WILL OGDEN AND TOM REYNOLDS.
The first of these was a waterman, and born in Southwark. The second was a dung-bargeman, and born in Barnaby street. Entering into company, they robbed shops and ships, during the space of two years, with considerable success: they then ascended to the second degree of robbery, and broke several houses in Southwark. Associating themselves with another, they broke into a watchmaker’s shop, and extracted twenty-six watches; but the stranger becoming evidence, our two trusty friends were lodged in Newgate, tried, and condemned, but received a pardon, in consequence of which they were again let loose upon the community. Ogden one evening met a parson walking home under the light of the moon, and approached him in the character of a seaman in great poverty and distress. His dismal narrative excited the compassion of the parson, who gave him a sixpence. The parson had not proceeded far when Ogden met him again, and renewed his request. “You are the most impudent beggar that ever I met with,” cried the reverend gentleman. Ogden told him that he was in very great want, and that the sixpence he had received would not supply his necessities. He then gave him half a crown. Ogden said, “These are very sad times, for there’s horridrobbing abroad, therefore, if you have any more money about you, you may as well let me have it as another, who perhaps may abuse you, and binding you hand and foot, make you lie in the cold all night; but if you’ll give me your money, I’ll take care of you, and conduct you very safely home.”
The parson made a virtue of necessity, and gave him all his money, which was about forty shillings. Ogden then said, “I see you have a watch, sir; you may as well let me have that too.” The parson complied, and as they were plodding along, two or three fellows came out upon them, to whom Ogden cried, “The moon shines bright,” and they let them proceed. They had only gone a short way, when the same scene was repeated, but at last the parson was brought safely to his own door. He requested his guide to go in, assuring him that he should receive no injury; but the latter declined his offer. The good parson then brought a bottle of wine, and drinking to Ogden, gave him the bottle and the glass to help himself, upon which he ran off with both.
Upon another day, meeting Beau Medlicote, he was commanded to “stand and deliver.” The beau pretended to make some resistance with his sword, but pistols being produced, he was constrained to yield. There were only two half-crowns found in his pocket, and one of them was bad. Upon this he received a complete caning for presuming to carry counterfeit money.
Some time after this, Ogden and Reynolds, in company with one Bradshaw, the grandson of serjeant Bradshaw, who condemned king Charles the First to death, were watching in a wood for some booty. A poor servant girl was returning home from her service, with a box upon her head. Bradshaw was deemed a sufficient match for her; accordingly, he alone rushed out of the wood and seized her box, in which were her clothes and fifteen shillings, being all her wages for three months’ service. When he had broken up her box and was rifling it, there happening to be a hammerin it, she suddenly seized the hammer, and gave him a blow upon the temples, which was followed by another equally well directed, with the claw of the hammer, into his windpipe, on which the villain instantly expired.
In a short time a gentleman came up, to whom she related the whole adventure; he went up to the deceased, and found in his pockets eighty guineas, with a whistle. Perceiving its use, he immediately whistled, when Ogden and Reynolds in a moment rushed from the wood; but discovering that it was a wrong person who gave the signal, they with equal speed ran back. The gentleman carried the girl before a magistrate, became bail for her appearance; and being tried, she was acquitted.
At another time, these two men met a tallyman, well known for his commerce of two kinds with the hawkers ofSt.Giles’-in-the-Fields. They employed the common phrase “Stand and deliver!” In a piteous tone the victim entreated them to spare a poor man who was at great pains to acquire his daily bread. In a violent passion Ogden exclaimed, “Thou spawn of hell! have pity on thee? No, sirrah! I know you too well, and I would almost as soon be kind to a bailiff or an informing constable. A tallyman and a rogue are terms of similar import. Every Friday you set up a tenter in the Marshalsea court, upon which you rack and stretch poor prisoners, like English broadcloth, beyond the staple of the wool, till the threads crack, which causes them upon the least wet to shrink, and presently wear threadbare. I say that you and all your calling are worse rogues than ever were hanged at Tyburn.” After this eloquent harangue, he took whatever he found upon him, stripped him naked, bound him hand and foot, and left him under a hedge to ruminate on his former villanies.
These rogues were great cronies of Thomas Jones and John Richardson, the one butler, the other footman, to a gentleman living at Eltham. These fellows having one day robbed a gentleman on Blackheath, left himbound by the roadside. Their master coming past a few hours after, relieved the unfortunate gentleman, took him to his own house, and gave him a glass of wine to recruit his spirits. The butler no sooner appeared, than the gentleman knew him, and instantly charged him with the robbery. His master was astonished, and could scarcely credit the report; but the other describing the horse upon which he rode, and the person who was along with him, he found that he was one of his footmen. The two servants being examined, and acknowledging the fact, were committed, tried, and suffered the punishment due to their crimes.
Ogden and Reynolds continued their depredations until justice at length overtook them, and at Kingston-upon-Thames they were sentenced. They were unsuccessful in attempting to break out of the Stock-house; and such was the indifference of Ogden, that when he was going to the place of execution, he threw a handful of money among the crowd, saying, “Gentlemen, here is poor Will’s farewell.”
They were executed on the 2d of April, 1714.