Chapter Four: To Catch a Thief-Taker

Arthur sat politely with one leg crossed over the other at a bench in St. James Park. He often visited the park both to think and get milk from the cows crazing there. He was there today to reflect on the frightening scenes of the night before.

He had entered shortly after Francis worrying the Parisian could be caught by the authorities and traced to him. What he saw disturbed him. Full grown men were dancing around a velvet red room, dressed in dresses or fancy, colourful suits. The suits consisted of white, buttoned shirts and tanned breeches with separate white leggings up to the knees. Their jackets, red, blue or yellow, were left undone stretching down just beyond their waist. Their shoes were shiny, black and buckled.

The mollies, men dressed as woman, were equally elaborate. They wore dresses of red, blue, yellow, white and pink with broaches between the chest. Some wore lace caps and others mantuas, a type of half dress/half cape. Their faces were dirtied with heavy makeup, their arms bare of clothing, and their necks and ears held pearl jewelry.

The happy group, no more than twenty, danced around the room with each other. The men in suits were wooing the "women", kissing them, stroking their cheeks and sharing glasses of wine with them. As the night progressed the mingling died down and the sodomites were settling down into groups of two. After a few more drinks they announced their love for each other and proceeded to conduct imitative weddings. They exchanged vows and kissed passionately. Some went beyond and acted out the ritual of giving birth.

Arthur shuddered thinking of all the crazy fantasies that were performed within those secret walls.

In the meantime, Francis had been writing away; chatting with the Molly House patrons and discussing both their emotional and sexual love for each other. He was also fascinated by their double lives. Some were craftsmen others noblemen and others still were politicians! During the day they were ordinary men who worked miserable jobs for a salary to take home. By night they were a group of sodomites, or sexual revolutionists as Francis insisted they be called, engaging in taboo practices.

"Ah, Arthur!" A familiar voice called out to him from a short distance.

Arthur looked over to see Sir John Gonson, the leader of the Society for Reformation of Manners. He was wearing his typical royal blue petticoat and black breeches. A white, flowing wig sat on his head. "Mr. Gonson, sir. How are you?"

Arthur rose to his feet but Gonson waved at him to sit back down. "The Society will be meeting tonight at the same church we did two nights ago. We've received vital information regarding Jonathan Wild and his whereabouts."

Arthur nodded quietly. He was in no mood for this goose hunt but it would give him a reason not to revisit the sodomite brothel with Francis again. The Frenchman insisted he had more research to do and would be going back to the same Molly House in the evening.

()()()()()()()()()()()

After shaking off Francis' pleading for him to journey to the sodomite house in accompaniment, Arthur head towards the little church, his coat wrapped tightly around him to block out the howling wind.

As he reached the tiny old church, barely capable of holding more than two hundred people at best, he entered and met face to face with one of the members he had met during the dinner two days ago.

"Jackson Parley was it?" Arthur said rubbing his arms with his hands, trying to warm them up.

"And you're Arthur Kirkland." The young man with dark curls responded.

Arthur didn't recognize the man from any of his educational or professional circles, yet Parley was indirectly involved in politics. His father was a barrister, though a little known one. Arthur had seem him perform, rather poorly, at the Old Bailey in the past. And yet he still held authority because the patriarch, the grandfather, was a respected and powerful politician.

The Brit glanced over the faces of those collected in the church. They were all men since women were advised not to go on 'prowls'.

"So," An old man in his sixties spoke up as Arthur and Parley joined the group on the pews at the back of the church, "what is he being arrested for? Theft?"

"It would be rather awkward to arrest a thief-taker for theft," another informed him, "We know he's been breaking out his lackeys from jail so we'll have him indicted for that."

"That'll be even easier to do now that he's been exposed as a fraud." Parley grinned.

Gonson smirked, "I have something else in mind…"

Wild had once been beloved by the city for retrieving lost materials and goods. However, his criminal activity of hiring people to steal goods for him to 'find' and return in order to collect the reward money had recently been exposed. This left the people of London feeling cheated and their respect for him immediately disintegrated.

Picking up a pitchfork, one of the members, a shopkeeper and son of a farmer, bickered at the Society to wrap up the discussion and get moving.

"Yes, yes," Gonson grumbled. The Justice of Peace had an ill temper but did not make it to the position he held by being rash. After assembling everyone in proper order and giving strict and orderly commands he led the collection of 'mannered' man outside the church and down a few blocks to a rusty old tavern.

Loud singing could be heard from the outside. Those raising their voices were evidently drunk.

Pushing open the door the members, minus Arthur, barged into the tavern demanding the owner to hand over Wild.

Extreme measures were unnecessary as Wild sat in a dark corner unmoving. He seemed rather surprised that the authorities managed to catch him. Wide eyes returned to normal as he laughed.

"You don't honestly think you can hold me!" He jumped to his feet and rushed out a nearby door.

The Society gave chase through the door, past the kitchen and out the back door. Wild was dead ahead of them, pushing past a stack of boxes while turning a corner to try and slow the eight Reformation of Manners members. The older members of the Society had to stop and push the boxes away while the younger ones simply jumped over.

Arthur couldn't surmise why he was running with them against this thief-taker. Like the younger members he was able to jump over the boxes. As a young boy he ran a lot; passing messages back and forth between his mother and his father at the Old Bailey. His mother, despite her sex, was rather learned and had always been intrigued by the cases presented. For this Arthur could accredit his superior running skills.

After a series of obstacles the only two men still in hot pursuit of Wild were Arthur and Parley. The two were within arm's reach of the renowned thief.

Unlike Parley, who lived in a different borough, Arthur was familiar with the alleyways in the area. He hoped that Wild was equally unaware of street patterns. The Englishman pointed at his comrade and encouraged him to keep track of the thief while he went in another direction. Parley didn't seem overly confident but agreed none-the-less.

Arthur took off down another, smaller alley before the main alleyway opened to a public street. He raced down the tiny, dark back-way hoping to get to the crack in the wall that many kids liked to squeeze though when running away after stealing an apple or bread loaf.

Up ahead he heard a shuffle sound and pushed his muscles to pump harder. Being on a main street meant Wild wouldn't have to jump over boxes or avoid sludge puddles. It meant he would probably get there before Arthur, so the young blonde had to make sure he made up the time while Wild was squeezing through the cracks.

Just as he got to the short hall that led from the crack, something knocked him over. Sure enough, it was Wild. Arthur wrapped his hands around the man tightly as Parley squished himself through, coming to his comrade's assistance. The two held down the thief-taker until Gonson and the rest of the men caught up.

()()()()()()()()()

It was a few weeks, before the notorious thief-taker faced his jury. Arthur had been invited to the trial by Sir John Gonson of the Society for Reformation of Manners. Francis begged to come along to see just how "English justice" worked. Arthur was heavily opposed but relented after Francis promised to cook him an exquisite French cuisine dish – a dish at his own expense.

The two bustled up the stairs into the grand foyer. They walked down the elaborate halls and into the room where the trial would take place. Sitting at the upper level with the rest of the spectators they glanced below to the box set up for the jury. Across from that was the long, elevated table where the judge and his guests sat. To the right of the judge's table was the platform where the accused stood and opposite of that was the table where the lawyers sat.

The room was beginning to fill with people and Arthur took note of the barristers and attorneys entering the room, papers in hand. All those in league with the law wore white wigs, curled and braided. They sat down chatting with each other waiting for the judge to bang his hammer and begin the hearing.

Arthur had just finished explaining the set up to Francis, pointing out who everyone was and their attached reputation when the judge began the trial and called forth the accused, Jonathan Wild.

The rugged man in his mid-twenties shuffled down the stairs in chains and was deposited into the box by his handlers from Newgate Prison. He looked around him and noticed Arthur in the crowd and emitted a dark glare towards the emerald eyed Brit.

The judge called everyone's attention as the indictment was read out. Wild was being charged for failing to turn in the felon who, in this case stole fifty pounds worth of lace, thus making himself look like the thief. It was a new and rather strange rule, but it was just what Gonson needed to have Wild done away with for good.

"There are other indictments." Read the prosecution announcer.

"Unnecessary." A scratchy voice bellowed out, "The first indictment is a capital offense."

Arthur looked to the man beside the judge. It was John Gonson, and he was smiling with enthusiasm. There was only one thing that satisfied him more than catching and prosecuting corrupt thief-takers and that was executing sodomites. Arthur nearly shuddered when the old leader of the Society looked up and smiled at him. It was as if he knew the Brit's terrible little secret. Arthur looked beside him to Francis whose eyes were bulging.

"The sentence is death." The judge banged the hammer and closed the trial, making his way out for a break before the next hearing.

Arthur and Francis exited the building and sat on the ledge of the fountain outside the Old Bailey.

"Well that was rather unimpressive. Was there no one willing to give a strong cross-examination?" Francis blurted out suddenly.

"Why should someone? He's a criminal." Arthur responded.

"But what if he wasn't?" Francis looked at him, "Okay, maybe he is, but what if someone innocent was framed and received the death penalty?"

The Englishman rolled his eyes, "Now you're starting to sound like my father."

Francis looked at Arthur quizzically. The Brit had never discussed his parents with Francis before. The Parisian had already told the Arthur that his family were noblemen in France and were rather conservative and loyal to the King but the Londoner refused to return the courtesy of information.

It didn't take long for the Brit to read his counterpart's face, "My father is none of your business. He's just some lawyer who decided to speak against the authorities about the justice system and was punished for it."

"How so?"

Arthur looked down; having embarrassingly realized he'd said too much, "He…was just sent away. They both were."

Francis asked no more questions understanding the delicateness of the topic. He stood up, "Well Artur, shall we go?"

"And have dinner?" Arthur raised a brow, indirectly reminding Francis of his promise.

"I don't have any fresh goods today, but I promise I will make you something special before I leave."

Francis stretched out a hand to help Arthur up, but had it swatted away.

"I swear," The Brit grumbled, "you're trying to get yourself caught…and me too."

Francis chuckled and pulled his hand back. He waited for Arthur to stand up and the two walked out of the court and headed home.

As they headed down the street towards Arthur's flat, the Parisian spontaneously pulled the Londoner into one of the skinny alleys wedged between two stores. A wooden stand blocked the crowd's view of where they stood.

"Thank you for today, Artur."

Arthur looked over at him, his blue eyes shiny and bright. The Brit hated to admit it but the Frenchman looked rather handsome. His voice was as smooth as his shoulder length, blonde hair and his appearance was neat, tidy, and overall professional.

"Um…" Arthur stuttered, "You're welcome."

Francis hummed happily, sending a surprisingly delightful shiver down Arthur's spine. The Brit blushed lightly and turned away. He was both confused and infuriated as to why he was getting so hot in the face. Perhaps his nerves were still being affected by the Molly House visit and the chase for Jonathan Wild. Arthur was struck back into reality when he felt something soft melt onto his cheek.

It was Francis! He had leaned in to give Arthur a kiss.

Arthur's blush grew tenfold as Francis pulled away. His eyes were widened with shock.

Francis frowned, "I'm sorry, I should not have done that. But really, it was just a gesture of friendship."

Arthur stared speechless. He didn't know how to respond or how to feel. What he did know was that from this point, his relationship with the Frenchmen would never be the same.

()()()()()()()()()()

A figure covered by a large coat, standing out in the crowd watched as the flamboyant Frenchman pulled the Brit into the alleyway. He shuffled towards the passage and snuck a peek inside. Watching the Parisian lean in to kiss the Londoner on the cheek he grinned. The evidence was mounting…

End Notes:

~The account of the molly house is an accurate one. Sources include: Rictor Norton and Ned Ward (1709).
~The setup of the Old Bailey is also accurate. = D
~I can't for the life of me find it…but while randomly searching Wild I came across a note that an unconventional law had been dug up to convict him and sentence him to death - seems they were rather desperate to get rid of him. I just thought I'd also point out that it was the second indictment he was found guilty for, not the first. I'm too lazy to discuss the whole thing…you can easily type his name in google and search for more information yourself. They have a website for the Old Bailey and the Newgate Calendar that had detailed information.
~In addition, it should also be noted that Wild was not caught by the Society for Reformation of Manners. That was done for dramatic purposes.

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