Chapter X: Part 10

“After this, about thirteen or fourteen years of age, I went to my father at Newby, and attended him in the family there, till the death of Sir Edward Blackett. It was here my propensity to literature first appeared, for being always of a solitary disposition, and uncommonly fond of retirement and books, I enjoyed here all the repose and opportunity I could wish. My study at that time was engaged in the mathematics: I know not what my acquisitions were, but I am certain my application was intense and unwearied. I found in my father’s library there, which contained a very great number of books in most branches, Kersey’s Algebra, Leybourn’s Cursus Mathematicus, Ward’s Young Mathematician’s Guide, Harris’ Algebra, &c. and a great many more; but these being the books in which I was ever most conversant, I remember them the better. I was even then equal to the management of quadratic equations, and their geometrical constructions. After we left Newby, I repeated the same studies in Bondgate, and went over all parts I had studied before, I believe not altogether unsuccessfully.

“Being about the age of sixteen, I was sent for to London, being thought, upon examination by Mr. Christopher Blackett, qualified to serve him as book-keeper in his counting-house. Here, after a year or two, I took the small-pox and suffered most severely under that distemper. I returned home again, and there with leisure on my hands, and a new addition of authors to those brought me from Newby, I renewed not only my mathematical studies, but began and prosecuted others, of a different turn, with much avidity and diligence. These were poetry, history, and antiquities; the charms of which quite destroyed all the heavier beauties of numbers in lines, whose applications and properties I now pursued no longer, except occasionally in teaching.

“I was, after some time employed in this manner, invited into Netherdale, my native air, where I first engaged in a school, and where, unfortunately enough for me, I married. The misconduct of the wife which that place afforded me, has procured me this prosecution, this prison, this infamy, and this sentence.

“During my marriage here, perceiving the deficiencies in my education, and sensible of my want of the learned languages, and prompted by an irresistible covetousness of knowledge, I commenced a series of studies in that way, and undertook the tediousness of the intricacies and the labor of grammar; I selected Lilly from the rest, all of which I got and repeated by heart. The task of repeating it all every day was impossible while I attended the school; so I divided it into portions; by which method it was pronounced thrice every week, and this I performed for years.

“I next became acquainted with Camden’s Greek Grammar, which I also repeated in the same manner, _memoriter_. Thus instructed, I entered upon the Latin classics, whose allurements repaid my assiduities and my labors. I remember to have, at first, overhung five lines for a whole day; and never, in all the painful course of my reading, left any one passage till I did, or thought I did, perfectly comprehend it.

“After I had accurately perused every one of the Latin classics, historians and poets, I went through the Greek Testament, first parsing every word as I proceeded; next I ventured upon Hesiod, Homer, Theocritus, Herodotus, Thucydides, and all the Greek tragedians: a tedious labor was this; but my former acquaintance with history lessened it extremely, because it threw light upon many passages, which without that assistance must have appeared obscure.

“In the midst of these literary pursuits a man and horse from my good friend William Norton, Esq., came for me from Knaresborough, bearing that gentleman’s letter inviting me thither; and accordingly I repaired there in some part of the year 1734, and was, I believe, well accepted and esteemed there. Here, not satisfied with my former acquisitions, I prosecuted the attainment of Hebrew, and with indefatigable diligence. I had Buxtorff’s grammar, but that being perplexed, or not explicit enough, at least in my opinion at that time, I collected no less than eight or ten different grammars and thus one very often supplied the omissions of the others, and was, I found, of extraordinary advantage. Then I purchased the Bible in the original and read the whole Pentateuch, with an intention to go through the whole of it, which I attempted, but wanted time.

“In April, I think the 18th, 1744, I went again to London, and agreed to teach the Latin and writing, for the Rev. Mr. Painblanc, in Piccadilly, which he, along with a salary, returned, by teaching me French; wherein I observed the pronunciation the most formidable part, at least to me, who had never before known a word of it. By continued application every night and every opportunity, I overcame this, and soon became a tolerable master of French. I remained in this situation two years and above.

“Some time after this I went to Hays, in the capacity of writing-master, and served a gentlewoman there, since dead; and stayed, after that, with a worthy and reverend gentleman. I continued here between three and four years. To several other places I then succeeded, and all that while used every occasion for improvement. I then transcribed acts of parliament to be registered in chancery; and after went down to the free-school at Lynn.

“From my leaving Knaresborough to this time is a long interval, which I had filled up with the farther study of history and antiquities, heraldry and botany; in the last of which I was very agreeably entertained, there being in that study so extensive a display of nature. I well knew Tournefort, Ray, Miller, Linnæus, &c. I made frequent visits to the botanic garden at Chelsea; and traced pleasure through a thousand fields: at last, few plants, domestic or exotic, were unknown to me. Amidst all this I ventured upon the Chaldee and Arabic; and, with a design to understand them, supplied myself with Erpenius, Chappelow, and others: but I had not time to obtain any great knowledge of the Arabic; the Chaldee I found easy enough, because of its connection with the Hebrew.

“I then investigated the Celtic, as far as possible, in all its dialects; began collections, and made comparisons between that, the English, the Latin, the Greek, and even the Hebrew. I had made notes, and compared above three thousand of these together, and found such a surprising affinity, even beyond any expectation or conception, that I was determined to proceed through the whole of these languages, and form a comparative lexicon, which I hoped would account for numberless vocables in use with us, the Latins, and Greeks, before concealed and unobserved: this, or something like it, was the design of a clergyman of great erudition in Scotland; but it must prove abortive, for he died before he executed it, and most of my books and papers are now scattered and lost.”

Such is the account Eugene Aram has given of himself, until the commission of the fatal act that brought down upon him the execration of the world and the last vengeance of the law. Of all the crimes man is capable of committing, there is none so offensive to Omnipotence as murder; and the Almighty, therefore, seems to be more intent to expose that heinous and accursed offence to mankind; to warn and admonish them, to show them that rocks cannot hide, nor distance secure them from the inevitable consequences of the violation of that law which nature dictates and man confirms. The extraordinary means by which this murder was brought to light, is one of the many instances of this divine interposition.

Daniel Clark was born at Knaresborough, of reputable parents, where he lived and followed the business of a shoemaker. About the month of January, 1744 or 5, he married, and became possessed of property to the amount of two or three hundred pounds. He was at that time in very good credit at Knaresborough, and it is supposed a scheme was then laid by Eugene Aram, at that time a schoolmaster in the town, and one Houseman, a flax-dresser, to defraud several tradesmen of great quantities of goods and plate, Clark having been chosen as the fittest person to carry their plan into execution; for, as he then lived in very good reputation, and, moreover, was lately married, he was the person of all others best calculated to effect the intended purpose. Accordingly, Clark for some days went about to various tradesmen in the town, and under the pretext that, as he was just married, it was not altogether irrational to suppose that cloth, and table and bed-linen, would considerably contribute to his matrimonial comfort, he took up great quantities of linen and woollen-drapery goods; the worthy dealers of Knaresborough rendering up their commodities with the greatest zeal and expedition on so interesting an occasion. After this, he went to several innkeepers and others, desiring to borrow a silver tankard of one, a nicely-worked silver pint of another, and the like, alleging that he was to have company that night, and should be glad of the use of them at supper; and in order to give a color to his story, he procured of the innkeepers (of whom he had borrowed the plate) ale and other liquors to regale his visitors.

Some suspicious circumstances, however, appearing that night and the following morning, a rumor got wind that Clark had absconded; and upon inquiry, most certainly, he was not to be found. An active search was immediately made for the goods and plate with which he had provided himself, when some part of the goods was found at Houseman’s house, and another part dug up in Aram’s garden: but as no plate could be found it was concluded, somewhat naturally, that with them Clark had decamped. The strictest inquiry was instantly set on foot to discover his retreat; persons were despatched to all parts; advertisements describing his person inserted in all the papers; but to no purpose.

Eugene Aram being suspected to be an accomplice, a process was granted against him by the steward of the honor of Knaresborough to arrest him for a debt due to a Mr. Norton, with a view to detain him till such time as a warrant could be obtained from the justice of the peace to apprehend him upon that charge. To the surprise of all, however, the money was instantly paid, and moreover, at the same time, a considerable mortgage upon his house at Bondgate was also discharged. Soon afterwards, Aram left the town, and was not heard of until the month of June, 1758, when the murder of Clark being traced to him, he was found residing at Lynn.

Upwards of thirteen years after Clark’s disappearance, it happened that a laborer employed in digging for stone to supply a lime-kiln, at a place called Thistle hill, near Knaresborough, striking about half a yard and half a quarter deep, turned up an arm bone and the small bone of the leg of a human skeleton. His curiosity being excited, he carefully removed the earth round about the place, and discovered all the bones belonging to a body, presenting an appearance, from their position, as though the body had been doubled at the hips, though the bones were all perfect. This remarkable accident being rumored in the town, gave rise to a suspicion that Daniel Clark had been murdered and buried there; for no other person had been missing thereabouts for sixty years and upwards. The coroner was instantly informed, and an inquest summoned.

The wife of Eugene Aram, who had frequently before given hints of her suspicions, was now examined. From her evidence, it appeared that Clark was an intimate acquaintance of Aram’s before the 8th of February, 1744-5, and they had had frequent transactions together, and with Houseman also. About two o’clock in the morning of the 8th of February, 1744-5, Aram, Clark, and Houseman came to Aram’s house and went up stairs, where they remained about an hour. They then went out together, and Clark being the last, she observed that he had a sack or wallet on his back. About four, Aram and Houseman returned, but without their companion. “Where is Clark?” she inquired; but her husband only returned an angry look in reply, and desired her to go to bed, which she refused, and told him, “she feared he had been doing something wrong.” Aram then went down stairs with the candle, and she being desirous to know what they were doing, followed them, and from the top of the stairs heard Houseman say, “She’s coming; if she does, she’ll tell.” “What can she tell, poor simple thing?” replied Aram; “she knows nothing. I’ll hold the door to prevent her coming.” “It’s of no use, something must be done,” returned Houseman; “if she don’t split now, she will some other time.” “No, no, foolish,” her husband said; “we’ll coax her a little till her passion is off, and then”--“What!” said Houseman sullenly.--“Shoot her,” whispered Aram, “shoot her!” Mrs. Aram, hearing this discourse, became very much alarmed, but remained quiet. At seven o’clock the same morning they both left the house, and she, immediately their backs were turned, went down stairs, and observed that there had been a fire below, and all the ashes taken out of the grate. She then examined the dunghill, and perceived ashes of a different kind lying upon it, and searching amongst them, found several pieces of linen and woollen cloth very nearly burnt, which had the appearance of wearing apparel. When she returned into the house, she found a handkerchief that she had lent to Houseman the night before, and a round spot of blood upon it about the size of a shilling. Houseman came back soon afterwards, and she charged him with having done some dreadful thing to Clark; but he pretended total ignorance, and added, “she was a fool, and knew not what she said.” From these circumstances, she fully and conscientiously believed that Daniel Clark was murdered by Houseman and Eugene Aram, on the 8th of February, 1744-5.

Several other witnesses were examined, all affirming that Houseman and Eugene Aram were the last persons seen with Clark, especially on the night of the 7th of February, being that after which he was missing. Upon hearing these testimonies, Houseman, who was present, was observed to become very restless, discovering all the signs of guilt, such as trembling, turning pale, and faltering in his speech. Few men guilty of the crime of murder have the strength of heart and self-command to conceal it: by some circumstance or other, the truth will out; a look, a dream, and not unfrequently, as in this case, their own unfaithful tongue, is the involuntary agent that brings at last the blackened culprit to that punishment which unerringly awaits the man that sheds his brother’s blood. Accordingly, upon the skeleton being produced, Houseman, taking up one of the bones, dropped this most unguarded expression: “This is no more Daniel Clark’s bone than it is mine.” “What?” remarked the coroner instantly--“what?--how is this? How can you be so sure that that is not Daniel Clark’s bone?” “Because I can produce a witness,” replied Houseman, in evident confusion--“because I can produce a witness, who saw Daniel Clark upon the road two days after he was missing at Knaresborough.” This witness was instantly summoned, and stated that he had never seen Clark after the 8th of February; a friend, however, had told him (and this only had he mentioned at first) that he met some one very like Clark; but, it being a snowy day, and the person having the cape of his great coat up, he could not say with the least degree of certainty who he was. This explanation, so far from proving satisfactory, increased the suspicion against Houseman; and accordingly a warrant was issued against him, and he was apprehended and brought before William Thornton, Esq., who, examining him, elicited a full acknowledgment of the fact of his having been with Clark on the night in question, on account of some money (twenty pounds) that he had lent him, and which he wanted at the time very pressingly. He further stated, that Clark begged him to accept the value in goods, to which proposition he assented, and was necessarily, therefore, several times to and fro between Clark’s house and his own, in order to remove the goods from one to the other. When he had finished, he left Clark at Aram’s house, with another man, whom he had never seen before. Aram and Clark, immediately afterwards, followed him out of the house of the former, and the stranger was with them. They then went in the direction of the market-place, which the light of the moon enabled him to see, and he lost sight of them. He disavowed most solemnly that he came back to Aram’s house that morning with Aram and Clark, as was asserted by Mrs. Aram; nor was he with Aram, but with Clark, at the house of the former on that night, whither he only went to see Clark in order to obtain from him the note.

Being then asked if he would sign this examination, he said he would rather waive it for the present, for he might have something to add, and therefore desired to have time to consider of it. The magistrate then committed him to York castle, when, expressing a wish to explain more fully, he was again brought before Mr. Thornton, and in his presence made the following confession:--That Daniel Clark was murdered by Eugene Aram, late of Knaresborough, a schoolmaster, and, as he believed, on Friday the 8th of February, 1744-5; for that Eugene Aram and Daniel Clark were together at Aram’s house early that morning, and that he (Houseman) left the house and went up the street a little before, and they called to him, desiring he would go a short way with them; and he accordingly went with them to a place called St. Robert’s cave, near Grimble bridge, where the two former stopped, and there he saw Aram strike Clark several times over the breast and head, and saw him fall as if he were dead; upon which he came away and left them; but whether Aram used any weapon or not to kill Clark, he could not tell, nor did he know what he did with the body afterwards, but believed that Aram left it at the mouth of the cave; for that, seeing Aram do this, lest he might share the same fate, he made the best of his way to the bridge-end, where, looking back, he saw Aram coming from the cave-side, (which is in a private rock adjoining the river,) and could discern a bundle in his hand, but did not know what it was: upon this he hastened away to the town, without either joining Aram or seeing him again till the next day, and from that time he had never had discourse with him. He stated, however, afterwards, that Clark’s body was buried in St. Robert’s cave, and that he was sure it was there, but desired it might remain till such time as Aram was taken. He added further, that Clark’s head lay to the right, in the turn at the entrance of the cave.

Proper persons were instantly appointed to examine St. Robert’s cave, when, agreeably to Houseman’s confession, the skeleton of a human body (the head lying as he had described) was found. A warrant was instantly issued to apprehend Eugene Aram, who was discovered to be living at Lynn in the capacity of usher at a school. He confessed before the magistrate that he was well acquainted with Clark, and, to the best of his remembrance, about or before the 8th of February, 1744-5, but utterly denied any participation in the frauds which Clark stood charged with at the time of his disappearance. He also declared that he knew nothing of the murder, and that the statements made by his wife were without exception false: he, however, declined to sign his examination, on the same plea preferred by Houseman, that he might recollect himself better, and lest any thing should be omitted which might afterwards occur to him. On being conducted to the castle, he desired to return, and acknowledged that he was at his own house when Houseman and Clark came to him with some plate, of which Clark had defrauded his neighbors. He could not but observe that the former was very diligent in assisting; in fact, it was altogether Houseman’s business; and there was no truth whatever in the statement that he came there to sign a note or instrument. All the leather which Clark had possessed himself of, amounting to a considerable value, was concealed under flax at Houseman’s house, with the intention of disposing of it little by little, to prevent any suspicion of his being concerned in the robbery. The plate was beaten flat in St. Robert’s cave. At four o’clock in the morning, they, thinking that it was too late to enable Clark to leave with safety, agreed that he should stay there till the next night, and he accordingly remained there all the following day. In order, then, the better to effect his escape, they both went down to the cave, Houseman only entering, while he watched without, lest any person should surprise them. On a sudden he heard a noise, and Houseman appeared at the mouth of the cave, and told him that Clark was gone. He had a bag with him, containing plate, which he said he had purchased of Clark, money being much more portable than such cumbersome articles. They then went to Houseman’s house, and concealed the property there, he fully believing that Clark had escaped. He never heard any thing of Clark subsequently, and was as much surprised to hear there was a suspicion of his being murdered, as that he (Eugene Aram) should be considered to be the murderer. Notwithstanding this surprise, however, his examination having been signed, he was committed with his companion to York castle, there to await the assizes.

On the third of August, 1759, they were both brought to the bar. Houseman was arraigned on the former indictment, acquitted, and admitted evidence against Aram, who was thereupon arraigned. Houseman was then called, and deposed to the same effect as that which has already appeared in his own confession. Several witnesses were called, who gave evidence as to finding several kinds of goods buried in Aram’s garden, Aram’s knowledge of the fact of Clark’s possessing two hundred pounds, and to show that they both had been seen together on the evening of the 7th of February. After which the skull was produced in court; on the left side there was a fracture, from the nature of which it was impossible to have been done but by the stroke of some blunt instrument. The skull was beaten inwards, and could not be replaced but from within. The surgeon gave it as his opinion, that no such breach could proceed from natural decay; that it was not a recent fracture made by the spade or axe by which it might have been dug up; but seemed to be of some years’ standing.

Eugene Aram’s defence, which he read, was marked with an undoubted manifestation of very considerable powers. It was learned and argumentative; and in some passages, glowing and eloquent. He attempted to show, that no rational inference can be drawn that a person is dead who suddenly disappears;--that hermitages such as St. Robert’s cave were the constant repositories of the bones of the recluse; that the proofs of this were well authenticated; and, that therefore the conclusion that the bones found were those of some one killed in battle, or of some ascetic, remained no less reasonably than impatiently expected by him. A verdict of guilty was however returned, and he was condemned to be hanged accordingly.

On the morning after his condemnation, he confessed the justice of his sentence to the two gentlemen who attended him, and acknowledged that he had murdered Clark. He told them, also, that he suspected Clark of having an unlawful commerce with his wife; and that at the time of the murder he felt persuaded he was acting right, but since, he had thought otherwise.[4]

It was generally believed, as he promised to make a more ample confession on the day he was executed of every thing prior to the murder, that the whole would have been disclosed; but he put an end to any farther discovery, by an attempt upon his own life. When he was called from his bed to have his chains taken off, he refused, alleging that he was very weak. On moving him, it was found that he had inflicted a severe wound upon his arm, from which the blood was flowing copiously. He had concealed a razor in the condemned hold some time before. By proper and prompt applications he was brought to himself, and though weak from loss of blood, conducted to Tyburn in York, where, being asked if he had any thing to say, he answered, “No.” He was then executed, and his body conveyed to Knaresborough Forest, and hung in chains, pursuant to his sentence.

That Eugene Aram murdered Clark is beyond all question, since we have his confession; that he committed the murder actuated by the cause he alleges, is open to great suspicion. The strange solicitude which all men, even the most vicious, manifest to leave behind a memory mingled with some little good, prompted him, doubtless, to give his crime the ennobling, or, at least, mitigatory motive to which he attributes it. Whether the perpetration of a murder can be justified, even urged by the wrong Aram states himself to have suspected, may be left to the consideration of the casuist; but whether the dreadful act can be extenuated by as deliberate and foul attack on the virtue and character of an innocent and industrious woman, whom he upon all occasions treated with infamous barbarity, is a question we can confidently leave to the judgment and moral sense of every man. That Eugene Aram was leagued with Clark and Houseman in their fraud at Knaresborough, there can be little doubt; that he plundered his unhappy victim after he had murdered him, there can be less; that no sense of domestic injury would urge a man to rob another who had wronged him after he had slain him, needs only to be mentioned to be admitted; and therefore, believing conscientiously from these facts that the charge against his wife was not maintainable, a double indignation is entailed upon the wretch who could add to the measure of his crime this gratuitous calumny.

Notwithstanding these facts and the inferences that every attentive reader must inevitably draw from them, Eugene Aram has been deemed a fit hero for a popular novel; and the execration with which he should have been consigned to posterity has been attempted to be converted into a sentimental commiseration for a gentle student who beats out his friend’s brains on philosophical principles, and converts his property to his own use purely with a view to the interests of science and the intellectual progression of the world at large.

FOOTNOTES:

[4] It is generally believed, and upon good grounds, we imagine, that Aram possessed himself of all the money Clark had received for his wife’s dower, (about one hundred and sixty pounds,) and there were strong circumstances to substantiate it; but it was thought unnecessary, sufficient proof having been adduced without it.

GEORGE BARRINGTON.

George Barrington, whose crimes have justly astonished his contemporaries, was originally a native and inhabitant of Ireland; and, as it will appear in the sequel that the name of Barrington was assumed, let it suffice to remark that his father’s name was Henry Waldron, and that he was a working silversmith; while his mother, whose maiden name was Naish, was a mantuamaker, and occasionally a midwife.

Our adventurer was born about the year 1755, at the village of Maynooth, in the county of Kildare. His parents, who bore a good character for their industry, integrity, and general good behavior, were, however, never able to rise to a state of independence, or security from indigence, owing to their engagement in a lawsuit with a more powerful and opulent relative, in order to the recovery of a legacy, to which they conceived they had a legal right. To the narrowness of their circumstances the neglect of their son’s education is imputed; and, therefore, they were incapable of improving, or of giving a proper bias to those early indications of natural abilities, and a superiority of talents, which must inevitably have unfolded themselves even in the dawn of young Barrington’s existence. He was, notwithstanding these obstacles, instructed in reading and writing at an early age at their expense; and afterwards, through the bounty of a medical gentleman in the neighborhood, he was initiated in the principles of common arithmetic, the elements of geography, and the outlines of English grammar.

This ill-fated youth, however, enjoyed but for a short time the benefits he derived from the kindness of his first patron, a dignitary of the church in Ireland; for the violence of his passions, which equalled at least the extent of his talents, precipitated him into an action by which he lost his favor forever, and which, in its consequences, finally proved his ruin. When he had been about half a year at the grammar-school in Dublin, to which he had been sent by his patron, he unluckily got into a dispute with a lad, much older, larger, and stronger than himself; the dispute degenerated into a quarrel, and some blows ensued, in which young Waldron suffered considerably; but in order to be revenged, he stabbed his antagonist with a penknife; and had he not been seasonably prevented, would have in all probability murdered him. The wounds which he gave did not prove so dangerous as to render the several circumstances of the quarrel which occasioned them a subject of legal investigation. The discipline of the house, (flogging,) however, was inflicted with proper severity on the perpetrator of so atrocious an offence, which irritated the unrelenting and vindictive temper of the young man to such a degree that he determined at once to run away from school, from his family, and from his friends; thus abandoning the fair prospects that he had before him, and blasting all the hopes that had been fondly, though vainly, formed of the great things that might be effected by his genius when matured by time and improved by study.

His plan of escape was no sooner formed than it was carried into execution; but previously to his departure he found means to steal ten or twelve guineas from the master of the school, and a gold repeating watch from Mrs. Goldsborough, the master’s sister. With this booty, a few shirts, and two or three pair of stockings, he silently but safely effected his retreat from the school-house, in the middle of a still night in the month of May, 1771; and pursuing the great northern road all that night, and all the next day, he late in the evening arrived at the town of Drogheda, without interruption, without accident, and in a great measure without halting, without rest, and without food.

The first place of safety at which young Waldron thought proper to halt, was at an obscure inn in Drogheda, where a company of strolling players happening to be at the time, it was the occasion of a new series of acquaintance, which, though formed on precipitation and on the spur of the occasion, was retained from choice and affection for a number of years.

One John Price, the manager of the strolling company, became quickly the confidant, and from the confidant the sole counsellor of the young fugitive Waldron, who, influenced by the ardor, the natural and unguarded ingenuousness of a youthful mind, communicated to this new friend, without reserve, all the circumstances of his life and story. By his advice this unhappy youth renounced his paternal name, assumed that of Barrington, entered into the company, and in the course of four days became so absolutely and formally a strolling son of Thespis, that he performed the part of Jaffier in “Venice Preserved,” with some applause, to a crowded audience, in a barn in the suburbs of Drogheda; and this without the assistance of a prompter.

Though the reception he met with on his debut was very flattering to a mind like his, Price, as well as himself, thought it would not be proper for him to appear in public so near the scene of his late depredations in the capital. It was, therefore, resolved on by them that the whole company should without delay move to the northward, and, if possible, get to the distance of sixty or eighty miles from Dublin before they halted for any length of time. In order to enable so numerous a body to move with all their baggage, it was necessary to raise money; and in doing this, Barrington’s assistance being the first thing that offered, was indispensably necessary. He was accordingly applied to, and acquiesced with a good grace, giving Price Mrs. Goldsborough’s gold repeater, which was disposed of for the general benefit of the strollers.

As soon as the necessary funds were procured, all these children of Thespis set out for Londonderry, which was the place at which they first designed to play. Travelling but slowly, they were a considerable time on their journey; and during the course of it, the penetrating eyes of the experienced actresses discovered that Barrington had made a tender impression on the heart of Miss Egerton, the young lady who played the part of Belvidera when he acted that of Jaffier at Drogheda. This poor girl was the daughter of an opulent tradesman at Coventry. She was young and beautiful, sweet-tempered and accomplished, but now friendless; and though, like the rest, inured to misfortune, she was destitute of the experience which is generally acquired during a series of sinister and untoward events. At the age of sixteen she was seduced by a lieutenant of marines, with whom she fled from her father’s house to Dublin, where in less than three months he abandoned her, leaving her a prey to poverty, infamy, and desperation.

Having been thus deceived in the simplicity of innocence by the cunning and falsehood of one of the vilest and most profligate of human beings, she had no other resource from the most extreme want than closing with Price, who proposed to her to join his company; which, situated as she was, she readily agreed to do, and had been with him but a very short time when she saw Barrington, of whom, being of a warm constitution, she became rather suddenly enamored. But to the credit of our adventurer, although his affection was as ardent as her own, it was not of that brutal and profligate cast that so frequently disgraces the devious paths of youthful imprudence and indiscretion. On the part of Miss Egerton, the symptoms of her affection for him were so obvious, that, inexperienced as he then was in matters of gallantry and intrigue, he not only perceived her passion but was sensible of her merit, and returned her love with perfect sincerity.

It was not long before Price, urged a second time by want of money, found it expedient to insinuate to the unfortunate Barrington, that a young man of his address and appearance might very easily find means to introduce himself into some of the public places to which the merchants and chapmen of that commercial city generally resorted; and that he there might, without any great difficulty, find opportunities of picking their pockets unnoticed, and of escaping undetected, more especially at that particular time, when, the fair being held, a favorable juncture afforded itself of executing a plan of such a nature with safety and facility. The idea pleased our needy adventurer, and the plan formed on it was carried into execution by him and his trusty confidant John Price, the very next day, with great success; at least such it appeared to them at that time, their acquisitions having amounted, on the close of the evening, to about forty guineas in cash, and above one hundred and fifty pounds, Irish currency, in bank-notes; which, however, they artfully determined not, on any account, to circulate in the part of the kingdom in which they were obtained. This precaution became peculiarly necessary; for several gentlemen having been robbed, the town took the alarm, which was the greater, or at least made the more noise, from the rarity of such events in that part of the kingdom, where the picking of pockets is said to be very little practised or known. But whatever the alarm was, or whatever noise it made, neither Barrington nor his accomplice was suspected. They however resolved to leave Derry as soon as they could with any appearance of propriety depart from thence: so that, having played a few nights as usual, with more applause than profit, they and their associates of the sock and buskin removed from Londonderry to Ballyshannon, in the county of Donegal, and never more returned into that part of the kingdom, where George Barrington may be considered as having commenced the business of a regular and professed pickpocket, in the summer of the year 1771, being at that time little more than sixteen years of age, and having just laid by the profession of a strolling player.

This wretched company having now become thieves as well as vagrants in the eye of the law, and compelled to subsist upon the plunder above mentioned, after travelling about a fortnight, arrived at Ballyshannon. Here Barrington, with the company to which he belonged, spent the autumn and the winter of the year 1771, playing generally on Tuesdays and Saturdays, and picking pockets with John Price every day in the week, whenever opportunity offered; a business which, though attended with danger and certain infamy, he found more lucrative and more entertaining than that of the theatre, where his fame and his proficiency were by no means equal to the expectations he had raised, or to the hopes that had been formed of him on his first appearance at Drogheda.

From Ballyshannon, at length, having left the company of his friend Price, he moved to the southward, with his faithful Miss Egerton, whom he had the misfortune to lose forever in crossing the river Boyne, in which she was drowned, through the ignorance, or the more culpable negligence, of a ferryman.

Barrington, however, virtuous in his attachment to Miss Egerton, was for some time inconsolable for the loss which he had just sustained; but being neither of an age nor of a temper propitious to the continuance of sorrowful sensations, he hastened to Limerick, where he hoped to meet Price, his old accomplice. On his arrival in that city, he learned that the person after whom he had inquired had set out for Cork ten days before, and thither our adventurer followed him, and found him within an hour after he entered the town gates. On their meeting, it was agreed on by them never more to think of the stage; a resolution which was the more easily executed, as the company to which they originally belonged was now broken up and dispersed. It was besides settled between them that Price should pass for Barrington’s servant, and that Barrington should act the part of a young gentleman of large fortune and of a noble family, who was not yet quite of age, but, until he should attain that period, travelled for his amusement. In pursuance of this hopeful scheme, horses were purchased, and the master and man, now united as knight-errant and esquire, and well equipped for every purpose of depredation, accordingly took their determination to act their several parts in the wild field of adventure; and thus, in the summer of 1772, as the race grounds in the south of Ireland presented themselves as the fairest objects, they hastened to these scenes of spoliation, and were successful even beyond their expectation.

Picking pockets being rather new amongst the gentry of Ireland, their want of precaution rendered them a more easy prey to Mr. Barrington and his accomplice, who found means to retire to Cork on the setting in of winter, with a booty of nearly one thousand pounds. In this city they found it convenient to fix their residence, at least till the next spring. And now it was that Barrington first determined within himself to become what has been called a gentleman pickpocket, and to affect both the airs and importance of a man of fashion.

In this desperate career of vice and folly, it was the fate of Price, the preceptor of Barrington, to be first detected in the act of picking the pocket of a gentleman of high rank, for which he was tried, convicted, and in a very short period sentenced to transportation, for the term of seven years, to America.

Barrington, naturally alarmed at the fate of his iniquitous preceptor, without loss of time converted all his movable property into cash, and taking horse, made as precipitate a journey to Dublin as he possibly could.

On his arrival there, he lived rather in a private and retired manner, only lurking in the darkest evenings about the playhouses, where he occasionally picked up a few guineas or a watch. But he was soon weary of the sameness, and disgusted with the obscurity of a life of comparative retirement, such as that he led in the Irish capital; so that when the spring and the fine weather that accompanied it returned, he embarked on board the Dorset yacht, which was then on the point of sailing with the duke of Leinster for Parkgate; and before the expiration of a week, he found himself for the first time of his life on English ground.

With Sir Alexander Schomberg, who commanded the Dorset yacht, there were three other persons embarked, and of some distinction, from whence it appeared that the connection which our adventurer formed with them had considerable effect afterwards in the course of the long succession of transactions in which he was engaged. A young captain was one of the three who was most conspicuous, and, as it will appear, a striking, though an innocent cause of Barrington’s success in his projects of depredation.

It did not require so much sagacity and penetration as Barrington at the time certainly possessed, to penetrate into the character of this young gentleman, and to predict the good consequences that might follow an intimacy with a young man of his rank, disposition, and family. Actuated by a sordid sense of the utility of such a connection to one in his circumstances, the adventurer employed all those base arts of flattery and insinuation of which he had been long a perfect master, to ingratiate himself with this gentleman; and in this design he succeeded to the utmost extent of his wishes. Barrington formed an artful tale, which he told as his own story, the purport of which was, that his father was a man of a noble family in Ireland, and illustrious in England, to which country he himself now came to study law in one of the inns of court, more, however, to avoid the ill-natured severity of a harsh, unrelenting step-mother, which rendered his paternal mansion in a great measure intolerable to him, than from any predilection for the profession to which he intended to apply himself, but the exercise of which the ample fortune that he was heir to would render unnecessary.

The story took as well as could be desired by the inventor of it, and it was settled between him and his new friend that he should, on his arrival in town, enter himself of the Middle Temple, where Mr. H----n had some relations and a numerous acquaintance, to whom, he said, he should be happy to introduce a gentleman so eminently distinguished by his talents and his accomplishments, as well as by his fortune and birth, as Mr. Barrington was.

It was also further agreed on between them, that they should travel together to London; and they accordingly the next day took a post-chaise at Parkgate, and continuing their journey by easy stages through Chester, Nantwich, and Coventry, where they stopped two or three days, arrived by the end of the week at the Bath coffee-house in Piccadilly, which, on the recommendation of the captain, who had been several times before in the metropolis, was fixed upon as their head-quarters for the remaining part of the summer.

But the expensive manner in which he lived with Mr. H----n, and those to whose acquaintance that gentleman introduced him, all of them gay, sprightly young fellows, who had money at command, in less than a month reduced the funds which Barrington had brought with him from Ireland to about twenty guineas, which to him, who had been now for some years accustomed to live like a man of affluent fortune, seemed to afford a very inconsiderable resource: he therefore resolutely determined to procure a supply of money by some means or other. One evening, while he was deliberating with himself on the choice of expedients to recruit his finances, he was interrupted in his meditations on the subject by the arrival of a party of his friends with the captain, who proposed to accompany them to Ranelagh, where they had agreed to meet some of their acquaintance, and to spend the evening. Their proposal was, without much hesitation, acceded to by Barrington, and they, without further loss of time, ordered coaches to set them down at that celebrated place of amusement.

Walking in the middle of the gay scenes that surrounded him, he chanced to espy the two other companions of his voyage in the Dorset packet, to whom he only made a slight bow of recognition; and in less than a quarter of an hour afterwards he saw the duke of Leinster engaged deeply in conversation with two ladies and a knight of the Bath, who, it afterwards turned out, was Sir William Draper; and near these he placed himself, quitting for a short time the company to which he belonged. While he was stationed there, an opportunity, which he considered a fair one, offered itself of making a good booty, and he availed himself of it: he picked the duke’s pocket of above eighty pounds, Sir William’s of five and thirty guineas, and one of the ladies of her watch, with all which he got off undiscovered by the parties, and joined the captain and his party as if nothing had happened out of the ordinary and common routine of affairs in such places of public recreation as Ranelagh.

A degree of fatality, rather unfortunate for Barrington, it seems, occurred during the perpetration of the robbery just related; that is to say, he was observed in the very act by one of the persons who came with him in the Dorset yacht from Ireland to Parkgate; and this man, who was also a practitioner in the same trade of infamy, lost no time in communicating what he saw to Barrington himself, and that in a manner not by any means calculated to conceal his triumph on the occasion: in fact, this gentleman’s affairs being pressing, he made very little ceremony of informing Mr. Barrington that, unless he was willing to give him a share of the plunder, he should communicate to the parties robbed, without delay, the particulars of what he had seen. The consequences of a proposal of this nature presenting a disagreeable alternative, Mr. Barrington, as it may be imagined, naturally chose the least of two evils, and, under pretence of being attacked with a sudden complaint, immediately retired with his new acquaintance to town, and putting up at the Golden Cross inn, at Charing-cross, the booty acquired at Ranelagh was in some sense divided, the new intruder contenting himself with taking the lady’s watch, chain, &c., which were of gold, and a ten pound note, leaving all the rest of the money and the bank-papers with Mr. Barrington, who, he probably conceived, had run the greatest risk to obtain them at first.

But in order to cement the connection which these two were now on the point of forming, Mr. James (for by that name this new accomplice called himself,) insisted upon Barrington supping with him; and as Mr. James knew the town much better than himself, Barrington thought he would be a real acquisition, particularly in helping him to dispose of the valuables he might acquire. Picking pockets, therefore, was proposed by Mr. Barrington as a joint concern.

The outlines of the future operations of these adventurous colleagues being adjusted, it was further agreed upon to have another interview on the next day at a tavern in the Strand, there to regulate the plan of their future conduct; and affairs being so far arranged, Barrington returned to his lodgings at the Bath coffee-house, where, luckily enough, neither captain H----n nor any of his party were at that time arrived from Ranelagh.

The next morning, at breakfast, he informed his friend the captain, that on his return last night, he chanced to meet a very worthy relation of his, Sir Fitzwilliam Barrington, who engaged him that day to dinner; so that it would be out of his power to make one of the party that were to spend the day with the captain at the Thatched-house tavern; but that, however, he would endeavor to contrive matters so as to join them early in the evening, and stay to supper with them, if they were bent upon keeping it up to a late hour.

This apology was received without any suspicion by the gentleman to whom it was made, as it accounted plausibly enough for his fellow-traveller’s absenting himself, notwithstanding a kind of prior engagement to Mr. H----n.

Afterwards, Barrington being dressed, called a coach and drove to the Crown and Anchor tavern, where he found Mr. James, who had been for some time waiting for him. The cloth being removed, and the servants withdrawn, these worthy gentlemen entered upon business. It was agreed upon, that whatever either acquired, should be equally divided between them; and that in the sale of watches, jewels, or any other articles they might have to dispose of, both should be present. By this provision, no suspicion of fraud could be entertained; and thus Barrington got what he extremely wished, and greatly wanted, an introduction to a _fence_, or a receiver of stolen goods. It was farther settled by them, that while the captain remained in town, they should take care not to be seen together, and that Mr. James should resume his long neglected habit of a clergyman. These weighty conditions, and some others of equal magnitude and importance, being ultimately adjusted to the satisfaction of these systematic plunderers, it was determined on that they should meet regularly twice a week, that is, on Tuesdays and Fridays, to settle with each other; but never, if it could possibly be avoided, twice at the same house. Having then adjourned to the next Tuesday, and fixed on the Devil tavern, at Temple-bar, as the place of their next meeting, our adventurers separated for that time, Barrington going, according to his appointment, to the Thatched-house tavern, and reaching it about eight in the evening, where he found his friend the captain and a large party of his acquaintance. Though rather far gone in liquor, most of them knew him personally, and considering him in the light in which he was represented to them by captain H----n, as a young man of condition, they were delighted with his company. He only waited till the bills were called for, and the reckoning discharged, when, there being no farther obstacle to a hasty retreat, he plundered those who were most off their guard; or rather those who, as he supposed, were possessed of the most portable kind of property. Still, as the prey then made consisted more of watches and trinkets than ready cash, he was under the necessity of calling upon Mr. James, his new friend, next morning, who readily introduced him to a man, a receiver of stolen property, and who paying them what they deemed an adequate consideration, they made the first division with as much apparent satisfaction as if they had been lawful dealers in the commodities of which they had unjustly deprived the right owners.