The American War was in 1776 at its height, and though some successes
were for the moment cheering the spirits of the British Government, it
already required but little foresight to see how the contest would end.
The revolted colonies, with their declaration of independence, their
President and Congress, had virtually become a new empire among the
dominions of the world, and France was evidently about to give its aid
to their complete establishment. It was just at this period that
occurred the following extraordinary and execrable act of felony, the
work of a single villain, guided by a kind of morbid enthusiasm and
desire of notoriety. That Dr. Franklin, or Silas Deane, or the French
Court, had aught to do with the crime is not in the least credible. It
was, in a moment of war, the natural though questionable policy of the
British Crown and its officers to tinge as much as possible the cause of
the enemy. Hence the prisoner’s lying accounts of interviews with Mr.
Deane, and of other transactions abroad, were skilfully relied upon and
allowed to go forth as casting suspicion on the American and French
Governments. The incendiary, however, did not support his averments with
one tittle of evidence to inculpate any accomplice high or low, and so,
on maturer consideration, thought the British Government and the public;
for after the execution of the culprit, no political notice whatsoever
was taken of the charges he brought against either America or France. It
would, indeed, be an insult to the transcendent fame of Franklin, or the
high character of Deane, to for an instant suppose them sharers in such
atrocity. The burnings perpetrated by Jack the Painter are to be
ascribed to the wretch’s malignant nature alone.
To come to the shameful affair itself. A fire had happened in the
rope-house at Portsmouth on the 7th December, 1776, and had passed for
an accident; and as no suspicion had fallen on any one, no inquiry was
made about it, till, on the 15th of January, 1777, Mr. Russell, one of
the under-clerks of the dockyard, having occasion to use some hemp in
the hemp-house, discovered a tin machine, constructed for holding
matches, and in the cavity at bottom spirits of wine. The matches had
been lighted, and were nearly burnt out; but the fire had not reached
the spirits, the want of air, as it is supposed, having extinguished it
before it had its full effect. This left no room to doubt but that the
late fire was wilfully and maliciously contrived.
If it had burnt as low as the cross-lines, it would have caught the
matches placed on the sides, and would have burnt in four channels down
to the spirits, which would have set the whole place in a blaze. The
machine was made of tin, except the bottom, which was of wood. It was
about the size of a half-pound tea-canister.
The stores in the store-house, which would have been burnt if it had
caught fire, were sufficient to have rigged out fifty sail of ships.
It was then that the whole dockyard was alarmed. Some hundreds of
workmen were instantly drawn together, and every one looked at his
neighbour, convinced that whoever was the contriver of that machine, and
had placed it there, was the incendiary.
This called to mind every minute circumstance that had happened previous
to the breaking out of the fire on the day mentioned, and it occurred to
one that a fellow had been locked into the rope-house the night before;
to another, that a man, whose name was unknown, had been seen loitering
about the yard on the very day; and to others, that he was a painter and
had worked in the neighbourhood, and as he had never been seen there
after the fire, a strong suspicion arose that he must be some way or
other concerned in the mischief that had already been done, and also in
the diabolical design which providentially had been defeated. A singular
advertisement was issued, describing the person of the man, and under
the name of John the Painter, offering him a reward of £50 to surrender
himself to examination, and the same reward to any one who should
apprehend him. In the meantime other fires broke out, particularly at
Bristol, which could not otherwise be accounted for than by supposing
American agents employed to spread fire and devastation throughout the
kingdom, wherever their malignant purposes could be executed with
effect—an idea that favoured the prejudices of the vulgar, and therefore
was the more easily credited. It was not long, however, before Sir John
Fielding, the able police-magistrate (half-brother, by the way, of the
author of “Tom Jones”), found means to trace this John the Painter out,
and some time about the beginning of February he was apprehended at
Odiham, in Hants, for a burglary, and brought to town for examination.
The news of his commitment was soon spread; and it having been reported
that he had been in America, and had worked there as a painter, Richard
Earl Temple, K.G., P.C., desired one Baldwin, a painter, who had
likewise been in America, and had done business there, to attend his
examination before Sir John Fielding, to see if he could recollect him.
But Baldwin, upon looking at the man, and being asked the question,
frankly declared that he had never before seen him in his life. This
open declaration, after others, as he said, had borne false witness
against him, moved the prisoner in favour of Baldwin, and he expressed a
strong desire to cultivate an acquaintance with him, which Baldwin did
not decline, being encouraged to visit him as often as opportunity
offered, in order, if possible, to bring him to confession. This had the
desired effect, and brought the whole scene of iniquity to light. After
a regular attendance on him for fifteen days, sometimes once a day and
sometimes twice, the prisoner at length began to trust him, and to speak
openly. He told him that he had been in France; that he had there seen
Silas Deane, the American ambassador at the Court of Versailles; that
Silas Deane had given him some money and had encouraged him to set fire
to the dockyards at Portsmouth, Plymouth, Woolwich, &c., as the best
means of distressing Great Britain, and that he had promised to reward
him according to the service he should do to the American cause; and
that, as an earnest of what should follow, he had given him a
recommendation to, and bills upon, a merchant in London to the amount of
£300, which, however, he had found necessary to burn to prevent a
discovery; that, in consequence of this encouragement, he procured a
passport from the French king, which passport he lamented that he had
left at Portsmouth, with other things, in a bundle; that from France he
came to Canterbury, where he devised the machine which had been found in
the hemp-house, and had it there constructed; that before he left
Canterbury he had a quarrel with a dragoon; and that when he removed
from thence he directed his course to Portsmouth, where he prepared the
combustibles with which he afterwards set the place on fire. He
disclosed to Baldwin the secret of making the composition and the manner
of his applying it, and told him the circumstance of his being locked in
the rope-house; of his quarrelling with his landlady, on account of the
interruption she gave him in his operations; of her forcibly turning him
out of her house; of his taking another lodging; of the difficulty he
had in lighting his matches; of his purchasing other matches; of his
flight from Portsmouth in a woman’s cart; with many other particulars.
The prisoner was committed, and his trial came on at the assizes for
Hampshire, on the 6th March, 1777, at Winchester, before Sir William
Henry Ashurst, Knt., a judge of the Court of King’s Bench, and Sir
Beaumont Hotham, Knt., a baron of the Exchequer.
The grand jury which had found the bill against the prisoner had for
foreman Henry, second Viscount Palmerston, father of the late
illustrious premier.
The counsel who appeared for the Crown were William Davy,
serjeant-at-law; Mr. Mansfield (afterwards Sir James Mansfield,
Solicitor-General, and subsequently Lord Chief Justice of the Court of
Common Pleas); Mr. Missing; Mr. Buller (afterwards Sir Francis Buller,
Bart., a judge of the Courts of King’s Bench and Common Pleas); and Mr.
Fielding.
The prisoner appears to have had no counsel, but to have acted for
himself throughout the whole trial.