On the morning of his death he was put into a cart, and being followed by his mourners, he was drawn to the place of execution; in his way to which he bowed to the spectators with an air of the most astonishing indifference and intrepidity.
When he came to the fatal tree he ascended the ladder; and, on his right leg trembling, he stamped it down with an air of assumed courage, as if he was ashamed to be observed to discover any signs of fear. Having conversed with the executioner about half an hour, he threw himself off the ladder, and expired in a few minutes. Turpin suffered at York, April 10, 1739.
The spectators of the execution seemed to be much affected at the fate of this man, who was distinguished by the comeliness of his appearance. The corpse was brought to the Blue Boar, in Castle-gate, York, where it remained till the next morning, when it was interred in the church-yard of St. George’s parish, with an inscription on the coffin bearing the initials of his name, and his age. The grave was made remarkably deep, and the people who acted as mourners took such measures as they thought would secure the body; but about three o’clock on the following morning some persons were observed in the church-yard, who carried it off; and the populace, having an intimation whither it was conveyed, found it in a garden belonging to one of the surgeons of the city.
Hereupon they took the body, laid it on a board, and, having carried it through the streets in a kind of triumphal manner, and then filled the coffin with unslacked lime, buried it in the grave where it had been before deposited.—It is difficult to conceive the reason of all this concern and sympathy among the people; for a more depraved, heartless villain never suffered the penalty of the law. The fashion, however, which was then set appears to have continued in existence up to the present day; and fancy has done more to secure the reputation of Turpin as a hero, and a man of courage and generosity, than any pains he ever took to obtain for himself a good name as an honest man. It is needless to add, that the story of the ride to York, and of the wondrous deeds of the highwayman’s steed, “Black Bess,” are, like many other tales of this fellow, the fabrications of some poetical brain.
MARY YOUNG. ALIAS JENNY DIVER.
EXECUTED FOR A STREET ROBBERY.
THE name of this woman will long be celebrated in the annals of crime, as being that of a person who was the most ingenious of her class.
Mary Young was the daughter of poor parents in the north of Ireland; and at the age of ten years entered the service of a gentlewoman, by whose directions she was instructed in reading, writing, and needle-work, in the latter of which she attained a proficiency unusual in girls of her age. Soon after she arrived at her fifteenth year, a young man, who lived in the vicinity, made strong pretensions of love to her, and having formed a desire to visit London, she determined to quit her benefactress, and make the passion of her lover, for whom she cared little, subservient to her purpose. She therefore promised to marry him on condition of his taking her to London, and he joyfully accepted her proposal, and immediately took a passage to Liverpool. In order, however, to enable him to undertake the journey, he robbed his master of a gold watch and 80 guineas, and then he joined his intended wife on board the ship. Arrived at Liverpool, they determined to remain a short time to get over the effects of the voyage, and they lived together as man and wife; but when they were on the point of starting to London by the waggon, the bridegroom was seized by a messenger despatched in search of him from Ireland and conveyed before the mayor, whither his companion accompanied him. He there confessed the crime of which he had been guilty, but did not implicate Young, and she, in consequence, was permitted to take her departure for London, having 10 guineas in her pocket, which she had recently received from her paramour. In a short time the latter was sent to Ireland, where he was tried, and condemned to suffer death; but his sentence was eventually changed to that of transportation.
Upon her arrival in London, our heroine contracted an acquaintance with one of her countrywomen, named Ann Murphy, by whom she was invited to partake of a lodging in Long Acre. She endeavoured for a while to obtain a livelihood by her needle; but, not being able to procure sufficient employment, her situation became truly deplorable. Murphy then intimated to her that she could introduce her to a mode of life that would prove exceedingly lucrative, adding, that the most profound secrecy was required; and the other, expressing an anxious desire to learn the means of extricating herself from the difficulties under which she laboured, made a solemn declaration that she would never divulge what Murphy should communicate. In the evening, Murphy introduced her to a number of men and women, assembled in a kind of club, near St. Giles’s, who gained their living by cutting off women’s pockets, and stealing watches, &c. from men, in the avenues of the theatres, and at other places of public resort; and, on the recommendation of Murphy, they admitted Mary a member of the society. After her installation they dispersed, in order to pursue their illegal occupation; and the booty obtained that night consisted of eighty pounds in cash and a valuable gold watch. As Mary was not yet acquainted with the art of thieving, she was not admitted to an equal share of the night’s produce; but it was agreed that she should have two guineas. She now regularly applied two hours every day in qualifying herself for an expert thief, by attending to the instructions of experienced practitioners; and, in a short time, she was distinguished as the most ingenious and successful adventurer of the whole gang. A young fellow of genteel appearance, who was a member of the club, was singled out by her as the partner of her bed; and they cohabited for a considerable time as husband and wife.
In a few months our heroine became so expert in her profession as to acquire great consequence among her associates, who distinguished her by the appellation of Jenny Diver, on account of her remarkable dexterity; and as that is the name by which she is more generally recognised in the anecdotes of her life which follow, we shall so designate her.