To the best of his knowledge, said this turnkey, having told the money over, there were twenty moidores, eighteen guineas, five broad pieces, a half-broad piece, five crowns, and two or three shillings.He thought there was also a twenty-five-shilling piece and some others, twenty-three- shilling pieces.He had sealed them up in the bag, and there they were (producing the bag in court).
The court asked how she said she had come by the money.
Johnson's answer was that she had said she took the money and the bag from Mrs Duncomb, and that she had begged him to keep it secret.
My dear,'' said this virtuous gaoler, I would not secrete the money for the world.
She told me, too,'' runs Johnson's recorded testimony, that she had hired three men to swear the tankard was her grandmother's, but could not depend on them: that the name of one was William Denny, another was Smith, and I have forgot the third.After I had taken the money away she put a piece of mattress in her hair, that it might appear of the same bulk as before.Then I locked her up and sent to Mr Alstone, and told him the story.`And,' says I, `do you stand in a dark place to be witness of what she says, and I'll go and examine her again.'''
Sarah interrupted: I tied my handkerchief over my hair to hide the money, but Buck, happening to see my hair fall down, he told Johnson; upon which Johnson came to see me and said, `I find the cole's planted in your hair.Let me keep it for you and let Buck know nothing about it.' So I gave Johnson five broad pieces and twenty-two guineas, not gratis, but only to keep for me, for I expected it to be returned when sessions was over.As to the money, I never said I took it from Mrs Duncomb; but he asked me what they had to rap against me.I told him only a tankard.He asked me if it was Mrs Duncomb's, and I said yes.''
Peter Buck, a prisoner.
The Court: Johnson, were those her words: `This is the money and bag that I took'?''
Johnson:Yes, and she desired me to make away with the bag.'' Johnson's evidence was confirmed in part by Alstone, another officerof the prison.He said he told Johnson to get the bag from the prisoner, as it might have something about it whereby it could be identified.Johnson called the girl, while Alstone watched from a dark corner.He saw Sarah give Johnson the bag, and heard her ask him to burn it.Alstone also deposed that Sarah told him (Alstone) part of the money found on her was Mrs Duncomb's.
There is no need here to enlarge upon the oddly slack and casual conditions of the prison life of the time as revealed in this evidence.It will be no news to anyone who has studied contemporary criminal history.There is a point, however, that may be considered here, and that is the familiarity it suggests on the part of Sarah with prison conditions and with the cant terms employed by criminals and the people handling them.
Sarah, though still in her earliest twenties, was known already--if not in the Temple--to have a bad reputation.It is said that her closest friends were thieves of the worst sort.She was the daughter of an Englishman, at one time a public official in a small way in Dublin.Her father had come to London with his wife and daughter, but on the death of the mother had gone back to Ireland.He had left his daughter behind him, servant in an ale-house called the Black Horse.
Born 1711, Durham, according to The Newgate Calendar.
Sarah was a fairly well-educated girl.At the ale-house, however, she formed an acquaintance with a woman named Mary Tracey, a dissolute character, and with two thieves called Alexander.Of these three disreputable people we shall be hearing presently, for Sarah tried to implicate them in this crime which she certainly committed alone.It is said that the Newgate officers recognized Sarah on her arrival.She had often been to the prison to visit an Irish thief, convicted for stealing the pack of a Scots pedlar.
It will be seen from Sarah's own defence how she tried to implicate Tracey and the two Alexanders:
I freely own that my crimes deserve death; I own that I was accessory to the robbery, but I was innocent of the murder, and will give an account of the whole affair.
I lived with Mrs Lydia Duncomb about three months before she was murdered.The robbery was contrived by Mary Tracey, who is now in confinement, and myself, my own vicious inclinations agreeing with hers.We likewise proposed to rob Mr Oakes in Thames Street.She came to me at my master's, Mr Kerrel's chambers, on the Sunday before the murder was committed; he not being then at home, we talked about robbing Mrs Duncomb.I told her I could not pretend to do it by myself, for I should be found out.`No,' says she, `there are the two Alexanders will help us.' Next day I had seventeen pounds sent me out of the country, which I left in Mr Kerrel's drawers.I met them all in Cheapside the following Friday, and we agreed on the next night, and so parted.
Next day, being Saturday, I went between seven and eight in the evening to see Mrs Duncomb's maid, Elizabeth Harrison, who was very bad.I stayed a little while with her, and went down, and Mary Tracey and the two Alexanders came to me about ten o'clock, according to appointment.''
