The Chronicles of Crime or The New Newgate Calendar. v. 1/2 / being a series of memoirs and anecdotes of notorious characters who have outraged the laws of Great Britain from the earliest period to 1841.

JAMES SHEPPARD.

EXECUTED FOR HIGH TREASON.

“Sir,—From the many discontents visible throughout this kingdom, I infer that if the prince now reigning could be by death removed, our king being here, he might be settled on his throne without much loss of blood. For the more ready effecting of this, I propose that, if any gentleman will pay for my passage into Italy, and if our friends will entrust one so young with letters of invitation to his majesty, I will, on his arrival, smite the usurper in his palace. In this confusion, if sufficient forces may be raised, his majesty may appear; if not, he may retreat or conceal himself till a fitter opportunity. Neither is it presumptuous to hope that this may succeed, if we consider how easy it is to cut the thread of human life; how great confusion the death of a prince occasions in the most peaceful nation; and how mutinous the people are, how desirous of a change. But we will suppose the worst—that I am seized, and by torture examined. Now, that this may endanger none but myself, it will be necessary that the gentlemen who defray my charges to Italy leave England before my departure; that I be ignorant of his majesty’s abode; that I lodge with some whig; that you abscond; and that this be communicated to none. But, be the event as it will, I can expect nothing less than a most cruel death; which, that I may the better support, it will be requisite that, from my arrival till the attempt, I every day receive the Holy Sacrament from one who shall be ignorant of the design.

“James Sheppard.”

Having carried it to Mr. Leake’s house, he called again for an answer, but he was apprehended, and carried before Sir John Fryer, a magistrate.

When he was brought to his trial, he behaved in the most firm and composed manner; and, after the evidence was given, and the jury had found him guilty of high treason, he was asked why sentence should not be passed on him according to law, when he said “He could not hope for mercy from a prince whom he would not own.” The Recorder then proceeded to pass sentence on him; in pursuance of which, he was executed at Tyburn on the 17th March, 1718. He was attended by a nonjuring clergyman up to the time of his execution, between whom and the ordinary the most indecent disputes arose, extending even up to the time of his arriving at the scaffold, when the latter quitted the field and left the other to instruct and pray with the malefactor as he might think proper.

THE MARQUIS DE PALEOTTI,

EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF HIS SERVANT.

Italian pride had taken deep root in the mind of this man. To his last moment it was predominant. He petitioned the sheriffs that his body should not be defiled by touching the unhappy Englishmen doomed to suffer with him, and that he might die before them, and alone. The sheriffs, in courtesy to a stranger, granted this request, and thus, in his last struggle, he maintained the superiority of his rank.

JOHN PRICE.

COMMONLY CALLED JACK KETCH, EXECUTED FOR MURDER.

In the course of the evidence it appeared that Price met the deceased near ten at night in Moorfields, and attempted to ravish her; but the poor woman (who was the wife of a watchman, and sold gingerbread in the streets) doing all in her power to resist his villanous attacks, he beat her so cruelly that streams of blood issued from her eyes and mouth, one of her arms was broken, some of her teeth were knocked out, her head was bruised in a most dreadful manner, and one of her eyes was forced from the socket. Some persons, hearing the cries of the unhappy creature, repaired to the spot, took Price into custody, and lodged him in the watch-house; and the woman, being attended by a surgeon and a nurse, was unable to speak, but she answered the nurse’s questions by signs, and in that manner described what had happened to her. She died, after having languished four days. The prisoner, on his trial, denied that he was guilty of the murder; but he was found guilty and sentenced to death. He then gave himself up to the use of intoxicating liquors, and continued obstinately to deny his guilt until the day of execution. He then, however, admitted the justice of his punishment, but said that he was in a state of intoxication when he committed the crime for which he suffered. He was executed on the 21st May, 1718 at Bunhill-row, and was afterwards hung in chains at Holloway.

It maybe remarked, that this case affords a striking instance of the absence of the effect of example: for, however much the miserable calling of the unhappy man may have hardened his mind, and rendered him callous to those feelings of degradation which would arise in the heart of any ordinary person, placed in a similar situation, it cannot be supposed that his fear of the dreadful punishment of death could have been in any degree abated by his having so frequently witnessed its execution in all its horrors.

BARBARA SPENCER.

STRANGLED, AND THEN BURNED, FOR COINING.

WILLIAM SPIGGOT, AND THOMAS PHILLIPS.

EXECUTED FOR HIGHWAY ROBBERY.

THIS case is rendered worthy of notice, by the fact that, the prisoners refusing to plead, they were placed under the torture. They were indicted for a robbery upon the king’s highway; but refused to plead until some of their property, which had been taken from them, was returned. This was denied them by the Court, under the provisions of the statute of the 4th & 5th William and Mary; and as, in spite of all entreaties, they persisted in their refusal, to deny or confess the charge against them, the Court ordered that the judgment ordained by law should be read to them. This was,

“That the prisoner shall be sent to the prison from whence he came, and put into a mean room, stopped from the light, and shall there be laid on the bare ground, without any litter, straw, or other covering, and without any garment about him, except something to hide his privy members. He shall lie upon his back, his head shall be covered, and his feet shall be bare. One of his arms shall be drawn with a cord to one side of the room, and the other arm to the other side; and his legs shall be served in the like manner. Then there shall be laid upon his body as much iron or stone as he can bear, and more. And the first day after he shall have three morsels of barley bread, without any drink; and the second day he shall be allowed to drink as much as he can, at three times, of the water that is next the prison-door, except running water, without any bread; and this shall be his diet till he dies; and he against whom this judgment shall be given, forfeits his goods to the king.”

The reading of this sentence producing no effect, they were ordered back to Newgate, there to be pressed to death; but when they came into the press-room, Phillips begged to be taken back to plead. The favour was granted, though it might have been denied to him; but Spiggot was put under the press, and he continued half an hour, with three hundred and fifty pounds’ weight on his body; but, on the addition of fifty pounds more, he also begged to plead.

They were in consequence brought back, and again arraigned; when, the evidence being clear and positive against them, they were convicted, and received sentence of death; in consequence of which they were executed at Tyburn on the 8th of February, 1721.

The prisoner Phillips, after sentence, behaved in a manner which exhibited that he was a person of the most abandoned character. His companion was more attentive to his devotions; but Phillips declared that he did not fear to die, for that he was sure of going to heaven. It appeared, from the declarations of the prisoners, that they had been very successful in their depredations; in the commission of which they were accompanied by a clergyman named Joseph Lindsay, and a lunatic, who had escaped from Bedlam, named Burroughs. The mad prattling of the latter caused the apprehension of his companions, while the evidence of the former tended materially to secure their conviction.

It is almost needless to add, that that remnant of barbarity, the torture, has long since been abolished.

NATHANIEL HAWES.

TORTURED AND AFTERWARDS EXECUTED FOR ROBBERY.

Nathaniel Hawes was a native of Norfolk, in which county he was born in the year 1701. His father was a grazier in good circumstances; but dying while the son was an infant, a relation in Hertfordshire took care of his education.

At a proper age he was apprenticed to an upholsterer in London; but, becoming connected with people of bad character, he robbed his master when he had served only two years of his time, for which he was tried at the Old Bailey, and, being convicted, was sentenced to seven years’ transportation.

His sentence was, however, withdrawn on his becoming evidence against the receiver of the stolen property. But the warning which he had received was of no avail; and after having been once in custody for a robbery, when he was again admitted king’s evidence, he soon joined a fellow with whom he had become acquainted in prison, and meeting a gentleman on Finchley Common, they demanded his money, swearing to murder him, if he did not give it to them.

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.

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 100l. 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.

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.

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.

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 55l.; 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.

“Situated at the upper part of the south-east angle of the gaol, the Chapel of Old Newgate was divided on the north side into three grated compartments, or pens, as they were termed, allotted to the common debtors and felons. In the north-west angle there was a small pen for female offenders; and on the south, a more commodious inclosure appropriated to the master debtors and strangers. Immediately beneath the pulpit stood a large circular pen, where malefactors under sentence of death sat to hear the condemned sermon delivered to them, and where they formed a public spectacle to the crowds which curiosity generally attracted on those occasions. To return, Jack had got into one of the pens at the north side of the chapel. The inclosure by which it was surrounded was about twelve feet high; the under part being composed of oaken planks, the upper part of a strong iron grating, surmounted by sharp iron spikes. In the middle there was a gate: it was locked. But Jack speedily burst it open with the iron bar. Clearing the few impediments in his way, he soon reached the condemned pew, where it had once been his fate to sit; and extending himself on the seat endeavoured to snatch a moment’s repose. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. There he sat as before, with the heavy fetters on his limbs, and beside him sat his three companions who had since expiated their offences on the gibbet. The chapel was again crowded with visitors, and every eye fixed upon him. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the Ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. From this perturbed state he was roused by the thoughts of his present position, and fancying he heard approaching voices, he started up. On one side of the chapel there was a large grated window, but, as it looked upon the interior of the gaol, Jack preferred following the course he had originally decided upon, to making any attempt in this quarter. Accordingly he proceeded to a gate which stood upon the south, and guarded the passage communicating with the leads. It was grated, and crested with spikes, like that he had just burst open; and thinking it a needless waste of time to force it, he broke off one of the spikes, which he carried with him for further purposes, and then climbed over it. A short flight of steps brought him to a dark passage, into which he plunged. Here he found another strong door, making the fifth he had encountered. Well aware that the doors in this passage were much stronger than those in the entry he had just quitted, he was neither surprised nor dismayed to find it fastened by a lock of unusual size. After repeatedly trying to remove the plate, which was so firmly screwed down that it resisted all his efforts, and vainly attempting to pick it with his spike and nail, he at length, after half an hour’s ineffectual labour, wrenched off the box by means of the iron bar, and the door, as he laughingly expressed it, ‘was his humble servant.’

“But this difficulty was only overcome to be succeeded by one still greater. Hastening along the passage, he came to the sixth door. For this he was prepared: but he was not prepared for the almost insurmountable difficulties which it presented. Running his hand hastily over it, he was startled to find it one complicated mass of bolts and bars. It seemed as if all the precautions previously taken were here accumulated. Any one less courageous than himself would have abandoned the attempt from the conviction of its utter hopelessness; but though it might for a moment damp his ardour, it could not deter him. Once again he passed his hand over the surface, and carefully noted all the obstacles. There was a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to the door with thick iron hoops. Below it a prodigiously large bolt was shot into the socket, and, in order to keep it there, was fastened by a hasp, and further protected by an immense padlock. Besides this, the door was crossed and recrossed by iron bars, clenched by broad-headed nails. An iron fillet secured the socket of the bolt and the box of the lock to the main post of the door-way. Nothing disheartened by this survey, Jack set to work upon the lock, which he attacked with all his implements;—now attempting to pick it with the nail;—now to wrench it off with the bar, but all without effect. He not only failed in making any impression but seemed to increase the difficulties, for after an hour’s toil he had broken the nail, and slightly bent the iron bar. Completely overcome by fatigue, with strained muscles and bruised hands, streaming with perspiration, and with lips so parched that he would gladly have parted with a treasure if he had possessed it for a draught of water, he sunk against the wall, and while in this state was seized with a sudden and strange alarm. He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight, and were in pursuit of him—that they had climbed up the chimney—entered the bed-rooms—tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate, which he had left unbroken in the chapel. So strongly was he impressed with this idea, that grasping the iron bar with both hands he dashed it furiously against the door, making the passage echo with the blows. By degrees his fears vanished, and, hearing nothing, he grew calmer. His spirits revived, and encouraging himself with the idea that the present impediment, though the greatest, was the last, he set himself seriously to consider how it might best be overcome. On reflection, it occurred to him that he might, perhaps, be able to loosen the iron fillet—a notion no sooner conceived than executed. With incredible labour, and by the aid of both spike and nail, he succeeded in getting the point of the bar beneath the fillet. Exerting all his energies, and using the bar as a lever, he forced off the iron band, which was full seven feet high, seven inches wide, and two inches thick, and which brought with it, in its fall, the box of the lock, and the socket of the bolt, leaving no further hindrance. Overjoyed beyond measure at having vanquished this apparently insurmountable obstacle, Jack darted through the door.

“Ascending a short flight of steps, Jack found at the summit a door, which, being bolted on the inside, he speedily opened. The fresh air, which blew in his face, greatly revived him. He had now reached what were called the Lower Leads—a flat, covering a part of the prison contiguous to the gateway, and surrounded on all sides by walls about fourteen feet high. On the north stood the battlements of one of the towers of the gate. On this side a flight of wooden steps, protected by a hand-rail, led to a door opening upon the summit of the prison. This door was crested with spikes, and guarded on the right by a bristling semi-circle of similar weapons. Hastily ascending the steps, Jack found the door, as he anticipated, locked. He could have easily forced it, but he preferred a more expeditious mode of reaching the roof which suggested itself to him. Mounting the door he had last opened, he placed his hands on the wall above, and quickly drew himself up. Just as he got on the roof of the prison, St. Sepulchre’s clock struck eight. It was instantly answered by the deep note of St. Paul’s; and the concert was prolonged by other neighbouring churches. Jack had been thus six hours in accomplishing his arduous task.

“Though nearly dark, there was still light enough left to enable him to discern surrounding objects. Through the gloom he distinctly perceived the dome of St. Paul’s, hanging like a black cloud in the air; and, nearer to him, he remarked the golden ball on the summit of the College of Physicians, compared by Garth to a ‘gilded pill.’ Other towers and spires;—St. Martin’s, on Ludgate-hill, and Christ Church, in Newgate-street, were also distinguishable. As he gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate him below. To prevent the recurrence of any such escape as that just described, it was deemed expedient, in more recent times, to keep a watchman at the top of Newgate. Not many years ago, two men employed in this duty quarrelled during the night, and in the morning their bodies were found stretched upon the pavement of the yard below. Proceeding along the wall, Jack reached the southern tower, over the battlements of which he clambered, and crossing it, dropped upon the roof of the gate. He then scaled the northern tower, and made his way to the summit of that part of the prison which fronted Giltspur-street. Arrived at the extremity of the building, he found that it overlooked the flat roof of a house, which, as far as he could judge in the darkness, lay at a depth of about twenty feet below.