The adventures of a Porcupine; or, The villain unmask'd: being the genuine memoirs of a notorious rogue lately in the British Army, and ci-devant member of an extensive light-fingered association in England. : Containing a narrative of the most extraordinary and unexampled depravity of conduct perhaps ever exhibited to the world. In a letter to a young gentleman in New-York. : [One line of quotation] : To which is added, a postscript to Peter Porcupine; being remarks on a pamphlet lately published by him, entitled, his "Life and adventures." / By Daniel Detector. ; [One line of quotation] ; Embellished with a likeness of the Porcupine.

The adventures of a Porcupine; or, The villain unmask'd: being the genuine memoirs of a notorious rogue lately in the British Army, and ci-devant member of an extensive light-fingered association in England. : Containing a narrative of the most extraordinary and unexampled depravity of conduct perhaps ever exhibited to the world. In a letter to a young gentleman in New-York. : [One line of quotation] : To which is added, a postscript to Peter Porcupine; being remarks on a pamphlet lately published by him, entitled, his "Life and adventures." / By Daniel Detector. ; [One line of quotation] ; Embellished with a likeness of the Porcupine.

The adventures of a Porcupine; or, The villain unmask'd: being the genuine memoirs of a notorious rogue lately in the British Army, and ci-devant member of an extensive light-fingered association in England. : Containing a narrative of the most extraordinary and unexampled depravity of conduct perhaps ever exhibited to the world. In a letter to a young gentleman in New-York. : [One line of quotation] : To which is added, a postscript to Peter Porcupine; being remarks on a pamphlet lately published by him, entitled, his "Life and adventures." / By Daniel Detector. ; [One line of quotation] ; Embellished with a likeness of the Porcupine.

Table of contents

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Title page

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PREFACE.

THE Adventures of a Porcupine.

A Postscript to Peter Porcupine.

ELEGANT AND COPIOUS HISTORY OF FRANCE.

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The CONTRACT.

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Adventures of a Porcupine; OR, THE VILLAIN UNMASK'D: BEING THE GENUINE MEMOIRS OF A NOTORIOUS ROGUE LATELY IN THE BRITISH ARMY, AND CI-DEVANT MEMBER OF AN EXTENSIVE LIGHT-FINGERED ASSOCIATION IN ENGLAND. Containing a Narrative of the most Extraordinary and Unexampled Depravity of Conduct perhaps Ever Exhibited to the World. IN A LETTER TO A YOUNG GENTLEMAN IN NEW-YORK.

"These things are strange, but not more strange than true".

TO WHICH IS ADDED, A POSTSCRIPT TO PETER PORCUPINE; BEING REMARKS On a pamphlet lately published by him, entitled, his "Life and Adventures." BY DANIEL DETECTOR.

"I'll tell the bold fac'd villain, that he lies".

EMBELLISHED WITH A LIKENESS OF THE PORCUPINE

PHILADELPHIA, PRINTED FOR, AND SOLD BY A. & L. G. HENDERSON; Also, by the different Booksellers. September 1796.

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COPY-RIGHT SECURED ACCORDING TO LAW.

PREFACE.

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THE remarkable change which has lately took place in the circumstances of a noted defender of British enormities, occasioned the writing of the following letter, and the reader will please observe, that it was wrote solely for the information of a friend, and without the least expectation that it would ever find its way into a printing-office.

The person whom we are led to suppose the writer means, has been four years in this country. He came to it in a clandestine manner, without a farthing, and has lived here, seemingly in the midst of plenty, without any known means of procuring subsistance.

Lately, he has commenced business in a line which would require a considerable capital:—Whether British guineas or Tory dollars have, or have not, been the reward of his scurrility—his abuse of the immortal heroes of the American revolution, and of the friends of liberty in Europe—and his unwearied attempts to involve the United States in war with their republican allies, is worthy of examination by the friends of the happiness and prosperity of America. Be that as it may, he deserves the reprobation of all good men, by his profound devotion [Page]to that monster whose sattelites have, in the most barbarous monster, ravaged the United States, end whom, every man possessed of the common feelings of humanity must detest and abhor!

Much has been lately wrote in this city respecting the occupation of the person alluded to, in Europe and America; and some have even hinted, that the thefts, housse and shop-breakings, &c. which have been so numerous lately in and about Philadelphia, has enabled him to emerge!

The editors, on seeing the letter, earnestly solicited permission to transcribe it for the press, which its author could scarcely be prevailed on to consent to.—It is printed verbatim from the original.

The "Postscript to Peter Porcupine" exposes only the most glaring of the falsehoods, absurdities, contradictions, and inconsistencies, with which the pamphlet of his "Life and Adventures" abounds; but which must at once strip it of every particle of credit for authenticity which it may have obtained from the superficial reader.

THE Adventures of a Porcupine.

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PHILADELPHIA, July, 1796.

"O GOLD! thou guide to evil!—bane of life!

"Thou spring of mischief, and thou source of strife!

"Happy for man if thou hadst never been!

"Thou pleasing mischief, pregnant cause of sin!

"Thy dire effects in bloody wars we see!

"Wrongs, rapines, murders, all proceed from thee!"

MY DEAR FRIEND,

AT your reiterated solicitations I have attempted to procure you a faithful narrative of the life and transactions of that mercenary incendiary who for some time past has been, by foreign assistance, forcing himself into notice, on the theatre of American politics. After a most vigilant search, I have procured, besides other authentic documents, a rough sketch of his life, drawn up by himself in a paroxysm of despair, when the gallows stared him in the face; but, as he escaped punishment at that time, he has been as careful to prevent its publication as "existing circumstances" would permit. The gentleman [Page]from whom I have procured that manuscript, got possession of it at a time when its wretched author had not wherewithal to procure him a hiding-place from the storm. He wished my friend to digest it for publication, expecting by that means to procure a little money, but before it could be got ready for press, its owner requested its suppression; nor would I at this time have procured the loan of it, had not the brazen-faced Porcupine declared in my friend's company, when he mentioned it in a jocular manner, that he never gave it him, and that not a word contained therein was true, with respect to him: The falsity of this declaration, I am convinced, will appear as obvious to you as it did to my friend, when you are informed, that it was written and dated in Ipswich jail; at a period when he could have no inducement for making his crimes appear more hideous than they really were.

By the assistance of this, and other information, I have traced him through the complicated vicissitudes of a life abandoned to every species of wickedness, and recorded the principal actions of his life as accurately, as considering my sources of information, and distance from the various scences, could possibly be done, these considered, I will have no occasion to apologise for the errors which may unavoidably have place in any part of this letters.

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HE was born (whether above or below ground I know not) on the estate of that celebrated English peer * whom Peter Pindar lately recommended to the Royal Academy of London, as a suitable representation of the Devil, if they wished to procure a striking likeness of the "Sovereign Lord and King" of the internal regions. This effigy of his Satanic Majesty became the Porcupine's master; for by the law which at that period existed in England, the children of miners became the property of the person to whom their parents belonged. From this state of bondage, the decease of the father before the 14th year of the child's existence could only release it, for as the women on the death of their husband's were declared free, immemorial custom had considered the offspring as the mother's property, if it had not attained the above-mentioned age. These children were generally received into the parish workhouse, but starvation stared the mother in the face, and she had no alternative but that of returning to her subterraneous employment.

Unfortunately for the Porcupine, ere he had attained the eighth year of his age his reputed father departed this life, in consequence of a bruise he received by the falling of a huge rock of coal; and in the year 1774 the Porcupine emerged from the coal-pit, which, for succeffive generations, had contained the cradle [Page]and the death-bed of his ancestors—Unfortunately for the Porcupine, I say, was this premature death of his father, for had it not happened, he might have passed from the womb to "that bourne from whence no traveller returns," in oblivion; but for this fatal accident, the "political pilots of America" would have been under the necessity of steering their vessel without the aid and guidance of a "bloody buoy," and an English whipping-post would not have been graced with the carcase of the Porcupine; but for it, the Executive of the United States would never have been puffed with the flattering panegyrics of this dishonest hypocritical wretch, nor would an English judge have been under the necessity of passing on him a sentence of death; but for it, the light-fingered tribe would have lacked a skilful associate, and his Britannic Majesty an able agent.

The Porcupine, on his arrival above ground, was admitted into the parish work-house, thro' the influence of a very cha itable lady in the neighbourhood; and his mother having accepted the hand of another pit-mate, returned to her former slavery. The Porcupine had not been long in the work-house, until that covetuous disposition, which has accompanied him in an eminent degree through life, began to appear, but for a while it was confined to the toys, &c. of his companions. During the first two years he was in the work-house, he made a very rapid progress in his education; [Page]but as he advanced in years, he advanced likewise in roguery, he had been often convicted of petty thefts, yet his insinuating address, and progress in learning counterbalanced his bad actions with his too-credulous teachers, and he often escaped the punishment his crimes deserved.

He had been nearly four years in the workhouse when he commenced his depradations on its proyerty, and on that of its officers: Our hero has, throughout his whole life, been possessed of an unconquerable propensity for stealing, and drinking strong liquors—Several small articles had from time to time disappeared from the work-house, and the Porcupine had frequently been observed to be in liquor. Once, in particular, having found means to convey a brass goblet from the governor's kitchen, by the assistance of one of those monsters who are to be found in all the towns in England, whose whose business is to purchase stolen goods, and to encourage youth to steal, he converted the goblet into cash, and part of that into gin, with which he got drunk; and returning to the work-house, yet intoxicated, he went directly to the governor's kitchen, and told the cook that he observed one of the boys on the road to town with a goblet under his arm; inquiring if it belonged to the work-house. The goblet being, in consequence, immediately missed, and information thereof given to the governor, he ordered the boy charged with the crime to be [Page]brought before him, when low! it appeared that he had not been without the gates of the gates of the work-house that day: The Porcupine was consequently caught in the snare he had laid for another—the charge of theft reverted to him, who was brought before the governor, but the gin having commenced its operation, he was speechless, in a state of inebriation, disgraceful at any age, but more so at his. Next day, the treble crimes of theft, drunkenness, and lying, procured him a most severe chastisement: his credit in the workhouse was at an end; and from that day he formed the design of leaving it the first favourable opportunity.

Some time in the spring of 1780, the year in which he commenced pocket-picking, he found means to extract from a countryman's pocket, who had come to town to attend a fair, a few shillings. Conscious of detection if he did not leave the work-house immediately, and already sufficiently tired of its confinement, he determined to depart as soon after supper as he conveniently could, for, by so doing, he would have a night's travelling before his going off would be known.

His memory was at this time pretty retentive—his late severe flogging he had not forgot—he had likewise perfect remembrance of another recent disgrace, which, though not so corporeally painful, got him the hootings, hissings and contemptuous jeerings of all his companions; [Page]these, had he not been possessed of a heart so naturally prone to thieving, might have superinduced a reprisal, before his final leave on the body of the object of his vengeance; but the property, rather than the body, of the person who, when fulfilling his duty, he supposed had injured him, was his object; and as he had neither clothes nor money to overburden him when travelling, a little addition to the production of his first public essay, he was determined to attempt procuring; with this view, he employed the evening in scheming, and while the governor, teachers, &c. were suping, he put his schemes in execution; the governess's chamber was the first object of his examination—in it he could discover nothing worth carrying off, save an antique repeating watch, which was immediately secured —the governor's was next in course, and after strict examination, a solitary Queen Ann's halfguinea, which its owner had long kept as an object of curiosity, was the only thing he could find worthy of capture:—The rooms of the teachers came next under review, but none of the precious metals were to be found in them; however, he determined they should not fare better for that: In one room he thought a change from the work-house dress would prevent his being stopped when travelling, and in the other, a determination to destroy, as he could not carry off, entered his malicious mind. The best suit belonging to the junior teacher [Page]he cut in pieces with a pen-knife he found in the room, and from that of the senior he carried off a black cloth coat, a pair of black sattin breeches, and a three-cocked hat, with these under his arm he sallied forth from the work-house, and continued walking, nor dared to look behind him, till he was at least a mile distant from his late home. Here he stoped for the purpose of shifting—you may easily conceive what a ridiculous figure a youth of his years would make in such a dress.

The teacher's posteriors were equal in size to those of any man in this city, and his coat would have been too large for Mr. Sedgwick; not with standing which, this offspring of a coal-pit union determined to change his dress, and having thrown into an adjoining meadow-drain the principal part of his work-house uniform, he equipped himself in the clothes he had stole, and, in that ridiculous dress, he set off for Birmingham. On the road he committed several petty acts of theft; the people supposing he had escaped from some mad-house, were not very watchful of their property when he entered their dwellings.

He arrived at that town about eight o'clock in the morning, in the same ludicrous dress, which arrested the attention of every eye: A huge old-fashioned very fine cocked hat, and a pair of wooden-soaled work-house manufactured, shoes—a superfine very large black cloth coat, and a coarse grey cloth work-house jacket [Page]—a pair of very large and fine sattin breeches, and a pair of the coarsest grey work-house stockings—a very rich antique watch-chain dangling on his thigh, and a great notty oak-branch in his hand, were contrasts so truly striking, as to have a very visible effect on the visible faculties of every beholder.

A member of a gang of thieves, who had for some time infested Birmingham, accosted our young hero, and very soon discovered him to be of "the sort;" he therefore carried him before their scheming committee, by the unanimous voice of whom, he was admitted a member of their association, and from whom he received a complete change of dress. What became of the repeater he never knew, and its loss he has often lamented. Under the tuition of these light-fingered gentlemen, however, he soon became a proficient in the art of picking locks and every species of thieving. He continued in this place near twelve months; during which he assisted them in robbing the stores, &c. of several capital merchants, and always shared equal in the booty. Early in the year 1781, an end was put to this association, by some of the gang being seized in the act of breaking open the cellar of an inn, and the rogues not having confidence in one another, for personal safety a retreat was unavoidable. He, therefore, with a companion of the trade, left Birmingham the morning after said detection, determining to carry on on their own [Page]account, and took the road to Oxford. Near Coventry, they fell in with a chaise and four, containing a young lady and her inamorato, on their way to Gretna Green, and having stopped the carriage, the loving couple, alarmed at the appearance of a rusty pistol without a lock, delivered to the robbers, all their cash, consisting of nearly 200 guineas; how the lovers were to proceed, or whether the Caledonian horse-shoeing divine would unite them in the holy bands of matrimony without the appearance of a purse, were objects which never struck the minds of either of these hard-hearted followers of Phorbas. They slept that night, and breakfasted next morning, in the house of of a poor, but honest and industrious, countryman, from which, not with standing, they took care not to depart without a prize. The laborious man being up at the dawn of day to his work, when the unsuspecting woman was empleyed preparing breakfast, a sit opportunity offered, and the monsters, callous to every feeling of humanity, picked the locks of an ancient bureau, and extracted therefrom one guinea and three half-crown pieces, which were carefully wrapped up in rags, and deposited in a corner of one the drawers, undoubtedly a part of the hard earnings which the industrious couple had collected for the purposes of paying their rent and the teacher's quarterly bills for the education of their children: they departed unsuspected, after paying the [Page]good woman he moderate charge, and receiving her hearty thanks; this day they dined at a tavern, from which they carried off a silver pot. They arrived at Oxford that same night, in which city they resided some time: during which they broke open, a variety of haberdashers, mens mercers, hardware and jewellery shops, &c. the products of which they easily disposed of, as our hero takes notice, in the manuscript already mentioned, that "he never was in any town two days without discovering some place for the disposal of stolen goods."

The accomplices in villainy had not been in partnership six months, when, in consequence of a difference respecting the division of some booty, they determined to separate, but not before each had solemnly swore never to become volunteer evidence against the other. It was the Poroupine's lot to leave Oxford; he therefore set off with the intention of going to London, but having stopped a few days at Banbury fair, he picked several pockets, stole two or three pieces of cloth, several pairs of gloves, stockings, &c. which occasioned his return to Oxford to dispose of them. During his absence, a reward of 50 guineas had been advertised for the discovery of the persons guilty of a late daring robbery, and if one of the delinquents made the discovery, he was to receive pardon as well as the reward. It was the last robbery that the Porcupine and his companion had been jointly guilty of, and the [Page]promise of pardon and reward induced him to break his solemn engagement by making discovery of his companion in iniquity. As the the assizes were sitting the trial speedily commenced, but, unfortunately for the Porcupine, he could not restrain his hands even in the court; when retiring from giving his evidence, he was caught in the act of picking a gentleman's pocket—he was accordingly committed to jail; his trial came on before the assize rose, and he and his companion were found guilty; the latter, on account of the magnitude of his crime, death—and the former, on account of his youth, got off with a sentence of imprisonment "for six months, and receiving on the first Friday of the first, third, and fifth months, 100 lashes on his naked back, by the hands of the common hangman." This punishment had no other effect on the Porcupine than that of hardening him in iniquity. The period of his confinement had no sooner expired, than he set off again for London; when he arrived there, he had in possession, in addition to what he carried from Oxford, about 20 yards printed calicoe, I piece book muslin, 4 large shawls, a quantity of ribbons, gloves, stockings, &c. a silver watch, two silver table-spoons, one silver porter-mug, besides some cash, all of which he picked up at the different houses he halted at on the road. The goods he very soon disposed of, and he continued, as usual, drunk and honest till his purse was reduced to [Page]its original emptiness: He then recommenced his depradations on his neighbour's property, and, being well known to all thieves in London and its vicinity, in the course of a few months he assisted in the commission of many capital and daring robberies. Shortly after his arrival in that city, he became, and continued during his stay, the protector of one of the fair dames of St. Giles's, who supplied him very liberally with drink and money; but he and a companion being on a foot-pad expedition in the neighbourhood of London, one evening, they stoped a carriage, and demanded the money of a gentleman who was in it, which he having refused, the companion of the Porcupine fired in at one door, which missing the gentleman, wounded our hero at the other, who was immediately apprehended and conducted to prison. Next court he was tried, and received sentence to be slogged at the cart's tail, and imprisoned three months in Tothilfields Bridewell. On his liberation he set off for Canterbury, on the road to which picked up several small articles of value, and by his cunning address, prevailed on the daughter of a farmer, at whose house he tarried one night, to sleep with him, and in the morning carried off her father's watch and two guineas, which had been carelessly left in the parlour over night. [In the manuscript mentioned at the beginning of this letter, he says, he had a custom of travelling cross-roads.]

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Having arrived at Canterbury, he commenced his old trade, and was pretty succesful, but a search being set on foot, his narrow escape from the officers of justice, induced him to enter in the service of "The Defender of the Faith," by inlisting in one of his regiments of infantry, which was shortly after commanded to prepare for a voyage to America; before the time fixed for their departure, however, the negociations for peace commenced, the order for embarkation was countermanded, and the regiment ordered to Gloucestor, where he continued some time; when being ordered to Leicestor on a recruiting party he began again to steal. The day of their arrival, he and other two of the party took a trunk from behind a carriage, in the vicinity of that town, which contained several articles of great value. In this place they resided several months, during which he married a daughter of the tavern-keeper on whom he was billetted.

The party being ordered to join the regiment, on their return through Birmingham, he selt in with some of his old acquaintances, in whose company the night he was there was spent in the commission of several petty acts of theft. He had no sooner joined the regiment than, by saying she was a w—e who followed him, he prevailed on the mistress of the house in which he was billeted, to turn his wife out of doors, and on his fellow-soldiers to mob her out of town.

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Shortly after this, having met one night in the streets with one of his officers in a state of intoxication, he, being as usual disguised, attacked and robbed him of his watch and money; he then left him, went for his uniform, and returning to the officer led him home. This unfortunate man's property again tempted the rapacious villain, and he took off a few shirts, &c. which he found in the room. These he was careful to dispose of that night, but he thought himself safe enough with the watch; he was however mistaken: the officer had perfect recollection which soldier it was who saw him home, and upon missing his shirts, he ordered a strict search to be made at the Porcupine's lodging—his shirts could not be found, but his watch unexpectedly was: The unfortunate wretch was immediately took under guard, and shortly after tried by a court-martial, who sentenced him to receive, which he actually did, 500 lashes. He deserted immediately after his recovery, and went directly to Derby. The same night that he arrived there he stole from a shop a vast number of silk handkerchiefs, and next night, from another shop he took some bundles of stockings, some dozen pair of gloves, and other small articles; with these he travelled the country as a hawker, and stealing whenever an opportunity offered. In the course of this journey, he fell in with a fellow rogue, who advised him to commence coiner; the two accordingly set to [Page]work, and having finished a quantity of money they separated. The hero, of this letter was soon after this apprehended at Notingham for passing bad money, but the magistrates, not knowing he was a deserter, agreed not to prosecute him if he would enlist in the army; this he consented to, and immediatly joined a regiment then in town. He had not been long in this regiment until he was sent on a recruiting party into the county of Stafford; he had no sooner, however, been seperated from the main body than he determined to desert. He picked the lock of a trunk belonging to the owner of the first house he was billeted in, and exchanged his regimentals for a suit of his landlord's; this done, he set off for Birmingham; when he arrived there, hearing of the fatal end of a number of his companions, and recollecting his own hair-breadth escapes, he resolved to follow thieving no longer: With this view he sought out for a footman's place in some gentleman's family. He was of a good appearance, which by the assistance of a forged certificate of good character, got him into the service of a young gentleman who was going to make the tour of Europe, and they ecordingly set off for France. His not knowing the French language was a great inconvenience to his master, who, therefore determined to be at the expence of teaching him. They spent a long time in visiting the different towns in the north of France; but the wretch [Page]had no sooner acquired a knowledge of the language, which was highly pleasing to his master, than he determined to return to England. Since he had been in this gentleman's service, he conducted himself honestly, or at least if he did steal, it was not discovered, this honest disposition, however, did not long continue —his master having gone out with some companions on a party of pleasure for two days, he, being an unsuspicious man, left him the charge of his clothes and money, but he had no sooner gone, than having put the money and most valuable part of his master's wardrobe into one trunk, he took it with him and set off immediately for Calais, from thence to Dover, and from Dover to Bath, without stopping a a longer time than was necessary at any place on the road. His going to Bath, he says in the before-mentioned manuscript, was for the purpose of making his fortune, by marrying an heiress! Had this happened, he adds, he would really have lived honest and sober ever after; but fortunately for the ladies, he could not restrain his hands from stealing when there.

In consequence of a constant attendance at the card-room, a show of cash, a vast stock of impudence, and a smattering of French, he got intimate with several young gentlemen, one of whom having lost very considerably at play, was enabled by a present of the Porcupine's to continue, and in the end came off gainer; this generosity, as the young gentleman [Page]thought it, induced him to invite our hero to his father's house next night to tea, which was complied with, and the visits often repeated, in the conrse of which, he pretended to be deeply smitten with the charms of the young gentleman's sister, and made her several rich presents. His endeavours were successful—ugly as he is, he says he won her heart, and had he desisted from robbery for two weeks, he might have been in possession of an amiable and accomplished lady with a handsome fortune; but being apprehended attempting to rob the stage between Bath and Cricklade, an end was put to the affair.

On examination, one of his accomplices served him just as he did his old companion at Oxford, by turning evidence for the crown, in consequence of which, three indictments for capital crimes were found against him. That for robbing the stage was first tried, and the evidence being clear, he was found guilty, and sentenced to be banged! but the disturbance between England and Spain, respecting Nootka Sound, breaking out at this time, he received a pardon on condition of joining one of the regiments ordered for Gibraltar; this he gladly consented to. He was kept confined till they were ready to embark, at which he and several others were marched under a strong guard for Portsmouth to be put aboard the transports which were lying at that place; but on the way, the Porcupine found means to escape [Page]from his guard, and went to London, from whence fear of discovery made him take immediate shipping for Dublin. He arrived in that city with an empty purse, but not having forgot his old trade, he the evening of his arrival, picked a gentleman's pocket of about seventy pounds in cash and bank-notes, and continued his depradations during his stay in that town. By his attendance at the places of public amusement, he got acquaint with several genteel families, in particular, he became intimate in the family of a respectable citizen, the eldest daughter of whom he paid the closeft attention, and soon prevailed upon her to consent to marriage, although her father had refused his consent. He took lodgings for her in Parliament street, and lived in the midst of plenty and pleasure for some time; notwithstanding which, he was no less assiduous in his attention to another young lady, in the out-skirts of the city, with whose parents he passed for the son of an English gentleman of fortune. He made her several very valuable presents, and she received him in a favourable manner; but, when the young lady was on the point of yielding to his solicitations, her father having assented to the plan, which was to set off on the morning of their marriage, to his father's estate in England, an accident happened, which, though it stoped the marriage, ruined the lady. In one of their walks in her father's garden, when drawing out his handkerchief [Page]he dropped a letter from one of his old companions, then under sentence of death in England. She took no notice of it, and he not observing it, it lay till she had an opportunity of picking it up and perusing its contents, which made her acquaint with his true character.

At his next interview she laid the letter before him—in vain did he invent a variety of excuses, such as finding it, &c. it was directed to him, she remarked, and she concluded by telling him, she was determined never to see him again—it would have been well for her, if she had continued firm in her determination. He now resolved to leave Ireland without the knowledge of his wife; before which, however, he wished to see the young lady who had found the letter, and that he might accomplish this, he wrote her a letter, requesting her to meet him that evening at nine o'clock, near her father's gate (for he durst not go within it now), that he might explain what had happened. This she unfortunately complied with: he tied his horse to a tree, and they walked on a little way; he endeavoured to reconcile matters, but to no purpose. He then threw her down, and having stuffed his handkerchief in her mouth, ravished, and afterwards robbed her—left her almost senseless, and never saw her more.

He then made for his horse, which having mounted, he rode off directly for Donaghadee, at which place he embarked for Port-Patrick, [Page]from whence he set off for Carlisle, at which place he continued some time pursuing his old trade, and continuing his old licentious way of life. He seduced a servant maid, and afterwards induced her to live with him; notwithstanding which, he paid his addresses to a young lady in the neighbourhood, but finding her father prejudiced against his very appearance, and resolved to have no connection whatever with him, he changed his design, and prevailed on the young lady to submit to his lustful desires. Her father, irritated at her disobedience, determined to put an effectual stop to any future interviews, and had her confined to her chamber. She however contrived to correspond with him, by the assistance of a female servant, and in her letters earnestly intreated him to form some plan to convey her from her prison; but as he was not hasty in discovering one, she requested him, by letter, as her window-shutters were fastened, to come at midnight with a rope, mount to the top of the house, and let the rope down the chimney of her chamber, to which she promised to tie her clothes and money, after that was drawn up, and the rope again let down, she was to fasten herself. He repaired to the house at the hour appointed, which he very easily mounted by a peat-stack and a stable which were raised at one of [...] gables; having hoisted her money and clothes, he let the rope down again, not with intention of carrying off miss, for as he [Page]could not procure her estate, she had no more charms for him; however, not suspecting his intention, she fastened herself to the rope, and he having hoisted her about half-way up, he fastened it round the chimney-top, and went off with her clothes and money, leaving her in that sooty situation to reftect on her credulity. By this treacherous nocturnal expedition, he acquired clothes, ornaments, a watch, &c. of nearly 150l. value, and in cash about 53 guineas, with which, to avoid another whipping-post exhibition, he took a moonlight leave of Carlisle; taking care, however, to carry likewise with him, from his own lodgings, whatever could conveniently be done, without giving his Cumberland dear "in possession" cause to suspect his intention of elopement. At Brampton he dispofed of the goods. He continued in this place about 10 days, stealing whenever an opportunity occurred. Having entered the house of an aged widow woman one night, he demanded of her where her money lay, the woman told him she had none; however, he observed a watch, which when attempting to take, she laid hold of him by the arm, beseeching him not to take it—it had been her husband's before she knew him, she said, and she had kept it with the greatest care since his death—it was an agreeable companion in her hours of solitude, she added, and begged him to leave it. The callous monster irritated at her holding him, struck her with a [Page]short bludgeon which he always carried with him, and laid her lifeless at his seet. He then took the watch, and even riffled the unfortunate woman's pockets. Having locked the door, he made off for Litchfield, where falling in with a branch of the grand association, they carried on the business on an extensive plan for three months; churches, dwelling-houses, shops, cellars, &c. all were examined in turn by this band of russians. Their attack on the country-house of an extensive wholesale merchant is particularly worthy of notice: it was situated about three miles from Litchfield, and as nobody was left to take care of the house during winter, the rogues had an opportunity to empty it of almost every thing it contained; they took a cart with them, and having picked the locks, rumaged the house, and loaded their cart with the most valuable articles they could find, which they immediately took to town. Next day, while two of the gang were observing whether any of the family went to the house, the others were employed disposing of what they had stole. At night they paid the house another visit, and carried off another cart-load of the most valuable and portable articles which it then contained. For three weeks this extraordinary robbery remained undiscovered, and even then the perpetrators were not known. In the mean time, these villains had broke into two of the parish churches and a dissenting meeting house, from each of which the carried [Page]off the communion-cups, &c. stripped the pulpits and covered pews, and took from one of the churches a large folio bible full of notes, which they burnt. The vest number of house and shop-breakings, and other daring robberies lately committed in this town, occasioned a strict search to be set on foot, particularly amongst strangers, in consequence of which, two of the gang were apprehended, but our hero and the other escaped; he did not, however, leave town, he was doomed to grace the Litchfield whipping-post. On the next market day, observing a countryman with a purseful of guineas, he determined to attempt procuring it, and following him till an opportunity occurred, he decoyed the simple fellow into an alley, then knocked him down, and robbed him of his all; but he had not left him long when the dreadful cries of the unfortunate man alarmed some people in the adjoining houses; a purfuit was accordingly made, and the Porcupine was seized and committed to jail; before he was apprehended, however, he had disposed of the purse some way. He was soon after tried, and found guilty—he was sentenced to three months imprisonment, and to receive 50 lashes under the gallows. It was a fortunate circumstance for him, that nothing transpired in the course of the trial, respecting the late robberies—had he been convicted of them he would undoubtedly have met with that sate he has so long deserved.

[Page]

Afraid of a discovery which would put an effectual stop to his career, he petitioned to be allowed to enlist, which being granted, he entered with a company then in town, belonging to a regiment lying at Ipswich, to which he was immediately sent with some other recruits. At a fair they halted one day trying to procure more recruits, and our hero prevailed on his guard to take off his hand cuffs, which being done, he went to the fair, at which he picked a farmer's pocket of about 20 guineas, 6 of which he gave to his comrades. Having arrived at Ipswich, and being restored to the liberty of a British soldier, he began again to steal. It would require a volume to contain a particular account of the crimes he committed during his stay in this town. Shortly after he arrived, he married a servant girl; this wretch, who has been guilty of so many enormities, made no seruple to break through the holy bands of matrimony whenever it suited his purposes. At this time he had wives in various parts of England, and one in Ireland; besides which, he had ruined a number of young women, who never had the honour of being united to him by wedlock's sacred ties.

The Porcupine having with several of his fellow-foldiers, broke into the store of an extensive wholesale merchant, and carried off a quantity of goods, cash, bills, &c. to a very considerable amount. The Porcupine knew this could not remain long undiscovered, and [Page]being more provident than his companions, he arranged matters so as to procure his share in cash, and with the addition of a watch, a few guineas, and a complete change of dress, belonging to the owner of the house in which he was billeted, he made off directly for Newmarket, at which place the races were to commence the next week.

This daring robbery was the occasion of a very strict search, and a few of the Porcupine's companions were among those apprehended on suspicion. Some of the goods being found in their possession, and one of their accomplices having become king's evidence, a full disclosure was made. A reward was offered for apprehending our hero, by the military as well as civil authority, and he was arrested and dragged out of an assembly, at which he had promised himself the best crops he had yet reaped, and sent to prison. He was soon after sent under a military guard to Ipswich, and lodged in jail. It was while lying there, under the horrors of a guilty conscience, and expecting the gallows as the reward of his crimes, that he wrote the manuscript I mentioned at the begianing of this letter.

He had not lain long there when he and his companions were tried by a court-martial, and he and another was sentenced to receive 1000 lashes each, to be drummed out of the regiment, and to be delivered over to the civil law. They stood 700 the first time, and as soon as [Page]they were able, they got the remainder, were drummed out of the regiment, and again committed to jail; but the humane gentlemen who fustained the principal loss wishing to decline any further prosecution, they had their choice whether to stand trial, or to join the Queen's Rangers, Botany Bay, or the Royal Americans, Nova Scotia, in either of which latter cases, they were never to return to Great-Britain. The Porcupine made choice of Nova Scotia, and his companion of Botany Bay. After our hero arrived at the place of his choice, he exerted his talents to procure a little cash, with the intention of making off for the United States as soon as possible. In them he arrived in the year 1792, and has lived ever since without any visivle means of procuring an honest livelihood! it is evident, that he must either have stole or been the secret agent of the king his master; I am inclined to believe the latter is his employment, for the wretch hardened in iniquity, who could go to the gallows with composure, shudders as the thought of many year's confinement.

I am the more inclined to believe it, as he has suddenly emerged from his late state of poverty and mise y, and has opened a shop in this city in one of his names; this, however, I have been informed from the best authority, is only a temporary scheme of the servants of our late "most excellent king," to try the pulse of the American people!

[Page]

The variety of names he went under, I have not taken notice of, and one-half the innumberable quantity of crimes he committed, could not be enumerated in the circumscribed bounds of a letter.

Having perused the preceding pages I know how you feel—I know how every honest man must seel at seeing this abandoned wretch, this outcast of society, daring to intersere in the politics of your country, and a [...]ming a dictatorship to your legislators. Let the national vengeance hurl the mercenary into oblivion— LIBERTY, VIRTUE, JUSTICE, REASON, and TRUTH, demand the sacrifice—If it is longer delayed, the error may not be discovered till too late.

I am, &c.

Notes

*

Lord Lansdale

↵

A Postscript to Peter Porcupine.

[Page]

PETER,

HAD the pamphlet which you call your "Life and Adventures," not contained such a multiplicity of falsehoods, which might deceive those who know nothing. of England, although they must be evident to those who have resided there, I would have taken no notice of it. Should you explain the absurdities and reconcile the contradictions hereafter noticed, you may yer redeem character.

After exposing the wretched hovel and the indigence in which your grandfather dwelt, and saying, that all he left behind him was his scythe, his reap-hoop, and his flail, you have the conscience to tell us that your father was a farmer; and a very substantial one he must have been too, for you say that he had dealings with the. London hop-merchants, and mentions his turnip crops, his wheat, his barley, his peas, &c. moreover, your father was a very learned man for his rank (a farmer); he was perfect in several branches of the mathematics; he understood land surveying well, and possessed experience and understanding. These stories will not do, Peter, for instead of raising you, as you wish, in the estimation of the public, they must have an effect the very reverse, because it is [Page]pretty well known, that farms are not so easily acquired in England, and to stock such a one as you say he had would require several hundred pounds sterling, consequently, you must have published a lie, unless your father procured the cash sufficient to teach him what you say he knew, and stock the farm which you say he had, by some means which you have thought proper to hide from the public.

You say your father worked for two-pence a-day, when a boy; now supposing the did so for 8 years, that is, from 8 to 16 years of age, and spent nothing during that time, neither on eating nor drinking, clothing nor lodging, at the end he would have had neatly 24l. 4s.

Having arrived at the age of 16 (which is at least two years before farmer's servants receive full wages) I shall suppose he got man's wages, or 6d. a-day, and that he worked at that rate for 8 years more, or till he was aged 24, which, if he lived as I have supposed he did the first 8 years, would amount to 72l. 16s. Thus your father, if he lived the 16 years he was at work without eating, went naked, and slept without other covering than the canopy of Heaven, would be in possession of the sum of 97l. sterling, not one quarter sufficient to place him in the situation you say he was; besides you say he spent part of his earnings at an evening school, when he attended it he must have had a few rags on; to purchase them, pay the teacher's bills, buy books, &c. would require almost [Page]all his earnings. Now, as your grandfather left nothing of value behind him, how did your father get possession of this farm and stock; or if he had them not, what did you mean by publishing here that he really had them? was you foolith enough to think any one would believe that in England, however cheap things are, a man could acquire such a considerable property honestly, whose annual income never amounted, on an average, to twenty-seven dollars. No, Peter, this is an age of excessive credulity, but not just so bad as you imagine yet.

"How much better would it have been to have told the naked truth," you say your father had property, but how he acquired it you do not mention; your best friends must entertain suspicions, when they read that part of your history. If your father, in the early part of his life made free with his neighbour's property, till he procured sufficient to establish himself as a farmer, you might have mentioned it, it would nor affect your character—chieving is not the sin which the Almighty threatens to visit the third and fourth generation for; and there is little danger to be apprehended for your relations in England, if you have any, seeing you have been so faithful to your sovereign Lord and King.

You had three brothers you say; the eldest was a soop-keeper—the second a farmer, and the third a soldier in the East-India company's service—If you really had a brother a [Page]shopkeeper, why did you not mention in what town or county he resided, or what fort of a shop he kept.—And your farming brother, where did he reside; did he occupy your father's farm or not? Had you mentioned these things, they would have at least given this story the appearance of truth.

But there is no end to your inconsistencies: You say your religion was that of the Church of England, to which you have ever remained attached. Now, what is attachment to religion? Is it only saying you are of that religion, or is it a firm adherence to its creed; if it is the latter why do you say in another place, that at a particular time you would not have listed your pen although your salvation had depended on it! or why do you say the name it bears has attached you to it; if it is the name it cannot be the religion, for if Unitarianism, was to receive that name, by your own words we must believe you would become of that religion, and remain firmly attached to it while it was called by that name, although at present you affect to execrate its adherents.

You say your ancestors were never persecuted for their religious opinions, and consequently had not an oportanity of giving such a singular proof of their faith as Dr. Franklin's grandfather, and yet you tell us at the same time that you never heard of any of your ancestors prior to your grandfather—sure in his day there was no persecution against people of his religious [Page]opinions in England; but what reliance can we place on any thing you advance in your "Life and Adventures," no man can suppose you have wrote the truth, when they read at its beginning, that, had you been Dr. Franklin, you would not have mentioned something that he has done, because it appears to you ridiculous.

I now come to that place where you mention your attempts to become sailor: Here your falsehoods appear really evident; you say, that having gone aboard the Pegasus, and applied to its captain for leave to remain in the fleet, then lying at Spithead, you was denied; that you afterwards applied to the Port-Admiral, but could not prevail with him either. When you was writing this account of your life, you ought to have recollected, that the time you mention was near the conclusion of the American war, that it is pretty well known here, that at that time the navy was in greater want of hands than they have been this war; and yet we well know what shifts they have been put to to man their fleets—we well know that their press-gangs have invaded the peaceful dwellings of many happy families, and carried off their husbands, fathers, and supporters, leaving the mothers and their little ones to perish! —who can then suppose they would refuse an able-bodied volunteer. Have they not set every snare which has been invented to catch the unwary?—I myself have seen bills [Page]which called upon youths who were tired of their teacher's or parents' authority—upon apprentices who were tired of their masters— upon young men, who, from whatever cause, were tired of their then situation—upon debtors who were dunned by their creditors—or husbands who had scolding wives, to appear at the rendezvous and they should receive great bounties.—Has not every county in Great Britain been obliged to furnish a certain number of men both for the army and navy—Nay, have not these dregs of society, who command the piratical vessels of Britain, dragged American sailors from aboard American vessels to man these royal slaughter-houses, forcing them to fight against men whom they love, and against principles which they adore—Would they then refuse an able-bodied English volunteer? —No, Porcupine, had Berkley or Evans, the officers you say you applied to, done so, they would no longer have held commissions under the royal lunatic of England; and if you inserted this, as an evidence of the humanity of British officers, you have likewise missed your aim—monuments of their humanity are to be seen throughout the United States, and it is the theme of conversation from New-Hampshire to Georgia!

I shall pass over the time you say you was a lawyer, and meet you a second time, through excess of loyalty, making an attempt to get into the service of your king; and, indeed, it surprised [Page]me a good deal to read in your history, that his Majesty's officers refused you admission into the service in the time of war, and accepting you immediately on the arrival of peace; I declare it struck me on reading the account, that you may have wished to be in your king's service, though cowardice prevented your entering during the war! I am justified in this supposition, for the pamphlet of your "Life and Adventures" says, you entered into the army, immediately after peace was declared! and left it on the appearance of a war with Spain!

You have, throughout the account of your life and adventures, many touches of the marvelous —the way you say you spent your time in Chatham barracks is not the least so—you acted differently from any British soldier I ever heard of. Writing a fair hand, you say, procured you the honour of being copyest to Colonel Debieg, but pray how came the commandant of the garrison to know you wrote a fair hand, or that you could write at all—What, not in all Chatham barracks could be found one, from serjeant to fifer, but William Cobbet, who could write a fair hand—a pretty picture, indeed, of the British army—the commandant of Chatham was obliged to make a young man, whom nobody knew, who had come to the place and enlisted, no one knowing for what reason, his confident and his copyest. You might have escaped the gallows, you might have been the greatest villain in England, for what Col. Debieg knew. No, my lad, such stories won't do.

[Page]

Talking of an affair between the Duke of Richmond and Col. Debieg, you say, "it ended in the good and gallant colonel being stripped of the reward bestowed on him for his long and meritorious services," and next page tells us, when speaking of the British army, that "there is no situation where merit is so sure to meet with reward." Happy situation, indeed, so, in the British' army, merit is rewarded by raising the object to a higher situation than he could expect, and immediately after stripping him of his reward!

Having gone with your regiment to Nova Scotia, continued there 7 years, and returned without any adventure worth noticing, you say, at your own request, you was discharged; but, good God, of all the wonderful wonders which appear in the course of your life, there is none calculated to excite so hearty a laugh as the concluding clause of a piece you have inserted in it as your discharge from the army: it says, "he, in consideration of his good behahior and the services he has rendered the regiment, is hereby discharged!!!" This is indeed a strange reward for services rendered—Why was you not promoted—"promotion (you say) is the reward of merit in the British army."— No man in his sober senses would, for a moment, suppose that a discharge would be the consequence of good behavior—No, no, Peter, no man will believe that discharge to be authentic, unless they see the original, with Lord [Page]Fitzgerald's seal; I would therefore recommend to you, for the satisfaction of those who doubt your veracity, but would be ashamed to be seen going into your shop, to expose the original in your window.

How foolishly you triumph after producing what you call a copy of your discharge—you assert that your character was good, and hope it will be looked upon as such, down to 1792, that you never was whipt for stealing! and calls upon your readers to recollect that the Aurora has said you wast. Had you possessed the least knowledge or penetration, you would have known, that to deny an assertion will not prove the negative, and that man is prone to believe an assertion the truth of which is barely denied. Not one rogue in a hundred but pleads not guilty, yet his saying he is not guilty never acquits him. Your readers will undoubtedly argue thus, that they know B. F. Bache, who is a respectable citizen, and who has published that Peter Porcupine was fogged for stealing— that William Cobbet, a man of a very doubtful character, who fled from England to France, and there took shipping for America, although he could have got it more convenient and much cheaper in his native country, and who says he is Peter Porcupine, has denied it—now, which of the two are we to believe, the runnaway serjeant-major, whom nobody knows, or Mr. Bache, whom we well know—undoubtedly the latter. But you, Peter, are possessed of more [Page]incontestible proofs than Mr. Bache can be, if you have been flogged, your back will bear witness against you, if not, against Mr. Bache. I would, therefore, recommend to you, for your character's sake, to make public exhibition of your naked back, for two market days, on the balcony at the Old Court-house; after which no one can doubt, as you will give every one an opportunity to have occular demonstration of the truth or falsity of Mr. Bache's assertion.

But, having returned to Old England after seven year's absence, and having left the army, such a dutiful child as you were, who has repented your first disobedience from that moment to this, ought to have gone to see your aged parents or your beloved brothers; but you had forgot them at that time I suppose— had your 8 year's service in the army really bereft you of every filial feeling. What you said respecting your brothers, I supposed all along was false, and that you only inserted it for the purpose of making your family appear a little more respectable, therefore I am not surprized at their being no mention of them on your return. However, being now from the army, where it would be impossible to amass a single farthing, I would like to know how you was able to procure a change from your regimentals, or to obtain a livelihood—these principal things you have omitted—should you ever have occasion to print a second edition of your life and adventures, but I am much afraid you never [Page]will, do, for your own credit, pay a little attention to these remarks.

To free you from the imputations of garret-scribbling and night-work, you appeal to the ladies if you had time, for in the course of these three months you got married; sure that would not stop you, I have heard often of soldiers procuring wives in one night's time.

After living three months in England on nothing, or rather procuring subsistence for yourself and family during that time in an unknown manner, (for you have not assurance to say you either saved money in the army, or married a lady of forturne,) you went to France, and continued ther upwards of six months more without doing any thing, which you have thought proper to publish—pray, did the amiable she-porcupine accompany you?

You say that excepting those who were already blasted with the principles of the accursed revolution, you found the people in in France honest, pious, and kind to excess; but how can you reconcile this with what almost immediately follows, where you say that your coming to this country was in consequence of your having imbibed principles of republicanism, and an ambition to become a citizen of these free states—You had imbibed notions of republicanism so early as 1791, yet you called the revolution in France accursed, which at that period, had no other object in view, than securing to the people all the liberty that [Page]can be expected under a limited monarch. At the period you was in France, and could obseve the change that had took place among the people, in consequence of their attachment to the principles of the accursea revolution, the person of the purjured Louis was held more sacred, than that of your beloved sove-George is at present by your beloved country-men—You left England to come to America because the people here enjoyed more liberty than those in Old England, and yet, since you have been here, those whose wisdom and courage procured that liberty to America, and those who have attempted to perpetuate it, have been the constant objects of your malice and your railery, while the same men and same government, whose every effort was used to prevent the independence of these states have been the subjects of your admiration. Thus we must suppose either that you lied when you said you had imbibed principles of republicanism, or that you do not write from principle but for guineas: What, had the Scare-Crow frightened you? Did you expect that a deserved punishment was likely to fall on your guillotine worthy head, that you hurried out a pamphlet to stop the axe, by publishing abroad that "you had imbibed principled of republicanism."

Again you say, your determination to settle in the United States was formed before you left the army, and as you left the army immediately [Page]on its arrival in England, it must have been formed when in Nova-Scotia: Now as you was discharged, you say, at your own request, I should suppose it would have saved you a good deal of money to have requested your discharge in America; it was a curious road to go from Nova-Scotia to the United States by England and France—Had you gone to England for the purpose of seeing your parents, brothers, or other relations which you say you had there, it would have been praiseworthy; but instead of that you make no more mention of them, in this part of your account of your life than if you had never known them. Can I call it an oversight? No, for you have been very careful to mention things which were not of such moment; I must therefore suppose that the account at the beginning of your life was false, and that you know not where you was brought up.

You lest England because you heard the king was dethroned—a tyrant who had been guilty of spilling the blood of thousands, and who had broke the most solemn engagements; this is unacountable in one who, before that had imbibed the principles of republicanism, but tis more unaccountable to hear you who fied from your native country because it was not so free as this—who fled from under the protection of the "best of governments," from the limited government of that sovereign madman whose mental "abilities would not fit him for [Page]the office of parish conslable," because you was ambitious of becoming a citizen of this republic, telling that another nation never can be happy but under an absolute monarchical government.

Before I leave you, I would just wish to inquire what you did in France, Holland, &c. for so long a time, and why you did not go to England to take shipping, when you determined to leave Europe. Your native country was so near, the passage so much cheaper, vessels for America always sailing from its various ports, and to have the pleasure of spending a few days amongst ones country men and friends, would be objects of the first magnitude with any one who durst be seen in their native land. I therefore am of opinion, that your leaving England was not a matter of chuce! but to prevent an interview with certain Bow-street runners—to return would consequently be imprudent.

In short, by your own account, you knew knothing of your ancestors prior to your grandfather, who was a day-labonrer, and died as poor as he lived—your father was a very learned man, and possessed an extensive farm, yet you run off from him to serve your king—one of your brothers was a merchant, and one a soldier in the East India Company's service!— another a farmer, and you a soldier in the British army! from whence you was discharged on account of your services and good behaviour! [Page]and then you became as fortunate as your fat [...], for you got plenty of money secretly. You yet repent your first disobedience, but did not think proper to visit your honoured aged parents [...] [...]thers, after so long an absence from your native country! After being three months in England, you went to France, continued there six months, and then came to America, where you have been four years more, without being employed in any way by which could acquire more than a daily subsisisience, and yet you have paid 1200 dollars in advance for house-rent, and furnished your house and shops, which would at least amount to double that sum!

These are strange and unaccountable things, which every man who reads must notice.

Yours, D.D.

ELEGANT AND COPIOUS HISTORY OF FRANCE.

[Page]

THE FIRST SIX NUMBERS Of this very valuable and highly interesting work are now ready for delivery, Embellished with Elegant Engravings, PRICE ONLY THREE-SIXTEENTHS OF A DOLLAR EACH.

Subscriptions received by A. & J. G. Henderson, the publishers, at Messrs. Bioren & Madan's printing-office, back of No. 77, Dock-street, and by the principal booksellers.

Information about this book

Title statement

The adventures of a Porcupine; or, The villain unmask'd: being the genuine memoirs of a notorious rogue lately in the British Army, and ci-devant member of an extensive light-fingered association in England. : Containing a narrative of the most extraordinary and unexampled depravity of conduct perhaps ever exhibited to the world. In a letter to a young gentleman in New-York. : [One line of quotation] : To which is added, a postscript to Peter Porcupine; being remarks on a pamphlet lately published by him, entitled, his "Life and adventures." / By Daniel Detector. ; [One line of quotation] ; Embellished with a likeness of the Porcupine.

Henderson, A., fl. 1796.

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI :

Date

2009-04.

ID [DLPS]

N23115

ID [TCP]

N23115

ID [STC]

Evans 30553

ID [NOTIS]

APY9527

ID [IMAGE-SET]

30553

ID [EVANS-CITATION]

99037115

Availability

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early American Imprints, 1639-1800 ; no. 30553.

Notes

(Evans-TCP ; no. N23115)

Transcribed from: (Readex Archive of Americana ; Early American Imprints, series I ; image set 30553)

Images scanned from Readex microprint and microform: (Early American imprints. First series ; no. 30553)

Source

— The adventures of a Porcupine; or, The villain unmask'd: being the genuine memoirs of a notorious rogue lately in the British Army, and ci-devant member of an extensive light-fingered association in England. : Containing a narrative of the most extraordinary and unexampled depravity of conduct perhaps ever exhibited to the world. In a letter to a young gentleman in New-York. : [One line of quotation] : To which is added, a postscript to Peter Porcupine; being remarks on a pamphlet lately published by him, entitled, his "Life and adventures." / By Daniel Detector. ; [One line of quotation] ; Embellished with a likeness of the Porcupine., Henderson, A., fl. 1796..

Extent

47, [1] p., [1] leaf of plates : ill. ; 21 cm. (12mo)

Printed for, and sold by A. & J.G. Henderson; also, by the different booksellers.,. Philadelphia, :: September, 1796.. (Attributed to A. Henderson by Evans and Gaines. Peter Porcupine is the pseudonym used by William Cobbett.) (Publisher's advertisement, p. [48].)

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Users should be aware of the process of creating the TCP texts, and therefore of any assumptions that can be made about the data.

Text selection was based on the New Cambridge Bibliography of English Literature (NCBEL). If an author (or for an anonymous work, the title) appears in NCBEL, then their works are eligible for inclusion. Selection was intended to range over a wide variety of subject areas, to reflect the true nature of the print record of the period. In general, first editions of a works in English were prioritized, although there are a number of works in other languages, notably Latin and Welsh, included and sometimes a second or later edition of a work was chosen if there was a compelling reason to do so.

Image sets were sent to external keying companies for transcription and basic encoding. Quality assurance was then carried out by editorial teams in Oxford and Michigan. 5% (or 5 pages, whichever is the greater) of each text was proofread for accuracy and those which did not meet QA standards were returned to the keyers to be redone. After proofreading, the encoding was enhanced and/or corrected and characters marked as illegible were corrected where possible up to a limit of 100 instances per text. Any remaining illegibles were encoded as <gap>s. Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor.

The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines.

Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements).

Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site.