Introducing To The Reader The Chief Personages Of This Narrative
At that famous period of history, when the seventeenth century (after a deal of
quarrelling, king-killing, reforming, republicanising, restoring, re-restoring, play-writing,
sermon- writing, Oliver-Cromwellising, Stuartising, and Orangising, to be sure) had sunk
into its grave, giving place to the lusty eighteenth; when Mr. Isaac Newton was a tutor of
Trinity, and Mr. Joseph Addison Commissioner of Appeals; when the presiding genius
that watched over the destinies of the French nation had played out all the best cards in
his hand, and his adversaries began to pour in their trumps; when there were two kings
in Spain employed perpetually in running away from one another; when there was a
queen in England, with such rogues for Ministers as have never been seen, no, not in
our own day; and a General, of whom it may be severely argued, whether he was the
meanest miser or the greatest hero in the world; when Mrs. Masham had not yet put
Madam Marlborough's nose out of joint; when people had their ears cut off for writing
very meek political pamphlets; and very large full-bottomed wigs were just beginning to
be worn with powder; and the face of Louis the Great, as his was handed in to him
behind the bed-curtains, was, when issuing thence, observed to look longer, older, and
more dismal daily. . . .
About the year One thousand seven hundred and five, that is, in the glorious reign of
Queen Anne, there existed certain characters, and befell a series of adventures, which,
since they are strictly in accordance with the present fashionable style and taste; since
they have been already partly described in the "Newgate Calendar;" since they are (as
shall be seen anon) agreeably low, delightfully disgusting, and at the same time
eminently pleasing and pathetic, may properly be set down here.
And though it may be said, with some considerable show of reason, that agreeably low
and delightfully disgusting characters have already been treated, both copiously and
ably, by some eminent writers of the present (and, indeed, of future) ages; though to
tread in the footsteps of the immortal FAGIN requires a genius of inordinate stride, and
to go a-robbing after the late though deathless TURPIN, the renowned JACK
SHEPPARD, or the embryo DUVAL, may be impossible, and not an infringement, but a
wasteful indication of ill-will towards the eighth commandment; though it may, on the
one hand, be asserted that only vain coxcombs would dare to write on subjects already
described by men really and deservedly eminent; on the other hand, that these subjects
have been described so fully, that nothing more can be said about them; on the third
hand (allowing, for the sake of argument, three hands to one figure of speech), that the
public has heard so much of them, as to be quite tired of rogues, thieves, cutthroats,
and Newgate altogether;--though all these objections may be urged, and each is
excellent, yet we intend to take a few more pages from the "Old Bailey Calendar," to
bless the public with one more draught from the Stone Jug:*--yet awhile to listen,
hurdle-mounted, and riding down the Oxford Road, to the bland conversation of Jack
