But we now arrive at that period of our hero’s life, when he commenced his ravages upon the Bank of England, which ended in his destruction. Such a series of iniquitous devices were never before practised on mankind.
In the year 1780, under the assumed name of “Brank,” Mr. Price engaged a servant, a plain, simple, honest fellow, by whom he passed his notes without detection. He advertised for him, and their meeting was truly curious. Having received a reply to the advertisement, one evening, just as it was dark, he, driving to the person’s residence, sent the coachman to inquire for the man who had answered the advertisement, saying, “There was a gentleman over the way, in a coach, who wanted to speak with him.” On this, the young fellow was called, and went to the coach, where he was desired to step in. There he saw an apparently old man, affecting the foreigner, seemingly very gouty, wrapped up with five or six yards of flannel about his legs, a camblet surtout buttoned over his chin, close to his mouth, a large patch over his left eye, and every part of his face so hid, that the young fellow could not see any part of it, except his nose, his right eye, and a small part of that cheek. To carry on the deception still better, Mr. Price thought proper to place the man on his left side, on which the patch was, so that the old gentleman could take an askance look at the young man with his right eye, and by that means discover only a small portion of his own face. He appeared, by this disguise, to be between sixty and seventy years of age; and afterwards, when the man saw him standing, not much under six feet high, owing to boots or shoes with heels very little less than three inches high. Added to this deception, he was so buttoned up and straightened, as to appear perfectly lank.
The writer of his life, to whom we are indebted for these particulars, then subjoins:—“It may not be ill-timed, to those who did not know him, to give the true description of his person. He was about five feet six inches high; a compact neat-made man, square shouldered, inclined to corpulency; his legs were firm and well set; but by nature his features made him look much older than he really was, which, at that time, was nearly fifty; his nose was aquiline, and his eyes small and gray; his mouth stood very much inwards, with very thin lips; his chin pointed and prominent; with a pale complexion: but what contributed as much as any thing to favour his disguise of speech was, his loss of teeth. He walked exceedingly upright, was very active and quick in his walk, and was something above what we describe a man to be, when we call him “a dapper-made man.”
This simple and honest fellow (Samuel) Mr. Price employed to negociate his forged bills, principally in the purchase of lottery tickets, at the same time never fully disclosing to him his name, person, or history. Indeed, the plan was devised and executed with uncommon ability. However, at last Samuel was detected, having passed bills to the amount of fourteen hundred pounds!! but his agent eluded discovery, and retired with his booty into the shades of the deepest obscurity. The poor servant was imprisoned for nearly a twelvemonth, terrified out of his wits, being the innocent instrument of such complicated villany.
Mr. Price, having most probably exhausted his former acquisitions, sallied forth, in the year 1782, after new game, with the most unparalleled audacity. For this purpose, he obtained his second servant, from a register-office, a smart active boy, of the name of Power: his father was a Scotch presbyterian; and, to ingratiate himself with him, Mr. Price made great pretensions to religion, expressing a hope that his son was well acquainted with the Lord’s Prayer, and the Ten Commandments. Our hero began his ravages upon Mr. Spilsbury, of Soho-square, ordering large quantities of his drops. Wilmot was his present assumed name, and he introduced himself to him as possessing all the symptoms of age and infirmity. He was wrapped up in a large camblet great coat; he had a slouched hat on, the brim of which was large, and bent downward on each side of his head; a piece of red flannel covered his chin, and came up on each side of his face almost as high as his cheek-bones; he had a large bush wig on, and legs wrapped over with flannel; he had also a pair of green spectacles on his nose, with a green silk shade hanging down from his hat, but no patch on his eye.
It is remarkable that Mr. Spilsbury knew Mr. Price, but not Mr. Wilmot; nay, so complete was the deception, that as they sat together in a coffee-house, Mr. S. complained to his coffee-house acquaintance, of the notes which Wilmot had imposed upon him, Price crying out now and then, “Lack-a-day! Good God! who could conceive such knavery to exist? What, and did the Bank refuse payment, Sir?” staring through his spectacles with as much seeming surprise as an honest man would have done. “O yes,” (said Mr. S.) with some degree of acrimony, “for it was on the faith of the Bank of England, that I and a great many others have taken them; and they were so inimitably well done, that the nicest judges could not distinguish them.”—“Good God! Lack-a-day! (said Price,) he must have been an ingenious villain! What a complete old scoundrel!”
Upon Mr. Watt a hosier, Mr. Reeves a colourman, and a great many other individuals, he practised frauds equally ingenious and successful, for in one day he negociated sixty ten-pound-notes, and changed fourteen fifty-pound notes for seven one-hundred-pound notes; indeed, so multiplied were his tricks at this period, that the mind sickens at the recital of them.
In his last attempt on the Bank, which ended in his detection, he assumed the name of Palton, pretended he was an Irish linen factor, and employed two young men to circulate his notes, whilst he still, greatly disguised, kept back in obscurity. By means of a pawnbroker, he was found out with great difficulty. On his seizure, he solemnly declared his innocence, and before the magistrate behaved with insolence. This detection took place on the 14th of January, 1786: he was soon sworn to by more persons than one; and seeing no way of escape, he pretended, to his wife in particular, great penitence; but there appeared no ground for its reality. The Bank was fully intent on the prosecution of him, and there was no doubt of his dying by the hands of the executioner. He, however, was found one evening hanging against the post of his door, in his apartments, Tothill-fields bridewell. Thus was the earth freed from as great a monster as ever disgraced society.
It may appear strange to the reader that this depraved impostor could have so long escaped discovery. But it must be added, that besides the multifarious disguises of his person, he had taken care to prevent almost the possibility of detection. To use the words of the writer of his life—“Had Mr. Price permitted a partner in his proceedings, had he employed an engraver, had he procured paper to be made for him with water-marks put into it, he must have been soon discovered; but Price was without a confidant: he engraved his own plates, made his own paper, with the water-marks, and his negociator never knew him, thereby confining a secret to his own breast, which he wisely deemed not safe in the breast of another; even Mrs. Price had not the least knowledge or suspicion of his proceedings. Having practised engraving till he had made himself sufficiently master of it, he then made his own ink, to prove his own works; having purchased implements, and manufactured the water-marks, he next set himself to counterfeit hand-writings, and succeeded so far, as even to puzzle a part of the first body of men in the world. The abilities of the unhappy Ryland were exerted in his profession, and therefore the imposition was to be less wondered at; but here was a novice in the art, capable of equal ingenuity in every department of the dangerous undertaking, from the engraving down to the publication.”
Whoever reads this narrative with attention, must feel rising within his breast a series of useful reflections. That such talents should be appropriated to such a use, must be deeply regretted; but that any individual should, throughout life, thus prey on his fellow-creatures, excites the strongest detestation. Society also may learn lessons of caution and vigilance from the contemplation of the extraordinary character we have delineated. Vice here appears in its most odious features, that of meditated imposition upon the honest and industrious part of the community. Mark, however, its serpentine progress and its wretched termination.