No More Learning

to her porrion. Sir John took every opportunity to insinuate himself into
her company, and so far gained upon her affections as
32 MEMOIRS OF [william hi.
to obtain her consent to elope with him ; but the father, having some hints given him of their private courtship, kept a very watchful eye over their actions, and at last being confirmed in his suspicions, forbad
Sir John his house, and kept his daughter close. She being very uneasy under her confinement, arid being deprived of the sight of Sir John, whom she loved to distracrion, made a kinswoman her confidant, and entrusted her with a letter to Sir John, to let him know how uneasy her life was, and that if he would
come to such a place, at such a time, she would endeavour to make her escape, and meet him ; but
the lady thinking she should gain most by obliging
her uncle, delivered the letter to him, instead of Sir
John ; Mr. Magrath, having read sealed up again,
and sent to Sir John, who received with great
deal of satisfaction, and immediately wrote an answer,
and sends back by the same messenger.
repairing to the place of rendezvous, instead of meet
ing the lady, fell into an ambuscade of fellows with
sticks and clubs, who beat him so unmercifully that
he promised to relinquish his pursuit. parts, he repaired to Dublin where,
Leaving those
having before contracted debts, he was arrested, and thrown into
prison.
Not knowing how to extricate himself put
But
;
it it
it
it a
it,
WILLIAM iiii] REMARKABLE PERSONS. 33
of this difficulty, and having had some acquaintance with the Lady Thomond, who was a'zealous Roman Catholic, and knowing she kept a priest in her house, he sent a letter to her, acquainting her with his hard fortune, and informing her that he was reconciled to the see of Rome, begged that she would send her chaplain
to be assistant to him in the concerns of his soul. The lady acquiesced with his desire, and gave orders to her confessor to attend him; when intro duced to Sir John, he told him he could not be ignorant of the danger he was in, knowing how all those of his function were persecuted at that time, King^William having so lately made a conquest of that nation, and, therefore, he could not venture to stay long with him, hoping he was fully prepared to make his confession : Sir John replied, his confession was but short; — it was, that he wanted money, and he must work his deliverance, or he should be obliged to inform against him. The priest, being terrified, thought it better to part with his money, than hazard a discovery ; and gave him what he had about him, which was a good sum in broad pieces ; but Sir John, not thinking this enough to answer his wants, obliged him to send for a scrivener, and give him a bond for
60/. more, which being done, the priest was permitted VOL. I. F
34 MEMOIRS OF [william hi.
to depart. Sir John immediately employed a person
to settle with his creditors, and with the bond and part of the money compounded his debts, got out of
prison, and made the best of his way for England. Having been here some small time, and spent the remainder of his money, he was obliged to be
beholden to some of his countrymen for support : and Captain James Campbell having a design to steal an heiress, one Miss Mary Wharton,* he and Mr. Mont gomery were assistants in the affair ; which being
* Miss Wharton was daughter of Philip Wharton, Esq. , and at the age of thirteen, by his death, inherited 1 ,500Z. per annum, besides a personal property to the amount of 1,000/. This young lady resided with her mother, in Great Queen-street ; when Cap tain James Campbell, brother of the Earl of Argyle, wishing to possess so rich a prize, determined to marry her per force, and for that purpose prevailed upon Sir John Johnston and Archibald Montgomery to assist him in conveying Miss Wharton from her home. The enterprize succeeded but too well, to Johnston's cost ; Campbell, who was the real culprit, escaped punishment, and married Margaret Leslie, daughter of David Lord Newark, after parliament had dissolved his first marriage ; but every effort
to save Johnston proved inefiectual.
married Colonel Bierly, who commanded a regiment of horse in tbe service of William III.
Previous to this unpleasant affair, an act for preventing clan
destine marriages had been introduced
Commons, which met with considerable opposition ; and, although
Miss Wharton afterwards
into the House of
WILLIAM HI. ] REMARKABLE PERSONS. 35
done, and a reward of 100/. offered for the apprehend ing Captain Campbell, and 50/. a-piece for him and Mr. Montgomery. Sir John being betrayed by his landlord, was apprehended and indicted for the
11th of December, 1690. The evidence was in sub stance, that Miss Mary Wharton, being an heiress of considerable fortune, and under the care of her guardian, (Mr. Bierly,) was decoyed out on the 10th of November, and being met with by Sir John John ston, Captain Campbell, and Mr. Montgomery, in Queen-street, was forced into coach with six horses, (appointed to wait there by Captain Campbell,) and carried to the coachman's house, and there married to
Captain Campbell, against the consent of herself, or knowledge of her' guardian. The Jury finding the
prisoner Guilty, he received sentence of death.
At the plac^ bf execution, he addressed the specta
in which he not only endea voured to make appear he was blameless in the transaction for which he suffered, but that he had
Campbell's violence was strong argument in favor of the mea sure, the house rejected but annulled his marriage, much against the wishes of the Earl of Argyle, who earnestly petitioned that might be confirmed.
F
tors in long
2
it
a it,
it
a
a
it,
36 MEMOIRS OF [WILLIAM III.
been greatly wronged by printed papers, in which he was charged with a rape at Chester, and a siniilar crime at Utrecht, in Holland. He was executed, at
c Tyburn, the 23d of December, 1690.
JOY, ( Tlie En^'lisli Sainpson. ^
^V^ILLIAM
;, I
WILLIAM III. ] REMARKABLE PERSONS. 37
THE ENGLISH SAMPSON.
William Joy was a native of Kent, and born May 2, 1675, i at St. Lawrence, a small village, one mile, from Ramsgate,. in the Isle of Thanet. When very young, he distinguished himself among his juve-
. nile companions 'and play-mates, by 'his amazing superiority in strength, over any antagonist that dare to ;come in competition with his power, whether in play or earnest, iWhen ; about twenty-four years; of
age, he first began to exhibit in spublic his astonishing feats, ihf a disjplay of personal prowess inferior tonone but the Hebrew champion recorded in holy writ. Among^^ many other of this man's extraordinary per formances may be recorded: — 1. A strong horse,
> urged by the whip to escape his powerful rein, is
'"
kept froffli escape by the check solely
T^srestrained and
of his pull, aided by a strong rope, and this without
stay, or support; whatever. 2. Seated upon a
any
stool, with his legs hPrizontally elevated, solely by muscular power, he jumps clearly from his seat.
38 MEMOIRS OF [william iii.
3. To prove the agility and flexibility of his joints, he places a glass of wine on the sole of his foot, and, in an erect posture, without the least bending of his head
or body, raises the glass to his mouth, and drinks the contents, turning his foot with both hands, to accom modate his draught. 4. Aided by a strong leather
girdle, or belt, and supporting himself by pressing his arms on a railing, he lifts from the ground a stone of the enormous weight bf 5240 lbs. 5. A rope fastened to wall, which had borne 3500 lbs. weight, without
giving way, is broke asunder by his amazing strength. The celebrity of this man attracted the curiosity of King WiUiam III. , befbre whom he exhibited at Kensington Palace ; likewise before George, Prince of Denmark, and his royal consort, the Princess, after
wards Queen Ann, and their son William, Duke of Gloucester, called the hopes of England. — He also
went through a regular course of performances
at the Salisbury-square, which was attended by the first nobility and gentry in the kingdom. The portrait of William Joy, which
is presumed to be unique, is dated 1699, and printed
Duke's Theatre, in Dorset-gardens,
on a whole sheet, and is noticed
catalogue of English Heads, but has escaped notice of the Rev. Mark Noble, in his continuation of
by Bromley in his the
WILLIAM III. J REMARKABLE PERSONS. 39
At all times, and in all ages, we hear and read of ex traordinary persons, celebrated for one thing or another. September 4th, 1818, was shown at Bar tholomew Fair, "The strongest woman in Europe,
the celebrated French Female Hercules^ Madame Gobert, who will lift with her teeth a table five feet
long and three feet wide, with several persons seated upon it ; also carry thirty-six weights, fifty-six pounds
each, equal to 2016 lbs. and will disengage herself from them without any assistance ; will , carry a barrel containing 340 bottles ; also an anvil 400 lbs. weight, on which they will forge with four hammers at the same time she supports it on her stomach; she will also hft with her hair the same anvil, swing it from
the ground, and suspend it in that position to the astonishment , of every beholder ; will take up a chair by the hind stave with her teeth, and throw it over her head, ten feet from her body. Her travelling
caravan, (weighing two tons,) on its road from Har wich to Leominster, owing to the neglect of the driver, and badness of the road, sunk in the mud,
nearly to the box of the wheels ; the two horses being
Granger's Biographical History.
The head is sur rounded with five vignettes, representing the manner in which he performed his various feats of strength.
40 MEMOIRS OF [william iii.
unable to extricate it she descended, and, with appa rent ease, disengaged the caravan from its situation, without any assistance whatever. "
Having the curiosity to see this wonderful Female, I went for the purpose of accurately observing her manner of performance, which was by laying ex tended at length on her back on three chairs, pillows were then placed over her legs, thighs, and stomach,
over those two thick blankets, and then a moderately thick deal board, the thirty-six weights were then placed on the board, beginning at the bottom of the legs, and extending upwards above the knees and thighs, but none approaching towards the stomach. She held the board on each side with her hands, and when the last Weight was put on, she pushed the board upwards on one side, and tumbled the weights to the ground. On the whole, there appeared more of trick than personal strength in this feat. Her next performance was raising the anvil, (which might weigh nearly 200 lbs. ,) from the ground with her hair, which is thick, black, and as strong
in the tail of a horse; this is platted on
side, and fixed to two cords, which is attached to
the anvil, then rising from a bending to an erect
posture, she raises : and. swings the
anvil several
as that
each
WILLIAM HI. ]
REMARKABLE PERSONS. 41
times backwards and forwards through her legs.
next feat was raising a table with her teeth, a slight
rickety thing, made of deal, with a bar across the
legs, which, upon her grasping sustained against
her thighs, and enables her more easily to swing
round several times, maintaining her hold only her
teeth. The chair she makes nothing of, but canters
over her head like plaything.
derfully strong woman evident, but that she can
little exertion, quarter of hundred weight.
In the year 1794, the writer of this article saw at the Admiralty Coffee-house, Charing-cross, man
named Sheppard, sergeant the Coventry volun teers, commanded by Colonel Troughton he was then about five or six-and-twenty years of age, and was remarked by his comrades and friends for extra ordinary strength, many particulars of which were related, that aroused the curiosity of some officers of that regiment, and some gentlemen, their friends, to see the man and become witnesses of his power after being introduced, and requested to show proof of strength, he desired to have few oysters sent for, the
VOL. I. G
notorious untruth. She has an infant which now sucks at her breast, about eleven months old that lifts, with very
That she won
Her
perform what promised in her bills
a
a in
a
;
;
a
is a
a a
is
;
it, is
a is
it
is a
by
it
42 MEMOIRS OF
[william hi.
largest which could be procured, unopened, which being produced, (and large ones they were) he took six, and devoured them shells and all, in a manner we
see a person munch a biscuit ; a heavy mahogany qoffee-house-table, seven feet long and four wide, he fixed his teeth in, placing his arms behind him, and, by mere strength, elevated the end to touch the ceiling ; he likewise took two men, of moderate size, one in each hand, raised them from the ground, and held them at arms length ; but he acknowledged his superior strength to lay in his jaw and neck. He has been known to take a pewter pint pot, and tear it into pieces and shreds with his teeth, and what may appear extraordinary, he said he felt a visible decay of strength upon any time having his hair cut ; whether this was an affectation of imitating Samson of old or
not, we cannot determine, but must entirely depend on the man's assertion ; — but all this does not come up to the feats of William Joy. Topham, Sheppard, and Madame Gobert, were but pigmies compared with the English Samson.
The facetious Tom Brown, in a letter to George
Moult, Esq. upon the breaking up of Bartholomew Fair, informs him, that '' a man may easily foretell,
without pretending to the gift of prophecy, that the
generally
WILLIAM III. ] REMARKABLE PERSONS. 43
stage will be short-lived, and the strong Kentish-man will take possession of the two play-houses, as he has already done of that in Dorset-gardens. " And, in a postscript to the same epistle, he adds, " The strong Kentish-man, (of whom you have heard so many stories) has, as I told you above, taken up his quarters in Dorset-gardens, and how they'll get him out again the Lord knows, for he threatens to thrash all the Poets, if they pretend to disturb him. Mr. Joseph Haines was his master of the ceremonies, and intro duced him in a prologue upon the stage ; and, indeed, who so fit to do it as this person, whose breath is as strong as the Kentish-man's back. "
g2
4efc
MEMOIRS OF
[william hi.
mt. ^ofitt u^mit^*
¦^. Dti'. JoJiiii Radcliffje, a man eqaally singular ih,his manJiers as he rendered! himself so. by his cures, was a native; of Wakefield, in Yorkshire, of respectable parentage, but burthened with the oh^i|;e of a numer ous family. The . neighbouring gentry observing in Radcliffe an ex^ell^'nt capacity iwhen a boy, induced them to educate him, at their own expence ; and, wiien he arrived at the age of fifteen, he was sent to University -College, Oxford, where his mother (then a widow) assisted him in obtaining a thorough know ledge of Botany, Chemistry, and Anatomy. afterwards became a fellow of Lincoln College, and commenced physician, with a sovereign contempt
He
"is Radcliffe? s library," pointing to a few books on a window-seat. The faculty, in revenge, called his cures "guess work," and he retorted by terming them "o/d nurses. " — His abhorret^ce of the practice of
for the works pf medical writers. "There," said he,
WILLIAM HI. ] REMARKABLE PERSONS. 45
consulting the water of patients is well known;* nature was his guide, and she led him to adopt a cool regimen in the small-pox, which has saved numbers of lives, and preserved the smoothness and beauty of many faces. Several circumstances conspired to ren der his residence at Oxford unpleasant ; he, therefore, went to London, where his practice became general,. and he was equally celebrated for his wit and his pre scriptions ; the former blazed forth with native frank
ness, without respect to place or persons ; he once said to King William, " I would not have your two legs for your three kingdoms :" and to Queen Anne, by a messenger who had been sent for him, that " her majesty was as well as any woman in England, if she would think so. "
Dr. Radcliffe was a firm friend, and his lamenta tions on the death of the Duke of Beaufort and Lord
* A woman, the wife of a shoe-maker, went to the doctor with her husband's water, (who was ill,) in a urinal, for advice ; he threw the water away, withdrew, and filled it with his own, bidding her return and shew her husband that, and make him a pair of boots to fit. The poor woman said the thing was impossible, without his being measured ; and so is it to cure him, replied Radcliffe, without seeing him.
46 MEMOIRS OF
[william ui.
Craven do honour to his feelings ; he has, however, been accused of parsimony, and neglect of his family ; the latter charge he endeavoured to obviate, by leaving liberal annuiries to his two sisters, two nephews and a niece, and rewarding his servants ; several acts are
recorded ofhis benevolence, and he not only forgave, but provided for a criminal who had robbed him, and exulted in restoring to his place and confidence a servant whom he suspected and had dismissed. He was once informed of a considerable loss he had sus tained by the capture of a ship, in which some of his property had been embarked, and answered the usual
compliments of condolence with a smile, and put round the bottle, " my lord, I have only to go up 250 pair of stairs to make myself whole again. "
A nobleman of high rank, whom the doctor had attended, and who was afflicted with a quinsey in the throat, being by his friends considered in imminent danger, and Radcliffe refusing to go on the first send ing for, the servants had orders to take the carriage and bring him to the patient by force ; this the coach man literally obeyed, thrusring the doctor into the carriage, and driving him home, where, when arrived, he ordered the coachman and
attend him into their master's chamber,
he footman to giving orders
WILLIAM HI. ] REMARKABLE PERSONS. 47
to the footman to make the cook get ready imme diately a dish of hot hasty-pudding, and send it up ; keeping the coachman in the room, under pretence of his assistance being necessary. The pudding ready, the doctor desired the coachman to give some to his master while hot, which the sick nobleman
declining to take, the doctor made the coachman be seated with
him to partake of it; neither for a time could taste it for the heat, but Radcliffe, after blowing and pretend ing to take a spoonful, very dexterously threw a hot one in the coachman's face, who, hot relishing the
salutation, immediately returned the compliment in that of the doctor's, —the sight of this curious engage
ment set the sick nobleman into a convulsion of laughter, which broke the quinsey, and brought the doctor to the assistance of his patient, to prevent suf focation.
Dr. Radcliffe's constiturion was strong, and he had a turn for conviviality ; but when he entertained Prince Eugene, he gave him plain beef and pudding, for which
"the prince returned him thanks, as having considered him "not as a courtier, but as a soldier. "
It is believed that he distributed large sums in private charity, to the non-juring clergy of England, and the deprived episcopal clergy of Scotiand ; and
48 MEMOIR^ OF [william hi.
he is known to have been very liberal to the society for promoring Chrisrian Knowledge ; and to his friend Dr. Walker, a Roman Catholic, to whom he gave a handsome competence, and a respectable funeral after his decease ; it has been suspected that he gave his purse, with his friendship, to Dr. Sacheverel.
He resided next door to Sir Godfrey Kneller, with whom, for a time, he lived on friendly terms, and who several rimes painted his portrait ; but some dispute arising, concerning a garden-door which separated
their houses, Sir Godfrey threatened to have it nailed
up, which coming to the knowledge of the doctor, he
faceriously said. Sir Godfrey was welcome to do what he pleased with provided he did not paint it.
Sir Godfrey's rejoinder was, he could take that or any thing else from the doctor, except physic
He was to have married lady with 15,000/.
fortune, who endeavoured to conceal
by favoured lover far from
after the discovery, he pleaded to her father for for giveness, and advised him to marry her to the man of her choice, that he might give his property legally to the young Hans-en-kelder.
Dr. Radcliffe died, November
buried at St. Mary's Church, Oxford, with solem-
her pregnancy resenting her conduct
1714, and was
a
1,
;
a
it, a
!
WILLIAM HI. ] REMARKABLE PERSONS. 49
nity commensurate to his munificence to that Univer sity. His death is supposed to have been accelerated by the vexation he experienced at not having attended
Queen Anne, during her last moments, as ordered by the privy-council. His property, (exclusive of the legacies mentioned above,) he bequeathed to the Uni
of Oxford, where his library is a sufficient monument to bis memory ; and to St. Bartholomew's
versity
Hospital, in London.
VOL. I.
II
50
Memoirs of [william m.
Thomas Rymer was born in Yorkshire, and had his education at the University of Cambridge, b'lit in what college is not kiioWn. On his settling in Lon don, he became a member of the society of Gray's Inn, and, in 1692, succeeded Mr. Shadwell, as his toriographer to King William IIL, a situation he was well qualified to fill, from his extensive reading, and
deep research into books and manuscripts connected
with English History. He was a man ofgreat learn
ing, and a lover of poetry ; but, when he set up for a
critic, he brought a swarm of disappointed authors
roiind him, that almost galled and stung him to death,
in revenge for his unmercifully scourging the offspring of their brains. His critical writings prove he had
very few requisites for the,character he had assumed, and he was indeed almost totally disqualified for
his want of candour. —The severities which he has exercised in his View of the Tragedies of the last
Age, against the inimitable Shakespeare,
to be forgiven, and must surely be considered as
are scarcely
a
it,
by
THOMAS ]iY:M:EIl.
WILLIAM Hi. ;j REMARKABLE PERSONS. 51
kind of sacrilege committed on the memory of our imniortal Bard. The publication brought on him a very severe satire, from the pen pf a brother author, apd equally severe criric, under the title of " A Description of the Miseries of a Garreteer Poet," in a print representing Mr. Rymer and his distressed family, in a miserable attic, with the following descrip
tion of the place and furniture, " in one corner of this ppeticgl apartment stood a flock-bed, and underneath it a green Jordan presented itself to the eye, which had collected the nocturnal urine of the whole family,, consisting of Mr. Rymer, his wife, ^nd two daugh ters ; three rotten chairs and half seemed to stand like traps in various parts of the room, threatening down fall to unwary strangers ; and one spHtary table, in the middle of this aerial apartment, served to hold the different treasures of the whole family ; there was now
lying upon the first act pf Comedy, pair ofyel low stays, two political pamphlets, plate of bread and butter, three dirty night-caps, and volume of miscellaneous poems. The lady of the house was
neck pf mutton in meagre soup, and their two daughters sat in the window mending their father's brown stpckings, with blue worsted such was the mansiop of Mr. Rymer, the poet and, to
H
drowning
2
;
;
a
a aa
it,
a
52
MEMOIRS OF
[william iii.
complete his misfortunes, instead of an expected reward for his works from a nobleman, he brought home as a present little Pompey : this so exasperated
his wife, that with savage hands she seized his works on the table, and was going to commit them to the flames, but her husband's voice interrupted her, crying out, see ! see ! see ! my dear, the pot boils over, and
the broth is all running into the fire ; this luckily put an end to their debate, they sat down to dinner with
out a table-cloth, envying one another everj' morsel that escaped their own mouths. "
That Mr. Rymer's talents for dramatic poetry were
inferior to those of the persons whose wrirings he has with so much rigour attacked, will be apparent to every one who will take the trouble of perusing one play, which he has given to the world,
entitled, Edgar, a tragedy, 4to. , 1678.
But although he did not rank high in fame or judg
ment as a poet and a criric, yet it cannot be denied but that he was a very excellent anriquary and histo rian. Some of his pieces, relating to our constitu
tion, are remarkably good ; and his well-known valu
extremely
able and most useful
work, entitled the Fcedera,
printed
everlasting monument of his worth, his indefatigable
in seventeen volumes,
folio, will stand an
WILLIAM HI. ] REMARKABLE PERSONS, 53 assiduity, and clearness of judgment as an historical
compiler.
1713, and was buried in the parish-church of St. Cle ment's Danes.
He died on the 14th day of December,
54 MEMOIRS OF
^fimnii»'Wmm>
[^^il^iaj? iit.
Tho. mas' Tryon was one among many instances " tolprpye; how niiuch personal industry, aided Jby pru-
deiice, may effecf; H[e was born at Bibury, ? « Glou cestershire, of pafrents in a very huttible Situation ; his
father was a plasterer and tile-malser, and, at five years of age, rendered jjiiis spn useful towatds iearninfg a part to. slippprt hittiself; by spinning and carding of wool, and assisridg hirn in his own trade bf a plasterer, which o'dcupatjp^i he quitted: to assume the office of a shepherd. At thirteen years of age he first began to learn tp read, and at fourteen, by the strictest fru gality, he . found himself master bf several sheep, one
of which he gave to be taught the art of wriring ; and, . shortly afterwards, spld his whole stock, of sheep for three pounds, and with that sum in his pocket
made the best of his way to London, in hopes of im proving his litrie fortune : he was not long in finding a situation, and became apprentice to a hat-maker, at Bridewell Dock: he paid the greatest attention in learning his business, to which he devoted the whole
THOMAS
TUYO:^,
WILLIAM III. J REMARKABLE PERSONS. 55
of the day, and amii'sed himself the greatest part of
the night in reading ; he Was peculiarly attached to books of astrplogy and the occult Sciences, and Lilly, Partridge, BPoker, and others of the same classy were his infallible orades. In ittlitaribh of R'oger Crabb, the Uxbridge hermiti, he rejected the use of animal food, and affected to consider the lives of the dumb creation as sacred. Having heated his imagination to the highest pitch, he boasted that by his "tctope- rahce, cleanliness, and innPcency," he Was purified for celestiarenjoyntietit, and had felt himself inspired with divine illuminations. He possessed, however, suffi cient prudence to take care of that which the gene rality of the woi^d call "the main chance. " He entered ahd pursued business With such attention and success, that he accumulated a considerable fortune. His amusements and fancies were innocent, and hurt none ; and, like some other humourists, 'naarked the progress of the spirit in a journal, in which he care fully recorded the mighty-working wonders of his pro lific brain, and at forty-eight commenced author upon other subjects, not less extraordinary than the pre ceding.
Tryon. was of a sensible, enthusiastic mind, acring enrirely from his own resolves ; not submitting to the
[william hi.
or advice of any one ; had society or friend ship directed him, or assisted his experience and appli
56 MEMOIRS OF
guidance
cation, he might have produced
remark, and we might have admired, and
something worthy been improved, instead of wondering and smiling at his
mode of burying birds, or laughing at his
singular
abomination of woollen cloth, and his permission fpr our wearing linen.
He died August 21, 1703, at the age of 69, when perhaps he had thoughts of remaining a series of ages in this worid, through: his tenderness to beasts, birds, fishes, insects, and reptiles.
^itJru^'^^^ies^of^ainesWkllny. tJte^olQnoti/^
WILLIAM HI. ] REMARKABLE PERSONS. 57
'^aimi6i Wifjitntst*
In general,, the. biographers of rogues and vaga bonds give their heroes a tijle to wit and ingenuity very, far beyond the abilities of the : scoundrels they record ; to this^t in a; great Sieasure,: isjPwing the dif ficulty of finding out, and appreciating as they merit, genuine aneedotesipf, -the characters delineated. If any man becomes distinguished by crime, a hun dred stories are immediately put in circulation, attrir
butirigmatter^ to his inven tioBj to which he was not pnly incompetent, but /-absQluptely a stranger to the very circumstaiifiesirelated.
One of this description appears to have been James
Whitney, who, in addition to his dWB depredations,
has the credit of many he never probably committed* He was born at SteVenage in Hertfordshire,, and,
Mfhen fit. ifor servitude, was apprenticed t<a a butcher, with whom he continued until the exJ»irarion bf his lime; but no sooner did he become his own master, than besgavewayjjto a very irregular course ofhfe.
Going with- another butcher to Romford/ in Essex, VOL. I. I
58
MEMOIRS OF
[william hi.
in order to buy calves, they met with one they had a particular fancy to ; but the owner demanded what they thought an extravagant price for so that they
bargain however, as the man kept public-house, our companions agreed to go
and drink with him. They were much vexed at not being able to purchase the calf, when Whitney sud denly proposed the stealing of to which the other consenting, they sat drinking till night.
In the evening, fellow came into the town with great she-bear, which he carried about for show, and put up at the house where the two butchers were drinking in an inner room; the landlord was
some time before he could contrive where to lodge
the bear, but at last he resolved to move the calf into
another out-house, and tie madam Bruin up in his
place, which was done accordingly, without the
could not strike
knowledge
oi Whitney and his friend, who conrinued
drinking till they were told was time to go to bed.
Upon this warning they paid their reckoning, and
went out, staying in the fields near the town till
they imagined the time favored their design. The
night
was very dark, and they came to the stall
without making any noise or disturbance;
was to go and fetch out the calf, while the other
Whitney
in
it
;
a
a
a
a
it,
a
in
it,
WILLIAM III. ] REMARKABLE PERSONS. 59
watched without; when he entered he felt about, rill he got hold of the bear, which lying after the sluggish manner peculiar to those creatures, he began to tickle it to make it rise ; at last, being awaked, the beast being muzzled, rose up on her hind-legs, not know ing but it was her master going to show her.
Whitney srill continued feeling about, wondering at the length of the calf's hair, and that he should stand in such a posture, till the bear caught hold of him and hugged him fast between her fore-feet.
In this posture he remained, unable to move, and afraid to cry out, till tbe other butcher, wondering at his long stay, put his head in at the door, and said with a low voice, What the plague will you
Inight — I quoth be all the stealing a calf! A calf!
believe it is the devil that
to steal, for he hugs me as closely as he does the witch in the statue. Let it be the devil, says t'other, brihg him out, however, thIat we may see what he is
Whitney,
am going
like, which is something
know. Whitney was too much surprised to be pleased with the jesting of his companion, so that he replied, with soIme choler, ComeI, and fetch him
bed d
yourself , for may if half
like him. Hereupon t'other entered, and, after a little examina-
12
glad should be very to
60 MEMOIRS OF
[wlLLiAM HI.
tion, found how they were bit* By his assistance Whitney got loose, and they both swore they would never attempt to steal calves any more.
Whitney, after this, took the George Inn, at Ches- hunt, in Hertfordshire, where, for a time, he enter tained all sorts' of bad company ; but, this speculation not answering, in a little time he was compelled to shut up his house, and retreat to London, where he began to practice every sort of fraud and villany. —
It was some time before he took to the highway, following only the common tricks practised by the sharpers of the town, in which he was the more successful, as he always went dressed like a gentle
man.
One morning, as Whitney stood on Ludgate-hill,
at a mercer's door, waiting for a friend whom he expected to come by, two ladies of the town came along ; these • ladies took our gentleman for the master of the shop, and supposing him to biecome an easy
dupe, asked him if he had any fine silks bf the newest fashion ; Whitney teadWyr&pWedi that he had none by him at present he could recommend, but in a day or two's time he should have choicei several weavers being to bring him in pieces, made from the
last fashions brought up, and beggeld to know whire
WILLIAM III. ] REMARKABLE PERSONS. 61
he might have the honor to wait on them with sam* jp/«*,—-to which one of the ladies replied. That being n4wly come to town, they did not remember the, name of the street ; but it was not far off, and if he pleased to go with them, they would show him their habitar tion. Whitney politely consented, and, to make the affair appear with a better face, he :stepperi into the
shop, as if he went to give orders to the shopman, to
whom he only put a few trifling questions, and came out again unsuspected. Having accpmpanied the
ladies home, he very civilly offered to take his leave of them. — iVhy, Sir, says one of thetn, but you shall walk in and take a glass of wine wiihus,:sinee-^ou have been so good as to give yourself all this trouble. Whitney thanked them, and, with abundance of com»-
plaisance, accepted the invitation. . :. •,,
Hitherto -both ! parties v/eve dec&WQd;
Whitney took them for gendewomen of fortnne, and
really
came' home with them only to learn something that migbt^ forward him to make a prejl of them;, and they as Confideiltly believed him to be the mercer, who «wned the shop at which they picked him up. Th^ir designs were to get his money out of his i ppcket, andi "if they could, a suit or two of silk into i\\e bargain. What confirmed them in this opinion was,
iB2 MEMOIRS OF
[william hi.
the notice he took of several gentiemen as he passed along the street, by pulling off his hat to them, and
their returning the compliment. Whitney did it for this very purpose, and it is natural and common for men of fashion to return the salutation of those who notice them.
The ladies introduced the supposed mercer into an apartment splendidly furnished, where a table was instantly spread with a fine cold collation. This be ing over, the servant and one of the ladies withdrew, leaving the other alone with our adventurer, who soon discovered the drift of her ladyship ; but, willing to keep on the mask, after many amorous professions, promised her as much silk as would make her a com plete dress.
Whitney was so well pleased with his adventure and reception at this place, that he was resolved, if possible, to have a little more of the same enjoy ment, and to that end went to a mercer, and told him, that such a lady had sent him to desire that he
¦would send one of his men with two or three pieces of the richest silk he had, for her to choose a gown and petticoat. The person knowing the person of
quality he named, she having been his customer
before, and witlicut
mistrusting any thing, sent a
WILLIAM ill. ] REMARKABLE PERSONS.
63
youth, who was but newly come apprentice, telhng him the prices, in Whitney's hearing. Our adven
turer led the lad through as many bye-streets as he could, in order to carry him out of his knowledge, till
a house in Suffolk-street, which had a
into Hedge-lane, he desired the young man to stay at the door, while he carried in the silks to shew them to the lady, who lodged there ; the youth very readily agreed, and Whitney went into the house, and asked the people for somebody whom they did not know ; and, upon their telling him no such person lived in that neighbourhood, he desired leave to go through, which was granted, and he got clear off with his prize, which he immediately, carried to
his two ladies, and divided between them. After which he revelled with them in all manner of excess for several days, and then withdrew himself.
He was resolved, however, that nobody but him self should enjoy the fruit of his industry, and since he could not have the profit of his cheat, he thought proper to restore the mercer his goods again. To this end he writes a letter where the women lived, and the shop-keeper, getting a warrant and constable, went and found the silks in their possession; all the excuse they could make, as receiving them from . the
observing thoroughfare
64
MEMOIRS OF [william hi.
right bwner, availed nothing ; they were hurried before a magistrate, who comnaitted them to TothilUJields Bridewell, where their backs were covered with stripes
of the cat-and-nine-tails, instead of the eleemosynary silks, which they made so sure of.
Whitney had now become a confirmed highway man, and meeting a gentleman on Bagshot-heath, he
him' I commanded to stand and deliver, to which the
other replied, Sir, 'tis well you spoke first ; for
just going to say the same thing to yoii. — Why, are
you gentleman I quoth Whitney. —
a thief then ? Yes,
gentleman! told i some Pther trav^ellers by what stra tagem he had escaped being, robbed on the road. Whitney had so altered his habit and speechj that the gentleman did not know him again ; so that he heard ail the story without being taken any notice of. Among other things, he heard him tell one of the company softly, that he had saved an himdred pounds
by his contrivance. The person to whom he had
whispered
this, was going the saitne vifayiithe next
have had bad success to very
said the stranger, but
day. Whitney upon this wished him better liick, and took bis- lekve,: really supposing him to be what': he pretended. — At night it was the fortune of Whitney and this person to put up at the same inn, whew our
was
WILLIAM HI. ] REMARKABLE PERSONS. 65
morning, and said, he had also, a considerable sum about him, and, if he pleased, should be glad to travel with him for security.
When morning came, the travellers set out, and Whitney about a quarter of an hour after them ; all the discourse of the gentlemen was about cheating the highwaymen, if they should meet any. When Whitney, at a convenient place, had got before them, and bid them stand, the gentleman whom he met
before not knowing him, he having disguised him self after another manner, briskly cried out. We were going to say the same to you. Sir. — Were you so?
quoth Whitney, and are you of my profession then ? — Fes, said they both. If you are, replied Whitney, I. suppose you remember the old proverb, two of a trade can never agree, so that you must not expect any favor, on that score. But to be plain, gentlemen,
the trick will do no longer; I
you very,
and must have your hundred pounds. Sir; and your considerable sumI, SzV, turning to the other, let it be.
well,
shall make bold to send a brace bullets through each ofyour heads. You, Mr. High-
waymaui should have kept your secret a little longer, and not have boasted so soon of having outwitted a
what it will, or
of
VOL. I.
K
know
66 MEMOIRS OF [william hi.
thief; there is now nothing for you to do, but deliver or die!
These terrible words put them both into a sad consternation: they were loth to lose their money, but more loth to lose their lives ; so, of two evils they chose the least, the tell-tale coxcomb disbursing his hundred pounds, and the other a somewhat larger sum, prpfessing that they would be careful for the future not to count without their host.
Another time, Whitney met with one Mr. Hull^an old usurer, in the Strand, as he was riding across Hounslow-heath. He could hardly have chosen a wretch more in love with money,; and, consequently, who would have been more unwilling to have parted with it. When the dreadful words were spoken, he trembled like a paralyric, and fell to expostulating the case in the most moving expressiotis' he was master of, professing tiiat he was a very poor man, had a large
family of children, and should be utterly ruined if he was so hard-hearted as to take his money from him. He added, moreover, the illegality of such an action, and how very dangerous it was to engage in such
evil courses. Whitney, who knew him, cried out in a great passion : Sirrah, do you pretend to preach
WILLIAM III. ] REMARKABLE PERSONS. 67
morality to an honester man than yourself; you make
grind I a prey of all mankind, and to death with
eight and ten per cent. This once, however. Sir, shall oblige you to lend me what you have without
bondi consequently m,ore viords.
without interest; so make no
Old Hull, hereupon, pulled out about eighteen guineas, which he gave with a great deal of grumbling; telling him withal, that he should see him one time or another ride up Hotborn-hill backwards. Whitney was going about his business till he heard these words, when he returned, and pulled the old gentle man off his horse, putting him on again with his face towards the horse's tail, and tying his legs; Now, says he, you old rogue, let me see what a figure a man makes when he rides backwards, and let nie have the pleasure, at least, of beholding you first in that posture. So giving the horse three or four good cuts with his whip, he set him a running so fast, that he never stopt till he came to Hounslow town, where the people loosed our gentleman, after they had made themselves a little merry with the sight.
always affected to appear generous and K2
Whitney
68 MEMOIRS OF [william hi.
noble ; meeting one day with a gendeman on New market-heath, whose name was Long, and having robbed him of a hundred pounds, in silver, which
was in his portmanteau, tied up in a great bag, the gentleman told him that he had a great way tb go, and, as he was unknown upon the road, should meet with many difficulties, if he did not restore as much as would bear his expences. Whitney opened the mouth of the bag, and holding it to Mr. Long, Here, says he, take what you have occasion for. Mr. Long put in his hand, and took out as much as he could hold : to which Whitney Imade no opposition', but only
thought you
more conscience. Sir.
Coming once to Doncaster,- he put up at the Red
Lion Inn, and made a great figure, having a pretty
said with a smile,
would have had
round sum in his possession.
here, he was informed that the landlord of the house was reputed rich, but withal so covetous, that he Would do nothing to help a poor relation or neigh bour in distress. On this Whitney set his wits to
Work, and gives out that he had a good estate, and travelled about the country merely for his pleasure^ and so artfully insinuated himself into the • good
While he resided
WILLIAM HI. ] REMARKABLE PERSONS. 69
opinion of his host, that he ran most plentifully into his debt, both for his own accommodation, and the keep of his horse.
It happened that while he remained here, there was an annual fair held ; upon the fair-day, in the morning, a small box, carefully sealed, and very weighty, came directed to him. He opened took out letter, which he read, and locked up, and gave
to his landlady, desiring her to keep in her cus tody for the present, because would be safer than in his own hands, and ordered the landlord, at the
same rime, to write out his bill, that he might pay him the next morning as soon as he had done this, he went out, as though to see the fair. In the afternoon he comes home again, great hurry, and- desired his horse might be dressed and saddled, he
mind to shew him in the fair,; and, if he could, to exchange him for one he had seen,- and which, he thought was the finest that ever he fixed his eyes on. — will have him, says he, possible, whether the owner will buy mine or no, and though he cost me forty guineas; he then asked for his land lady to help him to his box, but she was gone to the fair whereupon he fell swearing like madman, that he supposed she had locked up what he gave
having
;
it
a
a
a
if
it it
a I
in a
:
it
it,
fO MEMOIRS OF [william hi.
her, and taken the keys with her: Ifshe has<, quoth
he, 1 had rather have given ten guineas, for I
have no money at all, but what is in your possession. En
quiry was made, and it was found to ;be as he said, which put him into a srill greater passion, though it was what he wished for, and even expected, the whole having been invented for the sake of this
single scene.
The landlord quickly had norice of our gentle
man's anger, and the occasion of it; upon which he comes to him, and begs of him to be easy, offering to send him the sum he wanted, till his wife came home* Whitney seemed to resent it highly, that he must be obliged to borrow money when he had so much of his own; however, as there was no other way, he condescended, with abundance of reluctance^ to accept the proposal ; adding, that ' he desired ah account of all. he was indebted as soon as possible,
as it was not his custom to run hand over head. Having received forty guineas, the sum he pre
tended to want, he mounts his horse, and rides towards the fair, but instead of dealing there for another hcffse, he spurred his own through the crowd, asfestashe could conveniently, and made the best
of his way towards London. At night the people
WILLIAM III. ] REMARKABLE PERSONS. 71
of the inn. sat up very late for his coming home, nor did they suspect any thing the first, or even the stecond night, but at the end of two or three days the landlord was a little uneasy ; and, after he had waited a week to no purpose, jt came into bis head tp break open the box, in order to examine it. With this ^view he goes tp the magistrate of the place, prpcures his warrant, and, in presence of a constsible
and other witnesses, bfbke open the casket, and was ready to hang himself when he found the contents to be npthing but sand and stpnes.
This was, however, the last of Whitney's adven tures, fpr not long after his arrival in town he was 3pprehended in White Friars, upon the information of Mother Cozens, who kept a bawdy-house in MUr
ford-lane, over-against St. Clement's Chv-reh. The magistrate, who took the information, committed him to Newgate, where he remained till the next sessions at the Old Bailey. Being brought to trial, and found guilty, the Recorder passed sentence of death on him, and exhorted him to a sincere repentance, as it was impossible for him to hope for any reprieve, after such a course of villanies : and, on Wednesday, the 19th of December, 1694, he was carried to the place of execution, which was at Porter s Block, near
72 MEMOIRS OF [william lir.
Smithfield, Where he addressed the people in the fol lowing words :—
"
human and divine.
present, but has often heard my name, before my
/
very great
against
offender, both
God, and my CountrIy, by transgressing all laws,
¦
have been a
believe there is not one here
confinement, and have seen a large catalogue ofm,y crimes, Iwhich have been made public since; —why
is justI
, and
which rehension
then pretend to a
vindicate life stained with
should
so many enormIous deeds ? —The sentence passed on me
can see footsteps
the of a providence,
peace with heaven, the only thing that is now ofany concern to me. Join in your prayers with me, my
dear countrymen, that God would not forsake me in my last moments.
pI
have these things of
had before
and conviction.
at, in my ap sense which
Ilaughed
hope the
has enabled me to make my
profanely
Having spoke thus, and afterwards spent
private
being about thirty-four years of age.
a few turned off
moments in
devorion, he was
. SOP,
TIlc DrunKeTi rlr^'xn. iue•o Coliler of Eton.
^¥1
ANNE. ]
REMARKABLE PERSONS. 73
ire^ojp ofiston«
Cobblers, in general, have the character of being great tipplers, and JEsop of EtPn was not of a dis
position
there is every reason to suppose him to have been deformed, similar to his fabled '^namesake of anti- qiiity. In the' feign of Queen Anne, when the Whig and Tory politicians so hberally bespattered one another, >Esop was determined not to remain
neuter, and, inspired by the classic- air bf Eton, he started in the treble pursuits of pblitics, poetry, and
cobbhng, and employed his pen and awl alternately^ to patch the state and old shoes and boots. The latter prCfeSsion, however, succeeded with him best; as his cobbling jobs enabled hini to keep St, Cris- pinV- weekly holiday regularly throughout the year,
¦ and the copious draughts of Sir John Barleycorn's delightful beverage enabled him' to exercise his muse
VOL. I. L
to falsify the common asserrion, that a cobbler, when drunk, is "as great as a lord. " The real name of this genius has not been handed down to us; but, from the appellation given him of iEsop,
[anne. though it does not
productions
were ever deemed worthy to be preserved in print. Mr. Granger observes of his rhymes, that he knew no better way to characterize them, than " by the three blue beans in a blue bladder. " The memory of Msop of Eton, and his works, have long ceased
to interest any one.
At the period in which JEsop of Eton flourished,
there were several other pretenders to the appellation of the Phrygian sage, and the name became so de graded as to be marked only with contempt. Tom Brown informs us, in one of his witty letters, that, " because ^Esop from Tunbridge had the good fortune
to please, an hundred other iEsops, from Epsom, Islington, and other parts of the kingdom, were im
mediately trumped up, till the very name ofJEsop at last grew scandalous. "
Tom Brown's Works, Vol. I, p. 24 1 .
74
MEMOIRS OF
in many a drunken rhyme,
appear that either his poetic or prosaic
BICK, ' Tlip Mimic Trumpeter. I
rA:^IE S
ANjJE. ] REMARKABLE PERSONS. 75
^ame$ ISick,
THE MIMIC TRUMPETER.
James Bick picked up a'tolerable living by fre quenting public-houses, ahd amusing the company in various tricks of Ventriloquism. He is said to have been related to John Shore Bick, Esq. serjeant*- trumpeter, but there- is no reason to suppose there was any other affinity in thefee people, than in the name. "^^James Bick particularly excelled in imi tating the trumpet, and he has beeur known toaccom-
pany-a band, -wliere that instrument was wanting, in
a manner so perfectly correct, that the finest ear COU Id "i not fed the: deficiency of the real from the counterfeit dieception. ¦ He lived and :flourished about the tatter end of ^ Queen Anne's ifeign, and w-as sucdeeded in his rflitnic art by one Clinch, of Barnet, who regulariy performed at Hicks's-hall Coffee-house, St. John's-street, Clerkenwell, of au
evening, and collected very considerable sums from his admiring auditors.
Bick's reputation, as a sham-trumpeter, was too L2
76 MEMOIRS OF [anne.
well established for Clinch to attack that instrument, and he wisely judged it best to stick to the horn, which, by incessant practice, he brought himself to excel in ; he greatly distinguished himself in mimic- ing the huntsman, pack of hounds, sham doctor, old woman, drunken man ; and the bells, the flute, double courtel, and the organ, with three voices. AH instruments were imitated by his natural voice, and he sung an Essex song, after a manner which none but himself could perform, as we are informed by the " Daily Post" of April 24, 1722. The time of Bick's death is not known, but Clinch died in
about the
year 1805, exhibited his tricks of Ventriloquism
almost every public-house throughout
polis.
December, 1734, when he had attained the age of seventy years. We have of late years witnessed the surprising powers of Ventriloquism. Askins, a man with a wooden-leg, performed
Sadler's Wells, at a
and George Romondo, a narive of Lisbon,
for a season or two at considerable weekly salary;
the metro Mathews, the Comedian, has lately set up in
this way, and his single exertions filled the theatre of the English Opera-house for a whole season, while the theatres of Drury-Lane and Covent-garden were
playing to empty benches.
in
^'M. a^x^f^cA>i
THOMAS BlilTTOK.
ANNE. ]
REMARKABLE PERSONS.
Zt^omn^ ii^ritton.
77
Thomas Britton was born about the middle of
the seventeenth century, at, or near Higham-Ferrers, r¦I
in Northamptonshire. He . served an apprenticeship to a small-coal man, in London, and set up in the same trade in Clerkenwell. He made it his business to go about the streets, with his sack on his back, crying '' Small-coal. " His daily rounds through the town made him acquainted with a variety of book stalls, from which he collected a tolerable library of books, which he bccasionally sold at a good profit to
the nobility and gentry. About the commencement of the last century, a passion prevailed among several persons of distinction, for collecring old books and MSS. , and it was their Saturday's amusement, during winter, to. ramble through various quarters of the town in pursuit of these literary treasures. The Earls of Oxford, Pembroke, Sunderland, and Win- chelsea, and the Duke of Devonshire were of this party; and Mr. Bagford, and other collectors, assisted them in their researches. Britton appears to have
'
. , -fl
I".
[anne. been employed by them ; and, as he was a very
fS MEMOIRS OF
modest, decent, and unassuming
sharer in their conversation when they met, after their morning's walk, at a bookseller's shop in Ave-
Britton used to pitch his coal-sack on a bulk at the door, and, drest in his blue-frock, step in, and spend an hour with the company. But
it was not only by a few bookish lords that his ac quaintance was cultivated ; his humble roof was fre quented by assemblies of the fair and the gay, and this small-coal man has the singular honour of having set the first example, in this country, of that elegant and rational amusement, a music;u concert. His attachment to music caused him to be known to many amateurs and performers, who formed themselves into a club at his house, where capital pieces were played by some of the first professional persons. Dr. Pepusch, and even Handel, here displayed their powers on the harpsichord, and Dubourg played his first solo on the violin. Britten's house was an old mean buildi- ing, of which the ground-floor was a repository for coals ; over this was the concert-room, long, low, and narrow, and ascended to by a pair of stairs from the outside, scarcely to be mounted without crawling ; yet some of the finest ladies of the land were seen
maria-lane.
man, he was a
ANNE. ]
REMARKABLE PERSONS. 79
to trip up them without airs or hesitation. This
commenced iu 1678, and it is affirmed that it was at first absolutely gratuitous, but, in process of time, probably after Britton had taken a
more convenient room in the next house, a sub scription was paid of ten shillings a-year each ; for
which, however, he provided musical instruments. He had also a very good collection of ancient and modern music, bv the best authors.
The singularity of Britten's mode of life, and the contrast between his station and his connections, caused a variety of opinions to prevail concerning him and his meetings. He was taken for an atheist, a Jesuit, a sectary, and a conjuror i and his concerts were thought to be meetings for seditious or magical
purposes. He was, however, a plain honest man,
of an open, ingenuous countenance, and cheerful
temper, and a sincere votary of the arts and studies
in which he engaged. His taste for chemistry he
imbibed from his neighbour, Dr. Garencieres; and
his ingenuity enabled him to contrive a moving labo
ratory, built by himself, at a small expence, with which he performed many curious experiments; of
the nature of these we are not informed, but as many
music-meeting
80
MEMOIRS OF [anne.
of the books he had picked up related to the Rosycru- cian philosophy, it is not improbable that he might waste some of his small-coal in search after the grand secret.