 Chapter 1 of Lives of the Most Remarkable Quimnals, Volume 3. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Larry Wilson. Lives of the Most Remarkable Quimnals, Volume 3 by Arthur L. Hayward. The Life of John Turner, alias Civil John, a highwayman. One of the most dangerous passions which can enter the breasts of young people, though at the same time it be one of the most common, is the love of finery, and a mean and foolish ambition to appear better dressed than becomes their station, in hopes of imposing upon the world as persons of much higher rank than they really are. This inconsiderate, ridiculous pride brings along with it such a numerous strain of bad consequences that of a necessity it makes the person inflamed by it unhappy and often miserable for life. In the case now before us, it was still more fatal by adding a violent and ignominious death. John Turner was the son of a person in intolerable circumstances, in the county Cornwall, where he received an education proper for that condition of life in which he was likely to pass through the world. His father was a man of good sense, and of a behavior much more courteous and genteel than is usual among persons of ordinary condition, in a country so remote from London. He was extremely desirous that his son should be like him in this respect, and therefore he continually cautioned him against falling into that rough, gorge manner of behaving which is natural to uneducated clowns, and makes them shocking to everybody but themselves. In this respect John was very compliant with his father's temper, but being put out apprentice to a prurik maker, his obliging carriage endeared him so much, not only to his master and the family, but also to the gentleman on whom as customers to the shop he sometimes waited, that they took a peculiar liking to the boy, and were continually giving him money as a reward for his diligence and assiduity. But John's obliging temper took a turn very fatal to himself, as well as very little suspected by his friends and relations. For having been made use of by some young sparks at Exeter, the place where he served his time, to carry messages to their mistresses, he from this conceived so strong an inclination to become a beau, and a gallant, that in order to it he broke open his master's escritoire and took away a considerable sum of money. With this he came up to London, and went to live as a journeyman with an imminent prurik maker at the court end of the town. There his easy and obsequious temper made him very agreeable to everybody, and his behavior was so just and open that nobody in the neighborhood had a better character than himself. Yet he was far from giving over those extravagancies the earnest desire committing which had brought him to town, for nobody in his station made so handsome a figure as Mr. Turner. His amours with the winches in the neighborhood were very numerous, though out of a point of honor he was careful enough in endeavoring to conceal them. But as they naturally led him into an expensive way of living, which what he got by his trade could in no degree support, he quickly found himself obliged to take to new methods, and thought none so concise and convenient as going upon the road. This he did for some time without arousing the least suspicion, behaving himself towards those whom he robbed with such gentleness and good manners, putting his hat into the coach and taking what money they thought fit to give him. Nay, sometimes returning a part of that, if the dress or aspect of the person gave him room to suspect that their wants were as great as his. From this extraordinary conduct he obtained the name of Civil John, by which he was very well known to the stage-coachmen, wagoneers and other such persons who traveled the western road. Common fame which ordinarily multiplies the adventures of men of his profession circulated a multitude of stories about him which had not the least foundation in fact, and served only to make the poor man more remarkable and consequently the more easy to be taken. Which was accordingly the effect of those foolish inconeums which the vulgar bestowed upon so gentile a robber. About six weeks after he had taken to this unfortunate course of life, and while he yet preserved an unsustained reputation in the neighborhood in which he lived, he was apprehended for a robbery committed on Mr. Eyre from whom he took an inconsiderable son. Yet the fact being clearly proved against him at the next session of the old Bailey, he was convicted and having no relations capable of making interest sufficient to obtain a reprieve, he lost all hopes of life. Under sentence he conducted himself with such calmness, penitence and resignation, confessing the truth of that charge which had been laid against him, acknowledging the justice of the law in this sentence, and disposing himself to submit to it with much cheerfulness and alacrity. This great change in his circumstances and manner of living added to his own uneasy reflections upon those misfortunes into which vanity and ostentation had brought him, soon reduced him by sickness to so weak a state that he was incapable almost of coming to chapel alone. Notwithstanding this he continued to frequent it, some of the people about the prison being so kind as to help him upstairs, as his vices arose rather from the limitations of those fine gentlemen on whom he had waited while alad, so he did not carry them to that height which most of these unhappy persons are wont to do. On the contrary he was very sober, little addicted to gambling, and never followed the common women of the town. But dressed dancing bouts and the necessary entertainments for carrying on his amours were the follies which involved him in these expenses, for the supply of which he thus hazarded his soul and forfeited his life. When the death warrant came down, his sickness had brought him so low that nature seemed inclined to supersede the severity of the law, but too short a time which intervened between it and its execution, and so he came to suffer a violent death at Tyburn a day or two before perhaps he would otherwise have yielded up his breath in his bed. Little could be expected of a person in his weak condition at the place of execution where when he arrived he was utterly unable to stand up. However with a faint voice he desired the prayers of both the minister who attended them and of the spectators of his execution, which happened on 20th of November 1727 in the 26th year of his age. Lives of the Most Remarkable Criminals Volume 3 by Arthur L. Hayward Chapter 2 The Life of John Johnson, a Coiner In excuse of taking base measures to procure money there is no plea so often urged as necessity and the desire of providing for a family otherwise in danger of want. The reason of this is pretty evident since nothing could be a greater alleviation of such a crime, but the word necessity is so equivocal that it is hard to fix its true meaning and unless that can be done it will be as hard to judge of the reasonableness of such an excuse. John Johnson, the criminal on whose life we are next to cast an eye, was born in a very honest and reputable family in the county of Nottingham and received in his youth the best education they were capable of giving him. By this he became able to read tolerably and write well enough for that business to which he was bred, namely a tailor. Throughout his apprenticeship he behaved himself virtually and industriously and left his master with the character of a faithful and deserving young man. When his time was out and he had wrought for some time as a journeyman in the country the common whim of coming up to London seized him and after he had spent some time in town in working hard at his trade he married a wife with whom he lived in good correspondence for many years with the esteem and respect of all who knew him but his family increasing and he consequently finding the charge of maintaining them rise higher than formerly and what was worse that all he was capable of doing could not maintain them. He grew very melancholy. After considering several projects for making his circumstances more easy he at last pitched upon going into Lincolnshire as a place where the cheapness of provisions might balance the number of mouths he had to feed but he had not been long there before he discovered his mistake for the smallness of wages made everything rather dearer than cheaper which plunged him into new difficulties and rendered him incapable of ease or satisfaction. While his wits were thus on the rack and his inventions stretched to the utmost in order to find out some means or other to recoup his pockets he unfortunately fell into the company of a man who under the pretense of being his most zealous friend became though perhaps unwittingly the instrument of his utter ruin for his appearing ever-disconsolate and melancholy gave the countrymen an opportunity of prying into the cause of his concern which he soon discovered to be the narrowness of his circumstances as we naturally find ease in communicating our afflictions to others so Johnson was ready enough to inform him of the truth of his affairs and the man no less assiduous in endeavoring to help him out of these traits into which he had fallen at last his Lincolnshire acquaintance told him there was but one way of recovering his misfortunes and living like a man without labor to which Johnson began now to have a greater version and therefore he eagerly desired to be acquainted with this delightful way of getting on with a grave face his associate told him that what he was about to propose could not be affected without some risk but that a man could not expect to live without trouble or without hazard Johnson said it was true and desired only to be informed wherein the hazard consisted as he would make no scruple of running it for he lacked courage as little as any man upon this his companion opened up to him his whole scheme which consisted in a method of counterfeiting the silver coin to a tolerable degree of likeness Johnson was easily drawn in for he thought there could be no speedier way of getting money than making it his country friend helped him to the necessary implements and Johnson applied himself with such earnestness to his new occupation that in a very short time he greatly outdid his master giving the false money he had made so perfect a similitude to the species for which he made it that it was impossible to distinguish it by the eye but thinking it much more hazardous to attempt putting off in the country than it would be in london and his fellow laborer being of the same opinion they first went to work and coined a considerable sum according to their method and they came up to dispose of it as Johnson had proposed by this time misfortune and remorse had taught the poor man whose life we are writing to addict himself too much to drinking especially to strong liquors so that the first experiment he made of the practicability of getting rid of his false money was in putting off two sixpences to a distiller for gin in which he succeeded without being suspected but going to a shoemakers and buying there a ready-made pair of shoes he was seized for attempting to pay the man with two bad half crowns which though they look pretty well to the eye were nevertheless much too light when they came to be weighed against the metal that it was intended they should pass for when carried before a justice his heart soon failed him and almost as soon as he was asked he revealed the whole truth of the matter impeaching both the countrymen who had taught him and a person with whom they had trusted the secret here in town however his confession was of little benefit to him for at the next sessions he was capitally convicted and from thence forward cast off all hopes of life as he was a man who did not lack good natural parts during the short time he had to live he endeavored to make his prayer to god for the forgiveness of the many errors of his life attending also constantly at the time of public devotion yet for all this he could not be persuaded that there was any great degree of guilt in what he had done but imagined on the contrary that he was much more innocent than his fellow malefactors regretting however the heavy misfortune he had brought upon himself and family two of his children dying during the time of his imprisonment and his wife and third child coming upon the parish in which sentiments he continued until the day of his execution which was on the same with the before mentioned john turner this criminal being then about fifty years of age end of chapter two recording by john brandon chapter three of lives of the most remarkable criminals volume three this is a librivox recording or librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit librivox.org lives of the most remarkable criminals volume three by Arthur L. Hayward chapter three the lives of James Sherwood George Whedon and John Hughes street robbers and foot pads amongst the many artifices by which vice covers itself from our apprehension there is no method which it more commonly takes and yet better succeeds in than by putting on a mask of virtue and thereby imposing the most flegitious actions upon us as things indifferent sometimes as things which may gain applause this was exactly the case with the persons whose lives we are now about to write who were all of them young men of tolerable education but giving way to their vicious inclinations they associated themselves together for the better carrying on those evil practices by which they supported their extravagances into which lewd women especially have betrayed them James Sherwood who was the eldest of them and also went by the name of Hobbes was the son of but mean parents who however took all the pains that were in their power to educate him in the best manner they were able when he grew up they put him out apprentice to a waterman with whom he served his time and was afterwards a seaman in a man of war when at home he spent his time in the worst company imaginable that is idle young men and lewd infamous women as he had naturally a good understanding and quick apprehension he quickly became adroit in every mystery of wickedness to which he addicted himself however justice soon overtook him and his first companions in wickedness upon which he turned evidence and saved his own life by sacrificing theirs he was transported soon afterwards but upon his finding it difficult to live abroad without working a thing for which he had an intolerable aversion he took the first opportunity that offered of returning home again when he returned he fell to his old practices taking up his lodgings at the house of one Sarah Payne a most infamous woman who was capable of seducing unwary youths for the commission of the greatest villainies and then ready to betray them to death either to benefit or secure herself by hers and Sherwood's means George Weedon was drawn in a young man a very reputable parents who have been brought up with the greatest care in the principles of virtue and true religion it seems however that having contracted an acquaintance with a lewd and artful woman who drew him into an excessive fondness for her he yielded to the solicitations of Sherwood and his landlady and took to such courses as they suggested in order to supply himself with money for the entertainment of that strumpet who was his ruin it was but a few days before his apprehension that he had been induced to quit the house of his mother who had ever treated him with the greatest tenderness and affection and instead thereof had taken lodging with the before mentioned Payne who continually solicited him to commit robberies and thefts at length John Hughes alias Hughes another young man joined them though bred up carefully to the trade of a shoemaker by his father who was of the same profession yet for many years he had addicted himself to picking pockets and such other low kinds of theft but had never done any great robbery until he fell into the hands of Sherwood and Whedon and whom he readily agreed to associate himself and to go with them out into more fields and such other places near town as they thought most convenient in order to waylay and rob passengers and at other times when such opportunities did not offer to break open houses and to divide their profits equally amongst them these designs were hardly made before they were put into execution and a very short space elapsed before they had committed many robberies and burglaries always bringing the booty home and spending it ludely and extravagantly in the house of that abandoned monster Sarah Payne it may not be a myth to take notice here how common a thing it is for such wicked old sinners as this woman was to set up houses of resort for lewd and abandoned women at the town who first getting young men into their company on amorous pretenses by degrees bring them on from one wickedness to another till at last they end their lives at the gallows and thereby leave these wretches at liberty to bring others to the same miserable fate these agents to the prince of darkness are usually women who have an artful way of flattering and a pleasing deceitfulness in their address by this means they without much difficulty draw in young lads at their first giving way to the current of their lewd inclinations and before they are aware involve them in such expenses as necessarily lead to housebreaking or the highway for a supply when once they have made a step of this kind by which their lives are placed in the power of those old practitioners in every kind of wickedness they are from thence forward treated as slaves and forced to continue whether they will or no in a repeated course of the like villainies until they are arrested by the hand of justice then none so ready to become evidences against them as those abominable wretches by whom they were at first seduced that was the fate that befell these three unhappy young men of whose courses information being given they were all apprehended and committed close prisoners to Newgate and at the next ensuing sessions not a few indictments were found against them the first indictment they were all three arraigned upon was for felony and burglary in breaking open the house of one William Meek in the night time and taking from thence 12 Gloucester Jesus but the evidence appearing clear only against Sherwood Ayes Hobbs he alone was convicted and the other two acquitted they were then indicted a second time for breaking open the house of Daniel Elvingham in the night time and taking out of it several quantities of brandy and tobacco upon which both Sherwood and Whedon were from very full evidence convicted on a third indictment for breaking into the house of Elizabeth Cogdall and taking thence eight pewter dishes and twenty pewter plates they were all found guilty Sherwood and Whedon also being a fourth time convicted for a robbery on the highway which was proved upon them by the testimony of their landlady Sarah Payne under sentence of death they all testified great sorrow for the offenses of their misspent lives Whedon was of a better temper than the other two retained a greater sense of the principles of religion upon which he had been brought up in his youth and exceeded his companions in seriousness and steadiness in his devotions Sherwood had been a much longer proficient in all kinds of wickedness and the other two having practiced several kinds of thefts for nearly 18 years together and this had habituated him so much to sin that he showed much less penitence than either of his companions Hughes had been a thief in a low degree for some years before he fell into the confederacy of Sherwood and Whedon to which as he frankly owned he was drawn by his own previous inclination rather than the persuasions of any of his companions as the time of their death approach they seemed much more affected than formally they had been in which frame of mind they continued till they suffered which was on the 12th of February 1728 Sherwood being in his 26th year Hughes in the 23rd and Whedon in the 22nd year of his age End of Chapter 3 Chapter 4 of Lives of the Most Remarkable Criminals Volume 3 This is a LibriVox recording or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Lives of the Most Remarkable Criminals Volume 3 by Arthur L. Haywood Chapter 4 The Life of Martin Bellamy a notorious thief, highwayman and housebreaker. This criminal was amongst the number of those whom Long Practice had so hardened in his offences that he took up the humour of glorying in them even under his confinement and persisted in it to the hour of his death drawing up when under sentence or at least giving instructions by which it was drawn up an account of the several street robberies burglaries and other crimes which he had committed in a style which too plainly showed that nothing in his miserable condition afflicted him but the thought of his ignominious death he was to suffer not even the reflection of those crimes which had so deservedly brought him to his fate. By trade he was a tailor and a good workman in his business by which he lived in good credit for some time. It seems he married a woman whose friends at least were very honest people and highly displeased with the villainous course of life he led, in so much that upon his being apprehended and sent to Bridewell on suspicion his wife's brother came to him there in order to know where the prosecutor lived that as he said he might go and make some proposals for making up the affair. Bellamy gave him the best account he could and the man finding out the person advised him to prosecute Martin with the utmost severity in hopes no doubt that he should in this way rid his sister of a very bad husband. However Bellamy was so irritated by the attempt that he would never co-habit with her afterwards but with implacable hatred pursued her and her family with all the mischiefs he was able. The methods with which he and his gang mostly took in robbing, according to the account which as I have said before he has left us of himself, were chiefly these. The gang having met together in the evening used to go three or four in a company to visit the shops of those tradesmen who dealt in the richest sort of toys and other goods that are portable and easily conveyed away. Footnote. Trinkets and such trifles not children's playthings. End footnote. Then one of the company cheapened something or other making many words with the shopkeeper about the price thereby giving an opportunity to some of his companions to hand things of value from one to another till they were insensibly vanished. The honest shopkeeper being left to deplore the misfortune of having such light-fingered customers find the way to his shop. Another practice of theirs to the same laudable purpose was carried on after this manner. Three or four of them walked up and down several streets which by observation they had found fitted for their purpose and on perceiving things of any value lying in a parlor they with an engine contrived for that purpose suddenly threw up the sash and notwithstanding their being persons in the room they would venture to snatch it out and often get clear off before the people who saw them could recover themselves from the surprise. But if there was nobody in the way then one of their associates slipping off his shoes stole softly into the room and handed out whatever was of most value to his companions without doors. But Bellamy was not only adjoined in these ordinary practices but was also perfectly acquainted with the art and mystery of counterfeiting hands. And as an instance thereof upon which he much valued himself he used to relate a trick of that sort which he put upon the late Jonathan Wilde after this manner. Having accustomed himself for some time to frequent the levy of that infamous agent of thieves he became so well acquainted with Jonathan's manner of writing and also with the persons who gave him credit on particular occasions when money was low. Whereupon he took occasion to forge a note from the said Wilde to one wild goose servant at an inn who used to be Jonathan's banker upon emergencies who on receipt of the note paid Bellamy the contents thereof without hesitation. A few days after Mr Wilde and his correspondent met the forgery was soon detected and Jonathan immediately gave directions to that infamous band of villains who were always in his pay and under his direction to leave no means untried for the apprehending Bellamy who from Wilde goose's description he knew to be the man who had been guilty of the forgery. In the search after him they were so assiduous that in a very short space they surprised him at a house in Whitefriars where he was forced to fly up to a garret in order to conceal himself. His pursuers thinking they had now lodged him pretty securely sent notice of it to their master, but Martin perceiving a long rope lying upon a bed in the room where he hid himself resolved for once to venture his neck and having fastened it as well as he could he slipped down by it into the street with so great agility that none of his attendants perceived it till he was in the street by which time he got so much the start of them that they found it but in vain to pursue him and therefore laid by all thoughts of catching him until another opportunity. However the trick he had played them made them so diligent in pursuing him that it was but a very short time before they surrounded him in a brandy shop in Shansbury Lane seized him and brought him in a coach to the elephant and castle ale house Fleet Street from whence they dispatched advice to Jonathan of his apprehension. It happened that that great man was gone to bed when the message arrived with this news, however it was carried up and Jonathan with an air of generosity bid the fellow return and inform his people that he would take Mr Bellamy's word and that he might meet him with safety the next morning at his levee. Bellamy, who well knew the temper of the man, failed not to pay his court at the time appointed and adjourned him to the Baptist Head Tavern in the Old Bailey after drinking a refreshing bottle, he presented Mr Wilde with five guineas by way of atonement for the offence which he had committed against him. Jonathan was so well appeased by the intervention of the Golden Advocates that he promised not only to forgive him himself but also to prevail with Mr Wilde Goose to do the same, provided he entered into a bond for the repayment of the ten guineas. This was a condition easily submitted to by Martin in his present circumstances. This danger thus got over, he returned to his old profession without running any further hazard of Jonathan's interruption. About this time the gang to which he belonged entered upon a new method of house-breaking, which they affected by stealing the keys which fastened the pins in shopkeeper's windows shutters and thereby removing the greatest difficulty they had of getting in. This trade they carried on successfully for a good space though now and then they miscarried in their attempts, particularly at a Goldsmith's shop in Russell Court, where, having got into the shop and being about to remove a show-glass, a man who lay in the shop suddenly started up and presenting a blunderbuss with a great presence of mind, told the thieves that he was tender of shedding their blood and therefore advised them to get off as soon as they could. They took his advice and withdrew accordingly, with great confusion. But the same night they had, as Mr Bellamy expresses it, much better luck at a toy shop not far from the same place, where, entering the house, they found the maid sitting by the fire. She at first screamed, but they soon made her silent and then proceeded to carry off the show-glass with all the boxes that were contained in it. Not long after this, they broke off the padlock from a toy shop in Swithins Alley in Cornhill. Not being able afterwards to enter the house, they fell to work next upon the thick timber that supports the shutters, and after laboring at it about an hour, forced it off, whereupon all the shutters dropping down at once into the court, made so great a clatter that they doubted not that all the neighbourhood was alarmed, and thought it would be no ill night's work if, after such an accident, they had the good luck to escape, upon which they endeavoured to shift every one for himself. However, seeing nobody alarmed at the noise of the falling of the shutters, and that during two hours' time the watch had never passed that way, they took courage at last and returned, entered the house, and putting up the most valuable goods went off without any molestation. A multitude of robberies of the same kind he confessed, but as they are narrated in the account we have so often mentioned, it would be a kind of imposition on our readers to transcribe those accounts here. Wherefore, in the following articles concerning him, we shall make no use at all of any that is to be found there. During the space he led this life, he cohabited with one Amy Fowles, who passed for his wife and bore him several children. At last, though he had so often escaped, he was apprehended for a burglary committed on the house of Mr. Holiday, in Bishop's Gate Street, and upon very full evidence was convicted at the ensuing sessions at the Old Bailey. After his commitment to Newgate he entered, it seems, into a treaty with a certain justice of the peace, for making a full discovery of all his accomplices, which might at that time have contributed very much to the public advantage. But in the interim some person had talked thereof too openly. It came to the ears of one who collected news for a daily paper. This man thereupon went to Bellamy, making the poor fellow believe that he came to him by the direction of some persons in power. A thing not at all unlikely considering that a proclamation had been issued, but very little before, further better encouraging the discovery of and bringing first offenders to justice. And having by this means drawn the poor fellow into a confession of several robberies and burglaries, he digested it, or got somebody to do it for him, into proper paragraphs which were inserted the next day in a newspaper, and gave thereby an opportunity to the persons impeached of making their escape. This rogue therefore defeated Bellamy of all hopes of pardon, and hindered the public from receiving any benefit from his confession, of which enormous villainies were perhaps perpetrated for the sake of a poor crown, the utmost that could be expected by the collector for procuring this extraordinary passage, big with so much mischief, and which in its consequences produced little better than a murder, since it is possible that Bellamy's life might have been saved if a right use had been made of his confession. At his trial he behaved with great impudence, and during the time he lay under sentence continued to affect that gaity, which amongst persons of his profession is too often mistaken for bravery and true courage. But when the fatal day approached he, as is common with most of them, sank much in his spirits, and had a great deal to do to recover himself so as to be able to read the following paper, which he had written for that purpose, and brought with him to the tree, which, as the words of a dying man, I publish verbatim. A copy of the paper read by Martin Bellamy at the place of execution. Gentlemen, I am brought here to suffer an ignominious death for my having willfully transgressed against the known laws of God and my country. I fear there are too many here present who come to be witness of my untimely end, rather out of curiosity, than from a sincere intention to take warning by my unhappy fate. You see me here in the very prime of my youth, cut off like an untimely flower in the rigorous season, through my having been too much addicted to a voluptuous and irregular course of life, which has been the occasion of my committing those crimes for which I am now to suffer. As the laws of God, as well as of men, call upon me to lay down my life as justly forfeited by my manifold transgressions, I acknowledge the justice of my sentence patiently submit to the same without any ranker, ill-will or malice, to any person whatsoever, hoping through the merits of Jesus Christ, who laid down his life for sinners, and who upon the cross pronounced a pardon for the repenting thief under the agonies of death, to be with him permitted to partake of that glorious resurrection and immortality. He has been so graciously pleased to promise to the sincere penitent. I earnestly exhort and beg of all here present to think seriously of eternity, a long and endless eternity, in which we are to be rewarded or punished according to our good or evil actions in this world, that you will all take warning by me and refrain from all willful transgressions and offenses. Let a religious disposition prevail upon you, and use your utmost endeavours to forsake and fly from sin. The mercies of God are great, and he can save even at the last moment of life, yet do not therefore presume too much lest you provoke him to cast you off in his anger and become fearful examples of his wrath and indignation. Let me prevail upon you to forget and forgive me all the offenses and injuries I have committed or promoted in action, advice or example, and entreat your prayers for me that the Lord would, in mercy, look down upon me in the last moment of my life. His prayer, look down in mercy, O God, I beseech thee, upon me a miserable lost and undone sinner, number not my transgressions, nor let my iniquities rise up in judgment against me. Wash me and I shall be clean, purge me and I shall be free from offence, though my sins be as scarlet, they shall be whiter than snow, if thou pleasest but to receive me amongst those whom thou hast redeemed. That I may sing praises to the Most High and extol thy holy name, in the courts of heaven, for ever and ever more. Amen." He suffered on the 27th of March, 1728, being then about eight and twenty years of age. CHAPTER V. the lives of William Russell, Robert Crouch, and William Holden, street robbers, foot-pads. Although the insolency of those street robbers, to whose gang the malefactors we are now speaking of belong, be at present too recent a fact to be questioned, yet possibly, in future times, will be thought an exaggeration of truth to say that even at noonday and in the most open places in London, persons were stopped and robbed. The offenders for many months escaped with impunity, until those crimes became so frequent, and the terrors of passengers so great that the government interposed in an extraordinary manner, a royal proclamation being issued offering one hundred pounds reward for apprehending any offender, and also promising pardon to any who submitted and revealed their accomplices. This brought numbers of young rash youths who had engaged in this wicked course of life, to a violent and ignominious death. William Russell was descended from persons of honourable family and unblemished reputation. In his youth he had received a tolerable education, which even in his misfortunes rendered him more civilised than any of his companions. He was a young fellow of tolerable good sense, ready wit, and great courage. He always spoke frankly of the wickedness of his own life, and acknowledged that sensual pleasures were only what he aimed at in the course of life he led, yet he had never been able to reap any satisfaction in them, but had always been miserable in his own mind, from the time he pursued those base methods of gaining money. His father being gone over to Ireland, and he left at liberty to pursue what methods he thought best, evil women and bad companies soon prevailed with him to fall into those methods which afterwards led him to the gallows. Robert Crouch, the second of these criminals, was born at Dunstable, a very honest parent who afforded him as good an education as it was in their power to give, and then, upon his own inclination to follow the business of a butcher, bound him to one in Newgate Market, with whom he served his time, but as soon as he was out of it he addicted himself to gaming, drinking and whoring, and all the other vices which are so natural to abandoned young fellows in low life. Dalton, who was an evidence against him, was one of the chief persons of his gang, and specially persuaded Crouch to join with him, though he had very little occasion to fall into such ways of getting money, since his father was a man in very good circumstances, who designed to set his son in his trade in a short time, having not the least suspicion that this melancholy accident would intervene. William Holden, the third of these unhappy persons, was born of very mean parents, had little education, and had followed no particular trade, but had sometimes gone to see, and at other times driven a hackney-coach, so that throughout the whole course of his life he had been continually plunged in the grossest debaucheries, whereby he became ripe for such practices as he and his associates afterwards went upon. It does not appear, from the papers that I have, that any of these criminals had followed that infamous course of life for above a year, when Dalton, to save his own life, surrendered, and made a confession by which these and the rest of his associates were quickly apprehended, and committed as prisoners to Newgate. At the ensuing sessions at the old Bailey they were all indicted for assaulting one Martha Hyde on the highway, and taking from her a broad-cloth coat, value forty shillings, a looking-glass, value thirty shillings, a woman's nightgown, and other goods, to the value of thirty shillings more. To prove this charge James Dalton was produced, who swore that at about nine o'clock at night himself and the prisoners overtook the prosecutor, Martha Hyde, in Fleet Street, and observing that she had a bundle they resolved to take it from her. In order to accomplish their design they followed her into Lincoln's infields, where Robert Crouch, alias Bob the Butcher, knocked her down, and Russell took up the bundle and ran away with it. Upon their opening thereof the looking-glass fell out and was broke all to pieces. The rest of the things they sold to one Sarah Watts, who made it her business to buy stolen goods, and kept what in their can't is called a lock, that is, a place for the receipt of such things. Dalton swore moreover that not having carefully examined the things they were extremely mortified to hear afterwards that there was forty shillings in specie wrapped up in a bag which the woman that bought them got into the bargain. Martha Hyde herself deposed that crossing Lincoln's infields she was knocked down and the bundle taken from her, as Dalton had before related. When Solomon Nicholas deposed that, not long after, Russell and Crouch, quarreling between themselves at a brandy shop, Russell said to his companion, "'If you offered a medal with Nicholas, I'll cut the coat off your back, for it's the woman's coat that we knocked down in Lincoln's infields, and I have as much right to it as you have.' It appeared also by another witness that Crouch pawned an old coat to pay for the altering of this, and after taking off a cloth cape which it had at the time of its being stolen, he caused a velvet one to be sewn on in its room. Mr. Willis, the constable, was the last witness called for by the prosecutor. He swore that, at the time that he apprehended the prisoner Russell, he acknowledged that the goods before mentioned were stolen and sold for one pound two shillings, but said he did not value it, since he should die in the company of such brave fellows. The jury withdrawing after hearing this evidence returned soon after and found them guilty, and the sentence of death was passed upon them, at one of the fullest sessions which had happened for many years at the Old Bailey, there being twenty-two men and seven women capitally convicted. As these unhappy men could have little hope of life, considering the nature and notoriety of their offences, they ought certainly to have laid aside all other thoughts and have applied themselves strictly, beseeching pardon of God for their numberless offences against him. Instead of this, there appeared too much affectation of unconcernedness in all of them, especially in Russell, who, being confined in the same cell with Holden, said to his companion a day or two before his death, with an air of indifference, I'll undertake, will, to procure a coach to carry off our bodies from the place of execution, but I must leave it to the care of your fraternity, meaning the Hackney Coachman, to prevent their being seized on by the surgeons. Russell and Holden heard all this very gravely, assented to the proposition without altering his countenance or giving any other mark of his concern for that infamous death which shortly they were both to suffer. Russell also took a certain pleasure in speaking of the state of street robbing at the time they left the world. He averred that the town was much mistaken in imagining that the king's proclamation had effectually crushed their fraternity, into which opinion they perhaps might be drawn by seeing so many of them perish in so short a time, which, he said, did not lessen their society, but would not withstanding that, put all that remained of them upon bolder exploits than ever, to show that they were yet unhanged, in which conjecture he was not very much out. However, he said, gentlemen might now safely walk the streets without fear of having their pockets picked, for that Benjamin Branch, who died the last sessions, and Isaac Ashley, who was to suffer with him, were the two neat masters in that way, and were capable of earning fifteen or sixteen shillings by it in two or three hours' time, sorting the fruits of their industry into several parcels, from the value of sixpence to half a crown apiece, as dexterously as any milliner in London. After the coming out of the death-warrant, Russell lay beside much of his boldness, appeared with more gravity at prayers, and expressed greater sorrow for his misspent life than he had done before. Crouch carried himself very quietly all along, but could not forbear being unseasonably merry in jocos upon several occasions, smiling at chapel, and affecting to talk with greater gaiety than became his condition. He himself owned that this was very unbecoming in a person so near an ignominious death, but he said it was in his temper, and he could not help it. He frankly acknowledged the enormity of that course of life which for some years past he had led, acknowledged that on the coming out of the king's proclamation he had resolved on a four-year's voyage to sea, but was prevented from putting in an execution by Dalton's information. As the time of their death drew near he became more and more sensible of his miserable condition, and the danger there was of losing his soul as well as his body. William Holden at first denied very strongly his being in any degree guilty of the fact for which he died, but when he heard that Russell had owned it, and at the same time confessed that he was concerned in it, thinking it no further use to adhere to that denial he retracted it, and acknowledged that he had been a great sinner, and had committed several thefts before that for which he died. In a word, these three, as they had been companions together in wickedness and fellow sufferers in the punishment which their crimes had drawn upon them, so they appeared to be all of them sensibly touched with sorrow and remorse for that multitude of crimes which they had committed, endeavoring to merit the pardon of God by hearty prayers and a sincere repentance. Russell, however, declared but a day or two before his execution that Dalton, the evidence, had proposed to him to join in that information he gave against their companions, but that he scorned to save his life by so mean a practice as betraying those who had received him into their friendship. Their deportment at the place of execution was resolute without obstinacy or impenitence, and the last moments of their lives were full of seriousness, without any marks of timorousness or confusion. Russell was about twenty-five, Crouch about twenty, and Holden somewhat more than twenty-eight years of age at the time they suffered, which was on Monday, twentieth of May, seventeen-twenty-eight. CHAPTER VI. THE LIVES OF CHRISTOPHER, ALIAS TOMAS ROLLINS. Although the several criminals whose lives we are now going to relate do not so well tally with one another, they having been of different gangs and dying for various offences, yet, as they were all apprehended in consequence of the before-mentioned proclamation, were street robbers and most of them not unknown to each other, I thought it would be better to speak of them here all at once, rather than divide them into several lives. I have very little to say of any of them worthy the attention of the reader. TO BEGIN THEN WITH CHRISTOPHER, ALIAS TOMAS ROLLINS. He was the son of very honest parents here in town, who brought him up as well as their circumstances would permit, and when he grew big enough to go out to a trade, put him apprentice to a silversmith, with whom he served out his time with tolerable reputation. But being a lad of great gaiety in spirit, having much addicted himself to the company of young fellows of a like disposition, frequented dancing-meetings, and taken delight in everything but his business, such inclinations as these easily betrayed him to the commission of the greatest crimes, and a certain alertness in his temper made him very acceptable to those debauched young fellows who were his usual companions to such places. Whether he was at first seduced by the persuasions of others to the committing thefts and robberies, or whether those necessities to which their extravagancies had reduced them, put him and his associates on taking such measures for filling their purses, is hard to be determined. But certain it is that for some time before his being apprehended he had been very busy in committing such exploits, and for his courage and dexterity was looked upon as one of the chief of the gang. Isaac Ashley, who was Rollins' companion, and who went commonly amongst them by the nickname of Black Isaac, was a fellow of a very different caste. His parents were poor people, who had, indeed, taken as much care as was in their power of his education, and afterwards provided for him as well as they were able, putting him out to a weaver in spittle-fields. But he made them a very ill return for all their care and tenderness, proving an obstinate, idle, and illiterate fellow, willing to do nothing that was either just or reputable, and who, except for his dexterity and pocket-picking, was one of the most stupid, incorrigible wretches that ever lived. He followed the practice of petty thieving for a considerable space, but though he got considerably thereby, he lost his money continually at gaming, and so remained always in one state, vis, very poor and very wicked, which is no very uncommon case amongst such sort of miserable people who lavishly waste what they hazard their souls and throw away their lives to obtain. John Rodin, alias Hulks, the latter being his true name, had the advantage of a very tolerable education, the effects of which were not obliterated by his having been many years addicted to the vilest and most flogitious course of life that can possibly be imagined. The principles with which he had been seasoned in his youth served to render him more tractable and civilized when under his last misfortunes, unto which he fell with the two of four mentioned malefactors. They all being indicted for assaulting one Mr. Francis Williams on the highway, and taking from him a silver watch, value three pounds, two guineas, and a moidor, on the 28th of February, 1728. The prosecutor deposed that going in a hackney-coach between Waiting Street and St. Paul's school he heard the coachman called on to stop, immediately after which a man came up to the side of the coach, presented a pistol, and demanded his money. Four more presented themselves at the coach windows, offering their pistols and saying they had no time to lose. One of them thereupon thrust his hand into his fob, and took out his money and his watch. Jones next produced the watch to the court, and said he had it from Dalton, who was the third witness called to support the indictment. He deposed that himself, the three prisoners at the bar, and another person not yet taken, were those that attacked the coach. That himself came up first and routed afterwards, who took the watch as himself did the money. Rollins and he's secreting one guiney from their companions, and afterwards paunting the watch for two guineys more. Mr. Willis, the constable, swore that having received information of certain disorderly persons, he thereupon went and apprehended Dalton, the evidence, who, making an ingenious confession, told him of the robbery committed on Mr. Williams and where the prisoners then were. Whereupon he went immediately to apprehend them also. Dalton produced a pistol after he was apprehended, and declared that Rollins had the fellow to it, which was loaded with a slug. When they came to the place where the prisoners were, Rollins and Rodin made an obstinate defense, sword in hand, and were with great difficulty taken, while Ashley hid himself under the bed in hopes of making his escape in the confusion. Mr. Willis's brother swore to taking a pistol from Rollins, such as Dalton had described, and which was loaded with a slug. The prisoners had nothing to say in their defense, except flatly denying everything, and avering that they did not so much as no Dalton. But Mr. Wyatt being produced swore to the contrary of that, affirming that they were very intimate and that they all lodged together at his house. The jury having received their charge from the judge took but a small time to consider, and then returning brought in their verdict that they were all guilty, whereupon at the close of the sessions they received sentence with the rest. Edward Benson was the son of very reputable persons in the City of London, who had taken all due care in providing him a suitable education, with respect both to the principles of learning and of religion, and when he was at years of discretion they put him out apprentice to a silver wire-drawer. In himself he was a young man of good understanding, of a sweet temper, and but too tractable in his disposition, which seems to have been the cause of most of his misfortunes. For during the time of his apprenticeship being so unlucky as to fall into bad company he was easily seduced to following their measures, although he was far enough from being naturally debauched, and seemed to have no great vice but his inclination to women, which occasioned his marrying two wives, who notwithstanding lived peacefully and quietly together. The papers I have do not give any distinct account of the manner in which he first came to join in the excruble employment of plundering and robbing in the streets, and therefore it may be presumed he was drawn into it by his companions whom we are next to mention. George Gale, alias Kitty George, was a perfect boy at the time of his suffering death, and though descended of very honest parents, who no doubt had given him some education in his youth, yet the uninterrupted course of wickedness, in which he lived from the time of his being able to distinguish between wrong and right, had so perfectly expunged all notions of justice or piety, that never a more stupid or incorrigible creature came into this miserable state. Thomas Nieves, who had been their associate in all their villainies, was the person who gave information against him, Benson, and several other malefactors we shall hear after speak of. Gale, as is common with such people, complained vehemently against the evidence who had undone him. As death approached he shed tears abundantly, but was so very ignorant that he expressed no other marks of penitence for his offenses. Thomas Crowder was a young man of an honest family, and of a very good education. His friends had put him out apprentice to a cabinetmaker. Before he was out of his time he thought fit to go to sea, where, for odd appears by our papers, he behaved himself very honestly and industriously. Coming home from a voyage a little before his death he was so unfortunate as to fall into the company of Nieves, the who, pretending to have money and an inclination to employ it in the Holland trade, prevailed on poor Crowder to attend him three or four days, in which space Nieves was married, and had great junketines with his new wife and her friends. In the midst of this they were all apprehended, and Nieves, with how much truth must be determined at the last day, put this unhappy man into his information, and gave evidence against him at his trial, when Benson, Gale, and this Crowder were indicted for assaulting James Culver on the highway, and taking from him a watch, value forty shillings, and five shillings in money. For this offense, chiefly on the Oath of Nieves, they were all capitally convicted. James Toon was another of those unhappy persons who suffered on the Oath of Nieves. He had spent his time mostly upon the water, having been a seaman for several years, and after that a bargeman. He was a young man of tolerable good sense, very civil in his behaviour, and in nothing resembling those who were ordinarily addicted to robbing and thieving. His parents were persons in tolerable circumstances, and had taken a due care of his education. The particular crime for which he died was assaulting James Fleming in the company of George Gale and Edward Brown, Alias Benson, and taking from him, the said Fleming, a silver watch, value forty shillings, and two guineas in money, the third of April. John Hornby had been bred for some time at school, being descended of honest parents, who put him apprentice to a joiner. But being naturally inclined to idleness and vice, in a short time he had occasion to take base and illegal methods to acquire money. His necessities were also increased through foolishly marrying a woman, while he was yet a perfect boy and knew not how to maintain her. Picking pockets was his first resource, and the method of thieving which he always liked best, and got most money at. But being of a very easy temper, his companions found it no hard thing to persuade him into taking such other methods of robbing as they persuaded him would be more beneficial. And in this, Benson seems to have been one of his chief advisors. In himself, Hornby was good-natured, and much less rude and boisterous than some of his companions. He had been but a very short time engaged in the street robbing practice, and did not seem to have courage or boldness sufficient to make himself considerable amongst his companions in those enterprises, which in all probability was the reason that while under confinement they treated him but very indifferently, and sometimes went so far as to give him ill names and blows, which he endured without saying much, and seemed perfectly resigned to the several punishments which his own iniquities had brought upon him. The crime for which he died was a robbery committed on the highway, upon the person of one Edward Ellis, from whom was taken a silver watch, valued four pounds, and two guineas in money. William Sefton was born in Lancashire, and during the lifetime if his father received a tolerable education. But on his mother's marrying another husband, Sefton, who had been bred a barber and a prerook maker, finding things not to go to his mind, came up to London. But changing place did not seem to make him much easier, so that after having led an unsettled life for a considerable space, he became at length a common soldier. Twelby easily imagined that this choice of his did not much better his fortunes, and possibly the company which his military life obliged him to keep, served only to increase his courage so far as to enable him to take a purse on the highway, a practice he had pursued with pretty good success a considerable time before he was taken. But being a naming close fellow, he robbed with so much precaution that he was little suspected until taken up for the offence for which he died, which was for assaulting Henry Bunn on the highway and taking from him a silver watch, two pieces of foreign gold, and two pounds, eleven shillings in money. Richard Nichols was a man in the middle age of life, of a grave and civil deportment, of good character, and who was a barber and prerook maker. He had lived by his profession without the least suspicion of being guilty of any such crime as that for which he died. He was convicted chiefly on the evidence of kneves, for feloniously stealing nine silver watches and a gold watch, the property of Andrew Moran and others in the dwelling-house of the said Moran. As there was nothing remarkable in this man's life, and as it did appear that he was not flagrantly guilty of any other vice except drinking and wasting his own money, so it would be needless to dwell longer upon his adventures prior to his condemnation. Therefore we shall go on to speak of the behavior of these criminals while they remained under sentence of death. Christopher Rawlins seemed to retain much of his old, boisterous temper, and though he would bring himself to speak with more decency concerning the great duty of repentance, which now alone remained for them to practice, yet in a little time he would fly out into strange and blasphemous expressions, for which being reproved by William Russell, whom we have before mentioned as being under sentence at the same time, he answered, What does it signify to prepare ourselves, since we have passed through so wicked a life in this world, and now have so short a time to remain in it? He frequently expressed a despair of God's mercy, though after the death warrant came down he appeared somewhat more easy and in a better disposition to offer up his prayers to the Almighty. As to the crimes for which he suffered he readily and ingenuously confessed them, owning the justice of the sentence which had been passed upon him, and expressed this sense of the multitude of offenses which he had committed, such as he acknowledged deserved no mercy here, nor without the interposition of the mercy of God hereafter. Yet in the midst of these expressions of penitence he could not forbear doing something in his old way, and a few days before his execution actually cut the tassels from the pulpit cushion in the chapel. Ashley was very frank in his confessions of the numberless thefts which he had committed in the course of his wicked and licentious life. But he prematurely denied that he had any concern whatsoever in the robbery for which he was to die, and this was confirmed by Rollins and Benson, who said that they indeed committed it, but that Ashley was no ways concerned therein. However, as far as his stupid disposition would give him leave he sometimes expressed great penitence for the deeds which he had committed. Yet the Sunday before his death he stole five or six handkerchiefs at chapel, of which when the ordinary spoke to him at the place of execution he only said that it was true but that he must have something to subsist on. Rowden acknowledged the justice of his sentence that he was guilty of the crimes laid to his charge and behaved in every respect like a true and sincere penitent. Benson showed the same easiness and sweetness of temper which he had always been remarkable for, even to the last moment of his life. He expressed indeed much sorrow for his having lived deliberately in a continued course of adultery with two women who both of them averred that they had been lawfully married to him. He frankly confessed his own guilt and that the sentence of the law was just, dying as far as we were able to judge in a composed and penitent disposition of mind. George Gale, though he owned he had for some time been a thief, yet he absolutely denied his having any concern in the robberies before mentioned, but he have heard that Neves, knowing his character, took the advantage of putting him in the information as knowing that he had neither friends nor interest to make his innocence appear. Indeed, Benson did so far confirm what Gale had said that he owned he alone committed the robbery for which he was convicted, and to this they both adhered to their last moments at the place of execution, where Gale wept bitterly and with all outward tokens of sorrow confessed the multitude of sins he had committed throughout the whole course of his life. Tom Crowder persevered even to death in denying any concern with Neves, further than his being deluded with the hopes of joining with him in a trade to Holland and France, yet the ordinary tells us in his account of these criminals that he had reason to believe that Crowder, not withstanding this, was guilty, because a gentleman averred that he had owned as much to him in the chapel the very day he died. James Toon continued to behave with a uniform submission to the decrees of Providence, absolutely denied his being guilty of the fact for which he was convicted, yet acknowledged that he had led a very sinful life, and therefore looked on it as a great mercy of the Providence of God that he had so much time to reflect and repent in. Hornby wept and lamented grievously for the miseries which he had brought on himself and those who were related to the him, said he had for a long time been guilty of illegal practices, but would not acknowledge that he had been guilty of that for which he was condemned. Sefton appeared under condemnation to have a very just idea of the wretched state he was in, the necessity there was of preventing, by a thorough repentance, a yet more severe judgment than that under which he then lay. He acknowledged the crime for which he died, said he had been drawn to the commitment of the Providence of God, and commissioned of it by the persuasion of a person whom he named, and at the place of execution declared he died sorry for all his sins and in charity with mankind. He had hardly been turned off a minute before the rope broke and he fell to the ground, but the sheriff's men laying hold on him he was soon tied up again and so executed in pursuance of his sentence. Richard Nichols, as he always behaved with great decency, and was of a sober, serious, and religious disposition, so he constantly affirmed, though without vehemence or any signs of passion, that he knew nothing of the robbery whereof he stood convicted, but that his life was basely sworn away by knieves, the evidence, without the least grounds whatsoever, he having never associated himself with street robbers, or been concerned in any sort of thieving whatever. In this he persisted to the time of his death, repeating it, and avering it at the place of execution, and indeed, there is the greatest reason to believe that he spoke nothing but the truth, because Thomas Neves, the witness, when he came afterwards to die at Tyburn, did acknowledge that he knew nothing of Nichols, nor had ever seen him before his being committed at the Justices, and begged that God would pardon his crying sin of perjury and murder in taking the life of an innocent man. These malifactors suffered on the 20th of May, 1728. Rollins being 22, Ashley 26, Rowdon 24, Benson 24, Gale 17, Crowder 22, Tune 25, Hornby 21, Sefton 26, and Nichols, 40 years of age. End of Chapter 6. Idolness, lewd women, and bad company are the sum total of those excuses urged by criminals when they come to be punished, even for the most flagrant offenses. With just reason Richard Hughes exclaimed on them all, for from youth upwards he had ever addicted himself to laziness, and a dislike to that business to which he was bred, vis that of a bricklayer. Following loose women was the thing in which he took the most delight, and was probably the occasion of his subsequent misfortunes. The immediate cause of them was his acquaintance with William Sefton before mentioned, with whom he joined in a confederacy to rob on the highway, a thing to which his necessities in some measure drove him, since he had squandered all he had in the world on those abandoned women with whom he conversed, and had contracted so bad a reputation that he found it hard to be employed in his business. Into this wretched confederacy entered also the other offender, Brian McGuire, an Irishman born in the county of Wicklow. He had been bred a Sawyer, but was never very well pleased with the trade which required so much hard labor. However, he worked at it some time after he came to England, but some of his countrymen persuading him that it was much easier to live by sharpening, a practice they very well understood. He readily fell into their sentiments, and soon struck out a new method of cheating, which brought them in more and with less hazard than any of the ways pursued by his associates. The artifice was this. By repeated practice he found a way to pull his tongue so far back into his throat that he really appeared to have none at all. And by going to coffee houses and other places of public resort for the better sort of people, he, by pretending to be dumb and then opening his mouth and showing them what looked only like the root of a tongue, obtained large charities. He had great success in this cheat for a long time, but at last was discovered by a gentleman's blowing some snuff into his throat. Which, by setting him a coughing, detected the imposter. Then, being very straightened, he fell in with sefton and hues, with whom having cheated and tricked for a little space, they at last came all to an agreement of going together upon the highway and sharing their booty equally amongst them. However, their partnership was of no very long continuance, for in nine or ten days they were all apprehended and brought to condine punishment. Hues had been a soldier as well as sefton and had quitted the army to go upon the highway, which was a very luckless occasion for him. Being quickly apprehended he was charged with five several capital indictments, to all of which, when he came to be arraigned, he resolutely pleaded guilty. And when admonished by the court that the crimes with which he was charged were felonies without benefit of clergy, he persisted therein, saying that he would not give the judge nor the gentleman of the jury unnecessary trouble. Maguire was indicted on four of the indictments, which had been preferred against Hues, and capitally convicted upon them all. He was no sooner under sentence than he declared himself to be of the communion of the Church of Rome. However, he attended constantly at the chapel, seemed to listen earnestly to what was said there, and made responses very regularly to the several prayers, a thing which papists very seldom comply with. However, Brian appeared to be a very reasonable man in this respect, saying that he hoped God would be satisfied with that imperfect atonement which he was able to make for his offenses, and would not impute it to him as a sin that he had taken all occasions which offered of presenting his petitions for remission. In this disposition he continued until the day of his execution, when both he and Hues appeared very composed and penitent, desiring the prayers of those who were witnesses of their death, submitting thereto with all exterior marks of proper resignation, on the 26th day of June 1728, Hues being 24 and Maguire 28 years of age or their abouts. End of Chapter 7, Recording by Andrea Kay. Chapter 8 of Lives of the Most Remarkable Criminals, Volume 3. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Jen McEwen. Lives of the Most Remarkable Criminals, Volume 3 by Arthur L. Hayward. Chapter 8. The Life of James Howe. Aelius Harris. A notorious highwayman and thief. Though generally speaking, the old saying holds true that nobody becomes superlatively wicked at once. Yet it may also be a ver that a long and habitual course of vice at last so hardens the soul that no warnings are sufficient, no dangers so frightful, nor reflections so strong as to overcome lewd inclinations, when their strength has become increased by a long unrestrained indulgence. The criminal of whom we are now to speak was a native of the town of Windsor in the county of Berks. His parents were honest people in the middling circumstances, who yet took such care of his education that he was fit for any business to which he would have applied himself. But he, on the contrary, continued to lead a lazy and indolent course of life, sauntering from one place to another and preferring want and idleness to industry and labor, at last becoming so burdensome to his relations that with much ado they sent him to sea. There, being of a robust constitution and of a bold, daring spirit, he quickly gained some preferment in the ship on board which he sailed, and might possibly have done very well if he had continued at sea for any time, having the good luck to serve on the board the admiral's vessel, and to be taken notice of as a sprightly young fellow capable of coming to good. But alas, James soon blasted this prospect of good fortune, for no sooner was he on shore than laying aside all the views he had formed of rising in the navy, he associated himself with some of his old companions. They persuaded him to take a purse, as the shortest and easiest method of supporting those expenses, into which his inclinations for sensual pleasures naturally plunged him. He too easily listened to their persuasions, and from that time forward, he left nothing un-stolen upon which he could lay his fingers. Punishment did not pursue his crimes with a laden pace, on the contrary, he had scarce offenced air, she made him sensible of the offences. Bridewells, prisons, duckings, lashings, and beatings of hemp were made familiar to him by his running through them several times in the pace of a few years. At length, as he increased the guilt of his crimes, so he added to the weight of his sufferings. For after having been at Newgate several times for lesser offences, he was at last committed for a felony, and being convicted thereof, was ordered for transportation. Rightly conceived that if he was carried into the plantations, he would be obliged to work very hard, which he most dreaded. In order to escape, he forged a letter as from a certain man of quality, directing that he should be set at liberty in order to serve as a good hand on board one of his majesty's ships. His old ill luck pursuing him, the forgery was detected, and he was there upon order to remain two years at hard labour in Bridewell. But when he was brought thither, the keeper absolutely refused to have anything to do with him. They knew him of old and said he was a fellow only fit to make other criminals who were there unruly, by projecting and putting them into a way of making their escape. Upon this, he was carried back to Newgate and remained a prisoner for that space of time. How he came by his liberty again, I cannot take upon me to say. All that appears from my papers is that he made a very ill use of it as soon as he obtained it, returning immediately to the commission of those crimes for which he had before forfeited. At length, turning housebreaker, he was committed for feloniously stealing five pounds out of the house of John Spence, for which fact, at the sessions following, a bill of indictment was found against him, and he was there upon arraigned. At first, he insisted that overtures had been made in order to procure discoveries from him, and therefore he desired that he might be admitted in evidence. The court informed him that they would enter into no altercation with the prisoner at the bar, that he had heard the nature of the charge preferred against him, and that now they could hear nothing from him unless he pleaded guilty or not guilty. He persisted, abstainedly, in his first demand, in the consequence thereof, abstainedly refused to plead, whereupon he was told from the bench that such behavior was not a proper method to excite the mercy of the court, that it was not in their power to comply in any degree with what he desired, but that, on the contrary, they should proceed to pass sentence upon him as a mute. By which be would be subjected to a much greater and more grievous punishment than if he were found guilty of the crime of which he was accused. All this made no impression upon the criminal. He said he could but die, and the manner in which he died was indifferent to him. And so sentence, as is usual in such cases, was pronounced upon him, and he was ordered to be carried back and put into the press. But when he had carried it so far and found there was no avoiding the cruel fortune, which was appointed for such obstinate persons as himself, he desired time till the next morning to consider his plea. Which being permitted him, he that time pled guilty. While under sentence of death something very extraordinary occurred in relation to this malefactor, it seems that one Mrs. Dawson had a parcel of plate consisting of two silver tankards, two silver mugs, a silver cup, and a punch ladle, seven pounds, sixteen shillings and money, and a great quantity of papers of considerable value stolen out of her house. She suspected one Eleanor Reddy and caused her to be apprehended, who thereupon confessed that she opened the door of her mistress's house in the night time and let in one William Reed, that she saw him take away the plate and watched in the meantime to observe if anyone came. Upon this confession she herself was convicted, but no evidence appearing against William Reed who was tried with her, he was acquitted. After she received sentence of death she declared herself absolutely innocent of the fact for which she was to die, affirming that as soon as she was taken up some neighbors persuaded her to make such a confession and to charge William Reed with stealing the things, assuring her that if she did so she would preserve herself by coming a witness against him. Being a silly, timorous creature in herself and terrified by their suggesting that if she did not take the method they proposed somebody would infallibly swear against her. She with much ado assented and being carried before Justice Jackson made and signed such a confession as is before mentioned. But how Alias Harris whose life we are now writing declared that he himself robbed Mrs. Dawson and that he had a considerable quantity of the plate and most of the papers in his power. Offering to restore them if the said Mrs. Dawson had interest enough to procure a pardon either for himself or Ellen or Reddy. But the ordinary assured him that Mrs. Dawson could do no such thing and at the same time exhort him to make what restitution was in his power since otherwise his repentance would remain imperfect and small hope could be given him of his meeting with forgiveness from an offended God. At first this seemed to have little or no weight with the criminal. He expressed himself very civilly when spoken to on the head but peremptorily refused to do anything towards making satisfaction to Mrs. Dawson unless she could do something for him or the woman. But when death approached nearer he began to relent sent for the ordinary and told him that as for the plate it was indeed out of his power. But for that the papers he had caused them to be brought in a box which he delivered and desired they might be kept carefully because he was sensible that they were of great value to their owner. At the place of execution he seemed desirous only of clearing his wife from any imputation of being concerned with him in any of his villainies and then suffered with must resignation on the 11th of September 1728 being near 38 years of age. End of Chapter 8. Recording by Jen McEwen Chapter 9 of Lives of the Most Remarkable Criminals Volume 3. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Lives of the Most Remarkable Criminals Volume 3 by Arthur L. Hayward Chapter 9. The Lives of Griffith Owen, Samuel Harris, and Thomas Medlin, Highwaymen, and Footpads. Griffith Owen, the first of these unhappy criminals, was the son of very honest parents who had given him a very good education and respect both of letters and religion. When he was grown up they put him out apprentice to a butcher in Newgate Market with whom he served his time though not without committing many faults and neglecting his business in a very marked degree, addicting himself too much to out of company, the usual incitements to those crimes for the commission of which he afterward suffered. His companion, Harris, if Owen were to be believed, first proposed robbing as an expedient to the supply of their pockets, to which he too readily gave way, and having once ventured to attack he never suffered himself nor his companions to cool. For the space of about six weeks, keeping themselves still warm with liquor, they committed five or six robberies, for which at last they were all apprehended, and as they had been companions together in wickedness, so they shared also in imprisonment and death as the consequences of those offenses they had committed. Samuel Harris, though he had received a very tolerable education as to reading and writing, yet he never applied himself to any business, but served bricklayers as a laborer, in company with his fellow sufferer Medlin. But having been all his life addicted to lust and wickedness, he proposed robbing to his companions as the most feasible method of getting money wherewith to support their debauches and the strumpets who used to partake with them at their houses of resort. He confirmed what Owen had said and acknowledged that during the time they continued their robberies, never any people in the world led more profligate and more uneasy lives than they did, being always engaged in a continual circle of drunkenness, violence, and hordom, while their minds were continually agitated with the fear of being apprehended, so that they never enjoyed peace or quiet from the time of their betaking themselves to this course of life unto the day of their apprehension and coming to the gallows. Thomas Medlin was born more meanly than either of his companions, and had so little care taking of him and his youth that he could neither read nor write. However, he applied himself to working hard as a laborer to the bricklayers, and got thereby for some time sufficient wherewith to maintain himself and his family. At last, giving himself over to drink, he minded little of what became of his wife and children, and falling unhappily about the same time into the acquaintance of the before-mentioned malefactor, Harris, he was easily seduced by him to become a partner in his crimes and addicted himself to the highway. It was but a very short space that they continued to exercise this, their illegal and infamous calling, for venturing to attack one Mr. Barker on the Wehr Road and not long after Dr. Edward Hulse. They were quickly apprehended for those facts, and after remaining some time in Newgate, were brought to their trials at the Old Bailey. There it was sworn by Mr. Barker that he observed them drinking at an alehouse in Tottingham, the very evening in which he was robbed, and that apprehending them to be loose and disorderly persons he took more than an ordinary notice of their faces, that about a mile from Edmonton Church they came up with him, and notwithstanding he told them he knew them, they pulled him off his horse and robbed him of five pounds and six pence. That returning the next day to the place where he was robbed, he found seven pence, which he supposed they had dropped in their hurry. On the second indictment it was disposed by one Mr. Hyatt that he had suspected the prisoners, from the description given by Mr. Barker and Dr. Hulse, to be the persons who had robbed them. He therefore apprehended them upon suspicion, and that Mr. Barker, as soon as he saw them, swore to their faces. Dr. Hulse disposed that they were the persons who robbed him of his watch and money, and that he had particularly marked Owen as having a scar on his face. Thomas Bennett, the doctor's coachman, swore that Owen was the man who got upon the coach box and beat him, and afterwards robbed his master, that not contented their whiff. They beat the witness again, knocked out one of his teeth, and broke his own whip about him. Henry Greenwood confirmed this account in general, but could not be positive to any of the faces except that of Owen. The jury, on this proof, without any long stay found them all guilty. While under sentence of death they all behaved themselves with as much penance and seeming sorrow for their offenses as ever was seen amongst persons in their condition, they attended as often as divine worship was celebrated in the chapel, and appeared very desirous of instructions as to those private prayers which they thought necessary to put up to God, when carried back to their several places of confinement. Harris seemed a little uneasy at the ordinary's remonstrating with him that he was more guilty than the rest, in as much as he first incited them to the falling into those wretched methods by which they brought shame and ruin upon themselves. He answered that there was little difference in their dispositions, having been all of them addicted for many years to the greatest wickedness which men could practice, that his companions were no less ready than he to fall upon such means as supporting themselves in sensual delights. As he avert this to their faces they did not contradict it, but seemed to take shame to themselves and to sorrow alike for the evils they had committed. They ended their lives at Tibern, on the 11th of September, 1728, with all the outward signs of true repentance, Owen being twenty, Harris twenty-nine, and Medlin thirty-nine years of age at the time of their execution. Footnote, Dr. Edward Hulse, an eminent Whig doctor who was later appointed physician to George II, he was created a baronet in seventeen thirty-nine. End of chapter nine. Recording by Luke Johnson The Lives of Peter Levy, John Featherby, Stephen Burnett, Alias Barnett, Alias Barnum, and Thomas Vox, street robbers, foot-pads, thieves, etc. In the course of these memoirs I have more than once remarked that a ridiculous spirit of vanglory is often the source of those religious mischiefs which are committed by those abandoned persons, who addict themselves to open robberies, and carry on, as it were, a declared war against mankind. Theft and repine made of some appear odd subjects for acquiring glory, and yet it is certain that many, especially of the younger criminals, have been chiefly instigated in their most daring attempts from a vain inclination to be much talked of, in order to which this seemed to them the shortest course. But these observations that I have made will be better illustrated from the following lives than they could have been in any other way. Peter Levy was descended from honest and reputable parents, who gave him a very good education, and afterwards bound him out apprentice to a silk weaver, but such as the perverse disposition of this unfortunate lad, such his love of gaming, and such his continual inclination to debauched company, that nothing better could be expected from him than what afterwards befell him. Yet his understanding was very tolerable, he did not want a sufficient share of wit, and in a word his capacity altogether might have enabled him to have lived very well, if his prodigious vices had not prevented it by hurrying him into misfortunes. It was remarkable in this criminal that his long habit of carrying the detestable trait of stealing, to which he incurred himself in every shape as much as possible, had given so odd a cast to his visage that it was impossible for a man to look him in the face without immediately guessing him to be a rogue. Yet while a boy, he had been so accustomed to confinement in the compter, especially in Wood Street, that he had contracted a friendship with all the under-officers in that prison, who treated him with great leniency as often as he came there. Picking pockets, sneaking goods out of shops, snatching them through windows, and such other petty facts, were the employments of his junior years. As he grew bigger he grew riper in all sorts of villainy, though never a fellow had worse luck in dishonest attempts, for he was always detected, and very frequently had gone through lesser punishments of the law, such as whipping and hard labor. At one time he lay four years in Newgate for a fine, and this finished the course of his villainous education, for from the time he got out he never ceased to practice robbing in the streets, and on the roads to the villages near London, till he and his companions fell into the hands of justice and went altogether to their last adventure at Tyburn. John Featherby, the second of these criminals, had received a greater share of education than any of the rest. His father had been a man of tolerable circumstances, and with great care provided that this fellow should not be ignorant of anything that might be necessary or convenient for him to know in that business for which he designed him, Viz, a coach-painter. But he did not live to see him put apprentice to it, which his mother afterwards took care to do, and consequently he had not the misfortune of seeing him live so scandalous a life, and die so shameful a death. His understanding was tolerable, but his behavior so rude, so boisterous and shocking, that he left no room even for that compassion to which all men are naturally prone when they see persons under sentence of death. The desire of appearing brave and making the figure of a hero in low life was in all probability the occasion of his acting so odd a part, and as he was generally looked upon as their thief by those unfortunate creatures who were of his gang, possibly he put on this ferocity in his manner in order to support his authority, and preserve that respect and superiority of which these riches are observed to be inexpressibly fond. Stephen Burnett, Alias Barnett, Alias Barnham, which was his true name, was a child when he died, and a thief almost from his cradle. His parents, who were people of worth, sent him to school with a design, doubtless, that he should have acquired some good there, but Stephen made use of that time to visit a master of his own choosing. The celebrated Mr. Jonathan Wilde, at whose levy he was a pretty constant attendant and while an infant he was a most assiduous companion and assistant to the famous blue skin. My readers may be perhaps inquisitive how an infant of eight years old could in any way assist a person of blue skin's profession. For their information, then, perhaps for their security, I must inform them that while blue skin and one of his companions bought a pair of stockings, or two or three pairs of gloves in a large shop, Stephen used to creep on all fours under the counter, and march off with goods perhaps to the value of ten, twelve, or twenty pounds. But alas, he was not the youngest of Mr. Wilde's scholars. I myself have seen a boy of six years old tried at the Old Bailey for stealing the rings of an oyster woman's fingers as she sat asleep by her tub, and after his being acquitted by the compassion of the jury, Jonathan took him from the bar, and carrying him back upon the leads, lifted him up in his arms, and turning to the spectator said, Here's a cock of the game for you of my own breeding up. But to return to Barnham, his friends no sooner found out the villainy of his inclinations, but they took all methods imaginable to wean him from his vices. They corrected him severely. They offered him any encouragements on his showing the least visible sign of amendment. They put him to seven civil trades upon liking. But all this was to no purpose. Nothing could persuade him to forsake his old trade, which following with indefatigable industry, he made a shift to reach the gallows of an old offender, at almost nineteen years of age. After he, Featherby, Vox, and Levy became acquainted, they suffered no time to be lost in perpetuating such facts as were most likely to supply them with money, roving abroad almost every night, in quest of adventures and returning very seldom without some considerable prey. Perhaps my readers may be inquisitive as to what became of all this money. Why, really, it was spent in drink, gaming, and in horrors, three articles which ran so high amongst these night errands in low life that Barnum and two more found a way to lavish a hundred and twenty pounds on them in three weeks. On one of his nocturnal expeditions, in company with Levy and Featherby, they robbed one Mr. Brown, in Dean's Court by St. Paul's Churchyard, of a gold watch and thirteen guineas, upon which the gentleman thought fit. It seems to offer in the newspapers a reward of five guineas for restoring the watch. Not many days after, he received a penny-post epistle from Mr. Barnum, in which he was told that if he came to a field near Sadler's Wells, and brought the promised reward of five guineas along with him, he should be there to meet a single person at half an hour after six precisely, who would restore him his watch without doing him any injury whatsoever. At the time appointed the gentleman went thither, found Barnum walking alone, well dressed with a laced hat on, who immediately came up to him, and receiving the five guineas presented him with his watch. Mr. Brown, having no more to do with him, immediately turned round about to go back, upon which Barnum produced a pistol ready cocked from under his coat. "'You see,' says he, "'it is in my power to rob you again, but I scorn to break my word of honour. Levy and Featherby, it seems, were posted pretty near, and as they all declared, intended to have shot the gentleman if he had brought anybody with him, or had made the least opposition or noise.' At Kingston's assays he was tried for a robbery committed in Surrey, but for want of sufficient evidence was acquitted, upon which he returned immediately to his old trade. About three months before he was apprehended for the last time, he came into Little Britain, the place where he was born, produced a silver spoon and fifteen shillings in money, declared it to be the effects of that day's exploits, and then climbing up a lamppost, thrust his head through the iron circle in which in winter time the lamp is placed, declaring to the neighbours who called him and advised him to reform, that within three months he would do something that should bring him to be hanged in the same place. As to the time he was not mistaken, though he was a little out as to the manner and place of his execution, and we mention this fact only to show the amazing wickedness of so young a man, of which we shall hereafter have occasion to say a great deal more. Thomas Fox was a fellow of no education at all. Whether he had been bred to any employment or not, I am not able to say. But that which he followed was sweeping of chimneys, the prophets of which he eked out with thefts, in which he continued undiscovered for a long space of time. In himself he was a fellow void of almost every good quality, disliked even by his own companions for his brutal behaviour, which he still kept up even under his misfortunes, and ceased not to behave with an obstinate perverseness even to the last moment of his life. The fact for which all this gang suffered was for robbing one Mr. Clark at the corner of Water Lane in Fleet Street, now called White Friars Street, which at their trial was proved upon them by witnesses in the following manner. Mr. Clark, the prosecutor, disposed that going in a coach from St. Paul's to the inner temple, he saw three or four persons dogging it from a toy shop at the corner of St. Paul's churchyard, that he scarce lost sight of them until he came to the end of Water Lane, where Barnham and Fox stopped the coach. He then looked out and saw them very plainly. Levy stepped into the coach, put his hand into his pocket, and tore his britches down in taking out the things. Featherby all the while holding a pistol to his breast, the things they took from him were a silver watch, value, four pounds, a diamond ring, three pounds, eleven shillings in silver and fourteen guineas. Then the confessions of Levy and Barnham before Sir William Billers, Knight and Alderman, were read, in which they owned that they committed the robbery on Mr. Clark, and that Featherby and Fox assisted therein. Sir William also attested that they made the said confession freely without any promises made, or being threatened in case of refusal. Thomas would swore that going to apprehend Featherby and one cable, in a house in Blue Boar's Head Alley, in Barbican, they both snapped their pistols at him, but that neither of them went off. Mary Fox, wife of the prisoner Thomas Fox, having first excused herself from giving any testimony against her husband, deposed that she saw the rest of the prisoners commit the robbery at the end of Water Lane, and that Levy got into the coach, upon which evidence taken altogether the jury found them guilty without going out of the court. When they received sentence of death, they all behaved themselves very audaciously, except Levy, who appeared pentant, and excused himself of the misbehavior he had been guilty of at his trial. During the time they remained under sentence of death at Newgate, this last mentioned criminal, Levy, appeared truly sensible of that miserable state in which he was. He attended the public devotion at Chapel with great seriousness, except when his audacious companions pulled him and disturbed him, when he would sometimes smile. As he had passed through the former part of his life without thought or reflection, so he seemed now awakened all at once to adjust sense of his sins. In a word, he did everything which so short a space could admit of, to convince those who saw him that he minded only the great business he had to do. Viz, the making of his peace with that God who he had so much offended. Featherby, as has been said, persisted in that brutal behavior for which he had been remarkable amongst his gang. At Chapel he disturbed the congregation by throwing sticks at a gentleman, laughing and talking to his companions, sometimes insulting and beating those who were near him, and in fine encouraged the rest of his companions to behave in such a manner that the keepers were reduced to the necessity of causing them all four to be chained and nailed down in the old condemned hold, for fear of their committing some murder or other before they died, which they often threatened they would do. There they continued for three or four days, until upon the promise of amendment and behaving better for the future, they were released, brought back again to their respective cells, and at times of public devotion up to Chapel. When the death warrant came down, Featherby pretended to be much more moved than could be expected, seemed in dreadful agonies at the remembrance of his former wicked and impudent behavior, prayed with great fervency, and said he hoped that God would yet have mercy on him. Barnham continued unmoved to the last. He did indeed abstain from ill-language and disturbing people at Chapel, but employed his time in his cell in composing a song to celebrate the glorious actions of himself and his companions. This was work he very much valued himself upon, and sending for the person who usually prints the dying speeches. He desired it might be inserted, but it containing incitements to their companions to go on in the same trade. In the strongest terms he was capable of framing them in. His design was frustrated, and they were not published. Vox behaved a little more civilly after their being stapled down in the condemned hold, but throughout the time of his confinement appeared to be very obstinate and an incorrigible fellow. Levy was twenty-four years old, Featherby about the same age. Barnham near nineteen, and Vox twenty-three, at the time they suffered, being on the eleventh of November seventeen twenty-eight, in company with nine other malefactors. A paper written by Featherby's own hand, which he delivered to the ordinary of Newgate in the chapel immediately before they went to be executed. As it is my sad misfortune to come to this untimely end, I think at my duty to acknowledge the justice of all mighty God, and that of my country, and I humbly implore pardon of the divine goodness, and forgiveness of all that I have injured, or in any ways offended. It is a sad reflection upon my spirit that I have had the blessing and advantage of honest and pious parents, whose tender care provided for my education, so that I might have lived to God's glory, their comfort and my own lasting felicity. But I take shame to myself, and humbly acknowledge that by the evil ways I have of late followed I neglected my duty to my great Creator, and brought grief to my dear and tender mother. And having thus far, and much more, offended against God and man, I hope and earnestly desire that no prudent nor charitable person will reflect upon my good mother, or any other friend or relation for my shameful end.