The Newgate Calendar gives a long list of crime in this reign, but they are all of the ordinary type—murder, highway robberies, and burglaries with violence, which last was a capital offence; and so indeed it ought to be, were there many such burglaries as this: 'We hear that on Tuesday night last, five Housebreakers broke into Sir Charles Thorn's House near Bedington in Surrey, and having Jagg'd[644] his Servants, got into his Bed Chamber. At their Entrance Sir Charles fir'd a Pistol at them, which unhappily miss'd doing Execution; upon this they bound and Jagg'd him, and afterwards one of them attempted to insult his Lady; at which Sir Charles being exasperated, with much struggling he got his Hands at Liberty, and flung a Perriwig block at the Villain's Head; who in revenge stabbed Sir Charles, then cut his throat from Ear to Ear, and left him Dead on the Spot. They afterwards Ransack'd the House, and it's said, carried off to the value of £900 in Money and Plate. The Lady Thorn is so ill by this barbarous Treatment, that her Life is despaired of.'
There was a most famous housebreaker in this reign—one John Hall, a chimney-sweep, who has a small literature entirely devoted to him—besides having dis-'honourable mention' in the Newgate Calendar, and his biography written by no less a person than Paul Lorrain, the Ordinary of Newgate (who is mentioned both in Tatler 63 and Spectator 338). He had a long poetical elegy composed on him, after the fashion of the times—and an epitaph:—
Here lies Hall's Clay
Thus swept away;
If bolt or key
Obliged his Stay
At judgment day,
He'd make essay
To get away:
Be't as it may,
I'd better say
Here lies Jack Hall,
And that is all.
An Act passed in the fifth year of Anne's reign offered a Government reward of £40 and a pardon to any person concerned in breaking open houses, who shall discover two or more of his accomplices, upon their conviction; whilst the 6 Anne, cap. 9, which deals with simple burglaries, housebreaking, or robbery in shops, etc., repeals the 10 Will. III., cap. 12, sec. 6, which provided that 'every Person and Persons, who should be convicted of or for any Theft or Larceny, and should have the Benefit of the Clergy allowed thereupon, or ought to be burnt in the Hand for such Offence: instead of being burnt in the Hand should be burnt in the most visible part of the left Cheek nearest the Nose;' and settles that henceforth they shall be burnt in the hand.
This 'Benefit of the Clergy' is thus described by Misson: 'About 600 Years ago in the reign of William the Second, the People of England were so strangely ignorant, that the very Priests could hardly read. The King, in order to bring the People out of such a State of Darkness made a Law, that in certain Cases (as Man Slaughter, Theft, (for the first Time) not exceeding the Sum of £5 Sterling, and committed without Burglary, or putting the Person robb'd into bodily Fear, Polygamy, &c.) the Convict might save his Life, and escape with no other Punishment but burning in the Hand, if he were so great a Scholar as to be able to read; and tho' at present there is hardly the meanest Peasant in England but what can read, yet the Law is still in Force. They say to the Criminal, Thou N, who art convicted of having committed such and such a Crime, what hast thou to demand in Favour of thy self, to hinder Sentence of Death being pass'd upon thee? The Criminal answers, I demand the Benefit of the Clergy. His demand is granted, and the Ordinary of Newgate gives him a Book, printed in the old Gothic[645] Letter, in which the Criminal reads a few Words. Then the Lord Mayor, or one of the Judges, asks the Ordinary Legitne vel non? And the Ordinary answers Legit ut Clericus.
'However, when the Criminal has a Right to demand the Benefit of the Clergy, they seldom give themselves the trouble to examine whether they can read or no; be he the greatest Scholar in the World, or the greatest Blockhead, tis all a Case, so he gives but a little Spite of Money to the Ordinary, who tells him in a low Voice (which the whole Court may hear) three or four words, which he pronounces, and there's an End of the matter. 'Tis always taken for granted that a Peer can read, and he is never burnt in the Hand when he claims the Benefit of the Clergy.'
By the 6 Anne, cap. 9, this ceremony of reading was abolished, although the privilege remained the same, and this singular custom was not altogether, and entirely, done away with until 1841, 4 & 5 Vict. 22.
Coining, as infringing the king's prerogative, and being a serious injury to the commonweal, was, of course, a capital offence. One can understand coiners of base metal being punished; those who were cunning in 'the Art of making Black Dogs, which are Shillings, or other pieces of Money made only of Pewter, double Wash'd. What the Professors of this Hellish Art call George Plateroon, is all copper within, with only a thin Plate about it; and what they call Compositum, is a mix'd Metal, which will both touch and cut, but not endure the fiery Test'; but by what reasoning should the following gentleman be found guilty of crime? 'Sir Richard Blackham, formerly a Merchant, was at the sessions house in the Old Baily this week found guilty of Misprision of treason for melting down the coin of England, and making foreign coins of it.'[646]
The ordinary pickpocket was common enough. Let us hear what Gay says of him:—
Here dives the skulking Thief, with practis'd Slight,
And unfelt Fingers make thy Pocket light.
Where's now thy Watch, with all its Trinkets, flown?
And thy late Snuff Box is no more thy own.
But lo! his bolder Thefts some Tradesman spies,
Swift from his Prey the scudding Lurcher flies;
Dext'rous he scapes the Coach, with nimble Bounds,
While ev'ry honest Tongue Stop Thief resounds.
So speeds the wily Fox, alarm'd by Fear,
Who lately filch'd the Turkey's callow Care;
Hounds following Hounds, grow louder as he flies,
And injur'd Tenants joyn the Hunter's Cries.
Breathless he stumbling falls: Ill fated Boy!
Why did not honest Work thy Youth employ?
Seiz'd by rough Hands, he's dragg'd amid the Rout,
And stretch'd beneath the Pump's incessant Spout:
Or plung'd in Miry Ponds, he gasping lies,
Mud Choaks his Mouth, and plaisters o'er his Eyes.