Chapter XI: Part 11

So strongly did appearance plead for him at this time, that Barrington’s depredation was never imputed to him by those who suffered in consequence of it; and though similar offences were at different seasons, for upwards of two years, committed by him without suspicion or detection, he preserved his fame, and even extended his acquaintance. With certain superficial qualifications for shining in company, and yet a stranger to honor or honesty, in the summer of the year 1775, in the course of his depredations, he visited, as his custom was, the most celebrated watering-places; and among the rest he went to Brighton, which at that time, though frequented by genteel company, was far from having arrived at the celebrity which it has since acquired, especially since the conclusion of the peace with France. But notwithstanding the paucity of numbers at this watering-place, he is said to have had the address to ingratiate himself into the notice and favor of the late duke of Ancaster, with several other persons of rank and property, who all considered him as a man of genius and ability, and as a gentleman of fortune and noble family.

But, in tracing all Mr. Barrington’s very singular connections, it is necessary to remark, that about the conclusion of this winter he got acquainted with one Lowe, a very singular character, and one who, like his friend James, he occasionally made use of to vend his ill-gotten property.

Mr. Barrington’s new junction with Mr. Lowe having rendered Mr. James rather a dead weight upon his hands, he began to think about breaking with him, which he did not find a difficult matter, as James, having at bottom some remorse of conscience for his neglect of the laws of justice and moral obligation, very easily quitted Mr. Barrington’s connection; and what is more extraordinary, being a Roman Catholic by profession, retired to a monastery upon the continent, there in all probability to end his days in piety and peace. Barrington, on the other hand, seemed to increase in temerity and desperation; for on his forming a connection with Lowe, which was but a short time previous to that evening of the month of January which was observed as the anniversary of the queen’s birthday, it was resolved on between them, that, habited as a clergyman, he should repair to court, and there endeavor, not only to pick the pockets of some of the company, but, what was a bolder and a much more novel attempt, to cut off the diamond orders of some of the knights of the Garter, Bath, and Thistle, who on such days usually wear the collars of their respective orders over their coats. In this enterprize he succeeded beyond the most sanguine expectations that could have been formed by either his new accomplice Lowe or himself; for he found means to deprive a nobleman of his diamond order, and also contrived to get away from the palace without suspicion. This being an article of too much value to dispose of in England, it is reported that it was sold to a Dutchman, or rather to a Dutch Jew, who came over from Holland once or twice a year for the sole object of buying jewels that had been stolen; and though a stranger, he is generally reported to have given a much higher price for such articles than could have been gotten from the receivers in town.

The celebrated Russian prince Orloff paid his first visit to England in the winter of 1775. The high degree of estimation in which that nobleman had long been held by the late empress Catharine, had ultimately heaped upon him not a few of her distinguishing favors. Among other things of this nature, she had expressed her approbation of his merits by presenting him with a gold snuff-box, set with brilliants generally supposed to have been worth no less a sum than thirty thousand pounds. This distinguishing trophy having caught the eye of Barrington, impelled him to contrive means to get it into his possession, and he thought a fit opportunity presented itself one night at Covent Garden theatre, where, getting near the prince, he had the dexterity to convey it out of his excellency’s waistcoat pocket into his own; when, being immediately suspected by the prince, he seized him by the collar; but, in the bustle that took place, Barrington slipped the box into his hand, which that nobleman gladly retained, though Barrington, to the astonishment of all around, was secured and lodged in Tothill-fields Bridewell till the Wednesday following, when his examination took place at the public office in Bow street.

Sir John Fielding being at that time the magistrate, Barrington represented himself to him as a native of Ireland, of an affluent and respectable family. He said that he had been educated in the medical line, and came to England to improve himself by the extent of his connections. To this plausible representation he added so many tears, and seemed to rest so much upon his being an unfortunate gentleman, rather than a guilty culprit, that prince Orloff declining to prosecute him, he was dismissed with an admonition from the magistrate to amend his future conduct; but this, it will appear, had no manner of influence upon his subsequent proceedings. In fact, Barrington having gone too far to recede, every one now taking alarm at his character and conduct, and the public prints naturally holding him up as a cheat and impostor, he was even forsaken by those who, until that discovery of his practices, generally countenanced him, and enjoyed his company as a young gentleman of no common abilities.

Being in the lobby of the lords one day, when an appeal of an interesting nature was expected to come on, so that Barrington thought to profit by numbers of genteel people that generally attend; unhappily for Barrington’s projects, a gentleman recognised his person, and applying to the deputy usher of the black rod, Barrington was disgracefully turned out, and, of course, totally disappointed of the harvest he had promised himself.

Barrington, having by some means heard that this gentleman was the person who had denounced him to the keeper of the lobby, was so indiscreet as to threaten him with revenge for what he deemed an unmerited injury; but, the magistrates thinking otherwise, they granted, upon that gentleman’s complaint, a warrant against Barrington to bind him over to keep the peace. His credit having sunk so very low, that not one of all his numerous acquaintance would become a surety for him, he was compelled to go to Tothill-fields Bridewell, where he remained a considerable time under confinement, from his inability to procure the bail that was required. However, having again obtained a release from that disagreeable quarter, he had no alternative but that of his old profession, and, therefore, in about three months afterwards, we find him detected in picking the pocket of a low woman, at Drury-Lane theatre, for which, being indicted and convicted at the Old Bailey, he was sentenced to ballast-heaving, or, in other words, to three years’ hard labor on the river Thames, on board of the hulks at Woolwich. As soon as it was convenient, in the spring of 1777, Barrington was put on board one of these vessels.

A sudden remove from ease and affluence to a scene of wretched servitude and suffering, and the privation of almost every comfort in life, could not but have a most sensible effect upon a man in his condition. In short, he was not only harassed and fatigued with labor, to which he had been unaccustomed, but even disgusted with the filthy language of his fellow-convicts, whose blasphemous effusions, which they seemed to make use of by way of amusement, must have been a constant source of the most disagreeable sensations in the mind of almost any person not totally lost to the feelings and the decencies of civilized, or even a savage state of existence. At length the mental, as well as the corporeal sufferings of Barrington, did not escape the notice of Messrs. Erskine and Duncan Campbell, the superintendents of the convicts; for, in consequence of Barrington’s good behavior, and through the interference of these gentlemen, he was again set at liberty, after sustaining nearly a twelvemonth’s severe suffering on board the hulks of Woolwich.

Still, nothing that Barrington had yet undergone was sufficient to produce any cordial repentance in his mind. He again entered into the full practice of his former profession. In less than six months after his liberation from hard labor, he was detected by one Payne, a very zealous constable in the city, in the very act of picking pockets at St. Sepulchre’s church during divine service, and being convicted upon undeniable evidence at the ensuing Old Bailey sessions, he was a second time sentenced to hard labor on board the hulks, and that for five years.

It was upon his trial on this occasion, that Barrington was first noticed in the public prints as an able speaker. He then essayed, with no small degree of artifice, to interest the feelings of the court in his behalf; but the evidences of his guilt being too forcible and repeated, and all his efforts proving abortive, he was once more removed to the hulks, about the middle of the year 1778. Being a second time in this humiliating and disgraceful situation, he found his imaginary consequence so much hurt, that, failing in a variety of plans to effect his escape, his next attempt was to destroy himself. For this purpose, he took an opportunity to be seen stabbing himself with a penknife in the breast; but as the wound, by the immediate application of medical assistance, was slowly healed, he continued to linger in this new state of wretchedness, till, happening to be seen by a gentleman who came to visit the hulks, it produced another event in his favor.

The gentleman just alluded to being most sensibly affected by the dejected and squalid appearance of Barrington, made a most successful use of his influence with government to obtain Barrington’s release, upon the condition that he should leave the kingdom. To this as Barrington gladly assented, he generously supplied him with a sum of money to defray the expense of his removal to Ireland, where it is understood this unhappy offender always persisted in stating that he had friends and relatives of credit and character. In London he did not think proper to stay longer than was needful to procure necessaries for his journey; he therefore took the Chester coach, and in the course of a week was enabled to reach the Irish capital, where his fame having arrived before, he was looked upon with such an eye of suspicion, that he was shortly apprehended for picking the pocket of an Irish nobleman of a gold watch and his money at one of the theatres, and was soon after committed to the New Gaol to be tried upon the charge, but was acquitted for want of evidence.

Though he was acquitted on this occasion, he was perfectly convinced that the Irish capital would be too warm to retain him. He quickly determined to leave Ireland, and accordingly removed to the northern parts of that kingdom, through which he took his way to Edinburgh, where he concluded that he might, for some time at least, commit his depredations with greater safety and facility than he could do either in London or Dublin.

But, in the opinion which he had formed of the character of the Scots, he soon learned by experience that he was grossly mistaken; for he was quickly observed in the capital of Scotland, where the police is more vigilant and severe than in most other parts of the British dominions. He therefore thought it prudent to depart from Edinburgh, where his gleanings were comparatively small.

However, being determined to return to London, he took Chester in his way, and it being fair-time there, he is said to have contrived to get possession of the amount of six hundred pounds in cash and bank notes, with which he got clear off.

Such are the delusions of vice and the fatal sweets of ill-gotten wealth, that, though additional danger attended his public appearance, from the infraction of the terms on which he was liberated from his confinement on board the hulks, (which were those of his leaving the kingdom and never more returning to it,) still he frequented the theatres, the Opera House, and the Pantheon, with tolerable success. But he was now too notorious to be long secure: he was closely watched and well-nigh detected at the latter of these places; at least, such strong suspicions were entertained by the magistrates of his conduct on the occasion, that he was taken into custody, and committed to Newgate.

Here again, for want of evidence, he got clear of the charge brought against him; but, notwithstanding this, he was unexpectedly detained at the instance of Mr. Duncan Campbell, the superintendent of the convicts, for having returned to England in violation of the condition on which his majesty was pleased to grant him a remission of the punishment which he was sentenced to undergo on board the hulks; and the consequence of the detainer was, that he was made what is called a _fine_ at Newgate, during the unexpired part of the time that he was originally to have served on the Thames. When the period of his captivity in this prison expired, he was, as a matter of course, set at liberty; and as usual, no sooner obtained his liberty, than he returned to his former practices. He, however, was now more cautious; and being connected with some accomplices of his own cast, he was not so easily detected as he might have been with others less experienced.

In a state of alarm and anxiety, he lived a considerable time in the society of the most profligate and abandoned characters of the metropolis, when he was seen to pick the pocket of Mr. Le Mesurier, at Drury-lane playhouse, and was immediately apprehended. Charge of him was given to one Blandy, a constable, who, through negligence or corruption, suffered him to make his escape. The proceedings against him were carried on to an outlawry, and various methods were made use of to detect him, for nearly two years, without effect.

But while the lawyers were outlawing him, and the constables endeavoring to take him, he was travelling in various disguises and characters through the northern counties of this kingdom. He visited the great towns in those parts as a quack-doctor, or as a clergyman; sometimes he went with an E. O. table, and sometimes he pretended to be a rider to a manufacturing house at Birmingham or Manchester; and travelling on horseback, with a decent deportment and grave appearance, the account which he thought proper to give of himself was credited, without any difficulty, by those who questioned him.

But, in spite of all these precautions, it sometimes happened that he was known by gentlemen whom he met, once particularly in Lincolnshire; yet no one offered to molest or intercept him, until he arrived at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, where, on being recognised, he was suspected of picking pockets, and, on inquiry, was discovered to be an outlaw: upon which he was removed by a writ of habeas corpus to London, and imprisoned in Newgate, where he arrived miserable and so dejected, that on learning his circumstances, some of his friends made a subscription for him, by which he was enabled to employ counsel, and to take legal measures to have the outlawry against him reversed.

This being effected, he was tried for the original offence, that of stealing Mr. Le Mesurier’s purse; but, through the absence of the Rev. Mr. Adeane, a material witness for the prosecution, he was acquitted. Being once more enlarged, he again set off for Ireland, in company with a young man of the name of Hubert, well known in town for his fraud on the duke of York. With this accomplice, he was so infatuated as to endeavor to carry on his depredations in Dublin, where it was never his fortune to remain for any length of time undetected; for, Hubert being taken in the act of picking a gentleman’s pocket, and handing the property to Barrington, he with great difficulty made his escape to England, where he rambled about for some time previously to his arrival in the capital, which he had scarcely entered, when he was taken into custody for picking Mr. Henry Hare Townsend’s pocket of a gold watch.

Hubert, his accomplice, was tried at Dublin, and sentenced to transportation for seven years; but he afterwards contrived to make his escape.

On Wednesday morning, September 15th, 1790, Barrington was put to the bar to be arraigned on an indictment charging him with stealing, on the 1st of September, 1790, in the parish of Enfield, a gold watch, chain, and seals, the property of Henry Hare Townsend, Esq. Upon this occasion Barrington displayed all the talents which it has been universally admitted he possessed; but in spite of a long speech, which professed, whether sincere or assumed, great contrition for his past offences, and a determination to amend his life for the future, he was convicted, and sentenced by the judge to seven years’ transportation.

During the voyage to Port Jackson, Barrington rendered an essential service in quelling a mutiny in the vessel. Upon this occasion the captain evinced his gratitude for the services he had performed, and when they had reached the Cape, at the recommendation of the former, he received a hundred dollars reward for his zeal and activity.

On their arrival at Port Jackson, Barrington having been recommended to the governor, was placed in the first instance at Tamgabbe as a subordinate, and was soon advanced to be a principal watchman, in which situation he acquitted himself as a useful and active officer; insomuch that the governor determined to withdraw him from the convicts; and at the same time that he received his instrument of emancipation, he was presented with a grant of thirty acres of land at Paramatta. He was subsequently appointed superintendent of the convicts; and although not permitted to return to England, was invested with all the immunities of a freeman, a settler, and a civil officer, and had the satisfaction to know that his diligence and activity were not only without suspicion, but were fully appreciated.

It was here that Barrington resolved to revise the notes he had taken during the voyage, and of describing more fully the places they had touched at. He has accordingly produced a very useful and instructive work.

In addition to this performance, he compiled a complete history of the country itself, from its first discovery, comprehending an account of its original inhabitants, their customs and manners, accompanied with an historical detail of the proceedings of the colony from its foundation to his own time.

He continued in the situation in which the governor had placed him till his death; and performed the duties of his office with an unwearied assiduity, which at last superinduced a general decay of nature, of which he died in the year 1811.

JAMES PORTER

Was an Irishman, and a weaver by trade. He had been a robber in his own country. We know not what events induced him to seek a refuge in America, or what were his first adventures on this side of the Atlantic. We first find him in Philadelphia, ostensibly working at his trade, but in reality gaining his livelihood by dishonest practices. He had two accomplices, George Wilson and Abraham Poteet, weavers, who had learned their trade in the penitentiary. The former was but twenty-three years of age; yet, though his days were few, his iniquities were many. Poteet had been convicted at the Baltimore city court of stealing four handkerchiefs, for which he was sentenced to five years’ imprisonment. For a second theft he was sentenced to imprisonment. He had also been convicted of breaking prison, of attempting a stage robbery and wounding the driver, and of shooting at the keeper of the Baltimore penitentiary. He was a native of Baltimore, and Wilson also was an American. They became acquainted in the penitentiary, and were jointly concerned in the attempt to break out, in which the life of the keeper was endangered. Such were James Porter and his associates.

Porter and Poteet became tired of stealing _wee things_, for so silver spoons were denominated by Porter, and resolved to rob the Reading mail, in order to make their fortune at once. To prepare for this exploit Porter and Wilson crossed the Schuylkill, on the 20th of November, 1829, and broke into the shop of Mr. Watt, a gunsmith. They took thence five pistols and two powder-flasks. After this the three companions repeatedly practised with their pistols to ascertain their qualities.

On the 6th of December, the mail stage started from Philadelphia at two in the morning, driven by one Samuel M’Crea. There were nine passengers inside, and another on the box with the driver. The night was dark and cloudy. When the stage had got two miles from the city and was nearly opposite Turner’s lane, Porter started from the road-side, took the off leading horse by the head and turned him round. At the same time Wilson and Poteet came up, one on each side of the coach, with presented pistols, bidding the driver stop, “or they would blow his d--d brains out.” He struck the horses with his whip, but could not make them go forward. Poteet then ordered the driver and the passenger who sat beside him to come down. The driver obeyed, and the passenger was about descending, when Porter swore at his comrades for not putting out the lamps. Poteet put out the lamp on his side with the butt of his pistol: Wilson merely broke the glass of the lamp next him. Porter then left the horses’ heads, ran up and dashed the light out with his pistol. He asked the passenger if he had any weapons, and being answered in the negative, took his handkerchief and tied his hands with it. The robbers then rifled the passenger and bound the driver. Poteet asked the driver if he did not think this a very rough introduction. He answered that it was. The robber then asked him if he got his living by stage driving, and he replied that he did, and “it was a hard way too.” “Well,” said the ruffian, “this is the way we get our living, and ’tis very hard with us sometimes.” While these matters were going on Poteet and Wilson held their pistols in their hands, but Porter, more collected, thrust his into his bosom.

This done, Porter and Poteet went to the doors, while Wilson watched the two bondmen. Porter told the passengers they should receive no injury if they did not resist. A Mr. Clarke proposed to attack the robbers, but was overruled by the rest of the passengers. The gentlemen then concealed some of their valuables. Porter asked if any of them were armed, and being answered in the negative, answered sneeringly, that “it was a pity.”

The thieves next compelled the true men to alight, one by one. Porter searched them, and tied their hands with their kerchiefs. As fast as he tied them he turned them over to Poteet, who kept them quiet with his pistol. One of the passengers, after being tied, asked the robbers for a quid of tobacco, which was put into his mouth by Poteet. Another was very reluctant to part with his watch, which he said had been long in his family, and at his urgent entreaty Poteet restored it. From another, who was a physician, Poteet took the seal of a corporation and a case of lancets, but put them back into the doctor’s pockets on being told what they were. The gentleman then asked Porter for half a dollar to pay for his breakfast, and the robber complied. Another of the passengers asked Porter to restore his papers. “O,” said the ruffian, “I dare say all this business will be published, and then I shall know where to direct the papers. I will send you a letter.”

Mr. Clarke was the last but one who came out of the coach. As Porter was plundering him he said, that if the other passengers had followed his advice they would not have been robbed. “Well done!” replied the robber. “I like to see a man of spunk.” After being tied, Mr. Clarke walked up to Poteet, in order to be able to recognise him if they should meet again. The rogue bade him stand off. “I hope,” said Mr. Clarke, “you are not afraid of a small man, and he bound too.” “No, sir,” said Poteet, “but I don’t want to be better acquainted with you.” “I hope,” rejoined Mr. Clarke, “that we shall have a longer acquaintance than this yet.” “I hope not, sir,” said Poteet. On Mr. Clarke’s again observing that the passengers would have done better to resist, Porter remarked that if they had, they would have seen the consequences.

After the passengers had all been examined, the robbers took the baggage out of the coach and from before and behind it. They then tried to open the boot in which the mail bags were contained, but finding some difficulty, they compelled the driver to do it. Mr. Clarke now remarked that another stage would soon be along, and this intelligence quickened their proceedings. One of them busied himself in rifling the mails and trunks, while the other two put the passengers into the coach again without untying them. They tied the driver again and lifted him into his seat, after which they tied the leading horses to the fence by the road side. This done, the robbers went off, so softly that neither the driver nor any of the passengers were aware of their departure.

The gentlemen sat still in the coach some minutes after they were gone, till one of them contrived to untie himself, and unbound the rest. After some consultation, it was thought best to return to the city. When they arrived at the post-office a person was despatched to the scene of the robbery, where he found the mail bags cut open and the packages and newspapers scattered around, but the villains had carried away the letters.

On the 16th of December, Wilson carried one of the watches they had taken to Crosswell Holmes, a pawnbroker, and pledged it for twenty dollars. He said he was a carpenter unable to get employment, and was therefore obliged to raise money on his watch. He agreed to pay Mr. Holmes in -- days, with two dollars commission, and signed the obligation “John James, North Second street.”

On the 21st, Porter carried another watch (a golden one) to a Mr. Prentiss, a pawnbroker, and asked sixty dollars on it. Mr. Prentiss refused to advance more than forty-five, when Porter left him, saying he could get fifty anywhere. On this occasion he represented himself as a carpenter, who wanted money to repair his house. The next day Wilson called on Mr. Prentiss with the same watch, saying the gentleman who owned it had made up his mind to take the forty-five dollars offered, and that he would act as his agent. Mr. Prentiss gave him the money, and wrote a receipt, which Wilson signed “George Brown, for John Keys.”

Nothing occurred to direct suspicion to either of our rogues as the robbers of the mail till the middle of January, when a Mr. Jeffers, a police officer of Baltimore, found reason to believe that Poteet and Wilson were the persons who shot at the keeper of the penitentiary and at the stage driver before mentioned. He sought them, and found Wilson first, in a tavern. The robber drew a pistol from his pocket and bade Mr. Jeffers stand off, but the latter seized him by the wrist and collar and held him till the landlord came into the room. The landlord took the pistol from Wilson at the request of Jeffers, who then asked the culprit for the other, but he denied having any. However, after the police officer had nearly strangled him he gave up another. Mr. Jeffers thrust him into a chair, when he said, “Let me stand up, and I’ll give it to you.” With the landlord’s assistance, Mr. Jeffers took him to a magistrate’s office. He was committed to prison.

The next day Mr. Jeffers visited him, and told him he had heard that two men had offered to pawn a gold watch, and he believed from the description that he was one of them. At the same time he gave Wilson a description of the other man. Wilson replied that it was Porter, and but for him, he, Wilson, would not have been in this difficulty. He added that Porter had a better right to suffer than himself, and he would therefore disclose the whole matter. His story, as told to Mr. Jeffers, was as follows.

He had gone out three several times with Porter to rob the Lancaster mail, but his heart failing him, they returned without effecting their purpose. When Porter and Poteet proposed to rob the Reading mail, he would have had nothing to do with it, had he not feared that Porter would kill him if he refused. He then described the robbery, and the part each had taken in it, pretty much as we have related above. While the pillage was going on, he said, he was very anxious to get away, but Porter declared he would not hurry himself. He added that he was sorry he had ever seen Porter. He was steady at work in Philadelphia till he came and seduced him from his employment. He believed Porter would as lief kill a man as eat his breakfast. All this confession took place without any inducement on the part of Jeffers.

This confession put the police of Baltimore on the look-out for Porter and Poteet. On the ninth of February, Mr. Stewart, a constable, met Porter in the street, and accosted him with a question concerning his health. He added that he had been looking for him all day, and must now take him with him. Porter asked him what he wanted, and on what authority he arrested him. The officer replied that he carried his authority in his face, and then asked if he knew Wilson or Poteet, or could tell where they might be found. He denied all knowledge of them, but followed Mr. Stewart quietly to his house. The officer searched him, and took from him a powder-flask and a pair of pistols. Porter asked if he meant to keep them, and the constable replied that he did. Porter very sternly said, “I hope I shall live to buy another pair for somebody.” He admitted before a magistrate that he knew Poteet.

Mr. Stewart conducted Wilson to Philadelphia first, and Porter afterwards. After they got into the stage, Wilson said that he believed his case was hopeless, and that he would plead guilty to every charge brought against him. Mr. Stewart asked him if he were not afraid to undertake to rob a stage so full of passengers. “No,” replied the villain, “three good men could rob a dozen at any time.”

Poteet was also arrested, and consented to save his own life by becoming state’s evidence.

Porter’s demeanor after his arrest was marked by that cool courage that seems to have been the only favorable trait in his character. He spoke freely of his past life, without showing the least compunction, and said that if the passengers had resisted, he would not have scrupled to shed blood.

On the 26th of April, 1830, James Porter and George Wilson were brought before the circuit court, and the grand jury presented six bills of indictment against them.

They pleaded not guilty to all these indictments, and applied for separate trials, which was granted.

On the trial Wilson was identified as one of the robbers, by the evidence of some of the passengers, as well as that of Poteet. The watches taken from the passengers, and pawned by him, were produced in court and sworn to. So were the weapons stolen from Mr. Watt’s shop. The other facts relating to the robbery were proved, in substance, as we have given them.

The jury found a verdict of guilty.

Porter was next arraigned, and found guilty on the same evidence. Sentence of death was passed upon him and Wilson. After sentence Porter showed contrition, but suffered with the same hardihood that he had exhibited throughout. We can accord him no pity. He was the master spirit, the ringleader, the captain of a band of highway robbers. He had collected a gang about him, drilled, marshalled, and equipped them, and led them forth to an unholy warfare against the peace and interest of society.

Wilson was pardoned by president Jackson; for what reason, we cannot pretend to divine. The pardon set forth that certain disclosures were expected from him but we never heard that he made any.

Transcriber’s Notes

Obvious errors in punctuation were fixed.

Some of the illustrations were relocated to be closer to the relevant content.

Page 38: “not much dis-disposed” changed to “not much disposed”

Page 74: “question whe- the loss” changed to “question whether the loss”

Page 115: “he ad not made a word” changed to “he had not made a word”

Page 186: “he barricadoed” changed to “he barricaded”

Page 193: “two of the villians” changed to “two of the villains”

Page 233: “considerable innkeeqer” changed to “considerable innkeeper”