CHAPTERCXXXI.

CHAPTERCXXXI.THIEVES AND RECEIVERS.The receiver of stolen goods, from whose establishment Charles Peace had so cunningly contrived to make his escape, was an average sample of his class.There are hundreds, and, indeed it may be said, thousands of persons of this description in the metropolis and the suburbs.It has been remarked by many who have a pretty good knowledge of characters of this description that without receivers there would be no thieves, but we do not quite agree with this hypothesis. Thieves it is not possible to eradicate, but certainly the receivers offer every inducement for men to pursue dishonest courses, and it is most remarkable how few are ever brought to justice.One of the most celebrated men of his time was a Jew, named “Ikey Solomons.”He flourished some forty or fifty years ago, and his transactions with thieves of every description were of a magnitude which appeared at the time to be almost incredible and are said to have rivalled those of the famous Jonathan Wild.When quite an old man “Ikey” came to grief. He had up to the time of his capture followed his nefarious calling for over half a century, and had managed some how or other to escape detection.He was tried at the Old Bailey, but was, to the best of our belief, acquitted.It has been said that Dickens drew his character of Fagin, in “Oliver Twist,” from the celebrated Ikey Solomons, but we are not disposed to give credence to this statement, as Ikey was, beyond the fact of his being a Jew “fence,” in every way dissimilar to Dickens’s hero.When the name of Charles Peace was in every human mouth public interest was awakened by the spoils of a receiver of stolen property falling into the hands of the police.The following paragraph, from a newspaper of the period, will, perhaps, interest the curious and inquisitive reader. It runs as follows:—“There is at present, at the Bethnal-green Police-station, under the charge of Inspector Wildey, of the Criminal Investigation Department, attached to the K division, and Detective-sergeants Rolfe and Wallis, about one of the most extraordinary collections of stolen property ever seen in this metropolis.“The goods are laid out in the library and reserve-room of the station, and consist of articles of almost every conceivable kind—​at least as far as things of a portable nature are concerned.No.69.Illustration: PEACE AND THE CABMANPEACE AND THE CABMAN HAVE A LIQUOR AT THE ELEPHANT AND CASTLE.“First come some dozen or so of gold watches, from the ordinary Geneva to the highly finished and expensive article from the shop of some first-class London maker; then come silver watches, gold bracelets, lockets, chains, and guards, rings set with precious stones, silver spoons, forks, and fruit-knives.“On another table is a quantity of really good electro-plate—​one set of forks, spoons, ladles,&c., being marked with the letter B, and are supposed to have been the proceeds of some burglary committed a year or two back.“On a table in the middle of the room are strewn cigar-cases, meerschaum pipes, small fancy thermometers, mantel ornaments of a superior kind, opera glasses, books, photograph cases and albums, some with portraits and some without, a large family Bible, a silver snuff-box (‘presented to Sergeant Tierney by Mr. and Mrs. Maitland’), Crimean medal, with the Balaclava and Sebastopol clasps, the property of Private Wilson, of the Royal Marines; and three boxes, each containing a dozen silver thimbles.“On the mantelpiece are some half-a-dozen clocks, some of them of a very expensive kind, and evidently taken from the house of well-to-do people.“Around the room are scattered coats, jackets, capes, shawls, rolls of flannel, cloth, and linen, about fifty or sixty pairs of new boots, and any number of umbrellas.“Piled up against the wall are some sixty or seventy workboxes of various sizes and kinds, from the humble article costing only a few shillings to the more expensive article, which probably cost five or ten guineas.“Cases of claret, champagne, and brandy, railway and carriage rugs, and a host of other things much too numerous to mention, but which do not form a tithe of the bulk of property originally seized—​the whole lot, indeed, filling three large vans.“These things were seized about eight weeks ago by Inspector Wildey, in company with Sergeants Rolfe and Wallis, at a house in Thomas-street, Commercial-road, the proprietor of which has been, for the last twelve years, suspected by the police to be a receiver of stolen property, but so cleverly has he managed his business that until the last week there had been no chance of bringing anything home to him.“The way in which he was caught at last was as follows:—​Two men were apprehended on a charge of burglary, and one of them referred the police to this individual for a character. Inspector Wildey thereupon went to the house, and saw him, and he gave the man in question a most excellent character. From what he saw at the place, however, Mr. Wildey was induced to ask the magistrate for a search warrant, the result of which was that the whole of the property referred to was discovered there.“Already articles relating to no less than thirty-two cases of burglary or housebreaking have been identified among the things, and fresh identifications are occurring daily.“It is stated that seventeen years ago this modern Fagin was a poor labouring man, but he now owns some thirty houses in and about the district where he has been residing.”It is not often, as we before observed, that persons of this class are compelled to disgorge their ill-gotten gains, or come within the meshes of the net the law has woven for them.As a rule, they were by far too cautious and cunning to be caught napping.But occasionally, and only occasionally, is it that one of the fraternity gets into trouble, and even then he generally manages to slip out of the hands of justice.During the period between the trial and the execution of that eminent homicide and burglar the late Mr. Charles Peace, the public manifested a not unnatural curiosity to ascertain how he had managed to dispose of the great number of various articles which from time to time had come into his possession in the practice of a profitable but venturesome calling.This anxious pursuit of knowledge—​not altogether for its own sake—​on the part of the payers of police-rates ultimately reached the ears of Mr. Peace himself, who, apart from his homicidal and acquisitive tendencies, was, like most other musical amateurs, an amiable and obliging person.Finding there was not even a remote chance of breaking prison and escaping the attentions of Mr. Marwood, Mr. Peace supplied the police with a full and accurate list of purchasers of stolen property with whom he had had business transactions up and down the country.If we recollect rightly, a subsequent conditional promise was made on behalf of the guardians of order that the convict’s allegations should be thoroughly investigated, and that, if these were found accurate, the persons pointed at should be prosecuted with the utmost rigour of the law.Whether the promised inquiry was ever commenced we cannot say.It is, however, an indisputable fact that but for the existence of the class of individuals to whom Peace disposed of his booty, that adroit criminal might have earned an honest livelihood as violinist in an operatic or theatrical orchestra. The receivers are always ready to the hands of the thief.Even without the assistance of persons of Mr. Peace’s profession, the police know of their existence, their whereabouts, and their manner of prosecuting a most lucrative and not sufficiently dangerous trade; but, from a mistaken leniency in the spirit of our law, these worst of criminals are left undisturbed.The police—​often conveniently blind—​are nothing if not arithmetical. Armed with a note-book and a pencil, they penetrate into the most secret recesses of a guilty commerce, and, having tabulated the number of “fences” in England and Wales, complacently suffer wrong-doing to take its course.Either the crime of receiving stolen goods is on the increase, or the receivers are growing less fortunate; since the number of commitments for this specific offence was, according to the latest returns, four hundred and eighty in 1878, against four hundred and fifteen in 1877.On the other hand, the known houses for the receipt of stolen goods slightly vary numerically from year to year, the average being about one thousand one hundred, and the known thieves and receivers of stolen goods and suspected persons may be roughly estimated at close upon forty-one thousand.If the net of the law were spread, and these houses shut up and their occupants taken care of, crimes against property would at once fall to a minimum, the criminal courts would soon become idle, and respectable citizens might lie down to rest without fear of the “villainous centre-bit.”Within the last few weeks another case has come under the notice of the police.It would appear that, a great number of robberies having lately been committed in the Western suburbs of London, the attention of the police was called to the flourishing establishment of a marine-store dealer, of Pimlico.We have no desire to prejudice the case of the person at present under remand. Marine-store dealers are not supposed to traffic in jewels and gold, in the settings of personal ornaments made of the precious metals, from which the gems seem to have been ruthlessly severed, or in household plate from which the crests appear to have been recently erased.All the same, the marine-store man may have come by such objects of art and luxury in a perfectly lawful manner; and inasmuch as he stands remanded, without bail, on a charge of receiving a stolen silver medal, it is only fair to assume him innocent.Unfortunately for him his recollection of certain late commercial transactions did not tally with the information of Inspector White and Sergeant Day, of the B Division of police.It happened that these agents of the law, having occasion to call at the shop to inquire whether its owner purchased any plate that day, the marine-store keeper was so ill-advised, or of such uncertain memory, as to deny the soft impeachment.Mr. White, however, proved too pressing for him, and, accompanied by his fellow-officer, followed him and his wife upstairs, where they came upon a store of treasure of more than Oriental splendour and variety.There, upon tables and under beds, and strewn about in confusion, the police found gold coins, travelling bags, bank notes, blue serge, watches, chains, tablecloths, brooches, lockets, studs, silver plate, pieces of alpaca, cutlery, artificial teeth, slippers, shawls, lead, and brass, and articles of almost every description—​among other things, certain stolen property traced directly from the prosecuting owner.It is, of course, within the bounds of possibility that the marine-store dealer may have purchased the articles catalogued in the regular way of business; and he may rest assured that every opportunity will be afforded him to make his title clear, not only to the silver medal, but to every item so opportunely discovered on his premises.The broken jewellery found at Pimlico may have been accidentally damaged by the manufacturers themselves.It is possible that the late proprietor of the silver drinking-cup, in the shape of a thimble, with “Just a thimbleful” in blue round the rim, shocked at the temptation to dram-drinking which its possession hourly put in his way, may have adopted a peculiar form of local option and chosen to dispose of the bauble to the shopkeeper for value received.The pair of gold solitaires engraved with “a cock in the act of crowing” may have offended the æsthetic tastes of their former holder; the gilt whistle may have been found too noisy by its late custodian, and the lockets fitted with hair and the portraits of children need not necessarily have been stolen to have passed into the hands of respectable tradesmen.We sincerely trust that the accused may be able to prove his innocence to the satisfaction of a British jury.At the same time, it may not be thought out of place to call attention to the crying evil involved in the existence of a class of persons—​quite independently of individuals—​who, although shrewdly suspected by the police to be buyers of stolen goods, are left undisturbed to their mischievous avocations.Stolen goods are habitually disposed of through the medium of the pawnbroker, the leaving-shop, the marine-store dealer, the assayer or dealer in gold or silver, and the professional “fence,” the last of whom has reduced his calling to a regulated system, and has his agents in different parts of the country and on the Continent, to whom he consigns parcels of stolen property with all the forms of regular commerce.If the police could be induced to speak they might recount the histories of individuals who, after long careers of moral infamy in this line of business, have blossomed into respectable retirement in surburban mansions.They are among the most difficult sort of criminals to convict. The transactions of the firm are generally managed by a strong-minded, subtle rogue, who keeps the majority of those to whom he disposes of his ill-gotten gains in ignorance of his and their true character.The pawnbroker is generally more sinned against than sinning; for, if stolen property can be traced to his possession, he is forced by law to restore it to the right owner without compensation.While, however, the pawnbroker is licensed and subject to many disabilities in the prosecution of his calling, the keeper of the leaving shop is a mere unlicensed usurer in a small way, generally ready to advance petty sums on all sorts of portable property without asking questions as to its rightful possession.Even when this sort of person is not a regular “fence” for the lowest class of thieves, he robs the very poor by taking exorbitant interest. He should be suppressed and eradicated root and branch.When lead is stolen from the roofs of buildings, or metal fittings purloined from uninhabited houses, such plunder almost invariably finds its way to the den of the marine-store dealer, who also encourages servants to acts of wilful extravagance in the choice and rending down of fat meat by purchasing the residue, without comment or inquiry, as “kitchen stuff.”The pretended assayer and dealer in gold and silver usually has his shop in some respectable part of the town, and in the neighbourhood ofbonâ-fideestablishments for the purchase and sale of the precious metals.He makes little, if any, display of goods in his window, and the thief once inside his carefully-enclosed shop is safely screened from the gaze of the passers by.This worthy tradesman has a spout at the back of his counter communicating with a floor above, in which is situated the “soup,” or melting, pot.The thief may hand in for disposal, at well-understood prices, ornaments in the most precious of metals, possibly treasure trove in the shape of some great wrought Saxon collar of gold, or Queen Anne silver plate.It is all “stock” that comes to the “soup” kettle of this sort of gentry. A few minutes after the chain or ladle, bracelet or salver, is handed across the counter the materials are reduced to their original state.Form vanishes, and with it most of the chances of detection. These facts are not unknown to the police, and it may well be asked whether the suppression of an avoidable evil of great magnitude and importance would not fairly come within the duties of a public prosecutor.In the stolen goods department of commerce, as in many other things, prevention is better than cure.Subject to some few exceptions, a shop within the metropolitan district is a “market overt,” the keeper of which is free, without fear of the law, to buy or sell anything he pleases, from a malachite snuff-box to a Prayer-book bound in ivory, or from a cedar-wood workbox to a set of gold solitaires.Browne has a right, no doubt, to claim that he must be held innocent until the offence with which he stands charged is actually proved.But the commonest consideration must show the case to be one of very grave suspicion, and the sitting magistrate sufficiently showed his opinion of the facts as put before him when he refused to listen to any application for bail.Without, however, impugning the innocence of the prisoner in the present instance, there can be no doubt that receiving stolen property, or “fencing,” as it is technically known at Scotland-yard, is largely practised in London by the class of tradesmen to which he belongs.The difficulty the police always have with the “fence” is to bring the guilty knowledge home to him.The skilled “fence” will purchase nothing the identity of which cannot be at once destroyed without very materially depreciating its value.Some few years ago the Messrs. Hancock, of Bruton-street, discovered, at their stock-taking, that jewellery—​principally consisting of brilliant diamond rings and bracelets—​was missing to the value of several thousand pounds.They said nothing, but put the police on the alert. A few days later a little boy offered a marine-store dealer a small mass of mis-shapen metal tied together with a string.The boy was detained, and the metal proved to be the settings of the missing jewellery. The boy declared he had picked them up in the mud of the Thames off Battersea, and there was every reason to believe his story.Evidently the whole of the plunder had come into the hands of a single receiver; the stones had been wrenched out of their setting, and the gold itself had been actually thrown away.As for the stones, they no doubt found their way to Amsterdam, or the Hague, or Antwerp.But the “fence” escaped detection, although it is possible that the thief himself was discovered in the person of one of the shopmen, who pleaded guilty to several small robberies, but obstinately denied all knowledge of the larger offence.When Lady Ellesmere’s jewels, valued at fifteen thousand pounds, were stolen from the top of a cab in 1857, they came into the possession of a small shopkeeper and tallyman, who paid rather less than ten pounds for them.The thieves were ignorant of the true value of their booty, and the “fence” represented that the articles were mere “Brummagem ornaments,” worth a few shillings at the most.The purchase of stolen goods is a trade so lucrative, and offers so direct an incentive to crime in others, that, when it is fully brought home, the offender cannot, in the public interest, be too severely dealt with.If there were no receivers there would be hardly any professional thieves. Their detection, as we have said, is difficult, for the simple reason that a detected and convicted thief knows, as a rule, that he has very little, if anything, to gain by putting such information as he can give at the disposal of the police.Were pardons or remissions of sentences more frequently granted as the reward of Queen’s evidence, it ought to be perfectly possible to hunt down every professional receiver in the metropolis.The law finds it at all times difficult to deal with receivers of stolen goods, who, as a rule, contrive somehow or other to baffle and elude its most vigilant and acute officers.Thieves, however, are less fortunate than receivers: they are frequently brought to the bar of justice, and have to undergo various terms of imprisonment, but it is a most remarkable fact, that in most cases, after the habitual thief has served his time, he invariably returns to his dishonest practices.It seems almost impossible to effect a reformation in such cases, and punishment is of no avail.Some men pass two-thirds of their lives in prison, and yet are as hardened and callous as ever.We do not believe it would have been possible to have effected a reformation in Charles Peace, no matter what mode of treatment had been adopted. He was so radically bad that he was past all cure, and there are at the present time, hundreds and thousands of ruffians preying upon the public, who are equally unreliable.But Peace was a man of exceptional qualifications. He was steeped up to the very lips in crime, and we shall find it difficult to find a parallel to him either in this or any other country.Some time since America furnished us with an example of a hardened offender, who in some respects resembled the hero of this work.The man to whom we allude was twenty-one years a convict, and he is thus described by an American journalist:—“The attention of many passers-by upon Main-street, in this city, on Tuesday afternoon, says the Jackson (Mich.)Citizen, ofDec.8, was attracted by the somewhat striking appearance of an old man, of slight, wiry frame, but bent by age and toil; dressed neatly, but in plain, coarse garments, that had evidently been selected at random from a miscellaneous collection, and whose actions were rendered noticeable by that vague uncertainty and indecision so characteristic of those who have for many long years been isolated from the world within the walls of a penitentiary.“As the old man wandered along, keenly observant of every passing object, scanning the features of hurrying pedestrians with a scrutinising gaze, as if in search of one familiar face—​anon lifting his head to look upon the bright blue sky above him, and then turning with an interest almost childish in its eagerness, to the contemplation of some trivial scene or object upon which the busy, bustling throng would scarce bestow a passing glance, as he moved slowly along with his withered hand drawing the scanty coat more closely about his shoulders, and yet with an expression of happiness lighting up his countenance, which told that he was oblivious to age and poverty and cold—​there were many who turned to look after him as he passed, and wonder who he was and what his history.“Few they were, however, who knew that the old man was none less than Silas Doty—​‘Old Sile Doty,’ as he is best known to the public-whose startling exploits as a daring, adroit, and skilful horse-thief, burglar, and gaol-breaker were once celebrated throughout the entire country.“Twenty years, nine months, and twenty-six days of this singular man’s life have been passed in hard labour within the massive walls of the State prison in this city, and Tuesday his third term of imprisonment expired, and he came forth into the world once more, a free man.“Silas Doty was born atSt.Albans,Vt., on the 30th of May, 1800, and is therefore over seventy years of age, although his appearance would not indicate him to be a person of over fifty-five. He is a small, wiry-built man, about five feet seven inches in height, and probably weighing about 130 pounds, but still evidently possessed of unusual muscular power—​quick and active as a cat, and with a mind evidently vigorous and unimpaired by his long retirement from the world.“‘Old Sile’s’ personal appearance is rather prepossessing than otherwise, and when we look upon his pleasant, good-natured face, and observe the merry twinkle in his eye, we find it rather difficult to reconcile him with the reckless, dare-devil horse-thief of our imagination, conjured up by the thrilling tales related to us in our juvenile days.“‘Old Sile’ has a very keen appreciation of humour; he dearly loves a joke, and never better than when the laugh is at his own expense.“He is quite free to relate the experiences and vicissitudes which he has passed through, and the history of them would fill a volume, surpassing in thrilling interest, romantic situations, and striking events, many a work of fiction.“The earlier years of Doty’s life were passed in the State of New York, and were not marked by anything of unusual interest or more than ordinary occurrence. He was brought up upon a farm, and followed agricultural pursuits for a long time after his removal to Lenawee county, in this State.“He was known among his neighbours as a quiet, inoffensive, good-natured man, possessed of great activity and strength, which rendered him quite a local celebrity as a chopper, mower,&c.“It was said at one time that he was the ‘champion cradler’ of the State—​certainly of that section in which he resided. He was a man who was not (nor ever had been) addicted to the use of intoxicating liquor and tobacco; but while he was possessed of very many excellent traits, it was pretty generally understood that he didn’t have a fine appreciation of the rightful title of personal property, and was prone to convert to his own use any article which he might stand in need of, even though the ownership vested in some other party.“Yet it must be acknowledged that there were some good points about ‘Old Sile’s’ stealing. He was a philanthropic thief; he would steal from his richer neighbours to aid those in destitute circumstances.“In fact, there was something about his thefts akin to Claud Duval, Dick Turpin, and those other English knights of the road, whose exploits are handed down to posterity, through the medium of yellow-covered historical works of doubtful moral tendency.“If one of Mr. Doty’s poor neighbours came over to his house and wanted to borrow a log chain, Sile would inform him that he would have one for him the next day, and he would; while some other one of his neighbours would be one log chain short.“The first charge upon which he was arrested was that of horse-stealing in Lenawee county, in the latter part of 1841. He broke gaol soon after his arrest, but was recaptured and sentenced to the State prison for a term of two years, entering that institution for the first time April 9, 1842. Here he served his full term, and soon after his discharge went to New Orleans, where he engaged as body servant to Gen. Scott, at a salary of 45dol.per month in gold. He went with that officer to Mexico, and stole Santa Anna’s army into a state of destitution wherever he went.“A great variety of adventures, some of them of decided interest, were sustained by Doty while in Mexico, where he continued filling various positions as cook, waggon-driver, body-servant,&c., until the end of the war, when he returned to this State.“For a little over seven years it is a statistical fact that he kept out of prison, but he good-humouredly excuses this off by the plea of absence from the State during the most of that time.“Several times Doty was arrested, broke gaol, and escaped conviction in various ways. One of these cases was one of particular interest.“Being arrested in the winter of 1850 on a charge of horse-stealing, he was confined in several gaols, but persisted in breaking right out again with such unceasing regularity that he was finally locked up in the Angola,Ind., gaol for safe keeping.“These quarters, however, did not suit him, and although he was heavily ironed and carefully watched, he soon succeeded in effecting his escape by cutting the bar of his cell window with a small saw which he had manufactured out of the blade of an old case knife.“At the time of his escape his ankles were fettered with irons weighing thirty-five pounds, but he succeeded in hobbling to the barn of the prosecuting attorney of the county, who lived near the gaol, and appropriated that functionary’s horse.“A short distance from Angola he broke open a blacksmith’s shop, and procured therefrom a cold chisel and hammer, which he took with him to the woods and tried ineffectually to free himself from his fetters.“Failing in this, he remounted and rode a distance of over thirty miles, when he left the horse and stole a fresh one, riding that for a considerable distance, and then abandoned it for another. In this way, and by dint of riding nights, and keeping in unfrequented roads and in the woods, he succeeded in reaching his former residence in Hillsdale county.“Here, during the night, he went to the house of friends, and by them was accompanied into the woods, and while one held a tallow candle, another succeeded in striking the irons from Doty’s ankles.“Being thus freed from his annoying incumbrance, he proceeded to pick out another horse (although Sile strenuously insists to this day that this animal was his own property), and started for Detroit, intending to cross into Canada, and there dispose of the steed, but upon arriving at Detroit, to his disappointment, he found that the river was but partially frozen, and that a crossing was impracticable.“He therefore turned his horse’s head in the direction of Port Huron, intending to make his way into Canada from that point. Upon arriving at Port Huron, the attention of the officers there was attracted by the jaded, travel-worn appearance of both horse and rider, and Doty was arrested upon suspicion of having stolen the animal.“This arrest, after all his struggles and escapes, and when his destination was so close at hand, was extremely discouraging, but Sile Doty was a man of iron will and indomitable purpose, and proved himself equal to the emergency.“He was taken for safe keeping to one of the upper rooms of a hotel, and his hands secured with handcuffs, separated from each other by a heavy iron bar about twelve inches in length, which consequently kept his hands that distance apart. Of course Doty’s first move, when left alone, was to seek for some means of escape.“He found with a proper tool he could unscrew the lock upon the door. He had nothing in his possession but an old spear, but he broke all the points from that in unavailing efforts to unfasten the lock.“Soon after this the sheriff came to his room, and consented to take Doty down to the stable to look at ‘his’ horse.“While in the stable Doty espied a mason’s trowel lying upon a box near him, and succeeded in slipping it unobserved into his side coat-pocket, and upon his returning to his room secreted it in the straw mattress of his bed.“Feigning illness, Doty disrobed with the exception of his shirt, drawers, and socks, which he retained, and prepared for bed, after being handcuffed as before.“The officers again left the room, but to Doty’s dismay they took his clothing with them, and gave him the comforting assurance that at nine o’clock—​it was then just dark—​an officer would return and remain during the night with him.“No sooner had the officer reached the door below than Doty was at work at the lock with his trowel.“Screw after screw fell upon the floor, and the door stood open. Stealthily making his way through the halls, and past the open doors of rooms where persons were sitting, he finally reached a lower floor, and following a rear passage-way, threw open an outer door, and started back almost in utter despair at the prospect before him—​the prospect was certainly not an encouraging one.“About three inches of snow had fallen, and the flakes were still rapidly descending. The situation was not a pleasant one for a man in pursuit of liberty—​clad only in a thin shirt and drawers, with light socks—​no coat, hat, pants, or boots—​heavy irons upon his wrists, and a blank space of unbeaten snow before him to receive his tracks, and to enable the officers to follow him with unerring accuracy; but, as ‘Old Sile’ expressed it to our reporter, ‘a man can never tell what he can do until he makes a trial,’ and so he bravely accepted the chances, although they were so fearfully against him.“Plunging out into the snow and darkness, he ran as rapidly as possible in the direction of a small blacksmith’s shop, which he remembered to have seen that morning a short distance from the village.“Here he effected an entrance without much trouble, and fumbling around among the tools, he found a large file, which he screwed into a vice by the aid of his knees, and, alone in the dark, after repeated failures, he succeeded in disengaging his bruised and bleeding wrists from the irons, and once more started out into the stormy night.“He thought that if he could conceal himself until after the stage passed by, he could then follow the tracks of that vehicle with less fear of detection. Near the roadside was a small marshy spot covered with high reeds, and here the fugitive secreted himself until the stage passed by, when he again took to the road.“At the first opportunity he broke into a barn and secured a horse, with which he proceeded to Mount Clemens, in Macomb county.“Here he effected an entrance to a hotel, with the premises of which he was familiar, and helped himself to a complete and comfortable suit of clothing, which he carefully selected from the wardrobes of the various guests with the utmost impartiality, and also procured some slight refreshment from the pantry.“He then remounted and pursued his journey without interruption to within four miles of Detroit, when he stopped at the house of a friend and left the horse which he had ‘borrowed’ near Port Huron, with instructions to return it to the owner, which instructions were afterwards fully carried out.“The indefatigable Doty then proceeded to Detroit, and while there he slipped into the United States Hotel—​long since destroyed by fire—​and made some necessary additions to his somewhat limited wardrobe.“From thence it was an easy matter to get into Canada, where for some time he worked at shoemaking, which trade he had learned at the prison; but he soon became involved in a quarrel with his employer, and after thoroughly ‘licking’ that individual, he came back to this State.“Several times after his return he narrowly escaped arrest, and became the recognised leader of a gang of thieves who infested the southern parts of the State.“Soon afterwards he and several of his party were arrested for robbing the waggon of a Jew pedlar from Detroit, who was travelling through Hillsdale county. Doty was convicted upon this charge, and brought up before the venerable Judge Pratt, then of Marshall, for sentence.“Nearly everyone has read or heard the story of how Judge Pratt, who was a man of very brusque manner, commanded the prisoner to stand up.“‘Sile Doty,’ said the judge, ‘how old are you?’“‘Fifty-three,’ responded Doty.“‘The allotted age of man,’ said the judge, ‘is three score years and ten; beyond that this court has no jurisdiction, and therefore sentence you to confinement at hard labour, in the State prison at Jackson, for a term of seventeen years.’“So, on the 18th day of April, 1851, ‘Old Sile’ donned the striped suit of a convict for a second time, and served for fifteen years five months and twenty-six days, when, having gained several months ‘good time,’ he was discharged.“‘Old Sile’ then went to Coldwater, in Branch county, but in a few months he was again arrested on a charge of horse-stealing, and upon the 27th of July, 1867, commenced a third term at the prison, having been sentenced for four years.“Having, by meritorious conduct, gained about eight; months ‘good time,’ he was discharged on Tuesday morning for the third, and, it is to be hoped, for the last time.“There are scores of incidents in relation to ‘Old Sile’ that might be related, and would be of public interest, but space forbids their enumeration.“Mr. Doty left for Coldwater, Branch county, yesterday morning, and intended to reside with his children in that place, and to follow his trade of shoemaking. May success attend him, and may the world deal gently with one who has suffered this severe punishment for his misdeeds.“Almost twenty-one years of this man’s life were spent within those prison walls, and now, an old grey-headed man whose days are almost numbered, he goes forth to start anew in the world, and to endeavour to lead an honest life. This case is a most peculiar one.“‘Old Sile’ does not appear to be a bad man at heart; indeed, there are many men occupying important positions and moving in the higher walks of society who are more deserving of the convict’s stripes than ‘Old Sile Doty.’“It seems to be impossible for him to refrain from the wrongful conversion of property, and it is a grave question with many as to whether he is morally responsible for his acts.”Charles Peace, when he had engaged the cab, told the driver thereof to set him down at the “Elephant and Castle”—​he, from prudential motives, not deeming it expedient to be conveyed to his residence in the Evalina-road. It was his practice at all times to make a sort of break in the journey, that he might thereby baffle any attempt on the part of the police and detectives to trace him to his own residence.Upon arriving at the “Elephant and Castle” he alighted, and took the cabman in front of the bar, where he stood a friendly glass. Drivers of cabs, as a rule, have a weakness for hot rum and water, and the one in question was not an exception—​he elected to have a small modicum of that inspiring beverage; and after it had been consumed Peace paid the fare and discharged the knight of the whip. He remained in the house of public accommodation for some time after the departure of the cabman, and regarded the persons there assembled with a searching glance.He could not see anyone whom he suspected to be an officer of the law, and concluded that no one was on his trail; but he was duly impressed with the fact of having had a narrow escape—​indeed, the number of chances he had of being detected at this period of his career would, if they were all chronicled, appear to be more like a romance than an actual reality. But it is our purpose to sketch the most noticeable and leading events in his lawless and chequered career, and these will, of necessity, occupy sufficient space without entering into every minute detail.Fortune had favoured him this time, as she had done on many other occasions.He had succeeded in getting away from the Jew’s house, but he was greatly troubled when he thought of Bandy-legged Bill, whom he had missed sight of soon after his entrance into Mr. Simmonds’ respectable establishment.“What had become of him?” was the question he asked himself when in front of the bar of the “Elephant and Castle.”“Had he been captured; and if so, what followed?”He had unlimited faith in Bill’s integrity. As far as he was concerned he was quite certain that the gipsy would never “peach” or turn approver. Still it was an ugly fact to reflect upon, that he had under his charge a mass of stolen goods, which, if discovered, might lead to his (Peace’s) detection.This thought was by no means a pleasant one, and the more he reflected, the more seriously concerned did Peace become.He was uncertain as to his mode of action, and felt a little reluctant to return home. He, therefore, went into the parlour of the establishment and read the paper, without taking any notice of the few persons who happened to be there at the time.After this he hailed an omnibus, and made the best of his way to Peckham.His two female companions saw that he was a little out of sorts, and when this was the case they did not pester him with any extraneous questions.He was not a nice sort of man to deal with when put out, and he would not have hesitated to inflict personal chastisement on either of them, if they aggravated him.They knew this perfectly well, and had the discretion to abstain from making any unnecessary observations.But Peace was ill at ease, and as the evening drew on he put on his hat, and sallied forth for a walk in the neighbourhood.He never had been what is termed a “public-house man,” and only had recourse to houses of that description either when plying his vocation as a violin player, or from necessity.It is, however, a fact established beyond all controversy that he was not addicted to habits of intemperance. It was while strolling in the neighbourhood that he discovered, much to his delight, the well-known form of “Bandy-legged Bill.”Nothing could be more propitious, for he wished to see the gipsy, beyond all other persons in the world, at that particular time.As he caught sight of him his features were irradiated with a smile.“Lord send I may live!” cried that worthy; “but this ’ere is a blessed sight.”“What do you mean?” inquired Peace.“What? Why to see you safe and sound. So you’ve managed to dodge them, Charlie, eh?”“Yes; and you?”“Well, you see, I thought it wasn’t of no manner of use my stopping outside that cursed crib. I wasn’t either of use or ornament, and so, thought I to myself, I shall only be making matters worse by hanging about, ’cause you see I had the stuff in the cart.”“Quite right; it would have been madness to have remained there. So you hooked it, I suppose?”“I did so. Don’t think I deserted you in the time of need; it wasn’t no fault of mine.”“You did the best you could under the circumstances. Don’t imagine for a moment that I blame you.”“S’help my taters, but I have been in muck and no mistake. Didn’t know how it fared with you, and I was in consequence knocked clean silly. Couldn’t tell what to be up to.”“What did you do, then?”“Drove off as fast as I could, and got clean out of the neighbourhood. What would you have had me do?”“Just what you have, old stick-in-the-mud. And how about the baskets?”“Ah, that’s where it is. That was what cornered me. I thought it best anyhow to take a circumbendebus route, so I had a pretty little drive in the country, all through the buttercups and daisies; but, Lord bless you, Charlie, I didn’t enjoy the bootiful scenery, for I was thinking all the while of the mess you had got into, and thinking at the same time what chance you had of getting out of it. So, you see, it wasn’t at all a pleasant ride I had—​far from it. Howsomever, I needn’t ask now how you got on, for you are here, and I’m jolly glad to see you.”“I had a narrow squeak for it, but I pulled through.”“I sed as how you would—​blessed if I didn’t. You’re a stunner, and I had that confidence in you that I felt sartin sure you wouldn’t let em cop you, but I warnt sure ’bout old Simmonds. How did he behave?”“Right as the mail. He turned out a trump card.”“I’m glad to hear it, precious glad.”“Well, and after you drove in the country? What then?”“Why, I says, says I, this is a bit of a fix. ’Cause, you see, in a manner of speaking, I didn’t know very well how to get shut of the stuff.”“Why didn’t you take the whole lot to Isaac?”“What, at that time, when the detectives were on the scent? No, no, Charles, Bill knew a trick worth two of that body; lord bless you, the chances were that they’d visit the houses of every Jew ‘fence’ in the neighbourhood. Don’t you see that, old man?”“That is true enough. So you did not venture to try an’ get rid of the things—​so much the better. What did you do after all then?”“I didn’t know what to be up to—​didn’t know a blessed cove as I could trust at the east end of the town, so after a thinkin’ an’ thinkin’, till my head ached, all of a sudden it occurred to me to make for what you may call the fashionable quarters in London.”“What do you call the fashionable quarters?”“Why, the west end, in course.”“Oh, I see.”“It occurred to me that the best place for me to make for would be Laura Stanbridge’s. She’s fair and square enough.”“Oh, Lorrie’s all right; no fear of her peaching.”“So I, after I had considered the matter over for some little time, I just brought the mare gently round, turning her head in an opposite direction to the one in which she had been going before, and after going down the green lanes, the high roads and by roads, and finally the streets of London, I found myself at Laura Stanbridge’s establishment. So I up and told her what had happened, and she seemed greatly concerned about you.”“You found her alone, then?”“No, she was not alone when I first entered.”“Had that conceited puppy with her, ‘the dandy,’ as we call him, I suppose?”“Oh, no, not him. She had a tall, handsome-looking chap with her, whom she called ‘Tom.’”“Oh, I know, Tom Gatliffe. He has taken up with her. Well, go on—​fire away.”“I haven’t much more to tell. Lorrie agreed to take charge of the two hampers and so I left them with her.”“You couldn’t have done better, so that’s all right. So far all is well. Come, let us return home, for, to say the truth, I only came out in the hope of meeting with you.”The two friends returned toNo.4 in a much more happy frame of mind.

The receiver of stolen goods, from whose establishment Charles Peace had so cunningly contrived to make his escape, was an average sample of his class.

There are hundreds, and, indeed it may be said, thousands of persons of this description in the metropolis and the suburbs.

It has been remarked by many who have a pretty good knowledge of characters of this description that without receivers there would be no thieves, but we do not quite agree with this hypothesis. Thieves it is not possible to eradicate, but certainly the receivers offer every inducement for men to pursue dishonest courses, and it is most remarkable how few are ever brought to justice.

One of the most celebrated men of his time was a Jew, named “Ikey Solomons.”

He flourished some forty or fifty years ago, and his transactions with thieves of every description were of a magnitude which appeared at the time to be almost incredible and are said to have rivalled those of the famous Jonathan Wild.

When quite an old man “Ikey” came to grief. He had up to the time of his capture followed his nefarious calling for over half a century, and had managed some how or other to escape detection.

He was tried at the Old Bailey, but was, to the best of our belief, acquitted.

It has been said that Dickens drew his character of Fagin, in “Oliver Twist,” from the celebrated Ikey Solomons, but we are not disposed to give credence to this statement, as Ikey was, beyond the fact of his being a Jew “fence,” in every way dissimilar to Dickens’s hero.

When the name of Charles Peace was in every human mouth public interest was awakened by the spoils of a receiver of stolen property falling into the hands of the police.

The following paragraph, from a newspaper of the period, will, perhaps, interest the curious and inquisitive reader. It runs as follows:—

“There is at present, at the Bethnal-green Police-station, under the charge of Inspector Wildey, of the Criminal Investigation Department, attached to the K division, and Detective-sergeants Rolfe and Wallis, about one of the most extraordinary collections of stolen property ever seen in this metropolis.

“The goods are laid out in the library and reserve-room of the station, and consist of articles of almost every conceivable kind—​at least as far as things of a portable nature are concerned.

No.69.

Illustration: PEACE AND THE CABMANPEACE AND THE CABMAN HAVE A LIQUOR AT THE ELEPHANT AND CASTLE.

PEACE AND THE CABMAN HAVE A LIQUOR AT THE ELEPHANT AND CASTLE.

“First come some dozen or so of gold watches, from the ordinary Geneva to the highly finished and expensive article from the shop of some first-class London maker; then come silver watches, gold bracelets, lockets, chains, and guards, rings set with precious stones, silver spoons, forks, and fruit-knives.

“On another table is a quantity of really good electro-plate—​one set of forks, spoons, ladles,&c., being marked with the letter B, and are supposed to have been the proceeds of some burglary committed a year or two back.

“On a table in the middle of the room are strewn cigar-cases, meerschaum pipes, small fancy thermometers, mantel ornaments of a superior kind, opera glasses, books, photograph cases and albums, some with portraits and some without, a large family Bible, a silver snuff-box (‘presented to Sergeant Tierney by Mr. and Mrs. Maitland’), Crimean medal, with the Balaclava and Sebastopol clasps, the property of Private Wilson, of the Royal Marines; and three boxes, each containing a dozen silver thimbles.

“On the mantelpiece are some half-a-dozen clocks, some of them of a very expensive kind, and evidently taken from the house of well-to-do people.

“Around the room are scattered coats, jackets, capes, shawls, rolls of flannel, cloth, and linen, about fifty or sixty pairs of new boots, and any number of umbrellas.

“Piled up against the wall are some sixty or seventy workboxes of various sizes and kinds, from the humble article costing only a few shillings to the more expensive article, which probably cost five or ten guineas.

“Cases of claret, champagne, and brandy, railway and carriage rugs, and a host of other things much too numerous to mention, but which do not form a tithe of the bulk of property originally seized—​the whole lot, indeed, filling three large vans.

“These things were seized about eight weeks ago by Inspector Wildey, in company with Sergeants Rolfe and Wallis, at a house in Thomas-street, Commercial-road, the proprietor of which has been, for the last twelve years, suspected by the police to be a receiver of stolen property, but so cleverly has he managed his business that until the last week there had been no chance of bringing anything home to him.

“The way in which he was caught at last was as follows:—​Two men were apprehended on a charge of burglary, and one of them referred the police to this individual for a character. Inspector Wildey thereupon went to the house, and saw him, and he gave the man in question a most excellent character. From what he saw at the place, however, Mr. Wildey was induced to ask the magistrate for a search warrant, the result of which was that the whole of the property referred to was discovered there.

“Already articles relating to no less than thirty-two cases of burglary or housebreaking have been identified among the things, and fresh identifications are occurring daily.

“It is stated that seventeen years ago this modern Fagin was a poor labouring man, but he now owns some thirty houses in and about the district where he has been residing.”

It is not often, as we before observed, that persons of this class are compelled to disgorge their ill-gotten gains, or come within the meshes of the net the law has woven for them.

As a rule, they were by far too cautious and cunning to be caught napping.

But occasionally, and only occasionally, is it that one of the fraternity gets into trouble, and even then he generally manages to slip out of the hands of justice.

During the period between the trial and the execution of that eminent homicide and burglar the late Mr. Charles Peace, the public manifested a not unnatural curiosity to ascertain how he had managed to dispose of the great number of various articles which from time to time had come into his possession in the practice of a profitable but venturesome calling.

This anxious pursuit of knowledge—​not altogether for its own sake—​on the part of the payers of police-rates ultimately reached the ears of Mr. Peace himself, who, apart from his homicidal and acquisitive tendencies, was, like most other musical amateurs, an amiable and obliging person.

Finding there was not even a remote chance of breaking prison and escaping the attentions of Mr. Marwood, Mr. Peace supplied the police with a full and accurate list of purchasers of stolen property with whom he had had business transactions up and down the country.

If we recollect rightly, a subsequent conditional promise was made on behalf of the guardians of order that the convict’s allegations should be thoroughly investigated, and that, if these were found accurate, the persons pointed at should be prosecuted with the utmost rigour of the law.

Whether the promised inquiry was ever commenced we cannot say.

It is, however, an indisputable fact that but for the existence of the class of individuals to whom Peace disposed of his booty, that adroit criminal might have earned an honest livelihood as violinist in an operatic or theatrical orchestra. The receivers are always ready to the hands of the thief.

Even without the assistance of persons of Mr. Peace’s profession, the police know of their existence, their whereabouts, and their manner of prosecuting a most lucrative and not sufficiently dangerous trade; but, from a mistaken leniency in the spirit of our law, these worst of criminals are left undisturbed.

The police—​often conveniently blind—​are nothing if not arithmetical. Armed with a note-book and a pencil, they penetrate into the most secret recesses of a guilty commerce, and, having tabulated the number of “fences” in England and Wales, complacently suffer wrong-doing to take its course.

Either the crime of receiving stolen goods is on the increase, or the receivers are growing less fortunate; since the number of commitments for this specific offence was, according to the latest returns, four hundred and eighty in 1878, against four hundred and fifteen in 1877.

On the other hand, the known houses for the receipt of stolen goods slightly vary numerically from year to year, the average being about one thousand one hundred, and the known thieves and receivers of stolen goods and suspected persons may be roughly estimated at close upon forty-one thousand.

If the net of the law were spread, and these houses shut up and their occupants taken care of, crimes against property would at once fall to a minimum, the criminal courts would soon become idle, and respectable citizens might lie down to rest without fear of the “villainous centre-bit.”

Within the last few weeks another case has come under the notice of the police.

It would appear that, a great number of robberies having lately been committed in the Western suburbs of London, the attention of the police was called to the flourishing establishment of a marine-store dealer, of Pimlico.

We have no desire to prejudice the case of the person at present under remand. Marine-store dealers are not supposed to traffic in jewels and gold, in the settings of personal ornaments made of the precious metals, from which the gems seem to have been ruthlessly severed, or in household plate from which the crests appear to have been recently erased.

All the same, the marine-store man may have come by such objects of art and luxury in a perfectly lawful manner; and inasmuch as he stands remanded, without bail, on a charge of receiving a stolen silver medal, it is only fair to assume him innocent.

Unfortunately for him his recollection of certain late commercial transactions did not tally with the information of Inspector White and Sergeant Day, of the B Division of police.

It happened that these agents of the law, having occasion to call at the shop to inquire whether its owner purchased any plate that day, the marine-store keeper was so ill-advised, or of such uncertain memory, as to deny the soft impeachment.

Mr. White, however, proved too pressing for him, and, accompanied by his fellow-officer, followed him and his wife upstairs, where they came upon a store of treasure of more than Oriental splendour and variety.

There, upon tables and under beds, and strewn about in confusion, the police found gold coins, travelling bags, bank notes, blue serge, watches, chains, tablecloths, brooches, lockets, studs, silver plate, pieces of alpaca, cutlery, artificial teeth, slippers, shawls, lead, and brass, and articles of almost every description—​among other things, certain stolen property traced directly from the prosecuting owner.

It is, of course, within the bounds of possibility that the marine-store dealer may have purchased the articles catalogued in the regular way of business; and he may rest assured that every opportunity will be afforded him to make his title clear, not only to the silver medal, but to every item so opportunely discovered on his premises.

The broken jewellery found at Pimlico may have been accidentally damaged by the manufacturers themselves.

It is possible that the late proprietor of the silver drinking-cup, in the shape of a thimble, with “Just a thimbleful” in blue round the rim, shocked at the temptation to dram-drinking which its possession hourly put in his way, may have adopted a peculiar form of local option and chosen to dispose of the bauble to the shopkeeper for value received.

The pair of gold solitaires engraved with “a cock in the act of crowing” may have offended the æsthetic tastes of their former holder; the gilt whistle may have been found too noisy by its late custodian, and the lockets fitted with hair and the portraits of children need not necessarily have been stolen to have passed into the hands of respectable tradesmen.

We sincerely trust that the accused may be able to prove his innocence to the satisfaction of a British jury.

At the same time, it may not be thought out of place to call attention to the crying evil involved in the existence of a class of persons—​quite independently of individuals—​who, although shrewdly suspected by the police to be buyers of stolen goods, are left undisturbed to their mischievous avocations.

Stolen goods are habitually disposed of through the medium of the pawnbroker, the leaving-shop, the marine-store dealer, the assayer or dealer in gold or silver, and the professional “fence,” the last of whom has reduced his calling to a regulated system, and has his agents in different parts of the country and on the Continent, to whom he consigns parcels of stolen property with all the forms of regular commerce.

If the police could be induced to speak they might recount the histories of individuals who, after long careers of moral infamy in this line of business, have blossomed into respectable retirement in surburban mansions.

They are among the most difficult sort of criminals to convict. The transactions of the firm are generally managed by a strong-minded, subtle rogue, who keeps the majority of those to whom he disposes of his ill-gotten gains in ignorance of his and their true character.

The pawnbroker is generally more sinned against than sinning; for, if stolen property can be traced to his possession, he is forced by law to restore it to the right owner without compensation.

While, however, the pawnbroker is licensed and subject to many disabilities in the prosecution of his calling, the keeper of the leaving shop is a mere unlicensed usurer in a small way, generally ready to advance petty sums on all sorts of portable property without asking questions as to its rightful possession.

Even when this sort of person is not a regular “fence” for the lowest class of thieves, he robs the very poor by taking exorbitant interest. He should be suppressed and eradicated root and branch.

When lead is stolen from the roofs of buildings, or metal fittings purloined from uninhabited houses, such plunder almost invariably finds its way to the den of the marine-store dealer, who also encourages servants to acts of wilful extravagance in the choice and rending down of fat meat by purchasing the residue, without comment or inquiry, as “kitchen stuff.”

The pretended assayer and dealer in gold and silver usually has his shop in some respectable part of the town, and in the neighbourhood ofbonâ-fideestablishments for the purchase and sale of the precious metals.

He makes little, if any, display of goods in his window, and the thief once inside his carefully-enclosed shop is safely screened from the gaze of the passers by.

This worthy tradesman has a spout at the back of his counter communicating with a floor above, in which is situated the “soup,” or melting, pot.

The thief may hand in for disposal, at well-understood prices, ornaments in the most precious of metals, possibly treasure trove in the shape of some great wrought Saxon collar of gold, or Queen Anne silver plate.

It is all “stock” that comes to the “soup” kettle of this sort of gentry. A few minutes after the chain or ladle, bracelet or salver, is handed across the counter the materials are reduced to their original state.

Form vanishes, and with it most of the chances of detection. These facts are not unknown to the police, and it may well be asked whether the suppression of an avoidable evil of great magnitude and importance would not fairly come within the duties of a public prosecutor.

In the stolen goods department of commerce, as in many other things, prevention is better than cure.

Subject to some few exceptions, a shop within the metropolitan district is a “market overt,” the keeper of which is free, without fear of the law, to buy or sell anything he pleases, from a malachite snuff-box to a Prayer-book bound in ivory, or from a cedar-wood workbox to a set of gold solitaires.

Browne has a right, no doubt, to claim that he must be held innocent until the offence with which he stands charged is actually proved.

But the commonest consideration must show the case to be one of very grave suspicion, and the sitting magistrate sufficiently showed his opinion of the facts as put before him when he refused to listen to any application for bail.

Without, however, impugning the innocence of the prisoner in the present instance, there can be no doubt that receiving stolen property, or “fencing,” as it is technically known at Scotland-yard, is largely practised in London by the class of tradesmen to which he belongs.

The difficulty the police always have with the “fence” is to bring the guilty knowledge home to him.

The skilled “fence” will purchase nothing the identity of which cannot be at once destroyed without very materially depreciating its value.

Some few years ago the Messrs. Hancock, of Bruton-street, discovered, at their stock-taking, that jewellery—​principally consisting of brilliant diamond rings and bracelets—​was missing to the value of several thousand pounds.

They said nothing, but put the police on the alert. A few days later a little boy offered a marine-store dealer a small mass of mis-shapen metal tied together with a string.

The boy was detained, and the metal proved to be the settings of the missing jewellery. The boy declared he had picked them up in the mud of the Thames off Battersea, and there was every reason to believe his story.

Evidently the whole of the plunder had come into the hands of a single receiver; the stones had been wrenched out of their setting, and the gold itself had been actually thrown away.

As for the stones, they no doubt found their way to Amsterdam, or the Hague, or Antwerp.

But the “fence” escaped detection, although it is possible that the thief himself was discovered in the person of one of the shopmen, who pleaded guilty to several small robberies, but obstinately denied all knowledge of the larger offence.

When Lady Ellesmere’s jewels, valued at fifteen thousand pounds, were stolen from the top of a cab in 1857, they came into the possession of a small shopkeeper and tallyman, who paid rather less than ten pounds for them.

The thieves were ignorant of the true value of their booty, and the “fence” represented that the articles were mere “Brummagem ornaments,” worth a few shillings at the most.

The purchase of stolen goods is a trade so lucrative, and offers so direct an incentive to crime in others, that, when it is fully brought home, the offender cannot, in the public interest, be too severely dealt with.

If there were no receivers there would be hardly any professional thieves. Their detection, as we have said, is difficult, for the simple reason that a detected and convicted thief knows, as a rule, that he has very little, if anything, to gain by putting such information as he can give at the disposal of the police.

Were pardons or remissions of sentences more frequently granted as the reward of Queen’s evidence, it ought to be perfectly possible to hunt down every professional receiver in the metropolis.

The law finds it at all times difficult to deal with receivers of stolen goods, who, as a rule, contrive somehow or other to baffle and elude its most vigilant and acute officers.

Thieves, however, are less fortunate than receivers: they are frequently brought to the bar of justice, and have to undergo various terms of imprisonment, but it is a most remarkable fact, that in most cases, after the habitual thief has served his time, he invariably returns to his dishonest practices.

It seems almost impossible to effect a reformation in such cases, and punishment is of no avail.

Some men pass two-thirds of their lives in prison, and yet are as hardened and callous as ever.

We do not believe it would have been possible to have effected a reformation in Charles Peace, no matter what mode of treatment had been adopted. He was so radically bad that he was past all cure, and there are at the present time, hundreds and thousands of ruffians preying upon the public, who are equally unreliable.

But Peace was a man of exceptional qualifications. He was steeped up to the very lips in crime, and we shall find it difficult to find a parallel to him either in this or any other country.

Some time since America furnished us with an example of a hardened offender, who in some respects resembled the hero of this work.

The man to whom we allude was twenty-one years a convict, and he is thus described by an American journalist:—

“The attention of many passers-by upon Main-street, in this city, on Tuesday afternoon, says the Jackson (Mich.)Citizen, ofDec.8, was attracted by the somewhat striking appearance of an old man, of slight, wiry frame, but bent by age and toil; dressed neatly, but in plain, coarse garments, that had evidently been selected at random from a miscellaneous collection, and whose actions were rendered noticeable by that vague uncertainty and indecision so characteristic of those who have for many long years been isolated from the world within the walls of a penitentiary.

“As the old man wandered along, keenly observant of every passing object, scanning the features of hurrying pedestrians with a scrutinising gaze, as if in search of one familiar face—​anon lifting his head to look upon the bright blue sky above him, and then turning with an interest almost childish in its eagerness, to the contemplation of some trivial scene or object upon which the busy, bustling throng would scarce bestow a passing glance, as he moved slowly along with his withered hand drawing the scanty coat more closely about his shoulders, and yet with an expression of happiness lighting up his countenance, which told that he was oblivious to age and poverty and cold—​there were many who turned to look after him as he passed, and wonder who he was and what his history.

“Few they were, however, who knew that the old man was none less than Silas Doty—​‘Old Sile Doty,’ as he is best known to the public-whose startling exploits as a daring, adroit, and skilful horse-thief, burglar, and gaol-breaker were once celebrated throughout the entire country.

“Twenty years, nine months, and twenty-six days of this singular man’s life have been passed in hard labour within the massive walls of the State prison in this city, and Tuesday his third term of imprisonment expired, and he came forth into the world once more, a free man.

“Silas Doty was born atSt.Albans,Vt., on the 30th of May, 1800, and is therefore over seventy years of age, although his appearance would not indicate him to be a person of over fifty-five. He is a small, wiry-built man, about five feet seven inches in height, and probably weighing about 130 pounds, but still evidently possessed of unusual muscular power—​quick and active as a cat, and with a mind evidently vigorous and unimpaired by his long retirement from the world.

“‘Old Sile’s’ personal appearance is rather prepossessing than otherwise, and when we look upon his pleasant, good-natured face, and observe the merry twinkle in his eye, we find it rather difficult to reconcile him with the reckless, dare-devil horse-thief of our imagination, conjured up by the thrilling tales related to us in our juvenile days.

“‘Old Sile’ has a very keen appreciation of humour; he dearly loves a joke, and never better than when the laugh is at his own expense.

“He is quite free to relate the experiences and vicissitudes which he has passed through, and the history of them would fill a volume, surpassing in thrilling interest, romantic situations, and striking events, many a work of fiction.

“The earlier years of Doty’s life were passed in the State of New York, and were not marked by anything of unusual interest or more than ordinary occurrence. He was brought up upon a farm, and followed agricultural pursuits for a long time after his removal to Lenawee county, in this State.

“He was known among his neighbours as a quiet, inoffensive, good-natured man, possessed of great activity and strength, which rendered him quite a local celebrity as a chopper, mower,&c.

“It was said at one time that he was the ‘champion cradler’ of the State—​certainly of that section in which he resided. He was a man who was not (nor ever had been) addicted to the use of intoxicating liquor and tobacco; but while he was possessed of very many excellent traits, it was pretty generally understood that he didn’t have a fine appreciation of the rightful title of personal property, and was prone to convert to his own use any article which he might stand in need of, even though the ownership vested in some other party.

“Yet it must be acknowledged that there were some good points about ‘Old Sile’s’ stealing. He was a philanthropic thief; he would steal from his richer neighbours to aid those in destitute circumstances.

“In fact, there was something about his thefts akin to Claud Duval, Dick Turpin, and those other English knights of the road, whose exploits are handed down to posterity, through the medium of yellow-covered historical works of doubtful moral tendency.

“If one of Mr. Doty’s poor neighbours came over to his house and wanted to borrow a log chain, Sile would inform him that he would have one for him the next day, and he would; while some other one of his neighbours would be one log chain short.

“The first charge upon which he was arrested was that of horse-stealing in Lenawee county, in the latter part of 1841. He broke gaol soon after his arrest, but was recaptured and sentenced to the State prison for a term of two years, entering that institution for the first time April 9, 1842. Here he served his full term, and soon after his discharge went to New Orleans, where he engaged as body servant to Gen. Scott, at a salary of 45dol.per month in gold. He went with that officer to Mexico, and stole Santa Anna’s army into a state of destitution wherever he went.

“A great variety of adventures, some of them of decided interest, were sustained by Doty while in Mexico, where he continued filling various positions as cook, waggon-driver, body-servant,&c., until the end of the war, when he returned to this State.

“For a little over seven years it is a statistical fact that he kept out of prison, but he good-humouredly excuses this off by the plea of absence from the State during the most of that time.

“Several times Doty was arrested, broke gaol, and escaped conviction in various ways. One of these cases was one of particular interest.

“Being arrested in the winter of 1850 on a charge of horse-stealing, he was confined in several gaols, but persisted in breaking right out again with such unceasing regularity that he was finally locked up in the Angola,Ind., gaol for safe keeping.

“These quarters, however, did not suit him, and although he was heavily ironed and carefully watched, he soon succeeded in effecting his escape by cutting the bar of his cell window with a small saw which he had manufactured out of the blade of an old case knife.

“At the time of his escape his ankles were fettered with irons weighing thirty-five pounds, but he succeeded in hobbling to the barn of the prosecuting attorney of the county, who lived near the gaol, and appropriated that functionary’s horse.

“A short distance from Angola he broke open a blacksmith’s shop, and procured therefrom a cold chisel and hammer, which he took with him to the woods and tried ineffectually to free himself from his fetters.

“Failing in this, he remounted and rode a distance of over thirty miles, when he left the horse and stole a fresh one, riding that for a considerable distance, and then abandoned it for another. In this way, and by dint of riding nights, and keeping in unfrequented roads and in the woods, he succeeded in reaching his former residence in Hillsdale county.

“Here, during the night, he went to the house of friends, and by them was accompanied into the woods, and while one held a tallow candle, another succeeded in striking the irons from Doty’s ankles.

“Being thus freed from his annoying incumbrance, he proceeded to pick out another horse (although Sile strenuously insists to this day that this animal was his own property), and started for Detroit, intending to cross into Canada, and there dispose of the steed, but upon arriving at Detroit, to his disappointment, he found that the river was but partially frozen, and that a crossing was impracticable.

“He therefore turned his horse’s head in the direction of Port Huron, intending to make his way into Canada from that point. Upon arriving at Port Huron, the attention of the officers there was attracted by the jaded, travel-worn appearance of both horse and rider, and Doty was arrested upon suspicion of having stolen the animal.

“This arrest, after all his struggles and escapes, and when his destination was so close at hand, was extremely discouraging, but Sile Doty was a man of iron will and indomitable purpose, and proved himself equal to the emergency.

“He was taken for safe keeping to one of the upper rooms of a hotel, and his hands secured with handcuffs, separated from each other by a heavy iron bar about twelve inches in length, which consequently kept his hands that distance apart. Of course Doty’s first move, when left alone, was to seek for some means of escape.

“He found with a proper tool he could unscrew the lock upon the door. He had nothing in his possession but an old spear, but he broke all the points from that in unavailing efforts to unfasten the lock.

“Soon after this the sheriff came to his room, and consented to take Doty down to the stable to look at ‘his’ horse.

“While in the stable Doty espied a mason’s trowel lying upon a box near him, and succeeded in slipping it unobserved into his side coat-pocket, and upon his returning to his room secreted it in the straw mattress of his bed.

“Feigning illness, Doty disrobed with the exception of his shirt, drawers, and socks, which he retained, and prepared for bed, after being handcuffed as before.

“The officers again left the room, but to Doty’s dismay they took his clothing with them, and gave him the comforting assurance that at nine o’clock—​it was then just dark—​an officer would return and remain during the night with him.

“No sooner had the officer reached the door below than Doty was at work at the lock with his trowel.

“Screw after screw fell upon the floor, and the door stood open. Stealthily making his way through the halls, and past the open doors of rooms where persons were sitting, he finally reached a lower floor, and following a rear passage-way, threw open an outer door, and started back almost in utter despair at the prospect before him—​the prospect was certainly not an encouraging one.

“About three inches of snow had fallen, and the flakes were still rapidly descending. The situation was not a pleasant one for a man in pursuit of liberty—​clad only in a thin shirt and drawers, with light socks—​no coat, hat, pants, or boots—​heavy irons upon his wrists, and a blank space of unbeaten snow before him to receive his tracks, and to enable the officers to follow him with unerring accuracy; but, as ‘Old Sile’ expressed it to our reporter, ‘a man can never tell what he can do until he makes a trial,’ and so he bravely accepted the chances, although they were so fearfully against him.

“Plunging out into the snow and darkness, he ran as rapidly as possible in the direction of a small blacksmith’s shop, which he remembered to have seen that morning a short distance from the village.

“Here he effected an entrance without much trouble, and fumbling around among the tools, he found a large file, which he screwed into a vice by the aid of his knees, and, alone in the dark, after repeated failures, he succeeded in disengaging his bruised and bleeding wrists from the irons, and once more started out into the stormy night.

“He thought that if he could conceal himself until after the stage passed by, he could then follow the tracks of that vehicle with less fear of detection. Near the roadside was a small marshy spot covered with high reeds, and here the fugitive secreted himself until the stage passed by, when he again took to the road.

“At the first opportunity he broke into a barn and secured a horse, with which he proceeded to Mount Clemens, in Macomb county.

“Here he effected an entrance to a hotel, with the premises of which he was familiar, and helped himself to a complete and comfortable suit of clothing, which he carefully selected from the wardrobes of the various guests with the utmost impartiality, and also procured some slight refreshment from the pantry.

“He then remounted and pursued his journey without interruption to within four miles of Detroit, when he stopped at the house of a friend and left the horse which he had ‘borrowed’ near Port Huron, with instructions to return it to the owner, which instructions were afterwards fully carried out.

“The indefatigable Doty then proceeded to Detroit, and while there he slipped into the United States Hotel—​long since destroyed by fire—​and made some necessary additions to his somewhat limited wardrobe.

“From thence it was an easy matter to get into Canada, where for some time he worked at shoemaking, which trade he had learned at the prison; but he soon became involved in a quarrel with his employer, and after thoroughly ‘licking’ that individual, he came back to this State.

“Several times after his return he narrowly escaped arrest, and became the recognised leader of a gang of thieves who infested the southern parts of the State.

“Soon afterwards he and several of his party were arrested for robbing the waggon of a Jew pedlar from Detroit, who was travelling through Hillsdale county. Doty was convicted upon this charge, and brought up before the venerable Judge Pratt, then of Marshall, for sentence.

“Nearly everyone has read or heard the story of how Judge Pratt, who was a man of very brusque manner, commanded the prisoner to stand up.

“‘Sile Doty,’ said the judge, ‘how old are you?’

“‘Fifty-three,’ responded Doty.

“‘The allotted age of man,’ said the judge, ‘is three score years and ten; beyond that this court has no jurisdiction, and therefore sentence you to confinement at hard labour, in the State prison at Jackson, for a term of seventeen years.’

“So, on the 18th day of April, 1851, ‘Old Sile’ donned the striped suit of a convict for a second time, and served for fifteen years five months and twenty-six days, when, having gained several months ‘good time,’ he was discharged.

“‘Old Sile’ then went to Coldwater, in Branch county, but in a few months he was again arrested on a charge of horse-stealing, and upon the 27th of July, 1867, commenced a third term at the prison, having been sentenced for four years.

“Having, by meritorious conduct, gained about eight; months ‘good time,’ he was discharged on Tuesday morning for the third, and, it is to be hoped, for the last time.

“There are scores of incidents in relation to ‘Old Sile’ that might be related, and would be of public interest, but space forbids their enumeration.

“Mr. Doty left for Coldwater, Branch county, yesterday morning, and intended to reside with his children in that place, and to follow his trade of shoemaking. May success attend him, and may the world deal gently with one who has suffered this severe punishment for his misdeeds.

“Almost twenty-one years of this man’s life were spent within those prison walls, and now, an old grey-headed man whose days are almost numbered, he goes forth to start anew in the world, and to endeavour to lead an honest life. This case is a most peculiar one.

“‘Old Sile’ does not appear to be a bad man at heart; indeed, there are many men occupying important positions and moving in the higher walks of society who are more deserving of the convict’s stripes than ‘Old Sile Doty.’

“It seems to be impossible for him to refrain from the wrongful conversion of property, and it is a grave question with many as to whether he is morally responsible for his acts.”

Charles Peace, when he had engaged the cab, told the driver thereof to set him down at the “Elephant and Castle”—​he, from prudential motives, not deeming it expedient to be conveyed to his residence in the Evalina-road. It was his practice at all times to make a sort of break in the journey, that he might thereby baffle any attempt on the part of the police and detectives to trace him to his own residence.

Upon arriving at the “Elephant and Castle” he alighted, and took the cabman in front of the bar, where he stood a friendly glass. Drivers of cabs, as a rule, have a weakness for hot rum and water, and the one in question was not an exception—​he elected to have a small modicum of that inspiring beverage; and after it had been consumed Peace paid the fare and discharged the knight of the whip. He remained in the house of public accommodation for some time after the departure of the cabman, and regarded the persons there assembled with a searching glance.

He could not see anyone whom he suspected to be an officer of the law, and concluded that no one was on his trail; but he was duly impressed with the fact of having had a narrow escape—​indeed, the number of chances he had of being detected at this period of his career would, if they were all chronicled, appear to be more like a romance than an actual reality. But it is our purpose to sketch the most noticeable and leading events in his lawless and chequered career, and these will, of necessity, occupy sufficient space without entering into every minute detail.

Fortune had favoured him this time, as she had done on many other occasions.

He had succeeded in getting away from the Jew’s house, but he was greatly troubled when he thought of Bandy-legged Bill, whom he had missed sight of soon after his entrance into Mr. Simmonds’ respectable establishment.

“What had become of him?” was the question he asked himself when in front of the bar of the “Elephant and Castle.”

“Had he been captured; and if so, what followed?”

He had unlimited faith in Bill’s integrity. As far as he was concerned he was quite certain that the gipsy would never “peach” or turn approver. Still it was an ugly fact to reflect upon, that he had under his charge a mass of stolen goods, which, if discovered, might lead to his (Peace’s) detection.

This thought was by no means a pleasant one, and the more he reflected, the more seriously concerned did Peace become.

He was uncertain as to his mode of action, and felt a little reluctant to return home. He, therefore, went into the parlour of the establishment and read the paper, without taking any notice of the few persons who happened to be there at the time.

After this he hailed an omnibus, and made the best of his way to Peckham.

His two female companions saw that he was a little out of sorts, and when this was the case they did not pester him with any extraneous questions.

He was not a nice sort of man to deal with when put out, and he would not have hesitated to inflict personal chastisement on either of them, if they aggravated him.

They knew this perfectly well, and had the discretion to abstain from making any unnecessary observations.

But Peace was ill at ease, and as the evening drew on he put on his hat, and sallied forth for a walk in the neighbourhood.

He never had been what is termed a “public-house man,” and only had recourse to houses of that description either when plying his vocation as a violin player, or from necessity.

It is, however, a fact established beyond all controversy that he was not addicted to habits of intemperance. It was while strolling in the neighbourhood that he discovered, much to his delight, the well-known form of “Bandy-legged Bill.”

Nothing could be more propitious, for he wished to see the gipsy, beyond all other persons in the world, at that particular time.

As he caught sight of him his features were irradiated with a smile.

“Lord send I may live!” cried that worthy; “but this ’ere is a blessed sight.”

“What do you mean?” inquired Peace.

“What? Why to see you safe and sound. So you’ve managed to dodge them, Charlie, eh?”

“Yes; and you?”

“Well, you see, I thought it wasn’t of no manner of use my stopping outside that cursed crib. I wasn’t either of use or ornament, and so, thought I to myself, I shall only be making matters worse by hanging about, ’cause you see I had the stuff in the cart.”

“Quite right; it would have been madness to have remained there. So you hooked it, I suppose?”

“I did so. Don’t think I deserted you in the time of need; it wasn’t no fault of mine.”

“You did the best you could under the circumstances. Don’t imagine for a moment that I blame you.”

“S’help my taters, but I have been in muck and no mistake. Didn’t know how it fared with you, and I was in consequence knocked clean silly. Couldn’t tell what to be up to.”

“What did you do, then?”

“Drove off as fast as I could, and got clean out of the neighbourhood. What would you have had me do?”

“Just what you have, old stick-in-the-mud. And how about the baskets?”

“Ah, that’s where it is. That was what cornered me. I thought it best anyhow to take a circumbendebus route, so I had a pretty little drive in the country, all through the buttercups and daisies; but, Lord bless you, Charlie, I didn’t enjoy the bootiful scenery, for I was thinking all the while of the mess you had got into, and thinking at the same time what chance you had of getting out of it. So, you see, it wasn’t at all a pleasant ride I had—​far from it. Howsomever, I needn’t ask now how you got on, for you are here, and I’m jolly glad to see you.”

“I had a narrow squeak for it, but I pulled through.”

“I sed as how you would—​blessed if I didn’t. You’re a stunner, and I had that confidence in you that I felt sartin sure you wouldn’t let em cop you, but I warnt sure ’bout old Simmonds. How did he behave?”

“Right as the mail. He turned out a trump card.”

“I’m glad to hear it, precious glad.”

“Well, and after you drove in the country? What then?”

“Why, I says, says I, this is a bit of a fix. ’Cause, you see, in a manner of speaking, I didn’t know very well how to get shut of the stuff.”

“Why didn’t you take the whole lot to Isaac?”

“What, at that time, when the detectives were on the scent? No, no, Charles, Bill knew a trick worth two of that body; lord bless you, the chances were that they’d visit the houses of every Jew ‘fence’ in the neighbourhood. Don’t you see that, old man?”

“That is true enough. So you did not venture to try an’ get rid of the things—​so much the better. What did you do after all then?”

“I didn’t know what to be up to—​didn’t know a blessed cove as I could trust at the east end of the town, so after a thinkin’ an’ thinkin’, till my head ached, all of a sudden it occurred to me to make for what you may call the fashionable quarters in London.”

“What do you call the fashionable quarters?”

“Why, the west end, in course.”

“Oh, I see.”

“It occurred to me that the best place for me to make for would be Laura Stanbridge’s. She’s fair and square enough.”

“Oh, Lorrie’s all right; no fear of her peaching.”

“So I, after I had considered the matter over for some little time, I just brought the mare gently round, turning her head in an opposite direction to the one in which she had been going before, and after going down the green lanes, the high roads and by roads, and finally the streets of London, I found myself at Laura Stanbridge’s establishment. So I up and told her what had happened, and she seemed greatly concerned about you.”

“You found her alone, then?”

“No, she was not alone when I first entered.”

“Had that conceited puppy with her, ‘the dandy,’ as we call him, I suppose?”

“Oh, no, not him. She had a tall, handsome-looking chap with her, whom she called ‘Tom.’”

“Oh, I know, Tom Gatliffe. He has taken up with her. Well, go on—​fire away.”

“I haven’t much more to tell. Lorrie agreed to take charge of the two hampers and so I left them with her.”

“You couldn’t have done better, so that’s all right. So far all is well. Come, let us return home, for, to say the truth, I only came out in the hope of meeting with you.”

The two friends returned toNo.4 in a much more happy frame of mind.

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