tree, he behaved himself with Quietness and Resignation, and though he appeared much less fearful than any of those who died with him, he parted with Life almost as soon as the Cart was drawn away. He was about twenty- two years of Age, or somewhat more, at the time he suffered, which was on the 24th of February, 1724-5, much pitied by the Spectators, and much lamented by those that knew him. g'g' COO^O^ C The Life of Thomas Packer, a Highwayman. \HOMAS PACKER,xh& Companion of the last named Criminal, both in his Crimes and in his Punishment, was the Son of very honest and reputable Parents, not far from Newgate-Street. His Father gave him a competent Education, designing always to put him in a Trade, and as soon as he was fit for it, placed him accord- ingly with a Vintner at Greenwich. There he served Thomas Packer, « Highwayman. 315 for some Years, but growing out of Humour with the Place, he made continual appeals to his Friends to be removed. They, willing and desirous to comply with the young Man's Humours, at length after re- peated Solicitations prevailed with his Master to consent, and then he was removed to another Tavern in Town, where he completed his Time ; but ever ' after being of a rambling Disposition, he was con- tinually changing Places and never settled. Amongst those in which he lived, there was a Tavern towards the New Buildings, where he had resided as a Drawer for about Six Weeks. Here he got into the Ac- quaintance of a Woman, handsome indeed, but of no Fortune and little Reputation. His Affection for this Woman, and the Money he spent on her, was the chief Occasion of those Wants which prevailed upon him to join with Picken in those Attempts which were fatal to them both. It cannot indeed be said that the Woman in any Degree excited him to such Practices ; on the contrary, the poor Creature really endeavoured by every Method she could to procure Money for their Support, and did all that in her lay, while Packer was under his Misfortunes, to prevent the Necessities of this Life from hindering him in that just Care which was necessary to secure his Interest in that which was to come. Packer was in himself a Lad of great good Nature, and not with- out just Principles if he had been well improved ; but the rambling Life he had led, and his tender Affection for the before-mentioned Woman, led him into great Crimes rather than he would see her sus- tain Want. The Reflection which he conceived his Death would bring upon his Parents, and the Miseries which he dreaded it would draw upon his Wife and 3i6 The Life of Child, seemed to press him heavier than any Appre- hensions for himself of his own Sufferings, which from the Time of his Commitment he bore with the greatest Patience, and improved to the utmost of his Power. As he was sensible there were no Hopes of remaining in this World, he immediately removed his Thoughts, his Wishes and his hopes from thence, applied himself seriously to his Devotions, and never Suffered even the Woman, whom he so much loved, to interfere or hinder them in any Degree. As it had been his first Week of Robbing, and his last too, he had little Confession to make in that Respect ; he acknowledged however the Facts which they had done in that Space, and seemed to be heartily Peni- tent, ashamed and sorry for his Offences. At the place of Execution he behaved with the same De- cency which accompanied him through all the sor- rowful Stations of his sad Condition. He was asked whether he would say anything to the People, but he declined it, though he had a Paper in his Hand which he had designed to read, which for the Satis- faction of the Public, I have thought fit to annex. The Paper left by Thomas Packer. Good People, I see large Numbers of you assembled here, to behold a m,iserable End of us, whom- the Law Condemns for our Offence to Death, and for the Sake of giving you warning, makes us in otir last moments public Spec- tacles. I su-bmit with the utmost Resignation to the Stroke of the Law, and I heartily pray Almighty God, that the sight of m.y shameful Death may inspire every 07te of you with lasting Resohitions of leading an honest life. The Facts for which both Picken and Thomas Packer, a Highwayman, 317 / die, were really committed by us, and consequently the Sentence under which we suffer is very just ; let me then Press ye again, that the warnings of otir Deaths may not be in vain, but that you will remem,ber our Fate,and by urging that against your depraved Wishes, prevent following in our Steps, which is all I have to say. Thomas Packer. He was about twenty years of Age at the time he suffered, which was with the before-mentioned Male- factor at Tyburn, much pitied by all the Spectators. coO'OO^ coc<:^c<3 6 ^oc<:^ e^o cov!3'g^^^ The Life of Thomas Bradley, a Street Robber. INE must want Humanity and be totally void of that Tenderness which denominates both a Man and a Christian, if we feel not some kind of Pity for those who are brought to a violent and shameful Death, from a sudden and rash Act, excited either by Necessity, or through the frailty of human Nature, sinking under Misfortune, or hurried into Mischief by a sudden Transport of Passion. I am persuaded, therefore, that the greater Part, if not all of my Readers, will feel the same Emotions of Tenderness and Compassion for the miserable Youth of whom I am now going to Speak. Thomas Bradley, was the Son of an Officer in the Custom House at Liverpool. The Father took care of his Education himself, and having qualified him for a seafaring business, in Reading and Writingj placed him therein. He came up accordingly with 3i8 The Life of the Master of a Vessel to Loiidon, where some Mis- fortunes befalhng- the said Master, Thomas was turned out of his Employment and left to shift for himself. Want pinched him ; he had no Friends, nor anybody to whom he might apply to for Relief, and in the Anguish with which his Sufferings oppressed him, he unfortunately resolved to steal rather than submit to starving or to beg. One Fact he committed, but would never be prevailed on to mention the Time, the Person, or the Place. The Robbery for which he was condemned, was upon a Woman, carrying another Woman's Riding-hood home which she had borrowed, and he assaulting her on the Highway took it from her. It was valued at 25^-. Upon this he was capi- tally convicted at the next Sessions at the Old Bailey. He could never be prevailed on by a Person who visited him to write to his Friends to apply for a Pardon ; on the contrary, he said, it was his greatest Grief that notwithstanding all he could do to stifle it, the News would reach his Father and break his Heart. He was told that such Thoughts were better omitted, than suffered to disturb him, when he was on the Point of going to another, and if he repented tho- . roughly, to a better Life. At which he sighed and said, their Reasoning was very right, and he would comply with it if he could ; and from that Time ap- peared more composed and cheerful, and resigned to his Fate. This Temper he preserved to the Time of his Execution, and died with as much Courage and Penitence as is ever seen in any of those unhappy Persons who suffer at the same Place. At the Time of his Death he was not quite nineteen Years of Age. He died between the last mentioned Male- factor and him whose Life we are next to relate. William Lipsat, a Private Thief. 319 The Life of William Lipsat, a Private Thief \ILLIAM LIPSAT ^zs the Son of a Per- son at Dublin in very tolerable Circum- stances, which he strained to the utmost to give this Lad an Education, which when he had acquired, he sent him to an Uncle of his at Stockden, Worcestershire, where he lived with more Indulgence than even when at home. His Uncle having no Children, behaved to him with all the Tenderness of a Parent. However, on some little Difference, the Boy having long had an Inclination to see this great City of London, he took that Occasion to go away from his Uncle, and accordingly came up to Town, and was employed in the Service of one Mr. Kelway, where he had not been long before he received a Letter from his Father, entreating him to return to Dublin with all the Speed he was able. This Letter being soon followed by another, which not only desired, but commanded him, to come back to Ireland, he was not troubled at thinking of the Voyage and going home to his Friends, but he was very desirous of carrying Money over with him to make a Figure amongst his Relations, which not knowing how to get, he at last bethought himself of stealing it from a Place in which he knew it lay. After several struggles with himself, Vanity prevailed, and he accordingly went and took away the Things, viz., 57 Guineas and a Half, 25 Carolus's, 5 facobus's, 3 Moidores, six Pieces of Silver, and two Purses 320 The Life of valued at twelve Pence. These as he said, would have made his Journey pleasant and his Reception welcome, which was the Reason he took them. The Evidence was very clear and direct against him, so that the Jury found him guilty without Hesitation. From the Time of his Condemnation to the Day he died, he neither affected to extenuate his Crime, or reflect as some are apt to do on the Cruelty of the Prosecutor's Witnesses, or the Court that condemned him. So far from it, he always acknowledged the Justice of his Sentence, seemed grieved only for the Greatness of his Sin, and the Affliction of the Punish- ment of it would bring upon his Relations, who had hitherto born the best of Characters, though by his Failing they were now like to be stigmatised with the most infamous Crimes. However since his Grief came now too late, he resolved as much as he was able to keep such Thoughts out of his Head, and apply himself to what more nearly concerned him, and for which all the little Time he had was too short ; in a Word, in his Condition none ever behaved with more Gravity, or to outward Appearance with more Penitence than this Criminal did. He suffered with the same Resignation which had appeared in every thing he did from the time of his condemnation, on the ist of February, 1724-5, with the before-mentioned Malefactors, being then scarce eighteen Years of Age. John Hewlet, « Murderer. 321 The Life of John Hewlet, a Murderer. jHERE are several Facts which have hap- pened in the World, the Circumstances attending which, if we compare them as they are related by one or other, we can hardly fix in our own Mind any Certainty of Belief concern- ing them, such an Equality is there in the Weight of the Evidence of one Side and of the other. Such, at the Time it happened, was the Case of the Male- factor before us. John Hewlet, born in Warwick- shire, the Son of Richard Hewlet, a Butcher ; and though not bred up with his Father, yet bred to the same Employment at Leicester, from which malicious People said, he acquired a bloody and barbarous Dis- position. However, he did not serve his Time out with his Master, but being a strong sturdy young Fellow, and hoping for some extraordinary Prefer- ment in the Army, he with that View engaged him- self in the First Regiment of Guards during the Reign of the late King William. In the War he gained the Reputation of a very brave but a very cruel and rough Fellow ; and therefore though relied on by his Officers, never liked by them. Persons of a similar Disposition generally live on good Terms with one another ; Hewlet found out a Corporal one Bhint, much of the same H umour with himself, never pleased when in Safety, nor afraid though in the midst of Danger. At the Siege of Namur mFlanders, these Fellows happened to be both in the Trenches, 322 The Life of when the Fi^ench made a desperate Sally, and" were beat off at last with much Loss, and in such Con- fusion that their Pursuers lodged themselves in one of the Outworks, and had like to have gained an- other, in the Attack of which a young Cadet of the Regiment in which Bhint served was killed. Blunt, observing it, went to the Commanding Officer, and told him, that the Cadet had nineteen Pistols in his Pocket, and it was a Shame the French should have them. Why that's true Corporal, said the Colonel, but I don't see at present how we can help it. No ! replied Blunt, give me but Leave to go and search his Pockets, and I'll answer for bringing the Money back. Why, Fool, said the Colonel, dost thoti not see the Place covered with French, who, should a Man stir from hence, would pour a whole Shower of small Shot upon him ? I'll venttcre that, says Blunt, btit how will you know the Body ? added the Colonel ; / am afraid we have left a Score besides him behind us. Why look ye. Sir, said the Corporal, let us have no m.ore Objections, and I'll answer that ; he was clapped, good Colonel, do you see, and that to some ptirpose ; so that if I can't know him by his Face, I m,ay know him iy somewhat else. Well, said the Colonel, if you have a Mind to be knocked on the Head, and take it ill to be denied, you, must go I think ; on which Blunt, wait- ing for no further Orders, marched directly in the midst of the Enemy's Fire to the dead Bodies, which lay within ten Yards of the Muzzle of their Pieces, and turning over several of the dead Bodies, he dis- tinguished that of the Cadet's, and brought away the Prize for which he had so fairly ventured. This Action put Hewlet on his Mettle ; he resolved to do something that might equal it. An Opportunity John Hewlet, « Murderer. 323 offered some time after, of performing such a Service as no Man in the Army would have undertaken. It happened thus : the Engineer who was to set Fire to the Train of a Mine, which had been made under a Bastion of the Enemy's, happened to have drank very hard over Night, and mistaking the. Hour, laid the Match an Hour sooner than he ought. A sen- tinal immediately as he came out, called out aloud, what have you clapped Fire to the Train ? There s twenty People in the Mine, who will be all blown ^lp. It should not have been fired till 12 d Clock. Hew let on hearing this, ran in with his Sword drawn, and therewith cut off the Train a Moment before it would have given Fire to all the Barrels of Powder that were within, by which he saved the Lives of all the Pioneers who were carrying the Mines still forward, at the Time the wild Fire was unseasonably lighted by the Engineer. At the Battle of Landau, he had his Skull broke by the Blow of the Butt-end of a Musket. This occasioned his going through the Operation called the Trepan, which is performed by an Engine not unlike a Coffee-Mill, which being fixed on the bruised Part of the Bone, is turned round, and cuts out all the black, till the Edges appear white and sound. After this Cure had been performed upon him, he never had his Senses in the same manner he had before, but upon the least drinking he fell into Passions which were but very little removed from Madness. He returned into England sSto-r the Peace of Reswick, and being taken into a Gentle- man's Service, he there married a Wife, by whom he had nine Children. Happy was it for them that they were all dead before his disastrous End. How Hewlet came to be employed as a Watchman 324 The Life of a little before his Death, the Papers I have give me no Account of, only that he was in that Station at the Time of the Death of Joseph Candy, for whose Murder he was indicted, for giving him a mortal Bruise on the Head with his Staff. On the 26th of December, lyz^., upon full Evidence of Eye-Witnesses, the Jury found him Guilty, he making no other De- fence than great Asseverations of his Innocence, and an obstinate Denial of the Fact. After his Convic- tion, being visited in the Condemned Hole, instead of showing any Marks of Penitence or Contrition, he raved against the Witnesses who had been produced to destroy him, called them all perjured, and prayed God to inflict some dreadful Judgment on them. Nay, he went so far as to desire that he himself might have the executing thereof, wishing that after his Death his Apparition might come and terrify them to their Graves. When it was represented to him how odd this Behaviour was, and how far distant from that Calmness and Tranquillity of Mind, with which it became him to Clothe himself before he went into the Presence of his Maker, these Representa- tions had no Effect ; he still continued to rave against his Accusers, and against the Witnesses who had sworn at his Trial. As Death grew nearer, he ap- peared not a bit terrified, nor seemed uneasy at all at leaving this Life, only at leaving his Wife, and as he Phrased it, some old Acquaintance in Warwick- shire. However he desired to receive the Sacra- ment,, and said he would prepare himself for it as well as he could. He went to the Place of Execution in the same Manner in which he had passed the Days of his Cony finement till that Time. At Tyburn, he was not John Hewlet, « Mtirderer. 325 satisfied with protesting his Innocence to the People, but designing to have one of the Prayer Books which was made use of in the Cart, he kissed it as People do when they take Oaths, and then again turning to the Mob, declared as he was a dying Man, he never gave Candy a blow in his Life. Thus with many Ejaculations he gave way to Fate in an advanced Age at Tybtirn, at the same Time with the Male- factors last mentioned. The Lives 4^ Life of James White, a Private Thief. jTUPIDITY, however it may arise, whether from a Natural Imperfection of the rational Faculties, or from want of Education, or from drowning it wholly in bestial and sensual Pleasures, is doubtless one of the highest Misfortunes, which can befall any Man whatsoever ; for it not only leaves him little better than the Beast which perish, exposed to a thousand Inconveniences against which there is no Guard but that of clear and unbiassed Reason, but it renders him also base and abject, when under Misfortunes, the Sport and Con- tempt of that wicked and debauched Part of the human Species, who are apt to scoff at dispairing Misery, and to add by their Insults to the Miseries of those who sink under their Load already. y antes White, who is to be the subject of the fol- lowing Narration, was the Son of very honest and very reputable Parents, though their Circumstances were so mean as not to afford wherewith to put their Son to School ; and they were so careless as not to procure his Admission into the Charity School, by which it happened that the poor Fellow knew hardly anything better than the Beasts of the Field, and addicted himself, like them, to filling his Belly, and satisfying his Lust. Whenever therefore either of those Brutish Appetites called him, he never scrupled plundering to obtain what might supply the first, or James White, a Private Thief. 345 to use force that might oblige Women to submit against their Wills unto the other. While he was a mere Boy, and worked about as he could with anybody who would employ him, he found a Way to steal and carry off thirty Pounds' Weight of Tobacco, the Property of Mr. Perry, an eminent Virginia Merchant, and for which he was at the ensuing Assizes at the Old Bailey tried and con- victed, and thereupon ordered for Transportation, and in pursuance of that Sentence sent on board the Transport Vessel accordingly. Their Allowance there was very poor, such as the Miserable Wretches could hardly subsist on, viz., a Pint and a half of fresh Water, and a very small Piece of Salt Meat per Diem each ; but that wherein their greatest Misery consisted, was the Hole in which they were locked underneath the Deck, where they were tied two and two, in order to prevent those Dangers which the Ship's Crew often runs, by the Attempts made by Felons to escape. In this disconsolate Condition he passed his time until the Arrival of- the Ship in America, where he met with a Piece of good Luck, if attaining Liberty may be called good Luck with- out acquiring at the same time a Means to preserve Life in any Comfort. It happened thus : The Super- cargo falling sick, under the usual Distemper which visits Strangers at first coming, if they keep not to the exactest Rules of Temperance and Forbearance of strong Liquors, ran quickly so much in Debt with his Physician, that he was obliged immediately to go off; by doing which, fix Felons became their own Masters, of whom jfames White w2l.s one. He retired into the Woods, and lived there in a very wretched Manner for some time, till he met with some Indian 346 The Life of Families in that Retreat, who according to the natural uncultivated Humanity of that People cherished and relieved him to the utmost of their Power. Soon after this, he went to work amongst some English Servants, in order to ease them, telling them how things stood with him, viz., that he had been trans- ported, and that for fear of being seized he fled into the Woods, where he had endured the greatest Hard- ships. The Servants pityiijg; liis desperate Condition relieved him often, withotit the Knowledge of their Mistress until they got him into a Planter's Service, where though he worked hard he was sure to fare tolerably well. But at length being ordered to carry Water in large Vessels over the Rocks to the Ship that rode in the Bay underneath it, his Feet were thereby so intolerably cut, that he was soon rendered lame and incapable of doing it any longer. The Family thereupon grew weary of keeping him in that decrepit State he was in, and so for what servile Scullion-like Labour he was able to do, a Master of a Ship took him on board and carried him to England. On his Return hither, he went directly to his Friends in Cripplegate Parish, and told them what had befallen him, and how he was driven home again almost as much by force as he was hurried abroad. They were too poor to be able to conceal him, and he was therefore obliged to go and cry Fruit about the Street publicly, that he might not want Bread. He went on in this mean but honest enough Way, without committing any new Facts, that I am able to learn for the Space of some Months, when being seen and known by some who at that time were em- ployed, or at least employed themselves, in detecting James White, a Private Thief. 347 and taking up all such Persons as returned from Transportation, White amongst the Rest was seized, and at the ensuing Sessions at the Old-Bailey con- victed on that Statute, and pleaded only that he was a very young Man, and if the Court would have so much Pity on him as to send him over again, he would be satisfied to stay all his Lifetime in America. But the Resolution which had been taken to spare none who returned back to England, because such Persons were more bloody and dangerous Rogues than any other, and prompted by Despair, apt to re- sist the Officers of Justice, caused him to be put into the Death- Warrant. Both before and after receiving Sentence, he not only abandoned himself to a stupid heedless In- dolence, but behaved in so rude and troublesome a Manner, as occasioned his being complained of by those miserable Wretches who were under the same Condemnation as a greater Grievance to thon tTian all their other Misfortunes put to^gatier. He would sometimes threaten modest Women who came into the. Hole to visit, tease them with obscene Discourse, and after his b)eing Prisoner there committed Acts of Lewdness to the Amazement and Horror of the most wicked and abandoned Wretches in that dreadful Place. Being however severely Reprimanded for continuing so beastly a Course of Life, when Life itself was no near being extinguished, he laid the Crime to his own ignorance, and said, if he were better instructed he would behave better, but could not bear being abused, threatened, and even maltreated by those who were in the same State with himself. From this Time he addicted himself to attend more carefully to religious Discourses than most of the 348 The Life of Rest, and as far as the amazing Dulness of his In- tellect would give him leave, applied to the Duties of his sad State. Before his Death he gave many Testimonies of a sincere and unaffected Sorrow for his Crimes, but as he had not the least Notion of the Nature, Efficacy, or Preparation necessary for the Sacrament, it was not given him as is usually done to Malefactors on the Day of their Death. At the Place of Execution he seemed to be surprised and astonished, looked wildly round upon the People, and then asking the Minister who attended him, what he must now do ? The Person spoke to instructed him, and shutting his Hands close, cried out with great Vehemence, Lord receive my Soul. His age was about twenty-five at the time he suffered, which was on the 6th Day of November, 1723. The Life of Joseph Middleton, a Housebreaker and Private Thief. |M O N GS T the numbers of unhappy Wretches who perish at the Gallows, there seems most Pity to be due to those who pressed by Want and Necessity, commit in the bitter Exigencies of starving, some illegal Act, purely to support Life. But this is a very scarce Case, and such a one as I cannot in Strictness presume to say, I have hitherto met with in all the Loads of Papers I have turned over to this Purpose, though as the Joseph Middleton, a Thief, &c. 349 best Motive to excite Compassion, and consequently to bbtain Mercy, it is made very often a Pretence. yoseph Middleton was the Son of a very poor though honest labouring Man, in the County of Kent, near Deptford, who did all that was in his Power to bring up his Children. This unfortunate Son being taken off his Hands by an Uncle, a Gardener, who brought the Boy up to his own Business, and conse- quently to labour hard enough, which would to an understanding Person appear no such very great Hardship, where a Man had continually been inured to it even from his Cradle, and had neither Capacity nor the least probability of attaining anything better, yet such an intolerable thing did it seem to Middleton, that he resolved at any rate to be rid of it, and to purchase an easier way of spending his Days. In order to this, he very wisely chose to go on board a Man of War then bound for the Baltic. He was in himself a stupid clumsy Fellow, and the Officers and Seamen in the Ship treated him so harshly, the fatigue he went through was so great, and the Coldness of the Climate so pinching to him, that he who so impatiently wished to be rid of the Country Work, now as earnestly desired to return thereto ; and therefore when on the Return of Sir yohn N orris, the Ship he was in was paid off and discharged, he was in extasy of Joy thereat, and im- mediately went down again to settle hard to Labour, as he had done before. Experience having convinced him, that there were much more Hardships sustained in one short Ramble, than in a laborious Life. In order, as is the common Phrase, to settle in the World, he married a poor Woman, by whom he had two Children, and thereby made her as unhappy as 350 The Life of himself; for what he was able to earn by his Hands falling much short of what was necessary to keep House in the Way he lived, this reduced him to such Narrowness of Circumstances, that he was obliged as he would have it believed, to take illegal Methods for Support. His own blockish and dastardly Temper, as it had prevented his ever doing Good in any honest Way, so it as effectually put it out of his Power to acquire anything considerable by the Rapine he committed ; for as he wanted Spirit to go into a Place where there was immediate Danger, so his Companions who did the Fact while he scouted about to see if anybody was coming, and to give them Notice, when they divided the Booty gave him just what they thought fit, and kept the Rest to themselves. He had gone on in this miserable Way for a considerable Space, and yet was able to acquire very little, his Wants being very near as great while he robbed every Night as they were when he laboured every Day, so that in the Exchange he got nothing but Danger into the Bargain. At last being apprehended for breaking into the House of John de Pais and Joseph Gamer con, and there taking Jewels and other things to a great Value, he thought his Innocence in not entering the Place, would sufficiently excuse him in the Fact ; for he pleaded at his Trial, that he was so far from break- ing the House, that he was not so much as on the Ground of the Prosecutor when it was broke, but on the contrary, as appeared by their own Evidence, on the other side of the Way. But it being very fully proved by the Evidence, that Joseph Middleton be- longed to the Gang, that he waited there only to give Joseph Middleton, « Thief, &c. 351 them Intelligence, and shared in the Money they took, the Jury found him guilty. While he lay under Conviction, he did his utmost Endeavour to understand what was necessary for him to do in order to Salvation ; he applied himself with utmost Diligence to praying God to instruct and enlighten his Understanding, that he might be able to improve by his Sufferings and reap a Benefit from the Chastisements of his Maker. In this Frame of Mind he continued with great Steadiness and Calm- ness till the Time of his Execution, at which he showed some Fear and Confusion, as the Sight of such a Death is apt to create, even in the stoutest and best prepared Breast. This Joseph Middleton at the time of his Exit, was in about the fortieth Year of his Age. The Life of John Price, a Housebreaker. PROFLIGATE Life naturally terminates in Misery, and according to the Vices which it has most pursued, so are its Punishments suited to it. Drunkennesshft^ots the Under- standing, ruins the Constitution, and leaves those addicted to it in the last Stages of Life, in Want and Misery, equally destitute of all Necessaries, and in- capable to procure them. Lewdness and Lust after loose Women, enervates both the Vigour of the Brain and Strength of the Body, induces Weaknesses that anticipate old Age, and afflict the declining Sin- ner with so many Evils, as makes him a Burden to 352 77^1? Life of himself, and a Spectacle to others. But if for the Support of all these, Men fall into rapacious and wicked Courses, plundering others who have frugally provided for the supply of Life, in order to indulge their own wicked Inclinations, then indeed the Law of Society interposes generally before the Law of Nature, and cuts off with a sudden and ignominious Death, those who would otherwise probably have fallen by the Fruits of their own Sins. This Male- factor John Price, was one of these wretched People, who act as if they thought Life was given them only to commit Wickedness, and to Satiate their several Appetites with gross Impunities, without considering how far they offend, either against the Institutions of God' or the Laws of the Land. It does not appear that this Fellow ever followed any Employment that looked like Honesty, except when he was at Sea. The Terrors of a Sick Bed alarmed even a Con- science so hardened as Prices, and the Effects of an ill-spent Life appeared so plainly in the weak Con- dition he found himself in, that he made, as he after- wards owned, the most solemn Vows of Amendment, if through the Favour of Providence he recovered his former Health. To this he was by the Goodness of God restored, but the Resolutions he made on that Condition were totally forgotten. As soon as he re- turned home, he sought afresh the Company of those loose Women and those abandoned Wretches, who by the Inconveniences into which they had formerly led him, had obliged him to seek for Shelter by a long Voyage at Sea. What litrie Money he had received when the Ship was paid off, was quickly lavished away ; so that on the nth o{ August, 1725, he with two others named John Price, a Housebreaker. 353 Cliffe and Sparks, undertook, after having well weighed the Attempt, to enter the House of the Duke of Leeds, by moving the Sash, and so plunder it of what was to be got. Cliffe accordingly, by their Assistance, got in at the Window, and afterwards handed out a Cloak, Hat, ,and other Things to his Companions, Sparks and Price, but they were all immediately ap- prehended. Cllff^e made an Information by which he discovered the whole Fact, and it was fully proved by Mr. Bealln that Price when first apprehended, owned that he had been with Cliffe and Sparks. Upon the whole the Jury found him guilty, upon which he freely acknowledged the Justice of their Verdict at the Bar. All the Time he lay under Con- viction, he behaved himself as a Person convinced of his own Unworthiness of Life, and therefore repined not at the Justice of that Sentence which condemned him to Death, though in his Behaviour before his Trial, there had appeared much of that rough and boisterous Disposition usual in Fellows of no Edu- cation who have long practised such Ways of Living. Yet long before his Death, he laid aside all that Ferocity of Mind, appearing calm and easy under the Weight of his Sufferings, and so much dissatisfied with the Trouble he had met with in the World, that he appeared scarce desirous of remaining in it. He' was not able himself to give any Account of his Age, but as far as could be guessed from his Looks, he might be about thirty when executed, which was at the same Time with the Malefactor last mentioned, Cliffe, whose Information had hanged him, being re- prieved. 2 A 354 ■ The Life of ^M_^ The Life of William Sperry, Footpad and High- wayman. jHERE is not anything more extraordinary in the Circumstances of those who from a Life of Rapine and Plunder come to its natural Catastrophe, a violent and ignomi- nious Death, than that some of them, from a Life of Piety and Religion, have on a sudden fallen into so opposite a Behaviour, and without any Stumbles in the Road of Virtue, taken as it were a Leap from the Precipice at once. This Malefactor, William Sperry, was born of Parents in very low Circumstances, who afforded him and his Brother scarcely any Education, nntil having reached the Age of fourteen Years, he, with his younger Brother before-mentioned, were both decoyed by one of the Agents for the Planta- tions, and transported to America, where they were sold for about seven Years. After the Expiration of this Term, William Sperry went to live at Phila- delphia, the Capital of Pensylvania, one of the best Plantations the English have in America. It receives its Name from William Pen, the famous Quaker, who first planted it. Here, being chiefly instigated thereto from the great Piety and unaffected Purity of Morals in which the Inhabitants of that Colony excel the greater Part of the World besides, Sperry began with the utmost Industry to endeavour at retrieving his Reading, and the Master with whom he lived favouring his Inclinations, was at great Pains and William Sperrv, a Footpad. 355 some Expense to have him taught Writing. Yet he did not swerve in his Religion, or fall into Quakerism, the predominant Sect here, but went constantly to the Church belonging to the Religion by Law estab- lished in England, read several good Books, and applied himself with much Zeal to the Service of God. Removing from the House of this his kind Master, to that of another Planter, he abated Nothing in his Zeal for Devotion, but went constantly from his Master's House to the Church at West Chester, which was near five Miles from his Home. Happen- ing not long after to have the Advantage of going in a Trading Vessel to several Ports in America, he gave himself up with great Pleasure to this new Life, but his Happiness therein, like all other Species of human Bliss, very shortly faded ; for one Morn- ing just as the Day began to dawn, the Vessel in which he sailed, was boarded, and after a very short Struggle taken, by the famous Lowe the Pirate. Sperry being a brisk young Lad, Lowe would fain have taken him into his Crew, but the Lad having still virtuous Principles remaining, earnestly entreated that he might be excused, which on the Score of his having discovered to Lowe, a mutinous Conspiracy of his Crew, the Generosity of that Pirate was so great, that finding no Offer of his could make any Impres- sion, he caused him to be set safe on Shore in the Night, on one of the Leeward L stands. Notwithstanding Sperry did not at that Time com- ply with the Instigations of the Pirate, yet his Mind was so much poisoned by the Sight of what passed on board, that he from that Time had an Itching to- wards Plunder, and a Desire of getting Money at an easier Rate than by the Sweat of his Brow. While 356 The Life of these Thoughts were floating in his Head, he was entertained on board one of his Majesty s Men of War, and while he continued in the Service, saw a Pirate Vessel taken, and the Men, being tried before a Court of Admiralty in New England, were every one of them executed except five, who manifestly appeared to have been forced into the Pirate's Ser- vice. One would have thought this would have totally eradicated all Liking to that Sort of Practice, but it seems it did not. For as soon as Sperry came home to England, and had married a Wife, by which his Inclinations were chained, though he had no Ability to support her, and falling into great Necessities, he either tempted others, or associated himself with certain loose and abandoned young Men ; for, as he himself constantly declared, he was not led into evil Practices by the Persuasions of any. However it was, the Facts he committed were many, and he became the Pest of most of the Roa,ds to the little Villages about London, particularly towards Hampstead, Islington, and Marylebone, of some of which, as our Papers serve, we shall inform you. Sperry and four more of his Associates, hearing that Gaming was very public at Hampstead, and that considerable Sums were won and lost there every Night, resolved to share part of the Winnings let them light where they would. In order to this, they planted themselves iti a dry Ditch on one Side of the Foot-road, just as Evening came on, intending when it was darker to venture into the Coach-road, They had hardly been at their Posts a Quarter of an Hour before two Officers came by. Some of them were for attacking them ; but Sperry was of a con- trary Opinion. In the Meanwhile they heard one of William Sperry, a Footpad. 357 the Gentlemen say to the other, there s D M- the Gamester, behind us ; he has won at least sixty Guineas to-night. Sperry and his Crew had no fur- ther Dispute whether they should rob the Gentlemen in Red or no, but resolved to wait the Coming of so rich a Prize. It was but a few Minutes before M— — appeared in Sight ; they immediately stepped into the Path, two before him, and two behind, and watch- ing him to the Corner of a Hedge, the two who were behind him caught him by the Shoulders, turned him round, and hurrying him about ten Yards, pushed him into a dry Ditch, which they had no sooner done, but they all four leaped down upon him. There they began to examine his Pockets. M r thought to have talked them out of a stricter Search by pre- tending he had lost a great Deal of Money at Play, and had but fifty Shillings about him, which with a Silver Watch and a Crystal Ring he seemed very ready to deliver ; and it is very probable these would have been accepted, if they had not had better Intelligence ; but one of the oldest of the Gang per- ceiving after turning out all his Pockets, that they could discover nothing of Value, he began to exert the Style of a Highwayman upon an Examina- tion, and addressed the Gamester in these Terms : Nobody but such a Rogue as you would have given Gentlemen of our Faculty so much Trouble. Sir, we have received Advice by good Hands from Bellsize, that you won sixty Guineas to-day at Play ; produce them, immediately, or we shall take it for granted you have swallowed them, and in such a Case, Sir, I have an Instrument ready to give us an immecliate Account of the Contents of your Stomach. M ■, in a dreadful Fright, put his Hand under his Arm, and 358 The Life of from thence produced a Green Purse with a fifty- pound Bank-Note, and eighteen Guineas, which they had no sooner taken, than tieing him fast to a Hedge Stake, they ran across the Fields in search of another Booty. They spun out the Time, being a Moonhght Night, until past Eleven, there being so much Com- pany on the Road that they found it impossible to attack without Danger. As they were returning home, they heard the Noise of a Coach driving very hard, and upon turning about saw it was that of Sir W B , himself in the Box, two Ladies of Pleasure in the Coach, and his Servants a great Way behind. One of them there- fore seized the Horse on one Side, and another on the other, but Sir W drove so very hard, that the Pull of the Horses brought them both to the Ground, and he at the same Time encouraging them with his Voice and the Smack of his Whip, drove safe off without any Hurt, though they fired two Pistols after him. About three Weeks after this, they were passing down Drury-Lane, and observing a Gentleman going with one of the fine Ladies of the Hundreds into a Tavern thereabouts, one of the Gang who knew him, and knew that he had mar- ried a Lady with a great Fortune to whom his Father was Guardian, and that they lived altogether in a great House near Lincoln s- 1 7in- Fields, thought on a Project immediately. They stepped into an Ale- house, while he wrote an Epistle to the old Gentle- man, informing him that they had a Warrant to ap- prehend a lewd Woman who was with Child by his Son, but that she had made her Escape, and was now actually with him at such a Tavern in Di'icry-Lane ; wherefore being apprehensive of Disturbance, and William Sperry, a Footpad. 359 being unwilling to disgrace his Family, rather than take rougher Methods, they had informed him, in order that by his Interposition the Affair might be made up. As soon as they had written this Letter, they dispatched one of their Number to carry it and to deliver it, as if by Mistake, to the young Gentle- man's Wife. This had the desired Effect, for in less than Half-an-hour came the Father, the Wife, and another of her Trustees, who happened to be paying a Visit there when the Letter came. They no soonei entered the Tavern, but hearing the Gentleman's Voice they asked for, they without Ceremony opened the Door, and finding a Woman there, all was be- lieved, and there followed a mighty Uproar. Two of the Rogues who were best dressed, had slipped into the next Room and called for half a Pint. They as if by accident came out at the Noise, and under Pretence of inquiring the Occasion, took the Oppor- tunity of picking the Gentleman's Pockets of twenty- five Guineas, one Gold Watch, and two silver Snuff- Boxes, which it is to be presumed were never missed until after the Affair was over. The last Robbery Sperry committed was upon one Thomas Golding, not far from Bromley, who not having any Money about him, Sperry endeavoured to make it up by taking all his Clothes ; for which being apprehended, at the next Sessions at the Old- Bailey, he was convicted for this Offence, and having no Friends, could not entertain the least Hopes of Pardon. From the Time therefore that he was con- victed, and indeed from that of his Commitment, he behaved like a Person on the Brink of another World, ingenuously confessing all his Guilt, and acknow- ledging readily the Justice of that Sentence by which J 60 The Life of he was doomed to Death. His Behaviour was per- fectly uniform, and as he never put on an Air of Con- tempt towards Death, so at its nearest Approach he did not seem exceedingly terrified therewith, but ^yith great Calmness of Mind prepared for his Dissolution. On the Day of his Execution his Countenance seemed rather more cheerful than ordinary, and he left this World with all exterior Signs of true Penitence and Contrition, on Monday, \}i\& 24th of May, 1725, at Tyburn, being then about twenty-three Years of Age. The Life of Robert Harpham, a Coiner. jN a former Occasion, in the Life of Barbara Spencer, I have mentioned the Laws against Coining as they stand at present in this ICingdom. I shall not therefore detain my Readers here with any unnecessary Introduction, but proceed to inform them that a Multitude of false Guineas being talked of, the natural Consequence of a few being detected, great Pains were taken by the Officers belonging to the Mint to detect those by whom such Frauds had been committed. It was not long before Information was had of one Robert Harpham. and Thomas Broom, who were suspected of being the Persons by whom such false Guineas had been made. Upon these Suspicions, Search- warrants were- granted, and a large Engine of Iron was discovered at Harpham s House, with other Tools supposed to be made use of for that Purpose. The Mob on" this Occasion immediately gave out, Robert Harpham, a Coiner. 361 that a Cart-load of Guineas had been carried from thence, because those Instruments were so cumbrous as to be fetched in that Manner ; but the Truth in- deed was, no great Number of false Guineas had been coined, though the Instruments undoubtedly were fitted and made use of for that Purpose. Harp- ham, who well knew what Evidence might be pro- duced against him, never flattered himself with Hopes after he came into Newgate, but as he believed he should die, so he prepared himself for it as well as he could. At his Trial the Evidence against him was very full and direct. Mr. Pinkney deposed flatly, that the Instruments produced in Court, and which were sworn to be taken from the Prisoner's House, could not serve for any other Use than that of Coining. These Instruments were an Iron Press of very great Weight, a cutting Instrument for forming Blanks, an Edging Tool for indenting, with two Dies for Guineas, and two Dies for half Guineas. To strengthen this, William Fordkam deposed in Relation to the Pri- soner's Possession, and Mr. Hornbey swore directly to his striking an half Guinea in his Presence. Mr. Oakley and Mr. Yardley deposed further that they had flatted very considerable Quantities of a mixed Metal for the Prisoner, made up of Brass, Copper, &c., sometimes to the Quantity of thirty or forty Pounds' Weight at a Time. The Defence he made was weak and trifling, and the Jury after a very short Consideration brought him in guilty of the Indict- ment. He never entertained any Hopes of Pardon, but bent all his Endeavours in making his Peace with God. Some Persons in the Prison had been very civil to him, and one of them presuming thereon. 362 The Life of asked him wherein the great Secret of his Art of Coining lay ? Mr. Harp/mm thanked him for the Kindnesses he had received of him, but said, that he should make a very ill Return for the time afforded him by the Law for Repentance, if he should leave behind him anything of that Kind which might farther detriment his Country. Some Instances were also made to him, that he should discover certain Persons of that same Profession with himself, who were likely to carry on the same Frauds long after his Decease. Mr. Harpham, notwithstanding the Answer he had made the other Gentleman, refused to comply with this Request, for he said, that the Instruments seized would effectually prevent that, and he wotdd not take atvay their Lives and nun their Families, when he was sure they were incapacitated from Coining anything for the Future. However that he might discharge his Conscience as far as he could, he wrote several Pathetic Letters to the Persons concerned, earnestly exhorting them for the Sake of themselves and their Families to leave off this wicked Employment, and not hazard their Lives and their Salvation in any farther Attempt of that Sort. Having thus disen- gaged himself from all wordly Concerns, he dedicated the last Moments of his Life entirely to the Service of God ; and having received the Sacrament the Day before his Execution, he was conveyed the next Noon to Tybicrn in a Sledge, where he was not a little disturbed, even in the Agonies of Death, by the Tumult, and the Insults the Mob offered to Jonathan Wild, which he complained much of and seemed very uneasy at. He suffered on the same Day with the last-mentioned Malefactor, appearing to be then about two or three and forty Years of Age. Jonathan Wild, Thief-taker. 363 The Life of the Famous Jonathan Wild, Thief- taker. I'S no Person in this Collection ever made so much Noise as he whom we are now speaking of, so never any Man perhaps in any Condition of Life whatever had so many romantic Stories fathered upon him in his Life or so many fictitious legendary Accounts pub- lished of him after his Death. It may seem a low Kind of Affectation to say, that the Memoirs we are now giving of Jonathan Wild are founded on Cer- tainty and Fact, and that though they are so founded, they are yet more extraordinary than any of those fabulous Relations pushed into the World to get a Penny at the time of his Death — a proper Season for vending such Forgeries, the Public looking with so much Attention on his Catastrophe, and greedily catching up whatever pretended to give an Account of his Actions. But to go on with the History in its proper Order. Jonathan IVildwas the Son of Persons in a mean and low State of Life, yet for all that I have ever heard of them both honest and industrious. Their Family consisted of three Sons and two Daughters, whom their Father and Mother maintained and edu- cated in the best Manner they could from their joint Labours, he as Carpenter, and she by selling Fruit in Wolverhampton Market, in Staffordshire, which in future Ages may perhaps become famous, as the 364 The Life of Birthplace of the celebrated Mr. yonathan Wild. He was the eldest of the Sons, and received as good an Education as his Father's Circumstances would allow him, being taught at the Free-School to read and write, to both of which having attained to a tolerable Degree, he was put out an Apprentice to a Buckle-Maker in Birmingham. He served his Time with much Fidelity, and came up to Town in the Service of a Gentleman of the long Robe, about the Year 1 704, or perhaps a little later ; but he, not liking his Service, or his Master not altogether so well pleased with him, he quitted it and retired again to his old Employment in the Country, where he con- tinued to work diligently for some Time. But at last, growing sick of Labour, and still entertaining a Desire of tasting the Pleasures of London, he came hither a second Time, and worked Journey-work at the Trade to which he was bred. This not producing Money enough to support the Expenses Jonathans Love of Pleasure threw him into, he got pretty deeply in Debt, and some of his Creditors not being endued with altogether as much Patience as his Circumstances required, he was suddenly arrested, and thrown into Wood- Street Compter. Having no Friends to do anything for him, and having very little in his Pocket when this Misfortune happened, he lived very hardly there, scarcely getting Bread enough to support him from the Charity allowed to Prisoners, and what little Services he could render to Prisoners of the better Sort in the Gaol. However, as no Man wanted Ad- dress less than fonathan, so nobody could have em- ployed it more properly than he did upon this Occa- sion. He thereby got so much into the Favour of the Keepers, that they quickly permitted him the Jonathan Wild, Thief -taker. 365 Liberty of the Gate, as they call it, and he thereby got some little Matter for going of Errands. This set him. above the very Pinch of Want, and that was all, but his Fidelity and Industry in these mean Em- ployments procured him such Esteem amongst those in Power there, that they soon took him into their Ministry, and appointed him an Underkeeper to those disorderly Persons who were brought in every Night, and are called, in their Cant, Rats, yonathan now came into a comfortable Subsistence, having learnt how to get Money of such People by putting them into the Road of getting Liberty for themselves. But there, says my Author, he met with a Lady who was confined on the Score of such Practices very often, and who went by the Name of Mary Milliner, and who soon taught him how to gain much greater Sums than in this Way of Life, by Methods which he until then never heard of, and will, I am confident, to this Day carry the Charms of Novelty to most of my Readers. Of these, the first she put him upon was going on what they call the Twang, which is thus managed : the Man who is the Confederate goes out with some noted Woman of the Town, and if she fall into any Broil, he is to be at a proper Distance, ready to come to her Assistance, and by making a sham Quarrel, give her an Opportunity of getting off, per- haps after she has dived for a Watch or a Purse of Guineas, and was in Danger of being caught in the very Fact. This proved a very successful Employ- ment to Mr. Wild for a Time. Moll and he therefore resolved to set up together, and for that Purpose took Lodgings and lived as Man and Wife, notwith- standing Jonathan had a Wife and a Son at Wolver- hampton, and the fair Lady was married to a 366 The Life of Waterman in Town. By the Help of this Woman, fonathan grew acquainted with all the notorious Gangs of loose Persons within the Bills of Mortality, and was also perfectly versed in the Manner by which they carried on their Schemes. He knew where and how their Enterprises were to be gone upon, and after what Manner they disposed of their ill-gotten Goods, when they came into their Possession. Wild, having always an intriguing Head, set up for a Director amongst them, and soon became so useful to them, that though he never went out upon any of their Lays, yet he got as much or more Money by their Crimes, than if he had been a Partner with them, which upon one Pretence or other he always declined. He had long ago got rid of that Debt for which he had been imprisoned in the Compter, and having by his own Thought projected a new Manner of Life, he began in a very little Time to grow weary of Mrs. Milliner, who had been his first Instructor. What probably contributed thereto were the Dangers to which he saw himself exposed, by continuing a Bully in her Service. However, they parted without fall- ing out, and as he had Occasion to make use of her pretty often in his new Way of Business, so she proved very faithful and industrious to him in it, though she still went on in her old Way. It is now Time, that both this and the remaining Part of my Discourse may be intelligible, to explain the Methods by which Thieves became the better for Thieving where they did not steal ready Money ; and of this we will now speak in the clearest and most concise Manner that we can. It must be observed, that anciently when a Thief had got his Booty, he had done all that a Man in his Jonathan Wild, Thief-taker. 367 Profession could do, and there were Multitudes of People ready to help him off, with whatever Effects he had got without any more to do ; but this Method being totally destroyed by an Act passed in the Reign of King William, by which it was made Felony for any Person to buy Goods stolen, knowing them to be so, and some Examples having been made on this Act, there were few or no Receivers to be met with, those that still carried on the Trade taking exorbitant Sums for their own Profit, and leaving those who had run the Hazard of their Necks in obtaining them the least Share in the Plunder. This (as an ingenious Author says) had like to have brought the Thieving Trade to Nought ; but Jonathan quickly thought of a Method to put things again in Order, and give new Life to the Practisers in the several Branches of that ancient Art and Mystery called Stealing. The Me- thod he took was this ; as soon as any considerable Robbery was committed, and Jonathan received In- telligence by whom, he immediately went to the Thieves, and instead of offering to buy the Whole, or any part of the Plunder, he only inquired how the Thing was done, where the Persons lived who were injured, and what the Booty consisted in that was taken away ; then pretending to chide them for their Wickedness in doing such Actions, and exhorting them to live honestly for the Future, he gave it them as his Advice, to lodge what they had taken in a proper Place which he appointed them, and then pro- mised he would take some Measures for their Secu- rity, by getting the People to give them somewhat to have them restored again. Having thus wheedled those who had committed a Robbery into a Com- pliance with his Measures, his next Business was to 368 77?^ Life of divide the Goods into several Parcels, and cause them to be sent to different Places, always avoiding taking them into his own Hands. Things being in this Position, yonathan, or Mrs. Milliner, went to the Persons who were robbed, and after condoling the Misfortune, pretended that they had an Acquaintance with a Broker, to whom certain Goods were brought, some of which they suspected to be stolen, and hear- ing that the Person to whom they thus applied had been robbed, they said they thought it the Duty of one honest Body to another, to inform them thereof, and to inquire what Goods they were they lost, in order to discover whether those they spoke of were the same or no. People who have had such Losses, are always ready after the first Fit of Passion is over, to hearken to anything that has a Tendency towards recovering their Goods. Jonathan, or his Mistress therefore, who could either of them play the Hypo- crite nicely, had no great Difficulty in making People listen to such Terms. In a Day or two therefore they were sure to come again, with Intelligence that having called upon their Friend, and looked over the Goods, they had found Part of the Things there, and provided nobody was brought into Trouble, and the Broker had Something in Consideration of his Care, they might be had again. He generally told the People when they came on this Errand, that he had heard of another Parcel at such a Place, and that if they would stay a little, he would go and see whether they were such as they described theirs to be which they had lost. This Practice of Jonathaiis, if well considered, carries in it a great deal of Policy ; for first it seemed to be a very honest and good-natured Act to prevail on evil Persons to restore the Goods Jonathan Wild; Thief-taker'. 369 which they had stole ; and it must be acknowledged to be a great Benefit to those who were robbed, thus to have their Goods again on a reasonable Premium. yonathan or his Mistress all the while took appa- rently nothing, their Advantages arising from what they took out of the Gratuity left with the Broker, and out of what they had bargained with the Thief to be allowed out of the Money which they had pro- cured him. Such People finding this Advantage in it thus, the Rewards were very near as large as the Price is now given by Receivers, since receiving be- came so dangerous, and they reaped a certain Security also by the Bargain. With Respect to Jonathan, the Contrivance placed him in Safety, not only from all the Laws then in Being, but perhaps would have secured him as effectually from those that are made now, if Covetousness had not prevailed with him to take bolder Steps than these. For in a short Time he began to give himself out for a Person who made it his Business to recover stolen Goods to their right Owners. When he first did this, he acted with so much Art and Cunning, that he acquired a very great Reputation, not only as an honest Man from those who dealt with him to procure what they had lost, but even from People of higher Station, who obser- ving the Industry with which he prosecuted certain Malefactors, took him for a Friend of Justice, and as such afforded him Countenance and Encouragement, Certain it is, that he brought more Villains to thg Gallows than perhaps any Man ever did, and conse- quently by diminishing their Number, made it much more safe for Persons to Travel, or even to reside with Security in their own Houses ; and so sensible was Jo^mthan of that Necessity there was for him tp 2 B 370 The Life of act in this Manner, that he constantly hung up two or three of his Clients at least in a Twelve-month, that he might keep up that Character to which he had attained, and so indefatigable was \\e. in the Pur- suit of those he endeavoured to apprehend, that it never happened in all his Course of acting, so much as one single Person escaped him ; nor need this appear so great a Wonder, if we consider that the exact Acquaintance he had with their Gangs, and the Haunts they used, put it out of their Power almost to hide themselves so as to avoid his Searches. When this Practice of Jonathans became noted, and the People resorted continually to his House in order to hear of the Goods which they had lost, it produced not only much Discourse, but some En- quiries into his Behaviour. Jonathan foresaw this, and in order to evade any ill Consequence that might follow upon it, put on upon such Occasions an Air of Gravity, and complained of the evil Disposition of the Times, which would not permit a Man to serve his Neighbours and his Country without Censure. For do I not, quoth Jonathan, do the greatest Good to the one, when I persuade those wicked People who have deprived them of their Properties, to restore them again for a reasonable Consideration. And with respect to the Villains whom I have so industriously brought to suffer that Punishment, which the Law, for the Sake of its honest Subjects, thinks fit to inflict upon them : does not their Deaths, I say, shew how miich Use I am of to the Country? Why, then, added Jonathan, should People asperse me, or endeavour to take away my Bread? This kind of Discourse served, as my Readers must all know, to keep Wild safe in his Employment for many Years, while not a Jonathan Wild, Thief -taker. 2)7^ Step he took, but trod on Felony, nor a Farthing did he obtain but what deserved the Gallows. Two great Things there were which contribted to his Pre: servation, and they were these : the great readiness the Government always shews in detecting Persons guilty of capital Ofifences ; in which Case we know it is common to offer not only Pardon but Rewards to Persons guilty, provided they make Discoveries ; and this Jonathan was so sensible of, that he did not only screen himself behind this Lenity of the Supreme Power, but made use of it also as a sort of Authority, and behaved himself with a very presuming Air, and taking upon him the Character of a sort of Minister of Justice, which assumed Character of his, however ill founded, proved of great Advantage to him in the Course of his Life. The other . Point, which, as I have said, contributed to keep him from any Prose- cutions on the Score of these illegal and unwarrant- able Actions, was the great Willingness of People who had been robbed to recover their Goods, and who, provided for a small Matter they could regain Things of a considerable Worth, were so far from taking Pains to bring the Offenders to Justice, that they thought the Premium a cheap Price to get off. And thus by the Rigour of the Magistrate, and the Lenity of the Subject, Jonathan claimed constant Employment; and according as wicked Persons be- haved, they were either trussed up to satisfy the just Vengeance of the one, or protected and encouraged, that by bringing the Goods they stole, he might be enabled to satisfy the Demands of the other. And thus we see the Policy of a mean and scandalous Thief- Taker, conducted with as much Prudence, Caution, and negessary Courage, as the Measures 372 The Life of taken by even the greatest Persons upon E^rth ; nor perhaps is there in all History an Instance of a Man who thus openly dallied with the Laws, and played even with Capital Punishment. As I am persuaded my Readers will take a Pleasure in the Relation of Jonathans Maxims of Policy, I shall be a little more particular in Relation to them than otherwise I should have been, considering that in this Work I do not propose to treat of the Actions of a single Person, but to consider the Villanies committed throughout the Space of a dozen Years, such especially as have reached to public Notice, by bringing the Authors of them to the Gallows. But Mr. Wild being a Man of such Eminence, as to value himself in his Lifetime on his Superiority to meaner Rogues, so I am willing to distinguish him, now he is dead, by shewing a greater Compliance, in recording his History, than that of any other Hero in this Way whatsoever. Nor to speak properly was Jonathan ever an Operator, as they call it, that is, a practiser in any one Branch of Thieving ; no, his Method was to acquire Money at an easier Rate, and if any Title can be devised suitable to his great Performance, it must be that of Director-General of the united Forces of Highwaymen, Housebreakers, Footpads, Pickpockets, and private Thieves. Now, according to my Promise, for the Maxims by which he supported himself in this dangerous Capacity. In the first Place he con- tinually exhorted the Plunderers that belonged to his several Gangs to let him know punctually what Goods they at any Time took, by which . M eans, he had it in his Power to give, for the most Part, a direct Answer to those who came to make their Enquiries after they had lost their Effects, either by their own Jonathan Wild, Thief-taker. 373 Carelessness, or the Dexterity of the Thief. If they complied faithfully with his Instructions, he was a a certain Protector on all Occasions, and sometimes had Interest enough to procure them Liberty when apprehended, either in the committing a Robbery, or upon the Information of one of the Gang ; in which Case, Jonathans usual Pretence was that such a Person who was the Man he intended to save, was capable of making a larger and more eff'ect^tal Infor- mation, for which Purpose Jonathan would some- times supply him with Memorandums of his own, and thereby establish so well the Credit of his Dis- covery, as scarce ever to fail of producing its Effect. But if they pretended to become independent, and despise his Rules, and endeavour for the Sake of Profit, to vend the Goods they got some other Way without making Application to Jonathan, or if they threw out any threatening Speeches against their Companions, or grumbled at the Compositions he made for them, in such Cases as these. Wild took the first Opportunity of talking to them in a new Style, telling them, that he was well asstired they did very ill Acts, and plundered poor honest People, to indulge themselves in their Debaucheries, that they would do well to think of amending, before the Jtcstice of their Country fell tipon them. ; and that after stich Warning they mtist not expect any Assistance froin him. iu Case they should fall under any Misfor- tune. The next Thing that followed after this fine Harangue was, they were put into the infor- mation of some of Jonathans Creatures ; or the first fresh Fact they committed, and Jonathan was applied to for the Recovery of the Goods, he immediately set out to apprehend them, and laboured 374 The Life of so indefatigably therein, that they never escaped him ; and thus he not only procured the Reward for himself, but also gained an Opportunity of pretend- ing, that he not only restored Goods to the right Owners, but also apprehended the Thief as often as it was in his Power. As to Instances, I shall mention them in a proper Place. I shall now go on to an- other Observation, viz., that in those Steps of his Business which were most hazardous, yonathan made the People themselves take the first Steps, and by publishing Advertisements of Things- lost, directing them to be brought to Mr. Wild, who was empowered to receive them, and pay such a Reward as the Per- son that lost them thought fit to offer ; and Jonathan in this Capacity appeared no otherwise than as a Person on whose Honour these sort of People could rely, by which his Assistance became necessary for retrieving whatever had been pilfered. After he had gone on in this Trade for about ten Years with Suc- cess, he began to lay aside much of his former Caution, giving way to the natural Vanity of his Temper, taking a larger House in the Great Old- Bailey than that in which he formerly lived ; giving the Woman, whom he called his Wife, abundance of fine Things; and keeping open Office for restoring stolen Goods.appointing Abundance of under Officers to receive Goods, carry Messages to those who stole, them, bring him exact Intelligence of the several Gangs, and, the Places of their Resort, and in fine, for such other Purposes as this their supreme Gover- nor directed. His Fame being at last come to that Height, that Persons of the. highest Quality would condescend to make use of his Abilities, when at an ■Installation, ptiblic Entry, or some other great So- Jonathan Wild, Thief-taker. 375 lemnity they had the Misfortune of losing Watches, yewels, or other things, whether of great, real or imaginary Value. But as his Method of treating those who applied to him for his Assistance has been much misrepresented, I shall next give an exact and impartial Account thereof, that the fabulous History of yonathan Wild may not be imposed upon Pos- terity. In the first Place, then, when a Person was intro- duced to Mr. Wild's Office, it was first hinted to him, that a Crown must be deposited by way of Fee for his Advice ; when this was complied with, a large Book was brought out, then the Loser was examined with much Formality as to the Time, Place, and Manner that the Goods became missing, and then the Person was dismissed with a Promise of careful Enquiries being made, and of hearing more concern- ing them in a Day or two. When this was adjusted, the Persons took their Leave, with great Hopes of being acquainted shortly with the Fruits of Mr, Wild's Industry, and highly satisfied with the metho- dical Treatment they had met with, when at the bottom this was all Grimace. Wild had not the least Occasion for these Queries, but to amuse the Persons he asked ; for he knew beforehand all the Circumstances of the Robbery much better than they did ; nay, perhaps had the very Goods in his House when the Folks came first to enquire for them, though for Reasons not hard to guess he made use of all this Formality, before he proceeded to return them. When therefore according to his Ap- pointment the Enquirer came the second Time, Jonathan then took care by a new Scene to amuse him. He was told that Mr. Wild had indeed made i7^ The Life of some Enquiries, but was very sorry to communicate the Event of them ; the Thief, who was a bold impudent Fellow, rejected with scorn the Offer which proceeded from the Losers. Instructions had been made him, pretended he, that he could sell the Goods at double the Price ; and in short, would not hear a Word of Restitution unless upon better Terms. But notwith- standing all this, says fonathan, if I can but come to the Speech of him, I don't doubt bringing him- to Reason. At length, after one or two more Atten- dances, Mr. Wild gave the definitive Answer, that provided no Questions were asked, and you gave so much Money to the Porter who brought them, you might have your Things returned at such an Hour precisely. This was transacted with all outward Ap- pearances of Friendship and honest Intention on his Side, and with great seeming Frankness and Gene- rosity ; but when you came to the last Article, viz., what Mr. Wild expected for his Trouble, then an Air of Coldness was put on, and he answered with equal Pride and Indifference, that what he did was purely from a Principle of doing Good, as to a Gratuity for the Trouble he had taken, he left it totally to yourself, you might do in it what you thought fit. And even when Money was presented to him, he received it with the same negligent Grace, always putting you in mind that it was your own Act, that you did it merely out of your Generosity, and that it was no way the Result of his Request, and that he took it as a Favour, not as a Reward. Thus by this Dexterity in his Management, he fenced himself against the Rigour of the Law, in the Midst of these notorious Transgressions of it ; for what could be imputed to Mr. Wild :^ He neither Jonathan Wild, Thief-taker. 377 saw the Thief, who took away your Goods, nor re- ceived them after they were taken; the Method he pursued in order to procure you your Things again, was neither dishonest nor illegal, if you will believe "his Account of it, and no other than his Account of it could be gotten. It was performed after this man- ner : after having enquired amongst such loose People as he acknowledged he had Acquaintance with, and hearing that such a Robbery was committed at such a Time, and such and such Goods taken, he thereupon had caused it to be intimated to the Thief, that if he had any Regard for his own Safety, he would cause such and such Goods to be carried to such a Place, in Consideration of which, he might reasonably hope such a Reward, naming a certain Sum, which if it excited the Thief to return the Goods, it did not thereby fix any Guilt or Blame upon Jonathan, and by this Description, I fancy my Readers will have a pretty clear Idea of the Man's Capacity, as well as of his Villainy. Had Mr. Wild continued satisfied with this Way of dealing, in all human Probability he might have gone to his Grave in Peace, without any Apprehen- sions of Punishment but what he was to meet with in a World to come ; but he was greedy, and instead of keeping constant to this safe Method, came at last to take the Goods into his own Custody, giving those that stole them what he thought proper, and then making such a Bargain with the Loser, as he was able to bring him up to, sending the Porter himself, and taking without Ceremony whatever Money had been given him. But as this happened only in the two last Years of his Life, it is fit I should give you some Instances of his Behaviour before, and these 378 The Life of not from the Hear-say of the Town, but within the Compass of my own Knowledge. A Gentleman who dealt in Silks near Covent-Garden, had bespoke a Piece of extraordinary rich Damask, on Purpose for the Birth-day Suit of a certain Duke, and the Lacemmi having brought such Trimming as was proper for it, the Mercer had made the whole up in a Parcel, tied it at each End with blue Ribband, sealed with great Exactness, and placed on one End of the Counter, in Expectation of his Graces Servant, who he knew was directed to call for it in the After- noon. Accordingly the Fellow came, but when the Mercer went to deliver him the Goods, the Piece was gone, and no Account could possibly be had of it, as the Master had been all Day in the Shop, so there was no Pretence of charging anything, either upon the Carelessness or Dishonesty of Servants ; after an Hour's fretting, therefore, seeing no other Remedy, he even determined to go and communicate his Loss to Mr. Wild, in hopes of receiving some Benefit by his Assistance, the Loss consisting not so much in the Value of the Things, as in the Disappointment it would be to the Nobleman not to have them on his Birth-day. Upon this Consideration an Hackney- Coach was immediately called, and away he was ordered to drive directly to J onathan s House in the Old-Bailey. As soon as he came into the Room, and had acquainted Mr. Wild with his Business, the usual Deposit of a Crown being made, and the common Questions of the how, when, and where, having been asked, the Mercer being very impatient, said with some kind of Heat, Mr. Wild, the Loss I have sus- tained, though the intrinsic Value of the Goods be very great, lies much more in disobliging my Customer. Jonathan Wild, Thief-taker. 379 Tell me, therefore, in a few Words, if it be in your Power to serve me; if it is,' I have thirty Guineas here ready to lay down, but if you expect that I should dance Attendance for a Week or two, I assure you I shall not be willing to part with above half the Money. Good Sir, replied Mr. Wild, have a little m,ore Con- sideration, I am. no Thief, Sir, nor no Receiver of stolen Goods, so that if you don't think ft to give me Time to enquire, you must even take what Meastires you please. When the Mercer found he was like to be left without any hopes, he began to talk in a milder Strain, and with abundance of entreaties fell to persuading fonathan to think of some Method to serve him, and that immediately. Wild stepped out a. Minute or two, as if to the Necessary-Hoitse. As soon as he came back, he told the Gentleman, it was not in his Power to serve the Gentleman in such a Hurry, if at all ; however, in a Day or two he might be able to give some Answer ? The Mercer insisted that a Day or two would lessen the Value of the Goods one half to him, and Jonathan insisted as peremptorily that it was not in his Power to do any- thing sooner. At last a Servant came in a Hurry, and told Mr. Wild, there was a Gentleman below desired to speak with him. Jonathan bowed and begged the Gentleman's Pardon, told him, he would watt on him in one Minute, and without staying for a Reply withdrew, clapped the Door after him. In . about five Minutes he returned with a very smiling Countenance ; and turning to the Gentleman, said, T protest. Sir, you are the luckiest Man I ever knew, I spoke to one of my People Just now, to go to a House where I know some Lifters resort, and directed him to talk of the Robbery that had been committed in your 380 The Life of House, and to say, the Gentleman had been with me and offered thirty Guineas, provided the Things might be had again ; but he declared, if he did not receive them, in a very short Space, he would give as great a Reward for the Discovery of the Thief, whom he would prosecute with the utmost Severity. This Story has had its Effect, and if you go directly home, I fancy you will hear m,ore News of it yourself than I am able to tell you ; but pray, Sir, remember one thing, that the thirty Guineas was your own Offer, you are at Liberty to give them., or let them alone ; do which you please, it is nothiug to me ; but take Notice, Sir, that I have done all for you in my Power, without the least Expectation of Grattiity. Away went the Mercer, confounded in his Mind, and wondering where this Affair would End ; but as he walked up Southampton Street a Fellow overtook him, patted him on the Shoulder, and delivered him the Bundle unopened, told him the Price was twenty Guineas ; the Mercer paid it him directly, and returning to Jonathan in half an Hour's time, readily expressed Abundance of thanks to Mr. Wild for his Assistance, and begged him to accept of the ten Guineas he had saved him for his Pains. Jonathan told him, that he had saved him Nothing, but supposed that the People thought twenty Demand enough, considering that they were 7iow pretty safe from. Prosecution. The Mercer still pressed the ten Guineas upon Jonathan, who after taking them out of his Hand returned him Five of them, and assured him, there was more than enough, adding, it is Satisfaction enough. Sir, to an honest Man, that he is able to procttre People their Goods again. This you will say was a remarkable Instance of his Moderation. I will join to it as extraordinary Jonathan Wild, Thief-taker. 381 an Acqount of his Justice, Equity, or what else you will please to call it. It happened thus : A Lady, whose Husband was out of the Kingdom, and had sent her Over- Draughts for her Assistance to the Amount of between fifteen Hundred and two Thousand Pounds, lost the Pocket- Book in which they were contained, between Bucklersbury and the Magpye Ale House in Leadenhall Street, where the Merchant lived upon whom they were drawn. She, however, went to the Gentleman, and he advised her to go directly to Mr. Jonathan Wild. Accordingly to Jonathan she came, and deposited the Crown, and answered the Questions he asked her. Jonathan then told her that in an Hour or two's Time possibly some of his People might hear who it was that had picked her Pocket. The Lady was vehement in her Desire to have it again, and for that Purpose went so far as to offer a hundred Guineas. Wild upon that, made Answer, though they are of much greater Value to you, Madam, yet they cannot be worth anything like it to them, ; therefore keep yoiir own Counsel, say No- thing in the Hearing of my People, and I will give the best Directions I am, able for the Recovery of your Notes. In the meanwhile, if you will go to any Tavern near, and endeavour to eat a Bit of Dinner, I will bring you an Answer before the Cloth is taken away. She said she was unacquainted with any House thereabouts, upon which Mr. Wild named the Baptist Head. The Lady would not be satisfied unless Mr. Wild promised to eat with her ; he at last complied, and she ordered a Fow'l and Sausages at the House he had appointed. She waited there about three Quarters of an hour, when Mr. Wild came over and told her he had heard News of her Book, de- 382 The Life of sired her to tell out ten Guineas upon the Table in case she should have Occasion for them, and as the Cook came up to acquaint her that the Fowl was ready, Jonathan begged she would just step down to the Street door, and see whether there was any Woman waiting. The Lady, without minding the Mystery, did as he desired her, and perceiving a Woman in a Scarlet Riding-hood walk twice or thrice by Mr. Wild's house, her Curiosity prompted her to go near her, but recollecting she had left the Gold upon the Table up Stairs, she went and snatched it up without saying a Word to Jonathan, and then running down again went towards the Woman in the red Hood, who was still walking before his Door. It seems she had guessed right, for no sooner did she approach towards her but the Woman came directly up to her, and presenting her her Pocket-Book, de- sired, she wotcld open it and see that all was safe ; the Lady did so, and answering it was all right, the Woman in the red Riding- Hood said, heres another little Note for you-. Madam, upon which she gave her a little Billet, on the Outside of which was writ ten Guineas. The Lady, delivered her the Money im- mediately, adding also a Piece for herself, and re- turned with a great deal of Joy to Mr. Wild, told him she had got her Book, and would now eat her Dinner heartily. When the Things were taken away, she thought it was Time to go to the Merchants, who probably now was returned from Change, but first thought it necessary to make Mr. Wild a handsome Present, for which purpose, putting her Hand in her Pocket, she with great Surprise found her Green Purse gone, in which was the Remainder of fifty Guineas she had borrowed of the Merchant in the Jonathan Wild, Thief -taker. 383 Morning. Upon this she looked very much con- fused, but did not speak a Word, yonathan per- ceived it, and asked her if she was not well. I am in tolerable Health, Sir, answered she, but am amazed that the Woman took but ten Guineas for the Book, and at the same Time picked my pocket of thirty- nine. Mr. Wild hereupon appeared in as great a Confusion as the Lady, said, he hoped she was not in earnest, but if it were so, begged her not to disturb herself, she would not lose one Farthing. Upon which Jonathan, begging her to sit still, stepped over to his own House, and gave, as may be supposed, necessary Directions ; for in less than half an Hour, a little jew (called Abraham) that Wild kept, bolted into the Room, and told him the Woman was taken, and on the Point of going to the Compter. You shall see. Madam, replied Jonathan, turning to the Lady, what exemplary Punishment I'll make of this infamous Woman. Then turning himself to the few, Abraham, says he, was the Green Purse of Money taken about her ; yes. Sir, replied his Agent. O la ! then, said the Lady, Fll take the Purse with all my Heart ; I would not prosecute the poor Wretch for the World. Would not you so, Madam, replied Wild ? Well, then, we will see what's to be done. Upon which he first whispered his Emissary, and then dispatched him. He was no sooner gone, than Jonathan said the Lady would be too late at the Merchant' s unless they took Coach ; which thereupon they did, and stopped over against the Compter Gate, by Stocks Market. She wondered at all this, but by the Time they had been in a Tavern there a very little Space, back comes Jonathans Emissary with the green Purse and the Gold in it. She says. Sir, said the 384 The Life of Fellow to Wild, slie has only broke a Guinea of the Money for Garnish and Wine, and here is all the Rest of it. Very well, says Jonathan, give it to the Lady. Will you please to tell it, Madam ? The Lady ac- cordingly did, and found there was forty-nine. Bless me ! says she, / think the Woman s beivitched, she has sent me ten Guineas more than / should have had. No, Madam,, replied Wild, she has sent you the ten Guineas back again, which she received for the Book ; I never suffer any such Practices in my Way. f obliged her therefore to give up the Money she had taken as well as that she had stole; and therefore hope, whatever you may think of her, that you will not have a worse Opinion of yotcr humble Servant for this Accident. The Lady was so much confounded and confused at these unaccountable Incidents, that she scarce knew what she did. At last recollecting herself, well Mr. Wild, says she, then I think the least / can do is to oblige you to accept of these ten Guineas ; no, replied he, nor of ten Farthings, I scorn all Actions of such a sort as much as any Man of Quality in the Kingdom.. All the Reward I desire, Madam,, is, that you will acknowledge L have acted like an honest Man, and a Man of Honour. He had scarce pronounced these Words, before he rose up, made her a Bow, and went immediately down Stairs. The Reader may be assured there is not the least Mixture of Fiction in this Story, and yet perhaps there was not a more remarkable one which happened in the whole Course of Jonathan's Life. I shall add but one more Relation of this Sort, and then o-q on with the Series of my History ; this which I am now going to relate, happening within a few Doors of the Place where I lived, and was transacted in Jonathan Wild, Thief-taker. 385 this manner. There came a little Boy with Vials to sell in a Basket to the shop of a Stirgeon, who was my very intimate Acquaintance. It was in the Winter, and the Weather Cold, when one Day after he had sold the Bottles that were wanted, the Boy complained he was almost chilled to Death with Cold, and almost starved for want of Victuals. The Siir- geons Maid, in Compassion to the Child, who wa$ not above nine or ten Years old, took him into the Kitchen, and gave him a PoTringer of Milk and Bread, with a Lump or two of Sugar in it. The Boy eat a little of it, then said, he had enough, gave her a thousand Blessings and Thanks, and marched off with a Silver Spoon, and a pair of Forceps of the same Metal, which lay in the Shop as he passed through. The Instrument was first missed, and the Search after it occasioned their missing the Spoon ; and yet nobody suspected anything of the Boy, though they had all seen him in the Kitchen. The Gentleman of the House, however, having some Knowledge of Jonathan Wild, and not living far from the Old Bailey, went immediately to him for his Advice. Jonathan called, for a Bottle of white Wine, and ordered it to be mulled. The Gentleman knowing the Custom of the House, laid down the Crown, and was going on to tell him the Manner in which the Things were missed,- but Mr. Wild soon cut him short, by saying. Sir, step into the next Room a Moment ; here's a Lady coming hither ; you may depend upon my doing anything that is in my Power, and presently we will talk the Thing over at Leisure. The Gentleman went into the Room where he was directed, and saw, with no little Wonder, his Forceps and Silver Spoon lying upon the Table. He had 2 c 386 The Life of hardly taken them up to look at them, before Jona- than entered. So, Sir, said he, / suppose you have no farther Occasion for my Assistance ; yes, indeed I have, said the Surgeon, there are a great many Ser- vants in our Family, and some of them will certainly be blamed for this Transaction, so that I am under a Necessity of begging another Favour, which is, that you will let me kno\v how they were stolen ? / be- lieve the Thief is not far off, qtioth J onathan, and if you will give me your Word he shall come to no Harm I will produce him immediately. The Gentleman readily condescended to this Proposition, and Mr. Wild, stepping out for a Minute or two, brought in the young Vial Merchant in his Hand ; here. Sir, says Wild, do you know this hopefil Youth ? Yes, answered the Stirgeon, but I could never have dreamt that a Creature so little as he could have had so mtich Wickedness in him ; however, as I have given yoti my Word, and as I have my Things again, I will not only pass by his robbing me, btU if he will bring me Bottles again, shall make use of hitn as I tised to do. I believe you may, added Jonathan, when he ventures into your House again. But it seems he was therein mistaken, for in less than a Week afterwards the Boy had the Impudence to come and offer his Vials again, upon which the Gentleman, not only bought of him as usual, but ordered two Quarts of Milk to be set on the Fire, put into it two Ounces of Glister Sugar, crummed it with a couple of penny Bricks, and obliged this nimble-fitigered Youth to eat it every Drop up before he went out of the Kitchen Door, and then without farther Correction hurried him about his Business. This was the Channel in which Jonathan's Busi- Jonathan Wild, Thief-taker. 387 ness usually ran, but to support his Credit with the Magistrates, he was forced to add Thief-catching to it, and every Sessions or two, strung up some of the Youths of his own bringing up to the Gallows ; but however this did not serve his Turn. An honourable Person on the Bench took Notice of his manner of acting, which being become at last notorious, an Act of Parliament was passed, levelled directly against such Practices, whereby Persons who took Money for the Recovery of stolen Goods, and did actually recover such Goods without apprehending the Felon, should be deemed guilty in the same Degree of Felony with those who committed the Fact in taking such Goods as were returned. And after this became Law, the same honourable Person sent to him to warn him of going on any longer at his old Rate, for that it was now become a capital Crime, and if he was apprehended for it, he could expect no Mercy. Jonathan received the Reproof with Abund- ance of Thankfulness and Submission, but what was strange, never altered the Manner of his Behaviour in the least, but on the Contrary, did it more openly and publicly than ever. Indeed to compensate for this, he seemed to double his Diligence in appre- hending Thieves, and brought a vast Number of the most notorious amongst them to the Gallows, even though he himself had bred them up in the Art of Thieving, and given them both Instructions and En- couragement to take that Road ruinous enough in itself, and even by him made fatal. Of these none was so open and apparent a Case as that of Blake, alias Blueskins. This Fellow had from a Child been under the Tuition of Jonathan, who paid for the curing his Wounds, whilst he was in the Compter, 388 The Life of allowed him three and sixpence a Week for his Sub-= sistence, and afforded his Help to get him out there at last. Yet soon after this he abandoned him to his own Conduct in such Matters, and in a short Space caused him to be apprehended for breaking open the House of yir. Kneebone, which brought him to the Gallows. When the Fellow came to be tried, Jona- than indeed vouchsafed to speak to him, and assured him that his Body should be handsomely interred in a good Coffin at his own Expense. This was strange Comfort, and such as by no Means suited with Blue- skin. He insisted peremptorily upon a Transporta- tion Pardon, which he said he was sure Jonathan had Interest enough to procure for him. But upon Wild's assuring him that he had not, and that it was in vain for him to flatter himself with such Hopes, but that he had better dispose hintself to thinking of another Life, in order to which, good Books and such like Helps should not be wanting ; all which put Blueskin at last into such a Passion, that though this Discourse happened upon the Leads at the Old Bailey, in the Presence of the Court then sitting, Blake could not forbear taking a Revenge for what he took to be an Insult on him, and therefore, with- out ado, clapped one Hand under Jonathans Chin, and with the other, taking a sharp Knife out of his Pocket, cut him a large Gash across the Throat, which everybody at the Time it was done judged Mortal. Jonathan was carried off, all covered with Blood, and though at that Time he professed the greatest Resentment for such base Usage, affirming that he had never deserved to be so treated, having done all that lay in his Power for the. Man who had so cruelly designed against his Life, yet when he Jonathan Wild, Thief-taker. 389 afterwards came to be under Sentence of Death him- self, he regretted prodigiously the Escape he then made from Death, often wishing that the Knife of Blake had put an End to his Life, rather than left him to linger out his Days till so ignominious a Fate befell him. Indeed it was not Blake alone, who had entertained Notions of putting him to Death ; he had disobliged almost the whole Group of Villains with whom he had had concern, and there were Numbers of them who had taken it into their Heads to deprive him of Life. His Escapes in the apprehending such Persons were sometimes very narrow, having received Wounds in almost every part of his Body, had his Skull twice fractured, and his whole Constitution so broken by these Accidents, and the great Fatigue he went through, that when he fell under the Misfortunes which brought him to his Death, he was scarcely able to stand upright, and never in a Condition to go to Chapel. But we have broken a little into the Thread of our History, and must therefore go back in order to trace the Causes which brought on y ottathan s last Adventures, and finally his violent Death, which we shall now relate in the clearest and concisest Manner that the thing will allow ; being furnished for that Purpose, having to personal Experience added the best Intelligence that could be procured, and that too. from Persons the most deserving of Credit. The Practices of this Criminal, in the Manner we have before mentioned, continued long after the Act of Parliament, and that in so notorious a Manner at last, that both the Magistrates in London and Middle- sex, thought themselves obliged by the Duty of their Offices to take Notice of him. This occasioned a Warrant to be granted against him, by a worshipful 390 The Life of Alderman of the City, upon which Mr. Wild being apprehended somewhere near Wood Street, he was carried into \}ci& Rose Spunging House. There I my- self saw him sitting in the Kitchen at the Fire, wait- ing the Leisure of the Magistrate who was to exa- mine him. In the meantime the Crowd was very great, and Jonathan with his usual Hypocrisy haran- gued them to this purpose : / wonder, good People, what it is you wottld see ? J am a poor honest Man, who have done all I could to serve People when they have had the Misfortune to lose their Goods by the Villany of Thieves, I have contributed m,ore than any one Man living to bringing the most Daring and notorious Malefactors to ftistice ; yet now by the Malice of my Enemies, you see I am in Custody, and am going before a Magistrate who I hope will do me fustice. Why should yotc insult m,e therefore ? I don't know that I ever injiired any of you f Let me entreat yozc, therefore, as you see me lame in Body, and afflicted in Mind, not to make me more uneasy than I can bear ; if T have offended against the Law it will punish me, but it gives you no right to use me ill, un- heard, and unconvicted. The People of the House and the Com,pter Officers by this time, had pretty well cleared the Place ; upon which he began to compose himself, and desired them to get a Co2ch- to the Door, for that he was unable to walk. About an Hour after, he was carried before a Justice and examined, and I think was thereupon immediately committed to Newgate ; he lay there a considerable time before he was tried, at last he was convicted capitally upon the following Fact, which appeared on the Evidence, exactly in the same Light in which I shall State it. He was indicted on the afore-mentioned Statute, Jonathan Wild, Thief-taker. 391 for receiving Money for the restoring stolen Goods, without apprehending the Persons by whom they were stolen. In order to support this Charge, the Prosecutrix, Catherine Stephens, deposed as follows : On the 22nd of January, two Persons came into my Shop under Pretence of buying some Lace ; they were so difficult to please that I had none below would suit them ; so leaving my Daughter in the Shop, I stepped up Stairs and brought down another Box, We could not agree about the Price, and so they went away together. In about half an Hour after I missed a Tin Box of Lace that I valued at ;^5o. The same Night, and the next I went to Jonathan Wild's House, but not meeting with him at home, I advertised the Lace that I had lost with a Reward of fifteen Guineas, and no Questions asked ; but hearing nothing of it, I went to yonathans House again, and then met with him at home. He desired me to give him a Description of the Persons that I sus- pected, which I did as near as I could ; and then he told me, that he would make Enquiry, and bid me call again in two or three Days. I did so, and then he said, that he had heard something of my Lace, and expected to know more of the Matter in a very little Time. I came to him again on the Day he was ap- prehended (I think it was the 15th of February). I told him that though I had advertised but fifteen Guineas Reward, yet I would give twenty or twenty- five Guineas, rather than not have my Goods. Dont be in such a Hurry, said fonathan, I dont know but I may help you to it for less, and if I can I will ; the Persons that have it are gone out of Town ; I shall set them to quarrelling about it, and then I shall get it the cheaper. On the loth of March he sent me 392 The Life of Word, that if T could come to him in Newgate, and bring ten Guineas in m,y Pocket, he would help me to the Lace. I went ; he desired me to call a Porter, but I not knowing where to find one, he sent a Person who brought one that appeared to be a Ticket-Porter. The Prisoner gave me a Letter, which he said was sent him as a Direction where to go for the Lace, but I could not read, and so I delivered it to the Porter ; then, he desired me to give the Porter the ten Guineas, or else, he said, the Persons that had the Lace would not deliver it. I gave the Porter the Money, he went away and in a little time returned, and brought me a Box that was sealed up, but not the same that was lost ; I opened it and found all my Lace. but one Piece. Now Mr. Wild, says I, what must you have for your Trouble .'' Not a Farthing, says he, not a Farthing for m.e ; T don't do these things for worldly Interest, but only for the Good of poor People that have m,et with Misfortunes. As for the Piece of Lace that is missing, I hope to get it for yott soon, and I don't know bzit that I may help you not only to your Money again, but to the Thief, too, and if I can, much good may it do you. And as you are a good Woman and a Widow, and a Christian, I desire Nothing of you but your Prayers, and for them T shall be thankful. I have a great m-any Enemies, and God knows what may be the Consequence of this Imprisonment. The Fact suggested in the Indictment was un- doubtedly fully proved by this Deposition, and though the Fact happened in Newgate, and after his Confine- ment, yet it still continued as much and as great a Crime as if it had been done before ; the Law, there- fore, condemned him upon it, but if he had even Jonathan Wild, Thief -taker. 393 escaped this, there were other Facts of a like Nature which inevitably would have destroyed him ; for the last Years of his Life instead of growing more pru- dent, he undoubtedly became less so. The Blunders committed in this Fact, were very little like the Behaviour of Jonathan in the first Years in which he carried on this Practice, when nobody behaved with greater Caution ; and though he had all along great Enemies, yet he conducted his Affairs so, that the Law could not possibly lay hold of him, nor his Ex- cuses be easily detected, even in respect of Honesty itself. When he was brought up to the Bar to receive Sentence, he appeared to be very much dejected, and when the usual Question was proposed to him. What have you to say, why yudgment of Death should not pass upon yoit ? he spoke with a very feeble Voice in the following Terms : My Lord, I hope T may even in the sad Condition in which I stand, pretend to some little Merit in respect to the Service I have done m-y Country, in delivering it from- some of the greatest Pests with which it was ever trotibled. My Lord, I have brought Tnany bold and daring Malefactors to just Punishment, even at the Hazard of my own Life, my Body being covered with Scars I received in these Undertakings. I pre- sume, m,y Lord, to say I have done some Merit, because at the Time the Things were done, they were esteemed meritorious by the Government ; and therefore I hope; my Lord, some Compassion may be shown on the Score of those Services. I submit myself wholly to his Majesty's Mercy, and humbly beg a favourable Report of m,y Case. When Sir William Thomson, now one of the Barons of his Majesty's Court of Exchequer, as Recorder of London pronounced Sentence of 394 The Life of Death, he spoke particularly to Wild, put him in Mind of those Cautions he had had of going on in those Practices, rendered Capital by Law, made on purpose for preventing that infamous Trade of be- coming ^r^/^^'r for Felony, and standing in the middle between the Felon and the Person injured, in order to receive a Premium for Redress ; and when he had properly stated the Nature and Aggravations of his Crime, he exhorted him to make a better Use of that small Portion of Time which the Tenderness of the Law of England allowed Sinners for Repentance, and desired he would remember this Admonition, though he had slighted others. As to the Report, he told him he might depend on Justice, and ought not to hope for more. Under Conviction, no Man who appeared upon other Occasions to have so much Courage, ever showed so little ; he had constantly declined ever coming to Chapel, under Pretence of Lameness and Indisposition. When Clergymen took the Pains to visit him, and instruct him in those Duties which it became a dying Man to Practice ; though he heard them without Interruption, yet he heard them coldly, and instead of desiring to be instructed on that Head, was continually suggesting Scruples and Doubts about a future State, asking impertinent Questions as to the State of Souls departed, and putting frequent cases of the Reasonableness and Lawfulness of Suicide, where an ignominious Death was inevitable, and the Thing was perpetrated only to avoid Shame. He was more especially swayed to such Notions, he pre- tended, from the Examples of the famous Heroes of Antiquity, who to avoid dishonourable Treatment had given themselves a speedy Death. As such Dis- Jonathan Wild, Thief-taker. 395 courses took up most of the Time between his Sen- tence and Death, so they occasioned some very useful Lectures upon this Head, from the charitable Divines who visited him ; but though they would have been of great Use in all such Cases for the Future, yet being pronounced by Word of Mouth only, they are now totally- lost. One Letter indeed was written to him by a learned Person on this Head, of which a Copy has been preserved, and it is with very great Pleasure that I give it to my Readers. It runs thus : " A Letter from the Rev. Dr. ■, to Mr. Wild, in Newgate. " I am very sorry that after a Life so spent as yours is notoriously known to have been, you should yet, instead of repenting of your former Offences, continue to swell their Number even with greater. I pray God it be not the greatest of all Sins, affecting Doubts as to a future State, and whether you shall ever be brought to answer for your Actions in this Life before a Tribunal in that which is to come. " The Heathens it must be owned, could have no Certainty as to the Immortality of the Soul, because they had no immediate Revelation ; for though the Reasons which incline us to the Belief of those two Points of future Existence and future Tribulation be as strong as any of the other Points in natural Religion ; yet as none return from that Land of Darkness, or escape from the Shadow of Death, to bring News of what passeth in those Regions whether all Men go, so without a direct Revelation from the Almighty, no positive Knowledge could be had of 39^ The Life of Life in the World to come, which is therefore pro- perly said to be derived to us through Christ Jesus, who in plain Terms, and with that Authority which confounded his Enemies, the Scribes and Pharisees, taught the Doctrine of a final Judgment, and by affording us the Means of Grace, raised in us at the same time the Hopes of Glory. " The Arguments therefore which might appear sufficient unto the Heathens to justify killing them- selves to avoid what they thought greater Evils, if they had any Force then, must have totally lost it now ; indeed the far greater Number of Instances which History has transmitted to us, show that Self- Murder even then proceeded from the same Causes as at present, viz.. Rage, Despair, and Disappoint- ment. Wise Men in all Ages despised it, as a mean and despicable Flight from Evils the Soul wanted Courage and Strength to bear. This has not only been said by Philosophers, but even by Poets, too, which shows that it appeared a Notion, not only Rational but Heroic. There are none so timorous, says Martial, but extremity of Want may force upon a voluntary Death ; those few alone are to be ac- counted brave, who can support a Life of Evil and the pressing Load of Misery, without having Recourse to a Dagger. But if there were no more in it than the Dispute of which was the most gallant Act of the two, to suffer, or die, it would not deserve so much Consideration. The Matter with you is of far greater Importance ; it is not how, or in what Manner you ought to die in this World, but how you are to expect Mercy and Happiness in that which is to come. This is your last Stake, and all that now. can deserve your Regard ; even Hope is lost as to Jonathan Wild, Thief-taker. 397 present Life, and if you make use of your Reason, it must direct you to turn all your Wishes and Endea- vours towards attaining Happiness in a future State. What then Remains to be examined in Respect of this Question is, whether Persons who slay them- selves can hope for Pardon or Happiness in the Sen- tence of that Judge from whom there is no Appeal, and whose Sentence, as it surpasses all Understand- ing, so is it executed immediately. " If we judge only from Reason, it seems that we have no Right over a Life which we receive not from ourselves, or from our Parents, but from the imme- diate Gift of him who is the Lord thereof, and the Fountain of Being. To take away our own Life, then, is contradicting as far as we are able the Laws of Providence, and that Disposition which his Wis- dom has been pleased to direct. It is as though we pretended to have more Knowledge or more Power than he ; and as to that Pretence which is usually made use of, that Life is meant as a Blessing, and that therefore when it becomes an Evil, we may if we think fit resign it, it is indeed but mere So- phistry. We acknowledge God to be infinite in all Perfections, and consequently in Wisdom and Power ; from the latter we receive our Existence in this Life, and as to the Measure it depends wholly' on the Former ; so that if we from the shallow Dictates of our Reason, contemptuously shorten that Term which is appointed us by the Almighty, we thereby con- tradict all his Laws, throw up all Rights to his Pro- mises, and by the very last Act we are capable of, put ourselves out of his Protection. " This I say is the Prospect of the Fruits of Suicide, looked on with the Eye only of natural Religion, and 398 The Life of the Opinion of Christians is unanimous in this re- spect, and that Persons who wilfully deprive them- selves of Life here, involve themselves also in Death everlasting. As to your particular Case, in which you say, it is only making choice of one Death, rather than another, there are also the strongest Reasons against it. The Law intends your Death, not only for the Punishment of your Crimes, but as an Example to deter others. The Law of God, which hath com- manded that the Magistrates should not bear the Sword in vain, hath given Power to denounce this Sentence against you, but that Authority which you would assume, defeats both the Law of the Land in its Intention, and is opposite also unto the Law of God. Add unto all this the Example of our blessed Saviour, who submitted to be hung upon a Tree, though he had only need of praying to his Father to have sent him thousands of Angels ; yet chose he the Death of a Thief, that the Will of God, and the Sentence even of an unrighteous Judge might be satisfied. " Let then the Testimony of your own Reason, your Reverence towards God, and the Hopes which you ought to have in Jesus Christ, determine you to expect with Patience the Hour of your Dissolution, dispose you to fill up the short Interval which yet remains with sincere Repentance, and enable you to support your Sufferings with such a Christian Spirit of Resignation as may purchase for you an eternal Weight of Glory. In the which you shall always be assisted with my Prayers to God." Jonathan at last pretended to be overcome with the Reasons which had been offered to him on the Jonathan Wild, Thief-taker. 399 Subject of Self-Murder ; but it plainly appeared that in this he was a Hypocrite ; for the Day before his Execution, notwithstanding the Keepers had the strictest Eye on him imaginable, somebody conveyed to him a Bottle of liquid Laudanum, of which hav- ing taken a very large Quantity, he hoped it would prevent his dying at the Gallows. But as he had not been sparing in the Dose, so the Largeness of it made a speedy Alteration, which being perceived by his fellow Prisoners, seeing he could not keep open his Eyes at the time that Prayers were said to them as usual in the Condemned Hole, they there- upon walked him about, which first made him sweat exceedingly, and then very sick ; at last he vomited, and they continuing still to lead him, he threw the greatest Part of the Laudamim off from his Stomach. He continued notwithstanding that, very drowsy, stupid, and unable to do anything but gasp out his Breath until it was stopped by the Halter. He went to Execution in a Cart, and the People, instead of expressing any kind of Pity or Compassion for him, continued to throw Stones and Dirt all the Way he went along, reviling and cursing him to the last, and plainly showing by their Behaviour, how much the Blackness and Notoriety of his Crimes had made him abhorred, and how little Tenderness the Ene- mies of Mankind meet with when overtaken by the Hand of Justice. When he arrived at Tyburn, hav- ing at that Time gathered a little Strength, Nature recovering from the Convulsions in which the Lauda- num, had thrown him, the Executioner told him, he might take what Time he pleased to prepare for Death. He therefore sat down in the Cart for some small Time, during which the People were so uneasy 400 The Life of that they called out incessantly to the Executioner to dispatch him, and at last threatened to tear him in Pieces if he did not tie him up immediately. Such a furious Spirit was hardly ever discovered in the Populace upon such an Occasion. They generally look on Blood with Tenderness, and behold even the Stroke of Justice with Tears, but so far were they from it in this Case, that had a Reprieve really come, it is highly questionable whether the Prisoner would ever have been brought back with safety, it being far more likely that as they wounded him dangerously in the Head in his Passage to Tyburn, they would have knocked him on the Head out-right, if it had been attempted to have brought him back. Before I part with Mr. Wild, it is requisite that I inform you in Respect to his Wives, or those who were called his Wives, concerning whom so much Noise has been made. His first was a poor honest Woman who contented herself to live at Wolver- hampton, with the Son she had by him, without ever putting him to any trouble, or endeavouring to come up to Town to take upon her the Style and Title of Madam Wild, which the last Wife he lived with did with the greatest Afifectationi The next whom he thought fit to dignify with the Name of his Consort, was the aformentioned Mrs. Milliner, with whom he continued in very great Intimacy after they lived separately, and by her means first carried on his Trade in detecting stolen Goods. The Third was one Betty Man, a Woman of the Town in her younger Years, but so suddenly struck with the Horror of these Offences which she had committed, that on the Persuasion of a Romish Priest she turned Papist ; and as she appeared in her Heart exceed^ Jonathan Wild, Thief-taker. 401 ingly devout and thoroughly Penitent for all her Sins, it is to be hoped such Penitence might merit Forgive- ness. However erroneous the Principles of that Chtcrch .might be, in the Communion of which she died, Wild even retained such an Impression of the Sanctity of this Woman after her Decease, and so great Veneration for her, that he ordered his Body to be buried next to hers in Pancras Ch^crch Yard, which his Friends saw accordingly performed, about two o'clock in the Morning after his Execution. The next of Mr. Wild's Sultanas was Sarah Perrin, alias Graystone, who survived him. The next was Judith Nzmn, by whom he had a Daughter, who at the Time of his Decease might be about ten Years old, both Mother and Daughter being then living. The sixth and last was the no less celebrated Mrs. or Madam Wild, than he was remarkable by the Style of Wild the Thief- Catcher, or by way oi. Irony of honest Jonathan. This remarkable Damsel before her first Marriage was known by the Name of Mary Brown, afterwards by that of Mrs. Z?m^^, being Wife to Skull Dean, who was executed about the Year 1 716 for House-breaking. Some malicious People have reported that Jonathan was accessory to the hanging him, merely for the Sake of the Reward, and the Opportunity of taking his Relict, who what- ever Regard she might have for her first Husband, is currently reported to have been so much affected with the Misfortunes that happened to the latter, that she twice attempted to make away with herself, after she had the News of his being under Sentence ; however, by this his last Lady he left no Children, and but two by his three other Wives, who were living at the time of his Decease. 2 D 402 The Life of As to the Person of the Man, it was homely to the greatest Degree ; there was something remarkably villanous in his Face, which Nature had imprinted more strongly than perhaps she ever did upon any other. He was strong and active, a Fellow of pro- digious Boldness and Resolution, which made the Pusillanimity shown at his Death more remarkable. In his Lifetime he was not at all shy in owning his Profession ; but on the Contrary bragged of it upon all Occasions, into which perhaps he was led by that ridiculous Respect which was paid him, and the Meanness of Spirit some Persons of Distinction were guilty of in talking to him freely. Common Report has swelled the Number of Malefactors executed through his means, to no less than one hundred and twenty ; certain it is, that they were very numerous, as well in Reality as in his own Reckoning. The most remarkable of them were these : White, Thir- land, and Dunn, executed for the Murder of Mrs. Knap, and robbing Thomas Micklethwait, Esq. ; James Lincoln, and Robert Wilkinson, for robbing and murdering Peter Martin, the Chelsea Pensioner (but it must be noted that they denied the Murder even with their last Breath) ; fames Shaw, convicted by Jonathan, for the Murder of Mr. Potts, though he had been apprehended by others ; Humphry Angier, who died for robbing Mr. Ltien, the City Marshall ; John Levee and Matthew Flood, for rob- bing the Honourable Mr. Young and Colonel Cope, of a Watch and other things of Value ; Richard Oakey for robbing of Mr. Belts in Fig Lane ; John Shepherd and Joseph Blake for breaking into the House of Mr. Kneebone, with many others, some of which, such as John Malony, and VaL Carrick, were Jonathan Wild, Thief-taker. 403 of an older Date. It has been said that there was a considerable Sum of Money due to him for his Share in the Apprehension of several Felonies at the very Time of his Death, which happened as I have told you at Tyburn, on Monday, the 24th of May, 1725, he being then about forty-two Years of Age. The Life of John Little, a Housebreaker and Private Thief |HE Papers which I have in Relation to this Malefactor speak Nothing with Regard to his Parents and Education. The first Thing that I meet with concerning him is his being at Sea, where he was at the Time my Lord Torrington, then Sir George Byng, went up the Medi- terranean, as also in my Lord Cobhams Expedition to Vigo ; and such a knack he had of plundering in these Expeditions, that he could never bring himself afterwards to thinking it was a Sin to plunder any- body, which wicked Principle he did not fail to put in Practice by stealing every Thing he could lay his Hands on, when he afterwards went into Sweden in a Merchant Ship ; and indeed there is too common a Case for Men who have been inured to robbing and maltreating an Enemy, now and then to revive the same Talents at home, and make as free with the Subjects of their own Sovereign as they did with those of the Enemy. Weak Minds sometimes do not really so well apprehend the Difference, but thieve under little Apprehension of Sin, provided 404 The Life of they can escape the Gallows. And others of better Understandings acquire such an Appetite for Rapine, that they are not afterwards able to lay it aside, so that I cannot help observing, that it would be more prudent for Officers to encourage their Men to do their Duty against the Enemy from generous Motives of serving their Country, and vindicating its Rights, rather than proposing the Hopes of Gain, and the -Reward arising from destroying those unhappy Wretches who fall under their Power ; but enough of this, and perhaps too much here. Let us return again to him of whom we are now speaking. When he came home into England, he fell into ill Company, particularly that of fohn Bewle, alias Hanley, and one Belcher, who it is to be supposed first inclined him to look upon robbing as a very entertaining Em- ployment, in which they met with abundance of Pleasure, and might, with a little Care, avoid all the Danger. This was Language very likely to work upon Littles Disposition, who had a great Inclination to all Sorts of Debauchery, and no Sort of Religious Principles to check him ; and over and above "all this, he was unhappily married to a Woman of the same Way of .Living, one who got her Bread by walking the Streets and picking of Pockets, and therefore in- stead of persuading her Husband to quit such Com- pany as she saw him inclined to follow, on the Con- trary encouraged, prompted and offered her Assist- ance in the Expeditions she knew they were going about. And thus Littles Road to Destruction lay open for him to rush into without any Let, or the least Check upon his vicious IncHnations. He and his Wicked Companions became very busy in the Practice of their Employment : they disturbed John Little, a Housebreaker. 405- most of the Roads near London, and were particularly good Customers to Sadler's Wells, Bellsize, and the Rest of the little Places of Junketting and Enter- tainment, which are most frequented in the Neigh- bourhood of this Metropolis. Their Method upon such Occasions was to observe who was most drunk, and to watch such Persons when they came out, suffering them to walk a little before them till they came to a proper Place ; then jostling them, and next picking a Quarrel with them, they fell to fighting, and in Conclusion picked their Pockets, snatched their Hats and Wigs, or took any ather Methods that were the most likely to obtain something wherewith to support their Riots in which they indulged every Night. At last finding their Comings in not so large as they expected, they took next to Housebreaking, in which they had somewhat better Luck ; but their Expenses continuing still too much for even their large Booty to supply them, they were continually pushed upon hazarding their Lives, and hardly had any Respite from the Crimes they committed, which, as they grew numerous, made them the more known, and consequently increased the Danger. Those who make it their Business to apprehend such People having had Intelligence of most of them, which is generally the first Step in the Road to Hyde Park Corner. It is remarkable that the Observation which most of all shocks Thieves, and convinces them at once both of the Certainty and Justice of a Providence is this, that the Money never thrives with them which they amass by such unrighteous Dealings ; that though they thieve continually, they are,, notwith- standing that, always in Want, pressed on every Side 4o6 The Life of with Fears and Dangers, and never at Liberty from the uneasy Apprehensions of having incurred the Displeasure of God, as well as run themselves into the Punishments inflicted by the Law. To these general Terrors, there was added to Little tbe dis- tracting Fears of a discovery from the rash and im- petuous Tempers of his Associates, who were con- tinually defrauding one another in their Shares of the Booty, and then quarrelling, fighting, threatening, and what not, till Little sometimes at the Expense of his own Allotment, reconciled and put them in Good Humour. Nor were his fatal Conjectures on this Head without Cause ; for Bewle, though Little ahfays declared he had drawn him into such Practices, put him into an Information he made for the Sake of procuring a Pardon. A few Days after Little was taken into Custody, and at the next Sessions indicted for breaking open the House of one Mr. Deer, and taking from thence several Parcels of Goods named in the Indictment. Upon his Trial the Prosecutor swore to the Loss of his Goods, and Bewle, who had been a Confederate in the Robbery, gave Testimony also as to the Manner in which they were taken. Little, as he was conscious of his Guilt, made a very poor Defence, pretending that he was utterly unac- quainted with this Bewle, hoping that' if he could persuade the Jury to that, the Prosecutor's Evidence,v as it did not affect him personally, might not convict him ; but his Hope was vain, for Bewle confirmed what he said by so many Circumstances, that the fury gave Credit to his Testimony, and thereupon found the Prisoner guilty. Little, though he enter- tained scarcely any Hopes of Success, moved the Court earnestly to grant him Transportation ; but as John Little, a Hotisebreaker. 407 they gave him no Encouragement upon the Motion, so it must be acknowledged, he did not amuse him- self with any vain Expectations. During the Time he remained under Conviction, he behaved with great Marks of Penitence, assisted constantly at the public Devotions in the Chapel, and prayed often and fervently in the Place where he was confined. He made no Scruple of owning the False- hood of what he had asserted upon his Trial, and acknowledging the Justice of that Sentence which doomed him to Death. He seemed to be ,in very great Concern least his Wife, who was addicted to such Practices, should follow him to the same Place ; in order to prevent which, as far as it lay in his Power, he wrote to her in the most pressing Terms he was able, entreating her to take Notice of that melancholy Condition in which he then lay, miserable through the Wants under which he suffered, and still more miserable from the Apprehensions of a shameful Death, and the Doubt of being plunged also into everlasting Torment. Having finished this Letter, he began to withdraw as much as possible his Thoughts from this World, and to fix them wholly where they ought to have been placed throughout his Life, praying to God for his Assistance, and endeavouring to render himself worthy of it by a sincere Repentance. In fine, as he had been enor- mously wicked through the Course of his Life, so he was extraordinarily penitent throughout the Course of his Misfortunes, deeply affected from the Appre- hensions of temporal Punishment, but apparently more afflicted with the Sense of his Sins, and the Fear of that Punishment which the Justice of Al- mighty God might inflict upon him ; and therefore, to 4o8 The Life of the Day of his Execution, he employed every Mo- ment in crying for Mercy, and with wonderful Piety and Resignation, submitted to that Death which the Law had appointed for his Offences, on the 1 3th of September, 1725, at Tyburn. As to his own Age, that I am not able to say anything of, it not being mentioned in the Papers before me. The Life of John Price, a Housebreaker and Private Thief. |MONGST the ordinary kind of People in England Debauchery is so common, and the true Principles of Honesty and a just Life so little understood, that we need not be surprised at the numerous Sessions we see so often held in a Year at the Old Bailey, and the Mul- titudes which in Consequence of them are yearly executed at Tyburn. Fraud, which is only robbing within the Limits of the Law, is at this Time of Day, especially amongst the common People, thought a Sign of Wit, and esteemed as fair a Branch of their Calling as their Labours. Mechanics of all Sorts practice it, without showing any great Concern to hide it, especially from their own Family, in which, on the Contrary, they encourage and admire it. Their Children, instead of being reproved for their first Essays in Dishonesty, are called smart Boys, and their Tricks related to Neighbours and Visitors as Proofs of their Genius and Spirit. Yet when the Lads proceed in the same Way, after being grown John Price, a Housebreaker. 409 up, nothing too harsh or too severe can be inflicted upon them, in the Opinion of these very Parents, as if cheating at Chuck, and filching of Marbles were not as real Crimes in Children of eight Years old, as stealing of Handkerchiefs and picking of Pockets in Boys of Thirteen or Fourteen. But with the Vulgar, it is the Punishment annexed, and not the Crime, that is dreaded ; and the Commandments against Scaling and Mztrder would be as readily broke, as those against Swearing and Sabbath-breaking, if the Civil Power had not set up a Gallows at the End of them, yohn Price, of whom we are now to speak, has very little preserved concerning him in the Memoirs that lie before me ; all that I am able to say of him is that by Employment he was a Sailor, and in the Course of his Voyages had addicted himself to the Gratifying such Inclinations, as he had towards Drink or Women, without the least Concern as to the Consequences here or hereafter ; he said, indeed, that falling sick at Oporto in Portugal, and becoming very weak, and almost incapable of moving himself, the Fear of Death gave him Apprehensions of what the Justice of God might inflict on him throitgh the Ntimber and Ileinozisness of his Sins, which at last made so great an Impression on his Mind, that he put up a Solemn Vow to God, of thorough Repentance and Amendment, if it should please him to raise hifn once m,ore from that Bed of Sickness, and restore him again to his former Health. But when he had recovered, his late good Inclinations were forgotten, and the evil Examples he had before his Eyes of his Com- panions, who according to the Custom in Portugal addicted themselves to all sorts of Lewdness and Debauchery prevailed. He returned like the Dog 4IO The Life of to the Vomit, and his last State was worse than his first. On his return into England, he had still a De- sire towards the same sensual Enjoyments, was ever coveting Debauches of Drink, accompanied with the Conversation of lewd Women : but caring little for Labour, and finding no honest Employment to support the Expenses into which his Lusts obliged him to run, he therefore abandoned all Thoughts of Honesty at once, and took to Thieving, as the proper Method of supporting him in his Pleasures. When this Resolution was once taken, it was no difficult Thing to find Companions to engage with him, Houses to receive him, and Women to caress him ; on the contrary, it seemed difficult for him to choose out of the Number offered, and as soon as he had made the Choice, he and his Associates fell imme- diately to the Practice of that miserable Trade they had chosen. How long they continued to practice it before they fell into the hands of Justice, I am not able to say, but from several Circumstances it seems probable, that there was no long Time intervening ; for Price, in Company with Sparks and James Cliff, attempted the House of the Duke of Leeds ; and thrusting up the Sash-window, James Cliff was put into the Parlour, and handed out some Things to Price and Sparks, but it seems they were seen by Mr. Best, and upon their being apprehended, Cliff confessed the whole Affair, owned that it was con- certed between them, and that he handed out the Things to his Companions, Price and Sparks. At the ensuing Sessions, Price was tried for that Offence, and jJpon the Evidence of Mr. Best, the Confession of James Cliff, and Benjamin Belings acknowledging at the time of his being apprehended, John Price, a Housebreaker. 411 that he had been in the Company of Cliff and Sparks, the yury found him Guilty, as they did Cliff also, upon his own Confession. Under Sentence he seemed to have a just Sense of his preceding wicked Life, and was under no small Apprehensions con- cerning his Repentance, since it was forced and not voluntary. However, the Ordinary having satisfied his Scruples of this Sort, as far as he was able, re- commended it to him, without oppressing his Con- science with curious Fears and unnecessary Scruples, to apply himself to Prayer and other Duties of a Dying Man ; to which he seemed sufficiently in- clined, but complained that J antes Cliff, who was in the condemned Hole, prevented both him and the rest of the Criminals from their Duty, by extravagant Speeches, wild and profane Expressions, raving after the Woman he had conversed with, and abusing every Body who came near him, which partly arose from the Temper of that unhappy Person, and was also owing to his Indisposition of Body, labouring all the while he lay in. the Hole under a high Fever. An- other great Misfortune to Price, in the Condition in which he was, consisted in his Incapacity to supply the Want of the Minister s Instructions when from Chapejj through his Incapacity of Reading. How- ever, he endeavoured to make up for it as well as he could, by attending constantly at Chapel, and not only behaving gravely at Prayers, but listening atten- tively at Sermon, by which means he constantly brought away a great Part, and sometimes lost very little out of his Memory of what he heard there. In a Word, all the Criminals who were at this time under Sentence (excepting Cliff) seemed perfectly disposed to make a just Usp of that time, which the 412 The Life of peculiar Clemency of the English Law affords to Malefactors, that they may make their Peace with God, and by their Sufferings under the Hands of Men, prevent eternal Condemnation. They expressed also a great Satisfaction that their Crimes were of an ordinary Nature, and that they had no very remark- able Criminal amongst them, to occasion stareing and whispering when they came to Chapel, a thing they were much afraid of, inasmuch as it would have hin- dered their Devotions and discomposed their Minds. At the same time with Price, there lay under Con- demnation one Woolridge, who was convicted for entering the House of Elizabeth fell, in the Night- time, with a felonious Intent to take away the Goods of Daniel Brooks, but it seems he was apprehended, before he could so much as open the Chest he had designed to rob. The Thieves in Newgate usually take upon them to be very learned in the Laws, especially in respect to what relates to Evidence, and they had persuaded this unhappy Man that no Evi- ' dence which could be produced against him would affect his Life. There is no doubt but his Conviction came, therefore, upon him with great Surprise, and certain it is, that such Practices are of the utmost ill Consequence to those unhappy Malefactors. How- ever, when he found that Death was inevitable, he by Degrees began to reconcile himself thereto, and as he happened to be the only one amongst the Criminals who could read, so he with great Diligence applied himself to supply that Deficiency in his Fel- low-Prisoners ; and even after he was seized with Sickness, which brought him exceedingly low, he ceased not to strive against the Weakness of his Body, that he might do good to his Fellow-Convicts. John Price, a Housebreaker. 413 In a Word, no Temptations to Drink, nor the Desire of pleasing those who vend it. Circumstances which too often induce others in that Condition to be guilty of strange Enormities, ever had force enough to ob- trude on them more than was necessary to support Life, and to keep Up such a Supply of Spirits as enabled them to perform their Duties ; from whence it happened that the Approach of Death did not affect them with any extraordinary Fear, but both suffered with Resignation on the same Day with the former Criminals at Tybtirn. The Life of Foster Snow, a Murderer. [HERE cannot be anything more dangerous in our Conduct through human Life, than a too ready Compliance with any Inclination of the Mind ; whether it be lustful or of an irascible Nature, either transports us on the least Check into wicked Extravagancies, which are fatal in their Consequences, and suddenly overwhelm us both with Shame and Ruin. There is hardly a Page in this work but carries in it Examples which are so many strong Proofs of the Veracity of this Observation. But with respect to the Criminal we are now speaking of, his is yet a more extraordinary Case than any of the Rest ; and therefore I shall, in the Course of my Relation, make such Remarks as to me seem most, likely to render his Misfortunes, and my Account of them, useful to my Readers. Foster Snow, was the Son of very honest and reputable Parents, who gave 414 The Life of him an Education suitable to their Station in Life, which was also the same they intended to bring him up to, viz., that of a Gardener, in wliich Capacity, or as a Butler, he served Abundance of Persons of Quality with an untainted Reputation. About four- teen Years before his Death, he married and set up an Ale-house, wherein his Conduct was such that he gained the Esteem and Respect of his Neighbours, being a Man who was without any great Vices, except only Passions, in which he too much indulged him- self, and whenever he was in Drink, would launch out into unaccountable Extravagancies, both in his Words and Actions. However, it is likely this pro- ceeded in a great Measure from Family Uneasiness, which undoubtedly had for a long Time discomposed him before his committing that Murder, for which he died. When sober he might have Wisdom enough to conceal his Resentment, yet when the Fumes of Wine had clouded his Reason, he (as it is no uncom- mon Case) gave vent to his Passion, and treated with uniform Surliness all who came in his Way. Now as to the Source of these Domestic Discontents, it is apparent from the Papers I have, that they were partly occasioned by family Mismanagement, and partly from the haughty and imprudent Carriage of the unfortunate Person who fell by his Hands ; for it seems that the Woman whom Snow married, had a Daughter by a former Husband, and this Daughter she brought home to live with Mr. Snow, who was so far from being angry therewith, or treating her with that Coldness which is usual to Fathers-in-Law, that on the Contrary, he gave her the sole Direction of his House, put everything into her Hands ; and was so fond of the young Daughter she had, that Foster Snow, a Murderer. 415 greater Tenderness could not have been shown to the Child, if she had been his own. It seems that a Mr. Rawlins had found a Way to ingratiate himself with both the Mother and Daughter, but especially the latter, that although his Circumstances were not extraordinary, they gave him very extensive Credit ; and as he had a Family of Children, they sometimes suffered them to get little Matters about their House, thereby so effectually encouraging them there, that at last they were never out of it. Mr. Snow it seems took Umbrage at this, and spared not to tell Mr. Rawlins flatly, he did not desire he should come thither, which was frequently answered by the other, in oppro- bious and undervaluing Terms, which gave Mr. Snow Uneasiness enough, considering that the Man at the same Time owed him Money. This Carriage on both Sides having continued for a pretty While, and broken out in several Instances, it at last made Mr. Snow so uneasy that he could not forbear expressing his Resentment to his Wife and Family. But it had little Effect, they went on still at the same Rate ; Mr. Rawlins was frequently at the House, his Chil- dren received no less Assistances there than before ; and, in short, everything went on in such a Manner that poor Mr. Snow had enough to aggravate the Suspicions he entertained. At last it unfortunately happened that he having got a little more Liquor in his Head than ordinary, Mr. Rawlins coming into the House, he asked him for his Money, and up- braided him with his Treatment in very harsh Terms, to which the other making no less gross Replies, it kindled such a Resentment in this unfortunate Man, that after several Threats which sufficiently expressed the Rancour of his Disposition, he snatched up a 41 6 The Life of Case Knife, and pursuing the unfortunate Mr. Raw- lins, gave him therewith a mortal Wound, of which he instantly died. For this Fact he was apprehended and committed to Newgate. At the next Sessions he was indicted, first for the Murder of Thomas Rawlins, by giving him with a Knife a mortal Wound of the Breadth of an Inch, and of the Depth of seven Inches, whereby he immediately expired. He was a second Time indicted on the StahUe of Stab- bing, and a third Time also on the Coroner s Inquest, for the same Offence. Upon each of the Indict- ments the Evidence was so clear, that the fury, not- withstanding some Witnesses which he called to his Reputation, and which indeed deposed that he was a very civil, honest, and peaceable .Neighbour, found him guilty on them all, and he thereupon received Sentence of Death ; in passing which, the then Deputy Recorder, Mr. Raby, took particular Notice of the Heinousness of the Crime of Murder, and expatiated on the Equity of the Divine Law, whereby it was required that he who had shed Mans Blood by Man sho2ild his Blood be shed ; and from thence took Occasion to warn the Prisoner from being misled into any delusive Hopes of Pardon, since the Nature of his Offence was such as he could not reasonably expect it from the Royal Breast, which had ever been cautious of extending Mercy to those who had denied it unto their Fellow Subjects. Under Sentence of Death, this unhappy Man behaved himself very de- voutly, and with many Signs of true Penitence. He was from the first very desirous to acquaint himself with the true Nature of that Crime which he had committed, and finding it at once repugnant to Re- ligion, and contrary even to the Dictates of human Foster Snow, a Micrderer. 417 Nature, he began to loathe himself and his own Cruelty, crying out frequently when alone, Oh ! Murder ! Murder ! it is the Guilt of that great Sin which distracts my Soul. When at Chapel he at- tended with great Devotion to the Duties of Prayer and Service there ; but whenever the Commandments came to be repeated, at the Words, Thou shalt do no Murder, he would tremble, turn pale, shed Tears, and with a violent Agitation of Spirit, pray to God to pardon him that great Offence. To say Truth, never any Man seemed to have a truer Sense or a more quick Feeling of his Crimes, than this unhappy Man testified during his Confinement. His Heart was so far from being hardened, as is too commonly the Case with those Wretches who fall into the same Condition, that he on the Contrary afflicted himself continually, and without ceasing, as fearing that all his Penitence would be but too little in the Sight of God, for destroying his Creature, and taking away a Life which he could not restore. Amidst these Ap- prehensions, covered with Terrors and sinking -under the Weight of his Afflictions, he received the spiri- tual Assistance of the Ordinary and other Ministers, with much Meekness, and it is to be hoped with great Benefit, since they encouraged him to rely on the Mercy of God, and not by an unseasonable Diffidence to add the throwing away his own Soul by Despair, to the taking away the Life of another in his Wrath. What added to the heavy Load of his Sorrows, was the Unkindness of his Wife, who did not visit him in his Misfortunes, and administered but indifferently to his Wants. It seems the Quarrels they had had so embittered them towards one another, that very little of that Friendship was to be seen in either 2 E 4i8 The Life of which makes the marriage Bond easy, and the Yoke of Matrimony Hght. His Complaints with Respect of her occasioned some Enquiries whether he were not jealous of her Person, such Suspicions being generally the Cause of the greatest Dislikes of married People. What he spoke on this Head was exceed- ingly modest, and far from that Rancour which might have been expected from a Man whom the World insinuated had brought himself to Death by a too violent Resentment of what related to her Conduct, though no such Thing appeared from what he de- clared to those who attended him. He said, he was indeed tmeasy at the too large Credit she gave to the Deceased, but that it was of her Purse only that he entertained Suspicions ; and that as he was a dying Man, he had no ill Thoughts of her in any other Way. But with Regard to his Daughter, he ex- pressed a very great Dislike to her Behaviour, and said, her Conduct had been such as forced her Husband to leave her ; and that though he had treated her with the greatest Kindness and Affection, yet such was the Untowardness of her Dispositioii, that he had received but very sorry Rettirns. However, he to the last expressed great Uneasiness, lest after his Decease his little Grand Daughter-in-Law might suffer in her Education, of which he intended to have taken the greatest Care, this Dislike to the Mother being far enough from giving him any Aversion to the Child. It seems from the Time he had taken it home he had placed his Affections strongly upon it, and did not withdraw them even to the Hour of his Departure. As Death grew near, he was afflicted with a violent Disease, which reduced him so low, that he was incapable of coming to the Chapel ; and Foster Snow, a Mnrderej^ 419 when it abated a little, it yet left his Head so weak, that he seemed to be somewhat distracted, crying out in Chapel the Sunday before he died like one griev- ously disturbed in Mind, and expressing the greatest Agonies under the Apprehensions of his own Guilt, and the strict Justice of Him to whom he was shortly to answer. However, he forgave with all outward Appearance of Sincerity, all who had been in any Degree accessory to his Death. Being carried in a Mourning Coach to the Place of Execution, he ap- peared somewhat more composed than he had been for some Time before. He told the People, that except the Crime for which he died, he had never been guilty of anything which might bring him within the Fear of m.eeting with stuh a Death. And in this Disposition of Mind he suffered at Tyburn on the 3rd Day of November, 1725, being about fifty-five Years of Age. Immediately after his Death, a Paper was published under the Title of his Case, full of Circumstances tending to extenuate his Guilt, but such as in no way appeared upon his Trial. The Court of Old-Bailey, at the next Sessions, taking this Paper into their Consideration, were of Opinion that it reflected highly on the Justice of those who tried him, and therefore ordered the Printer to attend them to answer for this Offence. Accordingly, he attended the next Day, and being told that the Court were highly displeased with his publishing a Thing of that Nature, in order to misrepresent the Justice of their Proceedings, and that they were ready to punish him for his Contempt in the aforesaid Publication of such a Libel, Mr. Leech thought fit to prevent it by making his most humble Submission, and asking Pardon of the Court for his Offence, 420 The Life of ' assuring them that it proceeded only from Inadver- tence, and promising never to print anything of the like Sort again, whereupon the Court were graciously pleased to dismiss him only with a Reprimand, and to admonish others of the same Profession, that they should be cautious for the Future of doing anything which might reflect in any Degree upon the Proceed- ings before them. T/ze Life of John Whalebone, alias Welbone, a Thief &c. IHIS Malefactor was born in the Midst of the City of London, in the ' Parish of St. Dionis Back Church. His Parents were Persons in but mean Circumstances, who, however, strained them to the uttermost to give their Son a tolerable Education. They were espe- cially careful to instruct him in the Principles of Re- ligion, and were therefore under an excessive Con- cern when they found that neglecting all other Business, he endeavoured only to qualify himself for the Sea. However, finding his Inclinations so strong that Way, they got him on board a Man-of-war, and procured such a Recommendation to the Captain, that he was treated with great Civility during the Voyage, and if he had had any Inclination to have done well, would in all Probability have been much encouraged. But he, after several Voyages to Sea, took it as strongly in his Head to go no more, as he had before to go, whether his Parents would or no. John Whalebone, a Thief, &c. 421 He then cried old Clothes about the Streets ; but not finding any great Encouragement in that Employ- ment, he was easily drawn in by some wicked People of his Acquaintance, to take what they called the shortest Method of getting Money, which was, in plain English, to go Thieving. He ~had very ill Luck in his new Occupation, for in six Weeks' Time after his first setting out, he, on the Information of one of his Companions, was apprehended, tried, con- victed, and ordered for Transportation. It was his Fortune to be delivered to a Planter in South Carolina, who employed him to labour in his Plantations, afforded him good Meat and Drink, and treated him rather better than our Farmers treat their Servants here, which leads me to say something con- cerning the Usage such People meet with, when carried, as the Law directs, to our Plantations, in order to rectify certain gross Mistakes, as if English- men abroad had totally lost all Humanity, and treated their fellow Creatures and fellow Countrymen as Slaves or as Brutes. The Colonies on the Continent of America now take off the greatest Part of the Criminals who are transported for Felony from Britain, most of the Island Colonies ■ having long ago refused to re- ceive them. The Countries into which they are now sold, trade chiefly in such kind of Commodities as are produced in England, unless it be Tobacco. The Employment therefore of Persons thus sent over, is either in attending Husbandry, or in the Culture of this Plant, being thereby exposed to no more Hard- ships than they would have been obliged to have undergone at home in order to have got an honest Livelihood ; so that unless their being obliged to 422 The Life of work for their Living, is to pass for great Hard- ship, I do not conceive where it can else lie, since the Law, rather than shed the Blood of Persons for small Offences, or where they appear not to have gone on for a Length of Time in them, by its Lenity, changes the Punishment of Death into sending them amongst their own Countrymen at a Distance from their ill- disposed Companions, who might probably seduce them to commit the same Offences again, and directs also that this Banishment shall be for such a Length of Time, as may be suitable to the Guilt of the Crime, and render it impracticable for them on their Return to meet with their old Gangs and Acquaint- ance, making by this Means a happy Mixture both of Justice and Clemency, dealing mildly with them for the Offence already committed, and endeavouring to put it even out of their own Power by fresh Offences to draw a heavier Judgment upon themselves. But to return to this W halebone. The kind Usage of his Master, the easiness of the Life which he lived, and the certainty of Death if he attempted to return home, could not all of them pre- vail upon him to lay aside the Thoughts of coming back again to London, and there giving himself up to those sensual Delights which he had formerly en- joyed. Opportunities are seldom wanting where Men incline to make Use of them, especially to one who had been bred as he was to the Sea ; so that in a Year and a-half after his being settled there, he took such Ways of recommending himself to a cer- tain Captain, as induced him to bring him home, and set him safe on Shore near Harwich. He travelled on Foot up to London, and was in Town but a few Days before being accidentally taken Notice of by a John Whalebone, a Thief, &c. 423 Person who knew him, he caused him to be appre- hended, and kt the next Sessions at the Old Bailey he was convicted of such illegal Return, and ordered for Exeadion. At first he pretended that he thought it no Crime for a Man to return into his own Country, and therefore did not think himself bound to repent of that. Whatever Arguments the Ordinary made use of to persuade him to a Sense of his Guilt I know not, but because this is an Error into which such People are very apt to fall, and as there want not some of the Vulgar who take it for a great Hard- ship, also making it one of those Topics upon which they take Occasion to harangue against the Severity of a Law that they do not understand, I think it will not therefore be improper to explain it: Transportation is a Punishment whereby the Bri- tish Law commutes for Offences which would other- wise be capital ; and therefore a Contract is plainly presumed between every Felon transported, and the Court by whose Authority he is ordered for Trans- portation, that the said Felon shall remain for such a term of Years as the Law directs, without returning into any of the Kings Etiropean Dominions, and the Court plainly acquaints the Felon, that if in Breach of his Agreement he shall so return, in such Case the Contract shall be deemed void, and the capital Punishment remaining uncommuted by such Default shall then take Place. To say, then, that a Person who enters into an Agreement like this, and is perfectly acquainted with its Conditions, knowing that no less than his Life must be forfeited by the Breach of them, and yet wilfully breaks them — to say that such a Person as this is guilty of no Offence, must in the Opinion of every Person of common 424 The Life of Understanding be the greatest Absurdity that can be asserted ; and to call that Severity, which only is the Law taking its Forfeit, is a very great Impropriety, and proceeds from a foolish and unreasonable Com- passion. This I think so plain that Nothing but Prepossession or Stupidity can hinder People from comprehending it. As to Whalebone, when Death approached, he laid aside all these Excuses, and ap- plied himself to what was much more material, the making a proper Use of that little Time which yet remained for Repentance. He acknowledged all the Crimes which he had committed in the former Part of his Life, and the Justice of that Sentence by which he had been condemned to Transportation, and having warned the People at his Execution to avoid of all Things being led into ill Company, he suffered with much seeming Pentitence, together with the afore-mentioned Malefactors at Tyburn, being then about thirty-eight Years of Age. The Life of James Little, Footpad and High- wayman. \AMES LLTTLE was a Person descended from Parents very honest and industrious, though of small Fortune ; they bred him up with all the Care they were able, and when he came to a fit Age, put him out to an honest Employment. But he in his Youth having taken a peculiar Fancy to his Father's Profession of a Painter, he thereto attained in so great a Degree as to be ^^Bj James Little, a Highwayman. 425 able to earn twelve or fifteen Shillings in a Week, when he thought fit to work hard, but that was very seldom, and he soon contracted such a Hatred to working at all, that associating with some wild young Fellows, he kept himself, continually drunk and mad, not caripg what he did for Money so he supplied himself, with Enough to procure him Liquor. Amongst the Rest of those debauched Persons with whom he conversed, there was especially one Sand- ford, with whom he was peculiarly intimate. This Fellow was a Soldier, of a rude, loose Disposition, who took a particular Delight in making Persons whom he conversed with as bad as himself. Having one Sunday, therefore, got Little into his Company, and drank him to such a Pitch that he had scarcely any Sense, he next began to open to him a new_ Method of Living, as he called it, which was neither more nor less than going on the Highway. Little was so far gone in his Cups, that he did not so much as know what he was saying. At last Sandford rose up, and told him, it was a good Time now to go out upon their Attempts, upon which Little got up too, and went out with him. They had not gone far before the Soldier drew out a Pair of Pistols, and robbed two or three Persons, while Little stood by so very drunk, that he was both unable to have hurt the Persons or to have defended himself. He said, he robbed no more with the Soldier, who was soon after taken up and hanged, at the same Time with Jonathan Wild. Yet the sad Fate of his Companion had very little Effect upon this unhappy Lad ; he fell afterwards into an Acquaintance with some of John Shepherd's Mistresses, and they continually dinning in'his Ears what great Exploits that famous 426 The Life of Robber had committed, they unfortunately prevailed upon him to go again into the same Way, but it was as fatal to him as it had been to his Companion ; for Little having robbed one Lionel Mills in open Fields, put him in Fear, and taken from him a Hand- kerchief, three Keys, and sixteen Shillings in Money, not contented with which, he pulled the Turnover off from his Neck hastily, and thereby had like to have strangled him, — for this Offence the Man pursued him with unwearied Diligence, and he being taken up thereupon, was quickly after charged with another Robbery, committed on one Mr. Evans, in the same Month, who lost a Cane, three Keys, and twenty Pounds in Money. On these two Offences he was convicted at the next Sessions at the Old Bailey, and having no Friends, could therefore entertain little Expectation of Pardon, especially considering how short a Time it was since he received Mercy before, being under Sentence at the same Time with the Soldier before-mentioned, and fonathan Wild, and discharged then upon his making certain Discoveries. He pretended to much Penitence and Sorrow, but it did not appear in his Behaviour, having been guilty of great Levity when brought up to Chapel, to which perhaps the Crowds of Strangers, who, from an unaccountable Humour desire to be present on those melancholy Occasions, did not a little contribute. At other Times, it must be owned, he did not behave himself in any such Manner, but seemed rather grave and willing to receive instruction, of which he had a sufficient Want, knowing very little but of Debauchery and Vice. However, he reconciled himself by De- grees to the Thought of Death, and behaved with Tranquility enough during the small Space that was James Little, a Highwayman. 427 left him to prepare for it. At the Place of Execution he looked less astonished, though he spoke much less to the People than the Rest, and died seemingly- composed, at the same Time with the other Malefac- tors, Snow and Whalebone, being at the Time of his Execution in his seventeenth Year. The Life of John Hamp, Footpad and Highwayman. I H I S unhappy Person, John Hamp, was born of honest and reputable Parents in the Parish of St. Giles's without Cripplegate. They took great Pains with his Educa- tion, and the Lad seemed in his juvenile Years to deserve it ; he was a Boy of Abundance of Spirits, and his Friends at his own Request put him out Apprentice to a Man whose Trade it was to lath Houses. He did not stay out his Time with him ; but being one Evening with some drunken Com- panions at an Ale-house, near the Iron Gate by the Tower, three of them Sailors on board a Man-of- war, (there being at that Time a great Want of Men, and a Squadron fitting out for the Baltic), these Sailors, therefore, observing all the Company very drunk, put it into their Heads to make an Agreement for their going altogether this Voyage to the North. Drink wrought powerfully in their Favour, and in less than two Hours' Time, Hamp and two other of his Companions fell in with the Sailors Motion, and talked of Nothing but braving the Czar, and seeing the Rarities of Copenhagen. The fourth Man of 428 The Life of Hamps Company stood out a little, but half-an-hour's Rhodomontade and another Bowl of Punch brought him to be a Sailor. Upon this one of the Seamen stepped out, and gave Notice to his LietUenant, who was drinking not far off, of the great Service he had performed. The Lieutenant was mightily pleased with Jack Tars Diligence, promised to pay the Reckoning, and give each of them a Guinea besides. In a quarter of an hour after the Lieutenant came in ; the Fellows were all so drunk that he was forced to send for more Hands belonging to the Ship, who carried them to the long Boat, and therein laying them down, and covering them with Men's Coats, con- veyed them on board that Night. There is no Doubt but Hanip was very much surprised when he found the Situation he was in the next Morning, but as there was no Remedy, he acquiesced without making any Words, and so began the Voyage cheerfully. Everybody knows there was no fighting in these Baltic Expeditions, so that all the Hardships they had to combat with were those of the Sea and the Weather, which were indeed bad enough to People of an English Constitution, and who were very unfit to bear the extreme Cold. While they lay before Copenhagen an Accident happened to one of Hamp's Acquaintance, which much affected him at that Time, and it would certainly have been happy for him if he had retained a just Sense of it always. There was one Scrimgeous, a very merry debonair Fellow, who used to make not only the Men, but sometimes the Officers merry on board the Ship. He was particu- larly remarkable for being always full of Money, of which he was no Niggard, but ready to do anybody a Service, and consequently was very far from being John Hamp,.« Highwayman. 429 ill-belqved. This Man being one Day on Shore, and going to purchase some fresh Provision to make merry with amongst his Companions, somebody took Notice of a Dollar that was in his Hand, and Scrim- geotis wanting Change, the Man readily offered to give smaller Money. Scrimgeous thereupon gave him the Dollar, and having afterwards bargained for what he wanted, was just going on board,, when a Danish Officer, with a File of Men, came to appre- hend him for a Coiner. The Fellow, conscious of his Guilt, and suspicious of their Intent, seeing the Man amongst them who had changed the Dollar, took to his Heels, and springing into the Boat, the Men rowed him on board immediately, where as soon as he was got, Scrimgeoiis fancied himself out of all Danger. But in this he was terribly mistaken, for early the next Morning, three Danish Commissaries came on board the Admiral's Ship, and acquainted him thai a Seaman on board his Fleet had counter- feited their Coin to a very considerable Value, and was yesterday detected in ptMing off a Dollar ; that there- tipon an Officer had been ordered to seize him, but that he had made his escape by jumping into the long Boat of such a Ship, on board of which they were informed he was ; they therefore desired he m,ight be given up in order to be punished. The Admiral declined that, but assured him, upon due Proof he would punish him with the greatest Severity on board. Having in the meanwhile dispatched a Lieutenant and twenty Men on board Scrimgeous s Ship, with the Dane who detected him in putting off false Money, he was secured immediately, and upon searching his Trunk, they found there near a hundred false Dollars, so artificially made, that none of the Ship's Crew could 430 The Life of have distinguished them from the true. He was im- mediately carried on board the Admiral's Ship, who ordered him to be confined. Soon after a Court- martial which sat condemned him to be whipped from Ship to Ship, which was performed in the View of the Danish Commissary, with so much Rigour, that instead of expressing any Notion of the English showing Favour to their Countrymen upon any such Occasion, they interposed to mitigate the Fellow's Sufferings, and humbly besought the Admiral to omit lashing him on board three of the last Ships, but in this Request, they were civilly refused, and the Sentence which had been pronounced against him, was executed upon him with the utmost Severity. It happening that Hamp was one of the Persons who rowed him from Ship to Ship, it filled him with so much Terror that he was scarcely able to perform his Duty. The Wretch himself was made such a terrible Spectacle of Misery, that not only Hamp, but all the Rest who saw him after his last Lashing, were shocked at the Sight ; and though it was shrewdly suspected that some others had been con- cerned with him, yet this Example had such an Effect, that there were no more Instances of any false Money uttered from that Time. It was near five Years after Hamp went first to Sea, that he began to think of returning home and working at his Trade again ; and after this Thought had once got into his Head, as is usual with such Fellows, he was never easy until he had accomplished it, for doing which, an Opportunity offered soon after. The Ship he belonged to was recalled and paid off, and fohn having very little to receive, the great Delight he took in drinking made him so constant a Customer John Hamp, a Highwayman. 431 to a certain Officer in the Ship, that all was near spent by the time he came home. That however would have been no great Misfortune, had he stuck close to his Employment, and avoid those Excesses of which he had been formerly guilty, but alas ! this was by no Means in his Power. He drank rather harder after his Return than he had done before ; and if he might be credited at that Time, when the Law allows what is said to pass for Evidence, viz.\ in the Agony of Death, it was this Love of Drink that brought him, without any other Crime, to his shame- ful End, the Manner of which I shall next fully relate. Hamp, passing one Night very drunk through the Street, a Woman, as is usual enough for common Street-walkers to do, took him by the Sleeve, and after some immodest Discourse, asked him, if he would not go into her Mother's and take a Pot with her. To this Motion Hamp readily agreed, and had not been long in the House before he fell fast asleep in the Company of James Bird, who was hanged with him, the Woman who brought him into the House, and an old Woman, whom she called her Mother. By-and-bye certain Persons came, who ap- prehended him and James Bird, for being in a dis- orderly House, and having carried them to the Watch-house, they were there both charged with robbing and beating, in a most cruel and barbarous Manner, a poor old Woman near Rag Fair. At the next Old Bailey Sessions they were both tried for this Fact, and the Woman's Evidence being positive against them, they were likewise convicted. Hamp behaved himself with great Serenity while under Sentence, declaring always, that he had not the least 432 The Life of Knowledge of Bird, until the Time they were taken up ; that in all his Lifetime he had never acquired a Halfpenny in a dishonest Manner, and that although he had so much abandoned himself to Drinking and other Debaucheries, yet he constantly worked hard at his Employment, in order to get Money to support them. As to the Robbery, he said, he knew no more of it than the Child unborti ; that he readily believed all that the Woman swore to be true, except her Mistake in the Persons ; and that as to Bird, he could not take upon himself to say that he was not concerned in it. A Divine of Eminence in the Church, being so charitable as to visit him, spoke to him very particularly on this Head. He told him that a jury of his Countrymen on their Oaths had unanimously foimd him Guilty, that the Law upon stich a Conviction had appointed hiTn to Death, and that there appeared not the least Hopes of his being any ways able to prevent it ; that the denying of his Guilt, therefore, could not possibly be of any Use to him here, but might probably ridn hifn for ever here- after, that if he wotdd act wisely in this unfortunate Situation, into which his Vices had brought him, he would make an ample Acknowledgement of the Crime he had committed, and own the Justice of Providence in bringing him to Condemnation, instead of leaving the World in the Assertion of a Falsehood, and rush- ing into the Presence of Almighty God with a Lie in his Mouth. This Exhortation was made publicly, and Hamp after having heard it with great Attention, answered it in the following Terms : / am very sen- sible. Sir, of your Goodness in affording m-e this Visit, and am no less obliged to you for your pressing In- . stances to induce me to Confession ; but then as I know John Hamp, a tlighwayman. 433 the Matter of Fact, so I am sure if it be not true, you would not press me to own it. I aver that the Charge against me is titterly false in every Particular. I freely acknowledge that T have led a m.ost dissolute Life, and abandoned myself to all kind of Wickedness ; but should I to satisfy some Persons' Importunities, own also the fustice of my present Sentence, as arising from the Truth of the Fact, I should thereby become Guilty of the very Crime you, warn me of, and go out of the World indeed, in the very Act of telling an Untrttth. Besides, of what Use would it be to me, who have not the least Hopes of Pardon, to persist in a Lie, merely for the Sake of deceiving others, who may talk of my miserable Death as a Piece of News, and at the same Time cheat myself in what is m-y last and greatest Concern ? I beg, therefore, to be troubled no more on this Head, but to be left to m-ake m^y Peace with God for those Sins which I have really committed, without being pressed to offend him yet more by taking upon me that which I really know nothing of. The Ordinary of Newgate hereupon went into the Hole to examine Bird, who lay there in a sick and lament- able Condition. He confirmed all that Hamp had said, declared he never saw him in his Life before the Night in which they were taken up, acknowledged himself to be a great Sinner and an old Offender, that he had been often taken up before for Thefts ; but as to the present Case he peremptorily insisted on his Innocence, and that he knew Nothing of it. At the Place of Execution Hamp appeared very composed, and with a Cheerfulness that is seldom seen in the Countenances of Persons when they come to the Tree, and are on the very Verge of Death. He spoke for a few Minutes to the People to this 2 F 434 The Life of Purpose : that he had been a grievous Sinner, much addicted to Women, and much more to Drinking ; that for these Crimes he thought the Justice of God righteous in bringing him to a shameful Death ; but as to assaulting the Woman in Rag Fair he again protested his Innocence, and declared he never com- mitted any Robbery whatsoever, desired the Prayers of the People in his last Moments, and then applying himself to some short private Devotions, resigned himself with much Calmness to his Fate, on Wednes- day, the 22nd of December, 1725, at Tyburn, being then in the 25th Year of his Age. ^zVaT confirming, as well as the Craziness of his distempered Head would give him Leave, the Truth of what Hamp had said. The Lives of John Austin, a Footpad, John Foster, a Housebreaker, and Richard Scurrier, a Shop- lifter. AMONGST the Number of those extraordi- nary Events which may be remarked in the Course of these melancholy Memoirs, of those who have fallen Martyrs to Sin, and Victims to Justice, there is scarce anything more remarkable than the finding a Man who hath led an honest and reputable Life, till he hath attained to the Summit of Life, and then without abandoning him- self to any notorious Vices, that may be supposed to lead him into Rapine and Stealth in order to support him, to take himself on a sudden to robbing on the John Austin, a Footpad, &c. 435 Highway, and so finish a painful and industrious Life by a violent and shameful Death. Yet this is exactly the Case before us. The Criminal of whom we are first to speak, viz.^ yohn Austin, was the Son of very honest People, having not only been bred up in good Principles, but seeming also to retain them. He was put out young to a Gardener, in which Employment being brought up he became afterwards a Master for himself, and lived, as all his Neighbours report it, with a very fair Character as any Man thereabout. On a sudden he was taken up for assaulting and knocking down a Man in Stepney Fields, with a short, round, heavy Club, and taking from him his Coat, in the beginning of November, 1725, about Seven o'clock in the Morning. The Evidence being clear and direct, the y^lry, notwithstanding the Persons he called to his Character, found him guilty. He re- ceived Sentence of Death accordingly, and after a Report had been made to his Majesty was ordered for Execution. During the Space he lay under Con- viction, he at first denied, then endeavoured to exte- nuate his Crime, by saying he did indeed knock the Man down, but that the Man struck him first with an iron Rod he had in his Hand ; and in this Story for some Time he firmly persisted. But when Death made a nearer Approach, he acknowledged the Falsity of these Pretences, and owned the Robbery in the Manner in which he had been charged there- with. Being asked how a Man in his Circumstances, being under no Necessities, but on the Contrary, in a Way very likely to do well, came to be guilty of so unaccountable an Act, as the knocking down a poor Man and taking away his Coat, he said, that thoiigh he was in a fair Way of living, and had a very 436 The Life of careful and industrious Wife ; yet for some Time last past he had been disturbed in his Mind, and that the Morning he committed the Robbery he took the Chcb out of his own House, being an Instrument made use of by his Wife in the Trade of a Silk Throster, and from, a sudden Impulse of Mind attacked the Man in the Manner which had been sworn against him. He appeared to be a Person of no vicious Principles, had been guilty of very few Crimes, except drinking to Excess sometimes, and that but seldom, the Sin which most troubled him, being his ordinary Practice as a Gardener, in spending the Lord's Day mostly in hard Work, viz., in packing up Things for Monday s Market. He was very penitent for the Offence which he had committed, and attended the Service of Chapel duly, prayed constantly and fervently in the Place of his Confinement, and suffered Death with much Serenity and Resolution, averring with his last Breath, that it was the first and last Act which he had ever committed, being at the Time of his Death about thirty-seven Years old. The second of these Malefactors, John Foster, was the Son of a very poor Man, who yet did his utmost to give his Son all the Education that was in his Power ; and finding he was resolved to do Nothing else, sent him with a very honest Gentleman to Sea. He continued there about seven Years, and as he met with no remarkable Accidents in .the Voyages he made himself, my Readers may perhaps not be dis- pleased if I mention a very singular one which befel his Master. His Ship having the Misfortune to fall into the Hands of the French, they plundered it of everything that was in the least Degree valuable, and then left him, with thirty-five Men, to the Mercy John Austin, a Footpad, &c. 437 of the Waves. In this distressed Condition, he with much Difficulty made the Shore of Newfozirndland, and had Nothing to subsist on but Biscuit and a Httle Water. Knowing it was to no Purpose to ask those who were settled there for Provisions without Money or Eff"ects, he landed himself and eighteen Men, and carried off a Dozen Sheep and eight Hogs. They were scarce returned on Board, before it sprung up a brisk Gale, and driving them from their Anchors, obliged them to put to Sea. It blew very hard all that Day and the next Night. The Morning follow- ing the Wind abated, and they discovered a little Vessel before them, which, by crowding all the Sails she was able, endeavoured to bear away. The Cap- tain thereupon gave her Chase, and coming at last up with her perceived she was French, upon which he gave her a Broadside, and the Master knowing it was impossible to defend her immediately struck. They found in her a large Quantity of Provisions, and in the Masters Cabin a Bag with seven hundred Pistols. No sooner had the English taken out the Booty, but they gave the Captain and his Crew Liberty to sail where they pleased, leaving them sufficient Provisions for a Subsistance. They stood in again for Newfoundland, where the Captain paid the Person who was owner of the Sheep and Hogs he had taken, as much as he demanded, making him also a handsome Present besides, thereby giving Foster a remarkable Example of Integrity and Jus- tice, if he had had Grace enough to have followed it. When the Ship came home, and its Crew were paid off", he betook himself to loose Company, loved drink- ing and idling about, especially with ill Women. At last he was drawn in by some of his Companions to 438 The Life of assist in breaking open the House of Capt. Tolson, and stealing thence Linen and other Things to a great Value. For this Offence being apprehended, some Promises were made him in Case of Dis- coveries, which, as he said, he made accordingly, and therefore thought it a great Hardship that they were not performed ; but the Gentleman whoever he was that made him those Promises took no further Notice of him, so that Foster beiijg tried thereupon, the Evidence was very clear against him, and the fury, after a very short Consideration, found him guilty. Under Sentence he behaved with great Sorrow for his Offence ; he wept whenever any Exhortations were made to him, confessed himself one of the greatest of Sinners, and with many heavy Expressi 3ns of Grief seemed to doubt whether, even from the Mercy of God, he could expect Forgiveness. Those whose Duty it was to instruct him how to prepare himself for Death, did all they could to convince him that the greatest Danger of not being forgiven arose from such Doubtings, and persuaded him to allay the Fears of Death by a settled Faith and Hope in Jesus Christ. When he had a while reflected on the Promises made in Scripture on the Nature of Re- pentance itself, and the Relation there is between Creatures and their Creator, he became at last better satisfied, and bore the Approach of Death with tole- rable Cheerfulness. When the Day of Execution came he received the Sacrament, as is usual for Per- sons in his Condition. He declared then that he heartily forgave all who had injured him, and parti- cularly the Person who, by giving him Hopes of Life, had endangered his eternal Safety. He sub- mitted cheerfully to the Decrees of Providence and John Austin, a Footpad, &c. 439 the Law of the Land, being at the Time he suffered about thirty-seven Years of Age. Richard Sairrier was the Son of a Blacksmith, residing at Kingston-tcp'on- Thames. He followed for a Time his Father's Business, but growing totally- weary of working honestly for his Bread he left his Relations, and without any just Motive or Expecta- tion came up to London. He here betook himself to driving a Hackney Coach, which as he himself acknowledged, was the first Inlet into all his Misfor- tunes, for thereby he got into loose and extravagant Company, living in a continued Series of Vices, un- enlightened by the Grace of God, or any Intervals of a virtuous Practice. Such a Road of Wickedness soon induced him to take illegal Methods for Money to support it. The Papers which I have in my Hands concerning him do not say whether the Fact he committed was done at the Persuasion of others, or merely out of his own wicked Inclinations. Nay, I cannot be so much as positive whether he had any Associates or no ; but he in the Beginning of his thievish Practices committed a Petty Larceny, which was immediately discovered. He thereupon was ap- prehended and committed to Newgate. At the next Sessions he was tried, and the Fact being plain, con- victed, but being very young, the Court, with its usual Tenderness, determined to soften his Punish- ment into a private Whipping. But before this was done, he, joining with some other desperate Fellows, forced the outward Door of the Prison as the Keeper was going in and escaped. He was no sooner at Liberty, but he fell to his old Trade, and was just as unlucky as he had been before ; for taking it into his Head to run off with a Firkin of Butter, which he 440 The Life of saw standing in a Cheesemonger s Shop, he was again taken in the Fact, and within the Space of a few Weeks recommitted to his old Lodging. At first he apprehended the Crime to be so trivial, that he was not in the least afraid of Death, and therefore his Amazement was the greater when he was capitally convicted. During the first Day after Sentence had been pronounced, the Extremity of Grief and Fear made him behave like one distracted. As he came a little to himself, and was instructed by those who charitably visited him, he owned the Justice of his Sentence, which had been passed upon him, and the notorious Wickedness of his mispent Life. He be- haved with great Decency at Chapel, and as well as a mean Capacity and a small Education would give him Leave, prayed in the Place of his Confinement. As there is little remarkable in this Malefactor's Life permit me to add an Observation or two concerning the Nature of Crimes punished with Death in Eng- land, and the Reasonableness of any Project which would answer the same End as Death, viz., securing the Public from any of their future Rapine, without sending the poor Wretches to the Gallows, and push- ing them headlong into the other World for every little Offence. The Gallies in other Nations serve for this Purpose, and the Punishment seems well suited to the Crime. A Man steals once, and is con- demned to hard Labour all his Life after. He suffers sufficiently for his Offence ; yet his Life is preserved, and he is notwithstanding effectually deprived of all means of doing further Mischief We have no Gallies, it is true, in the Service of the Crown of Britain, but there are many other laborious Works to which they might be put, so as to be useful to John Austin, a Footpad, &c. 441 their Country. As to Transportation, though it may at first Sight seem intended for the Purpose, yet if we look into it with ever so httle Attention, we shall see that it does not at all answer the End ; for we find by Experience, that in a Year's Time, many of them are here again, and are ten Times more danger- ous Rogues than they were before. And in the Plantations they generally behave themselves so ill, that many Have refused to receive them, and have even laid Penalties on the Captains who shall land them within the Bounds of their Jurisdiction. It were certainly, therefore, more advantageous to the Public that they worked hard here, than be either forced upon the Planters abroad, or left in a Capacity to return to their Villanies at home, where the Punishment being capital, serves only to make them less merciful and more resolute. This I propose only, and pretend not to dictate. But it is now time we return to the last-mentioned Criminal, Richard Sairrier, and inform you that at the Time he suffered he was scarcely eighteen Years of Age, dying with the Malefactors Hamp, Bird, Austin, and Foster, before-mentioned, on the twenty-second of December, 1725, at Tyburn. 442 The Life of Tke Life of Francis Bailey, a notorious High- wayman. IHAT ill Company, and an habitual Course of indulging vicious Inclinations of a Na- ture not punishable by human Laws, should at last lead Men to the Commission of such Crimes as from the Injury done to Society require capital Punishment to be inflicted, is a Thing we so often meet with that its Frequency alone is sufficient to warn Men of the Danger there is in becoming acquainted, much more of conversing familiarly with, wicked and debauched Persons. This Criminal, Francis Bailey, was one of the Number of those Examples from whence this Observation arises. He was born of Parents of the lowest Degree in Wor- cestershire, who were either incapable of giving him any Education, or took so little Care about it, that at the Time he went out into the World he could neither write nor read. However, they bound him Apprentice to a Baker, and his Master took so much Care of him that he was in a fair Way of doing well if he would have been industrious, but instead of that he quitted his Employment to fall into that Resort of Vice and Laziness, the entering into a Regiment as a com7non Soldier. However, he behaved himself in this State so well that he became a Cor- poral and Sergeant, which last, though a Preferment of small Value, is seldom given to Persons of no Education. But it seems Bailey had Address enough to get that passed by, and lived with a good Reputa- Francis 'Qa.ii.ey, a Highwayman. 443 tlon in the Army near twenty Years. During this Space, with whatever Cover of Honesty he appeared abroad, yet he failed not to make up whatever De- ficiencies his irregular Course of Life might occasion, by robbing upon the Highway i though he had the good Luck never to be apprehended, or indeed sus- pected, till the Fact which brought him to his End. His first Attempt in this Kind happened thus : The Regiment in which he served was quartered at a great Road Town. Bailey having no Employment for the greatest Part of his Time, and being incapable of diverting himself by Reading or innocent Conver- sation, knew not therefore how to employ his Hours. It happened one Evening that in a Crew of his idle Companions there was one who had been formerly intimate with a famous Highwayman. This Fellow entertained the Company with the Relation of Abund- ance of Adventures which had befallen him on the Road, till he had saved about seven hundred Pounds, wherewith he retired (as this Man said) to jfamaica, and lived there in great Splendour, having set up a Tavern, and by his facetious Conversation, acquired more Custom thereto than that of any other Public- house in the Island. As Bailey had listened with great Attention to this Story, so it ran in his Head that Night that this was the easiest Method of ob- taining Money, and that with Prudence there was no great Danger of being detected. Money at that Time ran low, and he resolved the next Day to make the Experiment. Accordingly he procured, a Horse and Arms in the Evening, and at Dusk sallied out, with the Intent of stopping the first Passenger he should meet. A Country Clergyman happened to be the Man. No sooner did Bailey approach him with 444 T^''^ Life of the usual Salutation of Stand and Deliver, but putting his Hand in his Pocket, and taking out some Silver, he in a great Fright, and as it were trembling, put it into Bailey's Hat, who thereupon carelessly let go the Reins of his Horse, and went to put the Money up in his own Pocket. The Parson upon seeing that clapped Spurs to his Horse, and throwing his right Elbow with all his Force under Bailey s left Breast, gave him such a Blow as made him tumble back- wards off his Horse, the Parson riding off as hard as he could with a good Watch and near forty Pounds in Gold in his Purse. So ill a setting out might have marred a Highwayman of less Courage than him of whom we are speaking. But Frank Was not to be frightened either from Danger or Wickedness, when he had once got it into his Head. So as soon as he came a little to himself, and had caught his Horse, he resolved, by looking more carefully after the next Prize, to make up what he fancied he had lost by the Parson. With this Intent he rode on about a Mile, when he met with a Waggon, in which were three or four yoimg Wenches, who had been at Service in London, and were going to several Places in the Country to see their Relations. Bailey, notwith- standing there were three Men belonging to the Waggon, stopped it, and rifled it of seven Pounds, and then very contentedly retired to his Quarters. Flushed with this Success, he never after wanted Money, but took this Method of supplying himself, managing, after the Affair of the Parson, with so much Caution, that though he robbed on the greatest Road, he was never so much as once in Danger by a Pursuit. Perhaps he did not owe a little of his Security to the never taking any Pai'tner in the Com- Francis "Q ku. -ey, a Highwayman. 445 mission of his Villanies, to which he was once in- cHned, though diverted from it by an Accident, which to a less obstinate Person might have proved a sufficient Warning to have quitted such Exploits for good and all. Bailey being one Day at an Ale-house, not far from Moorfields, fell into the Conversation of an Irishman of a very gay and lively Temper, perfectly suited to the Humour of our Knight of the Road. They talked together with mutual Satisfaction for about two Hours, and then the Stranger whispered Bailey, that if he would step to such a Tavern, he would give him part of a Bottle and Fowl. Thither accordingly he walked. His Companion came in soon after ; to Supper they went, and parted about twelve in high good Humour, appointing to meet the next Evening but one. Bailey the Day after was upoji the Barnet Road, following his usual Occupa- tion, when looking by Chance over the Hedges, he perceived the Person he parted with the Night before stop a Chariot with two Ladies in it, and as soon as he had robbed them rode down a cross Lane. Bailey hereupon, after taking nine Guineas from a Noble- mans Steward, whom he met about a quarter of an Hour after, returned to his Lodgings at a little blind Brandy Shop in Piccadilly, resolving the next Day to make a Proposal to his new Acquaintance of join- ing their Forces. With this View he staid at home all Day, and went very punctually in the Evening to the Place of their Appointment, but to his great Mortification the other never came ; and Bailey, after waiting some Hours, went away. As he was going home he happened to step into an Ale-house in Fore Street, where, recollecting that the House in which 446 The Life of he had first seen this Person was not far off, it came into his Head that if he went thither he might pos- sibly hear some News of him. Accordingly he went to the Place, where he had hardly called for a Mug of Drink and a Pipe of Tobacco, but the Woman saluted him with O lack, Sir ! don't you remember a Gentleman in red you spoke to here the other Day ? Yes, replied Bailey, does he live hereabouts ? I don't know, says the Woman, indeed where he lives, but he was brought to a Surgeons hard by, about three Hours ago, terribly wounded. My Husband is just going to see him. Though Bailey could not but perceive that there might be Danger in his going thither, yet his Curiosity was so strong that he could not forbear. As soon as he entered the Room the wounded Man, who was just dressed, beckoned to him, and desired to speak with him. He went near enough not to have anything overheard, when the Man in a low Voice told him that he was mortally wounded in riding off after robbing a Gentleman s Coach, and advised him to be cautious of himself; for (says the Dying Man) / knew you to be a Brother of the Road as soon as I saw you, and if ever you trust any Man with that Secret, you may even prepare yourself for Execution, as ?nuch as if you had sur- rendered yourself into the Hands of Jtistice. In half-an-hour he fell into fainting Fits, and then became Speechless, and died in the Evening, to the no little Coricern of his new Acquaintance Bailey. Some Months after this Frank ^zs, apprehended for break- ing open a House in Piccadilly, and stealing Pewter, Table Linen, and other Household Stuff, to a con- siderable Value. He was convicted at the ensuing Sessions at the Old Bailey for this Crime, upon the Francis '^kw.y.y, a Highwayman. 447 Oath of a Woman who had no very good Character. Though he acknowledged abundance of Crimes of which there was no Proof against him, yet he abso- lutely denied that for which he was condemned, and persisted in that denial to his Death, notwithstanding that the Ordinary and other Ministers represented to him how great a Folly, as well as Sin, it was for him to go out of the World with a Lie in his Mouth. He said indeed he had been guilty of a Multitude of heinous Sins and Offences, for which God did with great Justice bring him unto that ignominious End. Yet he persisted in his Declarations of Innocence as to Housebreaking, in which he affirmed he had never been at all concerned, and with the strongest Asse- verations to this Purpose, he suffered Death at Tyhirn, the fourteenth of March, 1725, being then about thirty-nine Years old, in Company with Jones, Barton, Gates, and Swift, of whose Behaviour under Sentence we shall have Occasion to speak by- and-bye. The Life of John Barton, a Robber, Highwayman, and Housebreaker. IT is often thought that Education is a trouble to Persons in their Junior Years, who heartily repent of their Neglect of it in the more advanced Seasons of their Lives. John Barton, the Subject of our Discourse, was born in Lo7idon of Parents capable enough of afford- ing him tolerable Education, which they were willing 448 The Life of to bestow upon him if he had been just enough to have applied himself while at School ; but he instead of that raked about with Boys of his own Age, without the least Consideration of the Expense his Parents were at, idled away his Time, and forgot what little he learned almost as soon as he had acquired it. It is a long Time before Parents per- ceive that in their Children which is evident to every one else. However, Bartons Father soon saw no Good was to be done with him at School, upon which he took him away, and placed him Apprentice with a Btttcher. There he continued for some Time, behaving to the liking of his Master, yet even then so much out of Humour with work that he associated himself with some idle young Fellows, who afterwards drew him in to those illegal Acts which proved fatal to his Reputation and his Life. However, he did make a Shift to pass through the Time of his Ap- prenticeship with a tolerable Character, and was afterwards, through the Kindness of his Friends, set up as a Butcher, in which Business he succeeded so well as to acquire Money enough thereby to have kept his Family, if he could have been contented with the Fruits of his honest Labour. But his old Companions, who by this Time were become per- fectly versed in those felonious Arts by which Money is seemingly so easy to be attained, were continually soliciting him to take their Method of Life, assuring him that there was not half so much Danger as was generally apprehended, and that if he had but Re- solution enough to behave gallantly, he need not fear any Adventure whatsoever. Barton was a Fellow rather of too much than too little Courage ; he wanted no encouragements of this sort to ^g^ him to John Barton, a Highwayman. 449 such Proceedings, the Hopes of living idle, and in the Enjoyment of such lewd Pleasures as he had addicted himself to were sufficient. He therefore soon yielded to their Suggestions, and went into such Measures as they had before followed, especially Housebreaking, which was the particular Branch of Villany to which he had addicted himself ; at this he became a very dexterous Fellow, and thereby much in Favour with his wicked Associates, amongst whom to be impious argues a great Spirit, and to be inge- nious in Mischief is the highest Character to which Persons in their miserable State can ever attain. Amongst the Rest of Bartons Acquaintance, there was one Yorkshire Bob, who was reckoned the most adroit Housebreaker in Town. This Fellow one Day invited Bar ion to his House, which at that time was not far from Red Lion Fields, and proposed to him two or three Schemes by which some Houses in the Neighbourhood might be broken open. Barion thought all the Attempts too hazardous to be made, but Bob, to convince him of the Possibility with which such Things might be done, undertook to rob a Widow Lady's House of some Plate, which stood in the Butler s Room at Noonday, and without Assist- ance. Accordingly thither he went, dressed in the Habit of a Footman belonging to a Family which were well acquainted there. The Servants conversed with him freely, as my Lady such-a-one's new Man, while he entertained them with Abundance of merry Stories until Dinner was upon the Table, when taking Advantage of that Clatter in which 'they were, he slily lighted a Fire-ball at the Fireside, clapped into a Closet on the Side of the Stairs in which the foul Clothes were kept, and then perceiving the Smoke 2 G 450 The Life of cried out with the utmost Vehemence, Fire ! Fire ! This naturally drew everybody down Stairs, and created such a Confusion that he found little or no Difficulty in laying hold of the silver Plate which he aimed at. He carried it away publicly, while the Smoke confounded all the Spectators, and until the next Morning nobody had the least Suspicion of him ; but upon sending to the Lady for the Plate which her new Servant had carried away the Night before, and she denying that she had any Servant in the House that had not lived with her a Twelve- month, they then discovered the Cheat, though at a Time too late to mend it. Barton, however, did not like his Master's Method entirely, choosing rather to strike out a new One of his own, which he fancied might as little mischief him as that audacious Impudence of the other did in his several Adventures ; for which Reason he was very cautious of associating with this Fellow, who was very dexterous in his Art, but was more ready in undertaking dangerous Exploits than any of the Crew at that Time about Town, fokn's Way was by a certain Knack of shifting the Shutters, whereby he opened a speedy Entrance for himself ; and as he knew in how great Danger his Life was from each of these Attempts, so he never made them but upon Shops or Houses where so large a Booty might be expected as would prevent his being under Necessity of Thieving again in a Week or two's Time. Yet when he had in this Manner got Money, he was so ready to throw it away on Women and at Play, that in a short Space his Pocket was at as low an Ebb as ever. When his Cash was quite gone, he associated himself sometimes with a Crew of Footpads, and in John Barton, a Highwayman. 451 that Method of Plunder got sufficient to subsist him until something offered in his own way, to which he w^ould willingly have kept. At last hearing of* a Goldsmith' s not far from where he lodged, who had a very considerable Stock of fine Snuff- Boxes, Gold Chains, Rings, &c., he fancied he had now an Op- portunity of getting Provision for his Extravagancies for at least a Twelvemonth ; the Thoughts of which encouraged him so far that he immediately went about it, and succeeded to his Wish, obtaining two Gold Chains, five Gold Necklaces, seventy- two Silver Spoons, and an immense Cargo of little Things of Value, yet this did not satisfy him. He had ventured a few Days afterwards, having a proper Opportunity, on the House and Shop of one Mrs. Higgs, from whence he took a hundred Pair of Stockings, and other Things to a large Value ; but as is common with such Persons his Imprudence betrayed him in the disposing of them, and by the Diligence of a Constable employed for that Purpose he was caught, and committed to Newgate. At the next Sessions he was for these Facts convicted, and as he had no Friends so it was not in any Degree probable that he should escape Execution, and therefore it is highly possible he might be the Projector of that Resistance, which he and the rest under Sentence with him made in the condemned Hole, and of which we shall give an exact Account under the next Life. The peculiar Humour of Barton was to appear equally gay and cheerful, though in these sad Circum- stances, as he had ever done in the most dissolute Part of his foregoing Life. In Consequence of which foolish Notion he smiled on a Person's telling him his Name was included in the Dead Warrant, and at 452 The Life of Chapel behaved in a Manner very unbecoming one who was soon to answer at the Bar of the Almighty for a Life led in open Defiance both of the Laws of God and Man. Yet that Surprise, which People naturally express at Behaviour of such a Kind on such an Occasion, seemed in the Eyes of this poor Wretch so high a Testimony in Favour of his Gal- lantry, that he could not be prevailed on, either by the Advices of the Ministers, or the Entreaties of his Relations, to abate anything of that Levity which he put on when he attended Divine Service. He saw it disturbed some of his Fellow-Sufferers, who were at first inclined to apply themselves strictly to their Duties, but at last, so fatal is evil Communica- tion even in the latest Moments of our Life, his ludicrous Carriage corrupted the Rest, and instead of reproving him as they had formerly done, they now seemed careful only of imitating his Example, and in this Disposition he continued even to the last Minute of his Life, which ended at Tyburn, on the fourteenth of March, 1725, he being then hardly twenty-three Years of Age. William Swift, a Thief, &c. 453 2"/^^ Life of William Swift, a Thief, &c. IITH regard to the Multitude of Reasons which oi^ght to incline Men to an honest Life, there is one very strong Motive which hitherto has not, I think, been touched upon at all, and that is the Danger a Man runs from being known to be of ill Life and Fame, of having himself accused from his Character only of Crimes, which he, though guiltless of, in such a Case might find it difficult to get his Innocence either proved or credited, if any unlucky Circumstance should give the least Weight to the Accusation. The Criminal whose Life exercises our present Care was a Fellow of this Cast. He was born but of mean Parents, had little or no Education, and when he grew strong enough to Labour would apply himself to no Way of getting his Bread but by driving a Wheelbarrow with Fruit about the Streets. This led him to the Knowledge of Abundance of wicked disorderly People, whose Manners agreeing best with his own, he spent most of his Time in sotting with them at their Haunts, when by bawling about the Streets he had got just as much as would suffice to sot with. There is no doubt but that he now and then shared with them, at least in what amongst such Folks passes for trivial Offences, but that he engaged in the grand Exploits of the Road did not appear in any other Case than that for which he died, viz., taking four Table-Cloths, eight Napkins, two Shifts, and other Things, from Mary Cassel. The Woman swore positively to him 454 The Life of upon his Trial, and his Course of Life being such as I have represented it, nobody appeared to speak to his Reputation, so as to bring the Thing into the least Suspense with the Jury, whereupon he was con- victed, and received Sentence of Death. The Concern Swift was under when he found not the least Hopes of Life remaining, he having no Friends who were capable, had they been willing, to have solicited a Pardon, or a Reprieve, shocked him so much that he scarce appeared to have his Senses. However, he persisted obstinately in denying that he had the least Hand in the Robbery which was sworn against him ; and as he had made no Scruple of acknowledging a Multitude of other Crimes, his De- nial of this gained some Belief, more especially when Barton confessed that he with two or three others were the Persons who committed the Robbery on the Woman who swore against this Criminal. It must be acknowledged that there was no Appearance of any sinister Motive, at least in Barton, to take upon himself a Crime of which otherwise he would never have been accused ; and the Behaviour of Swift was at first of such a Nature that it is not easy to conceive why, when all Hopes of Safety were lost, and he was full of Acknowledgment as to the Justice of his Sentence for the many other evil Deeds he had done, he should yet obdurately persist in denying this, if there had been no Truth at all in his Allegations. As this Fellow had neither natural Courage, nor had acquired any religious Principles from his Education, there is no Wonder to be made he behaved himself so poorly in the last Moments of his Life, in which Terror, Confusion, and Self-Con- demnation wrought so strongly as to make the Igno- William Swift, a Thief, &c. 455 miny of the Halter the least dreadful Part of his Execution. The Day on which the three last-mentioned Per- sons, together with Yaies or Gates, alias Vtdcan, a Deer-stealer, and Benjamin Jones, a Housebreaker, were to have been Executed, these miserable Persons framed to themselves the most absurd Project of preserving their Lives that could possibly have entered into the Heads of Men ; for, getting by some Means or other an Iron Crow into the Hole, they therewith dug out a prodigious Quantity of Rubbish and some Stones, which it is hardly credible could have been removed with so small Assistance as they had. With these they blocked up the Door of the . Condemned Hole so effectually that there was no pos- sibility of getting it open by any Force whatsoever on the outside. The Keepers endeavoured to make them sensible of the Folly of their Undertaking, in Hopes they would thereby be induced to prevent any firing upon them, which was all that those who had the Custody of them were now capable of doing, to bring them to Submission. The Ordinary also joined in dissuading them from thus mispending the last Moments of their Lives, which were through the Mercy of the Law extended to them for a better Purpose, but they were inexorable, and as they knew their Surrender would bring them immediately to a shameful Death, so they declared positively they were determined to kill or be killed in the Position in which they then were. Sir yeremiah Murden, one of the Sheriffs for the Time, being, was so good as to go down upon this Occasion to Newgate. The Keepers having opened a sort of Trap-Door in the Room over the Hole, from thence discharged several 456 The Life of Pistols loaded with small Shot to no Purpose. The Criminals, retiring to the farther End of the Room, continued there safe and out of reach, though Barton and Yates received each of them a slight Wound in crowding backwards. Sir Jeremy went himself to this Place, and talked to them for a considerable Space, and one of the Fellows insisting to see his Gold Chain, that they might be sure they were treat- ing with the Sheriffs themselves, his Condescension was so great as to put down Part of it through the Hole, upon which they consulted together, and at last agreed to surrender. Whereupon they began im- mediately to remove the Stones, and as soon as the Door was at Liberty one of the Keepers entered. Just as he was within it. Barton snapped a Steel Tobacco-Box in his Face, the Noise of which resemb- ling a Pistol made him start back, upon which Barton said, D — n you, yoti was afraid. Sir Jeremy, when they were brought out, ordered the Ordinary to be sent for, and Prayers to be said in the Chapel, where he attended himself. Whether the Hurry of this Affair, or that Stench which is natural to so filthy a Place as the Condemned Hole, affected the Sheriff's Constitution, it is hard to say ; but upon his Return home he was seized with a violent Fever, which in a very short Space took away his Life. But to return to Swift. When they came to Tyhirn, and the Minister had performed his last Office towards them, this Criminal made a Shift in a faint Tone to cry out, Good People, I die as innocent of the Crime for which I suffer as the Child tmborn, which Barton with a loud Voice confirmed, saying, / am, the Man who robbed the Person for which this Man dies, he was not William Swift, a Thief, &c. 457 concerned with me, but one Capell and another were Companions with -me therein. Swift at the Time of his Execution was about twenty-seven Years of Age, or a Httle over. The Lives of Edward Burnworth, alias Frazier, William Blewit, Thomas Berry, Emanuel Dickenson, William Marjoram, John Higgs, &c., Robbers, Footpads, Housebreakers, and Ahir- derers. |S Society intends the Preservation of every Man's Person and Property from the In- juries which might be offered unto him from others, so those who in Contempt of its Laws go on to injure the one, and either by Force or Fraud to take away the other, are, in the greatest Proprieties of Speech, Enemies to Mankind, and as such are reasonably rooted out and destroyed by every Government under Heaven. In some Parts of Europe certain Outlaws, Banditti, or whatever other Appellation you please to bestow on them, have en- deavoured to preserve themselves by Force from the Punishments which should have been executed upon them in Jiistice, and finding Mankind in general, from a Spirit of Self-Preservation were become their Enemies, they exerted themselves to the utmost, in order to render their Bodies so formidable as still to carry on their Ravages with Impunity, and in open Defiance of the Laws made against them. But an 458 The Life of Attempt of this sort was scarce ever heard of in Britain, even in the most early Times, when as in all other Governments, the Hands of the Law wanted Strength most, so that from the Days of Robin Hood and Little John, to those of the Criminals of whom we are now writing, there was never any Scheme formed for an open Resistance of Justice, and carry- ing on a direct War against the Lives and Properties of Mankind. Edward Burnworth, alias Frazier, was the extra- ordinary Person who framed this Project for bringing Rapine into Method, and bounding even the Practice of Licentiousness within some kind of Order. It may seem reasonable therefore to begin with his Life, preferable to the Rest, and in so doing, we must in- form our Readers, that his Father was by Trade a Painter, though so low in his Circumstances as to be able to afford his Son but a very mean Education. However, he gave him as much as would have been sufficient for him in that Trade, to which he bound him Apprentice, viz., to a Buckle-Maker, in Grub Street, where for some Time Edward lived honestly and much in the Favour of his Master; but his Father dying, and his unhappy Mother being reduced thereby into very narrow Circumstances, Restraint grew uneasy to him, and the Weight of a Parent's Authority being now lost with him, he began to associate himself with those loose incorrigible Va- grants, who frequent the Ring at Moorfields, and from Idleness and Debauchery go on in a very swift Pro- gression to Robbery and picking of Pockets. Edward was a young Fellow, active in his Person, and enter- prising in his Genius. He soon distinguished him- self in Cudgel-playing, and such other Moorfields Edward Burnworth, a Robber. 459 Exercises as qualify a Man first for the Road, and then for the Gallows. The Mob who frequented this Place, where one Frazier kept the Ring, were so highly pleased with Burnworth' s Performances, that they thought nothing could express their Applause so much as conferring on him the Title of Young Frazier. This agreeing with the Ferocity of his Disposition, made him so vain thereof, that quitting his own Name he chose to go by this, and accordingly was called so by all his Companions. Bitrnwortk's grand Associates were these, William Blewit, Emanuel Dickenson, Thomas Berry, John Legee, William Marjoram, John Higgs, John Wil- son, yohn Mason, Thomas Mekins, William, Gilling- ham, yohn Barton, William, Swift, and some others not material here to mention. At first he and his Associates contented themselves with picking Pockets, and such other Exercises in the lowest Class of Thieving, in which, however, they went on very assi- duously for a considerable Space, and did more Mis- chief that Way than any Gang which had been before them for twenty Years. They rose aftewards to Exploits of a more hazardous Nature, viz., snatching Women's Pockets, Swords, Hats, &c. The usual Places for their carrying on such infamous Practices, being about the Royal Exchange, Cheapside, St. Patd's Churchyard, Fleet Street, the Strand, and Charing Cross. But here they stuck a good while, nor is it probable they would ever have risen higher if Burn- worth their Captain had not been detected in an Affair of this Kind, and committed thereupon to Bridewell, from whence, on some Apprehension of the Keepers, he was removed to New Prison, where he had not continued long before he projected an 460 The Life of - Escape, which he afterwards put in Execution. During this Imprisonment, instead of reflecting on the Sorrows which his evil Course of Life had brought upon him, he meditated only how to engage his Companions in Attempts of a higher Nature than they had hitherto been concerned in, and con- sidering how large a Circle he had of wicked Asso- ciates, he bgan to entertain Notions of putting them in such a Posture as might prevent their falling easily into the Hands of Justice, which many of them within a Month or two last past had done, though as they were sent thither on trivial Offences they quickly got discharged again. Full of such Projects, and having once more re- gained his Freedom, he took much Pains to find out Barton, Marjoram, Berry, Blewit, and Dickenson, in whose Company he remained continually, never ven- turing abroad in the Daytime unless with his Asso- ciates in the Fields, where they walked with strange Boldness, considering Warrants were out against the greatest Part of the Gang. In the Night-time ^z^r;«- worth strolled about to such little Bawdy-houses as he had formerly frequented, and where he yet fancied he might be safe. One Evening haying wandered from the Rest, he was so bold as to go into a House in the Old Bailey, where he heard the Servants and Successors of the famous Jonathan Wild were in close Pursuit of him, and that one of them was in the inner Room by himself. Burnworth loaded his Pistol under the Table, and having primed it, goes with it ready cocked into the Room where Jonathans Foreman was with a Quartern of Brandy and a Glass before him. Hark ye (says Edward) you Fellow, who have served your Time to a Thief-taker, Edward Burnworth, a Robber. 461 what Business might you have with ine or my Com- pany ; do you think to gain a htmdred or two by swearing ozir Lives away ? If you do you are much mistaken, but that I may be some Jicdge of your Talent that Way, I must hear yoti airse a little on a very particular Occasion; upon which filHng a large Glass of Brandy, and putting a little Gunpowder into it, he clapped it into the Fellow's Hands, and then presenting his Pistol to his Breast, obliged him to wish most horrid Mischiefs upon himself if ever he attempted to follow him or his Companions any more. No sooner had he done this, but Frazier knocking him down, quitted the Room, and went to acquaint his Companions with his notable Adventure, which as it undoubtedly frightened the new Thief-taker, so it highly exhalted his Reputation for undaunted Bravery amongst the rest of the Gang. This was not only agreeable to Burnsworth' s Vanity, but useful also to his Design, which was to advance himself to a Sort of absolute Authority amongst them, from whence he might be capable of making them sub- servient to him in such Enterprises as he designed. His Associates were not cunning enough to pene- trate his Views, but without knowing it suffered them to take Effect, so that instead of robbing as they used to do as Accident directed them, or they received Intelligence of any Booty, they now submitted them- selves to his Guidance, and did nothing but as he directed or commanded them. The Morning before the Murder of Thomas Ball, Burnworth and Barton, whom we have before-mentioned, pitched upon the House of an old fustice of the Peace in Clerkenwell, to whom they had a particular Pique for having for- merly committed Burnworth, and proposed it to their 462 The Life of Companions to break it open that Night, or rather the next Morning. It was about One of the Clock when they put their Design into Execution, suc- cessfully carrying off some Things of real Value and a considerable Parcel of what they took to be Silver Plate. With this they went into the Fields above Islington, and from thence to Copenhagen Hoiise, where they spent the greatest Part of the Day. On their parting the Booty, Burnworth perceived what they had taken for Silver was nothing more than a gilt Metal, at which he in a Rage would have, thrown it away. Barton opposed it, and said, they should be able to sell it for something, to which Burnworth replied, that it was good for nothing but to discover them, ajtd therefore it should not be preserved at any Rate. Upon this they differed, and while they were debating came Blewit, Berry, Dickenson, Higgs, Wil- son, Legee, and Marjoram,, who joined the Company. Burnworth and Barton agreed to toss up at whose Disposal the Silver Ware should be ; they did so, and it fell to Burnworth to dispose of it as he thought fit, upon which he carried it immediately to the New River Side, and threw it in there, adding, he was sorry he had not the old Justice himself there to share the same Fate, being really as much out of Humour at the Thing, as if the Justice had imposed upon them in a fair Sale of the Commodity, so easy a Thing is it for Men to impose upon themselves. As it happened they were all at present pretty full of Money, and so under no Necessity of going upon any Enterprise directly, wherefore they loitered up and down the Fields until towards Evening, when they thought they might venture into Town, and pass the Time in their usual Pleasures of Drinking, Edward Burnworth, a Robber. 463 Gaming, and Whoring. While they were thus (as the French say) murdering of Time, a Comrade of theirs came up puffing and blowing as if ready to break his Heart. As soon as he reached ih^va., Lads (says he), beware of one thing, the Constables have been all aboitt Chick Lane in search of Folk of our Profession, and if ye venture to the House- where we zvere to have met to-night, it is Ten to One bu.t we are all taken. This Intelligence occasioned a deep Con- sultation amongst them, what Method they had best take in order to avoid the Danger which threatened them so nearly. Burnworth took this Occasion to exhort them to keep together, telling them, as they were armed with three or four Pistols a Piece, and short Daggers under their Clothes, a small Force would not venture to attack them. This was ap- proved by all the Rest, and when they had passed the Afternoon in this Manner, and had made a solemn Oath to stand by one another in Case of Danger, they resolved as Night grew on to draw towards Town. Barton at the Beginning of these Consulta- tions quitted them and returned home. As they came through Tiirmill Street, they accidentally met the Keeper of New Prison, from whom Burnworth had escaped about six Weeks before. He desired Edward to step across the Way to him, adding, that he saw h^ had no Arms, and that he did not intend to do him a,ny Prejudice. Burnworth replied that he was no Way in Fear of him, nor apprehensive of any Injury he was able to do him, and so concealing a Pistol in his Hand he stepped over to him, his Com- panions waiting for him in the Street. But the Neighbours having some Suspicion of them, and of the Methods they followed to get Money began to 464 The Life of gather about them ; upon which they called to their Companion to come away, which he, after making a low Bow to the Captain of New Prison, did, and they finding the People increase, thought it their most adviseable Method to retire back in a Body into the Fields ; this they did, keeping very close together, and in order to deter the People from making any Attempt, turned several. times and' pre- sented their Pistols in their Faces, swearing they would Murder the first Man who came near enough for them to touch him, and the People being terrified to see such a Gang of obdurate Villains dispersed as they drew near the Fields, and left them at Liberty to go whither they would. As soon as they had dispersed their Pursuers they entered into a fresh Consultation in what Manner they should dispose of themselves. Burnworth heard what every one proposed, and said at last, that he thought the best thing they could do was to enter with as much Privacy as they could the other Quarter of the Town, and go directly to the Water-side. They approved his Proposal, and accordingly getting down to Blackfriars, crossed directly into Southwark. They went afterwards to the Music-house, but did not stay there, retiring at last into St. Georges Fields, where their last Counsel was held to settle the Ope- rations of the Night. There Burnworth exerted himself in his proper Colours, informing them that there was no less Danger of their being apprehended there than about Chick Lane ; for that one Thomas Ball, who kept a Gin Shop in the Mint, and who was very well acquainted with most of their Persons, had taken it Into his Head to venture upon Jonathan Wild's Employment, and was for that Purpose inde- Edward Burn worth, a Jobber: 465 fatigable in searching out all their Haunts, that he might get a good Penny to himself by apprehending them. He added, that but a few Nights ago, he him- self narrowly missed being caught by him, being obliged to clap a Pistol to his Face, and threatened to shoot him dead if he offered to lay his Hand on him. Therefore, continued Burnworth, the surest Way for us to procure Safety is to go to this Rogue's House, and shoot him dead upon the Spot. His Death will not only secure us from all Fears of his Treachery, but it will likewise so terrify others that nobody will take up the Trade of Thief-Catching in haste ; and if it were not for such People who are acquainted with us and our Houses of resort, there would hardly one of our Profession in a Hundred see the inside of Newgate. Burnworth had scarce made an End of his bloody Proposal before they all testified their Assent to it with great Alacrity, Higgs only excepted, who seem- ing to disapprove thereof, it put the Rest into such a • Passion that they upbraided him in the most oppro- bious Terms, with being a Coward and a Scoundrel, unworthy of being any longer the Companion of such brave Fellows as ' themselves. When Frazier had sworn them all to stick fast by one another, he put himself at their Head, and away they went directly to put their designed Assassination into Execution. Higgs retreated under the Favour of the Night, , being apprehensive of himself when their Hands were in, since he was not quite so wicked as the Rest, he might share the Fate of Ball upon the first Dislike to him that took them. Burnworth and his Party when they came to Balls House and inquired of his Wife for him, they were informed that he was 2 H 466 The Life of gone to the next Door, a Public-house, and that she would step and call him, and went accordingly. Burn- worth immediately followed her, and meeting Ball at the Door took him fast by the Collar, and dragged him into his own House, and began to expostulate with him as to the Reason why he had attempted to take him, and how ungenerous it was for him to ^eek to betray his old Friends and Acquaintance. Ball apprehending their mischievous Intentions, addressed himself to Blewit, and begged of him to be an Inter- cessor for him, and that they would not Murder him ; but Burnworth with an Oath replied, he would put it out of the Power of Ball, ever to do him any farther Injury, that he sho^dd never get a Penny by betraying him, and thereupon immediately shot him. Having thus done they all went out of Doors again, and that the Neighbourhood might suppose the Firing the Pistol to have been done without any ill Intention, and only to discharge the same, Blewit fired another in the Street over the Tops of the Houses, saying aloud, they were got safe into Town, and there was no Danger of meeting any Rogues there. Ball attempted to get as far as the Door, but in vain, for he dropped immediately, and died in a few Minutes afterwards. Having thus executed their barbarous Design, they went down from Ball's House directly towards the Faulcon, intending to cross the Water back again. By the Way they accidentally met with Higgs, who was making to the Waterside likewise : him they fell upon and rated for a pusillanimous cowardly Dog (as Burnworth called him) that would desert them in an Affair of such Consequence, and then questioned whether Higgs himself would not betray them. Bum- worth proposed it to the Company to shoot their old Edward Burnworth, a Robber. 467 Comrade Higgs, because he had deserted them in their late Expedition ; which it is beHeved in the Humour Burnworth was then in he would have done had not Marjoram interposed, and pleaded for the sparing his Life. From the Faulcon Stairs they crossed the Water to Pig Stairs ; and there consult- ing how to spend the Evening, they resolved to go to the Boar's Head Tavern in Smithfield, as not being there known, and being at a Distance from the Water- side, in case any Pursuit should be made after them on account of the Murder by them committed. At this Place they continued until near Ten of the Clock, when they separated themselves into Parties for that Night, viz., one Party towards the Royal Exchange, the second to St. Paul's Chtirchyard, and the third for Temple Bar, in pursuit of their old Trade of Diving. This Murder made them more cautious of appearing in Public ; and Blewit, Berry, and Dickenson, soon after set out for Harwich, and went over in a Packet-boat from thence for Halveot- Sluys. Higgs also being daily in fear of a Discovery, shipped himself on Board the Monmouth Man-of- war at Spithead, where he thought himself safe, and began to be a little at Ease. But Justice quickly overtook him, when he thought himself safest from its Blow ; for his Brother who lived in Town having wrote a Letter to him, and given it to a Ship's Mate of his to carry to him at Spithead, this Man acciden- tally fell into Company with one Arthur, a Watch- man, belonging to St. Sepulchres Parish, and pulling the Letter by Chance out of his Pocket, the Watch- m,an saw the Direction, and recollected that Higgs was a Companion of Frazier's. Upon this he sends 468 The Life of Word to Mr. Delafay, Under-Secretary of State, and being examined as to the Circumstances of the Thing, proper persons were immediately dispatched to Spitkead, who seized and brought him up in Cus- tody. Wilson, another of the Confederates, withdrew about the same Time, and had so much Cunning as to preserve himself from being heard of for a con- siderable Time. Btcrnworth in the meanwhile, with some Com- panions of his, continued to carry on their rapacious Plunderings in almost all Parts of the Town, and as they kept pretty well united, and were resolute Fel- lows, they did a vast deal of Mischief, and yet were too strong to be apprehended. Amongst the rest of their Pranks they were so audacious as to stop the Chair of the Right Honourable the Earl of Har- borough in Piccadilly, but the Chairmen having Courage enough to draw their Poles and knock one of the Robbers down, the Earl at the same Time coming out of the Chair, and putting himself upon his Defence, they after a smart Dispute, in which Burmuorth shot one of the Chairmen in the Shoulder, and thereby prevented any Pursuit, they raised their wounded Companion and withdrew in great Confusion. About this Time their Robberies and Villanies having' made so much Noise as to deserve the Notice of the Government, a Proclamation was published for the apprehending Burmvorth, Blewit, &c., it being justly supposed that none but those who were guilty of these Outrages, could be the Persons concerned in the cruel Murder of Ball. A Gentleman, who by Accident had bought one of these Papers, came into an Alehouse at W hitecross Street, and read it pub- licly. The Discourse of the Company turning there- Edward Burnworth, a Robber. 469 upon, and the Impossibility of the Persons concerned making their Escape, and the Likehhood there was that they would immediately impeach one another, Marjoram, one of the Gang, was there, though known to nobody in the Room. He, weighing the Thing with himself, retired immediately from the House into the Fields, where loitering about till Evening came on, he then stole with the utmost caution into Smithfield, and going to a Constable there surrendered himself as an Accomplice in the Murder of Thomas Ball, desiring to be carried before the Lord Mayor, that he might regularly put himself in a Way of ob- taining a Pardon, and the Reward promised by the Proclamation. That Night he was confined in the Wood Street Compter, his Lordship not being at Leisure to examine him. The next Day as he was going to his Examination, the Noise of his Surrender being already spread all over the Town, many of "his Companions changed their Lodgings and provided for their Safety. But Barton thought of another Method of securing himself from Majoranis Im- peachment, and therefore planting himself in the Way, as Majoram. was being carried to GoldsmitK s Hall, he popped out upon him at once, though the Constable had him by the Arm, and presenting a Pistol to him, said, D — n ye, L'll kill you ; Majoram at the Sound of his Voice ducked his Head, and he immediately firing, the Ball grazed only on his Back, without doing him any Hurt. The Surprise with which they were all struck upon this Occasion who were assisting the Constable in the Execution, of his Office, gave an Opportunity to Barton to retire, after his committing such an Insult on public Justice as perhaps was never heard of. However, Marjoram 4/0 The Life of proceeded to his Examination, and made a very full Discovery of all the Transactions in which he had been concerned, Legee being taken that Night by his Directions in Whitecross Street, and after Examina- tion committed to Newgate. Btcrnworth was now perfectly deprived of his old Associates. Yet he went on at his old Rate, even by himself ; for a few Nights after he broke open the Shop and House of Mr. Beezely, a great Distiller near Clare Market, and took away from thence Notes to a very great Value, with a Quantity of Plate, which mistaking for white Metal he threw away. One Benjav^in Jones picked it up, and was thereupon hanged, being one of the Number under Sentence, when the condemned Hold was shut up, and the Criminals refused to submit to the Keepers. Burnworth was particularly described in the Proclamation, and three hundred Pounds offered to any one who would apprehend him. Yet so audacious was he to come directly to a House in Holborn, where he was known, and laying a Pistol down loaded on the Table, called for a Pint of Beer, which he drank and paid for, defying anybody to touch him, though they knew him to be the Person mentioned in the Proclamation. It would be needless to particularise any other Bravados of his, which were so numerous, that it gave no little Uneasiness to the Magistrates, who perceived the evil Conse- quences that would flow from such things if they should become frequent. They therefore doubled their Diligence in endeavouring to apprehend him, yet all their Attempts were to little Purpose, and it is possible he might have gone on much longer if he had not been betrayed, the natural Consequence of one Rogue's trusting another. Edward Burnworth, a Robber. 471 It happened at this Time that one Christopher Leonard was in Prison for some such Feats as Burn- worth had been Guilty of, who Lodged at the same time with the Wife and Sister of this Fellow. Kit Leonard knowing in what State he himself was, and supposing nothing could effectually recommend to him the . Mercy and Favour of the Government, as the procuring Frazier to be apprehended, who had so long defied all the Measures they had taken for that Purpose, he accordingly made the Proposal by his Wife to Persons in Authority, and the Project being approved, they appointed a sufficient Force to Assist in seizing him. They were placed at an ad- joining Ale-hotise, where Kate, the Wife of Kitt Leonard, was to give them the Signal. About six of the Clock in the Evening on Shrove Tuesday, Kate Leonard and her Sister, and Biirnworth being all together (it not being late enough for him to go out upon his nightly Enterprises), Kate Leonard •pro^postd. to fry some Pancakes for Supper, which the other two approved of Accordingly her Sister set about them. Burnworth had put off his Surtout Coat, in the Pocket and Lining whereof he had several Pis- tols. There was a little back Door to the House, which Burnworth usually kept upon the Latch, only in Order to make his Escape, if he should be sur- prised or discovered to be in that House. This Door Kate, unperceived by Burnworth fastened, and whilst her Sister was frying the Pancakes, A'la;^^ went to the Ale- house for a Pot of Drink, when having given the Men who were there waiting the Signal, she returned, and entering the House, pretended to lock the Door after her, but designedly missed the Staple. The Door being thus upon the Jar only, as 472 The Life of she gave the Drink to Burnworth, the six Persons rushed into the Room. Burnworth hearing the Noise, and fearing the Surprise, jumped up, thinking to have made his Escape at the Back-door ; but not knowing it to be bolted, they were upon him before he could get it open, and holding his Hands behind him one of them tied them, whilst another, to in- timidate him, fired a Pistol over his Head. Having thus secured him, they immediately carried him before a Justice of the Peace, who after a long Examination committed him to Newgate. Notwithstanding his Confinement in that Place he was still Director of such of his Companions as remained at Liberty, and communicating to them the Suspicions he had of Kate Leonard's betraying him, and the Danger there was of her detecting some of the Rest, they were easily induced to treat her as they had done Ball ; and one of them fired a Pistol at her just as she was entering her own House, but that missing, they made two or three other Attempts of the same Nature, until the Justices of the Peace placed a Guard there- abouts, in order to secure her from being killed, and if possible to seize those who should Attempt it, after which they heard no more of these Sorts of Attacks. In Newgate they confined Bicrnworth to the condemned Hole, and took what other necessary Precautions they thought proper, in order to secure so dangerous a Person, and who they were well enough aware meditated nothing but how to escape. He was in this Condition when the Malefactors before-mentioned, viz., Barton, Swift, &c., were under Sentence, and it was shrewdly suspected that he put them upon that Attempt of breaking out, of which we have given an Account before. There Edward Burnworth, a Robber. 473 were two Things which more immediately contri- buted to the defeating their Design ; the one was, that though Five of them were to die the next Day, yet four of them were so drunk that they were not able to work, and they were so Negligent in pro- viding Candles, that in two Hours after they were locked up they were forced to lie by for want of Light. As we have already related the Particulars of this Story, we shall not take up our Reader's Time in mentioning them again, but go on with the Story of Burnworth, and inform them that the Keepers upon Suspicion of his being the Projector of that Enterprise removed him into the Bilboa Room, and there loaded him with Irons, leaving him by himself to lament the Miseries of his mispent Life in the Solitude of his wretched Confinement. Yet nothing could break the wicked Stubborness of his Temper, which as it had led him to those Prac- tices, justly punished with so strait a Confinement, so now it urged him continually to force his Way through all Opposition, and thereby regain his Liberty, in order to practice more Villanies of the same Sort with those in which he had hitherto spent his Time. It is impossible to say how, but by some Method or other he had procured Saws, Files, and other Instru- ments for this Purpose. With these he first released himself from his Irons, then broke through the Wall of the Room in which he was lodged, and thereby got into the Women's Apartment, the Window of which was fortified with three Iron Bars. Upon these he went immediately to work, and forced one of them in a little Time. While he was filing the next, one of the Women to ingratiate herself with the Keepers, gave Notice, whereiipon they came immediately and 474 The Life of dragged him back to the condemned Hole, and there stapled him down to the Ground. The Course of our Memoirs leads us now to say something of the Rest of his Companions, who in a very short Space came most of them to be collected to share that Punishment which the Law had so justly appointed for their Crimes. We will begin then with William Blewit, who next to Frasier, was the chief Person in the Gang. He was one of St. Giles s Breed, his Father a Porter, and his Mother at the Time of his Execution selling Greens in the same Parish. They were both of them unable to procure wherewith either to give their Son Educa- tion, or otherwise provide for him, which occasioned his being put out by the Parish to a Perfumer of Gloves ; but his Temper from his Childhood inclining him to wicked Practices, he soon got himself into a Gang of young Pickpockets, with whom he practised several Years with Impunity, but being at last appre- hended in the very Fact he was committed to New- gate, and on plain Proof convicted the next Sessions, and ordered for Transportation. He was shipped on board the Vessel with other Wretches in the same Condition, and was quickly let into the Secret of their having provided for an Escape, by procuring Saws, Files, and other Implements, put up in little Barrels, which they had pretended contained Ginger- Bread, and such other little Presents which were given them by their Relations. Blewit immediately foresaw Abundance of Difficulties in their Design, and therefore resolved to make a sure Use of it for his own Advantage, which he did, by communicating all he knew to the Captain, who thereupon imme- diately seized their Tools, and thereby prevented the Edward Burnworth, a Robber. 475 Loss of his Ship, which otherwise in all Probability would have been effected by the Conspirators. In Return for this Service Blewit obtained his Freedom, which did not serve him for any better Purpose than to return to London as soon as he was able. Whether he went again upon his old Practices before he was apprehended we cannot determine, but before he had continued two months in Town somebody seized him, and committed him to Newgate. At the next Ses- sions he was tried for returning from Transportation and convicted, but pleading when he received Sen- tence of Death, the Service he had done in prevent- ing the Attempt of the other Malefactors, Execu- tion was respited until the Return of the Captain, and on his Report the Sentence was changed into a new Transportation, and leave given him also to go to what Foreign Port he would. But he no sooner regained his Liberty than he put it to the same Use as before, and took up the Trade of snatching Hats, Wigs, &c., until he got into Acquaintance with Btirnwortk and his Gang, who taught him other Methods of robbing than he had hitherto practised. Like most of the unhappy People of this Sort, he had to his other Crimes added the Marriage of several Wives, of which the first was reputed a very honest and modest Woman, and it seems had so great a Love for him, notwithstanding the Wickedness of his Behaviour, that upon her visiting him at Newgate, the Day before they set out for Kingston, she was oppressed with so violent a Grief as to fall down dead in the Lodge. Another of his Wives married Emanuel Dickenson, and survived them both. His meeting Burnworth the Afternoon before Ball's Murder was Accidental, but the Savageness 47^ The Life of of his Temper led him to a quick CompHance with that wicked Proposition. After the Commission of that Fact, he with his Companions before mentioned, went over in the Packet-boat to Holland. Guih is a Companion which never suffers Rest to enter any Bosom where it Inhabits. They were so uneasy after their Arrival there, lest an Application should be made from \h^ Government at Home, that they were constantly perusing the English Newspapers as they came over to the Coffee-houses in Rotterdam, that they might gain Intelligence of what Advertise- ments, Rewards, or other Methods had been taken to apprehend the Persons concerned in Ball's Murder, resolving on the first News of a Proclamation, or other Interposition of the State on that Occasion, immediately to quit the Dominions of the Repiiblic. But as Bur7iworth had been betrayed by the only Persons from whom he could reasonably hope Assist- ance, Higgs seized on board a Ship where he fancied himself secure from all Searches, so Blewit and his Associates, though they daily endeavoured to acquaint themselves with the Transactions at London relating to them, fell also into the Hands of Justice, when they least expected it. So equal are the Decrees of Providence, and so inevitable the Strokes of Divine Vengeance. The Proclamation for apprehending them came no sooner to the hands of Mr. Finch, the British Resi- dent at the Hague, but he immediately caused an Enquiry to be made, whether any such Persons as were therein described had been seen at Rotterdam, and being assured that there had, and that they were lodged at the Hambtirgh Arms on the Boom Keys in that City, he sent away a special Messenger to inquire Edward Burnworth, a Robber. 477 the Truth thereof, of which he was no sooner satisfied than he procured an Order from the States- General for apprehending them anywhere within the Province. By Virtue of this Order the Messenger, with the Assistance of the Schools Denaires, the proper Officers for that Purpose in Holland, apprehended Blewit at the House, whither they had been directed. But his two Companions, Dickenson and Berry, had left him and were gone on board a Ship, not Caring to remain any longer in Holland. They conducted their Pri- soner as soon as they had taken him to the Stadt- house Prison in Rotterdam, and then went to the Brill, where the Ship on board which his Companions were, not being cleared out, they surprised them also, and having handcuffed them sent them under a strong Guard to Rotterdam, where they were put in the same Place with their old Associate Blewit. We shall now therefore take an Opportunity of speaking of each of them, and acquainting the Readers with those Steps by which they arose to that unparalelled Pitch of Wickedness, which rendered them alike the Wonder and Detestation of all the sober Part of Mankind. Emanuel Dickenson was the Son of a very worthy Person, whose Memory I shall be very careful of staining upon this Occasion. The Lad was ever wild and ungovernable in his Temper, and being left a Child at his Father's Death, himself, his Brother, and several Sisters, thrown all upon the Hands of their Mother, who was utterly unable to support them in those Extravagancies to which they were inclined. They unfortunately addicted themselves to such evil Courses, therefore, as to them seemed likely to pro- vide such a Supply of Money as might enable them 478 The Life of to take such licentious Pleasures as were suitable to their vicious Inclinations. The natural Consequence of this was that they all fell into Misfortune, espe- cially Emanuel, who having addicted himself to pick- ing of Pockets, and such kind of petty Facts for a considerable Space, at last attempted to snatch a Gentleman's Hat off in the Strand. He was seized with it in his Hand, and committed to Newgate, and at the next Sessions convicted and ordered for Trans- portation ; but his Mother applying at Court for a Pardon, and setting forth the Merit of his Father, procured his Discharge. The only Use he made of this was to associate himself with his old Companions, who by Degrees led him into greater Villanies than any he had until that time been concerned in ; and at last falling under the Direction of Burnworth, he was with the Rest drawn into the Murder of Ball. After this he followed Blewifs Advice, and not thinking himself safe even in Holland, he and Berry went actually on Ship-board, in order to their De- parture. Thomas Berry was a Beggar, if not a Thief, from his Cradle. His Parents were in the most wretched Circumstances, and being incapable of giving him an honest Education, suffered him to idle about the Streets, and to get into such Gangs of Thieves and Pickpockets as taught him from his Infancy the Arts of Diving (as they in their Cant call it), and as he grew in Years brought him on to a greater Pro- ficiency in such evil Practices, in which however he did not always escape with Impunity; for besides getting into the little Prisons about Town, and being whipped several times at the Houses of Correction, he had also been thrice in Newgate, and for the last Edward Burnworth, a Robber. 479 Fact was convicted and ordered for Transportation. However, by some Means or other, he got away from the Ship, and returned quickly to his old Em- ployment, in which he had not continued long, before falling into the Acquaintance of Burnworth, it brought him first to the Commission of a cruel Murder, and after that, with great Justice, to suffer an igno- minious Death. Having been thus particular as to the Circumstances of each Malefactor, let us return to the Thread of our Story, and observe to what their wicked Designs and lawless Courses brought them at last. After they were all three secured and safe confined in Rotterdam; the Resident despatched an Account thereof to England, whereupon he received Direc- tions for applying to the States-General for Leave to send them back. This was readily granted, and six Soldiers were ordered to attend them on board, besides the Messengers who were sent to fetch them. Capt. Samuel Taylor, in the Delight Sloop, brought them safe to the Nore, where they were met by two other Messengers, who assisted in taking Charge of them up the River. In the Midst of all the Miseries they suffered, and the Certainty they had of being doomed to suffer much more as soon as they came on Shore, they behaved themselves with the greatest Gaity imaginable, were full of Jests, and showed as much Pleasantness as if their Circumstances had been the most happy. Observing a Press-gang very busy on the Water, and that the People in the Boat shunned them with great Care, they treated them with the most opprobrious Language, and impudently dared the Lieutenant to come and press them for the Service. On their Arrival at the Tower they were 48o The Life of put into a Boat with the Messengers, with three other Boats to guard them, each of which was filled with a Corporal and a File of Musketeers ; and in this Order they were brought to Westminster, where after being examined before Justice Cholk and Justice Blackerby, they were all three put into a Coach, and conducted by a Party of Foot-Guards to Newgate, through a continued Lane of Spectators, who by their loud Huzzas proclaimed their Joy at seeing these egregious Villains in the Hands of Justice ; for they, like Jonathan Wild, were so wicked as to lose the Compassion of the Mob. On their Arrival at Newgate the Keepers expressed a very great Satisfaction, and having put them on each a pair of the heaviest Irons in the Gaol, and taken such other Precautions as they thought neces- sary for securing them ; they next did them the Honour of conducting them up Stairs to their old Friend Edward Burnworth, who congratulated them on their safe Arrival. They condoled with him on his Confinement, took their Places near him, and had the Convenience of the same Apartment. They were all shackled in the like Manner. They did not appear to show the least Sign of Contrition or Re- morse for what they had done ; on the Contrary they spent their Time with all the Indifference imaginable. Great Numbers of People had the Curiosity to come to Newgate to see them, and Bleivit upon all Occa- sions made use of every Opportunity to excite their Charity, alleging they had been robbed of every- thing when they were seized. Burnworth, with an Air of Indifference remarked, D — n this Blewit; because he has got a long Wig and a ruffled Shirt, he takes the Liberty to talk more than any of us. Edward Burnworth, a Robber. 481 Being exhorted to apply the httle Time they had to hve in preparing themselves for another World, Burnworth replied, if they had any Inclination to think of a fiiture State, it was impossible in their Condition ; so many Persons as were admitted to come to view them in their present Circtimstances mtist needs divert any good Thoughts. But their Minds were totally taken up with consulting the most likely Means to make their Escape, and extricate themselves from the Bolts and Shackles with which they were clogged and encumbered ; and indeed all their Actions showed their Thoughts were bent only on Enlargement, and that they were altogether unmindful of Death, or at least Careless of the future Consequences thereof. On Wednesday, the 30th of March, 1726, Burn- worth, Blewit, Berry, Dickenson, Legee, and Higgs, were all put into a Waggon, handcuffed and chained, and carried to Kingston, under a Guard of the Duke of Bolton s Horse. At their coming out of Newgate they were very merry, charging the Guard to take care that no Misfortune happened to them, and called upon the numerous Crowd of Spectators, both at their getting into the Waggon, and afterwards as they passed along the Road, to show the Respect they bore them by Halloing, and to pay them the Compliments due to Gentlemen of their Profession, and called for several Bottles of Wine, that they might drink to their good Journey. As they passed along the Road they endeavoured to show them- selves very merry and pleasant by their facetious Discourse to the Spectators, and frequently threw Money amongst the People who followed them, diverting themselves with seeing the others strive for it ; and particularly Blewit having thrown out some 2 I 482 The Life of Halfpence amongst the Mob, a little Boy who was present picked up one of them, and calling out to Blewit, told him, that as sure as he, Blewit, would be condemned at Kingston, so sure would he have his Name engraved thereon ; whereupon Blewit took a Shilling out of his Pocket and gave it to the Boy, telling him, there was Something towards defraying the Charge of Engraving, and bid him, be as good as his Word, which the Boy promised he would. On the 31st of March, the. Assizes were opened, together with the Commission of Oyer and Terminer and Gaol Delivery for the County of Sttrrey, before the Right Hon. the Lord Chief Justice Raymond, and Mr. jftcstice Denton. The Grand fury having found Indictments against the Prisoners, they were severally arraigned thereupon, when five of them pleaded Not Guilty; but Burnworth absolutely re- fused to plead at all ; upon which after being advised by the ftcdge, not to force the Court upon that Rigour which they were unwilling at any Time to Practice, and he still continuing obstinate, his Thumbs, as is usual in such Cases, were tied and strained with a Packthread. This having no Effect upon him, the Sentence of the Press, or as it is styled in Law, of the Pain, Fort, and Dure, was read to him in these Words : You shall go to the Place from, whence you came, and there being stripped naked, and laid flat tipon your Back on the Floor, with a Napkin about your Middle to hide your Privy Members, and a Cloth on your Face ; then the Press is to be laid upon you with as mtich Weight as, or rather m-ore than you can bear ; yoti are to have three Morsels of Barley- Bread in Twenty-four Hoars, a Draught of Water from the next Puddle near the Gaol, but not running Edward Burnworth, a Robber. 483 Water ; the second Day two Morsels, and the same Water, with an Increase of Weight, and so to the third Day until you expire. This Sentence thus passed upon him, and he still continuing contumacious, he was carried down to the Stock-House, and the Press laid upon him. He con- tinued for the Space of one Hour and three Minutes under the Weight of three Hundred three Quarters and two Pounds. Whilst he continued under the Press, he endeavoured to beat out his Brains against the Floor ; during which Time the High-Sheriff himself was present, and frequently exhorted him to plead to the Indictment, which at last he consented to do. And being brought up to the Court, after a Trial which lasted from Eight in the Morning until One in the Afternoon, on the First Day of April, they were all six found Guilty of the Indictment, and being remanded back to the Stock-House, were all chained and stapled down to the Floor. Whilst they were under Conviction the Terrors of Death did not make any Impression upon them ; they diverted themselves with repeating Jests and Stories of various Natures, particularly of the Manner of their Escapes before out of the Hands of yustice, and the Robberies and Offences they had committed. And it being proposed for the Satisfaction of the World for them to leave the Particulars of the several Robberies by them committed, Biirnworth replied, that were he to write all the Robberies by him com.- mitted, a hundred Sheets of Paper, wrote as close as could be, would not contain them. Notwithstanding what had been alleged by Higgs, of his forsaking his Companions in the Fields, it appeared by other Evi- dence, that he follozved his Companions to ViaWsHouse, 484 The Life of and was seen hovering about the Door during the Tifne the Mtirdcr was committed with a Pistol in his Hand. As for Burnworth, after Conviction, his Behaviour was as ludicrous as ever ; and being, as I said, a Painter s Son, he had some little Notion of Design- ing, and therewith diverted himself in sketching his own Picture in several Forms, particularly as he lay under the Press, which being Engraved in Copper, was placed as the Frontispiece of a sixpenny Book, which was published of his Life. And the Rest seemed to fall no Way short of him in that silly Con- tempt of Death, which with the Vulgar passes for Resolution. On Monday, the 4th of April, they were brought up again from the Stock-House to re- ceive Sentence of Death. Mr. fustice Defiton before he passed it upon them, made a very pathetic Speech, in which he represented to them the Necessity there was of punishing Crimes like theirs with Death, and exhorted them not to be more Cruel to themselves than they had obliged the Law to be severe towards them, by squandering away the small Remainder of their Time, and thereby adding to an ignominious End an eternal Punishment hereafter. When Sen- tence was passed, they entreated Leave for their Friends to visit them in the Prison, which was granted them by the Court, but with a strict Injunction to the Keeper to be careful over them. After they returned to the Prison, they bent their Thoughts wholly on making their Escape, and to that Purpose had sent to their Friends, and procured proper Implements for the Execution of it. Burnwortli s Mother was sur- prised with several Files, &c., about her, and the whole Plot was discovered hy Bleiuit's Mother being Edward Burnworth, a Robber. 485 heard to say, that she had forgot the Opium. It seems the Scheme was to murder the two Persons who attended them in the Gaol, together with Mr. Elliot, the Turnkey. After they had got out they intended to have fired a Stack of Bavins adjoining to the Prison, and thereby amused the Inhabitants while they got clear off. Burnworth' s Mother was confined for this Attempt in his Favour, and some lesser Im- plements that were sewed up in the Waistband of their Breeches being ripped out, all hopes of Escape whatsoever were now taken away. Yet Burnworth affected to keep up the same Spirit with which he had hitherto behaved, and talked in a Rhodomontade to one of his Guard of coming in the Night in a dark Entry and pulling him by the Nose, if he did not see him decently buried. About Ten of the Clock on Wednesday Morning, they, together with one Blackburn, who, was condemned for robbing on the Highway, a fellow grossly Ignorant and Stupid, were carried out in a Cart to their Execution, being attended by a Company of Foot to the Gallows. In their Passage thither, that audacious Carriage in which they had so long persisted totally forsook them, and they appeared with all that Seriousness and De- votion, which might be looked for from Persons in their Condition. Blewit perceiving one Mr. War- wick among the Spectators, desired that he might stop to speak to him, which being granted, he threw himself upon his Knees, and earnestly entreated his Pardon, for having once attempted his Life, by pre- senting a Pistol at him, upon Suspicion that Mr. Warwick knowing what his Profession was, had given an Information against him. When at the Place of Execution, and tied up, Blewit and Dickenson espe- 486 The Life of cially prayed with great Fervour, and with a becoming Earnestness exhorted all the young Persons they saw near them to take Warning by them, and not follow such Courses as might in Time bring them to so terrible an End. Blewit acknowledged that for sixteen Years last past he had lived by stealing and pilfering only. He had given all the Clothes he had to his Mother, but being informed that he was to be hung in Chains, he desired his Mother might return them to prevent his being put up in his Shirt. He then desired the Executioner to tie him up so that he might be as soon out of Pain as possible ; then he set the Peni- tential Psalm, and repeated the Words of it to the other Criminals ; then they all kissed one another, and after some private Devotions the Cart drew away and they were turned off. Dickenson died very hard, kicking off one of his Shoes, and loosing the other. Their Bodies were carried back under the same Guard which attended them to their Execution. Burnworth and Blewit were afterwards hung iri Chains, over against the Sign of the Fighting Cocks, in St. Georges Fields. Dickenson and Berry were hung up on Kennington Common ; but the Sheriff of Stirrey had Orders at the same Time to suffer his Relations to take down the Body of Dickenson in Order to be interred, after Its hanging up one Day, which Favour was granted on account of his Father's Service in the Army, who was killed at his Post when the Confederate Army besieged Air in the late War. Legee and Higgs were hung upon Putney Com.mon beyond Wandsworth, which is all we have to add concerning these hardened Malefactors, who so long defied the Justice of their Country, and are Edward Burnworth, a Robber. 487 now, to the Joy of all honest People, placed as Spec- tacles for the Warning of their Companions who frequent the Places where they are hung in Chains. 77^1? Life of John Gillingham, a Highwayman and . Footpad, &c. |S want of Education hath brought many who might otherwise have done very well in the World to a miserable End, so the best Education and Instructions are often of no effect to stubborn and corrupt Minds. This was the Case of fohn Gillingham, of whom we are now to give an Account. He had been brought up at Westminster School, but all he acquired there was only a Smattering of Learning, and a great Deal of Self-conceit, fancying Labour was below him, and that he ought to Live the Life of a Gentleman. He associated himself with such Companions as pre- tended to teach him this Art of easily attaining Money. He was a Person very inclinable to follow such Advices, and therefore readily came into these Proposals as soon as they were made. Amongst the rest of his Acquaintance he became very intimate with Burnworth, and made one of the Number in attacking the Chair of the Earl of Harborough, near St. jfamess Church, and was the Person who shot the Chairman in the Shoulder. As he was a young Man of a good Deal of Spirit, so he committed Abundance of Facts in a very short Space ; but the indefatigable Industry which the Officers of Justice 488 The Life of exerted in apprehending Fraziers desperate Gang, soon brought him to the miserable End consequent from such wicked Courses. He was indicted for assaulting Robert Sherly, Esq., upon the Highway, and taking from him a Watch value ;^20. He was a second time Indicted for assaulting John dii Cnm- mins, a Footman, and taking from him a Silver Watch, a Snuff Box, and Five Guhieas in Money, both of which Facts he Steadily denied after his Con- viction. But for the third Crime he was convicted, viz., the sending a Letter to extort Money from Simon Smith, Esq., which follows in these Words : — Mr. Smith, / desire you to send me Twenty Guineas by the Bearer, without letting him know what it is for ; he is innocent of the Contents. If you offer to speak of this to anybody . My Blood and Soul, if you are not a dead Man before Monday Morning ; and if you don't send the Money, the Devil dash my Brains out, if I don't Shoot you the first Time you stir out of Doors ; or if I should be taken there are others that will do your Business for yoit by the first Oppor- tunity ; therefore pray fail not, for • Strike me to instant D — — • if I am not as good as my Word. To Mr. Smith, in Great George Street, over against the Church, near Hanover Square. He confessed that he knew of the writing and sending this Epistle, but denied that he did it him- self, and indeed the Indictment set forth that it was in Company with one fohn Mason, then deceased, that the said Conspiracy was formed. Under Sen- John Gillingham, Foot-Pad. 489 tence of Death, he behaved himself very sillily, laughing and scoffing at his approaching End, and saying to one of his Companions, as the Keeper went down Stairs before them, let us knock him down and take his Keys frorn him. If one leads to Heaven, and the other to Hell, we shall at least have a Chance to get the Right. Yet when Death with all its Horror stared him in the Face, he began to Relent in his Behaviour, and to acknowledge the justness ©f that Sentence which had doomed him to death. At the Place of Execution he prayed with great Earnestness, confessed he had been a grievous Sinner, and seemed in great Confusion in his last Moments. He was about twenty- two Years of Age when he died, which was on the 9th of May, \T2(i, at Tyburn. The Life of ]on^ Cotterel, a Thief &c. |HE Miseries of Life are so many, so deep, so sudden, and so irretrievable, that when we consider them attentively, they ought to inspire us with the greatest Submission towards that Providence which directs us, and fill us with humble Sentiments of our own Capacities, which are so weak and incapable to protect us from any of those Evils to which from the Vicissitudes of Life we are continually exposed, fohn Cotterel, the Subject of this Part of our Work, was a Person descended of honest and industrious Parents, who were exceedingly careful in bringing him up as far as they were able, in such a Manner as might enable 2 K "^^-=" 490 The Life of him to get his Bread honestly, and with some Repu- tation. When he was grown big enough to be put out Apprentice, they agreed with a Friend of theirs, a Master of a Vessel, to take him with him two or three Voyages for a Trial. John behaved himself so well, that he gained the Esteem of his Master and the Love of all his fellow Sailors. When he had been five Years at Sea, his Credit was so good, both as to his being an able Sailor and an honest Man, that his Friends found it no great Difficulty to get him a Ship, and after that another. The last he commanded was of the Burthen of 200 Tuns ; but in this he sustained great Losses himself, and greater still, in supporting his eldest Son, who dealt in the same Way, and with a Vessel of his own, carried on a Trade between England and Holland. He fell through these Misfortunes into Circumstances so nar- row, that he lay two Years and a-half in Newgate for Debt. Being discharged by the Act of Insolvency, and having not wherewith to sustain himself, he broke one Night into a little Chandler s Shop, where he used now and then to get a halfpenny worth of that destructive Liquor Gin, and there took a Tub with two Pounds of Butter, and a Pound of Pepper in it, but before he got out of the Shop he was apprehen- ded, and at the next Sessions was found Guilty of the Fact. While under Sentence of Death, he behaved with the greatest Gravity, averred that it was the first ill Thing of that kind he had ever done. Indeed his Character appeared to be very good, for though his Acquaintance in Town had done little for him hitherto, yet when they saw that they should not be long troubled with him, they sent him good Books, and provided everything that was necessary John Cotterel, a Thief, &c. 491 for him, so that with much Resignation he finished his Days, with the other Malefactors at Tyburti, in the 5 2nd Year of his Age, on the 9th Day of May, 1726. End of Vol. I. ■ ■ '■ " " " JiiiiiifiiLii!" "'"'J J^g 303 196 434 442 16 INDEX. Anderson, Thomas, Scotch Thief Angier, Humphry, Highwayman and Foot-pad . Austin, John, Foot-pad Bailey, Francis, Notorious Highway?nan Barton, William, Highwayman Barton, John, Robber, Highwayman, and Housebreaker i^j^i Berry, Thomas, Rohber 457 Blake, Joseph, alias Blueskin .... 267 Blewit, William, Robber . . . . . -457 Booty, James, Ravisher . . . . .111 Bradley, Thomas, Street Robber . . . -317 Brinsden, Mathias, Murderer . . . . .143 Burk, WiWiaxn, Foot-pad and Highwayman . . t66 Butlock, Thomas, alias Butloge, Thief . . -113 Burridge, William, Highwayman . . . .100 Burnworth, Edward, alias Frazier, Robber &• Murderer 45 7 Burden, Thomas, Robber 222 Bvitltt, ]axats, notorious Highwayman 'and Foot-pad . i8i Cammel, James, Thief and Foot-pad .... 325 Cane, Robert, Foot-pad . . . . . .10 Carrick, James, a/raj- Valentine Carrick, notorious High- wayman and Street Robber . . . .119 Casey, William, Robba- 62 494 INDEX. Charnock, Thomas, Thief .... Clark, Matthew, Foot-pad and Murderer Colthouse, William, Thief and Highwayman Cotterel, John, Thief Curtis, Peter, Housebreaker Davis, Vincent, Murderer .... Davis, Lumley, Highwayman .... Deval, Abraham, Lottery Ticket Forger Dickenson, Emanuel, Robber .... Duce, William, notorious Highwayman and Foot-pad Dykes, John, Thief and Highwayman Elisha, William, Robber ..... Flood, Mathew, Street Robber and Foot-pad Foster, John, Housebreaker .... Frost, William, Robber Gardiner, Stephen, Highwayman and Housebreaker Gillingham, John, Highwaymati and Foot-pad . Griffin, Jane, Murderess .... Guy, John, Deer-Stealer ..... Hamp, John, Foot-pad and Highwayman Hanson, Mary, Murderer .... Harman, James, Highwayman Harpham, Robert, Coiner .... Hawes, Nathaniel, Thief and Robber Hawksworth, Murderer ..... Hewlet, John, Murderer Higgs, John, Robber ..... Houssart, Lewis, (the French Barber) Murderer Jackson, Nathaniel, Highwayman James, Richard, Highwayman Jones, John, Pickpocket ..... Julian, a Black Boy, Incendiary .... INDEX. 495 Kennedy, Walter, Pirate Levee, John, Highwaymmi Lewis, John, alias Laurence, Thief . Lincoln, James, Murderer and Foot-pad Lipsat, Wilham, Thief Little, John, Housebreaker and Thief Little, James, Foot-pad and Highwayman Marjoram, William, Robber , . Marshal William, Thief and Footpad . Massey, Captain, who died for Piracy Meff, John, alias Merth, Housebreaker &= Highwayman 55 MSAiAztQWyloit^, House-breaker and Thief . . 348 Molony, John, Highwaymait and Street Robber . 127 Neal, Edmund, Foot-pad . . . .149 Nunney, Luke, Murderer . . . . .170 Oakey, Richaxd, Street Robber and Foot-pad . .163 Packer, Thomas, Highwayman . . . . .314 Ogden, Samuel, Robber 218 Perkins, Robert, Thief . . . . . .27 Picken, Joseph, Highwayman . . . -311 VncQ, '^ohn, Housebreaker ... -351 Price, John, Housebreaker and Thief . . . 408 Pugh, John, Robber . , ' . . . .219 Reeves, Thomas, notorious Highwayman and Foot-pad 106 Roche, Philip, Pirate, &=€. 188 Schmidt, Frederick, Alterer of Bank Notes . . 324 Smith, Bryan, Threatening Letter Writer . . . 336 Scurrier, Richard, Shop-lifter 439 Shaw, James, alias Smith, Highwayman and Murderer 90 Shepperd, Richard, Housebreaker . . . .13 Shepperd, John, Foot-pad, House-breaker and Prison- breaker . . . . . . . .273 38 159 239 139 319 403 424 457 325 184 496 i IN JJ K X. Smith, John, Murderer Snow, Foster, Murderer . Spencer, Barbara, Coiner . Sperry, William, Foot-pad and Highwayman Stanley, Captain, Murderer Swift, William, Thief Thomson, John, Thief and High^t'ayman Trippuck, John, Highwayman . Towers, Charles, A Minter in Wapping Trantham, Richard, Housebreaker Tyrrell, John, Horse Stealer Ward, Joseph, Foot-pad . Waltham Blacks, History of the, and their transactions, including the Lives and Deaths of Richard Parvin, Edward Elliott, Robert Kingshell, Henry Marshall, John and Edward Pink, and James Ansell, alias Phillips .... Weaver, Charles, Murderer .... Whalebone, John, alias Welbone, Thief . White, James, Private Thief .... Whittingham, Richard, Foot-pad and Street Robber Wigley, John, Highwayman .... Wild, Jonathan, the famous Thief-taker Wilkinson, Robert, Murderer and Foot-pad Wilson, Thomas, notorious Foot-pad Winship, John, Highwayman and Foot-pad. Woodman, Richard, Robber .... Wright, James, Highwayman .... 86 413 33 354 202 453 1-03 8 295 173 175 338 246 15s 420 344 109 60 363 139 131 SI 220 73