He was possessed of seven or eight guitars and almost as many violins, and in his leisure moments he took pleasure in musical performances that brought out to the full the qualities of the instruments.
The greengrocer owns a musical bell of glass, which belonged to the convict. When he came outside the gate in the afternoon, and took a cast around the sky with his furtive eye, Peace was communicative and critical to whoever was passing that knew him, and he especially delighted in a chat about crime and criminals with the watchful policemen of his district.
In conversation, he had an odd habit of digging his hands deep into his pockets, and twisting himself round in the pantomimic contortions of a clown. Social visits were never paid, and, except informally, he did not encourage them to his house.
The large menagerie of pets that he formed at Peckham was certainly extraordinary for so unpretentious an establishment, but he was a gentleman devoted to science, and might be allowed to indulge a hobby for zoology.
Whether he was really attached to animals is doubtful, for there are many traits of his nature that indicate he was cruel and remorselessly selfish.
The collection embraced thirty-two guinea pigs, some goats, cats, dogs, canaries, fowls, pigeons, and he had a pony which apparently was much beloved, and which he wept over with tears of regret when “Tommy” died.
Some of these pets he had trained to execute tricks wonderful enough to earn a showman his living. His pony especially had a marvellous obedience to command. At a word he would rear up and remain standing, and at another word he would lie down and remain as if dead.
In short, “Tommy” had been trained to be a silent partner in burglary. The custom of Peace was to go out during the day, with Mrs. Peace and Mrs. Thompson and the son in his trap, himself driving, and take a survey of the mansions he intended to rob during the night, and the precise spots to which he would carry the booty for subsequent recovery and resetting. He made two attacks, as the neighbours express it.
He went out early in the evening when the family were downstairs, and robbed the house upstairs, and later in the evening, or far on in the morning, when the family were upstairs, he roamed through the lower regions and abstracted the heavy articles of plate and gems, of pictures, and all valuables that were portable and transmutable into money. He went out alone on these expeditions.
The son, Willie Ward, was seen by the greengrocer at Forest Hill one morning at six, driving rapidly, as if he had business; and the greengrocer’s man saw the son on two occasions out early in the morning. It is surmised that the son took these early rides in the vehicle, by arrangement with the father, for the purpose of collecting the plunder of the night, and conveying it in an unsuspicious way to the town.