[45] See page 85.
[46] An encampment was formed in Hyde Park, about 1714. Writing
to Martha Blount, Pope says "The tents are carried there this
morning, new regiments with new clothes and furniture, far
exceeding the late cloth and linen designed by his Grace (the
Duke of Marlborough) for the soldiery."
[47] See also the Life of Jonathan Wild, subsequently related.
The Life of the Famous JOHN SHEPHERD, Footpad, Housebreaker and
Prison-breaker
Amongst the prodigies of ingenious wickedness and artful mischief which
have surprised the world in our time, perhaps none has made so great a
noise as John Shepherd, the malefactor of whom we are now to speak. His
father's name was Thomas Shepherd, who was by trade a carpenter, and
lived in Spitalfields, a man of an extraordinary good character, and who
took all the care his narrow circumstances would allow, that his family
might be brought up in the fear of God, and in just notions of their
duty towards their neighbour. Yet he was so unhappy in his children that
both his son John and another took to evil courses, and both in their
turns have been convicted at the bar at the Old Bailey.
After the father's death, his widow did all she could to get this
unfortunate son of hers admitted into Christ's Hospital, but failing of
that, she got him bred up at a school in Bishopsgate Street, where he
learned to read. He might in all probability have got a good education
if he had not been too soon removed, being put out to a trade, viz.,
that of a cane-chair-maker, who used him very well, and with whom
probably he might have lived honestly. But his mother dying a short time
afterwards, he was put to another, a much younger man, who used him so
harshly that in a little time he ran away from him, and was put to
another master, one Mr. Wood in Wych Street. From his kindness and that
of Mr. Kneebone (whom he robbed) he was taught to write and had many
other favours done by that gentleman whom he so ungratefully treated.
But good usage or bad, it was grown all alike to him now; he had given
himself up to all the sensual pleasures of low life. Drinking all day,
and getting to some impudent and notorious strumpet at night, was the
whole course of his life for a considerable space, without the least
reflection on what a miserable fate it might bring upon him here, much
less the judgment that might be passed upon him hereafter.
Amongst the chief of his mistresses there was one Elizabeth Lion,
commonly called Edgeworth Bess, the impudence of whose behaviour was
shocking even to the greatest part of Shepherd's companions, but it
charmed him so much that he suffered her for a while to direct him in
every thing, and she was the first who engaged him in taking base
methods to obtain money wherewith to purchase baser pleasures. This Lion
was a large masculine woman, and Shepherd a very little slight-limbed
lad, so that whenever he had been drinking and came to her quarrelsome,
Bess often beat him into better temper, though Shepherd upon other
occasions manifested his wanting neither courage nor strength. Repeated
quarrels, however, between Shepherd and his mistress, as it does often
with people of better rank, created such coldness that they spoke not
together sometimes for a month. But our robber could not be so long
without some fair one to take up his time, and drive his thoughts from
the consideration of his crimes and the punishment which might one day
befall them.
The creature he picked out to supply the place of Betty Lion was one
Mrs. Maggott, a woman somewhat less boisterous in her temper, but full
as wicked. She had a very great contempt for Shepherd, and only made use
of him to go and steal money, or what might yield money, for her to
spend in company that she liked better. One night when Shepherd came to
her and told her he had pawned the last thing he had for half a crown,
_Prithee_, says she, _don't tell me such melancholy stories but think
how you may get more money. I have been in Whitehorse Yard this
afternoon. There's a piece-broker there worth a great deal of money; he
keeps his cash in a drawer under the counter, and there's abundance of
good things in his shop that would be fit for me to wear. A word, you
know, to the wise is enough, let me see now how soon you'll put me in
possession of them._ This had the effect she desired; Shepherd left her
about one o'clock in the morning, went to the house she talked of, took
up the cellar window bars, and from thence entered the shop, which he
plundered of money and goods, to the amount of £22. He brought it to his
doxy the same day before she was stirring, who thereupon appeared very
satisfied with his diligence, and helped him in a short time to squander
what he had so dearly earned.
However, he still retained some affection for his old favourite, Bess
Lion, who being taken up for some of her tricks, was committed to St.
Giles's Round-house. Shepherd going to see her there, broke the doors
open, beat the keeper, and like a true knight-errant, set his distressed
paramour at liberty. This heroic act got him so much reputation amongst
the fair ladies in Drury Lane that there was nobody of his profession so
much esteemed by them as John Shepherd, with his brother Thomas, who had
taken to the same trade. Observing and being in himself in tolerable
estimation with that debauched part of the sex, he importuned some of
them to speak to his brother John to lend him a little money, and for
the future to allow him to go out robbing with him. To both these
propositions Jack (being a kind brother as he himself said) consented at
the first word, and from thence forward the two brothers were always of
one party: Jack having, as he impudently phrased it, lent him forty
shillings to put himself in a proper plight, and soon after their being
together having broke open an alehouse, where they got a tolerable
booty, in a high fit of generosity, John presented it all to his
brother, as, soon after, he did clothes to a very considerable extent,
so that the young man might not appear among the damsels of Drury
unbecoming Mr. Shepherd's brother.
About three weeks after their coming together, they broke open a
linen-draper's shop, near Clare Market, where the brothers made good use
of their time; for they were not in the house above a quarter of an hour
before they made a shift to strip it of £50. But the younger brother
acting imprudently in disposing of some of the goods, he was detected
and apprehended, upon which the first thing he did was to make a full
discovery to impeach his brother and as many of his confederates as he
could. Jack was very quickly apprehended upon his brother's information,
and was committed by Justice Parry to the Round-house, for further
examination. But instead of waiting for that, Jack began to examine as
well as he could the strength of the place of his confinement, which
being much too weak for a fellow of his capacity, he marched off before
night, and committed a robbery into the bargain, but vowed to be
revenged on Tom who had so basely behaved himself (as Jack phrased it)
towards so good a brother. However, that information going off, Jack
went on in his old way as usual.
One day in May he and F. Benson being in Leicester Fields, Benson
attempted to get a gentleman's watch, but missing his pull, the
gentleman perceived it and raised a mob. Shepherd passing briskly to
save his companion, was apprehended in his stead, and being carried
before Justice Walters, was committed to New Prison, where the first
sight he saw was his old companion, Bess Lion, who had found her way
thither upon a like errand. Jack, who now saw himself beset with danger,
began to exert all his little cunning, which was indeed his masterpiece.
For this purpose he applied first to Benson's friends, who were in good
circumstances, hoping by their mediation to make the matter up, but in
this he miscarried. Then he attempted a slight information, but the
Justice to whom he sent it, perceiving how trivial a thing it was, and
guessing well at the drift thereof, refused it. Whereupon Shepherd, when
driven to his last shift, communicated his resolution to Bess Lion. They
laid their heads together the fore part of the night, and then went to
work to break out, which they effected by force, and got safe off to one
of Bess Lion's old lodgings, where she kept him secret for some time,
frightening him with stories of great searches being made after him, in
order to detain him from conversing with any other woman.
But Jack being not naturally timorous, and having a strong inclination
to be out again in his old way with his companions, it was not long
before he gave her the slip, and lodged himself with another of his
female acquaintances, in a little by-court near the Strand. Here one
Charles Grace desired to become an associate with him. Jack was very
ready to take any young fellow in as a partner of his villainies, and
Grace told him that his reason for doing such things was to keep a
beautiful woman without the knowledge of his relations. Shepherd and he
therefore getting into the acquaintance of one Anthony Lamb, an
apprentice of Mr. Carter, near St. Clement's Church, they inveigled the
young man to consent to let them in to rob his master's house. He
accordingly performed it, and they took from Mr. Barton, who lodged
there, to a very considerable value. But Grace and Shepherd quarrelling
about the division, Shepherd wounded Grace in a violent manner, and on
this quarrel betraying one another, they were all taken, Shepherd only
escaping. But the misfortune of poor Lamb who had been drawn in, being
so very young, so far prevailed upon several gentlemen who knew him,
that they not only prevailed to have his sentence mitigated to
transportation, but also furnished him with all necessaries, and
procured an order that on his arrival there he should not be sold as the
other felons were, but that he should be left at liberty to provide for
himself as well as he could.
It seems that Shepherd's gang (which consisted of himself, his brother
Tom, Joseph Blake, _alias_ Blueskin, Charles Grace, James Sikes, to
whose name his companions tacked their two favourite syllables, Hell and
Fury) not knowing how to dispose of the goods they had taken, made use
of one William Field for that purpose, who Shepherd in his ludicrous
style, used to characterise thus: that he was a fellow wicked enough to
do anything, but his want of courage permitted him to do nothing but
carry on the trade he did, which was that of selling stolen goods when
put into his hands.
But Blake and Shepherd finding Field somewhat dilatory, not thinking it
always safe to trust him, they resolved to hire a warehouse and lodge
their goods there, which accordingly they did, near the Horseferry in
Westminster. There they placed what they had taken out of Mr. Kneebones'
house, and the goods made a great show there, whence the people in the
neighbourhood really took them for honest persons, who had so great a
wholesale business on their hands as occasioned their taking a place
where they by convenient for the water.
Field, however, importuned them (having got scent they had such a
warehouse) that he might go and see the goods, pretending that he had it
just now in his power to sell them at a very great price. They
accordingly carried him thither and showed him the things. Two or three
days afterwards, though he had not courage enough to rob anybody else,
Field ventured to break open the warehouse, and took every rag that had
been lodged there; and not long after, Shepherd was apprehended for the
fact and tried at the next sessions of the Old Bailey.
His appearance there was very mean, and all the defence he offered to
make was that Jonathan Wild had helped to dispose of part of the goods
and he thought it was very hard that he should not share in the
punishment. The Court took little notice of so insignificant a plea and
sentence being passed upon him, he hardly made a sensible petition for
the favour of the Court in the report, but behaved throughout as a
person either stupid or foolish, so far was he from appearing in any
degree likely to make the noise he afterwards did.
When put into the condemned hold, he prevailed upon one Fowls, who was
also under sentence, to lift him up to the iron spikes placed over the
door which looks into the lodge. A woman of large make attending
without, and two others standing behind her in riding hoods, Jack no
sooner got his head and shoulders through between the iron spikes, than
by a sudden spring his body followed with ease, and the women taking him
down gently, he was without suspicion of the keepers (although some of
them were drinking at the upper end of the lodge) conveyed safely out of
the lodge door, and getting a hackney coach went clear off before there
was the least notice of his escape, which, when it was known, very much
surprised the keepers, who never dreamt of an attempt of that kind
before.
As soon as John breathed the fresh air, he went again briskly to his old
employment, and the first thing he did was to find out one Page, a
butcher of his acquaintance in Clare Market, who dressed him up in one
of his frocks, and then went with him upon the business of raising
money. No sooner had they set out, but Shepherd remembering one Mr.
Martin, a watchmaker near the Castle Tavern in Fleet Street, he
prevailed upon his companion to go thither, and screwing a gimlet fast
into the post of the door, they then tied the knocker thereto with a
spring, and then boldly breaking the windows, they snatched three
watches before a boy that was in the shop could open the door, and so
marched clear off, Shepherd having the impudence, upon this occasion, to
pass underneath Newgate.
However, he did not long enjoy his liberty, for strolling about Finchley
Common, he was apprehended and committed to Newgate, and was put
immediately in the Stone Room, where they put him on a heavy pair of
irons, and then stapled him fast down to the floor. Being left there
alone in the sessions time (most of the people in the gaol then
attending at the Old Bailey) with a crooked nail he opened the lock, and
by that means got rid of his chain, and went directly to the chimney in
the room, where with incessant working he got out a couple of stones and
by that means climbed up into a room called the Red Room, where nobody
had been lodged for a considerable time. Here he threw down a door,
which one would have thought impossible to have been done by the
strength of man (though with ever so much noise); from hence with a
great deal to do, he forced his passage into the chapel. There he broke
a spike off the door, forcing open by its help four other doors. Getting
at last upon the leads, he from thence descended gently (by the help of
the blanket on which he lay, for which he went back through the whole
prison) upon the leads of Mr. Bird, a turner who lives next door to
Newgate; and looking in at the garret window, he saw the maid going to
bed. As soon as he thought she was asleep, he stepped downstairs, went
through the shop, opened the door, then into the street, leaving the
door open behind him.
In the morning, when the keepers were in search after him, hearing of
this circumstance by the watchman, they were then perfectly satisfied of
the method by which he went off. However, they were obliged to publish
a reward and make the strictest enquiry after him, some foolish people
having propagated a report that he had not got out without connivance.
In the meanwhile, Shepherd found it a very difficult thing to get rid of
his irons, being obliged to lurk about and lie hid near a village not
far from town, until with much ado he fell upon a method of procuring a
hammer and taking his irons off.
[Illustration: JACK SHEPPARD IN THE STONE ROOM IN NEWGATE
_(From the Annals of Newgate)_]
He was no sooner freed from the encumbrance that remained upon him, than
he came secretly into the town that night, and robbed Mr. Rawlin's
house, a pawnbroker in Drury Lane. Here he got a very large booty, and
amongst other things a very handsome black suit of clothes and a gold
watch. Being dressed in this manner he carried the rest of the goods and
valuable effects to two women, one of whom was a poor young creature
whom Shepherd had seduced, and who was imprisoned on this account. No
sooner had she taken care of the booty but he went among his old
companions, pickpockets and whores in Drury Lane and Clare Market. There
being accidentally espied fuddling at a little brandy-shop, by a boy
belonging to an alehouse, who knew him very well, the lad immediately
gave information upon which he was apprehended, and reconducted, with a
vast mob, to his old mansion house of Newgate, being so much intoxicated
with liquor that he was hardly sensible of his miserable fate. However,
they took effectual care to prevent a third escape, never suffering him
to be alone a moment, which, as it put the keepers to a great expense,
they took care to pay themselves with the money they took of all who
came to see him.
In this last confinement it was that Mr. Shepherd and his adventures
became the sole topic of conversation about town. Numbers flocked daily
to behold him, and far from being displeased at being made a spectacle
of, he entertained all who came with the greatest gaiety that could be.
He acquainted them with all his adventures, related each of his
robberies in the most ludicrous manner, and endeavoured to set off every
circumstance of his flagitious life as well as his capacity would give
him leave, which, to say truth, was excellent at cunning, and
buffoonery, and nothing else.
Nor were the crowds that thronged to Newgate on this occasion made up of
the dregs of the people only, for then there would have been no wonder;
but instead of that they were persons of the first distinction, and not
a few even dignified with titles.[48] 'Tis certain that the noise made
about him, and this curiosity of persons of so high a rank, was a very
great misfortune to the poor wretch himself, who from these
circumstances began to conceive grand ideas of himself, as well as
strong hopes of pardon, which encouraged him to play over all his airs
and divert as many as thought it worth their while by their presence to
prevent a dying man from considering his latter end, who instead of
repenting of his crimes, gloried in rehearsing them.
Yet when Shepherd came up to chapel, it was observed that all his gaiety
was laid aside, and he both heard and assisted with great attention at
Divine Service, though upon other occasions he avoided religious
discourse as much as he could; and depending upon the petitions he had
made to several noblemen to intercede with the king for mercy, he seemed
rather to aim at diverting his time until he received a pardon, than to
improve the few days he had to prepare himself for his last.
On the 10th of November, 1724, he was by _Certiorari_ removed to the bar
of the Court of King's Bench, at Westminster. An affidavit being made
that he was the same John Shepherd mentioned in the record of conviction
before him, Mr. Justice Powis awarded judgment against him, and a rule
was made for his execution on the 16th.
Such was the unaccountable fondness this criminal had for life, and so
unwilling was he to lose all hopes of preserving it, that he framed in
his mind resolutions of cutting the rope when he should be bound in the
cart, thinking thereby to get amongst the crowd, and so into Lincoln's
Inn Fields, and from thence to the Thames. For this purpose he had
provided a knife, which was with great difficulty taken from him by Mr.
Watson, who was to attend him to death. Nay, his hopes were carried even
beyond hanging, for when he spoke to a person to whom he gave what money
he had remaining out of the large presents he had received from those
who came to divert themselves at Shepherd's Show, or Newgate Fair, he
most earnestly entreated him that as soon as possible his body might be
taken out of the hearse which was provided for him, put into a warm bed,
and if it were possible, some blood taken from him, for he was in great
hopes that he might be brought to life again; but if he was not, he
desired him to defray the expenses of his funeral, and return the
overplus to his poor mother. Then he resumed his usual discourse about
his robberies and in the last moments of his life endeavoured to divert
himself from the thoughts of death. Yet so uncertain and various was he
in his behaviour that he told one whom he had a great desire to see on
the morning that he died, that he had then a satisfaction at his heart,
as if he were going to enjoy two hundred pounds _per annum_.
At the place of execution, to which he was conveyed in a cart, with iron
handcuffs on, he behaved himself very gravely, confessing his robbery of
Mr. Philips and Mrs. Cook, but denied that he and Joseph Blake had
William Field in their company when they broke open the house of Mr.
Kneebone. After this he submitted to his fate on the 16th of November,
1724, much pitied by the mob.[49]