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; forthe 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 Waldronthought 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 toplay. 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 towhich 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, aftertravelling 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, andwell 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 toMr.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, whereMr.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, asMr.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 withMr.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 afterwardsturned 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 informingMr.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 withMr.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 asMr.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 byMr.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 toMr.H——n.
Afterwards, Barrington being dressed, called a coach and drove to the Crown and Anchor tavern, where he foundMr.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 eitheracquired, 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 afence, 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 thatMr.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 uponMr.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 muchapparent satisfaction as if they had been lawful dealers in the commodities of which they had unjustly deprived the right owners.
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 allMr.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 withMr.Lowe having renderedMr.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 quittedMr.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 atCovent 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 thisgentleman 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 atSt.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 hehad 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 ofMr.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 afineat 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 ofMr.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 greattowns 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 stealingMr.Le Mesurier’s purse; but, through the absence of theRev.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 pickingMr.Henry Hare Townsend’s pocket of a gold watch.
Hubert, his accomplice, was tried at Dublin, andsentenced 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. Hehas 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.