by Rule, Fiona
By now, Jack Sheppard’s reputation was beginning to cause a stir and the subsequent publicity caught the attention of Jonathan Wild, an unpleasant character with strong links to the criminal underworld. Wild was a shrewd operator and consummate self-publicist, who had manufactured himself as London’s ‘Thief-taker General’ by shopping his cohorts to the authorities whenever it suited him. Wild was keen to fence goods stolen by Jack, but Jack was not so enthusiastic about the proposed partnership and refused, thus prompting Wild’s wrath. From that moment on, Jonathan Wild began plotting Sheppard’s downfall.
One summer evening, Wild chanced upon Edgworth Bess in a local inn. Knowing Bess’s fondness for liquor, Wild plied her with drink until she was so inebriated that she revealed Jack’s whereabouts without realising what she had done. Jack was caught and once again imprisoned, this time at Newgate Gaol. At the ensuing trial, Jonathan Wild testified against him and Jack was sentenced to hang on 1 September 1724.
Although Newgate Gaol was more secure than the previous two, the threat of having his life cut short was enough to ensure that Jack effected a means of escape. During a visit from a very repentant Bess and her friend, Poll Maggot, Jack managed to remove a loose iron bar from his cell, and while Bess and Poll distracted the lustful guards, he slipped through the gap to freedom. As a final insult to prison security, he left the gaol via the visitor’s gate, dressed as a woman in clothes provided by Poll and Bess.
By now, Jack’s escapades had attracted nationwide attention. This was a disaster for Jack because it meant there were very few places he could go without fear of being recognised. Just nine days after his escape, he was found hiding in Finchley and taken straight back to Newgate.
This time, the authorities were taking no chances and placed him in a cell known as the ‘castle’, where he was literally chained to the floor. During his incarceration, Jack (who by now had become something of a folk hero), was visited by hundreds of Londoners curious to meet the notorious gaol-breaker. This, of course, gave him the opportunity to acquire various escape tools donated by well-wishers. Unfortunately, these tools were found by guards during a routine search of the cell. Many men would have accepted defeat at this stage, but Jack Sheppard was made of stronger stuff. In fact he was on the verge of accomplishing his greatest escape.
On the 15 October, the Old Bailey was thrown into chaos when a defendant named ‘Blueskin’ Blake attacked the duplicitous Jonathan Wild in the courtroom. The ensuing mayhem spilled over into the adjacent Newgate Prison and Jack saw his chance. Using a small nail he had found in his cell, he managed to unchain his handcuffs but failed to release his leg irons. Undaunted, he tried to climb the chimney but found his way blocked by an iron bar, which he promptly ripped out and used to knock a hole in the ceiling. Jack managed to get as far as the prison chapel when he realised that his only route of escape was down the side of the building – a 60-foot drop. Showing incredible nerve, he decided to retrace his steps back to his cell to retrieve a blanket with which he could lower himself down the wall, onto the roof of a neighbouring house. He did this and after breaking through the house’s attic window, walked down the stairs and out into the street, once again a free man.
This time, Jack managed to evade capture for two weeks until his fondness for drink proved to be his downfall. He was arrested on 1 November and sent back to Newgate for a third time. This time, the authorities were determined not to let him out of their sight and so Jack was put on permanent watch, weighed down with 300lb-worth of ironmongery. During his brief stay at Newgate, he was once again visited by all manner of inquisitive Londoners and even had his portrait painted. A petition was raised appealing to the court to spare his life, but the judge was not prepared to comply unless he informed on his associates, which he was not prepared to do. Jack’s execution date was set for 16 November at Tyburn.
On the day of the hanging, Jack made one final escape attempt, hiding a small pen-knife in his clothing but unfortunately it was found before he was put onto the condemned man’s cart. 18th century hangings were macabre, curious and ultimately barbaric affairs. They were regarded as public spectacles and were attended by hundreds of spectators. The general atmosphere was similar to that of a modern-day carnival and well-wishers cheered Jack on his way down the Oxford Road while men, women and children jostled for the best seats on the gallows’ viewing platforms.
As Jack made his final journey, he had one last plan up his sleeve. He knew that the gallows were built for men of a much heavier build than he, so it was unlikely that his neck would be broken by the drop. If he managed to survive the customary 15 minutes hanging from the rope without being asphyxiated, then his friends and associates could quickly cut down his body, whisk it away ostensibly for a quick burial and take him to a sympathetic surgery where he could be revived. Jack’s final plan may have worked, had it not been for the heroic reputation he had acquired during his escape attempts. Sadly, once his body was cut down from the gallows, it was set upon by the baying mob of spectators, who by now had worked themselves into mass hysteria. Word got around that medical students were in the crowd, waiting to take Jack’s body for medical experiments. Jack’s new found fans crowded round his body to protect it from the student dissectors, making it impossible for his friends to reach him in time to revive him. By the time the crowd dispersed, Jack was dead.
With the exception of Jack the Ripper, Jack Sheppard has over the centuries become Spitalfields’ most notorious son. His daring exploits have provided inspiration for numerous books, films, television programmes and plays, the most famous being The Beggar’s Opera, which in turn formed the basis of The Threepenny Opera by Kurt Weill and Bertolt Brecht.
That said, the punishment he received for his crimes seems extreme to our modern sensibilities. The early 18th century was not a good time to be caught committing an offence in London. During Jack’s last year of escapades, no less than 41 other criminals were sentenced to death at the Old Bailey, while over 300 more were condemned to endure humiliating corporal punishments or exile. A wide variety of crimes were reported in the Old Bailey Proceedings for 1724: Simple Grand Larceny (the theft of goods without any aggravating circumstances such as assault or housebreaking) was by far the most common offence; 39% of convicted prisoners were found guilty of this crime. This was followed by shoplifting and pickpocketing (just under 12% and just over 9% of all prisoners respectively) and burglary (5% of convicted prisoners). Violent crime was relatively rare: five defendants were found guilty of robbery with violence, four were found to have committed manslaughter and just three were found guilty of murder. Other crimes brought to trial that year included bigamy, coining (counterfeiting coins), animal theft and receiving stolen goods.
Punishments for defendants who were found guilty varied enormously. In cases of theft and fraud, the strength of the sentence was usually commensurate with the amount of money involved. On 26 February 1724, Frederick Schmidt of St Martins in the Fields was brought up before the judge accused of coining. As the trial unfolded, it became apparent that Schmidt had been caught changing the value of a £20 note to £100. His accuser, the Baron de Loden, deposed that Schmidt erased the true value from the bank note then ‘drew the Note through a Plate of Gum-water, and afterwards having dried it between Papers, smooth’d it over between papers with a box iron, and afterwards wrote in the vacancy (where the twenty was taken out) One Hundred, and also wrote at the Bottom of the Note 100 pounds.’ The Baron also added that Schmidt boasted to him that ‘he could write 20 sorts of Hands and if he had but 3 or 400 pounds he could get 50,000 pounds.’
The Baron’s accusation was supported by Eleanora Sophia, Countess of Bostram, who had also seen Schmidt altering the note. It appears that Schmidt’s boastful ways caused his downfall. The jury found him guilty of coining and, as this was a capital offence, he was sentenced to death. In contrast, later that year, John and Mary Armstrong were prosecuted for the lesser but potentially very lucrative offence of passing off piec
es of copper as sixpences. One witness deposed that ‘the People of the Town of Twickenham (where the Armstrongs resided) had been much imposed upon by Copper Pieces like Six Pences’ and when the defendants were apprehended, ‘several Pieces of Copper Money, and a parcel of tools were found upon the man.’ Fortunately for the Armstrongs, the jury did not consider their offence to be worthy of capital or even corporal punishment; both were fined three Marks for their misdemeanour.
Theft also carried a very wide range of punishments. On 17 January 1724, Edward Campion, Jonathan Pomfroy and Thomas Jarvis of Islington stood trial for feloniously stealing three geese. On 9 December the previous year, the prisoners were stopped by a night watchman who was understandably curious to find out why the men had geese under their arms. The men admitted to the watchman that they had taken the birds out of a pond. However, once they realised they were going to be prosecuted, they changed their story and said they found the geese wandering around in the road. The jury felt inclined to believe the night watchman’s account and found the trio guilty as charged. The judge, no doubt hoping that a bit of public humiliation might make them see the error of their ways, sentenced them to be whipped.
While being publicly flogged was hardly a pleasurable way to spend an afternoon, it was infinitely preferable to the fate of another animal thief, who had appeared at the Old Bailey in January of the same year. The case was reported succinctly in the Court Proceedings, which in a way makes it all the more shocking to 21st century minds. The entry read, ‘Thomas Bruff, of the Parish of St Leonard Shoreditch, was indicted for feloniously stealing a brown mare, value 5 pounds, the property of William Sneeth, the 25th of August last. The Fact being plainly proved, the jury found him guilty of the Indictment. Death.’
Throughout the 18th century, the death penalty was meted out for all manner of offences, from murder to pickpocketing. Hanging was by far the most common method of carrying out the sentence and mercifully most convicts did not have to wait more than a few weeks for their appointment at Tyburn. By the 18th century many of the more horrific, medieval methods of execution had long since been banned. However, for a few unfortunate individuals found guilty of Treason, two truly appalling relics from the Middle Ages remained. Women found guilty of either Treason or Petty Treason could be sentenced to be burned alive at the stake. Amazingly, coin clipping (filing or cutting down the edges of coins so more could be forged) was included in the offences for which being burned was punishment; three women were burned alive in the 1780s for this very crime. However, many other women who suffered this most dreadful of ends had been found guilty of murdering their husbands (which was considered Petty Treason).
Just 18 months after the execution of Jack Sheppard, a woman named Catherine Hayes was sentenced to death by burning after persuading her two lovers to kill her husband with an axe and then dispose of his body. Any appeals for clemency went unheeded after the trial and the date of Catherine’s execution was set for 9 May at Tyburn. No doubt horrified at the fate that awaited her, Catherine managed to procure some poison while incarcerated at Newgate. However, her plan was discovered by her cellmate and the poison taken away. The details of her execution were recorded by the Newgate Calendar, which reported, ‘On the day of her death she received the Sacrament, and was drawn on a sledge to the place of execution. When the wretched woman had finished her devotions, in pursuance of her sentence an iron chain was put round her body, with which she was fixed to a stake near the gallows.
‘On these occasions, when women were burned for Petty Treason, it was customary to strangle them, by means of a rope passed round the neck and pulled by the executioner, so that they were dead before the flames reached the body. But this woman was literally burned alive; for the executioner letting go the rope sooner than usual, in consequence of the flames reaching his hands, the fire burned fiercely round her, and the spectators beheld her pushing away the faggots, while she rent the air with her cries and lamentations. Other faggots were instantly thrown on her; but she survived amidst the flames for a considerable time, and her body was not perfectly reduced to ashes until three hours later.’
Men convicted of Treason could be sentenced to a different but just as terrible method of execution: that of being hanged, drawn and quartered. Most men who suffered this fate had been accused of conspiring against the monarch and therefore they became martyrs to those who shared their ideals. Perhaps sensitive to this, the Newgate Calendar’s reports of executions of this nature are generally composed with much more taste than the accounts of female murderers such as Catherine Hayes. This does not however negate the fact that this form of execution was ghastly. Before undertaking his final journey, the condemned man would be tied to a hurdle which was in turn attached to a horse. The prisoner was then drawn through the streets in full view of the thousands of onlookers who had turned out to see the macabre spectacle. On reaching the gallows, the man would be placed on the back of a horse-drawn cart and a noose put around his neck. The horses would then be scared into bolting forwards, thus dragging the body from the back of the cart and leaving it to swing in the air. At this point, those who had been sentenced only to hang would be left on the gallows until it was presumed that life was extinct.
A much worse fate met those convicted of Treason. The executioner watched carefully to decide when the prisoner was about to lose consciousness and at that point, the body was cut down and quickly disemboweled and castrated; the executioner making a point of showing the dying convict his own innards and amputated genitalia before he passed out. Once the prisoner had been disemboweled, the corpse was beheaded and the torso cut into quarters. Heads of traitors were often displayed publicly at the entrances to bridges or major thoroughfares as a warning to others, although many were ‘rescued’ by members of the deceased’s family so they could be buried with the rest of the corpse.
Given the sickening nature of all three forms of 18th century capital punishment, being sentenced to death must have devastated all but the most resilient of convicts. However, for those receiving this most awful of sentences, all was not lost. After sentence was passed, the prisoner’s family, friends and associates could petition for mercy via the Recorder of London who in turn, produced a report on each capital sentence and sent it to the reigning monarch for consideration. If the king felt that the prisoner had a good enough case, he could issue one of two types of pardon: a Free Pardon was issued when the monarch and his cabinet felt there was some doubt as to the prisoner’s guilt. Once issued, the accused was free to leave his or her place of incarceration without further ado. More common was the Conditional Pardon. This was issued when it was felt that the sentence delivered was too severe. Receivers of Conditional Pardons generally had their sentences commuted to a lesser punishment. During the 18th century, around half of all those sentenced to death were pardoned.
The death penalty could also be avoided altogether by using two methods, the first of which one involved a mechanism known as ‘Benefit of Clergy’. This ancient system was originally introduced in the Middle Ages to allow the Church to punish its members without going through a civil court. If a prisoner could prove he was a God-fearing Christian, the judge might be persuaded to hand sentencing over to the clergy, whose punishments were far less severe. In order to test the convict’s faith, judges generally asked them to read a passage from the Bible, and Psalm 51 was usually selected due to its theme of confession and repentance. As a result, the Psalm became commonly known as ‘neck verse’ because of the number of necks it had saved from the gallows.
The second method of avoiding the death penalty was to secure a ‘partial verdict’ from the jury. As the accounts above show, the death penalty could be issued for all manner of relatively minor crimes. In fact, theft of goods to the value of just ten shillings or more could carry the penalty of death if the judge was so inclined. However, many jurors felt that this punishment was far too severe and so allowed the defendant to escape the risk of a death sentence by valuing the goods
stolen at under ten shillings, which carried a much more lenient sentence. A good example of the partial verdict in action occurred at the trial of Ann Brown, who went on trial at the Old Bailey on 17 January 1724 accused of shoplifting. Ann had been caught red handed stealing stockings from two shops a month previously. At the trial, she had very little to say in her defence bar the fact that she had been cajoled into committing the crimes by another (anonymous) woman. However, despite having no reasonable excuse for her actions, the jury decided to spare her the prospect of a death sentence by valuing the items at four shillings and ten pence. Ann was spared the noose, but did not escape another, almost equally feared punishment: transportation.
By the beginning of the 18th century, the number of defendants using the ‘Benefit of Clergy’ device to escape the death penalty was at an all time high. This meant that numerous miscreants were released into the community after trial, where they were soon up to their old tricks again.
The authorities addressed this problem by legislating that men and women convicted of ‘Clergyable’ offences could be transported to serve their sentence working in Britain’s colonies. Those found guilty of capital offences could also be transported if the monarch upheld their appeal. In 1718, the Transportation Act was passed through Parliament and proved to be an immediate hit with British judges, who saw it as a way of offering clemency to convicted prisoners while at the same time removing them from British society. A pamphlet from 1731 neatly described the process as ‘Draining the nation of its offensive rubbish, without taking away their lives’. Between 1718 and 1775, two thirds of all convicted criminals at the Old Bailey were sentenced to transportation.
