Thus reduced to want, he went to London, and having enlisted as a foot-soldier, he was discharged after several years’ service. He subsequently entered as a marine, but soon afterwards came to London again, and opened a shop in Hog-lane, St. Giles’s. He now married a girl who he thought had money; but soon discovering her poverty, he abandoned her, and removed to Short’s Gardens, where he entered into partnership with a cork-cutter; but having obtained the promise of support from his partner’s customers, he set up on his own account, and was tolerably successful, though his passion for gambling prevented his retaining any part of the produce of his business. His new companions at the gaming-table, having an eye to their own profit, offered to procure him a wife of fortune, though they knew he had a wife living, and actually contrived to introduce him to a young lady of property, with whom a marriage would probably have taken place, but that one of them, struck with remorse of conscience, developed the affair to her father, and frustrated the whole scheme. Being now again thrown upon his own resources, he engaged himself as porter to a merchant; but while in this condition, his master having entrusted him with a check, for sixty pounds, he procured it to be cashed, and having spent the money in the lowest debauchery, he again entered as a marine. There being something in his deportment superior to the vulgar, he was advanced to the rank of sergeant, in which he behaved so well that his officers treated him with considerable favour.
The vessel in which he sailed was of considerable power, and taking a merchant-ship richly laden, and soon afterwards several smaller vessels, the prize-money amounted to a considerable sum. This gave Carr an idea that very great advantages might be obtained by privateering, and having procured a discharge, he entered on board a privateer, and was made master-at-arms. In a few days the privateer took two French ships, one of which they carried to Bristol, and the other into the harbour of Poole; and refitting their ship, they sailed again, and in two days took a French privateer, and gave chase to three others, which they found to have been English vessels belonging to Falmouth, which had been captured by a French privateer. These they retook, and carried them into Falmouth; in their passage to which place they made prize of a valuable French ship, the produce of which contributed to enrich the crew. On their next trip, they saw a ship in full chase of them, on which they prepared for a vigorous defence; and an action soon after taking place, many hands were lost by the French, who at length attempted to sheer off, but were taken after a chase of some leagues.
The commander of the English privateer, being desperately wounded in the engagement, died in a few days; on which Carr courted his widow, and a marriage would have taken place, but that she was seized with a violent fever, which deprived her of life—but not before she had bequeathed him all she was possessed of. Having disposed of her effects, he repaired to London, where he commenced smuggler: but his ill-gotten goods being seized on by the officers of the revenue, he took to the still more dangerous practice of forging seamen’s wills, and gained money thus for some time; but, being apprehended, he was brought to trial at the Old Bailey convicted, and was sentenced to die.
He was of the Romish persuasion, and died with decent resignation to his fate.
Carr was hanged at Tyburn on the 16th of November 1750.
NORMAN ROSS.
EXECUTED FOR MURDER.
ABOUT the time at which this man met his most deserved punishment, the public journals teemed with accounts of the impudence and crimes of the parti-coloured tribe of servants denominated footmen. To such a daring pitch had their impudence arrived, that they created a riot at the theatre in Drury Lane, even in the presence of the heir-apparent to the throne. One evening when the Prince and Princess of Wales, the father and mother of King George III., attended the performance, these miscreants commenced a dreadful uproar. It was then the custom to admit servants in livery into the upper gallery gratis, in compliment to their employers, on whom they were supposed to be in attendance; and not content with peaceably witnessing the performance, they frequently interrupted those who had paid for admission, and, assuming the prerogative of critics, hissed or applauded with the most offensive clamour. In consequence of these violent proceedings, the manager shut the door against them, unless they each paid their shilling. Upon an occasion when that part of the royal family already mentioned were present, they mustered in a gang, to the number of three hundred; broke open the doors of the theatre, fought their way to the very door of the stage, and, in their progress, wounded twenty-five peaceable people. Colonel De Veil, then an active magistrate for Westminster, happened to be present, and in vain attempted to read a proclamation against such an outrage; but, though they obstructed him in his duty, he caused the ringleaders to be secured, and the next day committed three of them to Newgate.
At the ensuing sessions they were convicted of the riot, and sentenced to imprisonment.
In the mean time, the choler of these upstarts was raised to such a pitch, that they sent the following threat to the manager:—