Millbank Penitentiary: An Experiment in Reformation
John Stuart Mill · en
At no period could thieves in London or elsewhere have prospered had
they been unable to dispose of their ill-gotten goods. The trade of
fence, or receiver, therefore, is very nearly as old as the crimes
which it so obviously fostered. One of the most notorious, and for
a time most successful practitioners in this illicit trade, passed
through Newgate into Millbank and beyond. The name of Ikey Solomons
was long remembered by thief and thief-taker. He began as an itinerant
street vendor at eight years of age, at ten he passed bad money, at
fourteen he was a pickpocket and a “duffer,” or a seller of sham
goods. He early saw the profits in purchasing stolen goods, but could
not embark in it at first for want of capital. He was taken up when
still in his teens for stealing a pocket-book, and was sentenced to
transportation, but did not get beyond the hulks at Chatham. On his
release an uncle, a slopseller in Chatham, gave him a situation as
“barker,” or salesman, at which he realized £150 within a couple of
years. With this capital he returned to London and set up as a fence.
He had such great aptitude for business, and such a thorough knowledge
of the real value of goods, that he was soon admitted to be one of the
best judges known of all kinds of property, from a glass bottle to a
five hundred guinea chronometer. But he never paid more than a fixed
price for all articles of the same class, whatever their intrinsic
value. Thus, a watch was paid for as a watch, whether it was of gold or
silver; a piece of linen as such, whether the stuff was coarse or fine.
This rule in dealing with stolen goods continues to this day, and has
made the fortune of many since Ikey.
Solomons also established a system of provincial agency, by which
stolen goods were passed on from London to the seaports, and so
abroad. Jewels were re-set, diamonds re-faced; all marks by which
other articles might be identified, the selvages of linen, the stamps
on shoes, the number and names on watches, were carefully removed or
obliterated after the goods passed out of his hands. On one occasion
the whole of the proceeds of a robbery from a boot shop was traced to
Solomons’; the owner came with the police, and was morally convinced
that it was his property, but could not positively identify it, and
Ikey defied them to remove a single shoe. In the end the injured
bootmaker agreed to buy back his stolen stock at the price Solomons had
paid for it, and it cost him about a hundred pounds to re-stock his
shop with his own goods.