her suspicions, was now examined. From her evidence, it appeared
that Clark was an intimate acquaintance of Aram’s before the 8th of
February, 1744-5, and they had had frequent transactions together,
and with Houseman also. About two o’clock in the morning of the 8th
of February, 1744-5, Aram, Clark, and Houseman came to Aram’s house
and went up stairs, where they remained about an hour. They then went
out together, and Clark being the last, she observed that he had a
sack or wallet on his back. About four, Aram and Houseman returned,
but without their companion. “Where is Clark?” she inquired; but her
husband only returned an angry look in reply, and desired her to go to
bed, which she refused, and told him, “she feared he had been doing
something wrong.” Aram then went down stairs with the candle, and she
being desirous to know what they were doing, followed them, and from
the top of the stairs heard Houseman say, “She’s coming; if she does,
she’ll tell.” “What can she tell, poor simple thing?” replied Aram;
“she knows nothing. I’ll hold the door to prevent her coming.” “It’s of
no use, something must be done,” returned Houseman; “if she don’t split
now, she will some other time.” “No, no, foolish,” her husband said;
“we’ll coax her a little till her passion is off, and then”--“What!”
said Houseman sullenly.--“Shoot her,” whispered Aram, “shoot her!” Mrs.
Aram, hearing this discourse, became very much alarmed, but remained
quiet. At seven o’clock the same morning they both left the house,
and she, immediately their backs were turned, went down stairs, and
observed that there had been a fire below, and all the ashes taken
out of the grate. She then examined the dunghill, and perceived ashes
of a different kind lying upon it, and searching amongst them, found
several pieces of linen and woollen cloth very nearly burnt, which had
the appearance of wearing apparel. When she returned into the house,
she found a handkerchief that she had lent to Houseman the night
before, and a round spot of blood upon it about the size of a shilling.
Houseman came back soon afterwards, and she charged him with having
done some dreadful thing to Clark; but he pretended total ignorance,
and added, “she was a fool, and knew not what she said.” From these
circumstances, she fully and conscientiously believed that Daniel Clark
was murdered by Houseman and Eugene Aram, on the 8th of February,
1744-5.
Several other witnesses were examined, all affirming that Houseman and
Eugene Aram were the last persons seen with Clark, especially on the
night of the 7th of February, being that after which he was missing.
Upon hearing these testimonies, Houseman, who was present, was observed
to become very restless, discovering all the signs of guilt, such as
trembling, turning pale, and faltering in his speech. Few men guilty
of the crime of murder have the strength of heart and self-command to
conceal it: by some circumstance or other, the truth will out; a look,
a dream, and not unfrequently, as in this case, their own unfaithful
tongue, is the involuntary agent that brings at last the blackened
culprit to that punishment which unerringly awaits the man that sheds
his brother’s blood. Accordingly, upon the skeleton being produced,
Houseman, taking up one of the bones, dropped this most unguarded
expression: “This is no more Daniel Clark’s bone than it is mine.”
“What?” remarked the coroner instantly--“what?--how is this? How can
you be so sure that that is not Daniel Clark’s bone?” “Because I can
produce a witness,” replied Houseman, in evident confusion--“because
I can produce a witness, who saw Daniel Clark upon the road two days
after he was missing at Knaresborough.” This witness was instantly
summoned, and stated that he had never seen Clark after the 8th of
February; a friend, however, had told him (and this only had he
mentioned at first) that he met some one very like Clark; but, it being
a snowy day, and the person having the cape of his great coat up, he
could not say with the least degree of certainty who he was. This
explanation, so far from proving satisfactory, increased the suspicion
against Houseman; and accordingly a warrant was issued against him,
and he was apprehended and brought before William Thornton, Esq., who,
examining him, elicited a full acknowledgment of the fact of his having
been with Clark on the night in question, on account of some money
(twenty pounds) that he had lent him, and which he wanted at the time
very pressingly. He further stated, that Clark begged him to accept the
value in goods, to which proposition he assented, and was necessarily,
therefore, several times to and fro between Clark’s house and his
own, in order to remove the goods from one to the other. When he had
finished, he left Clark at Aram’s house, with another man, whom he had
never seen before. Aram and Clark, immediately afterwards, followed him
out of the house of the former, and the stranger was with them. They
then went in the direction of the market-place, which the light of the
moon enabled him to see, and he lost sight of them. He disavowed most
solemnly that he came back to Aram’s house that morning with Aram and
Clark, as was asserted by Mrs. Aram; nor was he with Aram, but with
Clark, at the house of the former on that night, whither he only went
to see Clark in order to obtain from him the note.
Being then asked if he would sign this examination, he said he would
rather waive it for the present, for he might have something to add,
and therefore desired to have time to consider of it. The magistrate
then committed him to York castle, when, expressing a wish to explain
more fully, he was again brought before Mr. Thornton, and in his
presence made the following confession:--That Daniel Clark was murdered
by Eugene Aram, late of Knaresborough, a schoolmaster, and, as he
believed, on Friday the 8th of February, 1744-5; for that Eugene Aram
and Daniel Clark were together at Aram’s house early that morning,
and that he (Houseman) left the house and went up the street a little
before, and they called to him, desiring he would go a short way with
them; and he accordingly went with them to a place called St. Robert’s
cave, near Grimble bridge, where the two former stopped, and there he
saw Aram strike Clark several times over the breast and head, and saw
him fall as if he were dead; upon which he came away and left them; but
whether Aram used any weapon or not to kill Clark, he could not tell,
nor did he know what he did with the body afterwards, but believed that
Aram left it at the mouth of the cave; for that, seeing Aram do this,
lest he might share the same fate, he made the best of his way to the
bridge-end, where, looking back, he saw Aram coming from the cave-side,
(which is in a private rock adjoining the river,) and could discern a
bundle in his hand, but did not know what it was: upon this he hastened
away to the town, without either joining Aram or seeing him again till
the next day, and from that time he had never had discourse with him.
He stated, however, afterwards, that Clark’s body was buried in St.
Robert’s cave, and that he was sure it was there, but desired it might
remain till such time as Aram was taken. He added further, that Clark’s
head lay to the right, in the turn at the entrance of the cave.
Proper persons were instantly appointed to examine St. Robert’s cave,
when, agreeably to Houseman’s confession, the skeleton of a human
body (the head lying as he had described) was found. A warrant was
instantly issued to apprehend Eugene Aram, who was discovered to be
living at Lynn in the capacity of usher at a school. He confessed
before the magistrate that he was well acquainted with Clark, and,
to the best of his remembrance, about or before the 8th of February,
1744-5, but utterly denied any participation in the frauds which Clark
stood charged with at the time of his disappearance. He also declared
that he knew nothing of the murder, and that the statements made by
his wife were without exception false: he, however, declined to sign
his examination, on the same plea preferred by Houseman, that he might
recollect himself better, and lest any thing should be omitted which
might afterwards occur to him. On being conducted to the castle, he
desired to return, and acknowledged that he was at his own house when
Houseman and Clark came to him with some plate, of which Clark had
defrauded his neighbors. He could not but observe that the former was
very diligent in assisting; in fact, it was altogether Houseman’s
business; and there was no truth whatever in the statement that he came
there to sign a note or instrument. All the leather which Clark had
possessed himself of, amounting to a considerable value, was concealed
under flax at Houseman’s house, with the intention of disposing of it
little by little, to prevent any suspicion of his being concerned in
the robbery. The plate was beaten flat in St. Robert’s cave. At four
o’clock in the morning, they, thinking that it was too late to enable
Clark to leave with safety, agreed that he should stay there till the
next night, and he accordingly remained there all the following day. In
order, then, the better to effect his escape, they both went down to
the cave, Houseman only entering, while he watched without, lest any
person should surprise them. On a sudden he heard a noise, and Houseman
appeared at the mouth of the cave, and told him that Clark was gone. He
had a bag with him, containing plate, which he said he had purchased of
Clark, money being much more portable than such cumbersome articles.
They then went to Houseman’s house, and concealed the property there,
he fully believing that Clark had escaped. He never heard any thing
of Clark subsequently, and was as much surprised to hear there was a
suspicion of his being murdered, as that he (Eugene Aram) should be
considered to be the murderer. Notwithstanding this surprise, however,
his examination having been signed, he was committed with his companion
to York castle, there to await the assizes.
On the third of August, 1759, they were both brought to the bar.
Houseman was arraigned on the former indictment, acquitted, and
admitted evidence against Aram, who was thereupon arraigned. Houseman
was then called, and deposed to the same effect as that which has
already appeared in his own confession. Several witnesses were called,
who gave evidence as to finding several kinds of goods buried in Aram’s
garden, Aram’s knowledge of the fact of Clark’s possessing two hundred
pounds, and to show that they both had been seen together on the
evening of the 7th of February. After which the skull was produced in
court; on the left side there was a fracture, from the nature of which
it was impossible to have been done but by the stroke of some blunt
instrument. The skull was beaten inwards, and could not be replaced but
from within. The surgeon gave it as his opinion, that no such breach
could proceed from natural decay; that it was not a recent fracture
made by the spade or axe by which it might have been dug up; but seemed
to be of some years’ standing.
Eugene Aram’s defence, which he read, was marked with an undoubted
manifestation of very considerable powers. It was learned and
argumentative; and in some passages, glowing and eloquent. He attempted
to show, that no rational inference can be drawn that a person is
dead who suddenly disappears;--that hermitages such as St. Robert’s
cave were the constant repositories of the bones of the recluse;
that the proofs of this were well authenticated; and, that therefore
the conclusion that the bones found were those of some one killed
in battle, or of some ascetic, remained no less reasonably than
impatiently expected by him. A verdict of guilty was however returned,
and he was condemned to be hanged accordingly.
On the morning after his condemnation, he confessed the justice of his
sentence to the two gentlemen who attended him, and acknowledged that
he had murdered Clark. He told them, also, that he suspected Clark of
having an unlawful commerce with his wife; and that at the time of the
murder he felt persuaded he was acting right, but since, he had thought
otherwise.[4]
It was generally believed, as he promised to make a more ample
confession on the day he was executed of every thing prior to the
murder, that the whole would have been disclosed; but he put an end
to any farther discovery, by an attempt upon his own life. When he
was called from his bed to have his chains taken off, he refused,
alleging that he was very weak. On moving him, it was found that he had
inflicted a severe wound upon his arm, from which the blood was flowing
copiously. He had concealed a razor in the condemned hold some time
before. By proper and prompt applications he was brought to himself,
and though weak from loss of blood, conducted to Tyburn in York, where,
being asked if he had any thing to say, he answered, “No.” He was then
executed, and his body conveyed to Knaresborough Forest, and hung in
chains, pursuant to his sentence.
That Eugene Aram murdered Clark is beyond all question, since we have
his confession; that he committed the murder actuated by the cause he
alleges, is open to great suspicion. The strange solicitude which all
men, even the most vicious, manifest to leave behind a memory mingled
with some little good, prompted him, doubtless, to give his crime the
ennobling, or, at least, mitigatory motive to which he attributes it.
Whether the perpetration of a murder can be justified, even urged by
the wrong Aram states himself to have suspected, may be left to the
consideration of the casuist; but whether the dreadful act can be
extenuated by as deliberate and foul attack on the virtue and character
of an innocent and industrious woman, whom he upon all occasions
treated with infamous barbarity, is a question we can confidently leave
to the judgment and moral sense of every man. That Eugene Aram was
leagued with Clark and Houseman in their fraud at Knaresborough, there
can be little doubt; that he plundered his unhappy victim after he had
murdered him, there can be less; that no sense of domestic injury would
urge a man to rob another who had wronged him after he had slain him,
needs only to be mentioned to be admitted; and therefore, believing
conscientiously from these facts that the charge against his wife was
not maintainable, a double indignation is entailed upon the wretch who
could add to the measure of his crime this gratuitous calumny.
Notwithstanding these facts and the inferences that every attentive
reader must inevitably draw from them, Eugene Aram has been deemed a
fit hero for a popular novel; and the execration with which he should
have been consigned to posterity has been attempted to be converted
into a sentimental commiseration for a gentle student who beats out his
friend’s brains on philosophical principles, and converts his property
to his own use purely with a view to the interests of science and the
intellectual progression of the world at large.
FOOTNOTES:
[4] It is generally believed, and upon good grounds, we imagine,
that Aram possessed himself of all the money Clark had received for
his wife’s dower, (about one hundred and sixty pounds,) and there
were strong circumstances to substantiate it; but it was thought
unnecessary, sufficient proof having been adduced without it.
GEORGE BARRINGTON.
George Barrington, whose crimes have justly astonished his
contemporaries, was originally a native and inhabitant of Ireland;
and, as it will appear in the sequel that the name of Barrington was
assumed, let it suffice to remark that his father’s name was Henry
Waldron, and that he was a working silversmith; while his mother, whose
maiden name was Naish, was a mantuamaker, and occasionally a midwife.
Our adventurer was born about the year 1755, at the village of
Maynooth, in the county of Kildare. His parents, who bore a good
character for their industry, integrity, and general good behavior,
were, however, never able to rise to a state of independence, or
security from indigence, owing to their engagement in a lawsuit with
a more powerful and opulent relative, in order to the recovery of
a legacy, to which they conceived they had a legal right. To the
narrowness of their circumstances the neglect of their son’s education
is imputed; and, therefore, they were incapable of improving, or of
giving a proper bias to those early indications of natural abilities,
and a superiority of talents, which must inevitably have unfolded
themselves even in the dawn of young Barrington’s existence. He was,
notwithstanding these obstacles, instructed in reading and writing
at an early age at their expense; and afterwards, through the bounty
of a medical gentleman in the neighborhood, he was initiated in the
principles of common arithmetic, the elements of geography, and the
outlines of English grammar.
This ill-fated youth, however, enjoyed but for a short time the
benefits he derived from the kindness of his first patron, a dignitary
of the church in Ireland; for the violence of his passions, which
equalled at least the extent of his talents, precipitated him into
an action by which he lost his favor forever, and which, in its
consequences, finally proved his ruin. When he had been about half a
year at the grammar-school in Dublin, to which he had been sent by his
patron, he unluckily got into a dispute with a lad, much older, larger,
and stronger than himself; the dispute degenerated into a quarrel, and
some blows ensued, in which young Waldron suffered considerably; but in
order to be revenged, he stabbed his antagonist with a penknife; and
had he not been seasonably prevented, would have in all probability
murdered him. The wounds which he gave did not prove so dangerous as
to render the several circumstances of the quarrel which occasioned
them a subject of legal investigation. The discipline of the house,
(flogging,) however, was inflicted with proper severity on the
perpetrator of so atrocious an offence, which irritated the unrelenting
and vindictive temper of the young man to such a degree that he
determined at once to run away from school, from his family, and from
his friends; thus abandoning the fair prospects that he had before him,
and blasting all the hopes that had been fondly, though vainly, formed
of the great things that might be effected by his genius when matured
by time and improved by study.
His plan of escape was no sooner formed than it was carried into
execution; but previously to his departure he found means to steal ten
or twelve guineas from the master of the school, and a gold repeating
watch from Mrs. Goldsborough, the master’s sister. With this booty, a
few shirts, and two or three pair of stockings, he silently but safely
effected his retreat from the school-house, in the middle of a still
night in the month of May, 1771; and pursuing the great northern road
all that night, and all the next day, he late in the evening arrived at
the town of Drogheda, without interruption, without accident, and in a
great measure without halting, without rest, and without food.
The first place of safety at which young Waldron thought proper to
halt, was at an obscure inn in Drogheda, where a company of strolling
players happening to be at the time, it was the occasion of a new
series of acquaintance, which, though formed on precipitation and on
the spur of the occasion, was retained from choice and affection for a
number of years.
One John Price, the manager of the strolling company, became quickly
the confidant, and from the confidant the sole counsellor of the
young fugitive Waldron, who, influenced by the ardor, the natural and
unguarded ingenuousness of a youthful mind, communicated to this new
friend, without reserve, all the circumstances of his life and story.
By his advice this unhappy youth renounced his paternal name, assumed
that of Barrington, entered into the company, and in the course of four
days became so absolutely and formally a strolling son of Thespis,
that he performed the part of Jaffier in “Venice Preserved,” with some
applause, to a crowded audience, in a barn in the suburbs of Drogheda;
and this without the assistance of a prompter.
Though the reception he met with on his debut was very flattering
to a mind like his, Price, as well as himself, thought it would not
be proper for him to appear in public so near the scene of his late
depredations in the capital. It was, therefore, resolved on by them
that the whole company should without delay move to the northward,
and, if possible, get to the distance of sixty or eighty miles from
Dublin before they halted for any length of time. In order to enable
so numerous a body to move with all their baggage, it was necessary to
raise money; and in doing this, Barrington’s assistance being the first
thing that offered, was indispensably necessary. He was accordingly
applied to, and acquiesced with a good grace, giving Price Mrs.
Goldsborough’s gold repeater, which was disposed of for the general
benefit of the strollers.
As soon as the necessary funds were procured, all these children
of Thespis set out for Londonderry, which was the place at which
they first designed to play. Travelling but slowly, they were a
considerable time on their journey; and during the course of it,
the penetrating eyes of the experienced actresses discovered that
Barrington had made a tender impression on the heart of Miss Egerton,
the young lady who played the part of Belvidera when he acted that of
Jaffier at Drogheda. This poor girl was the daughter of an opulent
tradesman at Coventry. She was young and beautiful, sweet-tempered and
accomplished, but now friendless; and though, like the rest, inured
to misfortune, she was destitute of the experience which is generally
acquired during a series of sinister and untoward events. At the age of
sixteen she was seduced by a lieutenant of marines, with whom she fled
from her father’s house to Dublin, where in less than three months he
abandoned her, leaving her a prey to poverty, infamy, and desperation.
Having been thus deceived in the simplicity of innocence by the cunning
and falsehood of one of the vilest and most profligate of human
beings, she had no other resource from the most extreme want than
closing with Price, who proposed to her to join his company; which,
situated as she was, she readily agreed to do, and had been with him
but a very short time when she saw Barrington, of whom, being of a
warm constitution, she became rather suddenly enamored. But to the
credit of our adventurer, although his affection was as ardent as her
own, it was not of that brutal and profligate cast that so frequently
disgraces the devious paths of youthful imprudence and indiscretion. On
the part of Miss Egerton, the symptoms of her affection for him were
so obvious, that, inexperienced as he then was in matters of gallantry
and intrigue, he not only perceived her passion but was sensible of her
merit, and returned her love with perfect sincerity.
It was not long before Price, urged a second time by want of money,
found it expedient to insinuate to the unfortunate Barrington, that a
young man of his address and appearance might very easily find means
to introduce himself into some of the public places to which the
merchants and chapmen of that commercial city generally resorted; and
that he there might, without any great difficulty, find opportunities
of picking their pockets unnoticed, and of escaping undetected, more
especially at that particular time, when, the fair being held, a
favorable juncture afforded itself of executing a plan of such a nature
with safety and facility. The idea pleased our needy adventurer, and
the plan formed on it was carried into execution by him and his trusty
confidant John Price, the very next day, with great success; at least
such it appeared to them at that time, their acquisitions having
amounted, on the close of the evening, to about forty guineas in cash,
and above one hundred and fifty pounds, Irish currency, in bank-notes;
which, however, they artfully determined not, on any account, to
circulate in the part of the kingdom in which they were obtained. This
precaution became peculiarly necessary; for several gentlemen having
been robbed, the town took the alarm, which was the greater, or at
least made the more noise, from the rarity of such events in that part
of the kingdom, where the picking of pockets is said to be very little
practised or known. But whatever the alarm was, or whatever noise it
made, neither Barrington nor his accomplice was suspected. They however
resolved to leave Derry as soon as they could with any appearance of
propriety depart from thence: so that, having played a few nights as
usual, with more applause than profit, they and their associates of the
sock and buskin removed from Londonderry to Ballyshannon, in the county
of Donegal, and never more returned into that part of the kingdom,
where George Barrington may be considered as having commenced the
business of a regular and professed pickpocket, in the summer of the
year 1771, being at that time little more than sixteen years of age,
and having just laid by the profession of a strolling player.