Life and exploits of the noted criminal, Bristol Bill

Chapter I. Vbs Heroic In Rogues Mike Martin

AND MIJNROE EDWARDS “BRISTOL BILL”

EXTENSIVE ASSOCIATION OF BURGLARS,

COUNTERFEITERS, ETC. AUTHENTICITY

or bill’s biography.

To such a complete science has professional villany of late years been reduced, so innumerable are the chances of detection, and so severe are the penalties in case of conviction, — that the man who has passed through a long career of crime, and signalized his life by daring exploits and iiair-breadtl* escapes, is now generally looked upon somewhat in the light of a hero. There were certainly heroic qualities in the composition of Michael Martin, the highway robber — and it was an extraordinary though peculiar talent that enabled Monroe Edwards, while figuring in the character of an accomplished gentleman, to plan and for a long time successfully carry out the most stupendous schemes of forgery and fraud recorded in the annals of American rascality. Had the chivalric bravery and indomitable energy of Martin been exercised in a worthier vocation, his name might have been handed dowr to fame as one of the truest of hemes, the record of his deeds unstained by anything like dishonor. And to with Edwards — what might he not have r>een ? With a faultless person, and all the accomplishments of a refined education — with a grace and urbanity which never forsooK him — and with a considerable degree of genius, and great, fertility of invention — ha might, it is not vain to say, had all hi* qualities been directed aright, have filled, with honor and credit to himself, important posts even in the councils of the nation. It is therefore, that, looking at the component parts which go to make up the most daring and successful villains of our times, persons of all classes, while they retain their antipathy to crime, still, almost involuntarily, look with admiration upon the genius of the criminal, and breathe something of sympathy for his fate.

Probably, for a few years past, no “professional” burglar or bank-robber has at times created more consternation, by his successful and astonishing enterprises, in various localities in the Northern States, than the subject of this work ; nor has any one more shrewdly and skilfully performed all the details of crime, or more successfully (until his last effort in Vermont) repelled the vigilance of the most celebrate^ police, and eluded all attempts at detection

I ft was in the month of August, 1849, that M Bristol Bill,” as he is generally called, first came personally before the public eye in the city of Boston. Matters connected with this period of his eventful career will be detailed hereafter in their proper course. Since the occasion of his appearance here last year — (supposed then, by the police* and the public, to be his first advent in Boston) — he has been the frequent theme 0/ the press, and has tilled a conspicuous position in the formidable array of known rogues. So much of exciting interest, and so much of what 'might perhaps be called romantic mystery, have been wrapped around events in the life of this notorious jonvict, that the author, availing himself of nnusual facilities in such a case, has here thrown together, in a compact form, such of the various incidents in the history of Bristol Bill, gathered from sources of undoubted correctness, as it was thought rould prove interesting, and possibly inttmetive, to a curious public.

A complete narration of everything criminal connected with the movements of this remarkable individual, would fill a most voluminous volume. He was a mem'ber, and one of the leading spirits, of the most extensive association of counterfeiters and burglars, and swindlers on a sublime scale, that was ever formed in the Western world ; an association which, centralizing itself in the chief metropolis, reached and infected, with its multifarious ramifications of crime, the business community of every city in the Union and the Canadas. But, within a few past months, one after another member this mighty gang has been detected and captured, until now it is to be supposed that this vast and formidable association of criminals is a] most entirely broken up, shorn of its strength, and none of its power left except in the futile efforts of solitary iitflividuals who have thus far escaped tha ordeal of trial and the severe sentence of the just laws of the land.

3 *1

Considering, therefore, the extensive area which would necessarily be coverad and traversed, in order to comprise in our work everything of interest connected directly or indirectly with the career of Bristol Bill in this country, we shall confine ourself strictly to such incidents, and fragments of criminal history, as are most intimately connected with the individual life of him whose biography we have undertaken briefly to compile.

Knowing the interest that is ever felt in the public mind, to learn as much as possible of the early life of any celebrated character, we have endeavored to truthfully portray the scenes of William Darlington’s early days, and describe, according to the facilities afforded, that period of his history which first saw him impelled to crime, and which so strongly marked out, for the once innocent but rash young man, a walk in life not easily to be retraced, and leading slowly but surely to the disgraceful fate of a most notorious and convicted criminal. To those who know intimately the subject of our sketch, and who, under certain fortuitous circumstances, have listened to the evidently sincere relation of incidents in his early and later history, we need scarcely say, that little of fiction will he found in this memoir, and also that many of the most thrilling scenes in Darlington’s life must necessarily be imperfectly described. We know of but one gentleman coming from the land of Darlington's nativity, who has ever been enabled to afford the slightest information concerning the early career of our hero ; and such facts as we have gleaned at times from him most strictly correspond with the many fragments of a confessional nature made by Bristol Bill himself. It is therefore that we feel warranted in putting before the world a publication of what we consider a genuine history of the most celebrated burglar and bank robbei modern times.

OF BRISTOL BILL.

Chapter II. The Early Life Of Bristol Bill His

CHARACTER — HE IS SENT TO ETON

HE FROLICS MORE THAN HE STUDIES

HE SEDUCES A GIRL WHOM HE LOVES

RUPTURE WITH HIS PARENTS — BILL AND MARY ELOPE TO LONDON.

William Darlington is an Englishman by birth, and was born about the year 1802, in the town of Bristol. His parents were of an old and very respectable family, and it is said, on good authority, that the father of our hero was at one time a member of the English parliament. The surname of the subject of our sketch we are not at liberty to give ; for it has of late been not an unfrequently expressed hope that he should once more visit the scene of his childhood, and lo^k upon .he faces of the remaining member 3 of his family, who, as he confidently trusts, have ever been ignorant of his «~i.;ked career. Suffice it to say, that he was christened with the name of William Trevor — that he was a second son, and, had he oarsued a steadier course when young, the careful pains and liberal wealth of his parents would have fitted him for a most honorable position in life. But Wiliam was a wild and reckless fellow — a dare-devil sort of a boy, who had much rather go on a fox-hunt than attend to the studies of school. His father, however, was strict, and by dint of perpetual vigilance succeeded in forcing into Bill’s head, despite his love of frolic, a sufficient variety of learning to enable him to enter Eton College. But the watchfulness%of proctors and the reprimands of professors proved no bar to the careless behavior of the headstrong youth. His studies were neglected ; and it was not an unusual occurrence for Bill, with the money that was freely allowed him, to suddenly start on a trip to London, there to see the sights in the great metropolis, and when his money was nearly gone and his frolic over, to return extremely repentant to his fathers houae Severe reproof and a fresh supply of money would follow the meeting, and Bill would soon be on his way back to Eton — there to study closely for a few days, and then agai» yeild to his burning thirst for freedom and adventure. .

There was one being, who, perhaps more than any other, at this time caused the life of William Darlington to be turned ‘ from its natural channel, and to ever after teem with all that was reckless and criminal. Mary Livingston was the daughter of a poor curate; and, possessed of unusual amiability and sweetness of temper, together with h well cultivated mind, had early attracted the attention of Darlington’s parents. It was therefore, that when Mary, at the age of sixteen, was suddenly left an orb pan, she accepted with a grateful heart the kind offer made by them, that she should become an Inmate of their comfortable abode, anc. assist in the instruction of two or three of the younger members of the family. Mary Livingston has -been described, by one whom we need not name, as a girl of surpassing loveliness — and her mind was as free from taint, and her heart as innocent and childlike, as her form was graceful and her face angelic. William, from the day that she first made his father’s house her home, became exceedingly attached to her; and although Mary might not have been altogether pleased with the sometimes boyish rudeness and mad tricks of her yonng lover, she could not refrain from admiring his generous disposition and his frankness of expression and manner — the latter characteristic perhaps as remarkable in his younger days, as have been his shrewdness, cunning, and duplicity, in later years. There was something, it may be, of roman tic love, in Bill’s composition, that led hirn occasionally to forsake the classic retreats of Eton, and start, in defiance of all parental orders and collegiate rules, for home and the arms of his adored Mary.

A year oi two thus passed on — Bill often playing the truant — disappearing for days together on some mysterious frolic, or roving into neighboring villages, prying into the shops of mechanics, making the acquaintance of artizuns, and gratifying his inordinate curiosity in every way possible. Often would he be found, with his jacket off, exercising his ingenuity and invention in the workshop of some mechanic, tinkering away at the broken fragments of some old machine, whistling, and cracking his jokes with the workmen, who seemed to think him quite a smart and clever young man — “ considerin’ he was one of those ’ere Eton boys.” But a most unfortunate epoch in the life of more than one individual was destined at this time to be reached. On the occasion of a somewhat lengthy visit at home, enjoying the society of his Mary, and listening impatiently to the eludings of his father, an unholy passion seized on the heart of the rash and unthinking youth, and in a moment of impetuous love and tearful frenzy, the pleading ttice and earnest expostulations of the fair being he adored were hushed, and her ruin was accomplished. Calm reflection brought dismay and confusion to the hearts of both, and the unfortunate Mary poured a flood of tears on the bosom of her . unwise lover. .But William kissed the pale brow of the weeping girl, and swore eternal fidelity to her, no matter what else betide.

Months flew rapidly by. The impassioned missives of mutual love passed frequently to and fro, when Darlington was suddenly summoned to calm reflection, by the tearstained letter of Mary, announcing, in deli- -cate and affecting terms, that the time was /ast drawing near when the result of their passionate love must bring exposure, -and she with disgrace be thrown an outcast into the cold unfeeling world. It was then that the young man, at this time twenty years of age, first began to truly realize his follies and position, and to earnestly feel the remorse he could not but have, at sb ■ mding in unhappiness and dishonor the heart of hi* idolized Mary. He waited not to bid adieu to his gay comrades at Eton, but hurried homeward with all speed, reaching the man sion of his father with more of the sad and serious pictured in his countenance than he was ever before known to exhibit. The plea of sickness was given, and then he flew to the side of Mary, to be received with tears of welcome, and to offer anew his vows of love and constancy. .Days passed, and each succeeding sun but gave deeper warning of the terrible denouement that must inevitably soon take place. Loss of home and utter ruin stared young Darlington in the face ; and poor Mary, how was she to bear up under the pitiless storm of disgrace ! But William could only whisper vain consolation in her ear, and faintly express the hope that a kind father would look gently on the erring pair, that the neighboring curate would be permitted to rivet forever their bonds of love, and' that all would yet be wrell.

But bitter disappointment was destined to attend the unhappy lovers. Appearances in such a case are not deceitful; — the almost constant communion of William with Mary — the pale face and dejected air of the sorrowing girl — the altered countenance and manner of the formerly gay and reckless boy — all, in the eyes of watchful parents, denoted something extraordinary; — and, with the almost .unconscious curiosity thus excited, it was impossible that the true state of affairs could long remain concealed.

The exposure came — the father was even brutal in his maniacal rage, and he struck his son to the earth ; while the mother retired to the solitude of her chamber, to dwell in tears and prayer on the mournful evidence of the wickedness which had caused her beloved adopted daughter to fall from the high estate of virtue, through the evil persuasion and mad passion of her own b id son. The father was wild in his denudation of William’s conduct, and bade

Mary to leave his threshold forever. The son strove in vain to avert the impending doom — bu> all his pleas were in vain ; he was threatened with being cast into the world upon his own resources — with utter banishment from home, and all hope of parental aid and mercy.

The determination o^ the reckless but now stern young man was sudden and irresistible. Not for a moment would he harbor a thought of separation Irom the idol of his heart — if she was to suffer the ban of disgrace and poverty, he would also share the same fate, and stand by her side a protector, if not a husband.

The coach for London passed early in the morn. The clothes and effects of the unhappy twain were secretly packed, and they were ready for departure. The parents were tossing in uneasy slumber, when at the noon of night, the adventurous Darlington quietly glided from his chamber, and entered the dressing-room of his father. The escrito re was open, and money was exposed to view. Hastily grasping such as met his eye, amounting to some seventy pounds sterling, he extinguished the taper he had borne with him, and noiselessly left the apartment. Proceeding to the room occupied by Mary, he called her softly by name ; no sleep had closed her eyelids, and she instant y sprang to her feet. Darlington informed her of his operations, and they instantly prepared to leave the mansion which had been the scene of so many happy hours, but was now the abiding place of (sorrow' and disgrace.

The next day saw them in London. Taking lodgings in the outskirts of that vast city, almost a world in itself, they enjoyed for a season all the delights that continual intercourse and the uninterrupted society of each other could produce. But Bill’s finances w ere not inexhaustible, and they gradually dwindled away. Jewelry and trinkets slowly disappeared in the dark recesses or be pawnbroker’s closets, and the time had arrived when Bill music*®. Jxml him to find some means of livelihood. Sinco his last arrival in London, he had studiously avoided the public houses and places to wnich he had been accustomed to resort w hile on his frolicsome visits during his collegiate course at Eton, and he had, as he supposed, eluded all the vigilance and inquiries of his father and his friends. Too proud to resume an acquaintance with persons who had previously known him, or to solicit employment from any one who could trace his identity, he roamed, for many a weary day, the crowded streets, searching in vain for some humble situation which it w7as possible for him to fill He had been too negligent a scholar to now make a clerk or an accountant, and he w&a altogether unfitted for anything in a professional sphere. Stark poverty stared him unblushingly in the face; — there was poor Mary at their now miserable lodgings, wait ing through many a tedious hour for William’s return with words of encouragement; — and it finally came to pass, that the still loving but wretched girl, rocking her inno^ cent babe to and fro, waited, not merely for the kind words and wTarm kisses of the unfortunate Darlington, but with pallid face and streaming eyes looked for his presence;, trusting for even the scanty food that must keep alive her famishing child. The selfish and cold-hearted landlord had too long harrassed his tenants to now exhibit tlie least feeling or mercy towards those whose means of paying a paltry rent had vanished. Weary and haggard, came home at night the young man who had been reared in luxury, but now panting beneath the load of poverty and misfortune. No thought erf crime had ever tainted the generous, honest impulses of his heart — all that he now sought for was, to feed the hungry mouths of those who hung dependant on his feebte arm.

Chapter III

1 WIGHT IN LONDON— THE HOME OF PO- VERTY— MART LIVINGSTON — WILLIAM DARLINGTON AND HIS FIRST CRIME.

It was a dreary eve in November — the first dusky shade of night was settling over London city. In a barren room, containing hardly the necessary comforts of sleep or existence, in one of the most poverty-stricken lanes of the great metropolis — sat by the cold fireside, while the chill wind whistled in pitying tones through the broken casement, a woman, whose raven curls had never waved in the sun of more than twenty summers — but her dark eye and blanched cheek too plainly told the tale of sorrow that had prematurely bent her once agile and graceful form, dimmed the bright lustre of her eyes, and changed the roseate hues of innocent youth to the snowy whiteness of long distress and a despairing heart. Her shivering arms were scarcely hid by the miserable remnant of a threadbare shawl, which she fondly wrapped around the emaciated form of a babe whose pretty lineaments spoke truly of its parentage. Oh, what were the thoughts of Mary Livingston, as with straining ear she listened to the creak of every door in that ruinous but populous abode — as the damp night breeze .came fitfully sighing through the broken panes, but brought no echoes of William’s footsteps ! He had been gone since day-break, and not a morsel of food had found its way to her parched lips.

Bu the heavy tread of a man, laden with nothing but despair, is heard— and William Darlington, with glaring eyes and wild dishevelled locks, slowly and silently enters the wretched apartment’, and seats himself moodily in the only vacant chair.

“Dear William!” said the weeping partner of his guilt and sorrow — but the flood of tears drowned all other words.

Darlington’s flashing eye was moistened with a tear, but he made no utterance save a groan that seemed to well forth from his inmost heart. Striking his hand violently upon his forehead, he rose, and rushed from the abode of misery. Whither hia step9 tended he knew not — he only felt the hor rible truth gnawing at his heart, that Mary — ye», the once fair and virtuous Mary Livingston — with* her innocent babe— was starving f Oh, what madness seized hia soul— he strided the crowded streets like a maniac, his blood-shot eyes glaring wildly on the thousand faces that seemed not to notice him as he passed. There were youth and beauty, wealth and fashion, all around him — there were the shops whose illumina ted windows teemed with all the luxuries of life — and, more than all, piled in huge heaps, on the counter of a sleek and cold eyed baker — there was bread ! Darlington gazed for a moment — he stepped within the door ; the proprietor was busy in attendance on women and children — almost unconscious of the act, the desperate man grasped a loaf of soft, sweet bread — such a prize ! that he clutched it with both hands until his attenuated fingers met in the centre — and glided into the street, and hurried, nay, ran with fleet steps, homeward. But the throng was great — from whence came "all those people, with their well-fi'led baskets and joyous faces 1 From the ovei -stocked market house. The lamp? gleamed luridly on the scene — the great quarters of fresh beef looked so rich and red ! the bacon hung like clusters of fruit in the windows and from the ceiling ! the white carcasses of lambs lay so invitingly to view ! all was luxuriance and profusion. What a sight for farnishdd eyes ! What wonder, then, that poor Bill paused — gazed first on the contented crowd, and then at the ample resources of the market-house ! Oh, that he had but one silver shilling — one of those that he had a thousand times thrown 'urlessly away to lauging, playing boys by the wayside! But his pocKets were empty, and Mary was starving ! He had %

OF BRISTOL BILL.

II loaf of tread, to be sure — but how his eyes glutted on those delicious haras that lay almost within his grasp ! The door-way was jammed with the entering and departing crowd — all was business and bustle — no one would notice him — and the wretched "Darlington completed the second chapter in his caredrof crime — if crime, indeed, it may be called.

Mary sprang to her feet alarmed, as the door was suddenly burst open, and William threw his ill-gotten booty to the floor. She questioned him in vain, and for a long time he sat, with his face buried in his hands, seemingly unconscious of everything.

“ Ask me no questions,” he finally murmured— “ there is food — iet us be content. To-morrow 1 will have employment, and all will be well. Keep up a courageous heart, Mary, and we will yet be happy.”

The downcast woman was cheered by these words of encouragement, and after imprinting a kiss on the gloomy brow of Darlingtor.. she sat about preparing what was to them a most luxurious meal. Bill gradually recovered from his desponderfcy, and midnight lowered its dark curtain over the peaceful slumbers of the father and mother, as they hugged to their bosoms the little victim of their first dereliction.

Chapter IV. Bill Finds Work Becomes A Locksmith

HIS INGENUITY — HE FRUSTRATES A ROB- BERY f REARING UP OF THE EMPLOY- ER'S ESTABLISHMENT SINGULAR DEVEL-

OPMENTS.

In the course of the next day, Darlington, while on his weary ramble for work, looked into the shop of a locksmith, who appeared to be doing quite an extensive business, occupying a tolerably large building, and employing a considerable number of workmen. Bill had ever ev need a mechanical genius, and his memory instantly reverted to the vicinity of Eton, where he had spent so many hours in the company of artificers, and had himself exercised a little of his skill and ingenuity. He gazed on the contented faces of the toilers, as they plied their busy hands, amid the hum of machinery, and asked himself the question, “Why can I not work, and be as happy as they?” Gathering courage, he stepped into the counting room; and abruptly asked the proprietor if he could give him employment. “ What can you do — are you a journeyman ?” was the reply. Bill explained that he had never learned the trade of a mechanic, but he thought himself able to perform some of the more simple kinds of work in the locksmith’s shop — all he wanted, was employment and a livelihood — he was poor, he said, and his wife and child were suffering. His story seemed to touch the sympathies of Mr Burns, the proprietor, and he at once introduced Bill to the overseer of the shop, who immediately set him at work, rasp in hand, on some small bars of steel.

Bill went home that night with a lighter heart than he had before felt for many 9 long day.

It was not long before he had acquired a. wonderful proficiency in his business, and he was employed on some of the most difficult specimens of workmanship His wages were increased, and he bore home, every Saturday, his weekly stipend, with a glad face and a contented heart. Mary met him with happy smiles; their desolate lodgings began to assume a more comfortable appearance; and a fair future seemed to be dawning upon them. It was about this time, that, in consequence of numerous bur glaries, all the inventive genius of the most expert locksmiths was put in requisition for the manufacture of some kind of a lock that would resist the instrume nts and skeleton keys of skilful buiglars. Mr Burns in* mediately availed himself of the service* o*

Darlington — offering him quite a prize if he would invent and complete such a lock as was desired. Bill thought it might be easily done, and began to study and tinker accordingly. In a few weeks, he presented to Mr Burns a very plain and ordinary lock, so far as regarded appearance, coupled with the remark that he didn’t believe anyone could pick that. The work was thoroughly examined, and submitted to the inspectipn of a large number of persons competent to pronounce a correct judgment upon it. The result was favorable — Bill was highly complimented .and well rewarded — while the new lock was put into the market and the proprietor reaped an abundant harvest.

A short time after this, an event occurred which signally changed the current of Bill’s life from the even tenor of its way, and once more threw him upon the world without employment or any means of obtaining an honest living.

The overseer of Burns’s establishment was > named Rockham — an excellent mechanic, but rather morose and sullen in his manner, and seldom speaking to persons around hnn but on business topics; there was a sinister expression in his countenance, and a repulsiveness of look, that Bill did not fancy, and he therefore kept aloof from his overseer as much as possible. One evening, when the work hours were over, and most of the journeymen had retired, Bill had been delayed somewhat, on a job in a remote corner of the building, and had stepped into a closet that was built under a flight of stairs proceeding to the rooms above. While there, he heard the voice of Rockham. who had come into the apartment in which Bill had been engaged, calling to some one who was at the time passing down the stairs.

“Isay, Jarvis, come here!” said the overseer, in rather more pleasant tones than Bill had been accustomed to hear him use. His curiosity being a little excited, Darling- Urn remained quietly in his position, little suspecting the astonishing information 64 was about to glean. „

Jarvis, one of the workmen, a large, thick set man, approached Rockham, and inquired, in low tones — “Well, captain, are all things right ?”

“ Yes, I’ve got the key to old Burns’s chest — Mark has been at work on it all day. I tell you what it is; Jarvis, we’ll

bleed the oid covey tonight. D -n him^

he has had more swag than he’s a right to!”

Jarvis seemed highly pleased at the remarks of Rockham, and rubbed his hands in great joy. “ But won’t he suspect us?’ he suddenly inquired.

“ Well, let him !” said Rockham — “if he dares to make a stir about it, I’ll blow on him — when I go to Newgate, he follows.”

“That’s right,” said Jarvis.

Rockham continued — “ Be sure and meet me at the King’s Arms tonight, at eleven o’clock. We’ll have a pot of ’alf and ’alC and then come down and do the job.”

"Other conversation took place all of which tended to convince Bill that the overseer and several of the workmen were members of an extensive gang of burglars — their em ployment in the shop disarming all suspicion, and enabling them to make duolicate keys to the doors and safes of many of the wealthiest bankers in London. The allusion to Mr. Burns was no further understood by Bill, than that it was their intention to enter his counting-room at night, and rob the chest or safe, wThich probably contained a large amount of money.