Chapter III: Part 3

The gentleman quitted his horse, and at the same moment seized the pistol which was placed at his throat by the robber, and, presenting it to the latter, told him to expect death if he did not surrender himself. His companion having fled, Hawes was now as terrified as he had been insolent, and made no opposition; and the driver of a cart coming up just at the moment, he was easily made prisoner, conveyed to London, and committed to Newgate. When the sessions came on, and he was brought to the bar, he refused to plead to his indictment, alleging as a reason for so doing, that he would die, as he had lived, like a gentleman:--"The people," said he, "who apprehended me, seized a suit of fine clothes, which I intended to have gone to the gallows in; and unless they are returned, I will not plead; for no one shall say that I was hanged in a dirty shirt and ragged coat."

On this, sentence was pronounced that he should be pressed to death; whereupon he was taken from the Court, and, being laid on his back, sustained a load of two hundred and fifty pounds' weight about seven minutes; but, unable any longer to bear the pain, he entreated he might be conducted back to the Court. He then pleaded not guilty; but the evidence against him being conclusive, he was convicted, and sentenced to die.

He was executed at Tyburn on the 22nd of December, 1721.

The subject of torture may not be inaptly illustrated by an account given by Stedman of a scene witnessed by him at Surinam, when a young man, a free negro, was tortured for the murder of the overseer of the estate of Altona in the Para Creek. He says, "This man having stolen a sheep to entertain a favourite young woman, the overseer, who burned with jealousy, had determined to see him hanged; to prevent which, the negro shot him dead among the sugar-canes. For these offences, of course, he was sentenced to be broken alive upon the rack, without the benefit of the _coup de grace_, or mercy-stroke. Informed of the dreadful sentence, he composedly laid himself down upon his back on a strong cross, on which, with his arms and legs extended, he was fastened by ropes. The executioner, also a black man, having now with a hatchet chopped off his left hand, next took up a heavy iron bar, with which, by repeated blows, he broke his bones to shivers, till the marrow, blood, and splinters flew about the field; but the prisoner never uttered a groan nor a sigh! The ropes being next unlashed, I imagined him dead, and felt happy; till the magistrates stirring to depart, he writhed himself from the cross, when he fell on the grass, and damned them all as a set of barbarous rascals. At the same time, removing his right hand by the help of his teeth, he rested his head on part of the timber, and asked the by-standers for a pipe of tobacco, which was infamously answered by kicking and spitting on him, till I, with some American seamen, thought proper to prevent it. He then begged his head might be chopped off, but to no purpose. At last, seeing no end to his misery, he declared, 'that though he had deserved death, he had not expected to die so many deaths: however,' said he, 'you Christians have missed your aim at last, and I now care not, were I to remain thus one month longer.' After which he sung two extempore songs with a clear voice; the subjects of which were to bid adieu to his living friends, and to acquaint his deceased relations that in a very little time he should be with them, to enjoy their company for ever in a better place. This done, he calmly entered into conversation with some gentlemen concerning his trial, relating every particular with uncommon tranquillity. 'But,' said he abruptly, 'by the sun it must be eight o'clock, and by any longer discourse I should be sorry to be the cause of your losing your breakfast.' Then casting his eyes on a Jew, whose name was Deveries, 'Apropos, sir,' said he, 'won't you please to pay me the ten shillings you owe me?' 'For what to do?' 'To buy meat and drink, to be sure: don't you perceive I'm to be kept alive?' Which speech, on seeing the Jew stare like a fool, the mangled wretch accompanied with a loud and hearty laugh. Next, observing the soldier that stood sentinel over him biting occasionally a piece of dry bread, he asked him how it came to pass that he, a _white man_, should have no meat to eat along with it. 'Because I am not so rich,' answered the soldier. 'Then I will make you a present, sir,' said the negro. 'First pick my hand that was chopped off, clean to the bones; next begin to devour my body till you are glutted; when you will have both bread and meat, as best becomes you:' which piece of humour was followed by a second laugh. And thus he continued until I left him, which was about three hours after the dreadful execution."

Subsequently, on proceeding to the spot, the writer discovered that after the poor wretch had lived thus more than six hours, he was knocked on the head by the commiserating sentinel; and that having been raised upon a gallows, the vultures were busy picking out the eyes of the mangled corpse, in the skull of which was clearly discernible the mark of the soldier's musket.

CAPTAIN JOHN MASSEY.

EXECUTED FOR PIRACY.

Captain Massey was the son of a gentleman of fortune, who gave him an excellent education. When young, he grew weary of home; and his father having procured him a commission in the army, he served with great credit as lieutenant under the command of the Duke of Marlborough, during the wars in Flanders, in the reign of Queen Anne. After this he went with his regiment to Ireland, and at length got appointed to the rank of lieutenant and engineer to the Royal African Company, and sailed in one of their ships to direct the building of a fort. The ship being ill supplied with provisions, the sufferings of the crew were inexpressibly great. Those who lived to get on shore drank so greedily of the fresh water, that they were thrown into fluxes, which destroyed them so rapidly, that only Captain Massey and a very few of his people were still alive. These, being totally unable to build a fort, and seeing no prospect of relief, began to abandon themselves to despair; but at this time a vessel happening to come near the shore, they made signals of distress, on which a boat was sent off to their assistance.

They were no sooner on board than they found the vessel was a pirate; and, distressed as they had been, they too hastily engaged in their lawless plan, rather than run the hazard of perishing on shore. Sailing from hence, they took several prizes; and at length on the ship reaching Jamaica, Mr. Massey seized the first opportunity of deserting; and repairing to the governor, he gave such information, that the crew of the pirate vessel were taken into custody, convicted, and hanged. Massey might have been provided for by the governor, who treated him with singular respect, on account of his services to the public; but he declined his generous offers, through an anxiety to visit his native country. On his sailing for England, the governor gave him recommendatory letters to the lords of the admiralty; but, astonishing as it may seem, instead of his being caressed, he was taken into custody, and committed till a session of admiralty was held for his trial, when he pleaded guilty, and received sentence of death.

His sentence was subsequently carried out, although it may readily be supposed that that due attention was scarcely given to the case which the interests of the prisoner demanded.

ARUNDEL COOKE, ESQ. AND JOHN WOODBURNE.

EXECUTED FOR CUTTING AND MAIMING.

The prosecution of these offenders took place under the provisions of a statute, passed in the reign of Charles the Second, commonly called "Sir John Coventry's Act," the origin of which we have elsewhere described, and which has since been followed by an enactment, more extensive in its operation, called "Lord Ellenborough's Act."

Mr. Cooke, who by virtue of his profession as a barrister was entitled to the rank of esquire, was born at Bury St. Edmunds, in Suffolk, and was a man of considerable fortune at the time of his execution. Woodburne, his companion in crime, was a labouring man in his service, who, having a family of six children, was induced to join in the commission of the crime, of which he was found guilty, upon the promise of the payment to him of 100_l._ for his aid in the diabolical plan. Mr. Cooke, it appears, was married to the daughter of Mr. Crisp, the victim of his attack. The latter was a gentleman of very large property, and of infirm habit of body, and having made his will in favour of his son-in-law, the latter became anxious to possess the estate, and determined, by murdering the old gentleman, to secure its immediate transfer to himself. For this purpose, he procured the co-operation of Woodburne on the terms which we have already mentioned, and Christmas evening of the year 1721 was fixed upon for the perpetration of the intended murder. Mr. Crisp was to dine with his son-in-law on that day, and Woodburne was directed to lie in wait in the churchyard, which lay between the houses of the old gentleman and his son-in-law, behind a tomb-stone, in the evening, when, at a given signal, he was to fall upon and kill the former. The time arrived when Mr. Crisp was to depart, and upon his going out, Mr. Cooke followed him, and then aided his assistant in a most violent attack upon his father-in-law. The old man was left for dead, but in spite of the wounds which he had received, he crawled back to his daughter, to whom he communicated his suspicions, that her husband was the originator of the murderous attempt which had been made.

Woodburne was impeached by his sudden disappearance; and the affair having created a great deal of excitement in the neighbourhood, he was followed and secured, and then he exposed the enormity of his offence, by confessing the whole of the circumstances attending its commission. Mr. Cooke was also taken into custody, and a bill of indictment was preferred at the ensuing assizes, at Bury St. Edmunds, upon which the two prisoners were tried and found guilty.

Upon their being called up to receive sentence of death, Cooke desired to be heard: and the court complying with his request, he urged that "judgment could not pass on the verdict, because the act of parliament simply mentions an intention to maim or deface, whereas he was firmly resolved to have committed murder." He quoted several law cases in favour of the arguments he had advanced, and hoped that judgment might be respited till the opinion of the twelve judges could be taken on the case.

Lord Chief Justice King, however, who presided on this occasion, declared that he could not admit the force of Mr. Cooke's plea, consistently with his own oath as a judge: "for (said he) it would establish a principle in the law inconsistent with the first dictates of natural reason, as the greatest villain might, when convicted of a smaller offence, plead that the judgment must be arrested, because he intended to commit a greater. In the present instance therefore judgment cannot be arrested, as the intention is naturally implied when the crime is actually committed."

Sentence of death was then passed, and the prisoners were left for execution. After condemnation, the unhappy man Woodburne exhibited signs of the most sincere penitence; but his wretched tempter to crime conducted himself with unbecoming reserve and moroseness, steadily denying his guilt, and employing his most strenuous exertions to procure a pardon.

The 3d April, 1722, was at length fixed for the execution of the sentence, and Cook was hanged at four in the morning of that day, in obedience to a request which he made, in order that he should not be exposed to the public gaze; while Woodburne was turned off, in the afternoon, on the same gallows. The execution took place at Bury St. Edmunds, the crime having been committed within a mile of that place.

CHRISTOPHER LAYER, ESQ.

EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.

Mr. Layer was a barrister of considerable standing and reputation, at the time when he was convicted and executed on a charge of being the projector of a scheme for the destruction of the king, and the subversion of the government, which had for its object the elevation of the Pretender to the throne of England.

Numerous were the plots which had been laid for the same purpose, and frequent were the proceedings which had been had upon complaints laid before the various courts of criminal justice in the kingdom, since the year 1715, when the rebellion first broke out; but the plan laid by Mr. Layer was one of those which gained the greatest degree of notoriety. This infatuated man had received a liberal education, and was a member of the society of the Inner Temple; but being impressed with the possibility of the success of a scheme for the dethronement of the existing monarch, and the elevation of the Pretender to the rank, to which it was contended that he was entitled, he made a journey to Rome, in order to confer with that prince upon the propriety of putting his design into execution, promising that he would effect so secret a revolution in England, that no person in authority should be apprised of the scheme until it had been actually completed. Having procured the concurrence of the prince, he instantly returned to London, and proceeded to the completion of his preparations His plan was to hire an assassin to murder the king on his return from Kensington; and, this being done, the other parties engaged in the plot were to seize the guards; and the Prince of Wales and his children, and the great officers of state, were to be secured, and confined during the confusion that such an event would naturally produce.

Mr. Layer having settled a correspondence with several Roman Catholics, non-jurors, and other persons disaffected to the government, he engaged a small number of disbanded soldiers, who were to be the principal actors in the intended tragedy. A meeting of the whole of the partisans having, however, been held at Stratford, they talked so loudly of the plot, that their designs were suspected, and information was conveyed to the authorities; upon which Mr. Layer was taken into custody, under a secretary of state's warrant, and conveyed to the house of a king's messenger for security. His chambers being searched, papers were found, the contents of which sufficiently indicated his intentions, and witnesses as to repeated declarations on his part, in reference to the rebellion, having been discovered in the persons of two women, who were living under his protection, it was determined that a prosecution should be instantly commenced against him. But it was not until he had nearly given his jailers the slip, that this determination was carried into execution with effect; for it appears that the prisoner became convinced of the practicability of an escape from the room where he was confined, through an ale-house, which was situated at the back of the messenger's house, and resolved to make the attempt to procure his liberty. He therefore formed a rope of his blanket, and, dropping from the window of his apartment, he fell into the yard below, unscathed; but in his descent, he overset a bottle-rack, and from the noise which was caused, the family of the house was disturbed. Mr. Layer managed, nevertheless, to gain the street in the confusion which prevailed; but being instantly pursued by officers, he was traced to have taken a boat at the Horse Ferry, Westminster, from thence to St. George's Fields; and he was at length overtaken at Newington Butts. On the following day he was committed to Newgate; and a Grand Jury of the county of Essex having found a true bill against him for high treason, his trial came on before Chief Justice Pratt, and the other judges of the Court of King's Bench, in the month of January 1723, when, after an inquiry, which lasted sixteen hours, he was found guilty, and sentenced to death in the customary manner.

As he had some important affairs to settle, from the nature of his profession, the court did not order his execution till more than two months after he had been condemned; and the king repeatedly reprieved him, to prevent his clients being sufferers by his affairs being left in a state of confusion.

After conviction, Mr. Layer was committed to the Tower; and at length the sheriffs of London and Middlesex received a warrant to execute the sentence of the law. He was carried to Tyburn on a sledge, on the 15th March 1723, to be hanged, being dressed in a suit of black, full trimmed, and wearing a tie-wig. At the place of execution he was assisted in his devotions by a nonjuring clergyman; and when these were ended, he spoke to the surrounding multitude, declaring that he deemed King James (so he called the Pretender) his lawful sovereign. He said that King George was a usurper, and that damnation would be the fate of those who supported his government. He insisted that the nation would never be in a state of peace till the Pretender was restored, and therefore advised the people to take up arms in his behalf. He professed himself willing to die for the cause, and expressed great hopes that Providence would eventually support the right heir to the throne. His body having been suspended during the accustomed time, it was quartered, and the head was afterwards exposed on Temple Bar. Among others concerned in this strange scheme was Lord Grey, an ancient nobleman of the Roman Catholic religion, who died a prisoner in the Tower, before the necessary legal proceedings against him could take place.

PHILIP ROACH,

EXECUTED FOR PIRACY AND MURDER.

This fellow was a native of Ireland, and having, during his youth, followed a seafaring life, he was advanced to the position of first mate, on board a West-Indiaman, which sailed to and from Barbadoes. Having, however, become acquainted with a fisherman named Neale, who hinted to him that large sums of money might be acquired by insuring ships, and then causing them to be sunk, to defraud the insurers, he was wicked enough to listen to this horrid idea; and, being recommended to a gentleman who had a ship bound to Cape Breton, he got a station on board, next in command to the captain, by whom he was entrusted with the management of the vessel.

On the voyage, it would appear that he would have abstained from carrying out his diabolical plan; but having brought some Irishmen on board with him, they persisted in pursuing their original design, or in demanding that the vessel should be seized. Accordingly, one night, when the captain and most of the crew were asleep, Roach gave orders to two of the seamen to furl the sails; which being immediately done, the poor fellows no sooner descended on the deck, than Roach and his associates murdered them, and threw them overboard. At this instant a man and a boy at the yard-arm, observing what passed, and dreading a similar fate, hurried towards the topmast-head, when one of the Irishmen, named Cullen, followed them, and, seizing the boy, threw him into the sea. The man, thinking to effect at least a present escape, descended to the main-deck; but he was instantly butchered, and committed to the deep. The noise occasioned by these transactions had alarmed the sailors below, and they hurried up with all possible expedition; but were severally seized and murdered as fast as they came on deck, and were thrown into the sea. At length the master and mate came on the quarter-deck; but they were doomed to share the same fate as their unhappy shipmates.

These execrable murders being perpetrated, the murderers determined to commence pirates, and that Roach should be the captain, as the reward of his superior villany.

They had intended to sail up the Gulf of St. Lawrence; but as they were within a few days' voyage of the Bristol Channel, when the bloody tragedy was acted, and found themselves short of provisions, they put into Portsmouth; and, giving the vessel a fictitious name, they painted her afresh, and then sailed for Rotterdam. At this city they disposed of their cargo, and took in a fresh one; and being unknown, an English gentleman, named Annesley, shipped considerable property on board, and took his passage with them for the port of London; but the villains threw this unfortunate gentleman overboard, after they had been only one day at sea. When the ship arrived in the river Thames, Mr. Annesley's friends made inquiry after him, in consequence of his having sent letters to England, describing the ship in which he proposed to embark; but Roach denied any knowledge of the gentleman, and even disclaimed his own name. Notwithstanding his confident assertions, it was rightly presumed who he was, and a letter which he sent to his wife being stopped, he was taken into custody, and carried before the secretary of state for examination. While there, having denied that he was the person he was taken to be, his intercepted letter was shown to him; on which he instantly confessed his crimes, and was committed to take his trial. He was subsequently hanged at Execution Dock, on the 5th of August, 1723.

JOSEPH BLAKE, _alias_ BLUESKIN,

EXECUTED FOR HOUSEBREAKING.

At about this time London and its vicinity were infested by a gang of villains of the most desperate character, of whom this criminal was the captain. With his name are associated those of offenders whose exploits, though they may be better known, were not more daring or more villanous. The notorious Jonathan Wild, whose system of atrocity will be found to be exposed in the notice given hereafter of his life and death, and his no less notorious victim and coadjutor, Jack Sheppard, were both intimately connected with the proceedings of Blake; while others of equal celebrity filled up the number of his followers. The Mint in Southwark was, during the early part of the life of these offenders, a place which, being by a species of charter freed from the intrusion of the bailiffs, formed an admirable hiding-place and retreat for criminals, as well as debtors. A system of watch and ward was maintained among them, and, like the Alsatia of Sir Walter Scott's admirable novel of "The Fortunes of Nigel," which is now known by the name of Whitefriars, its privacy was seldom intruded upon by the appearance of the officers of justice. The salutary laws of the commencement of the reign of the Hanover family, however, soon caused these dens of infamy to be rooted out; and the districts referred to are now known only by repute, as having been privileged in the manner which has been described.

To return to the subject of our present narrative: he was a native of London, and having been sent to school at the age of six years, he displayed more intelligence in acquiring a proficiency in the various arts of roguery, than in becoming acquainted with those points of decent instruction, with which his parents desired he should make himself intimate. While at school, he formed an acquaintance with a lad of his own age, named Blewitt, who afterwards, with himself, became a member of Jonathan Wild's gang. No sooner had they left school, than they started in life as pickpockets; and our hero, before he attained the age of fifteen years, had been in half the prisons in the metropolis. From this they turned street robbers; and forming connexions with others, their proceedings became notorious, and they were apprehended. Blake, however, was admitted evidence against his companions, who were convicted; and having by that means obtained his own acquittal, he claimed a part of the reward offered by government. He was informed by the Court, that his demand could not be granted, because he was not a voluntary evidence; since, so far from having surrendered, he had made an obstinate resistance, and was much wounded before he was taken; and instead of rewarding him, they ordered him to find security for his good behaviour, or to be transported. Not being able to give the requisite bail, he was lodged in Wood-street Compter, and there he remained for a considerable period; during which his patron, Wild, allowed him three and sixpence per week. At length he prevailed upon two gardeners to enter into the necessary sureties; and their recognisance having been taken by Sir John Fryer, for his good behaviour, for seven years, he once more regained his liberty. This object was, however, no sooner attained, than he was concerned in several robberies with Jack Sheppard; and they at length committed that offence for which Blueskin was executed. We have already said that he had become notorious for the daring which he displayed, and the frequency of his attacks upon the property of others; and he had become no less celebrated among his companions, who had favoured him with the appellation of Blueskin, from the darkness of his complexion, and had besides honoured him by dubbing him captain.

At the October sessions of the Old Bailey, 1723, he was indicted under the name of Joseph Blake, _alias_ Blueskin, for breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William Kneebone, in St. Clement's Church-yard, and stealing one hundred and eight yards of woollen cloth, value thirty-six pounds, and other property. It was sworn by the prosecutor, that the entry was effected by cutting the bars of his cellar-window, and by subsequently breaking open the cellar-door, which had been bolted and padlocked; and that afterwards, on his going to Jonathan Wild, and acquainting him with what had occured, he was conducted to Blake's lodgings, for the purpose of procuring his apprehension. The prisoner refusing to open the door, Quilt Arnold, one of Wild's men, broke it open. On this Blake drew a penknife, and swore that he would kill the first man that entered; in answer to which Arnold said, "Then I am the first man, and Mr. Wild is not far behind; and if you don't deliver your penknife immediately, I will chop your arm off." Hereupon the prisoner dropped the knife; and Wild entering, he was taken into custody.

It further appeared, that as the parties were conveying Blake to Newgate, they came by the house of the prosecutor; on which Wild said to the prisoner, "There's the ken;" and the latter replied, "Say no more of that, Mr. Wild, for I know I am a dead man; but what I fear is, that I shall afterwards be carried to Surgeons' Hall, and anatomised;" to which Wild replied, "No, I'll take care to prevent that, for I'll give you a coffin." William Field, an accomplice, who was evidence on the trial, swore that the robbery was committed by Blake, Sheppard, and himself; and the jury brought in a verdict of guilty.

As soon as the verdict was given, Blake addressed the Court in the following terms:--"On Wednesday morning last, Jonathan Wild said to Simon Jacobs (then a prisoner), "I believe you will not bring forty pounds this time (alluding to the reward paid by Government); I wish Joe (meaning me) was in your case; but I'll do my endeavour to bring you off as a single felon." And then turning to me, he said, "I believe you must die--I'll send you a good book or two, and provide you a coffin, and you shall not be anatomised."

The prisoner having been convicted, it was impossible that this revelation of the circumstances, under which he was impeached could be noticed; but subsequent discoveries distinctly showed that Wild's system was precisely that which was pointed out; namely, to lead on those who chose to submit themselves to his guidance, to the full extent to which they could go, so as to be useful to him; and then to deliver them over to justice for the offences in which he had been the prime mover, securing to himself the reward payable upon their conviction. His position screened him from punishment, while his power ensured the sacrifice of the victims, who had so long been his slaves. It appears that Wild was near meeting his end in this case. He was to have given evidence against Blake, but going to visit him in the bail-dock, previous to his trial, the latter suddenly drew a clasped penknife, with which he cut Jonathan's throat. The knife was blunt, and the wound, though dangerous, did not prove mortal; but the informer was prevented from giving the evidence which had been expected from him. While under sentence of death, Blake did not show a concern proportioned to his calamitous situation. When asked if he was advised to commit the violence on Wild, he said No; but that a sudden thought entered his mind: had it been premeditated, he would have provided a knife, which would have cut off his head at once. On the nearer approach of death he appeared still less concerned; and it was thought that his mind was chiefly bent on meditating means of escaping: but seeing no prospect of getting away, he took to drinking, which he continued to the day of his death; and he was observed to be intoxicated, even while he was under the gallows.

He was executed at Tyburn on the 11th of November, 1723.

JOHN SHEPPARD.

EXECUTED FOR HOUSE-BREAKING.

The prisoner, whose name heads this article, was a companion and fellow in crime to the notorious Blueskin. The name of Jack Sheppard is one which needs no introduction. His exploits are so notorious, that nothing more is necessary than to recount them. Sheppard was born in Spitalfields, in the year 1702; his father was a carpenter and bore the character of an honest man; but dying when his son was yet young, he, as well as a younger brother, Tom Sheppard, soon became remarkable for their disregard for honesty. Our hero was apprenticed to a carpenter in Wych-street, like his father, and during the first four years of his service he behaved with comparative respectability; but frequenting a public-house, called the Black Lion, in Drury Lane, he became acquainted with Blueskin, his subsequent companion in wickedness, and Wild, his betrayer, as well as with some women of abandoned character, who afterwards also became his coadjutors. His attentions were more particularly directed to one of them, named Elizabeth Lion, or Edgeworth Bess, as she was familiarly called from the town in which she was born, and while connected with her he frequently committed robberies at the various houses, in which he was employed as a workman. He was, however, also acquainted with a woman named Maggott, who persuaded him to commit his first robbery in the house of Mr. Bains, a piece-broker, in White Horse Yard, Drury Lane. He was at this time still resident at his master's house; and having stolen a piece of fustian, he took it home to his trunk, and then returning to the house which he was robbing, he took the bars out of the cellar-window, entered, and stole goods and money to the amount of 22_l._ which he carried to Maggott. As Sheppard did not go home that night, nor on the following day, his master suspected that he had made bad connexions, and searching his trunk found the piece of fustian that had been stolen; but Sheppard, hearing of this, broke open his master's house in the night, and carried off the fustian, lest it should be brought in evidence against him.

This matter received no further attention; but Sheppard's master seemed desirous still to favour him, and he remained some time longer in the family; but after associating himself with the worst of company, and frequently staying out the whole night, his master and he quarrelled, and the headstrong youth totally absconded in the last year of his apprenticeship.

Jack now worked as a journeyman carpenter, with a view to the easier commission of robbery; and being employed to assist in repairing the house of a gentleman in May Fair, he took an opportunity of carrying off a sum of money, a quantity of plate, some gold rings, and four suits of clothes. Not long after this Edgeworth Bess was apprehended, and lodged in the round-house of the parish of St. Giles's, where Sheppard went to visit her; but the beadle refusing to admit him, he knocked him down, broke open the door, and carried her off in triumph; an exploit which acquired him a high degree of credit among his companions. Tom Sheppard being now as deep in crime as his brother, he prevailed on Jack to lend him forty shillings, and take him as a partner in his robberies. The first act they committed in concert was the robbing of a public-house in Southwark, whence they carried off some money and wearing apparel; but Jack permitted his brother to reap the whole advantage of this booty. Not long after this, in conjunction with Edgeworth Bess, they broke open the shop of Mrs. Cook, a linen-draper in Clare Market, and carried off goods to the value of 55_l._; and in less than a fortnight afterwards, they stole some articles from the house of Mr. Phillips in Drury Lane. Tom Sheppard going to sell some of the goods stolen at Mrs. Cook's, was apprehended, and committed to Newgate, when, in the hope of being admitted an evidence, he impeached his brother and Bess; but they were sought for in vain.

At length James Sykes, otherwise called Hell-and-Fury, one of Sheppard's companions, meeting with him in St. Giles's, enticed him into a public-house, in the hope of receiving a reward for apprehending him; and while they were drinking Sykes sent for a constable, who took Jack into custody, and carried him before a magistrate. After a short examination, he was sent to St. Giles's round-house; but he broke through the roof of that place and made his escape in the night.

Within a short time after this, as Sheppard and an associate, named Benson, were crossing Leicester Fields, the latter endeavoured to pick a gentleman's pocket of his watch; but failing in the attempt, the gentleman called out "A pickpocket!" on which Sheppard was taken, and lodged in St. Ann's round-house, where he was visited by Edgeworth Bess, who was detained on suspicion of being one of his accomplices. On the following day they were carried before a magistrate, and some persons appearing who charged them with felonies, they were committed to the New Prison; but as they passed for husband and wife, they were permitted to lodge together in a room known by the name of the Newgate ward. They were here visited by many of their friends, Blueskin among the number; and being provided by them with the implements necessary to enable them to escape, Jack proceeded to secure the object which he had in view with that alacrity and energy which always characterised his actions. The removal of his fetters by means of a file was a work which occupied him a very few minutes, and he then, with the assistance of his companion, prepared for flight. The first obstacle which presented itself to them was in the shape of the heavy cross-bars which defended the aperture, by which light and air were admitted to their cell; but the application of their file soon removed the difficulty. There was then another point of a more dangerous character to overcome--the descent to the yard. Their window was twenty-five feet in height, and the only means of reaching the earth was by the employment of their blankets as ropes. These, however, would not enable them to touch the ground; but they found that there was a considerable distance for them to drop, even after they should have arrived at the extreme end of their cord. Gallantry induced our hero to give the first place to Bess, and she, having stripped off a portion of her clothes, so as to render herself lighter, descended in perfect safety. Jack followed, and they found some consolation in their being at least without the gaol, although there were yet the walls of the yard to climb. These were topped with a strong _chevaux de frise_ of iron, and were besides twenty-two feet high; but passing round them until they came to the great gates, the adventurous pair found means by the locks and bolts, by which they were held together, to surmount this, apparently the greatest difficulty of all, and they once again stood on the open ground outside the gaol. Bess having now re-assumed the clothes, of which she had denuded herself, in order that she might be the more agile in her escape, and which she had taken the precaution to throw over the wall before her, she and her paramour, once more enjoying the free air of liberty, marched into town.

It may readily be supposed that our hero's fame was increased by the report of this exploit, and all the thieves of St. Giles's soon became anxious to become his "palls." He did not hesitate to accept the companionship of two of them, named Grace, a cooper, and Lamb, an apprentice to a mathematical instrument maker; and at the instigation of the latter they committed a robbery in the house of his master, near St. Clement's church, to a considerable amount. The apprentice, however, was suspected, and secured, and being convicted, received sentence of transportation. Our hero meanwhile escaped, and joining with Blueskin, they did not fail in obtaining considerable booty. The mode of disposing of the plunder which they adopted was that of employing a fellow named Field to procure them a market; and having committed the robbery at Kneebone's, already mentioned in Blake's memoir, they lodged its proceeds in a stable, which they had hired, near the Horse Ferry, Westminster. Field was applied to, to find a customer for the property, and he promised to do so, and was as good as his word; for breaking open the stable, he carried off the goods himself, and then conveyed information of the robbery to Wild, alleging that he had been concerned in it. Blueskin, it will have been seen, was tried and convicted for the robbery, and suffered execution; and Sheppard having also been secured, he too was sentenced to death.

On Monday, 30th August, 1724, a warrant was sent for his execution, together with that of some other convicts, but neither his ingenuity nor his courage forsook him upon this, any more than upon any previous occasion. In the gaol of Newgate there was a hatch within the lodge in which the gaolers sat, which opened into a dark passage, from which there were a few steps leading to the hold containing the condemned cells. It was customary for the prisoners, on their friends coming to see them, to be conducted to this hatch; but any very close communication was prevented by the _surveillance_ of the gaolers, and by large iron spikes which surmounted the gate. The visits of Edgeworth Bess to her paramour were not unattended with advantage to the latter, for while in conversation, she took the opportunity of diverting the attention of the gaoler from her, while she delivered the necessary instruments to Sheppard to assist him in his contemplated escape. Subsequent visits enabled Jack to approach the wicket; and by constant filing he succeeded in placing one of the spikes in such a position as that it could be easily wrenched off. On the evening on which the warrant for his execution arrived, Mrs. Maggott, who was an immensely powerful woman, and Bess, going to visit him, he broke off the spike while the keepers were employed in drinking in the lodge, and thrusting his head and shoulders through the aperture, the women pulled him down, and smuggled him through the outer room, in which the gaolers were indulging themselves, into the street. This second escape not a little increased his notoriety; but an instant pursuit being made, he was compelled to lie close. Consulting with one Page, a butcher, it was determined that they should go to Warnden, in Northamptonshire, together where the relations of the latter lived; but on arriving there, being treated with indifference, they immediately retraced their steps to London.

On the night after their return, they were walking through Fleet-street, when they saw a watchmaker's shop attended only by a boy, and having passed it, they turned back, and Sheppard, driving his hand through the window, stole three watches, with which they made their escape. They subsequently retired to Finchley for security; but the gaolers of Newgate gaining information of their retreat, took Sheppard into custody, and once more conveyed him to "The Stone Jug."

Such steps were now taken as it was thought would be effectual to prevent his future escape. He was put into a strong room, called the Castle, handcuffed, loaded with a heavy pair of irons, and chained to a staple fixed in the floor. The curiosity of the public being greatly excited by his former escape, he was visited by great numbers of people of all ranks, and scarce any one left him without making him a present in money. Although he did not disdain these substantial proofs of public generosity, which enabled him to obtain those luxuries, which were not provided by the city authorities for his prison fare, his thoughts were constantly fixed on the means of again eluding his keepers; and the opportunity was not long wanting when he might carry his design into execution.

On the fourteenth of October, the sessions began at the Old Bailey, and the keepers being much engaged in attending the Court, he thought rightly, that they would have little time to visit him, and, therefore, that, the present juncture would be the most favourable to carry his plan into execution. About two o'clock in the afternoon of the following day, one of the keepers carried him his dinner; and having carefully examined his irons, and found them fast, he left him. Sheppard now immediately proceeded to the completion of the great work of his life, his second escape from Newgate; in describing which we shall extract from Mr. Ainsworth's work of "Jack Sheppard," in which that gentleman has given a lasting fame to our hero, and has founded a most interesting romance on the real circumstances of the life of this daring and extraordinary offender. He says, "Jack Sheppard's first object was to free himself from his handcuffs. This he accomplished by holding the chain that connected them firmly between his teeth, and, squeezing his fingers as closely together as possible, he succeeded in drawing his wrists through the manacles. He next twisted the heavy gyves round and round, and partly by main strength, partly by a dexterous and well-applied jerk, snapped asunder the central link, by which they were attached to the padlock. Taking off his stockings, he then drew up the basils as far as he was able, and tied the fragments of the broken chains to his legs, to prevent them from clanking, and impeding his future exertions." Upon a former attempt to make his way up the chimney, he had been impeded by an iron bar which was fixed across it, at a height of a few feet. To remove this obstacle, it was necessary to make an extensive breach in the wall. With the broken links of the chain, which served him in lieu of more efficient implements, he commenced operations just above the chimney-piece, and soon contrived to pick a hole in the plaster. He found the wall, as he suspected, solidly constructed of brick and stone; and, with the slight and inadequate tools which he possessed, it was a work of infinite skill and labour to get out a single brick. That done, however, he was well aware the rest would be comparatively easy; and as he threw the brick to the ground, he exclaimed triumphantly, "The first step is taken--the main difficulty is overcome."

"Animated by this trifling success, he proceeded with fresh ardour, and the rapidity of his progress was proclaimed by the heap of bricks, stones, and mortar, which before long covered the floor. At the expiration of an hour, by dint of unremitting exertion, he made so large a breach in the chimney that he could stand upright in it. He was now within a foot of the bar, and introducing himself into the hole, he speedily worked his way to it. Regardless of the risk he ran by some heavy stones dropping on his head or feet,--regardless also of the noise made by the falling rubbish, and of the imminent risk to which he was consequently exposed of being interrupted by some of the gaolers, should the sound reach their ears, he continued to pull down large masses of the wall, which he flung upon the floor of the cell. Having worked thus for another quarter of an hour, without being sensible of fatigue, though he was half stifled by the clouds of dust which his exertions raised, he had made a hole about three feet wide and six high, and uncovered the iron bar. Grasping it firmly with both hands, he quickly wrenched it from the stones in which it was mortised, and leapt to the ground. On examination it proved to be a flat bar of iron, nearly a yard in length, and more than an inch square. 'A capital instrument for my purpose,' thought Jack, shouldering it, 'and worth all the trouble I have had in procuring it.' While he was thus musing, he thought he heard the lock tried. A chill ran through his frame, and grasping the heavy weapon, with which chance had provided him, he prepared to strike down the first person who should enter his cell. After listening attentively for a short time without drawing breath, he became convinced that his apprehensions were groundless, and, greatly relieved, sat down upon the chair to rest himself and prepare for future efforts.

"Acquainted with every part of the gaol, Jack well knew that his only chance of effecting an escape must be by the roof. To reach it would be a most difficult undertaking. Still it was possible, and the difficulty was only a fresh incitement. The mere enumeration of the obstacles which existed would have deterred any spirit less daring than Sheppard's from even hazarding the attempt. Independently of other risks, and the chance of breaking his neck in the descent, he was aware that to reach the leads he should have to break open six of the strongest doors of the prison. Armed, however, with the implement he had so fortunately obtained, he did not despair of success. 'My name will not only be remembered as that of a robber,' he mused, 'but it shall be remembered as that of a bold one; and this night's achievement, if it does nothing else, shall prevent me from being classed with the common herd of depredators.' Roused by this reflection, he grasped the iron bar, which, when he sat down, he had laid upon his knees, and stepped quickly across the room. In doing so, he had to clamber up the immense heap of bricks and rubbish which now littered the floor, amounting almost to a cart-load, and reaching up nearly to the chimney-piece; and having once more got into the chimney, he climbed to a level with the ward above, and recommenced operations as vigorously as before. He was now aided with a powerful implement, with which he soon contrived to make a hole in the wall.

"The ward which Jack was endeavouring to break was called the Red-room from the circumstance of its walls having once been painted in that colour: all traces of which, however, had long since disappeared. Like the Castle, which it resembled in all respects, except that it was destitute even of a barrack bedstead, the Red-room was reserved for state prisoners, and had not been occupied since the year 1716, when the gaol was crowded by the Preston rebels. Having made a hole in the wall sufficiently large to pass through, Jack first tossed the bar into the room and then crept after it. As soon as he had gained his feet, he glanced round the bare black walls of the cell, and, oppressed by the misty close atmosphere, exclaimed, 'I will let a little fresh air into this dungeon: they say it has not been opened for eight years, but I won't be eight minutes in getting out.' In stepping across the room, some sharp point in the floor pierced his foot, and stooping to examine it, he found that the wound had been inflicted by a long rusty nail, which projected from the boards. Totally disregarding the pain, he picked up the nail, and reserved it for future use. Nor was he long in making it available. On examining the door, he found it secured by a large rusty lock, which he endeavoured to pick with the nail he had just acquired: but all his efforts proving ineffectual, he removed the plate that covered it with the bar, and with his fingers contrived to draw back the bolt.

"Opening the door, he then stepped into a dark narrow passage, leading, as he was well aware, to the Chapel. On the left there were doors communicating with the King's Bench Ward, and the Stone Ward, two large holds on the master debtors' side. But Jack was too well versed in the geography of the place to attempt either of them. Indeed, if he had been ignorant of it, the sound of voices, which he could faintly distinguish, would have served as a caution to him. Hurrying on, his progress was soon checked by a strong door, several inches in thickness and nearly as wide as the passage. Running his hand carefully over it in search of the lock, he perceived, to his dismay, that it was fastened on the other side. After several vain attempts to burst it open, he resolved, as a last alternative, to break through the wall in the part nearest the lock. This was a much more serious task than he anticipated. The wall was of considerable thickness, and built altogether of stone; and the noise he was compelled to make in using the heavy bar, which brought sparks with every splinter he struck off, was so great, that he feared it must be heard by the prisoners on the debtors' side. Heedless, however, of the consequences, he pursued his task. Half an hour's labour, during which he was obliged more than once to pause to regain breath, sufficed to make a hole wide enough to allow a passage for his arm up to the elbow. In this way he was able to force back a ponderous bolt from its socket; and to his unspeakable delight, found that the door instantly yielded. Once more cheered by daylight, he hastened forward and entered the Chapel.