From Ralph Wilson’s A Full and Impartial Account of all the Robberies committed by JOHN HAWKINS, GEORGE SYMPSON, and their companions (1722)
The gang of highwaymen led by Jack Hawkins terrorized London in the early 1720s, until it was broken up by the self-styled Thief-taker General, Jonathan Wild, using techniques of interviewing and intimidating suspects still used by police forces today. Wilson, who confessed and acted as witness against his comrades in return for his own life, wrote this account of his introduction to Hawkins and crime, and the methods and tactics the gang used.
John Hawkins, who by his many robberies has made himself as famous in England as Cartouche was in France, at his death was 30 years old: he was born of very honest parents, but poor; his father was a farmer, and lived at Staines in Middlesex. His education had been but very slender, for at 14 he waited on a gentleman; but leaving him, he became tapster’s boy at the Red-Lyon at Brentford, where he continued till he got another gentleman’s service: but being of an unsettled temper, he seldom tarried long in a place. The last family he was in, was Sir Dennis Dutry’s, whom he served as butler: he has often told me, if he had continued in that station, he might soon have been master of very happy circumstances; for being an handsome creditable servant, he was well liked and approved of both by his master and lady. But as he was conscious of those his personal perfections, like all the gentry of the blue-cloth,1 he soon became very assuming, so that he thought it but a small fault to be out two or three nights in a week at the gaming-tables, which were his destruction, as they are of all others who frequent them. These are the nurseries of all our highway-men: here it is that young fellows being stript of all their money, are prepared for the most desperate of enterprizes. So it was with Hawkins, who by the repeated neglects of his master’s business, having incensed the family against him, was turned off, not without a just suspicion of having first been a confederate in robbing his master’s house of a considerable value in plate. This he never owned to me, but acknowledged he had pawned an old-fashioned piece of Dutch plate of Sir Dennis’s which he valued very much.
Having spoiled his character, he looked no more after a place; attending the gaming-tables was all his business, till he was reduced to such necessity that he wanted bread. In this melancholy condition, the Devil, who is ever ready upon such occasions, put it into his head that he must relieve himself by plundering his fellow-subjects. This he resolved to do, and, in order thereto, musters all his interest to procure an horse and a case of pistols.
He was now 24. His first expedition was to Hounslow-Heath, where he stopp’d a coach, and eased the passengers of about 11l. With this booty he returned safe to London. Now every body wou’d imagine that he, who so lately had tasted of the bitter cup of affliction, wou’d have applied this money to a proper use: instead of that, he repaired immediately to the King’s-Head by Temple-Bar, and threw it all off.
Thus he went on a pretty while by himself, losing at play what he got upon the highway…
I [Ralph Wilson] shall now say something of myself. I am now 22, and was brought up at Kirkleatham in Cleveland, Yorkshire, at the school built there by Sir William Turner, formerly Lord-Mayor of London. At 17 I left the school, and was put clerk to Mr Dixon of Lincoln’s-Inn, a very eminent and honest practitioner in chancery, whose advice, if I had observed, no doubt I had at this day been very happy. But his business being very great, and my industry at that time very little, we could not agree: in short, Mr Dixon returned the money he received at our articling, and so we parted.
Amongst the rest of my acquaintance at the gaming-tables, I was singled out by this John Hawkins; we became great cronies, and were very seldom asunder, till he was taken upon suspicion of robbing a coach in Monmouth-street, of which he was acquitted, tho guilty. My mother at this time being reconciled to me, sent for me home to Whitby, where she lives. With her I tarried a twelvemonth; but being very desirous of coming to London again, I persuaded her to send me up, to try the law once more. She, who always encouraged any thing that looked like business in me, agreed to my request, and gave 100l. with me to Mr Sandys of Grange-Court. I had not been long with him before my old infection broke out, which swept away every thing I had, both money and clothes. By this extravagance making myself unfit for a clerk, I left Mr Sandys. Then it was I again met with my old friend John Hawkins: as yet I did not know directly what courses he followed, tho knowing he had no support from any relations, I suspected him very much; for which reason I began to withdraw myself from his company, for even at that time no man had a greater abhorrence of villany than myself.
Hawkins had now engaged with a fresh gang which was pretty numerous, one of which, Pocock, being apprehended, (according to custom) impeach’d all the rest. This impeachment dispersed the whole company, some to Ireland, others to Wales; and one Ralphson, to whose charge, as a trusty person, all the moveables were committed, thought it his best play to move off with the company’s stock into Holland. By this fraud, and the impeachment, Hawkins was left destitute both of money and companions, for every body had got out of town, except his brother Will Hawkins and James Wright; the first was taken upon Pocock’s information, and the last was in a salivation.1 Hawkins himself skulk’d about the town, not daring to appear where he was known, except at such houses as he could confide in; one of which I used, and there it was I was first in his company after this matter broke out; for he having a great opinion that I would not prejudice him for the sake of reward, was not afraid to see me. In a few days Hawkins and I were together as often as ever, from whom I learnt every thing I have related. Some things I have omitted, as that he was present when Colonel Floyer shot Wooldridge; he told me also that it was he that shot General Evans’s servant: he has often lamented his misfortune, that he should be guilty of that murder. He would, when he got into company with a clergyman, or any other learned person, be always asking some casuistical questions upon cases parallel to his own, which was this: Hawkins stopt the General and another gentleman in a coach, with this footman behind; the General fired at him, and so did the gentleman: upon this, Hawkins shot directly into the coach at them, but killed the footman behind. Now Hawkins fancy’d this was no murder, because he had no design against the deceased. But he was always told his design against the master made him as culpable as if he had intended it against the man, whom he killed peradventure. I was very fond of Hawkins’s company, because I took much pleasure in hearing him speak of his merry pranks and many robberies. Wright being now recover’d, he and Hawkins fell to their old game, and when they came home at night, I used to drink with them. The first robbery they committed after this re-union, was upon the Earl of Burlington and Lord Bruce in Richmond-Lane; they took from them 20l. two gold watches, and a saphire ring, which my Lord bid 100l. for to [Jonathan] Wild. This ring Hawkins pretended he could sell only for six pound; this seemed to the poor fellow to be a very good price, so that he gladly accepted of 3l. for his snack, tho Hawkins afterwards sold the same ring in Holland for 40l.
This Wright was born of very honest parents, and bred a barber; he was a man of the best temper and greatest fidelity to his companions I ever knew in an highwayman: how he became acquainted with Hawkins, I cannot say, but they two went on together after his salivation for about a month very prosperously before I engaged with them. It happen’d about this time, that meeting with a good-natur’d countryman, I borrowed 20 l. of him; this was a great novelty to me, who had been starving for some weeks past, notwithstanding that I made all the haste I could to the tables, and lost it every farthing. This ill luck made me rage like a madman, and was the first thing that made me capable of any impression from bad company. From the gaming-tables, I went to Hawkins and Wright. We had drunk ourselves to a good pitch, when Hawkins began a discourse about robbing in the streets, but said it could not be done without a third man, and ask’d me if I durst take a pistol, and mount a horse: I told him, Yes, as well as any man, and that the want of money had made me ready for any thing. Upon this, he who was always glad of new companions, and, I am satisfy’d, with a very bad intent, offered very kindly to get me a horse against the next night; I consented, and so we went to bed. The next morning I remembred what pass’d the night before, but resolved nothing less than to put what I had promised in execution: however, Hawkins was as good as his word.
When the night came, we fell to drinking again, and at a proper time of the night Hawkins told us all was ready; I being now as hot as the last night, and so in the same humour, objected nothing, but went away with them to the horses: we mounted about ten a-clock, and a little while after robbed Sir David Dalrymple by Winstanley’s water-works. It was put upon me to stop the coach by way of tryal, whether I was capable of being made a man of business; to my great misfortune, I performed my part so well, that Hawkins never cared to part with me afterwards.
We had but a very small booty from Sir David, I think about 3l. in money, a snuff-box and pocket-book, which Sir David offered 60l. for to Wild; but we returned it by a porter gratis, for we never dealt with Wild, neither did he know any of us.
The next morning after this robbery, it is impossible for me to express under what anxieties I labour’d, on a consideration that I had engaged in such base actions which I then apprehended, as I have found since, bring nothing but poverty and shame to him that follows them: besides, there is no life so gloomy as the life of an highwayman; he is a stranger to peace of mind and quiet sleep; he is made a property of, by every villain that knows or guesses at his circumstances: such a life is a hell to any man that has ever had any relish of a more generous way of living. But I was entred, and must go thorough; for Jack Hawkins, who before was all good humour and complaisance, was now become my tyrant: he gave himself a great deal of trouble to let me know, that I was as liable to be hang’d as he, and in all his actions express’d a satisfaction that he had me under a hank.1 I have great reason to believe that this pleasure of his did arise from his having one more added to his number, to make use of when his occasions required. The world may think I speak this to justify what I have lately done, but when they shall be apprized how vilely his brother has acted that part, and that such a method of saving their lives was always concerted beforehand between the two brothers, they will be of another opinion. In short, after this robbery I led a dog’s life, and was much against my will obliged to take every thing in good part, for fear, by quarrelling, of bringing us all into trouble…
These robberies had put me into a good condition, if the pernicious itch of gaming had not been so prevalent upon me; whatever movables we got, I sold my part to J. Hawkins and Wright, and play’d away the money. They two having made up a sufficient cargo, were determin’d for Holland: accordingly Hawkins had every thing that belonged to them in his hands, ready to go off with, except a watch which Wright was gone by himself to fetch out of pawn; we were to meet him at the Queen’s-Head upon Tower-Hill: but a messenger whom we sent beforehand to see how the land lay, brought us word that Wright was apprehended by Jonathan Wild, to whom he had been betray’d by one of his own acquaintance. This was a great alarm to us, for we were under a most violent apprehension that Wright would impeach us, but he proved himself to be quite another man.
Now Will. Hawkins and Wright were in prison together: the first being impeach’d, could not impeach; but the latter, if he had been inclined, might have taken that advantage to have saved his life: but he told Hawkins’s wife, that he would hurt nobody, much less her husband, because of his children. I shall have an opportunity presently to show how well this generosity was retaliated. In the mean time, Jack Hawkins and I were consulting where to conceal ourselves; at last we pitch’d upon Oxford, whither we walk’d a foot, and tarried there a month: in which time nothing remarkable happen’d, except that Hawkins defaced some pictures in the gallery above the Bodleian Library, for the discovery whereof the University bid 100l. A poor taylor, who had above measure distinguish’d himself for a Whig, was taken up and imprison’d for this fact, and very narrowly escaped a whipping.
By that time we had been a month at Oxford, the sessions at the Old-Bailey were ended; Will. Hawkins was discharged, and his friend Pocock hanged, but Wright was reserved till Kingston-Assizes. Jack Hawkins being very desirous to see his brother Will told me he design’d for London the next day, and that he was sorry he could not lend me money to go along with him, but that he would in two or three days send me 2l. and so he left me full of poverty and a bad conscience, two dismal companions. A little while after I received ten shillings from him, six whereof I ow’d at my quarters, which I paid, and with the rest set forwards to London a foot; when I arrived at London, I found that Jack and Will. Hawkins were gone for Holland with all Wright’s goods to the value of 50l. which they never gave him any account of, tho he was then starving in prison.
About the latter end of October, both the brothers returned from Holland to London, where we all joined; the most fatal joining I ever made in my life, for if I had not joined that heedless villain Will. Hawkins, in all probability I should not have been in this condition: but this cannot be recalled…
All this time we play’d least in sight our most convenient house was by London-Wall: this man knew all our circumstances, and in that knowledge found his account, for we seldom committed a robbery, but he had his snack by way of reckoning. We did not mind that, for as he kept a livery-stable, we had an opportunity of getting out at all times in the night; so that we harrass’d almost all the morning stage-coaches in England. One morning we robb’d the Cirencester, the Worcester, the Glocester, the Oxford and Bristol Stage-Coaches, all together; the next morning the Ipswich and Colchester, and a third morning perhaps the Portsmouth Coach. The Bury coach has been our constant customer; I think we have touch’d that coach ten times: for any of these, we never went further than the Stones-End; if we brought away their portmanteaus, we carried them to our old Cock C—, where we ransack’d them. I cannot help saying, that as this man participated of our prosperity, it is a pity he should not have his snack of our adversity; it would be of infinite service to the nation, if such a man could be sent abroad for better education. He has undone several young fellows, by spurring them to such actions as bring them to the gallows.
Our evening exercises were generally between Hampstead, Hackney, Bow, Richmond and London, and behind Buckingham wall, etc. We three committed numberless robberies, for Sympson was a stout brisk man, so that we carried every thing on with great success, and might have lived in that unhappy way several years, if we had not meddled with the mails, which are certain destruction to any body that rob them. Not one has escaped yet, that ever meddled with them…
Notwithstanding that my crimes have been great enough, yet those crimes have received great aggravations from flying reports; which I should not have taken notice of, but that I am willing to set the truth in a clear light. The first thing which surprizes me most, is, that it has been confidently reported by several news-writers, that my companions and self were guilty of that horrid fact of cutting the woman’s tongue out, because she happen’d to stand by when we robb’d the Bury-coach, and knew us; and that I have acknowledged the same. In the first place, I never acknowledged any such thing; and in the next place, I can prove by things taken away from that coach in Whitechapel the same morning this fact is said to be done, that we were not the men; for doubtless the people to whom these things are restored, would not have been silent, if any such thing had been done by us: besides, this barbarity was given out to be committed beyond Epping, which is ten miles beyond the place where we committed the robbery.
Another thing is related of me, which I have no occasion to take notice of, any further than that ’tis false, that is, that I have impeach’d 22 men; for if I had, it had been the greatest justice in me to impeach all as well as the two I have impeach’d, if any more had been concern’d with me…
It has also been laid to my charge, That I made it my frequent practice to ravish the ladies whom we robb’d: I cannot think what wise person trump’d up this story, it appears to me the most nonsensical one I ever heard; for as we always robb’d the coaches within four miles of the town, and very early in the evening or morning, when we had all our hands full in dismounting the horsemen who were upon the road, I cannot see any room for such an action. Besides, I defy any person to show that there has been any such thing done by any body within these five years, which is the longest time I have been in this town.
The next great charge is, That I used cruelties to any gentleman we robb’d: how false this is, I appeal to several gentlemen who have been robb’d by us; some in particular, who have been to see me, remember me for the great civility I showed above my companions.
The last and most heavy charge, is, That I am an atheist, a blasphemer and an irreligious fellow: The two first characters I utterly disclaim, and challenge any of my acquaintance to say I ever made use of any atheistical or blasphemous expressions. As to the last, indeed I cannot say much; for how is it possible that a man in such a course of wickedness could frequent divine service, or perform other duties of religion? Would it not be the greatest mockery for a man to pretend any such thing, when in his own conscience he design’d to commit robberies immediately after? I think no man can be truly religious, till he purposes to lead a new life; which I am resolutely bent upon, by the assistance of Almighty God.