journey to Port Patrick, from whence he crossed to Dublin with about
four score pounds in ready money, a gold watch, which was put up in a
corner of a cloak bag, linen, and other things to a considerable value
besides.

But to return to Winship. His robberies were so numerous that he began
to be very well known and much sought after by those who make it their
business to bring men to justice for rewards. There is some reason to
believe that he had been once condemned and received mercy. However, on
the 25th of May, 1721, he stopped one Mr. Lowther in his chariot,
between Pancras Church and the Halfway House, and robbed him of his
silver watch and a purse of ten guineas; for which robbery being quickly
after apprehended, he was convicted at the Old Bailey, on the evidence
of the prosecutor and the voluntary information of one of his
companions.

While he lay under sentence, he could not help expressing a great
impatience at the miserable condition to which his follies had reduced
him, and at the same time to show the most earnest desire of life,
though it were upon the terms of transportation for the whole
continuance of it; though he frequently declared it did not arise so
much from a willingness in himself to continue in this world, as at the
grief he felt for the misfortunes of his aged mother, who was ready to
run distracted at her son's unhappy fate.

As he was a very personable young man strangers, especially at chapel,
took particular notice of him, and were continually inquiring of his
adventures; but Winship not only constantly refused to give them any
satisfaction, but declared also to the Ordinary that he did not think
himself obliged to make any discoveries which might affect the lives of
others, showing also an extraordinary uneasiness whenever such questions
were put to him. When he was asked, by the direction of a person of some
rank, whether he did not rob a person dressed in such a manner in a
chaise as he was watering his horse before the church door, during the
time of Divine service, Winship replied, he supposed the crime did not
consist in the time or place, and as to whether he was guilty of it or
no, he would tell nothing.

In other respects he appeared penitent and devout, suffering at Tyburn
at the same time with the afore-mentioned Matthew Clark, in the
twenty-second year of his age, leaving behind him a wife, who died
afterwards with grief for his execution.

The Life of JOHN MEFF