THE PEINE FORTE ET DURE, 1721.
1724. November 16. John, or Jack Sheppard, for burglary.
Jack Sheppard does not seem to have committed any crime worse than burglary: his hands were not stained with blood. He was famed for several remarkable escapes from prison. He had once escaped from Newgate and being again arrested, unusual care was taken of him. But he once more and for the last time escaped, being soon after captured while drunk. For better security he was lodged in a strong room called the Castle, where he was hand-cuffed, loaded with a heavy pair of irons, and chained to a staple in the floor. The Sessions at the Old Bailey began on October 14th, and Jack, knowing that the keepers would be busy in attending the court, thought that this would be the only time to make a push for his liberty.
“The next day, about two in the afternoon, one of the keepers carried Jack his dinner, examined his irons, and found all fast. Jack then went to work. He got off his hand-cuffs, and with a crooked nail he found on the floor, opened the great padlock that fastened his chain to the staple. Next he twisted asunder a small link of the chain between his legs, and drawing up his feet-locks as high as he could, he made them fast with his garters. He attempted to get up the chimney, but had not advanced far before his progress was stopped by an iron bar that went across within-side, and therefore being descended, he went to work on the outside, and with a piece of his broken chain picked out the mortar, and removing a small stone or two about six feet from the floor, he got out the iron bar, an inch square and near a yard long, and this proved of great service to him. He presently made so large a breach, that he got into the Red-Room over the Castle, there he found a great nail, which was another very useful implement. The door of his room had not been opened for seven years past; but in less than seven minutes he wrenched off the lock, and got into the entry leading to the Chapel. Here he found a door bolted on the other side, upon which he broke a hole through the wall, and pushed the bolt back. Coming now to the chapel-door, he broke off one of the iron spikes, which he kept for further use, and so got into an entry between the chapel and the lower leads. The door of this entry was very strong, and fastened with a great lock, and what was worse, the night had overtaken him, and he was forced to work in the dark. However, in half an hour, by the help of the great nail, the chapel spike, and the iron bar, he forced off the box of the lock, and opened the door, which led him to another yet more difficult, for it was not only locked, but barred and bolted. When he had tried in vain to make this lock and box give way, he wrenched the fillet from the main post of the door, and the box and staples came off with it: and now St. Sepulchre’s chimes went eight. There was yet another door betwixt him and the lower leads; but it being only bolted within-side, he opened it easily, and mounting to the top of it, he got over the wall, and so to the upper leads.
“His next consideration was, how to get down; for which purpose looking round him, and finding the top of the Turner’s house adjoining to Newgate, was the most convenient place to alight upon, he resolved to descend thither; but as it would have been a dangerous leap, he went back to the Castle the same way he came, and fetched a blanket he used to lie on. This he made fast to the wall of Newgate, with the spike he stole out of the Chapel, and so sliding down, dropped upon the Turner’s leads, and then the clock struck nine. Luckily for him, the Turner’s garret-door on the leads happened to be open. He went in, and crept softly down one pair of stairs, when he heard company talking in a room below. His irons giving a clink, a woman started, and said, ‘Lord! What noise is that?’ Somebody answered, ‘The dog or the cat’; and thereupon Sheppard returned up to the garret, and having continued there above two hours, he ventured down a second time, when he heard a gentleman take leave of the company, and saw the maid light him down stairs. As soon as the maid came back, and had shut the chamber door, he made the best of his way to the street door, unlocked it, and so made his escape about twelve at night.”
But on October 31st Jack made merry at a public-house in Newgate Street, with two ladies of his acquaintance, afterwards treated his mother in Clare Market with three quarterns of brandy, and in a word got so drunk that he forgot all caution and was once more apprehended.
He still had schemes for eluding justice. He had got hold of a penknife; with this on the road to Tyburn he would cut the cords binding his hands, jump from the cart into the crowd and run through Little Turnstile, where the mounted officers could not follow him, and he reckoned on the sympathy of the mob to help him to make good his escape. But he was searched, and the knife was taken from him. He had one last hope; he urged his friends to get possession of his body as soon as cut down, and put it into a warm bed; so he thought, and precedents were not wanting, his life might be prolonged. This, too, came to naught (Villette, i. 261-6).
In the twenty-third year of his age “died with great difficulty, and much pitied by the mob,” the prince of prison-breakers.
Villette says: “I don’t remember any felon in this kingdom, whose adventures have made so much noise as Sheppard’s.” Six or more stories of his life appeared: among his biographers was Defoe. Sir James Thornhill painted his portrait, reproduced in a mezzotint engraving. The British Journal of November 28, 1724, contained verses on this portrait:—