Surrey, where they obtained a considerable booty in money and jewels.
They then concerted the robbery of Mr. Lawrence, of Edgeware, in
Middlesex, to the commission of which they proceeded on the 4th
February. They arrived at Edgeware at about five in the evening, and,
after obtaining some refreshment, they went to the scene of their
intended outrage at about seven o'clock, when Mr. Lawrence had just
discharged his workmen. Quitting their horses at the outer gate, they
seized a sheep-boy, whom they compelled to conduct them to the
house-door, under fear of death; and they there obliged him to procure
the opening of the door by knocking and calling to his fellow-servants.
As soon as the door was open, they all rushed in, and presenting
pistols, they seized Mr. Lawrence and his servant, threw a cloth over
their faces, and, taking the boy into another room, demanded what
fire-arms were in the house? He replied that there was only an old gun,
which they broke in pieces. They then bound Mr. Lawrence and his man,
and made them sit by the boy; and Turpin, searching the gentleman, took
from him a guinea, a Portugal piece, and some silver; but, not being
satisfied with this booty, they forced him to conduct them up stairs,
where they broke open a closet, and stole some money and plate. Being
dissatisfied, they swore that they would murder Mr. Lawrence if some
further booty was not produced, and one of them took a kettle of water
from the fire, and threw it over him; but it providentially happened not
to be hot enough to scald him. In the interim, the maid servant, who was
churning butter in the dairy, hearing a noise in the house, apprehended
some mischief, on which she blew out her candle to screen herself; but,
being found in the course of their search, one of the miscreants
compelled her to go up stairs, where he gratified his brutal passion by
force. They then robbed the house of all the valuable effects they could
find, locked the family into the parlour, threw the key into the garden,
and took their ill-gotten plunder to London.
The particulars of this atrocious robbery being represented to the king
a proclamation was issued, offering a reward of fifty guineas for the
apprehension of the offenders, and a pardon to any one of the parties
who should impeach his associates. This, however, was unsuccessful, and
the robbers continued their depredations as before. On the 7th February,
six of them assembled at the White Bear, in Drury Lane, and they agreed
to rob Mr. Francis, a farmer, at Marylebone. They accordingly proceeded
to his house forthwith, and having bound all the servants and Mr.
Francis in the stable, they rushed into the house, tied Mrs. Francis,
her daughter, and the maid-servant, and beat them in a most cruel
manner. One of the thieves then stood sentry while the rest rifled the
house, in which they found a silver tankard, a medal of Charles I., a
gold watch, several gold rings, a considerable sum of money, and a
variety of valuable linen and other effects, which they conveyed to
London.
Hereupon a reward of one hundred pounds was offered for the apprehension
of the offenders; in consequence of which two of them were taken into
custody, tried, convicted on the evidence of an accomplice, and hanged
in chains: and the whole gang being dispersed, Turpin went into the
country to renew his depredations on the public, in any new line of
business which might strike his fancy. On his way towards Cambridge he
fell in with a young man of gentlemanly appearance, who was well
mounted, and expecting a tolerable booty, he presented a pistol to his
breast and demanded his money. The only answer which he received,
however, was a hearty peal of laughter; and when the highwayman, enraged
at the supposed insult cast upon him, threatened instant destruction to
the stranger in case of any further refusal, the latter
exclaimed--"What! dog eat dog?--Come, come, brother Turpin, if you don't
know me, I know you, and shall be glad of your company." The mystery was
soon solved; the stranger was no other than King, the gentleman
highwayman, and a bargain of partnership was struck between them, which
terminated only with the death of our hero's new associate, by the hand
of his companion in iniquity. Joined now in a common cause against the
public, they committed a great number of robberies, until at length they
were so well known that no public-house would receive them as guests.
Thus situated, they fixed on a spot between the King's Oak and the
Loughton road, on Epping Forest, where they made a cave which was large
enough to receive them and their horses. The cave was enclosed within a
sort of thicket of bushes and brambles, through which they could look
and see passengers on the road, while they remained unobserved; and from
this station they used to issue, and robbed such a number of persons,
that at length the very pedlars who travelled the road carried fire-arms
for their defence. While thus situated, they were frequently visited by
Turpin's wife, who used to supply them with necessaries, and who often
remained with her husband in the cave, during King's absence, for the
night.
Having taken a ride as far as Bungay, in Suffolk, the robbers observed
two young countrywomen receive fourteen pounds for corn, on which Turpin
resolved to rob them of the money. King objected, saying it was a pity
to rob such pretty girls: but Turpin was obstinate, and obtained the
booty. Upon their return home on the following day, they stopped a Mr.
Bradle, of London, who was riding in his chariot with his children. The
gentleman, seeing only one robber, was preparing to make resistance,
[Illustration: _Turpin and King.
What! Dog eat Dog!_]
when King called to Turpin to hold the horses, and they took from him
his watch, money, and an old mourning-ring; but returned the latter, as
he declared that its intrinsic value was trifling, and that he was very
unwilling to part with it. Finding that they readily parted with the
ring, he asked them what he must give for the watch: on which King said
to Turpin, "What say you, Jack (by which name he always called him), he
seems to be a good honest fellow; shall we let him have the watch?"
Turpin answered, "Do as you please." Whereupon King said, "You must pay
six guineas for it. We never sell for more, though the watch should be
worth six-and-thirty." The gentleman therefore received the watch, and
said that the money should be left at the Dial, in Birchin-lane, where
they might receive it.
The greatest crime of which Turpin appears to have been guilty was
committed soon after this--it was that of murder. The active inquiries
which the police of the day were making after him and his companion,
obliged them to separate; but Turpin, being less wary than King,
continued to inhabit their old dwelling in the forest. The tempting
offer of 100_l_. reward induced the servant of a gentleman, named
Thompson, and a higgler, to go out in the hope of capturing the
highwayman; and Turpin, being unaware of their object, and seeing them
approach his cave with a gun, mistook them for poachers. He called to
them, telling them that there were no hares in that thicket, upon which
the servant exclaimed, "No, but I have found a Turpin," and instantly
presenting his gun, he called upon him to surrender. Turpin spoke to him
in a friendly way, but retreating from him at the same time, he seized
his own gun, and shot him dead on the spot, the higgler running off with
the greatest precipitation. The consequence of this most detestable act
was, that a great outcry was raised against the highwayman, and he was
compelled to quit the place on which he had hitherto relied for his
concealment. It was afterwards examined, and there were found in it two
shirts, two pairs of stockings, a piece of ham, and part of a bottle of
wine. His place of refuge was in Hertfordshire; and he sent a letter to
his wife to meet him at a public-house in the town of Hertford, but
going to keep his appointment he met a butcher, to whom he owed a sum of
money. The latter demanded payment, and Dick promised to get the money
of his wife, who was in the next room; but while the butcher was hinting
to some of his acquaintance that the person present was Turpin, and that
they might take him into custody after he had received his debt, the
highwayman made his escape through a window, and rode off with great
expedition.
He soon found King; but their meeting was unfortunate for the latter,
for it ended in his death. Proceeding together towards London in the
dusk of the evening, when they came near the Green Man on Epping Forest,
they overtook a Mr. Major, who being mounted on a very fine horse, while
Turpin's beast was jaded, the latter obliged him to dismount, and
exchange. The robbers now pursued their journey towards London; and Mr.
Major, going to the Green Man, gave an account of the affair; on which
it was conjectured that Turpin had been the robber. It was on a Saturday
evening that this robbery was committed; but Mr. Major being advised to
print hand-bills immediately, notice was given to the landlord of the
Green Man, that such a horse as had been lost had been left at the Red
Lion in Whitechapel. The landlord going thither, determined to wait
till some person came for it; and at about eleven at night, King's
brother came to pay for the horse, and take him away, on which he was
immediately seized, and conducted into the house. Being asked what right
he had to the horse, he said he had bought it; but the landlord,
examining a whip which he had in his hand, found a button at the end of
the handle half broken off, and the name of Major on the remaining half.
Upon this he was given into the custody of a constable; but as it was
not supposed that he was the actual robber, he was told that he should
have his liberty if he would discover his employer. Hereupon he said
that a stout man, in a white duffil coat, was waiting for the horse in
Red Lion-street; on which the company going thither, saw King, who drew
a pistol, and attempted to fire it, but it flashed in the pan: he then
endeavoured to pull out another pistol, but he could not, as it got
entangled in his pocket. Turpin was at this time watching at a short
distance off, and riding towards the spot, he saw his companion seized
by some officers who had arrived. King immediately cried out "Shoot him,
or we are taken;" on which Turpin fired, but his shot penetrated the
breast of his companion. King called out, "Dick, you have killed me!"
and Turpin then rode off at full speed.
King lived a week after this affair, and gave information that Turpin
might be found at a house near Hackney Marsh; and, on inquiry, it was
discovered that Turpin had been there on the night that he rode off,
lamenting that he had killed King, who was his most faithful associate.
For a considerable time our hero skulked about the forest, having been
deprived of his retreat in the cave since he shot the servant of Mr.
Thompson; and a more active search for him having commenced, he
determined to make good his retreat into Yorkshire, where he thought
that he would be unknown, and might the more readily evade justice. The
circumstance which induced him to take this step, appears to have been
an attempt made by a gentleman's huntsman, to secure him by hunting him
down with blood-hounds, whose mouths he escaped only by mounting an oak,
when he had the satisfaction to see them pass by without noticing him.
Going first, therefore, to Long Sutton, in Lincolnshire, he stole some
horses, for which he was taken into custody; but he escaped from the
constable as he was conducting him before a magistrate, and hastened to
Welton, in Yorkshire, where he went by the name of John Palmer, and
assumed the character of a gentleman.
He now frequently went into Lincolnshire, where he stole horses, which
he brought into Yorkshire, and there he sold or exchanged them. From his
being apparently a dealer in horses, he became acquainted with many of
the surrounding gentry and farmers; and he frequently accompanied them
on hunting and shooting expeditions. On one of these occasions he was
returning home, when he wantonly shot a cock belonging to his landlord.
Mr. Hall, a neighbour who witnessed the act, said, "You have done wrong
in shooting your landlord's cock," on which Turpin answered, that if he
would stay while he loaded his gun he would shoot him too. Irritated by
the insult, Mr. Hall communicated what had occurred to the owner of the
cock, whereupon complaint being made to the magistrates, a warrant was
granted for the apprehension of the offender; and on his being taken
into custody, he was examined before the magistrates at Beverley and
committed for want of sureties. Inquiries being made, the good opinions
which had been formed of his mode of life were soon dissipated; and it
was conjectured, that instead of being a horse-dealer, he was a
horse-stealer. The magistrates, therefore, proceeded to him, and
demanded to know what his business was; and he answered, that about two
years before, he had carried on business at Long Sutton as a butcher,
but that having contracted some debts for sheep that proved rotten, he
had been compelled to abscond, and to go into Yorkshire to live. The
clerk of the peace being commissioned to ascertain the truth of this
story, learned that he had never been in business, and that he was
suspected to be a horse-stealer, and had been in custody but had
escaped, and that there were many informations against him for various
offences. He was then committed to York Castle; and soon afterwards some
persons coming from Lincolnshire, claimed a mare and a foal, which were
in his possession, and stated that they had been stolen recently before.
The real name and character of the prisoner were soon afterwards
discovered by means of a letter, which he wrote to his brother in Essex.
The letter was as follows:--
"York, February 6, 1739.
"DEAR BROTHER,--I am sorry to inform you that I am now under
confinement in York Castle for horse-stealing. If I could procure
an evidence from London to give me a character, that would go a
great way towards my being acquitted. I had not been long in this
county before my apprehension, so it would pass off the readier.
For Heaven's sake, dear brother, do not neglect me; you well know
what I mean when I say I am yours,
"JOHN PALMER."
The letter was returned to the Post Office unopened, because the postage
was not paid; and Mr. Smith, the schoolmaster, by whom Turpin had been
taught to write, knowing the hand, carried the letter to a magistrate,
by whom it was broken open, and it was thus discovered that the supposed
John Palmer was Dick Turpin. Mr. Smith was in consequence despatched to
Yorkshire, and he immediately selected his former pupil from the other
prisoners, and subsequently gave evidence at the trial as to his
identity.
On the rumour that the noted Turpin was a prisoner in York Castle,
persons flocked from all parts of the country to take a view of him, and
debates ran high whether he was the real person or not. Among others who
visited him was a young fellow who pretended to know the famous Turpin;
and having regarded him a considerable time with looks of great
attention, he told the keeper he would bet him half a guinea that he was
not Turpin; on which the prisoner, whispering the keeper, said "Lay him
the wager, and I'll go your halves."
When this notorious malefactor was brought to trial, he was convicted on
two indictments, and received sentence of death. After conviction he
wrote to his father, imploring him to intercede with a gentleman and
lady of rank, to make interest that his sentence might be remitted, and
that he might be transported; but although the father did what was in
his power, the notoriety of his son's character was such, that no
persons would exert themselves in his favour.
The prisoner meanwhile lived in the most gay and thoughtless manner,
regardless of all considerations of futurity, and affecting to make a
jest of the dreadful fate that awaited him.
Not many days before his execution, he bought a new fustian frock and a
pair of pumps, in order to wear them at the time of his death; and on
the day before that appointed for the termination of his life, he hired
five poor men, at five shillings each, to follow the cart as mourners.
He gave hatbands and gloves to several persons, and left a ring and
other articles of property to a married woman, with whom he had been
acquainted in Lincolnshire.
On the morning of his death he was put into a cart, and being followed
by his mourners, he was drawn to the place of execution; in his way to
which he bowed to the spectators with an air of the most astonishing
indifference and intrepidity.
When he came to the fatal tree he ascended the ladder; and, on his right
leg trembling, he stamped it down with an air of assumed courage, as if
he was ashamed to be observed to discover any signs of fear. Having
conversed with the executioner about half an hour, he threw himself off
the ladder, and expired in a few minutes. Turpin suffered at York, April
10, 1739.
The spectators of the execution seemed to be much affected at the fate
of this man, who was distinguished by the comeliness of his appearance.
The corpse was brought to the Blue Boar, in Castle-gate, York, where it
remained till the next morning, when it was interred in the church-yard
of St. George's parish, with an inscription on the coffin bearing the
initials of his name, and his age. The grave was made remarkably deep,
and the people who acted as mourners took such measures as they thought
would secure the body; but about three o'clock on the following morning
some persons were observed in the church-yard, who carried it off; and
the populace, having an intimation whither it was conveyed, found it in
a garden belonging to one of the surgeons of the city.
Hereupon they took the body, laid it on a board, and, having carried it
through the streets in a kind of triumphal manner, and then filled the
coffin with unslacked lime, buried it in the grave where it had been
before deposited.--It is difficult to conceive the reason of all this
concern and sympathy among the people; for a more depraved, heartless
villain never suffered the penalty of the law. The fashion, however,
which was then set appears to have continued in existence up to the
present day; and fancy has done more to secure the reputation of Turpin
as a hero, and a man of courage and generosity, than any pains he ever
took to obtain for himself a good name as an honest man. It is needless
to add, that the story of the ride to York, and of the wondrous deeds of
the highwayman's steed, "Black Bess," are, like many other tales of this
fellow, the fabrications of some poetical brain.
MARY YOUNG. ALIAS JENNY DIVER.
EXECUTED FOR A STREET ROBBERY.
The name of this woman will long be celebrated in the annals of crime,
as being that of a person who was the most ingenious of her class.
Mary Young was the daughter of poor parents in the north of Ireland; and
at the age of ten years entered the service of a gentlewoman, by whose
directions she was instructed in reading, writing, and needle-work, in
the latter of which she attained a proficiency unusual in girls of her
age. Soon after she arrived at her fifteenth year, a young man, who
lived in the vicinity, made strong pretensions of love to her, and
having formed a desire to visit London, she determined to quit her
benefactress, and make the passion of her lover, for whom she cared
little, subservient to her purpose. She therefore promised to marry him
on condition of his taking her to London, and he joyfully accepted her
proposal, and immediately took a passage to Liverpool. In order,
however, to enable him to undertake the journey, he robbed his master of
a gold watch and 80 guineas, and then he joined his intended wife on
board the ship. Arrived at Liverpool, they determined to remain a short
time to get over the effects of the voyage, and they lived together as
man and wife; but when they were on the point of starting to London by
the waggon, the bridegroom was seized by a messenger despatched in
search of him from Ireland and conveyed before the mayor, whither his
companion accompanied him. He there confessed the crime of which he had
been guilty, but did not implicate Young, and she, in consequence, was
permitted to take her departure for London, having 10 guineas in her
pocket, which she had recently received from her paramour. In a short
time the latter was sent to Ireland, where he was tried, and condemned
to suffer death; but his sentence was eventually changed to that of
transportation.
Upon her arrival in London, our heroine contracted an acquaintance with
one of her countrywomen, named Ann Murphy, by whom she was invited to
partake of a lodging in Long Acre. She endeavoured for a while to obtain
a livelihood by her needle; but, not being able to procure sufficient
employment, her situation became truly deplorable. Murphy then intimated
to her that she could introduce her to a mode of life that would prove
exceedingly lucrative, adding, that the most profound secrecy was
required; and the other, expressing an anxious desire to learn the means
of extricating herself from the difficulties under which she laboured,
made a solemn declaration that she would never divulge what Murphy
should communicate. In the evening, Murphy introduced her to a number of
men and women, assembled in a kind of club, near St. Giles's, who gained
their living by cutting off women's pockets, and stealing watches, &c.
from men, in the avenues of the theatres, and at other places of public
resort; and, on the recommendation of Murphy, they admitted Mary a
member of the society. After her installation they dispersed, in order
to pursue their illegal occupation; and the booty obtained that night
consisted of eighty pounds in cash and a valuable gold watch. As Mary
was not yet acquainted with the art of thieving, she was not admitted to
an equal share of the night's produce; but it was agreed that she should
have two guineas. She now regularly applied two hours every day in
qualifying herself for an expert thief, by attending to the instructions
of experienced practitioners; and, in a short time, she was
distinguished as the most ingenious and successful adventurer of the
whole gang. A young fellow of genteel appearance, who was a member of
the club, was singled out by her as the partner of her bed; and they
cohabited for a considerable time as husband and wife.
In a few months our heroine became so expert in her profession as to
acquire great consequence among her associates, who distinguished her by
the appellation of Jenny Diver, on account of her remarkable dexterity;
and as that is the name by which she is more generally recognised in the
anecdotes of her life which follow, we shall so designate her.
Accompanied by one of her female accomplices, Jenny joined the crowd at
the entrance of a place of worship in the Old Jewry, where a popular
divine was to preach, and observing a young gentleman with a diamond
ring on his finger she held out her hand, which he kindly received in
order to assist her. At this juncture she contrived to get possession of
the ring without the knowledge of the owner, after which she slipped
behind her companion, and heard the gentleman say, that, as there was no
probability of gaining admittance, he would return. Upon his leaving the
meeting he missed his ring, and mentioned his loss to the persons who
were near him, adding that he suspected it to be stolen by a woman whom
he had endeavoured to assist in the crowd; but as the thief was unknown
she escaped. This proof of her dexterity was considered so remarkable
that her associates determined to allow her an equal share of all their
booties, even though she should not be present when they were obtained.
In a short time after this exploit she procured a pair of false hands
and arms to be made, and concealing her real ones under her clothes, she
put something beneath her stays so as to make herself appear as if in a
state of pregnancy, and repaired on a Sunday evening to the place of
worship above-mentioned in a sedan chair, one of the gang going before
to procure a seat for her among the genteeler part of the congregation,
and another attending in the character of a footman.
Jenny being seated between two elderly ladies, each of whom had a gold
watch by her side, she conducted herself with great seeming devotion;
but, the service being nearly concluded, she seized the opportunity,
when the ladies were standing up, of stealing their watches, which she
delivered to an accomplice in an adjoining pew. The devotions being
ended, the congregation were preparing to depart, when the ladies
discovered their loss, and a violent clamour ensued. One of the parties
exclaimed "That her watch must have been taken either by the devil or
the pregnant woman!" on which the other said, "She could vindicate the
pregnant lady, whose hands she was sure had not been removed from her
lap during the whole time of her being in the pew."