This Day in History: 11 February 1818 — George Tomkins and the Three Sixpences

On 11 February 1818, a small but telling case came before the Old Bailey. The accused was George Tomkins, aged thirty-six, charged with stealing three sixpences from his employers.

The sum was small — just eighteen pence — but the consequences were immediate and public.


The Accusation

Tomkins was indicted for stealing:

  • Three sixpences, valued at 18d
  • The property of Robert Potts and William Maurice

The prosecutors, linen-drapers in partnership, conducted their business on Holborn Hill, a busy commercial thoroughfare in early nineteenth-century London.

Robert Potts testified plainly:

“On the 11th of February we lost three sixpences out of the till.”

In a world of hand-counted coin and daily cash transactions, even small losses were noticed.


The Evidence

The key witness was Mitford Patrick, shopman to the prosecutors.

He described the moment suspicion arose:

“While I was hanging the things in the window I heard silver rattle, and looking round I saw the prisoner’s arm coming from the till.”

Patrick acted at once.

“I took hold of him, and shook three sixpences out of his hand.”

The detail is striking: the coins literally falling from Tomkins’ grasp. There was no ambiguity about possession.

Patrick added:

“He had no business at the till — He was the porter.”

The prisoner claimed:

“He said he did not take them out of the till but off the desk.”

But the distinction carried little weight.


The Prisoner’s Response

When called upon, Tomkins offered no elaborate defence.

His recorded words were brief:

“I am sorry for it.”

It was an admission of wrongdoing, or at least an acceptance of the inevitable.


The Verdict

The jury — a London Jury before Mr. Recorder — returned their decision:

GUILTY.

Tomkins was noted to be aged 36.


Sentence

For stealing three sixpences, George Tomkins was sentenced to:

  • One month’s confinement

Unlike many theft cases of the era that resulted in transportation or lengthy imprisonment, this was treated as a minor but punishable breach of trust.

Yet even a month’s confinement carried consequences. Time spent imprisoned meant lost wages, damaged reputation, and public disgrace. In small commercial communities, that could linger far longer than thirty days.


Why This Case Matters

The case of George Tomkins illustrates several features of everyday justice in Georgian London:

  • The seriousness with which even small thefts were treated
  • The vulnerability of shopkeepers to internal theft
  • The reliance on immediate witness testimony
  • The gradation of punishment — distinguishing petty theft from major felony

Three sixpences was not a fortune. But in a world where trust underpinned trade, even eighteen pence could land a man in the dock at the Old Bailey.


Money Then & Now

Three Sixpences (18d) in 1818

  • Value in 1818: 1 shilling and 6 pence
  • Modern inflation equivalent: approx. £6–£9 today

But inflation only tells part of the story.

In 1818, a labouring man might earn 10–15 shillings per week, meaning:

  • 18d could represent close to a full day’s wages

In relative earning power, that might feel more like £70–£100 in today’s terms.

Small coin.
Serious consequence.


Sources

  • Old Bailey Proceedings Online, trial of George Tomkins, 11 February 1818.

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Quote of the Day: A holiday begins long before the suitcase is opened

“Half the joy of a holiday lies in the maps you spread across the kitchen table.”
The Sage


The Sage has always believed that a holiday begins long before the suitcase is opened. It begins in the quiet ritual of planning — in the unfolding of maps, the circling of destinations, and the slow imagining of roads not yet travelled. He notes that anticipation carries a special kind of happiness, one that belongs entirely to possibility.

He observes that when maps are spread across a kitchen table, life momentarily expands. Ordinary rooms become departure lounges; cups of tea become provisions for adventure. In those moments, The Sage says, we are not bound by timetables or weather forecasts — only by curiosity. The planning itself becomes a rehearsal for freedom.

With gentle humour, The Sage reminds us that some holidays never quite match their blueprint — and that’s part of the charm. The joy found in planning is not wasted if plans change. It is proof that imagination works even when itineraries do not. And often, he says, the memory of that hopeful table full of maps lingers just as fondly as the trip itself.


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Advice of the Day: Holiday Planning

“Choose your destination based on how little you want to pack.”

The sage

The Sage has travelled widely — sometimes by accident — and from these journeys he has developed a simple rule for booking holidays: “Choose your destination based on how little you want to pack.”

According to The Sage, most holiday stress begins not at the airport, but beside an open suitcase. Climate dictates chaos. Cold destinations demand layers, boots, mysterious cables, and clothing you haven’t worn since 2009. Warm destinations, however, reduce life to a handful of items and an optimistic attitude.

The Sage recommends brutal honesty. If the thought of packing socks makes you sigh, book somewhere that requires none. If you’re already tired before you’ve left the house, your destination should not involve snow, formalwear, or specialist footwear. True relaxation, he insists, begins with a suitcase that closes easily.


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Quote of the Day: The True Beginning of the Weekend

“The weekend starts the moment you stop pretending to be productive.”
The Sage


The Sage has always been suspicious of clocks when it comes to weekends. He notes that while calendars insist on fixed start times, the body and mind operate by entirely different rules. Productivity, he observes, does not suddenly cease at a given hour — it quietly slips away earlier, usually disguised as rearranging papers, rereading emails, or staring thoughtfully into the middle distance.

To The Sage, the true beginning of the weekend is not marked by logging off, packing up, or walking out the door, but by honesty. The moment we admit — to ourselves if not to anyone else — that no meaningful work will occur from here on, the weekend has already arrived. Everything after that is simply administrative theatre.

With gentle humour, The Sage reminds us that rest begins not with permission, but with acceptance. Pretending to be productive delays nothing except peace of mind. Once the pretence ends, the weekend quietly takes its place — usually a little earlier than planned, and always right on time.


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Advice of the Day: Drunkenness Denial

“If you feel drunk, sit very still and blame the chair.”

The sage

The Sage has always believed that most problems can be solved by remaining calm and blaming nearby furniture. His advice on avoiding getting drunk is therefore reassuringly simple: “If you feel drunk, sit very still and blame the chair.”

According to The Sage, dizziness is rarely the fault of alcohol. Chairs shift. Floors tilt. Rooms subtly rotate when they think no one is paying attention. By sitting completely still, you remove yourself from suspicion and allow the blame to fall where it belongs — on the unreliable seating arrangements of the modern world.

The Sage recommends adopting a thoughtful expression while seated, as if contemplating something profound. This suggests sobriety rather than survival. If challenged, a quiet remark such as “This chair’s not level” usually ends the conversation. Wisdom, he insists, is knowing that drunkenness is temporary — but a convincing excuse can last all evening.


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This Day in History: 6 February 1806 — Thomas Crumpton and the Stolen Copper

On 6 February 1806, the criminal court at the Old Bailey heard the case of Thomas Crumpton, accused of stealing quantities of copper and metal — materials of everyday importance in an industrialising London. Though modest in value, the case reveals how even small acts of theft were pursued with seriousness under Georgian law.


The Theft

Crumpton was indicted for feloniously stealing:

  • Twenty-seven pieces of copper, valued at 18 shillings
  • Six pieces of metal, valued at 5 shillings

These materials were not luxury items. Copper was widely used in domestic goods, tools, fixtures, and industrial work, and was routinely stolen for resale or reuse. Even small quantities could be easily converted into ready cash.


How the Matter Arose

According to the trial transcript, the theft was detected when the owner noticed the disappearance of the copper and metal items from their rightful place. Suspicion soon fell upon Crumpton, who was alleged to have taken the goods without consent.

As was typical in such cases, the matter moved swiftly from accusation to prosecution. Property owners relied heavily on the courts to enforce order and deter further losses, particularly in trades where materials were stored communally or accessed by multiple workers.


Evidence at the Trial

At the Old Bailey, witnesses gave evidence identifying the missing materials and linking them to Crumpton. The court focused closely on possession, opportunity, and intent — the standard pillars of proof in property crime cases of the period.

Many defendants in minor theft cases either denied the charge briefly or relied on character references, though such pleas rarely outweighed clear testimony.

Here is the actual transcript from the trial:

 THOMAS CRUMPTON was indicted for feloniously stealing on the 6th of February , twenty-seven pieces of copper, value 18 s. six pieces of metal, value 5 s. a pair of small shears, value 5 s. a screw wrench, value 5 s. a pair of gallopers, value 2 s. a screw-driver, value 1 s. a chisel, value 1 s. 6 d. a tap, value 1 s. 6 d. a candlestick and stand, value 2 s. 6 d. and three pieces of metal, value 4 s. the property of John Braithwaite .

JOHN WILLIAMS sworn. I am clerk to Mr. Braithwaite, engine-maker , New Road, Fitzroy-square . On the evening of the 6th of February, Charles Lee , foreman to Mr. Braithwaite, informed me that he had missed two metal bushes (a term used in the trade for that article); I instantly ran after Crumpton (the prisoner worked for Mr. Braithwaite), I stopped him and brought him back, he threw something down Mr. Braithwaite’s area, I did not see what it was, I took him in the gateway, while I was locking the gate to prevent his escaping, he threw two more pieces away in the yard; I went to Keene the constable; and told him the circumstance, and he searched his house; we found there a great deal of metals and tools.

CHARLES LEE sworn. Hearing that Mr. Braithwaite had been robbed, I took particular notice of two pieces of metal laying on the prisoner’s bench; I saw these two pieces of metal laying there, before seven o’clock at night.

Q. When did you miss them. – A. A few minutes after seven, I went to the place and found they were gone.

Q. Did you afterwards search the yard and the area. – A. I found one piece of metal in the yard, and one piece in the area.

Q. Were they the pieces of metal that you missed. – A. No; I believe they belong to the prosecutor, I will not swear it.

Q. Do you know any thing about the small shears. – A. No, the candlestick I know that was found at his house on the same evening,

Q. It could not be taken on that day. – A. I cannot say.

Q. Was the metal that was missing the same that you found. – A. One piece I believe to be the same, I did not pick it up.

– WILLIAMS sworn. I picked up one piece of metal bush.

Q. What is the use of a metal bush. – A. It is used to part of a pump.

WILLIAM KEENE sworn. Q. Did you search the prisoner’s house. – A. Yes, and found a candlestick, I produce it and the metal; the major part of them was found in a chest of drawers down stairs.

Q.(to Lee) Is that your master’s candlestick. – A. Yes, I can swear to it by the rod being broke, I broke it myself: I can swear to this metal joint screw that goes to a pump.

Prisoner’s Defence. May it please your lordships, and gentlemen of the jury; I am a poor young man slow of speech and much confused: I think you will suffer this to be read as my defence, I have lived with the prosecutor two years; the tools as is usual in the trade, were taken only to be used at my own home on private concerns, which I believe every journeyman usually does, the brass is my own, and though it has been admitted that it belongs to the prosecutor, yet there is no marks to distinguish it from others; the patterns are similar at various engineers, and however at first sight and the pattern may correspond, I submit that they are one and the same only. My master is a good man, it is his servants that are against me, I do not wish to speak against them, but they may be mistaken; I have three children and a wife now pregnant, and I am their only support; I shall not be able to provide for them if the sentence is against me; I throw myself upon you lordship’s mercy and the jury, I pray god to appear for me at this awful moment; the witnesses at the back of the bill promised to forgive me if I could discover any person taking any property from the prosecutor; I in consequence told them of two, and though he never noticed them, he has acted strange against me.

GUILTY, aged 27.

Of stealing the candlestick and the screw only .

Confined Twelve Months in the House of Correction, and fined One Shilling


Verdict and Sentence

The jury found Thomas Crumpton guilty.

Unlike some theft cases of the era — which could result in transportation or even capital sentences — the court treated this offence as serious but limited in scale. Crumpton was sentenced to:

  • Twelve months’ confinement in the House of Correction
  • A fine of one shilling

The House of Correction was intended not merely as punishment, but as a place of hard labour and moral reform. Prisoners were expected to work, often under harsh conditions, as a means of discipline and deterrence.


Why This Case Matters

Though small in scale, the case of Thomas Crumpton illustrates several key features of early nineteenth-century justice:

  • The importance of raw materials in everyday economic life
  • How even low-value thefts were formally prosecuted
  • The court’s use of imprisonment and fines as alternatives to harsher punishments
  • The role of the Old Bailey in regulating ordinary, working-class crime

Crumpton’s sentence reflects a justice system beginning to distinguish between grand theft and minor property offences — a shift that would continue throughout the nineteenth century.


Sources

  • Old Bailey Proceedings Online, trial of Thomas Crumpton, offence dated 6 February 1806.

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This Day in History: 5 February 1808 — Edward Westbrooke and the Stolen Cotton

On 5 February 1808, London’s highest criminal court, the Old Bailey, heard the case of Edward Westbrooke, who stood accused of stealing hundreds of printed cotton handkerchiefs and other textiles — goods of considerable value in the commercial heart of Georgian England. His trial, conviction and ultimate fate reveal much about how property, punishment and mercy operated in the early nineteenth century.


The Alleged Theft

Westbrooke was indicted for feloniously taking:

  • Three hundred dozen printed cotton handkerchiefs
  • A wrapper
  • Other textile goods

These were worth a significant sum and were described in the indictment as the property of local merchants. Cotton textiles were central to Britain’s burgeoning trade economy, traded in bulk and regarded as commodities of real worth.


The Trial at the Old Bailey

On 17 February 1808, Westbrooke’s trial began at the Old Bailey. Prosecutors produced testimony identifying the stolen goods, while defence arguments — if any were recorded — failed to sway the jury.

The judge and jurors, stern in posture and deliberate in their duty, considered whether the evidence met the standards of the day. With property crime seen as a threat to economic order, juries were often unsympathetic unless doubt was overwhelming.

Here is the actual trial transcript:

EDWARD WESTBROOKE was indicted for feloniously stealing on the 5th of February , three hundred dozen of printed cotton handkerchiefs, value 40 l. and a wrapper, value 6 d. the property of James Hartwell and William Behman , in the dwelling house of James Hartwell .

JAMES HARTWELL . My partner’s name is William Behman ; we are warehousemen ; I have no other partner.

Q. In what parish is the house in which you carry on your business. – A. In St. Stephens, Walbrook ; I inhabit the house, and sleep there; Mr. Behman lives in Hackney-road.

Q. He only comes in the house for the purpose of business. – A.Just so.

Q Did you at any time lose a truss containing three hundred dozen of printed cotton handkerchiefs. – A. Yes, on Friday the 5th of February, between six and seven in the evening, from the house in Walbrook; they were enclosed in a canvas wrapper.

Q.Do you know from what circumstance they were lost. – A. Yes; this truss was delivered at my house, after the warehouse was closed; our warehouse is at this time of the year closed at dusk; this truss was deivered about six o’clock; it was delivered into my dwelling house, but not in the warehouse.

Q. Did you see it in your dwelling house before it was taken away. – A. I did not. About twenty minutes or half after six o’clock, my servant was called to the house door in consequence of a knock; the prisoner at the bar said, I hear that your master wants a porter; in consequence of this my servant came up into the dining room to me and said a man wanted me; he said he heard I wanted a porter; I said it is a mistake, I do not want any porter. When she had got half way down stairs she screamed out, observing the man absent and the truss missing; that moment I run out of the dining room.

Q. Did you catch sight of the prisoner. – A. No; the moment I got out of the street door, I called out stop thief; I ran to the corner of Cannon-street, but did not see any thing particular; finding things quiet, I returned and found a terrible scuffle at that end of Walbrook that comes into Bucklersbury, and as I came gently up I found a man a running very fast indeed, coming towards me, with several others following of him.

Q. Had that man any bundle with him. – A. No. In Walbrook, opposite the end of a court, I secured the prisoner at the bar; he said what do you want with me; I replied you have stolen a truss of mine; and I requested some one or two who were near me to assist me to take him up to my own door; they assisted me in taking him up.

Q. By that means you secured him in your house. – A. Yes. When I got within three yards of my own door, I met my servant whom he asked the question of; she said I will swear that is the man.

Q. That was in his hearing. – A. Yes. The prisoner made no reply; when I got him into the passage of my house, he acknowledged that he was the person that came to enquire about a porter’s place. The moment he was in the passage I desired they would be kind enough to secure the prisoner; I went and found a man coming with the truss at the corner of Buckler’sbury, he said he found the truss on a post; I said where are you going with that truss; he replied, sir, I am going to bring it to you. He delivered it to me. I requested they would keep the prisoner in custody till I got a constable.

Q. You had never seen the truss before. – A. No.

SUSANNAH ABBOTT . Q. Were you servant to Mr. Hartwell on the 5th of February. – A. I was.

Q. Do you know whether he had any truss delivered. – A. On the 5th of February, a little after seven, there came a rap at the door, and the truss was delivered.

Q. Is the man here that delivered the truss. – A. No; the truss was delivered to me; it was left in the passage, and the man went away.

Q. How long after that did you see any other person. A. About a quarter of an hour afterwards there came another knock at the door; the prisoner came in and asked for Mr. Hartwell.

Q. Are you quite sure he is the man. – A. I am quite sure, my lord, he is the man; he asked for Mr. Hartwell by name, he said he was informed he wanted a porter; I told him I did not know, but if he would come in I would enquire of my master, he was in the sitting room.

Q. Where was your master’s sitting room. – A. Above stairs. I went up to my master, and delivered the message that the man sent me with.

Q. At the time that you left the prisoner with the street door in his hand, whereabouts was this truss. – A. It was very near the prisoner.

Q. Was it a large truss. – A. Yes, I delivered the prisoner’s message to my master, and returned down stairs almost immediately, I was not a minute with my master; my master said, he did not want one, he must be misinformed; as I went down I saw the prisoner was gone and the truss, I saw that before I got down stairs by the light of the candle, and the door was left open; I called out for my master before I got to the bottom; I ran into the street calling out stop thief.

Q. Did you get sight of the prisoner. – A. I did not at that moment, a man in the street told me he had gone down the street; another man told me he had told me wrong, he had gone up the street; I returned again towards the Mansion house; I met the prisoner by the church going down the street; he had got rid of the truss and was running down the street; I called out that was the man.

Q. Did you lay hold of him. – A. No, I catched at him but I could not hold him, I followed him; I did not lose sight of him till my master stopped him.

Q. Did you see the truss of goods again. – A. I did, they came into the house again, a strange man brought it in from the corner.

Q. Did that man give you any account how he came by it. – A. No; I have not seen him since.

Q. Do you know it to be the same truss as was there when you went up stairs. – A. I did: my master’s name was on it in large letters.

Q. I suppose that is all you know of it. – A. Yes.

Q. Have you any doubt that he is the man. – A. I am confident that he is the man that came and asked for the porter’s place.

DANIEL LEADBEATER . Q. You are a constable. – A. I am.

Q. Do you know any thing more than taking charge of this man. – A. No farther; I was sent for to take charge of him in company with Cartwright; I searched him and fond nothing about him but a knife; he had an apron about him near in the same way he has got that now.

CARTWRIGHT. I produce the truss; I have had it in my possession ever since.

Jury. What do you suppose it to weigh. – A. Between eighty and ninety pound.

Q. to prosecutor. Is your name upon that truss. – A. Yes, it is the same truss, it contains the same articles as the invoice, and before the lord mayor I had it cut open; I saw the contents, it was such a truss as I expected.

Q. Had you given any intimation that you wanted a porter. – A. No, we have a man that suited us exceeding well; I had no thought of changing.

Q. Who had sent you these goods. – A. Ashton and Shipley, at Manchester.

Q. They are persons that supply you with goods. – A. Yes.

Q. What is the value of the contents of that truss. – A. Forty-pounds; the invoice is forty eight.

Prisoner’s Defence. I was coming down Newgate street, I met with a young fellow, he told me that if I was to apply to Mr. Hartwell he believed that they wanted a porter; I went to Mr. Hartwell’s, to know if they wanted one; the servant went to her master; I stood at the corner of the stairs for an answer and just as the time the maid went up stairs a young fellow took the bale and handed it to another; they ran away, I ran after them calling out stop thief; Mr. Hartwell when he came up to me he knocked me down; he said, that I was the man that was in the entry, while the maid went up stairs to ask if he wanted a porter.

GUILTY – DEATH , aged 24.

[The prisoner was recommended to his Majesty’s mercy by the jury and the prosecutor on account of his youth.]

Second Middlesex jury, before Mr. Common Serjeant.


Sentence, Reprieve and Transportation

The jury returned a guilty verdict. Westbrooke was initially sentenced to death, reflecting the harsh penalties prescribed for felony theft. Yet his sentence came with a recommendation — indicating either mitigating circumstances or judicial mercy.

On 18 May 1808, his execution sentence was respited, sparing his life. Instead, Westbrooke was transported to New South Wales as a convict for a term of seven years, a common alternative to execution during this period.

He arrived in Australia in early 1812, aged about 28, beginning a new — if forced — chapter in the distant colony.


Why This Case Matters

The story of Edward Westbrooke’s trial and transportation highlights:

  • The centrality of textile commerce in Georgian London
  • The severity of legal penalties for property crime
  • How capital sentences were sometimes commuted in favour of transportation
  • The global reach of British punishment systems

Westbrooke’s life arc — from accused felon at the Old Bailey to convict in Australia — illustrates how justice, mercy and empire intertwined in the early 1800s.


Sources

  • Old Bailey Proceedings Online, 1808 trial of Edward Westbrooke (indictment dated 5 Feb).
  • The Digital Panopticon – life record of Edward Westbrooke, including sentencing, respital and transportation history.

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Quote of the Day: The Aftermath of a Meal

“You can tell how good a meal was by how long the washing-up is avoided.”
The Sage


The Sage has always found the aftermath of a meal far more revealing than the meal itself. Plates stacked neatly and washed immediately suggest adequacy; dishes left soaking, rearranged, and quietly ignored speak of something richer. When conversation lingers and chairs remain pulled out long after the food is gone, the sink becomes a secondary concern — and rightly so.

He observes that washing-up avoidance is rarely laziness. More often, it’s a sign that people are reluctant to end the moment. The dishes represent closure, and The Sage knows that good meals are not merely eaten — they are experienced. Stories are told, laughter repeats itself, and time stretches just enough that the practicalities politely wait their turn.

With gentle humour, The Sage reminds us that a sink full of plates is not a failure of discipline, but evidence of enjoyment. The washing-up will happen eventually. The memory of the meal, however, lasts precisely because it was given priority. In that small delay, he finds a quiet measure of success.


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Advice of the Day: Evening Decision-Making

“Choose tea based on how tired you are, not how hungry.”

The Sage

The Sage understands that choosing what to have for tea is rarely about food. His advice today cuts straight to the real issue: “Choose tea based on how tired you are, not how hungry.”

According to The Sage, hunger lies. It makes wild promises about cooking from scratch, experimenting with spices, and “just quickly doing something proper.” Tiredness, however, tells the truth. It knows whether tonight is a three-pan commitment or a plate that can be eaten from the sofa without eye contact.

The Sage advises an honest self-assessment. If you sigh when opening the fridge, the meal should involve minimal effort and maximum forgiveness. If you sit down “just for a minute” before cooking, tea has already chosen itself. Wisdom, he insists, is not eating what you want — it’s eating what you can manage without falling asleep halfway through.


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Advice of the Day: Movie Night Diplomacy

“Let your friend choose — then sigh loudly throughout.”

The Sage

The Sage understands that choosing a film with a friend is not about enjoyment — it’s about responsibility. His advice today offers a masterclass in avoiding it entirely: “Let your friend choose — then sigh loudly throughout.”

According to The Sage, this approach delivers the perfect balance of politeness and resentment. By letting your friend choose, you appear agreeable, relaxed, and emotionally mature. By sighing regularly, checking the time, and shifting position every seven minutes, you ensure they never forget that this was, in fact, their idea.

The Sage recommends deploying a range of subtle techniques: the thoughtful sigh, the concerned eyebrow raise, and the whispered “Oh…” at key plot moments. These signals communicate disappointment without the inconvenience of conversation. True wisdom, he insists, lies in suffering silently while making sure the other person notices.


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