in the
morning; it extended about eight miles in length, from Hall-green to
Erdington, and four in breadth, of which Birmingham was part. The
shaking of the earth continued about five seconds, with unequal
vibration, sufficient to awake a gentle sleeper, throw down a knife
carelessly reared up, or rattle the brass drops of a chest of drawers. A
flock of sheep, in a field near Yardley, frightened at the trembling,
ran away.--No damage was sustained.

PITMORE AND HAMMOND.

Thomas Pitmore, a native of Cheshire, after consuming a fortune of
700_l_. was corporal in the second regiment of foot; and John Hammond,
an American by birth, was drummer in the thirty-sixth; both of
recruiting parties in Birmingham.

Having procured a brace of pistols, they committed several robberies in
the dark, on the highways.

At eight in the evening of November 22, 1780, about five hundred yards
short of the four mile-stone, in the Coleshill road, they met three
butchers of Birmingham, who closely followed each other in their return
from Rugby fair. One of the robbers attempted the bridle of the first
man, but his horse, being young, started out of the road, and ran away.
The drummer then attacked the second, Wilfred Barwick, with "Stop your
horse," and that moment, through the agitation of a timorous mind,
discharged a pistol, and lodged a brace of slugs in the bowels of the
unfortunate Barwick, who exclaimed, "I am a dead man!" and fell.

The corporal instantly disappeared, and was afterwards, by the light of
the show upon the ground, seen retreating to Birmingham. The drummer ran
forwards about forty yards, and over a stile into Ward-end field. A
fourth butcher of their company, and a lad, by this time came up, who,
having heard the report of a pistol, seen the flash, and the drummer
enter the field, leaped over the hedge in pursuit of the murderer. A
frey ensued, in which the drummer was seized, who desired them not to
take his life, but leave him to the laws of his country.

Within half an hour, the deceased and the captive appeared together in
the same room, at the Horse-shoe. What must then be the feelings of a
mind, susceptible of impression by nature, but weakly calloused over by
art? This is one instance, among many, which shews us, a life of
innocence, is alone a life of happiness.

The drummer impeached his companion, who was perhaps the most guilty of
the two, and they were both that night lodged in the dungeon.

Upon