Thus ended the famous Jack Sheppard.
Of a different stamp to Jack Sheppard, and a much greater ruffian, was his little less notorious contemporary Jonathan Wild. This man was a product of the age and of the extraordinary remissness of the law, which made his operations both possible and profitable. The smallest thefts, if only of the value of one shilling, were punishable then, and long afterwards, by death. Nothing shows more strikingly, how remote we of this twentieth century are from the cruelty and harshness of only a century ago, than the short extracts which it is the custom of some of the older London newspapers, The Times and The Observer among them, to reprint from their issues of a hundred years back. Time after time you read, packed away in a few lines, as though of little concern, the proceedings at the Old Bailey Sessions, thus: “Joseph Bailey, convicted of the theft of spoons. Death.” Again, “Henry Trudwick, convicted of the theft of an embroidered waistcoat. Death.” Even the abstraction of a pocket-handkerchief has sufficed to bring a lad to the gallows.
Every Sunday morning in sessions, the box for the condemned in Newgate prison chapel was crowded with wretches, who were to die on the morrow. Looking over the galleries and shouting down encouragement to them, with many oaths and much blasphemy, was another group, equally large. These were awaiting trial and sentence, and were soon to fill the empty places. Executions were so common that the few newspapers of the eighteenth century took no trouble to record them, save when the harvest of death was unusually large, or some picturesque villain by his dashing exploits filled the public eye, and a far-spreading crowd gathered to see his exit from the stage.
The rigour with which capital punishment was applied to almost every crime sent troops of victims to Tyburn’s “triple tree.” Also it became responsible for many ill-favoured ruffians escaping penalty of any kind. But while the criminal code was remorseless in its treatment of the meaner offender, it took no account of the man who was responsible for inciting and abetting him, the “fence,” or receiver of stolen goods. It made no attempt to reach him. That finer subtlety of the law, the “compounding of a felony,” was a much later abstraction; and a feature of the newspapers of the day was the list of advertisements from people whose property had been stolen, and who were quite willing to pay handsomely for its return. Some of them are quaint reading, as this from The Postman (from Tuesday, 25th June, to Thursday, 27th June 1706):
“Stoln, June 17th instant, from Crum-House, on Black Heath, near Greenwich, 6 Knives, 5 Spoons, 5 Forks, 2 Salts, 1 Soop spoon or Ladle, 1 Snuff Pan and 1 pair of Snuffers, in all about 100 oz. of Plate, having for Arms 3 Stags upon a Bend, Crest the Eagle and Child or an Earl’s Coronet. 1 Indian Chinks Quilt of many colours, the border a yellowish colour with red, green and flesh colour in the figures, the other side a dark grownd with yellow flowers, bordered with a light colour, 1 other Indian Chinks quilt, the grownd bluish with large flowers. If any of the above-mentioned goods are offer’d to be sold or pawn’d, all persons are desired to stop the same, and give speedy notice to Mr. Peter Haraches, Goldsmith, in Suffolk-street, who is to give £10 Reward for the whole or proportionable for any part.”
Another in the Daily Courant, 10th September 1706, runs thus:
“Whereas between Monday Night (the 2nd Instant) and Tuesday Morning, there was taken from the House of Mr. Tovey at Blacklands near Chelsea, the Goods following: viz. 1 Silver Skillet mark’d with a short Ringhandle, a Crest of a Faunes Head graved in an Emboss’d Escuchion, the Motto Fuimus, 5 large Silver Spoons mark’d C.T., and a Crest of a Griffin sedant; 6 little old Sweetmeat Spoons with Forks at the Ends, mark’d C.T. on the Bowles: 1 little Cup crack’d in the Brim near the Handle; an ovil Silver Tobacco Box without a Mark; a Common Prayer Book garded with Silver engrav’d, but 1 Clasp on, mark’d on the inside W, a small Child’s Spoon mark’d A.K., an old Beavor Hat, a pair of Coffee colour Gloves stitch’d with White Silk, and a fine Muslin neckcloth. If these or any of these are profer’d to be sold or pawn’d, it is desir’d the Party may be stop’d; or if already sold or pawn’d that Notice may be giv’n to the said Mr. Tovey at the Golden Horse Shooe in the Strand near old Round Court, as speedy as may be. For which trouble shall be a handsome reward.”
An advertisement from The Postman of the date before given strikes at higher game:
“Whereas a Highway Man on a bright Grey Horse in a blue close Bodied Coat with black Buttons, and a loose dark colour’d Coat over it, took from some Passengers in the Oxford Coach going to the Bath on Saturday the 20th of this instant July, between Cirencester and Detmarton an Amathist Ring, the Stone of a fine purple colour, and well set in gold: together with a middle siz’d Pendulum Watch made by Jarret of London, in a Terroise-shell Case studded with Silver, a Squirrel eating Nuts, and several Butterflies being represented in it. If the said Ring or Watch be offer’d to be pawn’d or sold the Person to whom they are so offer’d are desir’d to stop ’em and give notice to Mr. Tonson, Bookseller, under Grey’s Inn Gate in Grey’s Inn Lane, or Mr. Scot at the Dolphin Tavern in Tower street, London, and they shall be well rewarded, and if they are already pawn’d or sold they shall receive their money again with content.”
There is suppressed agony in this plaint of a tradesman in the Mercurius Politicus (Thursday, 21st October, to Thursday, 28th October 1658):