befel the criminal whose memoirs we have undertaken to transmit to
posterity, yet they fail not of making them exceedingly uneasy and
grievously unhappy, consequences unavoidably entailed on these
destructive pleasures, so contrary to the nature of man's soul, and so
derogatory from that excellence to the attainment of which he was
created. Although one would imagine these observations must naturally
occur at some time or other to the minds of persons who ever think at
all concerning the design of their own being yet experience convinces us
that they very seldom do, and if they do, they make but very little
impression.

William Marple, the first of these criminals, was descended from parents
of very tolerable fortune, as well as unblemished reputation. Their care
had not only gone so far in providing him with useful and common
learning, but had also been careful in bestowing on him an excellent
education in schools both in town and country. The use he made of them
you will quickly hear, which cannot however be mentioned as a reflection
on his unhappy parents, who were as industrious to have him taught good,
as he was in pursuing evil.

When he grew to years capable of being put out to business, the
unsettled giddiness of his temper sufficiently appeared, for being put
out to three several trades at his own request, he could not bring
himself to any of them, but went at last to a fourth which was that of a
joiner, with whom he stayed a considerable space. But before the
expiration of his time he fell in love with a young woman and married
her, which coming with other stories to his master's ears, occasioned
such difference that they parted.

Marple was prodigiously fond of his new married wife, and what is a
pretty rare circumstance in this age, his fondness proved the greatest
advantage possible to him, for the young woman being in herself both
virtuous and industrious, her temper (as it is natural for us to imitate
what we love) made so great an impression upon Marple that from a wild,
loose and extravagant young man, he became a sober, diligent and honest
workman, labouring hard to get his bread, and living at home with his
wife in the greatest tranquility and with the utmost satisfaction. But
the agreeable beauty of this scene was soon darkened, or rather totally
destroyed, by the death of his wife; for no sooner were the transports
of his melancholy over than he returned to his old course of life. And
in order to efface effectually that grief which still hung over him, he
removed out of town to an adjacent village, where he quickly contracted
an intimate acquaintance with a young woman, and thereby almost at once
put all thoughts of sorrow and honesty quite out of his head. This
creature was of a very different disposition from Marple's late wife.
She had no regard for the man, farther than she was able to get money
out of him; and provided she had wherewith to buy her fine clothes and
keep her in handsome lodgings, she gave herself no trouble how he came
by it, and this carriage of hers in a short time put him upon illegal
methods of obtaining money.

Who were his first companions in his robberies is not in my power to
say; it was generally looked upon that one Rouden seduced him, but
Marple declared this to be false, and perhaps the best account that can
be given is that he was led to it by his own evil inclinations, and his
necessities in which they had brought him. However it were, during the
time he practised going upon the road nobody committed more robberies
than he himself did, preying alike upon all sorts of people, and taking
from the poor what little they had, as well as plundering the rich of
what they could much better spare.

In Marylebone Fields he and his companion Cotton met with a poor woman
with a basket on her head, who gained her livelihood by selling joints
of meat to gentlemen's families. The first thing they did was to search
her basket, in which there was a fine leg of mutton, which these
gentlemen thought fit to dress and eat next day for dinner. They then
commanded her to deliver her money, which she declared was a thing out
of her power, because she had none about her; upon which they took her
pocket and turned it out, where finding seven shillings, Marple struck
and abused the woman for daring to tell him a lie.

Amongst the rest of the acquaintance that Marple picked up, was a young
man who had a very rich uncle who, though he was very willing to do
anything which might be for the real good of his nephew, did not think
it at all reasonable to waste his fortune in the supply of the young
man's extravagances. This spark, with another, acquainted Marple how
easy a thing it would be to rob the old man of a considerable sum of
money. They readily came into the project, and accordingly it was put
into execution; Marple and the nephew actually committing the robbery,
and the other man standing at the door till they came out. The booty
they got was about thirty-six guineas, which they divided into three
parts. In a very short time, Marple was apprehended and committed to
Newgate for this very fact. However, the old man would not prosecute
him, because he would not expose his relation.

Yet this was no warning to Marple who continued his old trade, and
committed thirty or forty robberies in a very short space. Drinking was
a vice he abhorred, and the chief cause for which he addicted himself to
this life of rapine was his associating himself with all sorts of lewd
women, amongst whom he became acquainted with the infamous Elizabeth
Lion,[84] mistress to Jack Shepherd, who grew quickly too impudent and
abusive for Marple's conversation, for when he fell under his
misfortunes he declared that she was the vilest and most abominable
wretch that ever lived. However, to the immodest, lascivious carriage of
this woman, he owed the sudden dislike he took to that sort of cattle;
which became so strong that he no longer frequented their company, but
married a second wife, a young woman of a handsome person, of a good
character, and who, as he said, was totally ignorant of the measures he
took for getting money.

Timothy Cotton, the second of these malefactors, was descended of mean,
yet honest parents, who in his infancy had not spared to give him a very
good education, and bred him to get an honest livelihood to the trade of
a poulterer. In this, when he grew up, he was for a time very
industrious, and got thereby sufficient to have maintained himself and
his family, as well as he could reasonably expect; but happening
unluckily to call into the acquaintance and conversation of lewd women,
they soon took up so much of his thoughts, his time and his money, that
he was obliged to think of easier methods of getting it than those to
which hitherto he had applied himself. For it is a truth deducible from
uninterrupted experience that a whore is not to be maintained at the
same easy expense with a wife. Cotton found this to his cost, for he had
not committed above five robberies, of which three were with his
companion Marple, who had been his schoolfellow, before he was
apprehended.

The first of their exploits, I have already told you, was plundering the
poor woman's basket. The second was upon the Hampstead Road, where they
stopped the coach and robbed the passengers. Three gentlemen coming by
on horseback, Marple presented his pistol, and commanded them to ride
off as hard as they could; but the fear with which they were seized made
them so far mistake his words as to apprehend he bid them deliver, and
so they went very readily to work, putting their hands into their
pockets to satisfy his demands. But Marple having no guess of their
intention, and perceiving them to stand still, repeated his order to
them to ride off, with greater vehemency than before, which as soon as
they apprehended they very readily complied with, and rode off as hard
as their horses would carry them. A little while after this they robbed
one Stout, who was servant to Captain Trevor, of his hat, two pounds of
butter, his buckles, five and sixpence in money, and some other trivial
things. For this fact they were both apprehended, and at the next
sessions at the Old Bailey tried and convicted upon very full evidence.

Under sentence of death Marple appeared with less concern than is
usually seen in persons under such unfortunate circumstances. He however
confessed a multitude of offences with which he was not charged, as well
as that particular crime for which he was convicted. He said he had
never any strong inclination to drunkenness or gaming, but that
addicting himself to the company and conversation of bad women had been
the sole occasion of all his misfortunes. He particularly regretted his
want of respect towards his parents, and especially towards his mother,
who had given him the best of advice, though he had trifled with and
abused it. He said that he often struck and abused those whom he robbed,
but not so as to endanger their lives, and therefore he hoped they would
forgive him, and join their prayers with his for his forgiveness at the
hand of God.

Cotton was more tender and more penitent, expressed great sorrow for his
numerous offences, and besought Almighty God to accept of a sincere,
though late repentance. They both of them protested that their wives had
not anything to do with their affairs, that they never advised them, nor
were so much as privy to the offences they had committed. Then both of
them suffered with much penitence and resignation, on the 24th of March,
1729, Marple being about thirty, and Cotton near twenty-five years of
age.

FOOTNOTES:

[84] See page 182.




The Life of JOHN UPTON, a Pirate; including also the history of that
sort of people, particularly the crew under Captain Cooper, in the
_Night Rambler_


No laws in any civilized nations are more severe than those against
piracy, nor are they less severely executed, and the criminals who
suffer by them are usually the least pitied, or rather the most detested
of all who come to die an ignominious death by the sentence of the Law.
Of old they were styled _hostes humani generis_, and the oldest systems
we have of particular institutions have treated them with a rigor
suitable to their offence. With respect to those who fall into the hands
of British justice, it must be remarked that they usually plead as an
excuse for what they have done their being forced into pirates' service,
and as it is well known that numbers are really forced into crimes they
detest, so the lenience of our judicators generally admit whatever
proofs are probable in such a case. But where the contrary appears, and
the acts of piracy plainly arise from the wicked dispositions of the
offenders, the Royal Mercy is less frequently extended to them than to
any other sort of criminal whatever.

As to the prisoner of whom we are to speak, John Upton was born at
Deptford, of very honest parents who gave him such an education as
fitted their station, and that in which they intended to breed him. When
grown up to be a sturdy youth, they put him out apprentice to a
waterman, with whom he served out his time faithfully, and with a good
character. Afterwards he went to sea and served for twenty-eight years
together on board a man-of-war, in the posts of either boatswain or
quartermaster. Near the place of his birth he married a woman, took a
house and lived very respectably with her during the whole course of her
life, but she dying while he was at sea, and finding at his return that
his deceased wife had run him greatly in debt, clamours coming from
every quarter, and several writs being issued out against him, he
quitted the service in the man-of-war, and went immediately in a
merchantman to Newfoundland. There by agreement he was discharged from
the ship and entered himself for eighteen pounds _per annum_ into the
service of a planter in that country in order to serve him in fishing
and furring, the chief trade of that place; for Newfoundland abounding
with excellent harbours, there is no country in the world which affords
so large and so plentiful a fishery as this does. However its climate
renders it less desirable, it being extremely hot in the summer and as
intensely cold in the winter, when the wild beasts roam about in great
numbers, and furnish thereby an opportunity to the inhabitants of
gaining considerably by falling them, and selling their furs.

Upton having served his year out was discharged from his master, and
going to New England, he there, in the month of July, 1725, shipped
himself on board the _Perry_ merchantman bound for Barbadoes. The ship
was livred and loaded again, the captain designing them to sail for
England, whereupon Upton desired leave to go on board his Majesty's ship
_Lynn_, Captain Cooper. But Captain King absolutely refusing to
discharge him in order thereto, on the ninth of November, 1725, he
sailed in the aforesaid vessel for England.

On the twelfth of the same month, off Dominica, they were attacked by a
pirate sloop called the _Night Rambler_, under the command of one
Cooper. The pirate immediately ordered the captain of the _Perry_ galley
to come on board his ship, which he and four of his men did, and the
pirate immediately sent some of his crew on board the _Perry_ galley,
who effectually made themselves masters thereof, and as Upton said, used
him and the rest of the persons they found on board with great
inhumanity and baseness, a thing very common amongst those wretches.
Upton also insisted that as to himself, one of the pirate's crew ran up
to him as soon as they came on board and with a cutlass in his hand,
said with an oath, _You old son of a bitch, I know you and you shall go
along with us or I'll cut out your liver_, and thereupon fell to beating
him fore and aft the deck with his cutlass.

The same evening he was carried on board the pirate sloop, where,
according to his journal, three of the pirates attacked him; one with a
pistol levelled at his forehead demanded whether he would sign their
articles, another with a pistol at his right ear, swore that if he did
not they would blow out his brains, while a third held a couple of forks
at his breast, and terrified him with the continual apprehensions of
having them stabbed into him. Whereupon he told them that he had four
young infants in England, to whom he thought it his duty to return, and
therefore begged to be excused as having reason to decline their
service, as well as a natural dislike to their proceedings. Upon which,
he said, he called his captain to take notice that he did not enter
voluntarily amongst them. Upon this the pirate said they found out a way
to satisfy themselves by signing for him, and this, he constantly
averred, was the method of his being taken into the crew of the _Night
Rambler_, where he insisted he did nothing but as he was commanded,
received no share in the plunder, but lived wholly on the ship's
allowance, being treated in all respect as one whom force and not choice
had brought amongst them.

But to return to the _Perry_ galley, which the pirates carried to the
Island of Aruba, a maroon or uninhabited island, or rather sand bank,
where they sat the crew ashore and left them for seventeen days without
any provision, except that the surgeon of the pirate now and then
brought them something in his pocket by stealth. On the tenth of
December the pirates saw a sail which proved to be a Dutch sloop, which
they took, and on board this Upton and two others who had been forced as
well as himself were put, from whence as he said, they made their
escape. After abundance of misfortunes and many extraordinary
adventures, he got on board his Majesty's ship _Nottingham_, commanded
by Captain Charles Cotterel, where he served for two years in the
quality of quartermaster. He was then taken up and charged with piracy,
upon which he was indicted at an Admiralty sessions held in the month of
May, 1729, when the evidence at his trial appeared so strong that after
a short stay the jury found him guilty.

But his case having been very differently represented, I fancy my
readers will not be displeased if I give them an exact account of the
proofs produced against him.

The first witness who was called on the part of the Crown was Mr.
Dimmock, who had been chief mate on board the _Perry_ galley, and he
deposed in the following terms:

On the twelfth of November, 1725, we sailed from Barbadoes on the
_Perry_ galley bound for England. On the 14th, about noon, we were
taken by the _Night Rambler_, pirate sloop, one Cooper commander.
Our captain and four men were ordered on board the pirate sloop,
part of the pirate's crew coming also on board the _Perry._ Wherein
they no sooner entered, but the prisoner at the bar said, _Lads, are
ye come? I'm glad to see ye; I have been looking out for ye for a
great while._ Whereupon the pirates saluted him very particularly,
calling him by his name, and the prisoner was as busy as any of the
rest in plundering and stripping the ship on board of which he had
served, and the rest who belonged to it, the very next day after
being made boatswain of the pirate. The same day I was carried on
board the pirate sloop, tied to the gears and received two hundred
lashes with a cat o' nine tails which the prisoner Upton had made
for that purpose; after which they pickled me, and the prisoner
Upton stabbed me in the head near my ear with a knife, insomuch that
I could not lay my head upon a pillow for fourteen days, but was
forced to support it upon my hand against the table; and when some
of the pirate's crew asked me how I did, upon my answering that I
was as bad as a man could be and live, the prisoner, Upton, said
_D----n him, give him a second reward._

It was also further deposed by the same gentleman that at the island of
Aruba, the prisoner was very busy in stripping the _Perry_ galley of the
most useful and valuable parts of her rigging, carrying them on board
the pirate, and making use of them there. He had also in his custody
several things of value, and particularly wearing apparel, belonging to
one Mr. Furnell, a passenger belonging to the said _Perry_ galley; and
when it was debated amongst the pirates, and afterwards put to the vote,
whether the crew of the said galley should have their vessel again or
no, John Upton was not only against them, but also proposed burning the
said vessel, and tying the captain and mate to one of the masts in order
to their being burnt too.

Mr. Eaton, the second mate of the ship, was the next witness called. He
confirmed all that had been sworn by Mr. Dimmock, adding that the day
they were taken the pirates asked if he would consent to sign their
articles, which he refused. Whereupon they put a rope about his neck,
and hoisted him up to the yard's arm, so that he totally lost his
senses. He recovered them by some of the pirate's crew pricking him in
the fleshy parts of his body, while others beat him with the flat of
their swords. As soon as they perceived he was a little come to himself
they put the former question to him, whether he would sign their
articles. He answered, _No_, a second time. One of the crew thereupon
snatched up a pistol, and swore he would shoot him through the head; but
another of them said, _No, d----n him, that's too honourable a death; he
shall be hanged._ Upon this they pulled him up by the rope again, and
treated him with many other indignities, and at last in the captain's
cabin, pulled a cap over his eyes and clapped a pistol to his head; then
he expected nothing but immediate death, a person having almost jabbed
his eye out with the muzzle of the pistol, but at last they did let him
go. He swore, also, that when the pirates' articles were presented to
him to sign, he saw there the name of John Upton, he being well
acquainted with his hand.

Mr. Furnell, a passenger in the ship, was the third evidence against the
prisoner. He deposed to the same effect with the other two, adding that
John Upton was more cruel and barbarous to them than any of the other
pirates, insomuch that when they were marooned, and under the greatest
necessities for food, Upton said, _D----n them, let them be starved_,
and was the most active of all the rest in taking the goods, and
whatever he could lay his hands on out of the _Perry_ galley.

In his defence the prisoner would fain have suggested that what the
witnesses had sworn against him was chiefly occasioned by a malicious
spleen they had against him. He asserted that he was forced by the
pirates to become one of their number and was so far from concerned with
them voluntarily that he proposed to the mate, after they were taken, to
regain the ship, urging that there were but thirteen of the pirates on
board, and they all drunk, and no less than nine of their own men left
there who were all sober; that the mate's heart failed him, and instead
of complying with his motion, said, _This is a dangerous thing to speak
of; if it should come to the pirates' ears we shall be all murdered_,
and therefore entreated the prisoner not to speak of it any more. The
mate denied every syllable of this, and so the prisoner's assertions did
not weigh at all with the jury. After they had brought in their verdict,
Mr. Upton said to those who swore against him, _Lord! What have you
three done?_

Under sentence of death he behaved himself with much courage, and yet
with great penitence. He denied part of the charge, viz., that he was
willingly one of the pirates, but as to the other facts, he confessed
them with very little alteration. He averred that the course of his life
had been very wicked and debauched, for which he expressed much sorrow,
and to the day of his death behaved himself with all outward mark of
true repentance. At the place of execution, he was asked whether he had
not advised the burning of the _Perry_ galley, with Captain King and the
chief mate on board. He averred that he did not in any shape whatsoever
either propose or agree to an act of such a sort. Then, after some
private devotions, he submitted to his sentence, and was turned off on
the 16th day of May, 1729, being then about fifty years of age.




The Life of JEPTHAH BIGG, an Incendiary, and Writer of Threatening
Letters


I have already taken notice in the life of Bryan Smith[85] of the Act of
Parliament on which the proceedings against these letter-writers are
grounded. One would be surprised that after more examples than one of
that kind, people should yet be found so foolish as well as wicked as to
carry on so desperate an enterprise, in which there is scarce any
probability of meeting with success; yet this unfortunate person of whom
we are now to speak, who was descended of mean parents, careful however
of giving him a very good education, fell upon this project, put into
his head by being a little out of business, and so in one moment
cancelled all his former honesty and industry, and hazarded a life which
soon after became forfeited.

His friends had put him out apprentice to a gunstock maker, to which he
served out his time honestly and with a good character. Afterwards he
continued to work at his business with several masters and tolerable
reputation, until about a year before the time of his death, when he was
out of work, by reason he had disobliged two or three persons for whom
he had wrought, and had also been guilty of some extravagancies which
had brought him into narrow circumstances. These straits it is to be
supposed put him upon the fatal project of writing a letter to Mr.
Nathaniel Newman, senior, a man of a very good fortune, threatening him
that unless he sent the sum of eighty-five guineas to such a place, he
would murder him and his wife, with other bloody and barbarous
expressions. This not having its effect, he wrote him a second letter by
the penny post, demanding one hundred guineas, with grievous
threatenings in case they were not sent. This soon made a very great
noise about town, and put Mr. Newman upon all methods possible for
detecting the author of these villainous epistles, and as everybody
almost looked upon it as a common case, to which any gentleman who is
supposed to be rich might be liable, such indefatigable pains were taken
that in a short time the whole mystery of iniquity was discovered and
Bigg apprehended.

At the next sessions at the Old Bailey he was indicted capitally for
this offence, and after the counsel for the prosecutor had fully opened
the heinous nature of the crime, Peter Salter was the first witness
called to prove it upon the prisoner. He deposed that Jepthah Bigg came
to him where he was at work in the Minories, and desired him to go with
him, having something to say to him of consequence; whereupon the
witness would have gone to the sign of the Ship where he used, but the
prisoner would needs go to the Sieve in the Little Minories. There he
communicated to him his design, and then prevailed on Salter to go to
the Shoulder of Mutton alehouse at Billingsgate, where Bigg directed him
to call for drink, and to wait until a porter came to him with a parcel
directed to John Harrison, when if he suspected anything, he should come
to the prisoner at the King's Head alehouse, on Fish Street Hill. This
the evidence performed punctually, whereupon Bigg sent him a second
time to the Blackboy, in Goodman's Fields, where a second parcel was
left, though of no value. Whereupon Bigg would have had the evidence
Salter concerned in a third letter to the same purpose, but Salter
declined it and dissuaded him as much as lay in his power, from
continuing to venture on such hazardous things. Upon which the prisoner
replied, _You need not fear. Nothing can hurt you; my life is in your
hands; but if ever you reveal the matter, you shall share the same
fate._

John Long, servant to Mr. Newman, deposed that he delivered two penny
post letters to his master on the 20th and 27th of March. Other
witnesses swore as to the sending of the parcels, and the jury on the
whole, seeing the fact to be well proved against the prisoner, found him
guilty.

Under sentence of death at first the poor man behaved himself like one
stupid. He pretended that he did not know the offence that he had
committed was capital, and afterwards exclaimed against the hardness of
the Law which made it so; but some little pains being taken with him in
those points, he was soon brought over to acknowledge the justice of his
sentence, and the reasonableness of that Statute which enacted it into a
capital offence.

As the day of his death drew nigh he was still more and more drowned in
stupidity and lost to all thought or concern for this world or that to
come, at least as to outward appearance. Some said he was a Roman
Catholic, but while the poor wretch retained his senses, he said nothing
that could give any ground for a suspicion of that sort. He heard the
discourses which the Ordinary made to him, with as much patience as the
rest did, and when he visited him in the cell, did not express any
uneasiness thereat. Indeed, in the passage to execution, there were two
fellows in the cart who would fain have had the minister desist from his
duty, urging the same reason, that the criminal was in communion with
another Church. The man, himself, seemed stupid and speechless all the
way, yet when he was turned off, the reverend Ordinary tells us, he went
off the stage crying out aloud, _O Lord! etc._ This seems to me a very
indecent way of concluding a dying speech, but as it is that which is
generally used, I shall not stay to bestow any further reflections upon
it. He died on the 19th of May, 1729, being about twenty-five years of
age.

FOOTNOTES:

[85] See page 221.




The Life of THOMAS JAMES GRUNDY, a Housebreaker


When we meet with accounts of persons doubly remarkable for the
multitude of their offences and the tenderness of their age, it is
almost impossible for us to determine whether we should most pity or
detest a mind so preternaturally abandoned to wickedness as to transcend
its usual course, and make itself remarkable as a sinner, before taken
notice of as a man.

This was exactly the case with the unfortunate criminal whom we are now
to mention. He was the son of parents in the lowest circumstances, who
yet had strained those circumstances to give him a tolerable education,
which he, instead of improving, forgot as fast as it was possible, and
seemed solicitous about nothing but out-doing in villainy all his
contemporaries of the same unhappy cast. During his junior years he
addicted himself continually to picking and stealing whatever he could
lay his hands on, and although his father had been exceedingly careful
in causing him to be taught his own trade of a weaver, yet he seldom or
never worked at it, but went on at this rate, from one crime to another,
until he at last arrived at those which brought him to the ignominious
end, and thereby rendered him a subject for our memoirs.

At twelve years old, he took up the trade of housebreaking, to which he
applied himself very closely, for the last six years of his life.
Hampstead, Highgate, Hackney, and other villages round the town were the
places which he generally made choice of to play his tricks in, and as
people are much more ingenious in wickedness than ever they are in the
pursuit of honest employments, so by degrees he became (even while a
boy) the most dexterous housebreaker of his time; insomuch that as is
usual amongst those unhappy people, the gang commended him so much, that
believing himself some great person, he went on with an air of
confidence, in the commission of a multitude of burglaries, in and about
the streets of this metropolis.

Young as he was at that time, he plunged himself, as it were with
industry, into all manner of lusts, wickedness and illegal pleasures,
which, as it wasted all he acquired by the thefts he committed, so it
injured his health and damaged his understanding to such a degree that
when he came to die, he could scarce be looked on as a rational
creature.

The offence which proved fatal to him was the breaking into the house of
Mr. Samuel Smith, in the night-time, on the 31st of May, 1729, with an
intent to steal. At his trial the prosecutor swore that between the
hours of eleven and one of the dock of the night laid in the indictment
he was called up by his neighbours, and found that his window was broken
open; whereupon, searching about very narrowly, he at last found the
prisoner got up the chimney, and landing on the pole whereon the
pothooks hung. In his defence the prisoner told the Court that meeting
with a person who said he lodged in the prosecutor's house, and it being
late, he accepted the man's proposition to lie with him; thereupon his
new acquaintance carried him to Mr. Smith's, let him in, and then ran
away, so that he had never seen or heard of him since. This relation
being every way improbable and ridiculous, the jury very readily found
him guilty of the fact, and he with the rest, on the last day of the
sessions received sentence of death accordingly.

While he lay in the cells, his behaviour was as stupid in all outward
appearance as ever had appeared in any who came to that miserable place.
However, he persuaded his companions, of whom we shall speak hereafter,
to attempt breaking out and to encourage them told them that there was
no brick or free stone wall in the world could keep him in, if he had
but a few tools proper for loosening the stones. These were quickly
procured, and Grundy put his companions into so proper a method of
working, that if a discovery had not been made on the Sunday morning in
a very few hours space they would have broken their way into Phoenix
Court, and so have undoubtedly got off. But as soon as the keepers came
to the knowledge of their design, they removed the three persons
concerned in it, into the old condemned hold, and there stapled them
down to the ground.

Then this lad began to repent. He wept bitterly, but said it was not so
much for the fear of death as the apprehension of his soul being thrown
into the pit of destruction and eternal misery. However, by degrees, he
recovered a little spirit, confessed all the enormities of his past
life, and begged pardon of God, and of the persons whom he had injured.
If we were to attempt an account of them, it would not only seem
improbable but incredible; and therefore, as there was nothing in them
otherwise extraordinary than as they were committed by a lad of his age,
we shall not dwell any longer upon them than to inform our readers that
with much sorrow, and grievous agonies, he expired at Tyburn, on the
22nd of August, 1729, being about eighteen years old.




The Life of JOSEPH KEMP, a Housebreaker


We have often, in the course of these lives, observed to our readers
that loose women are generally the causes of those misfortunes which
first bring men to the commission of felonious crimes, and, as a just
consequence thereof, to an ignominious death. It may yet seem strange,
how, after so many instances, there are still to be found people so weak
as for the sake of the caresses of these strumpets to lavish away their
lives, at the same time that they are putting their souls into the
greatest hazard. If I may be allowed to offer my conjecture in this
case, I should be apt to account for it thus: that in the present age,
the depravity of men's morals being greater than ever, they addict
themselves so entirely to their lusts and sensual pleasures that having
no relish left for more innocent entertainments, they think no price too
great to purchase those lewd enjoyments, to which, by a continued series
of such actions, they have habituated themselves beyond their own power
to retire.

This unfortunate person, Joseph Kemp, was son to people in very mean
circumstances, in Holborn, who yet procured him a very good education in
a public charity-school. When of age to be put out to employment, his
friends made him apply himself to the heads of the parish, who put him
out to a glazier, with whom he served out his time with the character of
a very honest young man. By that time his parents had thriven pretty
well in the world through their own industry, and so, on his setting up
a shop, they gave him sixty pounds to begin with. But unfortunately for
him, he had ere now seen a woman of the town, on whom he had
irretrievably fixed his affections, and was absolutely resolved on
living with her, though ever so great ruin should prove the consequence
of the purchase.

In pursuance of this unfortunate resolution, he no sooner had received
the aforesaid sum, but proposals of marriage were immediately offered to
this object of his affections, notwithstanding that he well knew she at
that time conversed with two men, styling each of them her husband.
However, as Kemp was the most likely to maintain her in idleness and
plenty, she, without much trouble, suffered herself to be prevailed on
to let him, by a legal matrimony, increase the number of her husbands.
This, as it was but probable, was speedily followed by his breaking in
his business, and being totally undone, which, though it was a great
misfortune, and an evil new to poor Kemp, only reduced the lady to her
former manner of living, which was by thieving whatever she could come
at. A little while after, she was ruined even in this business, for
being detected, she was committed to Newgate, and was in great danger of
lying there for life. Poor Kemp was still as fond of her as ever. He
carried her all the money he could get, and lamenting to her that it was
not in his power to raise more, she immediately flew into a passion,
stormed and swore at him, bid him go and break houses, rob people in the
streets, or do anything which would get money, for money she wanted and
money she would have. He foolishly complied with her request and having
provided himself with the necessary implements for housebreaking, he
soon put her in possession of a large quantity of plate, which being
converted into money, easily procured her liberty, the consequence of
which was that she lavished whatever he brought her upon other men.

Yet even her perfidy could not cure him; he was still as much her slave
as ever, and failed not venturing body and soul to procure whatever
might give her pleasure. In this unhappy state a considerable space of
time was spent, until, for some other thievish exploits of her own,
Kemp's wife was apprehended, convicted and transported. One would have
thought this might have put an end to his crimes of the same sort, but
it seems he was too far plunged into the mire of rapine and debauchery
ever to struggle out, so that no sooner was she safely on board the
transport vessel but he found out a new mistress to supply her place; as
if he had been industrious in destroying his fortune and careful about
nothing but arriving as soon as possible at the gallows.

By the time he made his second marriage, which in itself was illegal
while the first wife was living, his credit was totally exhausted, his
character totally ruined, and no manner of subsistence left but what was
purchased at the hazard of his soul and the price of his life; and as
housebreaking was now become his sole business, so he pursued it with
great eagerness, and for a while with as great success. But it was not
long before he was apprehended, and committed close to Newgate for a
multitude of charges of this kind against him.

At the following sessions at the Old Bailey, he was indicted for
burglariously breaking open the house of Sarah Pickard, and feloniously
taking thence thirty-six gold rings and stone rings, three silver
watches, several pieces of silver plate, and divers other goods of
considerable value. The prosecutrix, Mrs. Pickard, deposed that her
house was fast shut between then and eleven o'clock at night, and found
broken open at five of the clock the next morning, and that one Kemp, a
person related to the prisoner, found a short strong knife left in the
yard, together with an auger, which he knew to belong to the prisoner.

In confirmation of this Mr. Kemp deposed that the prisoner had shown him
the knife; Joanna Kemp and Jonathan Auskins deposed likewise to the same
thing, and Samuel Gerrard, the constable, swore that when with the two
preceding witnesses he went to search the house of the aforesaid
prisoner, and found therein several things belonging to Mrs. Pickard,
the prisoner then confessed that he committed burglary alone and not by
the persuasion or with the assistance of any other person whatsoever.

The prisoner said very little in his own defence, and the jury
thereupon, without hesitation, found him guilty; as they did also upon
two other indictments, the one for breaking the house of James Wood, and
the other for breaking the house of Mrs. Mary Paget, and stealing thence
plate to a considerable value; the facts being dearly proved by John
Knap, who had been an accomplice, and turned evidence to save himself.
His last wife was indicted and tried with him, but acquitted.

Under sentence of death he was seized with a disease which held him for
the greater part of the time permitted by Law for him to repent, and by
reason of that distemper he was so deaf that he was scarce capable of
instruction. However, he appeared to be fully sensible of the great
danger he was in, of suffering much more from the just anger of God than
that sentence of the Law which his crimes had drawn upon him. He
bewailed with much passion and concern that wicked course of life which
for many years past he had led, seemed exceedingly grieved at the horror
of those reflections, and to mourn with unfeigned penitence his
forgetfulness of the duties he owed towards God, and to his neighbours.
As the hour of death approached, he resumed somewhat of courage, and at
the place of execution died with all outward marks of a repenting
sinner.

His wife came up into the cart and took her last adieu of him, in the
most tender manner that can be imagined. He died on the 24th of August,
1729, being then in the twenty-fourth year of his age, and left behind
him the following paper, which seems to have been what he intended to
have said to the people at the time of his death, and therefore we,
according to custom, thought it not proper to be omitted in this
account.

THE PAPER

Good People,

My father and mother brought me up tenderly and honestly, and always
gave me good advice, whilst I was under their care. They put me
apprentice to a glazier. My master not being so careful of me as he
ought to have been, I took to ill courses, and before my time was
expired, married a woman that brought me to this untimely end; for
she could not live upon what I got at my trade, and out of my
over-fondess for her, I did whatever she required, or requested of
me. At length she was taken up for some fact, and transported. Then
I married a second wife, and she was as good as the other was bad.
She would do anything to help to support me that I might not commit
any wickedness, but I could not take her advice, but still ran on in
my wicked course of life, till I was overtaken by my folly. For if
we think ourselves safe in committing sin, God will certainly find
such out, because He is just, and will punish accordingly. This my
miserable end, I would have all take warning by, and that they
follow not the devices of the world, the snares whereof are apt to
lead men into evil courses, unless they endeavour to shun them, and
seek the grace of God to assist and enable them for the good of all
men, and ask pardon of God for my evil doings, and forgiveness of
all whom I have wronged, and particularly the forgiveness of God to
those who have sworn away my life. I beg reflections pass not upon
my wife, for I declare, whatever wrongs she may have committed, was
through my persuasion, of herself being inclinable to good. I would
lastly request that the follies and vices which have brought me to
this untimely end may not by any means be a cause to afflict my
grievous parents, both father and mother, but would have all to
consider when ever they are persuaded to any manner of ways, tending
to their ruin, they would likewise remember to call upon God to help
and assist them, in shunning such, and all other wicked courses.
Good people, pray for me, that God may receive me through his
mercies, which I trust he will.

Newgate, August 22nd, 1729.

Joseph Kemp