The University of Texas at Austin

Law in Popular Culture collection

The Complete Newgate Calendar
Volume II
TOM KELSEY

An audacious young Thief who robbed the Tent of King
William in Flanders and stabbed a Newgate Turnkey.
Executed 13th Of June, 1690

THOMAS KELSEY was born in Leather Lane, in
the parish of St Andrew, Holborn; but his mother
being a Welsh woman, and she having an estate of about
forty pounds per annum, left her by an uncle at Wrexharn,

[53]

in Denbighshire, the whole family -- which consisted only
of the two old people, and this their son -- went down
thither to live upon it.
   Tom was from his infancy a stubborn, untoward brat, and
this temper increased as he grew up ; so that at fourteen
years of age he was prevailed on by one Jones, who has
since been a victualler in London, to leave his father and
come up to town, in order to seek his fortune. Having
neither of them any money, they were obliged to beg their
way along in the best English they were masters of. Going
one day to a gentleman's house with their complaint, he
took a liking to the boys, and received them both into his
house: Kelsey in the quality of a horsekeeper and Jones
as a falconer. It may be supposed they were both awkward
enough in their callings, but Tom's place was the least
difficult, so that he kept it the longest, the gentleman being
soon weary of his falconer, and glad to send him about his
business again.
   It was not a great while after, before Tom Kelsey was
detected in some little pilfering tricks, and turned out of
doors after his companion, whom he could not find when
he came to London. His being out of place till he could
subsist no longer, and his natural inclination to dishonesty,
soon brought him forward in the course of life for which
he was afterwards so infamous. He fell into company with
thieves, and was as bold and as dexterous in a little time as
the best of them, if not even beyond them all.
   Going one day by the house of Mr Norton, a silversmith
in Burleigh Street, near Exeter 'Change, a couple of his
companions came by him like strangers, and one of them
snatched off his hat, and flung it into the goldsmith's chamber
window, which stood open, running away as fast as they
could. Tom, who had a look innocent enough to deceive
anybody, made a sad complaint to Mr Norton, who stood
at his door and saw all that passed. It happened that at
that time there was nobody at home but himself, of which
Tom had got intelligence before. ' 'Poor lad! " says Mr
Norton, " you shall not lose your hat; go upstairs and

[54]

fetch it yourself, for I cannot leave the shop." This was
just what Tom wanted; he went up and took his hat, and
with it a dozen of silver spoons that lay in his way, coming
down in a minute, and making a very submissive bow to
Mr Norton for his civility, who let him go without suspicion.
This prize was divided between him and his two associates,
as is common in such-like cases.
   Tom was not, however, so successful in his villainies
but that he was condemned to be hanged before he was
sixteen years of age. The fact was breaking open the house
of one Mr Johnson, a grocer in the Strand, and stealing from
thence two silver tankards, a silver cup, six silver spoons, a
silver porringer, and forty pounds in money. But he got off
this time on account of his youth, and the interest his father
made at court; for, hearing of his son's condemnation, the
old gentleman came directly up to town, and arrived before
the day appointed for his execution, procuring a full pardon
by the mediation of some powerful friends.
   To prevent his following the same courses again, and
exposing himself afresh to the sentence of the law, the old
gentleman put his son apprentice to a weaver, but before
he had served half-a-year of his time he ran away from his
master, and took to his old courses again. It was his pride
to make all whom he conversed with as bad as himself, an
instance of which appeared in what he did by one David
Hughes, a cousin of his by the mother's side. This youth,
going to Kingston Assizes along with Tom a few days
after he came to town, was prevailed upon by him to pick
a pocket in the court; in which action being apprehended,
he was immediately tried, and condemned to be hanged upon
a gibbet within sight of the Bench, as a terror to others.
This week was fatal enough to young Hughes; for he came
to London on the Monday, on Tuesday and Wednesday
spent and lost ten pounds, which was all the money he had,
along with whores and sharpers, on Thursday in the evening
picked a pocket, was condemned on Friday morning, and
hanged on Saturday. This was the end of one of Kelsey's
hopeful pupils, who had the impudence to boast of it.

[55]

   Another of the actions of this extravagant was his robbing
the Earl of Feversham's lodgings. This nobleman was
General of the Forces in the reign of King James II., and
consequently had a sentinel always at his door. Tom dressed
himself in a foot-soldier's habit one evening, and went up
to the fellow who was then on duty, asking him a great
many questions, and offering at last to stand a drink, if
he knew where to get a couple of pots of good beer. The
soldier told him there was very good a little beyond Catherine
Street, but he durst not leave his post so long as to fetch it.
" Can't I take your place, brother soldier? " quoth Tom.
" I am sure if somebody be at the post there can be no
danger." The soldier thanked him, took the sixpence, and
went his way; meanwhile Tom's associates got into the
house, and were rifling it as fast as they could. They had
not quite done when the soldier came back; whereupon Tom
gave him twopence more, and desired him to get a little
tobacco also. While the poor fellow was gone for this
the villains came out, and Tom went with them, carrying
off not only above two hundred pounds worth of plate, but
even the soldier's musket. The next day the sentinel was
called to account, and committed to prison. At the ensuing
court martial he was ordered to run the gauntlet for losing
his piece, and then was sent to Newgate, and loaded with
irons, on suspicion of being privy to the robbery, where,
after nine months' confinement, he miserably perished.
   Kelsey, after this, broke open the house of the Lady Grace
Pierpont, at Thistleworth, and stole from thence a great
many valuable things. But soon after one of his companions
impeached him for this fact; whereupon, being informed
that the officers were in search after him, he fled to the camp
of King William in Flanders. Here he got a considerable
booty out of his Majesty's tent, and from other general
officers, with which he got to Amsterdam, and sold it to a
Jew; whom he also robbed afterwards, and sold what he
had gotten to another Jew at Rotterdam, from whence
he re-embarked for England.
   He had not been long returned to his native country

[56]

before he was detected in breaking open the house of a
linendraper in Cheapside, which put a final end to his
liberty, though not to his villainy, for, being sent to New-
gate, and having no hopes of ever getting out any more,
unless to go to Tyburn, he grew desperate, and resolved to
do all the mischief he could there. Mr Goodman, one of the
turnkeys of that jail, being one day drinking in the common-
side cellar, Kelsey privately stabbed him in the belly with
a knife, of which wound he instantly died. For this murder
he received sentence of death at the next session in the
Old Bailey, and a gibbet being erected in Newgate Street,
near the prison, he was thereon executed, on Friday, the:
13th of June, 1690, being then no more than twenty years
of age. As a terror to the other prisoners who were then in
confinement, his body was suffered to hang on the gibbet
the space of'three hours.

[57]


Newgate Calendar Vol. II Table of Contents / The Complete Newgate Calendar