CHAPTER IX.MISCELLANEOUS IMPOSTORS AND IMPOSTURES.
Mary Tofts, the Rabbit Breeder, of Godalming—Progress and Detection of her Impostures—Poisoning of St. Andre—The Bottle Conjuror—Advertisements on this Occasion—Riot produced by the Fraud—Squibs and Epigrams to which it gave rise—Case of Elizabeth Canning—Violent Controversy which arose out of it—She is found guilty of Perjury and transported—The Cock Lane Ghost—Public Excitement occasioned by it—Detection of the Fraud—Motive for the Imposture—The Stockwell Ghost—The Sampford Ghost—Mystery in which the Affair was involved—Astonishing Instance of Credulity in Perigo and his Wife—Diabolical Conduct of Mary Bateman—She is hanged for Murder—Metamorphosis of the Chevalier d’Eon—Multifarious Disguises of Price, the Forger—Miss Robertson—The fortunate Youth—The Princess Olive—Caraboo—Pretended Fasting—Margaret Senfrit—Catherine Binder—The Girl of Unna—The Osnaburg Girl—Anne Moore.
Towardsthe close of the year 1726, one of the most extraordinary and impudent impostures on record was carried into execution by a woman named Mary Tofts, the wife of a poor journeyman clothworker at Godalming, in Surrey. She is described as having been of “a healthy strong constitution, small size, fair complexion, a very stupid and sullen temper, and unable to write or read.” Stupid as she was supposed to be, she had, however, art enough to keep up for a considerable time the credit of her fraud. She pretended to bring forth rabbits; and sheaccounted for this monstrous deviation from the laws of nature, by saying, that “as she was weeding in a field, she saw a rabbit spring up near her, after which she ran, with another woman that was at work just by her; this set her a longing for rabbits, being then, as she thought, five weeks enceinte; the other woman perceiving she was uneasy, charged her with longing for the rabbit they could not catch, but she denied it. Soon after, another rabbit sprung up near the same place, which she endeavoured likewise to catch. The same night she dreamt that she was in a field with those two rabbits in her lap, and awaked with a sick fit, which lasted till morning; from that time, for above three months, she had a constant and strong desire to eat rabbits, but being very poor and indigent could not procure any.”
At first sight, it would seem that so gross an imposition, as that which was attempted by Mary Tofts, must have been unanimously scouted. But this was by no means the case. So well did she manage, and so ready are some people to be deceived, that she actually deluded her medical attendant, Mr. Howard, a man of probity, who had practised for thirty years. There can be no doubt of his belief that, in the course of about a month, he had aided her to bring forth nearly twenty rabbits.
The news of these marvellous births spread far and wide, and soon found numerous believers. It attracted the attention of even George the First, who sent down to Godalming his house surgeon, Mr. Ahlers, to inquire into the fact. Ahlers went back to London fully convinced that he had obtained ocular and tangible proof of the truth of the story; so much so, indeed, that he promised to procure for Mary a pension. Mr. St. Andre, the king’s surgeon and anatomist, was despatched in the course of a day or two, to make a further examination. He also returned to the metropolis a firm believer. The rabbits, which he and Ahlers carried with them, as testimonies, had the honour of being dissected before his majesty.An elaborate report of all the circumstances relative to their production and dissection, and to his visit to Godalming, was published by St. Andre, and the public mind consequently began to be agitated in an extraordinary manner. A furious controversy arose between the credulous and the incredulous, in which Whiston is said to have borne a part, by writing a pamphlet, to show that the miracle was the exact completion of a prophecy in Esdras. On the other hand, the caricaturists of the incredulous faction exerted themselves to cast ridicule on their opponents. Among these was Hogarth, who published an engraving called Cunicularii, or the Wise Men of Godliman.
Though the report, by St. Andre, contained many circumstances which were palpably calculated to excite a suspicion of fraud, the multitude was as blind to them as he had been. The delusion continued to spread, and even the king himself was enrolled among the believers. The rent of rabbit warrens, it is affirmed, sunk to nothing, as no one would presume to eat a rabbit. The trick was, however, on the point of being found out. To Queen Caroline, then Princess of Wales, is ascribed the merit of having been active in promoting measures to undeceive the people.
The miraculous Mary Tofts was now brought to town, where she could be more closely watched than at Godalming, and prevented from obtaining the means of carrying on her imposture. Among those who took a part on this occasion, the most conspicuous was Sir Richard Manningham, an eminent physician and Fellow of the Royal Society; and he had at length the satisfaction of detecting her. She held out, however, till her courage was shaken by a threat to perform a dangerous operation upon her, which threat was backed by another from a magistrate, that she should be sent to prison. She then confessed, that the fraud had been suggested to her by a woman, who told her, that she could put her into a way of gettinga good livelihood, without being obliged to work for it as formerly, and promised continually to supply her with rabbits, for which she was to receive a part of the gain. The farce terminated by the Godalming miracle-monger being committed to Tothill Fields’ Bridewell.
The reputation of St. Andre, who had previously been much in favour at court, was greatly injured by his conduct in this affair. The public attention had once before been directed to him by a mysterious circumstance; and his enemies did not fail now to advert to that circumstance, and to charge him with having himself played the part of an impostor. It appears that in February, 1724, he was summoned to visit a patient, whom he had never before seen. The messenger led him in the dark, through numerous winding alleys and passages, to a house in a court, where he found the woman for whom he was to prescribe. The man, after having introduced him, went out, and soon returned with three glasses of liquor on a plate, one of which St. Andre was prevailed on to take; but, “finding the liquor strong and ill-tasted, he drank very little of it.” Before he reached his home he began to be ill, and soon manifested all the symptoms of having taken poison. The government offered a reward of two hundred pounds for the detection of the offender, but he was never discovered. It was now asserted, by the enemies of St. Andre, that the story of having been poisoned was a mere fabrication, for the purpose of bringing him into practice. This, however, could not have been the case; for the report, signed by six eminent physicians, who attended him, abundantly proves that he was, for nearly a fortnight, in the utmost danger, and that, according to all appearance, his sufferings were caused by poison. We may, therefore, conclude that, though he was an egregious dupe, with respect to Mary Tofts, he was not, in this instance, an impostor.
“For when a man beats out his brains,The devil’s in it if he feigns.”
“For when a man beats out his brains,The devil’s in it if he feigns.”
“For when a man beats out his brains,The devil’s in it if he feigns.”
“For when a man beats out his brains,
The devil’s in it if he feigns.”
In 1749, three-and-twenty years after the exposure of Mary Tofts, there appeared, about the middle of January, the ensuing advertisement, which seems to have been intended to try how far the credulous folly of the town might be worked upon.
“At the new theatre in the Haymarket, on Monday next, the 16th instant, is to be seen a person who performs the several most surprising things following: viz. first, he takes a common walking-cane from any of the spectators, and thereon plays the music of every instrument now in use, and likewise sings to surprising perfection. Secondly, he presents you with a common wine-bottle, which any one present may first examine; this bottle is placed on a table, in the middle of the stage, and he (without any equivocation) goes into it, in the sight of all the spectators, and sings in it; during his stay in the bottle, any person may handle it, and see plainly that it does not exceed a common tavern bottle. Those on the stage or in the boxes may come in masked habits (if agreeable to them), and the performer (if desired) will inform them who they are.” The display of these wonders was to occupy two hours and a half. The advertisement also promised that the conjuror, after the performance, would show to any gentlemen or ladies, for, as Trapbois phrases it, a proper “con-si-de-ra-tion,” the likeness of any deceased friend or relative, with which they might also converse; would tell their most secret thoughts; and would give them a full view of persons, whether dead or alive, who had injured them.
At the same time with the above advertisement, there came forth another, which may have either been intended to put the public on their guard by its out-heroding Herod, or to make their credulity, if possible, still more glaring, in case they should accept the invitation of the Bottle Conjuror. It purported to be issued by Signor Capitello Jumpedo, lately arrived from Italy, “a surprising dwarf, no taller than a tobacco-pipe,” who couldperform many wonderful equilibres on the tight and slack rope, transform his body into above ten thousand different shapes and postures, and who, after having diverted the spectators two hours and a half, would “open his mouth wide, and jump down his own throat.” This most “wonderfullest wonder of all wonders as ever the world wondered at,” expressed his willingness to join in performance with the Bottle Conjuror Musician.
Though one might suppose that nothing short of insanity or idiocy could bring spectators on such an occasion, yet it is certain that the theatre was thronged with people of all degrees, from the highest ranks of the peerage down to such of the humblest class as could raise two shillings for admission to the gallery. That nothing might be wanting to try the patience of the spectators, not a single fiddle had been provided to amuse them. At length, tired of waiting, they became restive; cat-calls, vociferations, and beating of feet and sticks on the floor, were heard in discordant chorus. At this moment a man came from behind the scenes, bowed, and announced that, if the performer did not appear, the money should be returned. This annunciation was succeeded by another person starting up in the pit, and stating that, if double prices were given, the conjuror would get into a pint bottle. This seems to have brought the multitude to the use of the small portion of sense which nature had bestowed on them. They discovered that they had been cheated, and they prepared to take vengeance on the cheater. The throwing of a lighted candle from one of the boxes into the pit was the signal for riot. All who thought that, in such cases, the better half of valour is discretion, now became anxious to secure their retreat. A rush accordingly took place towards the doors, and numerous were the wigs, hats, swords, canes, and shoes, that were lost in consequence. As the more timid part of the crowd forced their way out, the mob which surrounded the house forced their way in. Joined by theseallies, the party which had remained behind began, and speedily completed the work of destruction. The benches were torn up, the boxes pulled down; and the scenes broken to pieces; the fragments were then taken into the street, a huge bonfire was made of them, and the stage-curtain was hoisted on a pole, as a standard, above the fire. The guards were at last sent for, but before their arrival the mob had disappeared, leaving nothing but smoking embers and a dismantled theatre.
Foote and others were accused of having originated or shared in this trick; but they disavowed any participation in it, and there seems no reason to doubt their veracity. Some thick-skulled bigots gravely asserted, that it was invented by a Jesuit, “to try how ripe the nation was to swallow the absurdities of transubstantiation.” With more likelihood, it was said that, in order to win a wager which he had laid respecting the extreme gullibility of the public, the scheme was contrived by a mischievous young nobleman.
For some time after the event, the newspapers were filled with squibs and epigrams. Among the advertisements in ridicule of the bottle-conjuror’s, one of the best purported to be from “the body-surgeon of the Emperor of Monœmungi.” He thus terminated the description of his budget of wonders: “He opens the head of a justice of peace, takes out his brains, and exchanges them for those of a calf; the brains of a beau, for those of an ass; and the heart of a bully, for that of a sheep; which operations render the persons more rational and sociable creatures than ever they were in their lives.”
In the next instance of imposture which occurred, those who were misled could hardly be considered as blameworthy, the circumstances being such as to account for their erroneous judgment. The case to which allusion is here made, was that of Elizabeth Canning, in the year 1753. This female, who was about eighteen years of age, after having been absent twenty-eight days, returnedhome in a squalid and apparently half-starved condition. The story which she told was that, as she was proceeding at night from her uncle’s to the house of the person with whom she lived as servant, she was attacked by two men, in Moorfields, who first robbed her, gave her a blow on the temple, and then dragged her along, she being part of the time in fits, till they reached a house of ill-fame, kept by Susannah Wells, at Enfield Wash.
On her arrival there, she was accosted by a gipsy, named Mary Squires, who asked her if she would “go their way; for if she would, she should have fine clothes.” Supposing that Squires alluded to prostitution, Canning replied in the negative; Squires, upon this, ripped up the lace of her stays with a knife, took away the stays, and thrust her into a back room like a hayloft, the window of which was boarded inside. In that room she was imprisoned for twenty-seven days; her only subsistence being a scanty portion of bread, some water, and a small mince-pie, which she chanced to have in her pocket. At last, she bethought her of breaking down the board, after which she crept on a penthouse, whence she dropped on the ground. She then made the best of her way home.
Universal pity was excited by the tale of her sufferings, and a subscription was raised for her. The most violent public indignation was expressed against the two criminals; and, while this ferment was at its height, Wells and Squires were brought to trial. The evidence of Elizabeth Canning was corroborated by that of Virtue Hall, and by various circumstances, and the jury found both of the prisoners guilty. Squires was condemned to death, and Wells was ordered to be branded, and imprisoned for six months.
Squires would certainly have suffered had not Sir Crisp Gascoyne, who was then Lord Mayor, fortunately interposed in her favour. Squires herself solemnly declared that she could bring many witnesses to prove that she wasin the west of England during the whole of the time that was sworn to by Canning. There were besides some startling discrepancies between Canning’s evidence and the real situation of places and things; and, to render the matter still more doubtful, Virtue Hall, the main prop of Canning’s story, retracted her evidence. Sir Crisp Gascoyne succeeded in obtaining a respite for Squires, during which time so much testimony was obtained in her behalf, that a free pardon was granted to her. Such, however, was the general prejudice in Canning’s favour, that the benevolent exertions of Sir Crisp rendered him extremely unpopular. Floods of ink were expended in pamphlets by her defenders, among whom was the highly gifted author of Tom Jones. Her opponents were equally active.
The mass of evidence against Canning at length became so enormous, that it was resolved to put her upon her trial for perjury. The trial lasted five days, and more than a hundred and twenty witnesses were examined. Upwards of forty of them were brought forward to testify as to the movements of Squires, and they traced her journeyings day by day, and proved, by a chain of evidence of which not a single link was wanting, that during the whole of the time charged against her by Canning she was far distant in the west of England. The story told by Canning was also shown to be in some parts contradictory, and in others at variance with the facts. In conclusion, she was found guilty, and was sentenced to seven years transportation. In August 1754, she was conveyed to New England, where she is said to have married advantageously. Some time before her departure, she published a declaration in which she repeated her charge against Squires, in spite of the triumphant manner in which that charge had been refuted; and, blindly faithful to her cause, many of her partisans obstinately persevered in asserting her innocence.
A few years subsequently to the affair of ElizabethCanning, there occurred an event, which amply proved that superstition and credulity were as flourishing as ever. In January 1762 the whole town was thrown into a state of excitement by the imposture which bears the name of “the Cock-lane Ghost,” so called from the place where the mummery was performed, and the supposed agent in the performance. The scene in which the farce commenced was the house of one Parsons, the parish clerk of St. Sepulchre’s. As a preliminary to the proceedings, it was reported that, nearly two years before the affair gained notoriety, alarming knockings and scratchings had been heard by the daughter of Parsons, a girl about twelve years old, and that she and others had seen, at her father’s house, the apparition of a woman, surrounded by a blazing light. The girl, on being questioned as to whom the apparition resembled, said it was like Mrs. Kent, who had formerly been a lodger there, and had died of the smallpox since her removal. The next step was to throw out mysterious hints that Mrs. Kent had been murdered.
These rumours were soon spread abroad, and the credulous and the curious rushed with headlong haste to witness the new marvels. The knockings and scratchings had by this time become exceedingly violent. It was now sagely resolved that several gentlemen, among whom a clergyman acted a prominent part, should sit up by the bed-side of Miss Parsons, to question the supposed ghost. As the ghost, it was imagined, might be dumb, or have forgotten its native tongue, the clergyman settled that it should reply by knocks; one knock being an affirmative answer, and two knocks a negative. This arrangement having been made, the ghost was interrogated, and it replied, that it was the spirit of a woman named Kent, who had been poisoned.
As some persons suspected imposture, the girl was removed from her home, and was successively put to bed at several houses; the number of watchers was increasedto nearly twenty, several of whom were clergymen and ladies. Still the knockings and scratchings were continued, and the same answers as before were made to questions. At length, on being pressed to give some proof of its veracity, the ghost consented to attend one of the gentlemen into the vault where the body was buried, and manifest its presence by a knock upon the coffin.
When the appointed hour arrived, “the spirit was very seriously advertised, that the person to whom the promise was made of striking the coffin, was then about to visit the vault, and that the performance of the promise was then claimed. The company, at one, went into the church, and the gentleman to whom the promise was made, went, with one more, into the vault. The spirit was solemnly required to perform its promise, but nothing more than silence ensued. The person supposed to be accused by the ghost then went down, with several others, but no effect was perceived. Upon their return they examined the girl, but could draw no confession from her. Between two and three she desired, and was permitted, to go home with her father.”
This want of punctuality in the ghost gave a fatal blow to its reputation. Even the most besotted of the believers were staggered by it. A flimsy attempt was therefore made to restore the ghost’s credit, by asserting that the coffin and corpse had been removed, which, of course, had prevented the spirit from giving the signal; but on examination they were found to be safe in the vault. Stricter precautions were now taken to guard against deception being practised by the girl; her bed was slung like a hammock, in the middle of the room, and she was closely watched. Driven to her last shifts, she contrived to secrete, but not unseen, a bit of board previously to her being put to bed, and having, as she thought, secured the necessary materials for carrying on the trick, she ventured to declare that she would bring the ghost at six thenext morning. In the morning she accordingly began to make the accustomed sounds, and, on being asked if she had in the bed any wood to strike upon, she positively denied the fact. The bed-clothes were then opened, the board was found, and this simple process annihilated the Cock Lane Ghost.
Mr. Kent, the accused person, had, in the mean while, proved his innocence, by certificates from the physician and apothecary who attended upon the deceased female. The base attack upon his character appears to have been prompted by revenge. While lodging with Parsons he had lent him some money, which, after much forbearance, he was compelled to recover by a suit at law. The malignant offender, however, did not escape punishment; he, with others who had lent themselves to his imposture, being ultimately brought to trial, and found guilty of a conspiracy.
In 1778, the Stockwell ghost, as it was denominated, spread terror in the village from whence it derived its name, and was for some time a subject of general conversation and wonderment. Its pranks have been described in Sir Walter Scott’s amusing “Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft,” and consequently it is unnecessary to dwell upon them here.
For a long period after this, it would seem that ghosts were either out of fashion, or had become averse from exhibiting before multitudes, and were determined to confine their efforts to the scaring of country bumpkins. It was not till 1810 that a supernatural case of any importance occurred. This case was, it must be owned, far more interesting and startling than its predecessors; it having been managed with such consummate skill as to baffle all attempts to penetrate the mystery. The house of Mr. Chave at Sampford Peverell, in Devonshire, was the scene on which the wonders were acted for several months. The spiritual agent appears to have occasionally assumed the form of some nondescript animal, whichalways eluded pursuit, and to have had an extreme dislike of women, whom it always pummelled unmercifully. The Rev. C. Colton, the author of Lacon, who endeavoured, but in vain, to find out the cause of the disturbance, tells us that he examined several females who had slept in the house, many of whom were on oath, and they all, without exception, agreed in affirming that “their night’s rest was invariably destroyed by violent blows from some invisible hand, by an unaccountable and rapid drawing and withdrawing of the curtains, by a suffocating and almost inexpressible weight, and by a repetition of sounds, so loud as at times to shake the whole room.” Numerous other respectable witnesses also testified, and offered to do so on oath, to various astonishing circumstances. Suspicions having been expressed that the whole was a juggle, carried on by Mr. Chave and his servants, they made an affidavit denying, in the most explicit terms, any knowledge whatever of the manner in which the sights and sounds were produced. A reward of 250l.was at length offered to any one who would throw light on this obscure subject. Tempting as this bait was, no one came forward to seize it. After a while the hubbub ceased; but, like Junius, the mischievous disturber of Sampford Peverell remains to this day undiscovered.
In another part of the country, a few years before the Sampford ghost began his vagaries, a fatal example of excessive credulity was afforded by a man and his wife, named Perigo. The wife being ill, Perigo applied to one Mary Bateman to cure her. Bateman declined the task, but said that she had a friend at Scarborough, a Miss Blyth, who could “read the stars,” and remove all ailments whether of body or mind. To enable this reader of the stars to gain a knowledge of the disease, it was said to be necessary that the sick woman should send her a petticoat; it was accordingly delivered to Bateman. There was, in truth, no such person as Blyth; but a pretended answer from her was read to the credulous Perigos, inwhich they were told that they must communicate with her through the medium of Bateman. As a commencement, they were directed to give Bateman five guinea notes, who would return an equal number in a small bag; but they were informed that, if curiosity induced them to look into the bag, the charm would be broken, and sudden death would ensue. In this manner forty guineas were at various times obtained, all of which, they were assured, would be found in the bag when the moment came for its being opened. Demand followed demand without intermission, and still the poor deluded beings continued to satisfy them. Clothing of all kinds, bedding, a set of china, edible articles, and thirty pounds more, were among the sacrifices which were made to the rapacious impostor. On one occasion the fictitious Miss Blyth ordered Perigo to buy her a live goose, for the purpose of being offered up as a burnt offering to her familiar, for the purpose of destroying the works of darkness.
The work of darkness was, indeed, approaching to its consummation. Beggared by the repeated calls on his purse, Perigo began to be anxious to open the bags, and regain possession of the contents. Unable any longer to put him off, the female fiend brought a packet, which she said came from Scarborough, and contained a potent charm. The contents were to be mixed in a pudding, prepared for the purpose, and of that pudding no one was to eat but Perigo and his wife. They obeyed, and the consequences were such as might be expected. The husband ate sparingly, for he disliked the taste, and he escaped with only suffering severe torture; the wife fell a victim.
It will scarcely be believed that, so deeply rooted was her credulity, the unfortunate woman, even when she was almost in her death agony, extorted from her husband a promise to follow the directions of the murderess. Two or three days after the wife had ceased to exist, a letter came, pretending to be from Miss Blyth, which seemedmore like the composition of an incarnate demon than of a human being. Instead of expressing the slightest sorrow, it attributed the death of the woman to her having dared to touch the bags; and it added a threat which was not unlikely to send a weak-minded man to join his murdered partner: “Inasmuch as your wife,” said the writer, “has done this wicked thing, she shall rise from the grave; stroke your face with the cold hand of death; and you shall lose the use of one side.”
Had his blood been any thing but snow-broth, so much injury and insult must have roused him. But the wretched gull long persisted to yield a blind obedience to his infamous deceiver, who fleeced him without mercy. It was not till he was rendered desperate by the threats of his creditors, that he ventured to open the bags. He, of course, found them filled with trash. His neighbours, to whom he bewailed his hard fate, were possessed of more courage and sense than he was, and they carried Mary Bateman before a magistrate. She was committed for the murder of the wife, was found guilty at York assizes, and suffered on the gallows the penalty of her crime.
The next character who claims our attention, though living for a great part of his life under a disguise, must not be branded as an impostor. The person alluded to is the celebrated Chevalier, generally known as Madam, D’Eon. This remarkable individual, who was born at Tonnerre, in France, in 1728, was of a good family. D’Eon was a man of brilliant parts, a writer by no means contemptible on various subjects, an accomplished diplomatist, and a brave officer. At one period he was minister plenipotentiary to the British court. A bitter quarrel with the Count de Guerchy, who succeeded him as ambassador, is assigned as the reason for his not returning to France. It is probable, however, that the real cause of his stay in this country was his acting as private agent of Louis the Fifteenth, by whom he was allowed a pension. D’Eon continued to reside in London for fourteenyears, and was in habits of friendship with the most distinguished persons.
Now comes the mystery; which still remains, and perhaps must ever remain, unsolved. Rumours, at first faint, but daily acquiring strength, had long been floating about, that D’Eon was a woman. There were certain feminine indications in his voice and person, and he was known to be averse from all affairs of gallantry, and to manifest extreme caution with respect to females. At length it began to be generally believed, both in England and France, that he had no title to wear the dress of a male. Wagers, to a large amount, were laid upon this subject; and, in 1777, one of them produced an indecent trial before Lord Mansfield. “The action was brought by Mr. Hayes, surgeon, against Jacques, a broker and underwriter, for the recovery of seven hundred pounds; Jacques having, about six years before, received premiums of fifteen guineas per cent., for every one of which he stood engaged to return a hundred guineas, whenever it should be proved that the Chevalier D’Eon was actually a woman.” In this cause, three seemingly unexceptionable witnesses, two of whom were of the medical profession, positively swore that they had obtained such proof as admitted of no contradiction that D’Eon was of the female sex. A verdict was in consequence given for the plaintiff; but it was afterwards set aside on a point of law.
The humiliating manner in which, by this trial, he was brought before the English public induced D’Eon to quit England. But it is a singular circumstance that M. de Vergennes, one of the French ministers, in a letter which he wrote to D’Eon, declared it to be the king’s will that he “should resume the dress of his sex,”—meaning the dress of a woman—and that this injunction was repeated on the Chevalier arriving in France. It was obeyed, and, till the end of his long life, D’Eon dressed, and was looked upon, as one of the softer sex. Early in the French revolution, he returned to England, still as a female, and remainedhere till his decease in 1810. Death proved the folly of those who had forced him into petticoats; for his manhood was placed beyond all doubt by an anatomical examination of the body. Why he was metamorphosed, and why he continued to acquiesce in the change when he might have safely asserted his sex, there appear to be no means of discovering.
A being of a far different stamp comes next before us; Charles Price, nicknamed Patch, a man who applied talents of no common order to the vilest purposes. He was possessed of courage, penetration, foresight, and presence of mind, and he degraded all these qualities by rendering them subservient to fraud. No man ever was so perfect a master of the art of disguise. Price, who was the son of a clothesman in Monmouth Street, was not out of his boyhood when he began to manifest his skill in cheating. When he was an apprentice, he put on the garb of a gentleman, assumed the name of Bolingbroke, and defrauded his master of a large quantity of goods. So well did he act his part, that his master did not know him, and, when Price returned home, he was ordered to carry the goods to the pretended Mr. Bolingbroke. His dishonest practices were at last detected, and he ran away. For this conduct his father disinherited him.
Price was afterwards a valet, and went the tour of Europe with Sir Francis Blake Delaval. While he was at Copenhagen, he wrote a pamphlet in vindication of the unfortunate Queen Matilda. He was subsequently a brewer, a distiller, an inmate of the King’s Bench for having defrauded the revenue, a lottery office keeper, and a gambler in the Alley. His plausible manners gained for him a wife with a considerable fortune, but he soon dissipated the money. About 1780, he began to forge upon the Bank. To detect him was difficult, for he made his own paper, with the proper water-marks, manufactured his own ink, engraved his own plates, and, as far as possible, was his own negotiator. His career, in spiteof every effort to arrest it, was continued for six years; in the course of which time he is said to have assumed no less than forty-five disguises; he was by turns thin, corpulent, active, decrepit, blooming with health, and sinking under disease. At last, in 1786, he was committed to Tothill Fields’ Bridewell, where, to escape the shame of a public execution, he put a period to his existence.
Numerous instances might be adduced of individuals, gifted with abilities far inferior to those of Price, who have levied contributions to an enormous amount upon the credulity of the public. It must suffice to give a specimen of them:—one was Miss Robertson, of Blackheath, who, by representing herself as having had a large estate bequeathed to her, contrived to make a multitude of egregious dupes; another was an adventurer known as “The Fortunate Youth,” who employed a similar pretence, and was equally successful. A third, whose pretension took a higher flight, must not be forgotten. The late Mrs. Serres, who assumed the title of Princess Olive of Cumberland, and pretended also to be descended from a line of Polish princes, has secured for herself a conspicuous place in the annals of imposture.
The most amusing, and perhaps the least noxious, of modern cheats, was a female, who assumed the name of Caraboo. She pretended to be a native of Javasu, in the Indian Ocean, and to have been carried off by pirates, by whom she had been sold to the captain of a brig. Her first appearance was in the spring of 1817, at Almondsbury, in Gloucestershire. Having been ill used on board the ship, she had jumped overboard, she said, swam on shore, and wandered about for six weeks before she came to Almondsbury. The deception was tolerably well sustained for two months; but at the end of that time, she disappeared, probably being aware that she was on the point of being detected. It was found that she was a native of Witheridge, in Devonshire, where her fatherwas a cobbler. Caraboo appears to have taken flight to America.[11]How she fared in that quarter of the world is not known; but, in 1824, she returned to England, and hired apartments in New Bond Street, where she exhibited herself to the public. She seems to have excited little attention, and was soon forgotten.
A very frequent case of imposture has been that of women pretending to have the power of going without food, and to have fasted for two, or three, or more years. Irksome and distressing as such a deceit must be, it has often been carried on, for a short time, so dexterously as to lull the suspicions of those around, who, being thus thrown off their guard, were satisfied that the abstinence, which perhaps was really persevered in for a short time, could be prolonged to any indefinite period.
Margaret Senfrit, the girl of Spires, was believed to have fasted three years. Catherine Binder, after continuing an alleged fast for five years, was separated from her parents, and placed under the care of four women, who affirmed that she had not eaten or drunk any thing for fourteen days, but had washed her mouth with brandy and water, to comfort her head and heart.
A young girl of Unna, who was said to have remained without eating or drinking for six months, was closely watched; the first night after her removal she was caught drinking a large cup of ale.
About 1800, the Osnaburg girl created great speculation. She had fasted, by report, a long time. Doubts arising, she was watched, and escaped the ordeal with her integrity unimpeached; but, a second watching having been undertaken by two medical men, her tricks were soon discovered.
Between 1808 and 1813, considerable interest was excited by various notices, in the newspapers and journals,respecting a woman of the name of Moore, living at Tutbury, in Staffordshire, who, from long illness, and other causes, was reported to have lost all desire for food, and at length acquired the art of living without any nourishment at all. No great alteration was visible in her appearance, her memory was very strong, and her piety extremely edifying. Being backed by medical testimony, the account was received as entitled to some credit; but all doubts were removed by watching the patient for sixteen days and nights, which took place in September 1808. From that time she attracted crowds of visiters from all parts of the country, who witnessed her condition with a sort of religious awe, and seldom quitted her without exercising their generosity towards her. Dr. Henderson visited her in 1812, in company with Mr. Lawrence. She was in bed, with a large Bible before her; she asserted she had tasted no solid food for upwards of five years, and no drink for four, and had no desire for either; and that she had not slept or lain down in bed for more than three. They left her, fully satisfied, from certain circumstances, that the history of her long fasting was a mere fabrication; and Dr. Henderson adduced many arguments to prove the absurdity of the imposture. The greatest wonder in the history was the blind infatuation of those who could for an instant entertain an idea of its truth.
Her dread of the repetition of the watching was a very suspicious circumstance, and seemed to imply that she had narrowly escaped detection; she said, that for nobody in the world would she undergo a repetition; her attendant styled it “a trial for her life.” Yet watching her for a fortnight, though sufficiently irksome, could have had nothing alarming, unless it involved the risk of starvation, which, it was afterwards proved, it did in reality.
At the earnest solicitation of the Rev. Leigh Richmond, she, however, consented to undergo another watching,assenting to its propriety as necessary to the establishment of truth. In April 1813, the watch was commenced by a committee of nineteen gentlemen, four remaining at one time in the room. She caught a severe cold whilst removing her from her bed, and at the end of a week she had a very severe attack of fever. On the ninth day she thought herself dying, and was very anxious to make an affidavit as to her innocence of all imposition. With great solemnity, she said, “In the face of Almighty God, and on my dying bed, I declare that I have used no deception, and that for six years I have taken nothing but once, the inside of a few black currants; for the last four years and a half, nothing at all.” In spite of this protestation, strong suspicions of fraud were excited, and, finally, evidence of guilt and falsehood were discovered. Concealment was now useless, and at last she publicly expressed her contrition for her long-continued imposture.
At one time, two hundred pounds, from the contributions of a wondering and credulous population, was placed for her in the hands of two respectable persons in the town; but this sum was subsequently withdrawn. The total amount of what she received was not known; but, as her children and one or two attendants lived with her during the six years of deception, it must have been pretty considerable.