The Newgate Calendar - Supplement 3
THE first of these obtained the name of the Golden Tinman, for a similar reason to that which procured another the name of the Golden Farmer. Similar also to the Golden Farmer, he scorned to be under obligations to any other man in the way of his business, or risk his neck in the hands of one that might choose to save his own. Our adventurer had carried on his depredations in town and country until he was notorious in both. Being apprehended, and sentenced, his money procured him a pardon, but it did not produce any reformation; for he renewed his depredations. It was not long before he met again a serious interruption by being requested to pay a visit to Newgate.
Nor was he so fortunate in finding an avaricious prosecutor, for no money would induce this one to turn aside the current of justice. His former pardon induced him to hope for a second; so that, while the ordinary was admonishing him to prepare for death, he would interrupt him with the inquiry, "Do you believe I can obtain a pardon?" "I don't know, indeed." "But you know one Counsellor ——; pray make use of your interest with him, and see whether you can get him to save me; I'll not be ungrateful, doctor."
The Ordinary was greatly troubled at his conduct, but he still persevered in his sacred duty. One day the criminal opened his breast to the doctor, and, showing the many scars which he had received, he said, "And will not these, good doctor, and the severe pain I have endured in their cure, in some sort lessen the heinousness of the crimes that I have committed?" "No," said the doctor, "what evils have fallen upon you in such expeditions, you have drawn upon yourself, and you are not to imagine that these will, in any degree, make amends for the multitude of your offences. You had much better clear your conscience by a full and ingenuous confession of your crimes, and prepare in earnest for another world, since I dare assure you, that there is no hope of your being permitted to remain in this any longer."
When his hopes of a reprieve had vanished, his natural courage failed, and he experienced all the terrors of an awakened conscience, and the dreadful foreboding of coming misery. It was reported that he was concerned in the murder of one Hull; but that he denied to the very last moment. And to the ordinary, a few moments before his death, pointing to the rope, he said, "As you see this instrument of death about me, what I say is the real truth." He died seemingly penitent.
Robert Cane was naturally of an active rambling turn of mind, and though his parents bound him apprentice to two different trades, he would settle at neither. He at last went to sea; and the ship in which he sailed having captured a Spanish vessel of prodigious value, he received a very large sum as his share of the prize-money, which, however, did not serve his extravagancies long. He soon emptied his pockets, and then had recourse to unlawful means to replenish them. Not long after this, Robert became enamoured of a virtuous young woman, who was a stranger to his character and crimes. She was soon prevailed upon to consent to marry him, but he pretended that it behoved to be done privately, not to offend his relations. Not having money sufficient to procure a license, he one evening went with the determination to procure some. Accordingly, he attacked a man in the streets, a little the worse for liquor, and stripped him of his hat and coat. The hue and cry was immediately raised. Cane was apprehended, and, instead of raising money to be married, he procured his death in an ignominious manner.
While he lay in Newgate, the miserable young woman constantly visited him, and bewailed his situation; and even her mother became sick, and was confined to bed on account of the wretched situation of her intended son-in-law. When the day that was to terminate his crimes and his sufferings approached, he bitterly bemoaned his vicious courses, and the sorrow which they had occasioned to his intended wife, and her poor mother. He read a paper at the place of execution, containing a confession of his crimes, a vindication of the character of his bride, and a profession of his faith, and of universal good-will to all mankind. He died in the twenty-second year of his age.
Richard Shepherd was born of respectable parents in the city of Oxford, and received an education suitable to their circumstances; but he had so totally forgot what he had been taught, that he knew neither the Lord's Prayer nor the Creed, at the time when he had most need of them.
He was trained to the profession of a butcher, and, becoming attached to an industrious, sober, young woman, he was married before his apprenticeship was finished. But though his marriage was kept secret for some time, yet it was at length discovered by his master, who lessened his weekly wages, and constrained him to grant a bond for twenty-eight pounds, which proved his ruin. Unable to support himself and his wife, while he had so considerable a sum to accumulate for his master. Shepherd was easily persuaded by vicious companions, to hazard both his conscience and his life, to procure what has been justly termed the "root of all evil." They began by housebreaking; but in his new occupation he was so unfortunate, that in his second or third attempt he was apprehended, and, being tried, was condemned; but his friends, on account of his youth, and in the hope of amendment, procured his pardon.
But in his, as in almost every similar case, clemency wrought no reformation in his morals; he returned to his former employment, and, being detected, saved his life by turning evidence against others. No unhappy criminal had ever more indulgence than Shepherd, or more warnings of his miserable fate; but, under the influence of confirmed vice, what are advices! what are terrors! and what even the sight of death itself? He had scarcely procured his liberty, when he returned to his former ways, was detected, and suffered the due demerit of his crimes.
Thomas Charnock had a short journey to Tyburn. He was soberly and religiously educated, and, when arrived at maturity, placed in a respectable mercantile house; but, desirous to make a figure above his station, he robbed his master, and soon cut a very miserable figure at Tyburn.
The very narration, and still more the sight, of so many young men, in the bloom and vigour of their lives, suffering an untimely death, is peculiarly painful to human feelings.