Part 102
Soon after this period he set off for Holland, under the assumed name of Johnson. Forging a recommendation to a Dutch merchant, he became his clerk,--debauched his master's daughter,--was offered her in marriage, robbed his employer, and returned to England. He conducted this business with the most consummate villany.
He now contrived to become clerk in his Majesty's small-beer brewhouse, near Gosport. At this place he behaved himself with so much propriety, that he was on the point of forming a matrimonial connection with his master's daughter every thing, however, was soon laid aside by an accidental discovery: the Jew to whom he had formerly sold the gold lace happened to live at Portsmouth, by whom his character was soon disclosed, and spread abroad. Thus were his hopes put to flight, and he was again thrown upon the wide world.
As his wits were never long unemployed for some deceptive ends, he thought of advertising for a partner in the brewery line; and actually issued the following curious advertisement, in the year 1755:--
"Wanted,--A partner of character, probity, and extensive acquaintance, upon a plan permanent and productive,--_fifty per cent_, without risk, may be obtained. It is not necessary he should have any knowledge of the business, which the advertiser possesses in its fullest extent; but he must possess a capital of between 500 and 1000 pounds, to purchase materials, with which, to the knowledge of the advertiser, a large fortune must be made in a very short time.
"Address to P. C. Cardigan Head, Charing Cross."
"P. S. None but principals, and those of liberal ideas, will be treated with."
To this advertisement, the famous comedian, Samuel Foote, Esq. paid attention. Eager to seize what he thought a golden opportunity, he advanced the sum of £500 for a brewery: we need not add, that the sum soon disappeared, and Foote was wrung with the anguish of disappointment. Price, however, had the impudence to apply to him again, wishing him to unite in the baking trade: the comedian archly replied, "As you have brewed, so you may bake; but I'll be hang'd if ever you bake as you have brewed!"
After this unfortunate business, Mr. Price turned Methodist preacher, and in this character defrauded several persons of large sums of money.
Advertising, in order to get gentlemen _wives_, he swindled a person of the name of Wigmore, of fifty guineas, for which he was indicted; but having refunded a part, effected his escape. These and other fraudulent practices were long the objects of his ambition, though they are all sure and certain roads to infamy: such was his strange propensity.
With astonishing impudence, he again set up a brewery in Gray's-inn-lane; and, after various frauds, he became a bankrupt in 1776. Ever fruitful in resources, he set out for Germany; but in Holland he got into prison for being concerned in a smuggling scheme, by which three hundred pounds were obtained. By his artful defence he escaped, and returned to his native country. Here he once more engaged his attention by a sham brewery, at Lambeth, where he was married. Continuing, however, to practise his deceptions, he was obliged to decamp, went actually to Copenhagen, and, after some time, came back to England, where he was doomed to close his days.
His breweries having failed, he now proceeded to study how in other ways he might most effectually ravage society. Under the pretence of charity, he obtained money, for which he was imprisoned; and having been liberated, he succeeded in various impositions as a clergyman. This eventually brought him to the King's Bench prison, from whose walls he dexterously extricated himself.
A lottery-office-keeper was the next subject of his attention; but decamping with a ticket of very large value, this scheme speedily came to a termination. To recount all his tricks, would form the contents of a well-sized volume. Alas for human depravity!
But we now arrive at that period of our hero's life, when he commenced his ravages upon the Bank of England, which ended in his destruction. Such a series of iniquitous devices were never before practised on mankind.
In the year 1780, under the assumed name of "Brank," Mr. Price engaged a servant, a plain, simple, honest fellow, by whom he passed his notes without detection. He advertised for him, and their meeting was truly curious. Having received a reply to the advertisement, one evening, just as it was dark, he, driving to the person's residence, sent the coachman to inquire for the man who had answered the advertisement, saying, "There was a gentleman over the way, in a coach, who wanted to speak with him." On this, the young fellow was called, and went to the coach, where he was desired to step in. There he saw an apparently old man, affecting the foreigner, seemingly very gouty, wrapped up with five or six yards of flannel about his legs, a camblet surtout buttoned over his chin, close to his mouth, a large patch over his left eye, and every part of his face so hid, that the young fellow could not see any part of it, except his nose, his right eye, and a small part of that cheek. To carry on the deception still better, Mr. Price thought proper to place the man on his left side, on which the patch was, so that the old gentleman could take an askance look at the young man with his right eye, and by that means discover only a small portion of his own face. He appeared, by this disguise, to be between sixty and seventy years of age; and afterwards, when the man saw him standing, not much under six feet high, owing to boots or shoes with heels very little less than three inches high. Added to this deception, he was so buttoned up and straightened, as to appear perfectly lank.
The writer of his life, to whom we are indebted for these particulars, then subjoins:--"It may not be ill-timed, to those who did not know him, to give the true description of his person. He was about five feet six inches high; a compact neat-made man, square shouldered, inclined to corpulency; his legs were firm and well set; but by nature his features made him look much older than he really was, which, at that time, was nearly fifty; his nose was aquiline, and his eyes small and gray; his mouth stood very much inwards, with very thin lips; his chin pointed and prominent; with a pale complexion: but what contributed as much as any thing to favour his disguise of speech was, his loss of teeth. He walked exceedingly upright, was very active and quick in his walk, and was something above what we describe a man to be, when we call him "a dapper-made man."
This simple and honest fellow (Samuel) Mr. Price employed to negociate his forged bills, principally in the purchase of lottery tickets, at the same time never fully disclosing to him his name, person, or history. Indeed, the plan was devised and executed with uncommon ability. However, at last Samuel was detected, having passed bills to the amount of _fourteen hundred pounds_!! but his agent eluded discovery, and retired with his booty into the shades of the deepest obscurity. The poor servant was imprisoned for nearly a twelvemonth, terrified out of his wits, being the innocent instrument of such complicated villany.
Mr. Price, having most probably exhausted his former acquisitions, sallied forth, in the year 1782, after new game, with the most unparalleled audacity. For this purpose, he obtained his second servant, from a register-office, a smart active boy, of the name of Power: his father was a Scotch presbyterian; and, to ingratiate himself with him, Mr. Price made great pretensions to religion, expressing a hope that his son was well acquainted with the Lord's Prayer, and the Ten Commandments. Our hero began his ravages upon Mr. Spilsbury, of Soho-square, ordering large quantities of his drops. Wilmot was his present assumed name, and he introduced himself to him as possessing all the symptoms of age and infirmity. He was wrapped up in a large camblet great coat; he had a slouched hat on, the brim of which was large, and bent downward on each side of his head; a piece of red flannel covered his chin, and came up on each side of his face almost as high as his cheek-bones; he had a large bush wig on, and legs wrapped over with flannel; he had also a pair of green spectacles on his nose, with a green silk shade hanging down from his hat, but no patch on his eye.
It is remarkable that Mr. Spilsbury knew Mr. Price, but not Mr. Wilmot; nay, so complete was the deception, that as they sat together in a coffee-house, Mr. S. complained to his coffee-house acquaintance, of the notes which Wilmot had imposed upon him, Price crying out now and then, "Lack-a-day! Good God! who could conceive such knavery to exist? What, and did the Bank refuse payment, Sir?" staring through his spectacles with as much seeming surprise as an honest man would have done. "O yes," (said Mr. S.) with some degree of acrimony, "for it was on the faith of the Bank of England, that I and a great many others have taken them; and they were so inimitably well done, that the nicest judges could not distinguish them."--"Good God! Lack-a-day! (said Price,) he must have been an ingenious villain! What a complete old scoundrel!"
Upon Mr. Watt a hosier, Mr. Reeves a colourman, and a great many other individuals, he practised frauds equally ingenious and successful, for in one day he negociated sixty ten-pound-notes, and changed fourteen fifty-pound notes for seven one-hundred-pound notes; indeed, so multiplied were his tricks at this period, that the mind sickens at the recital of them.
In his last attempt on the Bank, which ended in his detection, he assumed the name of Palton, pretended he was an Irish linen factor, and employed two young men to circulate his notes, whilst he still, greatly disguised, kept back in obscurity. By means of a pawnbroker, he was found out with great difficulty. On his seizure, he solemnly declared his innocence, and before the magistrate behaved with insolence. This detection took place on the 14th of January, 1786: he was soon sworn to by more persons than one; and seeing no way of escape, he pretended, to his wife in particular, great penitence; but there appeared no ground for its reality. The Bank was fully intent on the prosecution of him, and there was no doubt of his dying by the hands of the executioner. He, however, was found one evening hanging against the post of his door, in his apartments, Tothill-fields bridewell. Thus was the earth freed from as great a monster as ever disgraced society.
It may appear strange to the reader that this depraved impostor could have so long escaped discovery. But it must be added, that besides the multifarious disguises of his person, he had taken care to prevent almost the possibility of detection. To use the words of the writer of his life--"Had Mr. Price permitted a partner in his proceedings, had he employed an engraver, had he procured paper to be made for him with water-marks put into it, he must have been soon discovered; but Price was without a confidant: he engraved his own plates, made his own paper, with the water-marks, and his negociator never knew him, thereby confining a secret to his own breast, which he wisely deemed not safe in the breast of another; even Mrs. Price had not the least knowledge or suspicion of his proceedings. Having practised engraving till he had made himself sufficiently master of it, he then made his own ink, to prove his own works; having purchased implements, and manufactured the water-marks, he next set himself to counterfeit hand-writings, and succeeded so far, as even to puzzle a part of the first body of men in the world. The abilities of the unhappy Ryland were exerted in his profession, and therefore the imposition was to be less wondered at; but here was a novice in the art, capable of equal ingenuity in every department of the dangerous undertaking, from the engraving down to the publication."
Whoever reads this narrative with attention, must feel rising within his breast a series of useful reflections. That such talents should be appropriated to such a use, must be deeply regretted; but that any individual should, throughout life, thus prey on his fellow-creatures, excites the strongest detestation. Society also may learn lessons of caution and vigilance from the contemplation of the extraordinary character we have delineated. Vice here appears in its most odious features, that of meditated imposition upon the honest and industrious part of the community. Mark, however, its serpentine progress and its wretched termination.
THE ECCENTRIC STEPHENSON.--A person of the name of Stephenson, who died at Kilmarnock, in Scotland, in 1817, came originally from Dunlop, and was brought up as a mason, but during many of the latter years of his life he had wandered about as a beggar. His wife and himself had been separated thirty years, upon these strange conditions,--that the first who proposed an agreement should forfeit £100. This singular pair never met again. Stephenson was much afflicted, during the last two years of his life, with the stone. As his disease increased, he was fully aware of his approaching dissolution; and for this event he made the following extraordinary preparation:--He sent for a baker, and ordered twelve dozen of burial cakes, and a great profusion of sugar biscuit, together with a corresponding quantity of wine and spirituous liquors. He next sent for a joiner, and ordered a coffin decently mounted, with instructions that the wood should be quite dry, and the joints firm, and impervious to the water. The grave-digger was next sent for, and asked if he thought he could find a place to put him in after he was dead. The spot fixed upon was in the church-yard of Riccarton, a village about half a mile distant. He enjoined the sexton to be sure and make his grave roomy, and in a dry comfortable corner; and he would be well rewarded for his care and trouble. Having made these arrangements, he ordered the old woman that attended him, to go to a certain nook, and bring out £9, to be appropriated to defray the funeral charges. He told her, at the same time, not to be grieved,--that he had not forgotten her in his will. In a few hours afterwards, in the full exercise of his mental powers, but in the most excruciating agonies, he expired.
A neighbour and a professional man were immediately sent for, to examine and seal up his effects. The first thing they found was a bag, containing large silver pieces, such as crowns, half-crowns, and dollars, to a large amount: in a corner was secreted, amongst a vast quantity of musty rags, a great number of guineas and seven-shilling pieces. In his trunk was a bond for £300, and other bonds and securities to the amount of £900. By his will, £20 were left to his housekeeper, and the rest of his property to be divided among his distant relations. As it required some time to give his relatives intimation of his death, and to make preparations for his funeral, he lay in state four days, during which the place resembled more an Irish wake than a deserted room where the Scots lock up their dead. The invitations to his funeral were most singular. Persons were not asked individually, but whole families; so that, except a few relatives dressed in black, his obsequies were attended by tradesmen in their working clothes, barefooted boys and girls, and an immense crowd of tattered beggars; to the aged among whom he left six-pence, and to the younger three-pence. After the interment, this motley group retired to a large barn, fitted up for the purpose, where a scene of profusion and inebriety was exhibited almost without a parallel.
WHIMSICAL CHARACTER.--The Rev. Mr. HAGAMORE, of Catshoge, Leicestershire, was a very singular character. He died the 1st of January, 1776, possessed of the following effects, viz.--£700 per annum, and £1000 in money, which, as he died intestate, fell to a ticket-porter in London. He kept one servant of each sex, whom he locked up every night. His last employment of an evening was to go round his premises, let loose his dogs, and fire his gun. He lost his life as follows: Going one morning to let out his servants, the dogs fawned upon him suddenly, and threw him into a pond, where he was found dead. His servants heard his call for assistance, but being locked up, they could not lend him any. He had 30 gowns and cassocks, 100 pair of breeches, 100 pair of boots, 400 pair of shoes, 80 wigs, yet always wore his own hair, 58 dogs, 80 waggons and carts, 80 ploughs, and used none, 50 saddles, and furniture for the menage, 30 wheelbarrows, so many walking-sticks, that a toyman in Leicester-fields offered £8 for them, 60 horses and mares, 200 pickaxes, 200 spades and shovels, 74 ladders, and 249 razors.
EXTRAORDINARY CHARACTER.--In July, 1818, A. M. CROMWELL, of Hammersmith, died suddenly in Tottenham-court-road: he was returning from the corn-market, when he was taken ill, and carried, in a dying state, into the house of a corn-chandler, in Tottenham-court-road. The master of the shop, who knew him, was from home, and in the country. The mistress did not know him, and he was therefore treated with no more attention from her than humanity dictated.
He remained in the shop, and a crowd was collected in consequence. His dress not bespeaking him a man of wealth or respectability, he was about to be removed to the parish workhouse. However, some gentlemen passing by chance, recognized him; and, knowing him to be a wealthy man, thought it right to search his person in the presence of several witnesses, when they found bank-notes to the amount of £1500. A surgeon was sent for, who attended, and examined him; and declared, that, in his opinion, he had been dying during the last two hours, in consequence of the breaking of a blood-vessel, supposed to be near his heart. It is said he was worth two millions and a half. He was 75 years old, and had been accumulating property for a great number of years, living at the most trifling expense. He frequently bought his clothes in Monmouth-street, and wore them as long as they would hang together: his breeches were very greasy and ragged; his stockings usually contained many holes; in fact, he could not be distinguished by his dress from his men. In the summer season he was frequently up at three o'clock, attending to and assisting in loading the brick carts, &c. &c. His wealth did not improve or alter his conduct, manners, or mode of living. He provided plenty of food for the house, but it was in a very rough style;--fat pork, fat bacon, &c. and sometimes poultry. His hog-feeders and other men sat at table with him in their working-dress; and, if a friend happened to dine with him, his men were made company for them, and he did not deviate from his daily plan of helping them first.
INDIAN JUGGLERS; (see pages 62 and 63.)--The Indian jugglers, who exhibited in London from 1810 to 1815, performed such astonishing feats, that it would appear to require a long life, spent in incessant practice, to acquire facility in any one of them; such proficiency is so common, however, in India, that it probably excites no extraordinary interest there. The following is a description of their performances, which were witnessed by the editor of this work.
The exhibition takes place upon a raised platform, on which, having performed his salaam, or eastern obeisance, the chief performer takes his seat; and behind him sits the second juggler, and an attendant boy, whose occupation is to beat together two metallic plates, somewhat resembling cymbals, which emit an unremitting sound, like the clucking of a hen.
The first tricks are performed with cups and balls. These are similar in their mode to the deceptions of our own conjurers, and only remarkable for the superiority of their evolutions in the hands of this celebrated Asiatic. The cups seem enchanted; the balls fly; they increase in number; they diminish; now one, now two, now none under the cup; and now the serpent, the _cobra de capella_, usurps the place of a small globule of cork, and winds its snaky folds as if from under the puny vessel. The facility with which this dexterous feat is accomplished, gives life and animation to the sable countenance of the artist, whose arm is bared to the elbow, to shew that the whole is done by sleight of hand. During his performances, the juggler keeps up an unremitting noise, striking his tongue against his teeth, like the clack of machinery, and uttering sounds, as if he were repeating, with inconceivable rapidity, the words "_Crickery-tick, crickery-tick, crickery-tick, a-tow, geret-tow, crickery-tick, a-tow, geret-tow_, &c."
The next feat is that of breaking a cotton thread into the consistency of scraped lint, as used by surgeons, and reproducing it continued and entire; after which he lays upon the palm of his hand a small quantity of common sand; this he rubs with the fingers of his other hand, and it changes its hue--the colourless grains become yellow; he rubs them again, they are white; again, and they are black.
A series of evolutions then succeeds, with four hollow brass balls, about the size of oranges. His power over these is almost miraculous. He causes them to describe every possible circle--horizontally, perpendicularly, obliquely, transversely, round his legs, under his arms, about his head, in small and in large circumferences--with wondrous rapidity, and keeping the whole number in motion at the same time. This being the sole fruit of effort, activity, quickness of eye, and rapidity of action, no one who has not witnessed it can form an idea of its excellence. He then exhibits his astonishing power of balancing. He places on his two great toes (over which he seems to have the same command that less favoured whites enjoy over their fingers only) a couple of thin rings, of about four inches in diameter; a pair of similar rings he places on his fore fingers, and then he sets the whole into rotation, and round they all whirl, and continue describing their orbits without cessation, as if set to work by machinery, endowed with the principle of perpetual motion. Throwing himself back, the performer then balances a sword upon his forehead, and with his mouth strings a number of very small beads upon a hog's bristle, which he holds between his lips. All the wheels are kept in regular movement; the sword is nicely poised; and arts and manufactures, under the emblem of bead-stringing, carried on in peacefulness: during this part of the show, the performer is compelled, from the nature of his employment, to be still and quiet.
Having concluded this, the juggler executes the following exploit.--Upon the tip of his nose he balances a small wooden parasol, from the circumference of which about a dozen of cork tassels are pendent. With his mouth he inserts into each of these tassels a quill of about the length of twelve inches, and the thickness of that of the porcupine. The bases of these he places with his tongue between his upper lip and nose, the rings on his toes all the while performing their circuits. Having succeeded in putting a quill into every tassel, he takes out the centre stick on which the parasol was originally supported from the top of his nose, and it then remains balanced on the quills. Thus far the work is difficult enough; but this is nothing to its conclusion. He undermines his structure by a quill at a time, till only three remain. Of these he takes one away; and the top, which resembles the roof of a pagoda, swings down, and hangs by two, the Indian preserving the astonishing balance even throughout this motion, which might be deemed sufficient to disconcert any human ingenuity: but even here he does not stop; the last prop but one is removed, and on that one the erect balance of the machine rests.