Jack Sheppard's escape from Newgate on the night of the 15th of
October was not discovered till the following morning; for although
the intelligence was brought by several parties to the Lodge in the
course of the night, Austin, who was the officer in attendance, paid
no attention to them.
After pursuing the fugitive as before related, Jonathan Wild returned
to his own habitation, where he was occupied during the remainder of
the night with Quilt Arnold and Obadiah Lemon in removing everything
which, in case of a search, might tend to criminate him. Satisfied
in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame
seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's repose
before he began the villanies of another day.
He was aroused from his slumber, about six o'clock, by the return of
Abraham Mendez, who not choosing to confess that Jack had eluded his
vigilance, contended himself with stating that he had kept watch till
daybreak, when he had carefully searched the field, and, finding no
trace of him, had thought it better to return.
This information was received by Jonathan with a lowering brow.
He comforted himself, however, with the certainty which he felt of
capturing his prey on the Sunday. His breakfast despatched, which he
ate with a wolfish appetite, he walked over to Newgate, chuckling
as he went at the consternation which his appearance would create
amongst the turnkeys.
Entering the Lodge, the first person he beheld was Austin, who was
only just up, and whose toilette appeared scarcely completed. A
glance satisfied Jonathan that the turnkey was not aware of the
prisoner's escape; and he resolved not to destroy what he considered
a good jest, by a premature disclosure of it.
“You are out betimes this morning, Mr. Wild,” observed Austin, as
he put on his coat, and adjusted his minor bob. “Something fresh on
hand, I suppose?”
“I'm come to inquire after Jack Sheppard,” returned Jonathan.
“Don't alarm yourself about him, Sir,” replied Austin. “He's safe
enough, I assure you.”
“I should like to satisfy myself on that score,” rejoined Wild,
drily.
“So you shall, Sir,” replied Austin, who at this moment recollected,
with some uneasiness, the applications at the lodge-door during the
night. “I hope you don't imagine anything has gone wrong, Sir.”
“It matters not what I think,” replied Wild. “Come with me to the
Castle.”
“Instantly, Sir,” replied Austin; “instantly. Here, Caliban, attend
to the door, and keep the wicket locked till I return. D'ye hear.
Now, Sir.”
Taking the keys, he led the way, followed by Jonathan, who chuckled
internally at the shock that awaited the poor fellow.
The door was opened, and Austin entered the cell, when he absolutely
recoiled before the spectacle he beheld, and could scarcely have
looked more alarmed if the prison had tumbled about his ears.
Petrified and speechless, he turned an imploring look at Wild, who
was himself filled with astonishment at the pile of rubbish lying
before him.
“'Sdeath!” cried Jonathan, staring at the breach in the wall. “Some
one _must_ have assisted him. Unless he has dealings with the devil,
he could never have done this alone.”
“I firmly believe he _has_ dealings with the devil,” replied Austin,
trembling from head to foot. “But, perhaps, he has not got beyond the
room above. It's as strong, if not stronger, than this. I'll see.”
So saying, he scrambled over the rubbish, and got into the chimney.
But though the breach was large enough to admit him below, he could
not squeeze his bulky person through the aperture into the Red Room.
“I believe he's gone,” he said, returning to Jonathan. “The door's
open, and the room empty.”
“You believe--you _know_ it,” replied Jonathan, fixing one of his
sternest and most searching glances upon him. “Nothing you can say to
the contrary will convince me that you have not been accessory to his
flight.”
“I, Sir!--I swear----”
“Tush!” interrupted Jonathan, harshly. “I shall state my suspicions
to the governor. Come down with me to the Lodge directly. All further
examinations must be conducted in the presence of proper witnesses.”
With these words, he strode out of the room, darted down the stone
stairs, and, on his arrival at the Lodge, seized the rope of the
great bell communicating with the interior of the prison, which he
rang violently. As this was never done, except in some case of great
emergency, the application was instantly answered by all the other
turnkeys, by Marvel, the four partners, and Mrs. Spurling. Nothing
could exceed the dismay of these personages when they learnt why they
had been summoned. All seemed infected with Austin's terrors except
Mrs. Spurling, who did not dare to exhibit her satisfaction otherwise
than by privately pinching the arm of her expected husband.
Headed by Jonathan, all the turnkeys then repaired to the upper part
of the jail, and, approaching the Red Room by a circuitous route,
several doors were unlocked, and they came upon the scene of Jack's
exploits. Stopping before each door, they took up the plates of the
locks, examined the ponderous bolts, and were struck with the utmost
astonishment at what they beheld.
Arriving at the chapel, their wonder increased. All the jailers
declared it utterly impossible he could have accomplished his
astonishing task unaided; but who had lent him assistance was a
question they were unable to answer. Proceeding to the entry to the
Lower Leads, they came to the two strong doors, and their surprise
was so great at Jack's marvellous performance, that they could
scarcely persuade themselves that human ingenuity could have
accomplished it.
“Here's a door,” remarked Ireton, when he got to that nearest the
leads, “which I could have sworn would have resisted anything. I
shall have no faith in future in bolts and bars.”
Mounting the roof of the prison, they traced the fugitive's course to
the further extremity of the building, where they found his blanket
attached to the spike proving that he escaped in that direction.
After severely examining Austin, and finding it proved, on the
testimony of his fellow-jailers, that he could not have aided Jack in
his flight, Jonathan retracted his harsh sentence, and even went
so far as to say that he would act as mediator between him and the
governor.
This was some satisfaction to the poor fellow, who was dreadfully
frightened, as indeed he might well be, it being the opinion of the
jailers and others who afterwards examined the place, that Jack had
accomplished, single-handed, in a few hours, and, as far as it could
be ascertained, with imperfect implements, what it would have taken
half a dozen men several days, provided with proper tools, to effect.
In their opinion a hundred pounds would not repair the damage done to
the prison.
As soon as Jack's escape became known, thousands of persons flocked
to Newgate to behold his workmanship; and the jailers reaped am
abundant harvest from their curiosity.
Jonathan, meanwhile, maintained profound secrecy as to his hopes of
capturing the fugitive; and when Jack was brought back to Newgate on
the Sunday evening, his arrival was wholly unexpected.
At a little after five, on that day, four horses dashed round the
corner of the Old Bailey, and drew up before the door of the Lodge.
Hearing the stoppage, Austin rushed out, and could scarcely believe
his eyes when he beheld Jack Sheppard in the custody of Quilt Arnold
and Abraham Mendez.
Jack's recapture was speedily made known to all the officers of
the jail, and the Lodge was instantly crowded. The delight of the
turnkeys was beyond all bounds; but poor Mrs. Spurling was in a state
of distraction and began to abuse Jonathan so violently that her
future husband was obliged to lay forcible hands upon her and drag
her away.
By Wild's command the prisoner was taken to the Condemned Hold,
whither he was followed by the whole posse of officers and by the
partners; two of whom carried large hammers and two the fetters.
There was only one prisoner in the ward. He was chained to the
ground, but started up at their approach. It was Blueskin. When he
beheld Jack he uttered a deep groan.
“Captain,” he cried, in a voice of the bitterest anguish, “have these
dogs again hunted you down? If you hadn't been so unlucky, I should
have been with you before to-morrow night.”
Jack made no answer, nor did he even cast his eyes upon his follower.
But Jonathan, fixing a terrible look upon him, cried.
“Ha! say you so? You must be looked to. My lads,” he continued,
addressing the partners; “when you've finished this job give that
fellow a fresh set of darbies. I suspect he has been at work upon
those he has on.”
“The link of the chain next the staple is sawn through,” said Ireton,
stooping to examine Blueskin's fetters.
“Search him and iron him afresh;” commanded Jonathan. “But first let
us secure Sheppard. We'll then remove them both to the Middle Stone
Hold, where a watch shall be kept over them night and day till
they're taken to Tyburn. As they're so fond of each other's society
they shan't part company even on that occasion, but shall swing from
the same tree.”
“You'll never live to see that day,” cried Blueskin, fixing a
menacing look upon him.
“What weight are these irons?” asked Jonathan, coolly addressing one
of the partners.
“More than three hundred weight, Sir,” replied the man. “They're
the heaviest set we have,--and were forged expressly for Captain
Sheppard.”
“They're not half heavy enough,” replied Wild. “Let him be
handcuffed, and doubly ironed on both legs; and when we get him into
the Stone Ward, he shall not only be chained down to the ground, but
shall have two additional fetters running through the main links,
fastened on each side of him. We'll see whether he'll get rid of his
new bonds?” he added with a brutal laugh, which was echoed by the
bystanders.
“Mark me,” said Jack, sternly; “I have twice broken out of this
prison in spite of all your precautions. And were you to load me with
thrice the weight of iron you have ordered you should not prevent my
escaping a third time.”
“That's right, Captain,” cried Blueskin. “We'll give them the slip
yet, and hang that butcherly thief-taker upon his own gibbet.”
“Be silent dog,” cried Jonathan. And with his clenched hand he struck
him a violent blow in the face.
For the first time, perhaps, in his life, he repented of his
brutality. The blow was scarcely dealt, when, with a bound like
that of a tiger, Blueskin sprang upon him. The chain, which had been
partially cut through, snapped near the staple. Before any assistance
could be rendered by the jailers, who stood astounded, Blueskin
had got Wild in his clutches. His strength has been described as
prodigious; but now, heightened by his desire for vengeance, it
was irresistible. Jonathan, though a very powerful man, was like
an infant in his gripe. Catching hold of his chin, he bent back the
neck, while with his left hand he pulled out a clasp knife, which
he opened with his teeth, and grasping Wild's head with his arm,
notwithstanding his resistance, cut deeply into his throat. The folds
of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the
gash was desperate. Blueskin drew the knife across his throat a
second time, widening and deepening the wound; and wrenching back the
head to get it into a more favourable position, would infallibly
have severed it from the trunk, if the officers, who by this time had
recovered from their terror, had not thrown themselves upon him, and
withheld him.
“Now's your time,” cried Blueskin, struggling desperately with
his assailants and inflicting severe cuts with his knife. “Fly,
Captain--fly!”
Aroused to a sense of the possibility of escape, Jack, who had viewed
the deadly assault with savage satisfaction, burst from his captors
and made for the door. Blueskin fought his way towards it, and
exerting all his strength, cutting right and left as he proceeded,
reached it at the same time. Jack in all probability, would have
escaped, if Langley, who was left in the Lodge, had not been alarmed
at the noise and rushed thither. Seeing Jack at liberty, he instantly
seized him, and a struggle commenced.
At this moment, Blueskin came up, and kept off the officers with his
knife. He used his utmost efforts to liberate Jack from Langley, but
closely pressed on all sides, he was not able to render any effectual
assistance.
“Fly!” cried Jack; “escape if you can; don't mind me.”
Casting one look of anguish at his leader, Blueskin then darted down
the passage.
The only persons in the Lodge were Mrs. Spurling and Marvel. Hearing
the noise of the scuffle, the tapstress, fancying it was Jack
making an effort to escape, in spite of the remonstrances of the
executioner, threw open the wicket. Blueskin therefore had nothing to
stop him. Dashing through the open door, he crossed the Old Bailey,
plunged into a narrow court on the opposite side of the way, and was
out of sight in a minute, baffling all pursuit.
On their return, the jailers raised up Jonathan, who was weltering in
his blood, and who appeared to be dying. Efforts were made to staunch
his wounds and surgical assistance sent for.
“Has he escaped?” asked the thief-taker, faintly.
“Blueskin,” said Ireton.
“No--Sheppard?” rejoined Wild.
“No, no, Sir,” replied Ireton. “He's here.”
“That's right,” replied Wild, with a ghastly smile. “Remove him to
the Middle Stone Hold,--watch over him night and day, do you mind?”
“I do, Sir.”
“Irons--heavy irons--night and day.”
“Depend upon it, Sir.”
“Go with him to Tyburn,--never lose sight of him till the noose is
tied. Where's Marvel?”
“Here, Sir,” replied the executioner.
“A hundred guineas if you hang Jack Sheppard. I have it about me.
Take it, if I die.”
“Never fear, Sir,” replied Marvel.
“Oh! that I could live to see it,” gasped Jonathan. And with a
hideous expression of pain, he fainted.
“He's dead,” exclaimed Austin.
“I am content,” said Jack. “My mother is avenged. Take me to the
Stone Room. Blueskin, you are a true friend.”
The body of Jonathan was then conveyed to his own habitation, while
Jack was taken to the Middle Stone Room, and ironed in the manner
Wild had directed.