1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Heist

by Jane Austen

Posted by Jane Austen on 10 June 1810

My Dear Cassandra,

You shall not believe the extraordinary occurrences which have transpired of late, and it is with a mixture of amusement and trepidation that I recount to you my rather unexpected involvement in what the papers have dubbed the "Clerkenwell Diamond Heist."

You may recall my visit to London was intended to be a tranquil sojourn, filled with the comforts of the city and the pleasures of society. However, fate, it seems, had quite another design for me.

It began one crisp morning as I strolled through the bustling streets of Clerkenwell, my thoughts wandering towards nothing in particular. Suddenly, a gentleman of hurried demeanour and furtive glances accosted me, mistaking me, it seems, for an associate in a most nefarious scheme. His garbled speech and desperate eyes spoke of stolen jewels, clandestine meetings, and imminent peril. I, naturally, was taken aback but could not help but feel a curious blend of intrigue and dread.

Seeing no immediate escape and driven by a perverse sense of adventure, I decided to play along, if only to glean more of this bizarre misapprehension. I soon found myself in the company of an eccentric band of characters—each one a player in this elaborate plot to purloin a cache of diamonds from a wealthy merchant.

You might well imagine the bewilderment and amusement that accompanied my every step. With each moment, the absurdity of my situation grew more palpable. The leader, a charismatic rogue by the name of Mr. Barrow, mistook my silence for cunning and my bemusement for strategic acumen. Thus, I was appointed the unlikely role of "mastermind" behind this outrageous caper.

Despite my internal protests and numerous attempts to extricate myself from their company, it was all in vain. Mr. Barrow’s confidence in my supposed ingenuity was unwavering. At length, I resigned myself to observe their folly, noting every absurd detail with the meticulousness of a novelist documenting a scene.

The heist itself was an affair of remarkable ineptitude, worthy of the most humorous farce. The plan, if it could be called such, was executed with a comedic clumsiness that would not have been out of place in a stage play. At the crucial moment, just as the diamonds were within our grasp, the bungling of our compatriots and the timely arrival of the local constabulary brought the entire scheme to an ignominious end.

I was, quite expectedly, apprehended along with the rest. However, upon revealing my true identity and protesting my innocence with as much dignity as one could muster under such circumstances, I was released posthaste. The officers, it seemed, found the notion of a gentlewoman novelist orchestrating such a crime to be utterly preposterous. I was permitted to depart, with a stern warning to steer clear of further entanglements with criminal enterprises.

And so, my dear sister, I find myself safely returned, albeit with a tale more fantastical than any fiction I might contrive. The absurdity of the events and the sheer serendipity of my involvement in such a melodrama will surely provide ample material for future literary endeavors. Rest assured, I remain quite content to leave the world of crime to those far more suited to its perils and pitfalls.

Yours affectionately,

Jane