In St. George’s Fields, Edward Burnworth gathered his companions upon learning that a publican from the Mint was searching for them in order to deliver them up to justice. Thomas Ball was acquainted with several men of the gang and was actively seeking their arrest. Burnworth proposed to dispatch him, so as to strike terror into any others who might embark upon a similar design. The company assented, with the exception of John Higgs, who initially drew back. When Burnworth reached Ball’s house, he seized the publican, dragged him inside, and shot him. Ball expired within minutes. This deed transformed a confederacy of thieves into a band of murderers pursued for concerted bloodshed.
Edward Burnworth, commonly styled Young Frazier, had been bound apprentice to a buckle-maker. Upon his father’s death, his mother was reduced to such narrow circumstances that the youth shook off the discipline that had hitherto restrained him. He frequented the ring at Moorfields, where a man named Frazier promoted cudgel-playing. Burnworth’s prowess drew general attention; the crowd dubbed him Young Frazier, an appellation he soon assumed as his own. He joined company with William Blewit, Emanuel Dickenson, Thomas Berry, John Levee, William Marjoram, John Higgs, and others. The gang commenced their career as pickpockets, before advancing to the snatching of purses, hats, and swords in the crowded thoroughfares of the City, Cheapside, Fleet Street, and Charing Cross.
Burnworth had previously been committed to Bridewell and thence removed to the New Prison, from which he made his escape. The chronicle relates that he subsequently menaced the chief of Jonathan Wild’s thief-takers: loading a pistol, he forced the man to swallow a glass of brandy mingled with gunpowder and to utter a dreadful imprecation upon himself should he persist in hunting the gang. This act of intimidation earned him great renown among his associates. Rather than convening only when an opportunity for theft presented itself, they began to submit to his direction and keep together in a body, conscious that warrants were out against several of their number.
On the morning of the murder, Burnworth and an associate named Barton broke into the residence of a Clerkenwell justice of the peace who had formerly caused him to be committed. They carried off valuables and certain vessels they took to be silver; upon perceiving that the plate was merely gilded base metal, Burnworth flung it into the New River, judging that it would serve only to betray them.
The men lingered in the fields until nightfall. A comrade arrived to warn them that the constables were ransacking Chick Lane and that their intended place of rendezvous was now fraught with peril. Burnworth exhorted them to stand fast together and make use of their firearms if molested. He was with his men when, in Turnmill Street, he encountered the keeper of the New Prison, who had witnessed his evasion six weeks earlier. The keeper urged him to step aside, declaring he meant him no harm. Burnworth drew near with a concealed pistol, whilst his confederates stood waiting. Neighbours began to gather; the men beat a retreat towards the open fields, brandishing their weapons and threatening their pursuers.
The band then crossed the river to Southwark and halted in St. George’s Fields. Burnworth explained that Thomas Ball, who kept a gin-shop in the Mint, knew their persons and had undertaken to have them apprehended. He recounted that Ball had once nearly seized him, demanding his identity, whereupon Burnworth had levelled a pistol at his breast. Now, he urged, the man’s death would prevent him from impeaching them and deter all other thief-takers. All gave their consent, according to the chronicler, save Higgs, who protested and vanished into the darkness. The rest set forth, with Burnworth at their head.
Arriving at the dwelling, they inquired of Ball’s wife where her husband was to be found. She replied that he was in an adjoining house and went to summon him. Burnworth followed behind her and met Ball upon the threshold. Seizing him by the collar, he hauled him into his own house, reproaching him for seeking to betray him after having been his former companion. Ball implored Blewit to intercede that his life might be spared. Burnworth replied that he would put him past all future treachery, and fired. Blewit thereupon discharged another pistol over the rooftops, to the end—as the text reports—that the neighbours might suppose it merely a wanton shot fired without felonious intent. Ball strove to reach the door, but collapsed and expired shortly thereafter.
The gang made their way toward the banks of the Thames, where they fell in once more with Higgs, who was likewise walking toward the water-stairs. Burnworth reviled him for having fled and proposed to slay him on the spot; Marjoram interceded to save his life. Crossing the water, they repaired to a tavern in Smithfield before dispersing into smaller bands to resume their street robberies. Following that night, Blewit, Berry, and Dickenson set out for Harwich, where they took ship for Holland. Higgs entered aboard a man-of-war at Spithead. Ball’s murder did not deter the survivors from plying their trade, yet it unleashed against them an unrelenting pursuit.
Burnworth remained in London. With his men, he notably attacked the equipage of the Earl of Scarborough in Piccadilly. The chairmen made a stout defence, and one of the assailants was thrown down; Burnworth shot one of the chairmen in the shoulder, enabling the confederates to retreat amidst the tumult. The Crown issued a royal proclamation offering a substantial reward for the capture of the fugitives. William Marjoram, hearing this notice read aloud in a public-house in Whitecross Street, slipped away unobserved and surrendered himself to a constable in Smithfield, hoping thereby to secure a pardon and the promised reward. His examination laid bare the various enterprises in which he had taken part; Levee was apprehended that very evening. Marjoram does not figure among the six malefactors tried alongside Burnworth.
Another informant, Christopher Leonard, was then in custody and sought to ingratiate himself with the authorities by procuring Burnworth’s capture. His wife, Kate, was to furnish the preconcerted signal. One evening during Shrovetide, whilst she, her sister, and Burnworth were preparing supper, Kate went out under the pretext of fetching liquor. She alerted the men waiting in a neighbouring tavern, returned, and pulled the back door to without fastening the hasp, leaving it merely ajar. Burnworth, who carried pocket-pistols concealed within the lining of his coat, sprang up at the commotion and made for this exit; the captors seized him before he could force open the door, which he believed to be on the latch, but which had in truth been secured against him. They overpowered him and brought him before a magistrate, who committed him to Newgate.
From his prison cell, Burnworth continued to hold intelligence with those of his associates who remained at large. They made several attempts upon the life of Kate Leonard, who had been instrumental in his capture; a guard was subsequently stationed near her lodgings. As for Burnworth, he was cast into the Condemned Hold and loaded with heavy irons. He contrived to disengage himself from his fetters, broke through the masonry, and reached the women’s ward, where he began sawing through the window-bars. A female prisoner gave the alarm to the turnkeys, who dragged him back and stapled him fast to the floor. The six others awaiting trial had likewise attempted to break prison: overcome with strong drink, they could not finish their work before the failure of their candles brought them to a standstill.
Blewit, Berry, and Dickenson were traced to Rotterdam. The British Resident at The Hague solicited their apprehension; upon due inquiry, the Dutch authorities arrested them at an inn and aboard a vessel in the port of Brielle. They were brought back to England under guard and lodged in Newgate, where they were reunited with Burnworth and the rest. On 30 March 1726, Burnworth, Blewit, Berry, Dickenson, Levee, and Higgs were conveyed by wagon to Kingston in Surrey. On 31 March, the Assizes opened. Five pleaded not guilty; Burnworth refused to plead. He was subjected to the severe agony of the press until he consented to enter a plea. Following a trial that lasted from eight in the morning until one in the afternoon, all six were found guilty. Higgs had insisted that he had withdrawn from the enterprise; nevertheless, other evidence placed him near Ball’s house during the murder, pistol in hand.
On 4 April, sentence of death was pronounced upon them. They still sought means of escape, obtaining files and other implements concealed by their kin; a scheme was laid to murder the keepers and set fire to certain timber-yards near the gaol. The plot was discovered before it could be executed, and the tools were seized. On the following Wednesday morning, the six were conveyed to execution alongside another felon named Blackburn. Blewit fell upon his knees to crave forgiveness of a man whom he had once menaced with a pistol. At the foot of the gallows, Blewit and Dickenson prayed with great fervour, Blewit reciting the penitential psalm. The condemned embraced one another before the cart was drawn away. The chronicler notes that Dickenson died with exceeding difficulty.
Following their deaths, the bodies were distributed among the appointed places of gibbeting: Burnworth and Blewit in St. George’s Fields, Dickenson and Berry on Kennington Common, and Levee and Higgs on Putney Common. The Sheriff received an order permitting Dickenson’s relatives to take down his body after a single day’s exposure, in consideration of the services of his father, who had fallen in the line of duty during the late war. A career begun under the name of Young Frazier, marked by threats against a pursuer, and culminating in Ball’s murder, had drawn in its wake a sequence of captures, evasions, foreign flights, and returns under escort. At Kingston, the jury convicted six men for their part in this dark business; Ball’s death remained the judicial pivot upon which the chronicler framed their destinies.