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Early American Crimes: Burglary, Part I

Wednesday, November 18, 2009
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Outside of murder, which cuts to the core of who we are as human beings, burglary is perhaps the ultimate criminal transgression in America. Burglary violates two strong American principles at the very same time: the protection of property and the right to privacy. It also brings with it a potential for violence, since confronting a burglar could bring bodily harm or even death to the victim.

Common Law

Common law defines burglary as the breaking and entering of a dwelling house at night with the intent of committing a felony once inside. The “breaking in” actuality does not have to involve force. It can be as simple as opening an unlocked window or door, entering through a partially open window or door, or even using fraud or trickery to gain entrance. However, if a window was already sufficiently open to allow a person’s body to go through it, the entry technically can not be considered a break in.

Only part of the burglar’s body, or even part of an extension tool used by him or her, needs to cross into a house for it to be considered an entry. Some American statutes expanded the definition of burglary beyond simply entering a dwelling house to include all kinds of structures, such as storehouses, sheds, or chicken coops. Warehouses, shops, and even ships were often targets of burglars in early America, especially during the seventeenth century.

“Night” under common law is defined as “when a man’s face cannot be distinguished by the light of the sun,” although it can also be defined as the time between sunset and sunrise. The fact that burglaries occur at night elevates the seriousness of the crime. Inhabitants are much more likely to be present during the nighttime, so the potential for violence is greater. The thought that someone could be present in your house while you slept is also particularly unsettling. In contrast to burglary, breaking and entering a house with the intention of committing a felony during the day is called housebreaking.

Once a burglar breaks into a house, the offender does not need to carry out a felony within the dwelling for it to be considered a burglary; only the intention to commit a felony is needed. Whatever felony is committed inside the place of residence is its own crime, and it is prosecuted and punished as an offense separate from the burglary.

Burglary in the 17th Century

Burglary was not much of a concern in the early days of the American colonies, and so the laws governing its punishment were relatively mild. The Massachusetts Bay Colony, for example, simply stipulated that burglary should be “severely punished” and left the form of punishment up to the discretion of the judge.

As more people populated the colonies and filled the towns, burglary became a serious crime. In 1647, the Bay Colony reacted to this trend by formally codifying the punishment for burglary. First time offenders were to have a letter B branded on their foreheads, second time offenders would be severely whipped and branded, and a third offense would bring the death penalty.

In 1671, the Plymouth Colony followed the Bay Colony by making burglary a capital crime on the third conviction as well, although the law also stipulated that the court could show mercy and decide instead that the offender be “otherwise grievously punished.” When the Massachusetts Bay and Plymouth colonies were combined to create the Province of Massachusetts Bay in 1692, it basically adopted the Bay Colony’s set of punishments for burglary, although second time offenders could be whipped with up to 39 lashes and made to sit on the gallows for an hour.

In contrast to Massachusetts, Pennsylvania actually reduced their penalties for burglary over the course of the seventeenth century. Before the Lower Counties under the Duke of York were incorporated into Pennsylvania, burglary was punished much like it was in Massachusetts, with a branding on the forehead for the first offense and death for the third offense. After William Penn established the colony of Pennsylvania in 1682, he put in place the mildest criminal code in the American colonies. Crimes against property under Penn were generally punished by having the perpetrators pay a multiple of the value of the property, and murder was the only crime that could result in execution. On top of compensating the victim, burglars in Pennsylvania could also be punished by wearing a sign for a specified period of time.

Go to Early American Crimes: Burglary, Part II.

Sources

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The American Malefactor’s Dictionary: Adam

Monday, November 16, 2009

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Adam

– a henchman, an accomplice.

The word is also used in combination, as in Adam tiler (or tyler), a pickpocket’s accomplice. This latter term refers to the person to whom the pickpocket quickly passes off his or her gains for safekeeping and to avoid suspicion.

Sources:

Note: See “Cant: The Language of the Underworld” to learn more about the background of the American Malefactor’s Dictionary.

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Cant: The Language of the Criminal Underworld

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

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Cant, or flash as it is sometimes called, is a specialized language used by criminals to keep communication about their intentions and actions from being understood by their victims or the authorities. Because any language requires a distinct group of users who can speak and understand it, cant indicates the presence of at least a quasi-community of criminals who share their unlawful methods with one another and organize themselves in similar ways. The language of cant, then, provides insight into the criminal underworld and how criminals operate.

Cant dictionaries began appearing in England in the seventeenth century. Their purpose was to help protect the law-abiding public from criminals who populated the streets. Armed with their cant dictionaries, pedestrians could theoretically translate the words used by criminal populations and avoid situations that threatened their well-being. A NEW Canting DICTIONARY (1725), for instance, advertised itself as being “Useful for all Sorts of People (especially Travellers and Foreigners) to enable them to secure their Money and preserve their Lives.”

In 1859, the Chief of Police of New York, George Matsell, published the first cant dictionary in America entitled Vocabulum; or, The Rogue’s Lexicon. In it, Matsell claimed that “The rogue fraternity have a language peculiarly their own, which is understood and spoken by them no matter what their dialect, or the nation where they were reared. Many of their words and phrases, owing to their comprehensive meaning, have come into general use, so that a Vocabulum or Rogue’s Lexicon, has become a necessity to the general reader, but more especially to those who read police intelligence.” His book became standard issue for police officers in the nineteenth century until it fell out of favor at the beginning of the twentieth century.

Cant words often refer to criminal practices and techniques, and they can be used to confuse potential victims or to hide the intentions of criminals. Pickpockets, for example, can use cant to point out a potential victim to one another, even if that person is within earshot of the communication.

Some cant words have consistently appeared across generations of criminals, which indicates that at least some of the words that show up in these cant dictionaries do indeed have real meaning for this deviant group. Many of the words cataloged by early cant dictionaries crossed the ocean from England to America–some of them, no doubt, brought over by transported convicts–and continue to survive today. For example, shiv, the term for an improvised knife-like weapon created by inmates in a prison, has its roots in eighteenth-century England when it took the form chife or chive and was defined as “A knife, file, or saw.”

Attempts to systematize cant are often met with difficulty. Cant is essentially an oral language, so compiling a list of cant words and their meanings doesn’t convey the true context in which they are used. Practitioners of cant also have an interest in hiding the true meaning of the words and limiting their understanding to “members only.” Because users of the language try to keep outsiders from understanding it, the ability to speak cant serves as a quick way of identifying members of a criminal network or group and is a sign that the speaker can be trusted to some degree.

Cant offers an unusual glimpse into the hidden world of crime and criminals, so Early American Crime will be starting a new weekly feature that will define and explain a “cant word of the week.” I will try as much as possible to identify words and terms that are American in origin or use, and I will limit my selections to those that were in circulation during the nineteenth century or before. Over time, these entries will come together to create an “American Malefactor’s Dictionary,” and they may even help to protect you the next time you find yourself walking down a dark alleyway.

Sources:

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In the Media: EAC in the Worcester Telegram & Gazette

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

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Early American Crime has appeared in the press once again, this time in the Worcester Telegram & Gazette.

The article, “Crime and punishment: Trip to the Colonies” includes an interview with me about convict transportation, the Early American Crime website, and the release of my new e-book on Convict Transportation from Great Britain to the American Colonies, which brings together all of the blog posts from the series of the same name that appeared on this website.

Read the full article here.

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Early American Criminals: Is Robin Hood More American than British?

Wednesday, October 28, 2009
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Tom Cook was a notorious New England thief who happens to have been born in my hometown of Westborough, MA. He called himself “The Leveller” and cultivated a reputation for stealing from the rich and readily sharing his ill-gotten gains with the poor.

Stories of his exploits have been handed down for generations. Alice Morse Earle in Stage-Coach and Tavern Days recounts some of them:

He stole from the rich and well-to-do with the greatest boldness and dexterity, equaled by the kindness and delicacy of feeling shown in the bestowal of booty upon the poor and needy. He stole the dinner from the wealthy farmer’s kitchen and dropped it into the kettle or on the spit in a poor man’s house. He stole meal and grain from passing wagons and gave it away before the drivers’ eyes. A poor neighbor was ill, and her bed was poor. He went to a thrifty farm-house, selected the best feather bed in the house, tied it in a sheet, carried it downstairs and to the front door, and asked if he could leave his bundle there for a few days. The woman recognized him and forbade him to bring it within doors, and he went off with an easy conscience (383-384).

Earle goes on to say, “He was adored by children, and his pockets were ever filled with toys which he had stolen for their amusement” (384).

Tom Cook’s presence in Westborough looms large. Everyone in town knows the blue plaster house on East Main Street where Cook was born on October 6, 1738. Town lore says that after Tom came close to death shortly after his birth, his mother made a deal with the devil to spare his life, which supposedly accounts for his criminal ways later in life. And every year schoolchildren studying our town’s history write reports about New England’s own version of Robin Hood.

Tom Cook, however, may be more like Robin Hood than Robin Hood was himself.

Scholars at a recent academic conference on Robin Hood at the University of Rochester all generally agree that our common notion that Robin Hood stole from the rich and gave to the poor is an American invention.

“I think he’s more American than British,” Marcus A. J. Smith, a retired English professor who has studied Robin Hood, is quoted as saying in a recent article about the Robin Hood conference in the New York Times.

Douglas Fairbanks as Robin Hood; a screenshot ...
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Stephen Knight, a leading scholar on Robin Hood, also claims in the article, “Americans like the redistribution myth, but it isn’t a medieval part of the story. He isn’t a revolutionary. He’s not interested in regime change.”

Because so little is known about the actual history of Robin Hood, his character has been embellished over the centuries. The ambiguity of his story and the ability of cultures to interpret his actions to fit their particular causes have resulted in the common belief today that Robin Hood was mainly interested in redistributing the wealth of the undeserving nobility to people who needed it more. Robin Hood scholars, though, have traced this embellishment to American culture.

The power of the Robin Hood redistribution myth in American society can easily be seen in the many depictions of him in popular culture, including movies, television shows, and even cartoons. It also is displayed in the way his story is often connected to popular American criminal figures like Tom Cook and Jesse James.

Given that Americans tend to adhere strongly to the spirit of capitalism and individualism, it seems odd that the Robin Hood redistribution myth should figure so prominently in American popular culture. Perhaps the appeal of the myth is rooted instead in a desire to believe in some sense of divine justice: that those at the top who abuse their power and position will eventually fall to those who seek to uphold and protect the moral right, even if it takes a criminal hero to topple them.

Tom Cook’s career of stealing from rich New England farmers came to an end when he succumbed to old age and to an accident that partially crippled his legs. He ended up joining the ranks of those he helped in his youth by landing back in Westborough on Levi Bowman’s poor farm, which was located right down the street from where I currently live. Cook died near the age of ninety, and he is buried in an unmarked pauper’s grave somewhere in town.

Sources

  • Allen, Kristina Nilson. On the Beaten Path: Westborough, Massachusetts. Westborough Civic Club and Westborough Historical Society, 1984.
  • Applebome, Peter. “A Hero (or Villain) for the Left (or the Right).” The New York Times. New York section. Monday, October 26, 2009, A17.
  • Earle, Alice Morse. Stage-Coach and Tavern Days. Williamstown, MA: Corner House Publishers, 1977. Originally published in 1900 by Macmillan. Online edition.
  • Forbes, Harriette Merrifield. The Hundredth Town: Glimpses of Life in Westborough, 1717-1817. Boston: Press of Rockwell and Churchill, 1889. Online edition.
  • Johnson, Valerie B. “Robin Hood.” The Robin Hood Project (Website). The University of Rochester, 2008.
  • Knight, Stephen and Thomas Ohlgren, eds. Robin Hood and Other Outlaw Tales (Website). 1997.
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