An 18th century Trump: Jonathan Wild, Thief and Thieftaker.

Jonathan Wild was a notorious Jekyll and Hyde character of early 18th century London. Wild played both sides of the law brazenly. He fenced stolen goods, working with a gang of thieves and highwaymen. 

At the same time, he acted as a law-abiding citizen vigilante who informed on criminals, earning the unofficial title of "Thieftaker General." Many of the criminals he denounced to the law were rivals and even members of his gang. (Image: Wild, by Charles Knight, 1791-1873)

Wild was born in Wolverhampton @1682 the son of a carpenter. He moved to London in the early 1700s. After being arrested for debt, he became involved in the criminal underworld, learning from and working with Mary Milliner or Mollineaux, a prostitute. Around 1712 they began to live together. He set himself up as a fence of stolen goods, and Mary operated as a madam. Somehow, he managed to hide this unsavory side and present himself publicly as a respectable citizen with a veneer of gentility. he attracted the attention of the then chief thief taker in London, Charles Hitchens, who recruited him as an assistant.

Wild was aided on both sides of the law by a surge in property crimes in the 1720s. Alarm was increased by crime reporting in London's first daily newspapers. The public was demanding vigorous action, but the authorities were hamstrung. A professional police force was more than a century away, and was opposed as a possible tool of authoritarian government. Crime prevention was in the hands of superannuated night watchmen and part-time, unpaid constables who relied on public posses (the "hue and cry") to pursue thieves. Criminals had an easy time outwitting this ramshackle crew. In a grossly unequal society growing in wealth, opportunities and incentives for theft were legion. 

Wild manipulated the legal system masterly, and collected rewards for returning goods he and his colleagues stole. When one of his gang crossed him, or demanded a larger share of the proceeds, he would "impeach" them (inform on them), sending them to jail and perhaps the gallows. Wild then collected the reward for "taking a thief." The amount, £40, would be worth about £8000 today. In 1720, Wild manged to convince the government to raise the fee to £140. 

If Wild wanted to bring a thief back into his gang, he would bribe the jailers to let them out. He also used his gang members to "take" members of rival gangs, including that of Hitchens, his former mentor and partner. The two crooks engaged in a public pamphlet war, each protesting their devotion to the law and accusing the other of criminality. Wild also accused Hitchens of being a sodomite (homosexual), which stuck and eliminated him as a threat. There is no honour among thieves. 

Wild managed to balance his contradictory persona for more than a decade. But he amassed a large number of enemies. Evidence of mass corruption in the government in the early 1720s increased public skepticism of his civic spiritedness. One of his gang members he had impeached attacked him in the courtroom and cut his throat. 

Wild survived the attack, but it left him greatly weakened, and he began to lose control over his gang. Several of them came forward and testified against him. He was convicted of theft and sentenced to hang. On the morning of his execution he tried to commit but failed to commit suicide. On May 24, 1725 Wild was taken from Newgate prison and hanged at Tyburn (now Marble Arch). A huge crowd turned out to watch the execution, the largest ever to attend such a spectacle, according to Daniel Defoe. Tickets were sold for the best viewing spots. William Hogarth produced a famous engraving of an execution at Tyburn in "The Idle 'Prentice Executed at Tyburn." (1747)

In one of history's ironies, the hangman had been a guest at Wild's wedding. An 18 year old Henry Fielding was among the throng. Wild's body was dissected at the College of Surgeons. His skeleton is on display at the Hunterian Museum of the Royal College of Surgeons, in Lincoln's Inn Fields, London. (Image: Ticket to Wild's Execution)

Many writers, including John Gay and Henry Fielding, were inspired by Wild's career. They used the story of Wild to attack corrupt politicians, notably Sir Robert Walpole, Britain's first prime minister. Today, it is not difficult to see a parallel between Wild and Donald Trump. The former president presents himself as a great patriot and public servant, while engaging in a series of criminal and legally questionable activities. Trump, like Wild, has often thrown his associates to the wolves to save his skin. Will the course of justice catch up with Trump as it did with Wild, or will The Donald end up more like Walpole, who survived as prime minister for 21 years? American voters will decide. 

Further Reading:

John Gay, The Beggar's Opera (1728).

Henry Fielding, The Life and Death of Jonathan Wild, the Great (1743).

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Gin Crazes: Georgian England and Beyond

If you search the internet for "Gin Craze" these days you will probably find information about two such crazes. One is the current craze for craft, artisan, and boutique gins with alll sorts of added flavorings, including asparagus. 

The number of gin distilleries in the UK increased from 152 to 315 between 2013 and 2018. In 2016 a gin hotel opened, run by the Portobello Road Distillery, where over indulgers can spend the night. That may be a first for modern London, but perhaps not for an earlier age, as we will see. "Gin craze sees number of UK distilleries double in five years."

The other craze, which comes up in searches far more frequently, has a much longer pedigree. This is the original Gin Craze that  swept over England, especially London, in the early 18th century. Gin, or geneva, as it was often called, was a new drink in the British Isles. It was introduced by Dutch producers and drinkers who arrived after their ruler, Willliam of Orange, became king of England in 1689, as William III (1689-1702). 

The government under William and his successor, Queen Anne (1702-1714), promoted gin as an alternative to brandy, a French import. During most of this period, Britain was at war with France. (Image: William III)

The new spirit caught on quickly, especially in London and among the lower orders. Producers and sellers touted gin as a medicine that could cure gout and indigestion. But it soon became popular for other reasons. One is that it was untaxed and therefore cheaper than beer and other drinks such as brandy. No license was required to distill or sell gin, unlike other alcoholic drinks.

Another reason is that gin promised a quick route from misery to oblivion, an obvious attraction to the wretched masses of London's slums. "Drunk for a penny, dead drunk for twopence. Clean straw for nothing," as William Hogarth put it. The straw indicates a possible connection with today's gin hotel. The intoxicated could  sleep off their inebriation on the straw. Perhaps not an ideal accommodation for today's gin tourist.

Gin shops proliferated rapidly in the poorer parts of the capital. According to an estimate in the 1730s, one London house in five contained a gin shop. By the 1740s, consumption of gin in London had reached astounding levels, on average more than two pints per person per week. The gin they drank was roughly twice as strong as that sold today. 

Many people denounced the situation, among them novelist and magistrate Henry Fielding and artist William Hogarth. They blamed gin for an upsurge in mortality, poverty, and crime. 

In 1751 Fielding, founder of the Bow Street Runners, argued that if consumption was not curbed, there would soon be "few of the common people left to drink it." Fielding claimed that "gin alone" was responsible for a large proportion of theft and robbery in his jurisdiction.

Hogarth agreed. In the same year, he tackled the gin problem in his classic engravings "Gin Lane" and "Beer Street." "Gin Lane" highlights the destructive effects of excessive gin drinking on London's populace. Desolation and death reign everywhere in this grim work, centered on the intoxicated woman whose child is falling from her arms, probably to its death. This part of the scene recalls another nickname for gin, "Mother's Ruin." Fighting, theft, and suicide are hallmarks of this neighborhood. Buildings are falling down, shops decrepit. Only the pawnbroker and undertaker are prospering.

"Beer Street" is the complete opposite. Here, everyone is prospering except the pawnbroker, whose services are unneeded and whose shop is decrepit. Crime and violence are absent. Happiness, robust health, and good cheer reign. 

The government's response to the gin craze was to tax the production and sale of gin heavily, thereby raising its price, as well as the Crown's revenue. Parliament passed a series of gin acts between the 1720s and 1750s. The Gin Act of 1736 introduced prohibitive licensing fees. It inspired the cartoon below, which celebrates the "funeral of  Madame Geneva." Her death, as it turns out, was greatly exaggerated.

Enforcement of the act relied on paid informers, who were often victims of crowd violence, the so-called "Gin Riots." Producers and sellers largly ignored the law, and consumption continued to rise. Critics claimed that the illegal gin was improperly distilled and often poisoned.

The 1736 act was repealed in 1743 and replaced by a more moderate, more workable law in 1751. Consumption dropped after 1743, and more in the 1750s, probably more for economic reasons than legislative ones. 

In the early 19th century gin enjoyed a major renaissance with the opening of "gin palaces," establishments much more attractive than the dingy gin shops of the previous century.  One of these "palaces" is pictured below. The unknown artist portrays it as a convivial enough place, but the drunks and young children indicate cause for concern. 

Gin drinking reached near its 18th century levels again and aroused renewed condemnation. The renowned caricaturist George Cruikshank produced the cartoon below in 1829, "The Gin Shop." Once again, gin was equated with destruction. At the left, Death chortles cheerlily that he will "have them all dead drunk presently. They have nearly had their last glass." 

The various gins in the shop are stored in coffins. Signs indicate that gin is the road to the workhouse, financial and physcical ruin. Parents have brought their children to the shop, and the mother is forcing her infant to drink gin. The "woman" serving the gin is actually a skeleton wearing a mask. 

Cruikshank reiterated the point in other works, such as the one below, "The Battle of A-Gin-Court," (1838). In obvious reference to one of England's greatest medieval victories in the Hundred Year War, Agincourt, Cruikshank emphasizes the message that gin is bringing about the disintegration of a once great nation.

Cruikshank certainly convinced himself. He became a teetotaler in the 1840s. Gin consumption fell with the growing strength of the Temperance Movement during the Victorian Age, but the advent of the gin and quinine tonic as an antidote to malaria in Britain's tropical possessions helped keep the gin industry alive. Today's gin craze is helping it to thrive again, for good or ill. 

Further Reading: 

Jessica Warner, Craze: Gin and Debauchery in an Age of Reason. (London, 2003)

Patrick Dillon, The Much Lamented Death of Madame Geneva: The Eighteenth Century Gin Craze. (London, 2003)

London's Georgian Hospitals

During the Georgian period (1714-1830) London witnessed a great expansion of hospital facilities. This article examines a few of the more famous, some of which continue to operate today, though sometimes in different locations and with greatly expanded functions. 

In 1721 Thomas Guy, who had made a fortune in the South Sea Bubble, founded Guy's Hospital in Southwark, near London Bridge. He established it to care for "incurables" discharged from nearby much older St. Thomas' Hospital , of which he was a governor. 

The St. Thomas governors supported Guy's project by granting him the south side of St. Thomas' Street at a tiny rent for 999 years. St. Thomas' moved from the area to Lambeth, south of Westminster Bridge, in 1871 but Guy's remains in its original location. It has long since expanded greatly in size and remit, and is a major teaching hospital. (Below: Guy's, @1830)

One of the early specialist hospitals, besides the much older Bethlem Hospital for Lunatics, was founded in 1747 by surgeon William Blomfield: the London Lock Hospital for the treatment of syphilis and other venereal diseases. It was originally located near Hyde Park Corner, in Grosvenor Place. It later moved to other premises and developed maternity and gynecological services and other facilities before closing in 1952. The name "lock" derives from earlier leper hospitals. "Locks" were rags used to cover the lepers' skin lesions. (Below: Lock Hospital, mid-18th century)

St. George's Hospital, now in Tooting, was originally located at Lanesborough House, Hyde Park Corner, on its founding in 1733. In 1800, the original structure was demolished and replaced by a larger building designed by William Wilkins (below). 

Today, St. George's is one of the major teaching hospitals in the UK. The renowned and controversial surgeon-anatomist John Hunter served as head surgeon at the hospital in the late 18th century. Read about Hunter here: http://mycandles.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/lopping-them-off-in-leicester-square.html


In 1739, sea Captain Thomas Coram founded Britain's first hospital for abandoned children, the Foundling Hospital. It is believed to be the first incorporated charity. It was located at Lamb's Conduit Fields (now Coram's Fields) in Bloomsbury, and counted William Hogarth, Joshua Reynolds, Thomas Gainsborough, and George Frideric Handel among its benefactors. Among other contributions, Hogarth painted Coram's portrait for the hospital. 

The Foundling Hospital was actually an orphanage, with "hospital" used in its ancient sense of hospitality, but medical care of the children was a major function. It moved to the countryside in the early 20th century, and with the shift to adoption and foster care in the 1950's ceased most of its institutional operations. its heritage survives today in Coram, a Children's Charity. 

Another major Georgian foundation that continues to function today is the London Hospital, Whitechapel, founded in 1740, now the Royal London. It was established to fill a void: none of the existing hospitals were located in the less fashionable east side of London. Today it is a large teaching hospital. (Below: two images of the hospital building opened in the 1750's.)