I’ve always loved reading the stories of E. W. Hornung about the exploits of Arthur Raffles, gentleman thief and cricketer. It’s thought that Raffles is based on George Ives, a poet, criminologist and a very good cricketer. The name Raffles seems to have been taken from the title of a novel, “The doings at Raffles Haw“, written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle who was Hornung’s brother in law. There is much conjecture about Hornung’s inspiration, other than George Ives, who as far as is known never stole from anyone. Some say it’s an inversion of the crime solving duo of Holmes and Watson, Raffles has an accomplice in the form of Bunny Maunders, an impressionable and rather naive young man. Others point to a real couple, that of Oscar Wilde and Lord Arthur Douglas who were within the social circle that Hornung moved in.
The characters could be debated until the cows come home, but what interested me was the premise that Raffles worked under, that of economic necessity, basically he stole to keep up appearances and to fund his upper class “Toff” lifestyle. It also allowed him to travel around England playing cricket as a Gentleman, not a player, strictly amateur, receiving no payment for his appearances. So where did Hornung come up with that idea?
Well possibly he might have been influenced by a story that had been widely written about during his childhood, that of a group calling themselves The Swell Mob.
The mob were a loose collection of upper class men of varying ages who lived in London. What linked them is that they unlike Raffles were all comfortably well off, but like him they stole, not out of necessity but just for the thrill of it.
It’s not noted how many of these well to do and fashionable men of varying ages made up the mob, but the term Swell Mob was widely talked and written about in early Victorian London. Looking back through records from the local assizes and the Old Bailey, I came across seven men who were reputed to have been associated. Thomas Lynch, William Guyer, William Rogers, Thomas Harvey, Harry Prendergast, James Shields and John Hemmings.
Their modus operandi was pickpocketing and these gentleman had the edge over their shall we say more earthy brothers in the art. Their appearance, manners and general demeanour allowed them to mingle with the higher echelons of society without comment.
The first case I came across was of James Shields, who is described as an elderly gentleman and went by the rather strange sobriquet of “Tit” Shields. In 1827 he, and other members of the Swell Mob attended White Conduit House in rural Islington, part Inn, part tea garden and renown for putting on events.
I this case it was the ascent of Mr Charles Green in his hot air balloon that drew in the crowds and the Swell Mob targeted it as a lucrative place to operate. Unfortunately for them one of the crowd was an officer in plain clothes, Detective Sergeant Waddington. It’s unclear if Waddington was on duty or if he had been placed there to watch over the crowd, but what is known is that he knew James Shields not only by sight, but also by reputation.
According to Waddington he watched Shields draw a Mr Unwin into conversation, making great play by pointing towards the ascending balloon. As the latter craned his neck to get a better look, Shields managed to relieve him of a silver snuff box from his waistcoat pocket and then pressed his way deeper into the crowd. Waddington on seeing this gave chase and apprehended Shields, but on searching him found nothing incriminating on his person. Having deduced that the box had been palmed off to an accomplice, Waddington decided to take Shields into custody, probably to stop him working the crowd. The next day a very confident Shields appeared before the Magistrate, with no evidence he must have thought his release was imminent. However this confidence was misplaced. Waddington gave such a good testimony not only about the theft but about Shield’s character and notoriety that despite him being 70 years old and no evidence offered he was sentenced to several weeks in the Clerkenwell House of detention.
The same year Harry Prendergast, AKA “The Elephant” was brought before the Bow Street Magistrates on a charge of stealing a purse of money from an elderly widow while attending a parade in Piccadilly. The arresting officer testified that a respectable, well dressed and rather corpulent man had been seen in the crowds accompanied by and older woman, who had the appearance of a nurse or companion. This lady engaged several people in conversation before striking up a dialogue with the victim. It was then that Prendergast jostled the woman, profusely apologising for having tripped and fallen into her. The old woman visibly shaken was comforted by the Nurse, who during her ministrations lifted the purse, handing it to Prendergast.
The officer went on to explain that Prendergast was what was known as a “Swell Buzzman” a thief of genteel manners and appearance, who talked to, or buzzed his victim whilst his accomplice or “Pal” robbed them, and was part of a fraternity of genteel, respectable thieves. Appearing before the Magistrate, Prendergast found the charge highly amusing and with much mirth and false incredulity denied the crime. However, his demeanour changed somewhat when the Magistrate pointed out that he had appeared before him on several occasions. Prendergast looked thoughtful for a while and then did recollect to having appeared in the past but stated that nothing had been proven before and on this occasion he had been the victim of mistaken identity and that he was a gentleman of unimpeachable credentials. Again it seems the evidence had been palmed before the officer could arrest him and on this occasion the Magistrate decided that Prendergast and his female accomplice were free to leave, but noted that further appearances before him would result in a custodial sentence with or without any evidence being shown.
A LONDON MISCELLANY 