«^\\N\\\\\\v* 
 
 
LIBRARY 
 
 I UNIVERSITY Of 
 V CAUFOtlf 
 
 f&& 
 
Page 1. 
 
LIVES AND EXPLOITS 
 
 OF 
 
 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN, 
 
 PIRATES, AND ROBBERS; 
 
 DRAWN FROM THE MOST AUTHENTIC SOURCES, 
 
 By Capt. CHARLES JOHNSON, 
 
 WITH ADDITIONS 
 
 By C. WHITEHEAD, Esq. 
 
 " Little villains oft submit to Fate, 
 That great ones may enjoy the world in state." 
 
 LONDON : 
 PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS. 
 
 1883. 
 
LOAN STACK 
 
HV 
 Lite 
 W5"5 
 
 Mi 
 
 PREFACE. MPtlti 
 
 He alone is a truly brave man, who, being powerful, thinks 
 it disgraceful to insult the feeble : many who pass for brave in 
 the estimation of the world, are yet cowardly enough to com- 
 mit base and barbarous actions : what else can be said of those, 
 who possessing strength of mind and vigour of body, employ 
 their faculties to rob and oppress the weak and ignorant ? It 
 is an easy matter to assume the semblance of fortitude and re- 
 solution; but few, very few, are the individuals who really 
 possess those noble qualities : particularly such hardened vil- 
 lains whose lives and exploits are so faithfully recorded in the 
 following work. 
 
 In presenting to the public a new edition of the " Lives ol 
 English Highwaymen, Pirates, and Robbers," the editor is 
 tempted to indulge in a few more observations which, uncalled 
 for, perhaps, by those who seek in a book of this nature for 
 amusement alone, are nevertheless not misplaced or unimpor- 
 tant, when it is remembered that the utility of the work is to 
 be vindicated, and its object to be approved. 
 
 It is incumbent on the Author or Editor of a book to indicate 
 the aim and end of his performance ; hence the necessity for 
 a preface. It is the privilege of the reader (a privilege, we 
 fear, confirmed by custom) to pass it over without perusal j — 
 hence its inutdity. 
 
 587 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 It may be well, in the first place, to offer a short account of 
 the literary fate of the various characters who figure in the 
 succeeding pages. In the year 1711? Captain Alexander Smith 
 put forth a small volume, containing the " Lives of Noted 
 Highwaymen, Robbers, Thieves and Pickpockets," who had 
 flourished during his own period of existence. The demand 
 for this volume was so great as to induce the Captain to present 
 his readers with a second, and subsequently with a third, 
 volume. These latter volumes having been got together for 
 the purpose of supplying the appetite of an excited public, 
 were made up of the biographies of way-side heroes, and round- 
 house rogues, upon whom justice has long since laid her inevi- 
 table fingers ; together with a few of his own time, whom the 
 Captain, during the preparation of his first volume, had either 
 overlooked or had deemed unworthy of commemoration. The 
 lives contained in the second and third volumes were, accord- 
 ingly, disposed without the slightest regard to chronological 
 arrangement or biographical propriety. 
 
 After the lapse of a few years, Captain Charles Johnson, 
 having previously published " Lives of English Pirates," turned 
 a magnetic eye towards the labours of Captain Alexander 
 Smith ; and, converting them to his proper use, introduced 
 his own pirates to the highwaymen, thieves, and pickpockets 
 of the other, and with very few additions of his own, and with- 
 out any sensible or intelligible transposition of the order in 
 which they had formerly appeared, published the whole in one 
 folio volume. 
 
 From this performance, our object has been to select the 
 best and the most important lives; excluding, for the most part, 
 the meaner pickpocket, and the as yet uneducated thief, arrang- 
 
PREFACE. VI! 
 
 ing them as nearly as possible in chronological succession, and 
 adding such subsequent lives as bring down the work nearly 
 to the present period. 
 
 We have, we confess, restricted ourselves, with a few excep- 
 tions, to a notice of English pirates and highwaymen. The 
 former, by reason of the increased severity of our laws against 
 piracy, have of late years almost disappeared from the face of 
 the blue waters ; and the latter, partly from the circumstance 
 that highway robbery is no longer a profitable trade, in conse- 
 quence of our paper currency and banking system, but chiefly 
 from the establishment of an efficient patrole, have become 
 altogether extinct. 
 
 We wish, therefore, the present work to be considered, not 
 in the light of a mere calendar of crime, but as a collection of 
 biographies of two distinct classes of persons, interesting in 
 themselves, and displaying actions and adventures which are 
 never likely to be performed in this country, or by the natives 
 of this island again. 
 
 There is another reason (of itself a sufficient one) why we 
 have left the undisciplined pickpocket and the common thief 
 of former days to travel to oblivion without impaling them on 
 our biographical pen ; they are so completely outdone in inge- 
 nuity, skill, extent of resources, and fertility of invention, by 
 the more accomplished professors of the present day. It may 
 be both interesting and important to preserve the adventures 
 of the bold and enterprising highwayman ; but we conceive that 
 the petty details of the mean and dastardly pickpocket, or the 
 miserable minutiae of wretched baseness on the part of our mo- 
 thief, are more appropriately relinquished to the pages of 
 the Newgate Calendar, and, perhaps, perused with the most 
 
V1 " PREFACE. 
 
 intense interest in the instantaneous chronicle of the daily news 
 paper. 
 
 It is maintained by a few well-disposed, but, we cannot help 
 thinking, mistaken persons, that works of this nature, laying 
 open, as they do, scenes of depravity and of almost unparal- 
 leled wickedness, are calculated, by rendering vice more visible, 
 to weaken the abhorrence with which it should be regarded. 
 They urge, or appear to do so, that while villainy is kept out 
 of sight, it cannot very well enter into the mind ; and yet, with 
 a philosophical and religious faith in the inherent goodness of 
 human nature, they also believe it so prone to evil that you have 
 only to mention vice to endanger virtue, and that the former 
 is never so irresistible as when she appears to us in her own 
 person. 
 
 It may be true, although poetical, that " beauty unadorned 
 is adorned the most," but we are not aware that vice is beau- 
 tiful, or that she participates in the same dishabille advantages 
 as beauty. On the contrary, it is more popularly believed, 
 that — 
 
 " Vice is a monster of such hideous mien. 
 As, to be hated, needs but to be seen." 
 
 The verification of which, if true, cannot be better ascertained 
 than through the effect produced by the perusal of the follow- 
 ing work, in which her " hideous mien" is plainly enough to 
 be discerned, even by the weakest optics or the most oblique 
 vision. In truth, vice is never dangerous except when she 
 comes disguised in the semblance of virtue ; and the " falsi' 
 Duessa" ceases to be attractive immediately her disenchantment 
 is completed. She is not loved or followed for her own sake, 
 but for the sake of virtue, whom she, to the unpurged eye, 
 
 
PREFACE. IX 
 
 resembles; and if we wanted one further evidence of the essen- 
 tial goodness of human nature, m spite of its weaknesses am* 
 its follies, we should find it in the universal execration and - 
 horrence with which confessed and open wickedness is de- 
 nounced by mankind. 
 
 We contend, then, that not only is there nothing in th 
 following pages that can for a moment be supposed to endange. 
 the most elastic principle, but that a perusal of this work can- 
 not fail to conduce to the service of morality, in the confirma- 
 tion and strengthening of worthy and stable principles of 
 integrity. 
 
 It is impossible to dwell upon recitals of this nature, involv- 
 ing the conduct and character of so many individuals, of all 
 degrees of talent, from the highest to the lowest — some sin- 
 ning, perhaps, through original and blindest ignorance — others 
 committing crimes, in spite of their better knowledge, and in 
 defiance of their own conscience, — and all (with very few excep- 
 tions) coining to a disgraceful and untimely end — without rising 
 from the perusal with the conviction that, looking upon religion 
 and morality with Dr. Paley's eye of expediency alone, not 
 only is honesty the best, but it is the sole policy, 
 
 With these remarks, we leave this book to the indulgent 
 consideration of our readers. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 JP-vfi 
 
 Robin Hood 1 
 
 Thomas Dun 17 
 
 Sir Gosselin Denville 21 
 
 Sawney Beane 23 
 
 Thomas Wynne 26 
 
 Thomas Witherington 28 
 
 James Batson 33 
 
 John Cottington, called " Mulled Sack" 42 
 
 Captain James Hind 45 
 
 Gilder Roy, called " The Bonnie Boy" 56 
 
 Captain Philip Stafford 62 
 
 Claude du Vail 67 
 
 Captain Dudley 73 
 
 Jonathan Simpson 83 
 
 William Davis, called *' The Golden Farmer" 84 
 
 William Nevison 89 
 
 William Cady 95 
 
 Patrick O'Brian 100 
 
 Thomas Rumbold 102 
 
 Thomas Simpson, called '« Old Mob" 115 
 
 JohnBird 123 
 
 Thomas Cox 126 
 
 Colonel Jack 129 
 
 Captain Howard 156 
 
 Nathaniel Havves 161 
 
 Tom Rowland and Frank Osborn 165 
 
 James Whitney 168 
 
 The Waltham Blacks 175 
 
 Timothy Buckeley 181 
 
 Thomas Jones 183 
 
 Arthur Chambers 185 
 
 JohnOvet 190 
 
 Captain Evans 192 
 
 Thomas Dorbel 195 
 
 Dick Adams 197 
 
 William Gettings, called " the Hereford Boy 201 
 
 Edward Bonnet i 203 
 
 Richard Keele 208 
 
 Will Ogden and Tom Reynolds 210 
 
 John Price 212 
 
X1J CONTENTS. 
 
 Joseph Blake 215 
 
 Jack Shepherd , 217 
 
 Jonathan Wild 221 
 
 Richard Turpin 223 
 
 Henry Cook 235 
 
 Henry Simms, called " Young Gentleman Harry" 237 
 
 James Maclaine 247 
 
 Eugene Aram 259 
 
 George Barrington 273* 
 
 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 Sir Henry Morgan 291 
 
 Captain Avery 303 
 
 Captain Martel 312 
 
 Captain Teach, called " Blackboard" 314 
 
 Captain Charles Vane 323 
 
 Captain John Rackam 328 
 
 Captain Edward England 331 
 
 Captain Davis 346 
 
 Captain Roberts 354 
 
 Captain Kennedy 363 
 
 Captain Worley 306 
 
 Captain Lowther 308 
 
 Captain Spriggs , 373 
 
 Captain Roche 375 
 
 Captain Gow 377 
 
 Captain Upton. 379 
 
 Captain Edward Low 380 
 
 Paul Jones 385 
 
AUTHENTIC MEMOIRS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 LIVES AND EXPLOITS 
 
 OF 
 
 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN, 
 
 PIRATES, AND ROBBERS. 
 
 Of the robbers and highwaymen of ancient times, history fur. 
 nishes us with but few examples, and with fewer facts ; we have 
 however deemed it expedient, as a collection of biographical sketches, 
 like the present, might be considered imperfect, without some no- 
 tice of them, to present our readers with such accounts as we have 
 been able to glean from authentic sources of those who appear to 
 have been the " most celebrated in their vocation;" and by so do- 
 ing form a perfect chronological biography of men, whose calling, 
 in this country at least, is now happily extinct, and whose crimes 
 and excesses, have been met with the universal execration and ab- 
 horrence of mankind, and now only serve " to point a moral or 
 adorn a tale." 
 
 The earliest of these worthies who bore the enviable title, and of 
 whom we have any authentic account, was the renowned outlaw of 
 " merry Sherwood forest," 
 
 ROBIN HOOD, 
 
 of whose predatory exertions of power, — enrichment of the poor 
 by the plunder of the wealthy, — defiance of kings, magistrates, and 
 judges, let the ballads of his own time speak. 
 
 It appears that he was born at Locksley, in Nottinghamshire, a 
 
 place no longer in existence, about the year 1160, in the reign of 
 
 X/iftg Henry II. and is reputed to have been Earl of Huntingdon, 
 
 a title to which, it is said, he had no small pretension. There is 
 
 B 
 
ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 no doubt but that his lineage was noble, and his true name Robert 
 Fitzooth, which a pliant commentator conjectures was easily cor- 
 rupted by vulgar pronunciation into Robin Hood. 
 
 In his youth he U stated to have been of an extravagant and law- 
 less disposition, and, having dissipated his inheritance, insomuch 
 that it had become forfeited, and being in the predicament of out- 
 lawry for debt, he sought an asylum in the woods, and levied con- 
 tributions on the wealthy passenger who might chance to traverse 
 his self-granted territories. 
 
 In these forests, of which he chiefly inclined to Barnsdale"in 
 Yorkshire, Sherwood in Nottinghamshire, and Plompton Park in 
 Cumberland, he reigned for many years, with all the authority, iJ 
 not in all the splendour, of a legitimate sovereign ; and his subjects, 
 in process of time, amounted to the number of a hundred archers, 
 " men most skilful in battle, whom four times that number of the 
 boldest fellow r s durst not attack." 
 
 The royal forests at that period abounded with deer, and, conse- 
 quently, afforded to Robin Hood and his retainers a sufficient sup- 
 ply of provender during the year; and it is apparent that there 
 could be no lack of fuel for the purpose of dressing their venison. 
 Henry II., however, determining to punish him, for making such 
 rueful havoc among his fat bucks, had him formally accused and 
 summoned bold Robert to court, to answer the charge The Earl, 
 however, preferred the company of his own good fellows, to that of 
 the King's courtiers ; and refused to obey the mandate. Upon this, 
 Henry dispatched an armed force to bring him in, alive or dead. 
 The Earl met his enemy most gallantly, and his archers galled the 
 King's men so much with their first flight, that they fronted about 
 towards London, and marched home as speedily as their wounds 
 would allow them. This was deemed rank treason ; and the Karl 
 was forthwith declared an outlaw. 
 
 At this time, it was rumoured at court, that Huntingdon was about 
 to lead to the altar, Matilda, the daughter of Lord Fitzwater — as 
 brave a wench as ever brushed dew from green sward — who had been 
 Robert's companion from her childhood ; and, since she had been 
 able to bend a bow, had shone by his side in the King's chase*, 
 outragingthe forest laws with almost as great audacity as her favorite 
 Fitz-Ooth himself. The King thought this would be on excellent 
 opportunity of waylaying the Earl, and appointed young Sir Rabh 
 Montfauqon, with a chosen troop, to perform the service. 
 
 The youthful Knight divided his men into equal numbers, and 
 dispatching his Lieutenant with one half to seize upon the Castle 
 
ROBIN HOOD i 
 
 of Locksley, which he knew would be but ill-guarded while the 
 Earl was away at the wedding, with the remainder he proceeded, 
 to the place where the ceremony was to be performed. 
 
 Robert and Matilda stood before the altar, and the sleek and rosy- 
 Abbot had already begun to officiate, when a thundering noise was 
 heard at the gate, and the iron tread of a number of soldiers soon 
 rung upon the marble floor. It was Sir Ralph and his troop. 
 Striding up to the altar, the Knight placed his drawn sword between 
 the youthful lovers, and exclaimed, " In the King's name, I for- 
 bid this marriage; and do attach thee, Robert Fitz-Ooth, as a false 
 traitor ! — Yield thee !" The Earl's sword was Irawn in an instant; 
 he struck down Sir Ralph's weapon, clasped Matilda in his arms, 
 and after warmly kissing her lips, commended her to her father's 
 care. " We must part awhile, my sweet Maud," said he, " but 
 we shall meet again. Although the ceremony be incomplete, hence- 
 forth, I would have thee bear thyself as the bride of Fitz-Ooth." 
 fle then made a sign to his followers, and commenced a furious 
 attack upon the soldiers, hoping to cut his way through them ana 
 escape. A desperate skirmish ensued. The King's men stood it 
 bravely; but Robert, with the aid of his good sword, and backed 
 by his bold adherents, fought forward to the chapel-door; then, 
 retreating with his men to an eminence, he exchanged his sword 
 for a bow and quiver, and did such execution among the pursuer* 
 that they soon thought proper to desist. 
 
 King Henry was sorely grieved at the Earl's having thus evaded 
 him ; and swore, in his wrath, that the castle and lands of Locksley, 
 which Sir Ralph's Lieutenant had seized, should be the reward of 
 that man who could bring in the Earl. Upon this, Sir Ralph, who 
 had been suddenly smitten with the beauty of fair Matilda, and 
 thought that the possession of Locksley castle would certainly be 
 a passport to old Fitzwater's favor, which was one step towards that 
 of his daughter, began to collect men again. He soon mustered 
 a chosen band of followers, and started in high spirits towards the 
 haunts of the outlaw. He beat up all the country round the Ouse 
 and Trent, but without the least success. His followers fell off by 
 degrees, and, at length, he was left with only a single squire to 
 pursue his adventures. 
 
 The nexUnorning they rode forth to the green to see the sports 
 of Gamwell Feast. While the Knight was yet enjoying the delici- 
 ous odour of the gathered flowers with which the place was bedecked, 
 he perceived a flutter in the assembly, and every eye suddenly turned 
 in one direction. He looked round and beheld a fair lady in green 
 
4 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN 
 
 and gold, riding up under the trees, accompanied by a stout and 
 strong Friar in grey, and several fair damsels and gay youths. The 
 lady had a quiver by her side, and bore a bow and arrow in her hand. 
 Her hair might vie with the glossy black of the raven's wing; it 
 curled up like clusters of dark grapes under her round hat, which 
 was surmounted by a plume of feathers that lay down as if habitu- 
 ally borne back by the wind, Sir Ralph, on their nearer approach, 
 recognized the fair Matilda Fitzwater, and her ghostly adviser and 
 companion, Friar Michael, whom he had seen at the Abbey, on 
 the morning of the fray between his men and the followers of Fitz- 
 Ooth. 
 
 A number of foresters, equipped in trim dresses of Lincoln green, 
 came up in another direction, and hearty greetings ensued between 
 the new comers and the Gamwells. Matilda was crowned Queen 
 of May ; a hogshead was set abroach, and the hot logs soon began 
 to crackle under the buck haunches which the foresters had brought 
 to regale themselves and their friends upon. The sports of the feast 
 commenced, and after many games and pastimes, the trial of arch- 
 ery ensued. A golden arrow and the hand of the May Queen in 
 the dance were to be the conqueror's rewards. Sir Ralph obtained 
 a bow and arrows from young Gamwell, but was outshot by the 
 whole of the foresters ; and had the mortification to see one of them 
 lodge his arrow's head in the golden circle, and receive the prize 
 from the beautiful Matilda. The lady was then led forth by the 
 successful archer and invited to try her skill. Sir Ralph could not 
 but most deeply admire the surprising grace of her attitude, as, 
 gently curving her fine figure and taking her station, she drew the 
 arrow to its head, and, loosening it with a motion that gave a slight 
 flutter to her plumes and ringlets, lodged it side by side in the cir- 
 cle with that of the forester. The youth then led her to the dance, 
 and Sir Ralph gazed on her fascinating charms until he began to 
 feel most severely the pangs of baffled love and jealousy. Turning 
 his eyesfora moment on the forester's face, hediscoveredlineaments, 
 with which he felt that he had been before acquainted. On perusing 
 them more attentively, he was confirmed in his suspicions. Ap- 
 proaching young Gamwell, he asked him if he knew the forester 
 who was dancing with the May Queen. " Yes," replied Gamwell, 
 __ " I do j — his name is Rob." " He is Huntingdon, the Outlaw, 
 and would be a prize worth taking ;" said Sir Ralph, " do you think 
 your fellows would assist ?" — " Aye— one side or the other."—" But 
 which, think you?"—" That you will find, an* you try."—" I have 
 the King's warrant to take this man— how should I act, think you ?" 
 
ROBIN HOOD. 5 
 
 — " I would counsel thee as a friend, Sir Knight, to take thyself 
 off as quietly as thou well canst ; for wert thou better backed than 
 thou hast ever yet been, here, in such a cause as the taking of yon- 
 der green forester, you would get nought but bruised ribs and bro- 
 ken skull. To say nought of old Sir Guy of Gamwell and his 
 yeomen, nor the foresters yonder, there is the May Queen can 
 fence, and draw the bow, and handle the stick and staff, all in most 
 dainty perfection ; that Friar is a match for as many men as there 
 are feet in his oak staff, and, methinks, it's a full cloth yard above 
 his sconce as it stands/' 
 
 Sir Ralph, on hearing this, deemed it prudent to keep himself 
 quiet ; and stealing off the first opportunity, he hurried to Notting- 
 ham, and there demanded an armed force of the Sheriff, charging 
 him, nomine regis, to assist in capturing tha Outlaw. After some 
 little delay, a body of fifty picked men were accoutred for the en- 
 terprize, and with Sir Ralph and the Sheriff at their head, marched 
 away towards Gamwell Hall. 
 
 " By the mass, Sir Knight," quoth the Sheriff as they rode along, 
 " I'll wager an acre of the best land in my keeping, that this out- 
 law — this fellow that was once Earl of Huntingdon, is now the very 
 rogue Robin — Robin Hood, as he is called, that abides here in 
 Sherwood Forest, with a troop of forest blades in Lincoln Greens 
 who take toll of all comers. I have fallen into perils, times not 
 to be numbered, in striving to take him. Sir, he kills the King's 
 deer, and robs all wealthy travellers on the road, with a grace 
 and courtesy not to be surpassed. More especially delighteth he 
 in spoiling those in authority; Abbots or Bishops are sweet prey to 
 him ; them he robs with infinite glee, and leaves their purses as 
 lean as their bodies are usually fat. Why, Sir, the most grave and 
 saintly Bishop of Hereford, passing hereby lately with his retinue 
 and high selerer, after the collection of divers rents, lit upon a set 
 of seeming peasantry, roasting buck haunches (most monstrous 
 rogues!) on the King's way-side. Incensed at their disloyalty, in 
 regaling their carrion carcases with that flesh which is, by statute 
 limited to the maw of Kings, or their appointees, the Bishop seized 
 the curs, and ordered them to be brought bound here before me at 
 Nottingham. With that, up starts a tall and proper fellow, and 
 with one wind of a bugle-horn, brings up from the green-glades and 
 coverts, sixty fair bowmen, all arrayed in the grass-colored livery of 
 Robin. The very nose of the Bishop waxed pale at first, but when 
 they tied his holy person to a rough beech, it partook of the hue of 
 his enemies' garments, and by degrees, wained again into a dim, 
 
6 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 but steadfast cerulean blue. Sore wrath was he, as you may guess, to 
 be, by these rogues, enforced to say mass for their sins in the green 
 aisles of the forest ; but, strange to say, in despite of his fears, he 
 gorged gloriously on tfc Ar venison ; which, he affirmeth to this day 
 to have been gifted with a flavor surpassing all things he had here- 
 tofore tasted. After grace and good wine, they made him pay for 
 his provision, with the full sum contained in his purse and that of his 
 selerers, enforced him to make the stump of an oak his pallet for the 
 night; and, on the morrow, sent him off with small comfort in his 
 heart, and a rueful rheum in his ghostly eye. The Bishop soon 
 raisedthe country upon Robin, and hunted the mad despoiler of other 
 men's gold into a cot ; whereupon the forester changed clothes with 
 the old woman abiding therein, and the Bishop brought her arrayed 
 in a pair of Sherwood breeches and green doublet to Nottingham in 
 triumph. By the Lord, Sir, in despite of the reverence due to my 
 Lord Bishop and my own shrieval gravity, I could not but trow 
 right lustily at the discovery, and the mutual railing between the old 
 woman and the Lord Bishop. Ha! ha! assure thyself of this, Sir 
 Knight — the Earl of Huntingdon on being despoiled of his Castle, 
 and outlawed, hath turned a gallant thief, as well as a gay forester ; 
 he is the Robin Hood who doeth such deeds hereabouts, as make 
 honest men, who have more coin than courage, turn up their eyes, 
 nuiver in their hose, and double-bar their doors, which were passing- 
 ly well bolted before." 
 
 The Sheriff had scarcely done narrating the adventure of the Lord 
 Bishop with Robin, when he perceived a party approaching an old 
 bridge upon which his nag had just set foot. This party consisted 
 of sweet Maud Fitzwater, with her constant attendants, young Wil- 
 liam Gamwell, of Gamweli Hall, who, it may be as well to notice, 
 was our hero's cousin and best friend, Robin Hood himself, and some 
 half a score of forest lads in their usual array. The Shrieve looked 
 at his fifty men, and thought them such good odds against fifteen, 
 that he forthwith prepared to make an attack. The first arrow from 
 the opposite party, found a home in Sir Ralph's arm, and he was 
 obliged to fall back with an attendant to get it extracted. A flight 
 from all the foresters' bows followed this, which had been aimed by 
 Matilda herself. Friar Michael's staff, after making two or three 
 eddies in the air, fell at last upon the centre of the vortex, which 
 happened to be the Sheriff's pate, and dislodged him from his saddle 
 in a twinkling. Right sturdy were the blows which ensued upon 
 the ribs of Nottingham's sheriff; who, finding the operation unplea- 
 sant, roared lustily for reprieve. This, at length, was granted by 
 
ROBIN HOOD. 
 
 the Friar, at Matilda's intercession, and the Sheriff found himself a 
 prisoner fast locked in the gaunt grasp of a forester, whose iron fin- 
 gers clutched his wrists like felon's manacles. 
 
 The staff of Michael did good service on the pates of many of the 
 Sheriff's force; several flat noses, dislocated shoulders, and peeled 
 sconces, bore testimony to its hardness, and the vigor with which 
 it was handled. After a short fight, the Nottingham men clapped 
 spurs to their horses, and such of them as were lucky enough to es- 
 cape the sword of Robin, the cudgel of Midge the miller, the arrows 
 of Maud and the foresters, and Michael's oaken toy, galloped off 
 towards Nottingham, leaving both their leaders in the hands of those 
 whose capture they had anticipated. 
 
 Matilda drew the arrow from Sir Ralph's arm — bound up the 
 wound with her scarf — told him that she might have lodged the wea- 
 pon in his heart, had she pleased — and, bidding him and the Shrieve 
 never again molest her brave Robin, under pain of shafts more 
 mortally directed, rode off with her party. On approaching Arling- 
 ford Castle, where her father dwelt, she made on towards the gate- 
 way, and Robin, with his friends, bent his course to the Green- 
 wood. 
 
 The next day, a large civil power arrived at Arlingford Castle, 
 and, in the king's name, demanded the body of Matilda Fitzwater, 
 for wounding a Knight on the King's duty, and aiding an outlaw 
 in the resistance and bruising of the Sheriff's power. "Sheriff's 
 pease-pudding," cried the testy old Baron ; " away with you for a 
 set of false lying vagabonds! talk to me of my daughter's wounding 
 — Go your ways, scoundrels, or my long-bows shall be made ready 
 to welcome you." The Baron then brought out his followers : and 
 the civil party, seeing the castle so well defended, deemed it prudent 
 to retire, and journeyed to the neighbouring Abbey, there to de- 
 mand the body of Friar Michael. The Abbot, however, refused to 
 deliver him up, but promised to call a chapter of Monks, and pass 
 such a sentence on him as he might be found to merit. "This will 
 not do," said they. " But it shall do," quoth the Abbot ; " and if it 
 will not do, nothing shallbe done. So, I pray you, Sirs, retire ; or 
 I shall be provoked and lay you under the bitter ban of Holy Mother 
 Church." Terrified at this threat, the party rode off to Gamweli 
 Hall ; where, after a vigorous resistance on the part of Sir Guy and 
 his yeomen, young William Gamweli was taken prisoner, carried 
 to Nottingham, and condemned to gibbet and halter without mercy. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Friar was tried by his peers, the monks and sen- 
 
8 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 tenced to imprisonment and privation from buck's flesh and wine. 
 This Michael could not endure; he roughly remonstrated; the 
 Abbot was positive, and, on Michael's attempting to retire, the 
 monks hemmed him in. Whereupon, Michael lifted up that staff 
 which had done such mischief at the bridge, and beat his dearly be- 
 loved brethren most grievously. After mowing them down right 
 and left, he finished by levelling the Lord Abbot, by a most ortho- 
 dox and right clerkly punch in the paunch from the point of his 
 sapling, and wishing them a hearty " Peace be with you," took his 
 departure for the Greenwood; gave himself wholly up to Robin 
 Hood; and, till the storm should blow over, determined to be a true 
 ^orester. According to the custom of Sherwood, he was baptised «j 
 joining the outlaws with a flask of canary, and was thenceforth call- 
 ed Friar Tuck. 
 
 Little John, after having fought like a true yeoman in defence of 
 young Gam well, followed him aloof towards Nottingham. No soon- 
 er did he hear of his condemnation, than he started like a roebuck 
 towards the wood, and brought the doleful tidings to the haunt of 
 Robin Hood, just as the baptismal of Friar Michael had concluded. 
 Robin resolved, if possible, to rescue his cousin from the noose 
 intended for him by the Sheriff How he sped in his attempt so to 
 do, we shall presently see. 
 
 The Sheriff of Nottingham, albeit still sore with the Friar's 
 bruises, resolved to attend the execution of young Gamwell. Wil- 
 liam was led forth pinioned; his sister and father stood by him at the 
 foot of the ladder in a most melancholy humor; he had refused the 
 proffer of the Shrieve's priest, and tarried for the one whom Little 
 John had promised to provide. After some delay, the holy man ap- 
 proached, under the conduct of John. No sooner had he gained the 
 side of the youth, than, whispering in his ear, he drew forth a bugle 
 and broad sword, threw off his cloak, and appeared a forester in 
 green. With one hand he lifted the bugle to r«s mouth and blew a 
 shrill blast; while, with the other, he cut the cords that bound his cou- 
 sin. Gamwell instantly wrenched a sword from one of the sheriff's 
 men, and he, with old Sir Guy, Little John, and the forester (who, 
 it will be guessed, was Robin Hood himself), kept the sheriff's peo- 
 ple at bay, until a hundred stout lads of the Greenwood, in obedience 
 to the blast of their leader's bugle, ran up to their rescue. After 
 putting to flight the civil power, they hastened towards the forest ; 
 and young Gamwell, deeming his transgression unpardonable, join- 
 ed the outlaws, and was in his turn christened by the renowned name* 
 
ROBIN HOOD. 9 
 
 of Scarlet. Little John abode with him in Sherwood, while olu 
 Sir Guy and his daughter removed for safety sake to a distant seat 
 of the family in Yorkshire. 
 
 About this time, King Henry the Second observeth a most quaint 
 and right dainty chronicler of the doings of Robin Hood, to whom 
 we are somewhat indebted, went to make up his quarrel in the next 
 world with Thomas-a-Becket. Richard ascended the throne, and 
 while he waged war against the Saracens in Palestine, Robin Hood, 
 with his adherents, feasted on his deer, and levied contributions on 
 his lieges in Sherwood. Prince John was now paramount in Eng- 
 land; and happening to see the young heiress of Arlingford, while 
 sojourning in the vicinity of Nottingham, he became, according to 
 tradition, desperately enamoured of her ; and, presuming that it 
 would be taken as an honor to the house of Fitzwater to make its 
 rose his concubine, he dispatched one of his courtiers to solicit the 
 fair person of Matilda, as his leman. The bluff old Baron wanted 
 to slay the messenger outright ; but fair Matilda interceded in his 
 behalf, and he was only tossed in a blanket, and set in the stocks to 
 allay the fever consequent on the pastime ; then ducked most royal ly 
 in the ditch, and set in the stocks again to dry. 
 
 Prince John took a freak into his head to be in a mighty passion 
 aoout this; he vowed to chastise the old Baron's insolence, and to 
 get the lady by force of arms. With this intent, he sat down be- 
 fore the Castle with a chosen band of troops. The first night of 
 his encampment, he was awoke by a horrible clangour close to his 
 tent. The besieged had sallied out, and were at work, pell-mell, 
 among their enemies. A party of foresters had at the same mo- 
 ment attacked his rear. It was evident that the Baron and his 
 people were intent on cutting through the camp, and escaping. 
 Furious at the idea of losing the fairest heart in England, John 
 sallied forth to the very centre of the moil. There he discovered 
 two youths fighting side by side, the one wearing the colours ol 
 Arlingford, the other a bonny suit of Lincoln green. In the 
 slenderest of the two, he recognized Matilda; and gathering some 
 of his stoutest fellows together, he attacked and separated the lady 
 from her companion. " Fair huntress,' said he, " yield thee to 
 me — wilt thou?" — "Win me, if you can," was the reply — "attempt 
 it, if you dare." The words were accompanied with a blow from 
 her baldriclc, which would have cleft the royal pate in twain, bur 
 for the helmet which protected it. Prince John was too courteous 
 to try to harm his lady-love ; but he soon found himself compelled 
 to be on the alert in his own defence. Matilda had slightly tinged 
 
10 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN, 
 
 her blade in his blood twice or thrice, when her sword broke on 
 the ridge of his nose or the edge of his buckler, history saith not 
 which, and she was just on the point of seizure, when some unseen 
 hand dealt the Prince a blow betwixt the shoulders that would have 
 levelled a bullock. 
 
 To this uncivil salutation, John was indebted to that staff which 
 was evermore found in the company of Friar Tuck. That worthy, 
 having thus disposed of the Prince, knocked about his heroes like 
 nine-pins, rescued the lady, and followed the Baron with his men, 
 who were already trooping off with the foresters, a body of whom 
 had, as we said, attacked the royal troops simultaneously with the 
 besieged, towards the heart of Sherwood. • 
 
 Thus ousted from her parental roof, Matilda, with her father's 
 leave, agreed that the ceremony of marriage betwixt herself and 
 the lord of her heart should be completed. Friar Tuck officiated, 
 and Little John fulfilled very satisfactorily the grave function of 
 Clerk. " Now," said Matilda, " I am thy bride, Robin: but 
 though we be wedded, yet we will not bed; the laws of chastity 
 enjoined in Sherwood, neither you nor I will infringe. Let us 
 tarry in patience for awhile. King Richard will, it may be, soon 
 return ; I feel sure he will not only restore my father to Arlingford, 
 but pardon thee, Robin, and make thee Earl of Huntingdon again. 
 Meantime, let us. submit to the accustomed change of name on 
 joining the outlaws of Sherwood. I take no title: I will not be 
 called by courtesy, Countess of Huntingdon until thou art its 
 rightful Earl; neither shall you name me as heretofore, Matilda 
 Fitzwater, nor fair Maud, nor aught else but Maid Marian ; for 
 maid will I be, albeit a bride, while thou art an outlaw." This 
 was agreed to by all parties, and the Baron journied to old Sir 
 Guy Gamwell's, to abide with him till the return of Cceur de Lion 
 brought better days. 
 
 Little John, who was one of his old master's body guard on the 
 journey, on his return to Sherwood, met with a stranger on the 
 borders of the forest, riding along in the most melancholy mood. 
 " Ho! Sir Rueful," cried the page, " turn thee hitherward, thou 
 must go and dine with my master to-day." " And who is he?" 
 asked the stranger. " Robin Hood." " Aye I have heard of him 
 often, and will now see him ; yesterday one of us would have had 
 a broken skin rather than 1 would have budged a hair's-bivadth lor 
 thee; today, do as thou wilt with me." Little John felt interested 
 with the youth's words and appearance, and by degrees wormed 
 out the secret of his melancholy as they went along. He had been 
 
ROBIN HOOD. U 
 
 a favored wooer of a brave wench, until a rich old Knight entered 
 love's lists with him ; and to his rival did the girl's parents assign 
 the prize. 
 
 Little John repeated this story to Robin and Marian, and the 
 youth was presently brought before them and seated by the side of 
 the forest Queen. " How art thou called, gentleyouth?" inquired 
 Marian, "Allan, fair lady," replied the youth. '"Tis Allan-a-dale," 
 grunted sturdy Midge the miller. " I know him — a proper lad, and 
 handles a quarter staff like a true yeoman's son. By the thumb 
 of my grandfather, and draws the long bow right bravely : almost 
 a match for Little John himself — by this cudgel." " Aye, sayest 
 thou so, Midge ?" quoth Robin, " and when is this Knight to be 
 wedded to thy love, lad ?" " To-morrow, at Edmistow Church." 
 " Is she content, think you?" " Not so, indeed, or I would 
 scarce sigh for her — she is enforced to the match." " Then mark 
 thee, Allan, I will prevent it." 
 
 The next day Robin disguised himself as a harper, took little 
 John with him, and went to the wedding. The Bishop and his 
 train were waiting' the arrival of the decrepid bridegroom in the 
 church-porch, when Robin approached them. After he had played 
 an air or two on his harp, to the Bishop's great entertainment, 
 the Knight neared the Church with his intended bride and her 
 friends. " Hark you, Bishop," said Robin, suddenly stopping 
 his minstrelsy ; this is not an equal match ; the man is sixty and 
 the maiden sixteen ; I will not have it completed." " Thou wilt 
 not have it," cried the enraged Knight, " stand by, or I'll break thy 
 bones." " I shall not stand by nor budge unless the bride say you 
 are her chosen one." 
 
 The girl attempted to speak, but her emotions overpowered her, 
 and she burst into tears. " Mark you that,' Bishop !" cried Robin, 
 and he blew a blast that brought up Friar Tuck, Midge, Maid 
 Marian, and Scarlet, and some three-score bowmen in green, with 
 young Allan-a-dale at their head. The Bishop and Clerk were 
 speedily stript of their robes, and Tuck and little John arrayed 
 therein in their stead. The lovers were united with all befitting 
 form ; and leaving the old Knight to rue the loss of the precious 
 jewels in which he had bedecked the bride, young Allan-a-dale 
 tripped lightly away in the company of the foresters. 
 
 It would ill become us, who profess to be historians of Robin 
 Hood, to omit narrating his rencounter with the Friar of Dun- 
 church, whom Robin met one day with a fat buck across his saddle. 
 The Friar did not know Robin, who happened to be a-foot, and 
 
12 ENGLI8H HIGHWAYMEN 
 
 armed with a short quarter-staff only. " How now," quoth Robin, 
 " Sir Priest, what is this the ensample of loyalty you set, to kill 
 the King's deer thus by broad daylight ; nay, and that too within 
 the range of the Sherwood bowmen ; who engross, by the old right 
 of belt and shaft, ail venison which fatteneth beneath the trees 
 whereof they themselves make a canopy ? Should Robin hear of 
 this" — " A pish for Robin Hood," replied the ghostly brother of 
 Dunchurch, " thinkst thou, churl, that one who has appetite for a 
 haunch, and manhood and skill enough to kill the best buck in 
 the range, would quail at the sound of Robin's name, or even the 
 sight of his verdant doublet ? Mass ! I have lived long enough 
 hereabout, to hear of that rogue's doings, and every bold trick of 
 his sets my limbs itching to have a moil with him. He hides him- 
 self deeply in these coverts, or, by St. Botolph, I would have 
 notched his head with cudgel ere this. I shall not die content until 
 I bring down a buck under his nose. Would that I might find 
 grace enough in the eyes of St. Dunstan to cast me in Robin's way, 
 so that I might try if his skill at quarter-staff be such as men repute. 
 By'r lady I would maul him." " Why thou vain churchman," quoth 
 Robin, " hast thou so much self-love in thee as to think thyself a 
 mate for him thou speakest of? Alight, I entreat thee, most reve- 
 rend Friar, and I will teach thee, in some seconds, that I — even I 
 whom thou dost now look upon so contemptuously, will score thy 
 pate in such fashion, that thy own fraternity of Dunchurch shall 
 not know thee again." " What hast thou to wage with me," re- 
 plied the Friar, " provided I do condescend to open thy pipkin — 
 what hast thou to wage with me on the event ? For we of Dunchurch 
 do not toil for nothing." " Here are thirty gold pieces," replied 
 Robin, tossing a purse on the glade, " which I will place against 
 thy horse and buck, that I despoil thee of the power of chewing 
 venison or cygnet — that I ruin thy jaw-bone, encased as it is in fat, 
 within less time than the emptying of a full flask." Upon this, 
 the Friar alighted, and to it they went pell-mell; after a few blows, 
 the Friar, whom Robin found much more expert at handling a staff 
 than he had expected, was stretched on the grass, and bellowed 
 aloud for quarter. Robin then made himself known, took the horse 
 and buck, but in consideration of the address he had shewn in 
 cudgel-playing, invited the Friar of Dunchurch to his haunt, where 
 Tuck so well entertained him, that he abode three days in the 
 Greenwood, and was so loath to depart, that it was not before Tuck 
 who began to look upon him as an intruding rival, threatened him 
 with the flavour of his eight-foot staff, that the Friar of Dunchurch 
 returned to his home. 
 
ROBIN HOOD. 13 
 
 Another of Robin's mad freaks was to go in disguise to a shooting 
 match, which was held near London, where, in the presence of 
 Prince John himself, he bore off the prize of archery from the very 
 flower of the Prince's bowmen ; and although at that time large 
 rewards were offered to any one that would take him, Robin return- 
 ed safe to his Marian and merry men in the Greenwood. There it 
 was not safe to attack him ; for he had by this time, gathered so 
 strong a force of stout archers, that he bade the royal power de- 
 fiance within ten miles of Sherwood. Stow says there were not 
 four hundred taller, braver, or better marksmen in the country ; 
 and thenceforth the Knights of Prince John's court, shewed no 
 disposition to contend with them. 
 
 His old enemy the Sheriff of Nottingham, was now dead, and 
 our hero longed for an opportunity to play some prank on his suc- 
 cessor, who, before his elevation to the Shrieval dignity, had fre- 
 quently endeavoured to do him an ill turn ; and this, as it is said, 
 was the way he contrived to effect his purpose. 
 
 One day, he met with a butcher going to market, and bought his 
 whole cargo, and his mare with it, which came together to about 
 twenty pounds. With these Robin immediately went to market, 
 sold his bargain presently, making such good pennyworths, that 
 all the people thought he had stolen the meat. He then put into an 
 inn at Nottingham, and treated all his customers, to the value of 
 five pounds ; which coming to the Sheriff's ears, who was at the 
 same time in the inn, and taking him to be some prodigal spark of 
 whom he might make something, intruded into his company, and 
 after some short discourse, asked him, if he had any more meat to 
 sell. " Not ready killed," said Robin, " but 1 have two or three 
 hundred head of cattle at home, and a hundred acres of land to 
 keep them on, which if you will buy, I'll sell you them a penny- 
 worth." The Sheriff snapped at the proffer, and took four hun- 
 dred pounds in gold with him. Away they rode together; but he 
 was very much surprised at the melancholy place the supposed pro- 
 digal had brought him to, feared they should meet with a man called 
 Robin Hood, and began to wish himself back again ; but it was 
 too late; for Robin winding his horn, presently came Little John, 
 with fifty of his companions, who were commanded by Robin, to 
 take the Sheriff to dinner with them ; assuring them, he>had money 
 enough to pay his share. Accordingly they got a collation ready 
 for the Sheriff, and after dinner was over, led him into the forest, 
 and there took all his gold from him, good part of which he had 
 borrowed from the innkeeper, before he had joined Robin Hood. 
 
14 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 Robin Hood and Maid Marian had reigned King and Queen of 
 the forest glades for .aany a mooa, when one afternoon a strong 
 and sturdy-looking Knight was hailed on the borders of Sherwood 
 by a young archer, who was leaning forest-fashion against a beech- 
 tree, and boldly bidden to follow to Robin Hood's haunt. " And 
 who is Robin Hood ?" asked the Knight. " The Lord of these 
 green woods," was the reply; " and he takes toll of all passers. 
 Will you come with me and pay it, or shall I enforce you to make 
 me my master's treasurer?" " Enforce me! thou insolent boy !" 
 " Boy, I am not ; neither am I man, and yet, methinks, if yon 
 will dismount, 1 should make you deem me more of the latter than 
 you now seem to think I am!" 
 
 The Knight dismounted, and without very little ceremony, com- 
 menced the fight. Before, however, either was harmed, the staff 
 of Tuck peered over the bushes. In a moment he was between the 
 combatants. " What!" cried he, " assailing our Virgin Queen !" 
 " Queen !" quoth the Knight, " if she be woman, never was wench 
 like her." " That it were flat treason to deny — is she no* Marian ? 
 Why ! What sayest thou for bearing blade against her ? Wilt thou, 
 by way of change, have a little of my oak staff' ? Or wilt thou go 
 and eat with us? Wilt fight, or wilt eat? Or wilt eat and fight, 
 or fight and eat? I am thy man any way." 
 
 The Knight liked the humour of Tuck so well, that he grasped 
 his hand in amity, knelt in homage to the forest Queen, and follow- 
 ed them to the wood. Robin welcomed him most courteously, and 
 after finishing to despoil a monk, who was fast bound to a tree, he 
 invited him to eat and be merry. Right jovial grew that knight, 
 and deeply delighted seemed he with his green- vested host; so that 
 when Robin asked him for his gold, he bid him search and take all 
 with a free welcome. " And would it were more," quoth he, " for 
 thy sake." " Say you so?" said Robin, " then 1 take no doit of 
 it. Thou art a true man, and shalt fare freely, without a penny 
 cost." 
 
 At this moment, a heavy tread of horses was heard, near at hand, 
 on the greensward ; Robin and his merry men seized their bows and 
 stood on the defensive. Anon a party of horsemen rode up; and 
 the leader of them sprang off his horse, embraced Robin, and ex- 
 claimed, " What hast thou forgotten me? I am Sir William Lee, 
 to whom this day twelvemonth thou didst lend four hundred pounds, 
 on the bare credit of his word. It saved my lands from the rapaci- 
 ous claw of the holy church ; and here am I come, pursuant to my 
 promise, to pay thee with grateful thanks." Sir William now turn- 
 
ROBIN HOOD. 15 
 
 ed to the stranger kaight, and dropping on his knee, with doffed 
 cap and joyful voice, exclaimed — " God save King Richard "' 
 
 The foresters all did the like, and the forest rang wi,b shouts 
 in honour of their royal visitor. " Up! up !" cried Cceur-de-Lion, 
 for it was, indeed, the King himself, newly returned from the Holy 
 Land; "Up! all of ye! I have heard your story, Robin, and thine 
 too, fair lady. Your father shall sit in Arlingford again, and if 
 Robin will quit the glades, and resume his title, he shall be a peer 
 of Cceur-de-Lion : your followers shall be pardoned, and such of 
 them as you part with, I will entertain; and if ever I hold with 
 priest, or confess me to a cowl, thou Friar shalt be, if thou wilt, 
 that priest, and thine that cowl." 
 
 " I thank thee, brave King," said Tuck, "and were it so, the 
 only penance which I should ever enjoin for thy sins, would be the 
 drinking of some extra flasks of right good canary wine, in which 
 penance 1 would so mortify myself as to partake ; but b y the mass 
 my liege, wert thou to command my poor attendance, I should be 
 bold enough to say, that while these live (pointing to Robin and 
 Marian) no Prince or peer shall seduce their Friar from them." 
 
 The foresters joyfully embraced the King's proposal, and the 
 nuptials of the lovers were soon after formally celebrated in the 
 presence of old Sir Guy, the Baron and even as some chronicles 
 haveit, of brave King Richard himself, at Locksley Castle, where 
 Robert Fitz-Ooth was installed again as Lord of its broad lands, 
 and rightful Earl of Huntingdon. 
 
 The Friar was domiciled in Locksley Castle, and lived as merrily 
 there as he had in the forest ; frequently breaking forth and 
 slaughtering a deer in his former abiding place for his own present 
 diversion and future- eating. The Earl of Huntingdon forsook all 
 his former freaks and lived in good repute for many years ; but his 
 tranquillity was broken in upon soon after the death of his friend King 
 Richard and the usurpation of the throne by his enemy John, and 
 the Earl was compelled to quit Locksley Castle and take to the 
 wood again. Dropping their titles of Earl and Countess of Hun- 
 tingdon our hero and heroine resumed their old forest names of 
 Robin Hood and Maid Marian ; although, it has been quaintly 
 observed, the latter appellation was then as much a misnomer as 
 that of Little John. The Friar of course followed his friends to 
 the woods and used his staff to as much purpose as e7er. Many of 
 Robin's former adherents soon flocked round him, and he reigned 
 for several years as absolutely in Sherwood as he had done before 
 he had received the pardon of Cceur-de-Lion, 
 
16 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 Little John, Scarlet, and Midge the miller, with young Allan- 
 a-dale, now the forest .ainstrel, were still alive, and gloried in 
 enrolling themselves under the gay banner of their former lord 
 and lady, Robin Hood and Marian. 
 
 Robin levied toll as before upon fat Friars and portly Abbots, 
 relieved the needy whenever he could, and killed and ate the King's 
 deer, until he grew old. A volume might be filled with his exploits, 
 bat we have said enough to give our readers a sufficient idea of 
 the character and doings of this forest hero. ^ 
 
 Different accounts have been given of the manner of his death ; 
 but that which seems entitled to most credit, states that he who had 
 so long dared bolt and baldrick at last fell a victim to the treachery 
 of a Monk. In the olden days surgery was frequently practised 
 by those in religious orders, and it is told in tale and sung in ballad 
 that Robin having sent for a Friar to bleed him, the rogue contriv- 
 ed to kill instead of cure him. His death took place in the year 
 1217, when he was above sixty years of age. He was buried in 
 Kirkley park, in the county of York, near two hillocks, called 
 Robin Hood's butts, at which, tradition says, the Sherwood fores- 
 ters used to shoot when Robin was lord of the Greenwood. 
 
 Upon the decease of their beloved leader, the band broke up, 
 but what was the lot of Marian, or whether she survived Robin or 
 no, it is not in our power to say. A monument was erected above 
 his grave, bearing the following inscription, with which we shall 
 conclude this brief outline of his life. 
 
 Robert, Earl of Huntingdon, 
 Lies underneath this little stone. 
 No archer ever was so good, 
 His name it was bold Robin Hood. 
 Full thirty years, and something more, 
 These northern parts he vexed sore ; 
 Such outlaws as he, in any reign. 
 May Eng.and never see again. 
 
17 
 
 THOMAS DUN. 
 
 This man lived in the time of Henry 111., and of his sangui- 
 nary life and cruel death we have the following account : — 
 
 Thomas Dun was born in Bedfordshire, in the time of Henry 111. 
 Even in his childhood, he was noted for his pilfering propensities, 
 and the cruelty of his disposition, and in after life his atrocities were 
 so many, that our space will only enable us to find room for the 
 recital of a few. 
 
 His first exploit was on the highway to Bedford, where he met a 
 waggon full of corn going to market, drawn by a beautiful team of 
 horses. He accosted the driver, and in the middle of the conversa- 
 tion stabbed him to the heart with a dagger which he always carried 
 about his person. He buried the body and mounting the waggon, 
 proceeded to the town, where he sold all off and decamped with 
 the money. He continued to commit many petty thefts and assaults, 
 but judging it safer to associate himself with others he repaired to 
 a gang of thieves, who infested the country, leading from St. Alban 1 
 to Towcester, where they became such a terror that the king was 
 obliged to build a town to check his power in the country, and which 
 retains his name to this day, — Dunstable. 
 
 This precaution was, however of little avail, for he pursued his 
 courses to a great extent. Among his gang were many artists who 
 enabled him to pick locks, wrench bolts and use deaf files with 
 great effect. One day having heard that some lawyers were to dine 
 at a certain inn in Bedfordshire, about an hour before the appointed 
 time, he came running to the inn, and desired the landlord to hurry 
 the dinner, and to have enough ready for ten or twelve. The com- 
 pany soon arrived, and the lawyers thought Dun a servant of the 
 house, while those of the house thought him an attendant of the 
 lawyers. He bustled about, and the bill being called for he collect- 
 ed it, and having some change to return to the company they waited 
 till his return, but growing weary, they rang the bell and enquired 
 for their money when they discovered him to be an impostor. With 
 the assistance of his associates, he made clear off with a considerable 
 booty cf cloaks, hats, silver spoons and every thing of value upon 
 which he could lay his hands. 
 
 After this adventure Dun and his associates went and put up ;,t, 
 G 
 
Ifc ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 anotuer inn. They rose up in the night-time, insulted the landlord, 
 did violence to the land T ady, then murdered them both and pillaged 
 the house of every thing valuable. Dun had an animosity to law- 
 yers and he determined to play a rich one a trick. He waited upon 
 him, and very abruptly demanded payment of a bond which he 
 produced, and the gentleman found his name so admirably forged, 
 that he could not swear it was not his own handwriting. He assured 
 Dun however that he had never borrowed the money, and would 
 not pay the bond. He then left him, telling the lawyer that he 
 would give him some employment. A law-suit was entered int8, 
 and several of his comrades came forward and swore as to the debt 
 being just, and he was about getting a decision in his favour, when 
 the lawyer produced a forged receipt for the debt which some of his 
 clerks likewise swore to, upon which Dun was cast. He was in a 
 great passion at being outwitted, and swore he never heard of such 
 rogues as to swear they had paid him a sum which was never 
 borrowed. 
 
 This was one of the few instances where he did not display that 
 barbarity of disposition which is evinced in all his other adventures, 
 •md which makes us refrain from the enumeration of many of them. 
 He became however such a terror to every one, that the Sheriff of 
 Bedford sent a considerable force to attack him in his retreat. 
 Finding that his strength was equal, if not superior to that of the 
 Sheriff, he commenced the attack and completely routed them, tak- 
 ing eleven prisoners, whom he hung upon the trees round the wood to 
 scare others by the example of their fate. The clothes served them 
 to accomplish their next adventure, which was a design to rob a 
 nobleman in the neighbourhood. They proceeded in the attire of 
 the Sheriff's men and demanded entrance in the name of the king to 
 make search for Dun. After searching every corner they asked for 
 the keys of the trunks to examine them which when they received, 
 they loaded themselves with booty and departed. The nobleman 
 complained to parliament against the Sheriff, when upon investiga- 
 tion, the trick was discovered. 
 
 Nothing prevented Dun from accomplishing any object which 
 he had in view, as he possessed the greatest temerity and cruelty 
 that could fall to the lot of man. He would under the disguise of 
 a gentleman wait upon rich people and upon being shewn into their 
 rooms murder them and carry away their money. 
 
 There was a rich knight in the neighbourhood from whom Dun 
 wished to have a little money. Accordingly he went and knocked 
 ct bis door, which the servant opening, he enquired if Her unwtar 
 
THOMAS DUN. 19 
 
 was at home, and being answered in the affirmative, he instantly 
 went up stairs and familiarly entered his room, some compliments 
 having passed, he sat down in a chair and began a humorous dis- 
 course which attracted the attention of the knight ; Dun then ap- 
 proached and demanded a word or two in his ears. Sir, says he, 
 my necessities come pretty thick upon me at present, and I am 
 obliged to keep even with my creditors, for fear of cracking my 
 fame and fortune too. Now having been directed to you by some 
 of the heads of the parish as a very considerable and liberal person, 
 I am come to petition you in a modest manner, to lend me a thou- 
 sand marks, which will answer all the demands upon me at present 
 " A thousand marks !" answered the knight, " why, man, that's 
 a capital sum ; and where's the inducement to lend you so much 
 money, who are a perfect stranger to me?" — " Sir, you must be 
 mistaken, I am the honest grocer of Bedford, who has so often 
 shared your favours." " Really, friend, I shall not part with my 
 money but on a good security, and what security have you ?" 
 " Why, this dagger," says Dun, (pulling it out of his breast) " is 
 my constant security; and unless you let me have a thousand marks 
 instantly, I shall pierce your heart !" this threat produced the 
 'ntended effect, and he instantly delivered the money. 
 
 Having lost his road in the country, he arrived at a house where 
 ne enquired if they could accommodate a benighted traveller with a 
 bed. The gentleman of the house politely told him that all his 
 house was occupied with friends and relations, who had just arrived 
 to be present at the celebration of his daughter's marriage, which 
 was to take place the next day, otherwise, he should have been 
 very welcome. When he was unwillingly departing, the gentleman 
 informed him, if he was not superstitious, and had courage enough, 
 there was one room unoccupied, in which he might sleep, but that 
 it waj haunted. Dun was above all silly apprehensions of that 
 nature, and accepted the offer, and after being well entertained, 
 retired to his room, the company all praying for his quiet rest. A 
 good fire had been made in the room, and when all the house was 
 at rest, he lay anxiously waiting for something to appear; when 
 the door of his chamber opened, and in came the bride, of whom 
 he had taken particular notice at supper. At first he was at a loss 
 to know whether it was only a resemblance, but soon satisfied him- 
 self that it was the real lady, though, whether she was walking in 
 her sleep or not, he could not say, he however resolved to watch 
 her motions. She seemed to look stedfastly upon his countenance, 
 and then going round the bed, gently turned up the clothes, and 
 
20 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 lay down by his side, where she had not lain long, before she drew 
 a rich diamond ring from her finger, placed it on the pillow, and 
 left the room with the same silent step as she had entered it. 
 He did not wish to disturb her, as she had left so good a prize 
 behind her. He soon fell asleep, dreamed that the lady again ap- 
 peared, and said that she detested the person to whom she was 
 going to be married, and entreated him to assist her in this conjunc 
 ture. Dun, however, had got what he wanted, and departed next 
 morning, without satisfying the curiosity of the company, or thank- 
 ing the gentleman for his kindness. . 
 
 By this time Dun had become formidable to both rich and poor ; 
 but one melancholy circumstance attended his depredations, they 
 were in almost every instance stained with blood. He however con- 
 tinued his infamous course twenty years, the vicinity of the river 
 Ouse in Yorkshire being the usual scene of his exploits ; and being 
 attended by fifty armed men on horseback, the inhabitants of the 
 country were afraid to seize him. 
 
 His last adventure was as remarkable as those of his former life. 
 His infamy daily increasing, the people of that district at length 
 determined no longer to suffer his depredations ; and, he and his 
 gang were so closely pursued, that they were constrained to divide 
 themselves, each seeking for safety for himself. Dun having con- 
 cealed himself in a small village, was at last discovered, and the 
 house he was in surrounded. Two of the strongest courageously 
 posted themselves at the door; Dun seized his dagger, laid them 
 both dead, bridled his horse, and in the midst of the uproar escaped. 
 He was, however, hotly pursued by one hundred and fifty men, 
 armed with clubs, pitchforks, rakes, and whatever rustic weapons 
 they could find, who coming up with him, dismounted him from 
 his horse, but, to the astonishment of all, he again mounted and 
 galloped off, cut his way through the crowd ; and multitudes flock- 
 ing from all quarters, the pursuit was renewed. He was, a second 
 time, dismounted, and now employed his feet : he ran for the space 
 of two miles; but when he halted to breathe a little, three hundred 
 men were ready to oppose him, his courage and strength, however, 
 still remaining unsubdued, he burst through them, fled over a valley, 
 threw off his clothes, seized his sword in his teeth, and plunged into 
 a river in order to gain the opposite bank. 
 
 To his sad surprise, however, he perceived it covered with new 
 opponents; he swam down the river, but was pursued by several 
 boats, until he took refuge on a small island. Determined to give 
 him no time to recover from his fatigue, they attacked him there. 
 
Silt GOSSELIN DENV1LLE. 21 
 
 Thus closely pursued, he plunged again into the river with his sword 
 in his teeth ; he was pursued by the boats, repeatedly struck with 
 their oars ; and after having received several blows on the head, 
 he was at last vanquished. 
 
 He was conducted to a surgeon to have his wounds dressed, then 
 led before a magistrate, who sent him to Bedford gaol under a strong 
 guard. Remaining there two weeks, until he was considered reco- 
 vered, a scaffold was erected in the market place, and, without a 
 formal triil, he was led forth to execution. When the two execu- 
 tioners approached him, he warned them of their danger if they 
 should lay hands upon him; he accordingly grasped both, and nine 
 times overthrew them upon the stage before his strength was ex- 
 hausted, so that they could not perform their duty. His hands 
 were first chopped off at the wrist ; then his arms at the elbows ; 
 next, about an inch from the shoulders ; his feet below the ancles ; 
 his legs at the knee ; and his thighs about five inches from his trunk ; 
 the horrible scene was closed by severing his head from the body ; 
 and consuming it to ashes ; the other parts of his body were fixed 
 up in the principal parts of Bedfordshire, as a warning to his com- 
 panions. The quantity of blood that was shed during his career, 
 restrains even the tear of pity upon his miserable fate. 
 
 SIR GOSSELIN DENVILLE, 
 
 Who lived in the time of Edward II., was descended of very ho- 
 nourable parents at Northallerton, in the North Riding of York- 
 shire. His family came into England with William the Conqueror, 
 who assigned them lands for their services, where they lived in 
 great repute, until the days of our hero. He was intended, by his 
 father, for the priesthood, and for this purpose was sent to college, 
 where he prosecuted his studies with great assiduity and seeming 
 warmth. As he was naturally of a vicious disposition, he merely 
 dissembled to please his father, until he should get possession of 
 his fortune. 
 
 His natural habits however could not long be restrained, and he 
 soon displayed his propensity to a luxurious and profligate life; 
 and it appears that so vicious was his conduct, that he broke his 
 father's heart; and his newly acquired wealth, he and his brother 
 Robert contrived soon to dissipate in licentiousness and luxury. 
 
22 ENGLISH iWGHWAYMEN. 
 
 The first enterprise of note which we find recorded of Sir Gos- 
 selin is one in which h< was joined by Middleton and Selby, two 
 robbers of that time, with a considerable force. Their design 
 was to rob two Cardinals, sent into this kingdom by the Pope, 
 which they accomplished with great success. Not only travellers, 
 but monasteries, churches, nunneries, and houses, were the objects 
 of their attacks, and they were not merely content with booty, but 
 barbarously murdered all who made the least opposition. 
 
 A Dominican monk, of the name of Andrew Simpson, was once 
 met by our knight and his associates, and obliged to surrender his * 
 purse; wishing, however, to make pastime of him, they compelled 
 him to mount a tree and preach an extempore sermon. 
 
 The monk selected for his text these words : " A certain man 
 went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, who, 
 stripped him of his raiment and wounded him, and departed 
 leaving him half dead;" and he commented thereon in a very 
 learned manner, hoping to move the hearts of his hearers, but 
 without success, they were too far plunged in iniquity to reform. 
 They continued their course, and every day became more formi- 
 dable, and robbed with such boldness that country-seats were for 
 saken, and safety sought in fortified cities. They defeated forces 
 sent out to suppress them, and were not deterred from any project, 
 either by the magnitude of the danger, or the greatness of the indi- 
 viduals concerned. The king himself when on a tour through the 
 north of England, was beset by the gang in priests' habits, and he 
 and his nobles had to submit themselves to be rifled. This robbery 
 was highly resented, and several proclamations offering great re- 
 wards were issued for the apprehension of any or every of them. 
 The promise of the premium bred traitors among themselves, and in 
 less than a month afterwards sixty were delivered up to justice. 
 
 The last recorded exploit of Sir Gosselin and his remaining as- 
 sociates was an attack which he made upon the Bishop of Durham 
 They rifled his palace of every thing valuable, and maltreated not 
 only himself but his servants and family. But the fortune ofour 
 knight seemed now on the wane. 
 
 His amours were many, and among them was one with the wife 
 of a publican whose house he used to frequent, not so much for the 
 goodness of the ale as the beauty of the hostess. The husband, 
 however, sought his revenge in due season, and betrayed the 
 knight and his men one evening while they were carousing in his 
 house. The sheriff and five hundred men surrounded the party, 
 who fought desperately, but it was not before two hundred of the 
 
SAWNEY BEANE. 33 
 
 oesiegers had fallen, and they were completely hemmed in that 
 they surrendered. They were escoited under a strong guard to 
 York, where, without the privilege of a trial, they were immediate- 
 ly executed to the joy of thousands, the satisfaction of the great, 
 and the delight of the community, who waited upon them to the 
 scaffold, triumphing in their ignominious exit. 
 
 SAWNEY BEANE, 
 
 " The Man Eater." 
 
 Our next narrative presents such a picture of human barbarity, 
 that, were it not attested by the most unquestionable historical 
 evidence, it would be rejected as altogether fabulous and incredible, 
 it is that of Sawney Beane. 
 
 This man was born in East Lothian, about eight miles eas-t o£ 
 Edinburgh, in the reign of James 1. of Scotland. His father was 
 a hedger and ditcher, and brought up his son to the same laborious 
 employment. Naturally idle and vicious, he abandoned that place 
 in company with a young woman equally idle and profligate, and 
 retired to the deserts of Galloway, where they took up their habi- 
 tation by the sea-side, The place which they selected for their 
 dwelling was a cave of about a mile in length, and of considerable 
 breadth, so near the sea, that the tide often penetrated into the 
 cave above two hundred yards. The entry had many intricate 
 windings and turnings, leading to the extremity of the subterrane- 
 ous dwelling, which was literally " the habitation of horrid cruelty." 
 
 In this cave they commenced their depredations, and to prevent 
 the possibility of detection, they murdered every person they robbed. 
 Destitute of the means of obtaining any other food, they resolved 
 to live upon human flesh, and accordingly, when they had murder- 
 ed any man, woman, .or child, they carried them to their den, 
 quartered them, salted the limbs, and dried them for food. In 
 this manner they lived, carrying on their depredations and murder, 
 until they had eight sons and six daughters, eighteen grandsons 
 and fourteen grandaughters, all the offspring of incest. 
 
 But though they soon became numerous, yet such was the multi- 
 tude which fell into their hands, that they had often superabundance 
 of provisions, and would at a distance from their own habitation, 
 throw legs and arms of dried human bodies into the sea by night. 
 
24 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 These were often cast out by the tide, and taken up by the country 
 people, to the great dismay of all the surrounding inhabitants. 
 Nor could any one discover what had befallen the many friends, 
 relations, and neighbours who had unfortunately fallen into the 
 hand of these merciless cannibals. 
 
 In proportion as Sawney's family increased, every one that was 
 able acted his part in these horrid assassinations. They would 
 sometimes attack four or six men on foot, but nevermore than two 
 upon horseback. To prevent the possibility of escape, they would 
 lie in ambush in every direction, so that if they escaped the attach 
 of the first, they might be assailed with renewed fury by second* 
 party, and inevitably murdered. By this means they always se- 
 cured their prey, and prevented detection. At last, however, the 
 vast number who were slain raised the inhabitants of the country, 
 and all the woods and lurking-places were carefully searched ; yet, 
 though they often passed by the mouth of the horrible den, it was 
 never once suspected that any human being resided there. In 
 this state of uncertainty and suspense concerning the author* of 
 such frequent massacres, several innocent travellers and inkeepers 
 were taken up on suspicion, because the persons who were missing 
 had been seen last in their company, or had last resided at their 
 houses. The effect of this well-meant and severe justice constrain- 
 ed the greater part of the inkeepers in those parts to abandon such 
 employments, to the great inconvenience of those who travelled 
 through that district. 
 
 Meanwhile, the country became depopulated, and the whole 
 nation was at a loss to account for the numerous and unheard-of 
 villanies and cruelties that were perpetrated, without the slightest 
 clue to the discovery of the abominable actors. At length the 
 horrible scene was terminated in the following manner. One 
 evening, a man and wife were riding home upon the same horse 
 from a fair which had been held in the neighbourhood, and being 
 attacked, the husband made the most vigorous resistance ; his wife, 
 however, was dragged from behind him, carried to a little distance > 
 and her entrails instanlly taken out. Struck with horror the hus- 
 band redoubled his efforts to escape, and even trod some of the 
 assassins down under his horse's feet. Fortunately for him, and 
 the inhabitants of that part of the country, in the mean time, 
 twenty or thirty in a company came riding home from the fair, but 
 upon their approach, Sawney and his bloody crow lied into a thick 
 wood, and hastened to their infernal den. 
 
 This man. who was the first that had ever escaped out of their 
 
SAWNEY BEANE. 25 
 
 hands, related to his neighbours what had happened,, and showed 
 them the mangled body of his wife lying at a distance, the blood- 
 thirsty wretches not having time to carry it along with them. They 
 were all struck with astonishment and horror, took him with them 
 to Glasgow, and reported the whole adventure to the chief magis- 
 trate of the city, who, upon this information, instantly wrote to 
 the king, informing him of the matter. In a few days, his majesty 
 in person, accompanied by four hundred men, went in quest of the 
 perpetrators of these horrid cruelties. The man, whose wife had 
 been murdered before his eyes, went as their guide, with a great 
 number of blood-hounds, that no possible means might be left 
 unattempted to discover the haunt of such execrable villains. 
 
 They searched the woods, and traversed and examined the sea- 
 shore ; but as they passed by the entrance into their cave, some of 
 the blood-hounds entered it, and raising an uncommon barking 
 and noise, gave indication that they were about to seize their prey. 
 The king and his men returned, but could scarcely conceive how 
 any human beings could reside in a place of utter darkness, and 
 where the entrance was difficult and narrow ; but, as the blood- 
 hounds increased in their vociferation, and refused to return, it 
 occurred to all that the cave ought to be explored to the extremity. 
 Accordingly, a sufficient number of torches was provided; the 
 hounds were permitted to pursue their course ; a great number of 
 men penetrated through all the intricacies of the path, and at length 
 arrived at the private entrance of the cannibals. 
 
 They were followed by all the band, who were shocked to behold 
 a sight unequalled in Scotland if not in any part of the universe. 
 Legs, arms, thighs, hands, and feet, of men, women, and children, 
 were suspended in rows like dried beef, some limbs and other mem- 
 bers were soaked in pickle; while a great mass of money, both of gold 
 and silver, watches, rings, pistols, clothes, both linen and woollen, 
 with an immense quantity of other articles, were either thrown to- 
 gether in heaps, or suspended upon the sides of the cave. 
 
 The whole cruel, brutal family, to the number formerly mention- 
 ed, were seized; the human flesh buried in the sand of the sea-shore ; 
 the immense booty carried away, and the king marched to Edin- 
 burgh with the prisoners. This new and wretched spectacle attract- 
 ed the attention of the inhabitants, who flocked from all quarters 
 to see, as they passed along, so bloody and unnatural a family 
 which had increased, in the space of twenty-five years, to the num- 
 ber of twenty -seven men and twenty-one women. Arrived in the 
 capital, they were all confined in the Tolbooth under a strong guard, 
 
i6 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 and were next day conducted to the common place of execution in 
 Leith Walk, and executed without any formal trial, it being deemed 
 unnecessary to try those who were avowed enemies of all mankind 
 and of all social order. 
 
 The enormity of their crimes dictated the severity of their death. 
 The men had their entrails thrown into the fire, their hands and legs 
 were severed from their bodies, and they were permitted to bleed 
 to death. The wretched mother of the whole crew, the daughters, 
 and grandchildnen, after being spectators of the death of the men, 
 were cast into three separate fires, and consumed to ashes. No*, 
 did they, in general, display any signs of repentance or regret but 
 continued, with their last breath, to pour forth the most dreadful 
 curses and imprecations upon all around. 
 
 THOMAS WYNNE. 
 
 This notorious criminal was born at Ipswich, in the reign of 
 Queen Elizabeth, at which place he continued till he was between 
 fifteen and sixteen, and then went to sea. Nine years after, com- 
 ing to London, and associating with loose company, especially 
 with females, he left no villainy undone for the support of himself 
 and them in their extravagances, till at last he became so expert in 
 house-breaking and all sorts of theft, that he was esteemed the 
 most remarkable villain in his time ; accordingly we find that he 
 had the boldness to rob the royal lodgings at Whitehall Palace, of 
 plate to the amount of £400, for which he was taken and committed 
 to Newgate. But fortunately for him, her majesty's act of grace 
 coming out, granting a free pardon for all offences except murder, 
 treason, and other notorious crimes, he was allowed the benefit of 
 that act, and thus obtained his liberty. But neither the Queen's 
 clemency, nor the eminent danger to which he had been exposed, 
 had any effect upon him ; for, pursuing his villanies, he was soon 
 constrained to hire himself as under servant in the kitchen, to the 
 Earl of Salisbury, to avoid detection. While he was in this post, 
 he had the audacity to make love to the Countess's attendant, who, 
 astonished at such insolence in a man of his iank, returned his 
 addresses with contempt, which exasperated him so much, that his 
 love turned to hatred, and he vowed vengeance. He accordingly 
 embraced an opportunity, and used her very brutally, until she 
 
THOMAS WYNNE. 27 
 
 was under the ne( essity of calling to the other servants for assis- 
 tance, and from his treatment took to her bed, and remained very 
 unwell for some time. The Earl, informed of his cruelty, order- 
 ed him to be whipped by the coachman, and the same to be repeated 
 once a week during a month, but having satiated his vengeance 
 upon the woman, he decamped from the house, after robbing the 
 coachman of £9, borrowing £15 of the master-cook, carrying off 
 a silver cup of the Earl's, and all the best clothes of the woman 
 whom he had so greatly injured, and went in quest of new ad- 
 ventures. 
 
 After this, Wynne often dressed himself in the garb of a porter, 
 and carried off parcels, consigned to carriers, and continued un- 
 detected in this practice, until he had acquired about two hundred 
 pounds, for which the different carriers had to pay through their 
 neglect. Taught by experience, however, they began to look bet- 
 ter after the goods entrusted to their care, so that Wynne had to 
 turn to a new employment. 
 
 After having reigned eight years in his villanies, he determined 
 to rob a linen-draper, in Honey Lane, who, with his wife were 
 living upon their industry, and accordingly one evening he broke 
 into their house, cut both their throats while they were asleep, 
 rifled the house to the amount of £2500; and, to prevent detection, 
 sailed to Virginia, with his wife and four children. 
 
 Not appearing in the neighbourhood next day as usual, and the 
 doors remaining locked, the neighbours were alarmed, sent for 
 a constable, and burst open the doors, when they found them 
 weltering in their blood, and their house pillaged. Enquiry was 
 of course made, and a poor man, a beggar, was taken up on sus- 
 picion, because he had been seen sitting upon a bench before the 
 house the previous day : and although nothing but circumstantial 
 evidence appeared against him, he was tried, condemned, and 
 executed in front of the dwelling, and his body hung in chains at 
 Holloway. 
 
 In the meantime the murderer remained in a foreign land, where 
 he prospered, and his riches greatly increased; but after he had 
 resided about twenty years in Virginia where his family had become 
 numerous, he resolved to visit England before his death, and then 
 to return to deposit his bones in a foreign grave, this resolution 
 was a fatal one to him, for during his stay in London, he happened 
 one day to enter a goldsmith's shop in Cheapside, intending to 
 purchase some plate to take with him on his return, and while he 
 was in treaty for the same, an uproar took place iii the street, 
 
28 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 occasioned by the circumstance of a gentleman running off from 
 certain bailiffs who were conducting him to prison. Upon this, 
 Wynne ran also out mto the street, and hearing somebody behind 
 him crying out, " Stop him ! stop him 1" his conscience instantly 
 awoke, so that he stopped, and exclaimed, " I am the man !" 
 " You the man !" cried the people ; " What man ?" " The man," 
 replied Wynne, " that committed the murder in Honey-lane 
 twenty years ago, for which a poor man was hanged wrongfully. 
 Upon this confession, he was carried before a magistrate, to whon^ 
 he repeated the same acknowledgement, and was committed to 
 Newgate, tried, condemned, and executed before the house where 
 he perpetrated the horrid deed. Justice also overtook his family, 
 who were privy to his guilt. Upon the intelligence of his shameful 
 end, his wife immediately became deranged, and continued so to 
 her death. Two of his sons were hanged in Virginia for robbery, 
 and the whole family were eventually reduced to beggary. 
 
 THOMAS WITHERINGTON 
 
 This man flourished in the time of James I. He was the son of a 
 gentleman of Carlisle, who possessed a considerable estate, and 
 brought up his children suitably to his condition. Young Wither- 
 ington received a liberal education, as his father intended that he 
 should live free from the toil and hazard of business, and the fathe* 
 dying, he came into possession of the estate, which soon procured 
 him a rich wife, who afterwards proved the chief cause of bis ruin. 
 She was loose in her conduct, and violated her matrimonial obliga- 
 tions, which drove him from his house to seek happiness in the 
 tavern, or in the company that frequented it. These by degrees 
 perverted all the good qualities he possessed ; nor was his estate 
 less subject to ruin and decay; for the mortgages he made 
 on it, in order to support his luxury and profusion, soon reduced 
 his circumstances to the lowest ebb. Undisciplined in poverty, 
 he was possessed of too independent a spirit to stoop either to re- 
 lations or friends for a precarious subsistence, and to solicit the 
 benevolence of his fellow-men was what his soul abhorred. Starve 
 he could not, and only one way of living presented itself to his 
 choice — that of levying contributions on the road. This he followed 
 for six or seven years with tolerable success, and we shall now relate 
 * few of his most remarkable adventures. 
 
THOMAS WITHERINGTON 29 
 
 Upon his first outset he repaired to a friend, and lamenting his 
 late irregularities, declared als determination to live by some honest 
 means ; and for this purpose he required a little money in estab- 
 lishing himself, hoping his friend would find it convenient to 
 accommodate him. His friend was overjoyed at the prospect of 
 his amendment and willingly lent him fifty pounds, with as many 
 blessings and exhortations. But Witherington frustrated these 
 kind intentions, for with the money he bought himself a horse and 
 other necessaries fit for his future enterprises. 
 
 Stopping one night at Keswick in Cumberland, he met with the 
 Dean of Carlisle. Being equally learned, they found each other's 
 company very agreeable, and Witherington passed himself off for 
 a gentleman who had just returned from the East Indies with a 
 handsome competency, and was returning to his friends at Carlisle, 
 among whom he had a rich uncle, who had lately died and left him 
 sole heir to nis estate. " True," said the Dean, " I have often 
 heard of a relation of Mr. Witherington's being in the East Indies, 
 but his family, I can assure you, received repeated information of 
 his death, and what prejudice this may have done to your affairs 
 at Carlisle, to-morrow will be the best witness." The Dean then 
 told him his own history, and concluded with these words : — " And 
 I am now informed that to support his extravagance, Mr. Wither- 
 ington frequents the road, and takes a purse whenever he can 
 extort it. v Our adventurer seemed greatly hurt at this account of 
 his cousin's conduct, and thanked the doctor for his information. 
 The evening was afterwards spent very agreeably and they promised 
 each other to travel together on the following day to Carlisle. 
 
 Accordingly, the next morning they sat out on their journey, 
 and having arrived at a wood on the road, Witherington rode close 
 up to the Dean, and whispering into his ear, " Sir, though the 
 place at which we now are is private enough, yet willing that what 
 1 do should be still more private, I take the liberty to acquaint you 
 that you have something about you that will do me an infinite piece 
 of service." — " What's that?" answered the doctor, " you shall 
 have it with all my heart." — " I thank you for your civility," said 
 Witherington. " Well then, to be plain, the money in your 
 breeches'-pocket will be very serviceable to me at the present mo- 
 ment." — " Money !" rejoined the Doctor; " Sir, you cannot want 
 money ; your garb and person both tell me you are in no want." — 
 " Ay, but 1 am ; for the ship in which I came over happened to be 
 wrecked, so that I have lost all that I brought from India; and 1 
 would not enter Carlisle for the whole world without money in inv 
 
30 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 pocket." — " Friend, I may urge the same plea, and say I would 
 not go into that city wi.hout money for the world ; but what then ? 
 If you are Mr. Witherington's nephew, as you have told me you 
 are, you would not thus peremptorily demand money of me, for at 
 Carlisle your friends will supply you ; and if you have none now, 
 I will bear your expenses to that place." — " Sir," said Withering- 
 ton, " the question is not whether I have money or not, but con- 
 cerning that which is in your pocket ; for, as you say, my cousin 
 is obliged to take purses on the road, and so am 1 ; so that if J 
 take your's, you may ride to Carlisle, and say that Mr. Withering- 
 ton met you and demanded your charity." After a good deal of 
 expostulation, the Dean, terrified at the sight of a pistol, delivered 
 to Witherington a purse containing fifty guineas, before he pursued 
 his journey to Carlisle, and our adventurer set off in search of 
 more prey. 
 
 Soon after this event Witherington went to Newcastle, and put 
 up at an inn where some commissioners were to meet that day, to 
 make choice of a schoolmaster for a neighbouring parish. The 
 salary being very handsome, many young clergymen and students 
 appeared as competitors : and being possessed of sufficient qualifi- 
 cations, Witheuington bethought him of standing a candidate, for 
 which purpose he borrowed coarse plain clothes from the landlord, 
 to make his appearance correspond with the conduct he meant to 
 pursue. Repairing to the kitchen, and sitting down by the fire, 
 he called for a mug of ale, putting on a dejected countenance. 
 One of the freeholders who came to vote, observing him as he stood 
 warming himself by the fire, was taken with his countenance, ana 
 entered into conversation with him. He very modestly let the 
 freeholder know that he had come with the intention of standing 
 as a candidate, but when he saw so many gay young men as 
 competitors, and fearing that every thing would be carried by 
 interest, he resolved to return home. " Nay," replied the honest 
 freeholder, " as long as I have a vote, justice shall be done ; and 
 never fear, for egad, I say, merit shall have the place, and if you 
 be found the best scholar, you shall certainly have it; and to shc^* 
 you I am sincere, I now, though you are a stranger to me, promise 
 yon my vote, and my interest likewise." Witherington thanked 
 him for his civility, and consented to wait for the trial. A keen 
 contest took place between two of the most successful candidates, 
 when our adventurer was introduced as a man who had so much 
 modesty as to make him fearful of appearing before so great an 
 assembly, but who nevertheless wished to be examined. He con 
 
THOMAS WITHERINGTON. 31 
 
 fronted the two opponents, and exposed their ignorance to the 
 tmstees, who were all astonished at the stranger. He showed it 
 was not a number of Greek and Latin sentences that constituted a 
 good scholar, but a thorough knowledge of the nature of the book 
 which he read, and the ability to discover the design of the author. 
 Suffice it to say, that Witherington was installed into the office 
 with all the usual formalities. 
 
 Conducting himself with much moderation and humility, the 
 churchwardens of the parish took a great fancy to him, and made 
 him overseer and tax-gatherer to the parish; and the rector like- 
 wise committed to his care the collection of his rents and tithes. 
 The friendly disposition towards Witherington extended itself over 
 the parish, and never was a man believed to be more honest or 
 industrious. Of the latter qualification, we must say, in this 
 instance, he showed himself possessed; but of the former he had 
 never any notion. His opinion had great weight with the heads 
 of the parish, and he proposed the erection of a new school-house, 
 and for this purpose offered, himself, to sink a year's salary towards 
 a subscription. It was willingly agreed to, and contributions came 
 in from all quarters, and a sum exceeding £700 was speedily raised. 
 The mind of Witherington was now big with hope, but, being 
 discovered by two gentlemen, who had come from Carlisle, he 
 made off with all the subscriptions and funds in his possession, 
 leaving the parish to reflect upon the honesty of their schoolmaster 
 and their own credulity. 
 
 He afterwards went to Buckinghamshire, and being at an inn 
 in the county town, fell into the company of some farmers, who, 
 he discovered, were come to meet their landlord with their rents. 
 They were all tenants of the same proprietor, and poured out 
 many complaints against him for his harshness and injustice, in 
 not allowing some deduction from their rents, or time after quarter- 
 day, when they met with severe losses from bad weather or other 
 causes; and learning that this landlord was very rich, and so miserly 
 that he denied himself even the necessaries of life ; he determined, 
 it possible, to rifle him before he parted. 
 
 The landlord soon arrived, and the company were shown into a 
 private room; Witherington, upon pretence of being a friend of 
 one of the farmers, and a lawyer, accompanied them. He request- 
 ed a sight of the last receipts, and examined them with great care, 
 and then addressing the landlord, " Sir," said he, " These honest 
 men, my friends, have been your tenants for a long time, and have 
 paid their rents ve*"* regularly; but why they should be so fond of 
 
32 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 your farms at so high a rent I am unable to compreaend, when 
 they may get other la^ds much cheaper; and that you should be 
 so unreasonable as not to allow a reduction in their rents in a season 
 like this, when they must lose instead of gaining by their farms. 
 It is your duty, Sir, to encourage them, and not to grind them so 
 unmercifully, else they will soon be obliged to leave your farms 
 altogether." The landlord endeavoured to argue the point; and 
 the farmers seeing the drift of Witherington, refrained from inter- 
 fering. " It is unnecessary," resumed Witherington, " to have more 
 parley about it; I insist on behalf of my friends here, that yo*U 
 remit them a hundred and fifty pounds of the three hundred you 
 expect them to pay you, for I am told you have more than enough 
 to support yourself and family." " Not a sous," replied the land- 
 lord. " We'll try that presently. But pray, Sir, take your pen, 
 ink and paper, in the mean time, and write out their receipts, and 
 the money shall be forthcoming immediately." " Not a letter, till 
 the money is in my hands." " It must be so then," answered 
 Witherington ; " you will force a good-natured man to use extremi- 
 ties with you ;" and so saying, he laid a brace of loaded pistols on the 
 table. In a moment the landlord was on his knees, crying, <: Oh ! 
 dear Sir, sweet Sir, kind Sir, merciful Sir, for God of Heaven's 
 sake, Sir, don't take away the life of an innocent man, Sir, who 
 never intended harm to any one. Sir." " Why, what harm do I 
 intend you, friend ? Cannot 1 lay the pistols I travel with on the 
 table, but you must throw yourself into this unnecessary fear? 
 Pray, proceed to the receipts, and write them in full of all demands 
 to this time, or else," — " Oh, God, Sir! oh, dear Sir! you have 
 an intention — pray, dear Sir, have no intention against my life." 
 " To the receipts then, or by Jupiter Amraon ! I'll — " — " O yes, 
 I will, Sir." With this the old landlord wrote full receipts, and 
 delivered them to the respective farmers. 
 
 " Come," said Witherington, " this is honest, and to show you 
 that you have to deal with honest people, here is a hundred and 
 fifty pounds ; and I promise you, in the name of these honest men, 
 that if things succeed well, you shall have the other half next 
 quarter-day." The farmers paid the money, and departed aston- 
 ished, and not a little afraid, at the consequences of this proceeding. 
 W itherington ordered his horse, and enquired of the ostler the 
 »-oad the old gentleman had to travel, and presently took his 
 deoarture. 
 
 He chose the road which the old gentleman had to travel, and 
 soon observed him jogerin? awav in sullen silence, with a servant 
 
JAMES BATSON. » 
 
 behind him. When he observed our hero he would have flea, out 
 Witherington seized the bridle of his horse, and forced him to 
 proceed, bantering him upon the folly of hoarding up wealth, 
 without enjoying it himself, merely for some spendthrift son to 
 squander after his death. " For," he continued, " money is a 
 blessing sent from Heaven, in order that, by its circulation, i* 
 may afford nourishment to the body politic ; and if such wretches 
 as you, by laying up thousands in your coffers to no advantage, 
 cause a stagnation, there are thousands in the world that must 
 feel the consequences, and I am to acquaint you of them ; so that 
 a better deed cannot be done, than to bestow what you have about 
 you upon me ; for, to be plain with you, I am not to be refused ;" 
 and hereupon he presented his pistol. The old gentleman, in 
 trepidation for his life, resigned his purse, containing more than 
 three hundred and fifty guineas ; and Witherington, unbuckling 
 the portmanteau from behind the servant, placed it on his own 
 horse, and left the old landlord with an admonition, to be in future 
 affable and generous to his tenants, for they were the persons who 
 supported him, adding, that, if he ever again heard complaints 
 from them, he would visit his house, and partake liberally of what 
 he most coveted. 
 
 The county, after this adventure, was up in pursuit of Wither- 
 ington, and he retired to Cheshire with great expedition, where 
 he committed numberless depredations ; but at last being obliged 
 to leave this part of the country, he took to the London road, where 
 he perpetrated a robbery between Acton and Uxbridge ; after which 
 he was detected and committed to Newgate, where he led a most 
 profligate life till the day of his execution. 
 
 He was executed with Jonathan Woodward and James Philpot, 
 two most notorious housebreakers, who had once before received 
 mercy from King James I. upon his accession to the throne. 
 
 JAMES BATSON. 
 
 Of this famous robber, who was born in the first year of James 
 ♦,he First, we have no other history than what is given in his own 
 words, and we are therefore compelled, in default of other particu- 
 lars, to lay his auto-biography before our readers. 
 D 
 
34 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 " \ suppose," says he, " that according to custom, the reader 
 will expect some rel fion of my genealogy, and as 1 am a great 
 admirer of fashion, I shall gratify his curiosity. My grandfather 
 had the good fortune to marry a woman well skilled in vaulting 
 and rope dancing, and who could act her part uncommonly well. 
 Though above fifty years of age, and affected with the phthisic, she 
 died in the air. To avoid seeing other women fly as she had done, 
 tier husband would not marry again ; but diverted himself with 
 keeping a puppet-show in Moorfields, deemed the most remarkable 
 that ever had been seen in that place. My grandfather was also'so 
 little, that the only difference between him and his puppets was, 
 that they spoke through a trunk, and he without one. He was, 
 however, so eloquent, and made such lively speeches, that his 
 audience were never rendered drowsy. All the apple-women, 
 hawkers, and fish women, were so charmed by his wit, that they 
 would run to hear him, and leave their goods without any guard 
 but their own straw-hats. 
 
 " My father had two trades, or two strings to his bow ; he was a 
 painter and a gamester, and master much alike to both ; for his 
 painting could scarcely rise so high as a sign-post, and his hand 
 at play was of such an ancient date, that it could scarcely pass 
 He had one misfortune, which, like original sin, he entailed upon 
 all his children ; and that was his being borne a gentleman, which 
 is as bad as being a poet, few of whom escape eternal poverty. 
 
 " My mother had the misfortune to die longing for mushrooms. 
 Besides myself she left two daughters, both very handsome and very 
 young; and though I was then young myself, yet I was much 
 better skilled in sharping than my age seemed to promise. When 
 the funeral sermon was preached, the funeral rites performed, and 
 our tears dried up, my father returned to his daubing, my sisters 
 to their stitching, and I was despatched to school. I had such an 
 excellent memory, that though my dispositions were then what they 
 have continued to be, yet I soon learned as much as might have 
 been applied to better purposes than I have done. My tricks upou 
 my master and my companions were so numerous, that I obtained 
 the honourable appellation of the Little Judas. My avaricious 
 disposition soon appeared, and if my covetous eyes once beheld 
 any thing, my invention soon put it into my possession. These, 
 however, I could not obtain gratis, for they cost me many a boxing 
 bout every day. The reports of my conduct were convoyed home, 
 and my eldest sister would frequently spend her white hands upon 
 the side of my pate; and even sometimes carried her admonition* 
 
JAMES BATSON. 35 
 
 mj far, as politely to inform me, that I should prove a disgrace to 
 the family. 
 
 " It was my good fortune, however, not to be greatly agitated by 
 ner remonstrances, which went in at one ear and out at the other. 
 It happened, however, that my adventures were so numerous, and 
 daily increasing in their magnitude, that I was dismissed the 
 school with as much solemnity as if it had been by beat of drum. 
 After giving me a complete drubbing, my father carried me to a 
 barber, in order to be bound as his apprentice. I was first sent to 
 the kitchen, where my mistress soon provided me with employment, 
 by showing me a parcel of dirty clothes, informing me, that it 
 made part of the apprentice's work to clean them : " Jemmy," says 
 she, " mind your heels, there's a good boy !" I hung down my 
 head, tumbled all the clouts into a trough, and washed them as 
 well as I could. ] so managed the matter, that I was soon discard- 
 °d from my office, which was very fortunate for me, for it would 
 have put an end to poor Jemmy in less than a fortnight. 
 
 " The third day of my apprenticeship, my master having just 
 given me a note to receive money, there came into the shop a cavalier 
 with a large pair of whiskers, and told my master he would have them 
 turned up. The journeyman not being at hand, my master began 
 to turn them up himself, and desired me to heat the irons. I com 
 plied, and just as he had turned up one whisker, there happened 
 a quarrel in the street, and my master ran out to learn the cause. 
 The scuffle lasting long, and my master desirous to see the end as 
 well as the beginning of the bustle, the spark was all the time 
 detained in the shop, with the one whisker ornamented, and the 
 other hanging down like an aspin leaf. In a harsh tone he asked 
 me, if I understood my trade; and I, thinking it derogatory to 
 my understanding to be ignorant, boldly replied, that I did ; 
 1 Why, then,' said he, ' turn up this whisker for me, or I shall go 
 into the street as I am, and kick your master.' I was unwilling 
 to be detected in a lie, and deeming it no difficult matter to turn 
 up a whisker, never showed the least concern, but took up one of 
 the irons, that had been in the fire ever since the commencement 
 of the street bustle, and having nothing to try it on, and willing 
 to appear expeditious, I took a comb, stuck it into his bristly bush, 
 and clapped the iron to it ; no sooner did they meet, than there 
 arose a smoke, as if it had been out of a chimney, with a whizzing 
 noise, and in a moment all the hair vanished* He exclaimed 
 furiously, * Thou son of a thousand ! dost thou take me for St. 
 Lawrence, that thou burnest mc alive ! with that he let fly such a 
 
36 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 bang at me, that the comb dropped out of my hand, and I could 
 not avoid, in the fright laying the hot iron close along his cheek: 
 this made him give such a shriek as shook the whole house, and he, 
 at the same time, drew his sword to send me to the other world. I, 
 however, recollecting the proverb, ' That one pair of heels is worth 
 two pair of hands,' ran so nimbly into the street, and fled so quickly 
 from that part of the town, that though I was a good runner, I was 
 amazed when I found myself about a mile from home, with the iron 
 in my hand, and the remainder of the whisker sticking to it. As 
 fortune would have it, I was near the dwelling of the person wno 
 was to pay the note my master gave me : I went and received the 
 money, but deemed it proper to detain it in lieu of my three days' 
 wages. 
 
 ' This money was all exhausted in one month, when I was un- 
 der the necessity of returning to my father's house. Before arriving 
 there, I was informed, that he was gone to the country to receive 
 a large sum of money which was due to him, and therefore went 
 boldly in, as if the house had been my own. My grave sisters 
 received me very coldly, and severely blamed me for the money 
 which my father paid for my pranks. Maintaining, however, the 
 honour of my birthright, I keptthemat considerable distance, and the 
 domestic war being thus prolonged, 1 one day lost temper, and was 
 resolved to make them feel the consequences of giving me sour 
 beer; and, though the dinner was upon the table, I threw the dish 
 at my eldest sister, and the beer at the younger, overthrew the 
 table, and marched out of doors on a ramble. Fortunately, how- 
 ever, I was interrupted in my flight by one who informed me, that 
 my father was dead, and in his testament had very wisely left me 
 sole heir and executor. Upon this 1 returned, and soon found the 
 tones and tempers of my sisters changed, in consequence of the 
 recent news. I sold the goods, collected the debts, and feasted all 
 the rakes in town, until not one farthing remained. 
 
 " One evening, a party of my companions carried me along with 
 them, and, opening the door of a certain house* conveyed from 
 thence some trunks, which a faithful dog perceiving, he gave the 
 alarm. The people of the house attacked the robbers, who threw 
 down their burdens to defend themselves: meanwhile, I skulked 
 into a corner all trembling. The watch made their appearance, 
 and seeing three trunks in the street, two men daugerously wound- 
 ed, and myself standing at a small distance, they seized me as cue 
 concerned in the robbery. Next day I was ordered to a place of 
 confinement, and could find no friend to bail me from thence. In 
 
JAMES BATSON. 37 
 
 ten days I was tried, and my defences being frivolous and unsatis- 
 factory, I was about to be hoisted up by the neck, and sent out of 
 the world in a swinging manner, when a reprieve came, and in two 
 months a full pardon. 
 
 " After this horrid fright, (for I was not much disposed to visit 
 the dwelling of my grandfather,) I commenced travelling mer- 
 chant, and, according to my finances, purchased a quantity of 
 wash-balls, tooth-picks, and tooth-powders. Pretending that they 
 came from Japan, Peru, or Tartary, and extolling them to the 
 skies, I had a good sale, particularly among the gentry of the play- 
 house. Upon a certain day, one of the actresses, a beautiful wo- 
 man of eighteen, and married to one of the actors, addressed me, 
 saying, ' She had taken a liking to me, because I was a confident, 
 sharp, forward youth ; and therefore, if I would serve her, she would 
 entertain me with all her heart; and that, when the company were 
 strolling, I might beat the drum and stick up the bills.' Deeming 
 it an easier mode of moving through the world, I readily consented, 
 only requesting two days to dispose of my stock, and to settle all 
 my accounts. 
 
 " In my new profession my employments were various, some of 
 which, though not very pleasant, I endeavoured to reconcile my- 
 self to, inasmuch as they were comparatively better than my former. 
 In a little time I became more acquainted with the tempers of my 
 master and mistress, and became so great a favourite, that fees and 
 bribes replenished my coffers from all expectants and authors who 
 courted their favour. Unfortunately, however, one day, in their 
 absence, I was invited by some of the party to take a walk, and, 
 going into a tavern, commenced playing at cards, till my last far- 
 thing was lost. Determined, if possible, to be revenged of my 
 antagonist, I requested time to run home for more money : it was 
 readily granted. I ran and seized an article belonging to my mis- 
 tress, and pawned it for a small sum, which soon followed my other 
 stores. But evils seldom come alone : I was in this situation not 
 only deprived of my money, but also obliged to decamp." 
 
 The next adventure of Batson was to enlist as a soldier. It hap* 
 Dened, however, that his captain cheating him out of his pay, 
 a grievous quarrel arose. Batson soon found that it was dangerous 
 to reside in Rome and strive with the Pope. His captain, upon 
 some pretence of improper conduct had him apprehended, tried, 
 and condemned to be hanged. The cause of this harsh treatment 
 was a very simple one : " For," says Batson, " I was one day 
 drinking with a soldier, and happened to fall out about a lie given. 
 
38 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 My sword unluckily running into his throat, he kicked up his heels, 
 through his own fault, Tor he ran upon my point, so that he may 
 thank his own hastiness." Upon this our hero says, " as if it had 
 been a thing of nothing, or as a matter of pastime, they gave sen- 
 tence that I should be led in state along the streets, then mounted 
 upon a ladder, kick up my heels before all the people, and take a 
 swing in the open air, as if I had another life in my knapsack. A 
 notary informed me of this sentence, who was so generous that he 
 requested no fee, nor any expenses for his trouble during the trial. 
 The unfeeling gaoler desired me to make my peace with my Maker, 
 without giving me one drop to cheer my desponding heart. In- 
 formed of my melancholy condition, a compassionate friar came to 
 prepare me for another world, since the inhabitants of this were so 
 ready to bid me farewell. When he arrived, he enquired for the 
 condemned person, I answered, ■ Father, I am the man, though 
 you do not know me.' He said, ' Dear child, it is now time for you 
 to think of another world, since sentence is passed, and, therefore, 
 you must employ the short time allowed you in confessing your sins, 
 and asking forgiveness of your offences.' I answered, ' Reverend 
 father, in obedience to the commands of the church, I confess but 
 once in the year, and that is in Lent; but if, according to hu- 
 man laws, I must atone with my life for the crime I have commit- 
 ted, your reverence, being so learned, must be truly sensible that 
 there is no divine precept which says, ' Thou shalt not eat or drink ;' 
 and therefore, since it is not contrary to the law of God, I desire 
 that I may have meat and drink, and then we will discourse of what 
 is best for us both; for I am in a Christian country, and plead the 
 privilege of sanctuary.' 
 
 " The good friar was much moved at finding me so jocular when 
 I ought to be so serious, and began to preach to me a loud and a 
 long sermon upon the parable of the lost sheep, and the repentance 
 of the good thief. But the charity bells that ring when criminals 
 are executed knolling in my ears, made a deeper impression 
 upon my heart than the loud and impressive voice of the 
 friar. I therefore kneeled down before my ghostly father, and 
 cleared the store-house of my sins, and poured forth a dreadful 
 budget of iniquity. He then gave me his blessing, and poor Bat- 
 son seemed prepared to take his flight from a world of misfortunes 
 and insults. 
 
 " But having previously presented a petition to the Marquis 
 D Este, then commanding officer, heat that critical moment called 
 me before him. He oeing a merciful man, respited my sentence, 
 
JAMES BAT80N. 3D 
 
 and sent me to the gallies for ten years. Some friends farther in- 
 terfered, and informed the Marquis, that the accusation and sen- 
 tence against me were effected by the malice of the captain, who 
 was offended because 1 had insisted for the whole of my listing mo- 
 ney. The result was, that he ordered me to be set at liberty, to the 
 disappointment of my captain, together with that of the multitude 
 and the executioner. 
 
 " The deadly fright being over, and my mind restored to tran- 
 quility, I went forth to walk, and to meditate upon what plans I 
 should pursue in the rugged journey of life. Every man has his 
 own fortune, and, as good luck would have it, I again met with 
 a recruiting officer, who enlisted me, and, from partiality, took me 
 home to his own quarters. The cook taking leave of the family, I 
 was interrogated if I understood any thing in that line. To this I 
 replied, as usual, in the affirmative, and was accordingly installed 
 in the important office of cook. 
 
 " In the course of a military life, my master took up his winter 
 residence at Bavaria, in the house of one of the richest men in 
 those parts. To save his property, however, the Bavarian pre- 
 tended to be very poor, drove away all his cattle, and removed all 
 his stores to another quarter. Informed of this, I waited upon him, 
 and acquainted him, that, as he had a person of quality in his 
 house, it would be necessary for him to provide liberally for him 
 and his servants. He replied, that I had only to inform him what 
 provisions I wanted, and he would order them immediately. I then 
 informed him, that my master always kept three tables, one for 
 the gentlemen and pages, a second for the butler and under officers, 
 a third for the footmen, grooms, and other liveries ; that for these 
 tables he must supply one ox, two calves, four sheep, twelve pul- 
 lets, six capons, two dozen of pigeons, six pounds of bacon, four 
 pounds of sugar, two of all sorts of spice ; a hundred eggs, half 
 a dozen dishes of fish, a pot of wine to every plate, and six hogs- 
 heads to stand by. He blessed himself, and exclaimed, ' If all 
 you speak of be only for the servants' tables, the village will not 
 be able to furnish the master's.' To this I replied, that my master 
 was such a good-natured man, that, if he saw his servants and at- 
 tendants well provided, he was indifferent to his own table ; a dish 
 of imperial stuffed meat, with an egg in it, would be sufficient for 
 him. He asked me of what that same imperial stuffed meat was com- 
 posed ? I desired him to send for a grave-digger and a cobbler, and 
 while they were at work, I would inform him what there was want- 
 ing. They were instantly called. I then took an egg, and putting 
 
40 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 it into the body of a pigeon, which ] had already gutted with my 
 knife, said to him, ' Now, sir, take notice ; this egg is in the pi- 
 geon, the pigeon is to be put into a partridge, the partridge into a 
 pheasant, the pheasant into a pullet, the pullet into a turkey, the tur- 
 key into a kid, the kid into a sheep, the sheep into a calf, and the calf 
 into a cow; all these creatures are to be pulled, fleed, and larded, ex- 
 cept the cow, which is to have her hide on ; and as they are through 
 one into another, like a nest of boxe6, the cobbler is to sew ever, 
 one of them that they may not slip out; and the grave-digger fc t 
 throw up a deep trench, into which one load of coals is to be cas 
 and the cow laid on the top of it, and another load abovs her,— t\ 
 fuel set on fire, to burn about four hours, more or less, when II. 
 meat being taken out, is incorporated, and becomes such a delici- 
 ous dish, that formerly the emperors used to dine upon it on their 
 coronation-day; for which reason, and because an egg is the foun- 
 dation of all that curious mass, it is named the ' imperial egg-stuffed 
 meat.' The landlord was not a little astonished, but after some 
 conversation we understood each other, and the master left the mat- 
 ter to my care. 
 
 " In the course of my negotiations with the landlord, I incurred 
 the displeasure of my master, who, discovering my policy, came 
 into the kitchen, seized the first convenient instrument, and be- 
 laboured me most unmercifully. He was, however, punished for 
 his rashness, by the want of a cook for two weeks. 
 
 " The French scoundrels were audacious enough to pay us a 
 visit while we remained here. I was ordered out with the rest, 
 but J kept at the greatest distance, lest any bullet should have mis- 
 tal<m me for some other person. No sooner did I receive the in- 
 diligence that the French were conquered than I ran to the field 
 of battle, brandishing my sword, and cutting and splashing among 
 the dead men. It unfortunately happened, however, that as I 
 stuck one of them with my sword, he uttered a mournful groan, 
 and, apprehensive that he was about to revenge the injury done to 
 him, I ran off with full speed, leaving my sword in his body. In 
 passing along, I met with another sword, which saved my honour, 
 as I vaunted that I had seized it from one in the field of battle. 
 
 " While thus rambling through the field of blood and danger, 
 my master was carried home mortally wounded, who called me a 
 scoundrel, and cried, * Why did you not obey me ?' ' Lest, Sir,' 
 replied I, * I should have been as you now are.' The good man 
 goon breathed his last, leaving me a horse and fifty ducats. 
 
 " Being again emancipated from bonds of servitude I began to 
 
JAME8 BAT80N. 41 
 
 enjoy life, and continued to treat all my acquaintance so long as 
 my money would permit. The return of poverty, however, made 
 me again enlist under the banners of servitude. 
 
 " About this time a singular occurrence happened to me. I 
 chanced to go out into the street, when my eyesight was so affected 
 that 1 could not discern black from green, nor white from grey 
 Observing the candles suspended in a candle maker's shop, and 
 taking them for radishes, I thought there was no great harm if I 
 tasted one of them. Accordingly, laying hold of one, down fell 
 the whole row, and being dashed to pieces upon the floor, a 
 scuffle ensued ; I was taken into custody, and made to pay the 
 damage, which operated to restore my sight to its natural state. 
 
 " Not long after this adventure, I was assailed with love for the 
 fair sex, and, after some sighs and presents, 1 was bound to a wo- 
 man for better or for worse, and continued with her until the charms 
 of the marriage state and the pleasures of domestic life began to 
 pall upon me, and an ardent desire to return to my old course of 
 adventure took possession of my mind. Towards the attainment 
 of this desirable end, 1 one day kicked my wife out of doors, dress- 
 ed myself, and prepared to sally forth. 1 had no sooner effected 
 this liberation, than a tavern was my first resting place to recruit 
 my spirits and to redeem lost time. 
 
 " I at last formed the resolution of returning to my native home, 
 and there spending the evening of my bustling life in calm repose. 
 After travelling many a tedious mile, I got to London. Arrived 
 in the capital, I went directly to my father's house but found it in 
 the possession of another, and my sisters departed this life. As 
 both of them had been married, and had left children, there was 
 no hope of any legacy by their death : 1 was therefore under the 
 necessity of doing something for a living. Finding the gout in- 
 creasing upon me, I, by the advice of an acquaintance, took a pub- 
 lic-house; and, as I understood several languages, I thought I 
 might have many customers from among foreigners." 
 
 Batson then gravely concludes his own narrative in these words: — 
 
 " I intend to leave off my foolish pranks, and, as I have spent 
 my juvenile years and money in keeping company, hope to find 
 some fools as bad as myself, who delight in throwing away their 
 estates and impairing their health." 
 
 He accordingly took the Ram Inn, in Smithfield, and acquired 
 a considerable sum. But, being desirous to make a fortune with 
 one dash, he hastened his end. Among others who put up at his 
 house was a gentleman who had purchased a large estate in the 
 
42 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 country, and was goinp to deliver the cash. The ostler observea 
 to his master, that the bags belonging to the gentleman were 
 uncommonly heavy when he carried them into the house, They 
 mutually agreed to rob, and afterwards to murder him ; and the 
 ostler accomplished the horrid deed. But, differing about the divi- 
 sion of the spoil, the ostler got drunk, and disclosed the whole 
 matter. The house was searched, the body of the gentleman found 
 and both the murderers were seized, tried, and condemned. The 
 ostler died before the fatal day, but Batson was executed, and ac?« 
 cording to the Catholic faith, died a penitent, a year before the 
 restoration of King Charles II. 
 
 JOHN COTTINGTON, 
 
 CALLED 
 
 " MULLED SACK." 
 
 The father of this man was a haberdasher in Cheapside, but, liv- 
 ing above his income, he died so poor that he was interred by the 
 parish. He had eighteen children, fifteen daughters and three 
 sons. Our hero was the youngest of the family, and at the age of 
 eight, was bound apprentice to a chimney-sweeper. In his first 
 year, deeming himself as expert at his profession as his master, he 
 left him, and, acting for himself, soon acquired a great run of 
 business. 
 
 Money now coming in upon him, he frequented tne tavern, and, 
 disdaining to taste of any thing but mulled sack, he acquired that 
 appellation. One evening he there met with a young woman, with 
 whom he was so enamoured, that he " took her for better for worse.". 
 But, not enjoying that degree of comfort in this union which his 
 imagination had painted to him, he frequented the company of 
 other women, until it became necessary to make public contribu- 
 tions to supply their pressing necessities. His first trials were in 
 picking pockets of watches, and any small sums he could find. 
 Among others, he robbed a lady famous among the usurers, of i 
 gold watch set with diamonds, and another lady of a similar piece of 
 luxury, as she was entering the church to hear a celebrated preacher. 
 By the aid of his accomplices, the pin was taken out of the axle of 
 her coach, which fell down at the church door, and in the crowd, 
 Mulled Sack, being dressed as a gentleman, gave her his hand, 
 while he seized her watch. The pious lady did not discover her 
 loss, until she wished to know the length of the s*»rmon, when lu>r 
 
JOHN COTTINGTON. <3 
 
 devout meditations, excited by the consoling exhortation of the 
 pious preacher, were sadly interrupted by the loss of her time- 
 piece. It is related, that, upon a certain occasion, he had the 
 coldness to attempt the pocket of Oliver Cromwell, and that the 
 danger to which he was then exposed determined him to leave that 
 sneaking trade, and in a genteel manner to enter upon the ho- 
 nourable profession of public collector on the highway. 
 
 He entered into partnership with Tom Cheney. Their first 
 adventure was attacking Colonel Hewson, who had raised himself 
 by his merit from a cobbler to a colonel. He was riding at some 
 distance from his regiment upon Hounslow-heath, and, even there, 
 in sight of some of his men, these two rogues robbed him. The pur- 
 suit was keen: Tom's horse failing him, he was apprehended, but 
 Mulled Sack escaped. The prisoner, being severely wounded, 
 intreated that his trial might be postponed on that account. But, 
 on the contrary, lest he should die of his wounds, he was condemned 
 at two o'clock, and executed that evening. 
 
 One Home was the next accomplice of Mulled Sack. His com- 
 panions were, however, generally unfortunate. Upon their first 
 attempt, Home was pursued, taken and executed. 
 
 Thus, twice bereft of his associates, he acted alone, but generally 
 committed his depredations upon the republican party, who then 
 had the wealth of the nation in their possession. Informed that 
 tne sum of four thousand pounds was on its way from London, to 
 pay the regiments of Oxford and Gloucester, he concealed himself 
 behind a hedge which the waggon had to pass, presented his pistols, 
 and the guard supposing that many more were concealed, fled, 
 and left him the immense prize. 
 
 There were a few passengers in the waggon, who were greatly 
 affrighted. He, however, consoled them, assuring them that he 
 would not injure them, saying, " This which I have taken is as 
 much mine as theirs who own it, being all extorted from the public 
 by the rapacious members of our commonwealth, to enrich them- 
 selves, maintain their janizaries, and keep honest people in 
 subjection, the most effectual way to do which is to keep them 
 very poor." 
 
 When not employed as a chimney-sweep, which profession he 
 still occasionally pursued, he dressed in high style, and is said to 
 have received more money by robbery than any man in that age. 
 One day, being informed that the receiver-general was to send up 
 to London six thousand pounds, he entered his house the night 
 before, and rendered that trouble unnecessary. Upon the noise 
 
44 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 which this notorious robbery occasioned, Mulled Sack was appre- 
 nended ; but through cunning, baffling the evidence, or corrupting 
 the jury, he was acquitted. 
 
 In a little time after, he robbed and murdered a gentleman, and, 
 for fear of detection, went to the Continent, and was introduced 
 into the Court of Charles the Second. Upon pretence of giving 
 information, he came home again, and applied to Cromwell, con- 
 fessed his crime, but proposed to purchase his life by important 
 information. But whether he failed in his promise, or whether 
 Cromwell thought that such a notorious offender was unworthy to 
 live, cannot be ascertained ; one thing is certain, that he was tried 
 and executed in the forty-fifth year of his age, in the month of 
 April, 1659. 
 
 His portrait (which is now excessively rare,) has been engraved — 
 and Granger, in his " Biographical History of England,'* says that 
 he never saw the print, but in a very curious and valuable volume 
 of English portraits by the old engravers, collected in the reign of 
 Charles I. in the possession of John Delebere, Esq. of Cheltenham 
 in Glocestershire. The editor of this work has seen upwards of 
 £50 given for an impression of this engraving at a public sale — the 
 print represents him in a fantastic and humorous chimney-sweeper's 
 dress, with a cap and feather, and laced band, his clothes tucked 
 up, and coat ragged ; he has a scarf on his arm ; on his left leg is 
 a fashionable boot with a spur ; on his right foot a shoe with a rose ; 
 he has a sword by his side, and a hollybush and pole on his shoulder; 
 in his left hand is another pole with a horn on it; a pipe, out of 
 which issues smoke is in his right hand, and at the bottom are the 
 following lines — 
 
 " I walke the Strande and Westminster, and scorne 
 To march i* the Cittie, though I bear the home, 
 My feather and my yellow band accorde 
 To prove me courtier ; my boote, spur and sword, 
 My smoking pipe, scarf, garter, rose on shoe, 
 Shew my brave mind, t* affect what gallants do. 
 I dance, sing, drink, and merrilye pass the day. 
 And like a chimney, sweepe all care away."* 
 
 * This medley of the dress of the man of fashion, and the chimney- 
 sweeper is not unlike that which Lassels mentions in his '• Voyage of 
 Italy" where he describes a carnival at Rome; M but never," says the 
 author, " did any mascarade please, like that speculative Italian, who 
 mocked both the French and the Spaniards at once, by walking up and 
 down the street, clad half like a Don, and half like I Mounsi»>r," fee, 
 
 Pttrill, p. 190, &•. 
 
45 
 
 CAPTAIN JAMES HIND. 
 
 The father of Hind was an industrious saddler, a cheerful com- 
 panion, and a good Christian. He was a native of Cnipping Norton, 
 Oxfordshire, where James was born. As our hero was his only son, 
 he received a good education, and remained at school, until he was 
 fifteen years of age. 
 
 He was then sent as an apprentice to a butcher in that place, 
 and continued in that employment during two years. Upon leaving 
 his master's service, he applied to his mother for money to bear 
 his expenses to London, complaining bitterly of the rough and 
 quarrelsome temper of his master. The complying mother yielded, 
 and, giving him three pounds, she, with a sorrowful heart, took 
 farewell of hei beloved son. 
 
 Arrived in the capital, he soon contracted a relish for the plea- 
 sures of the town. His bottle and a female companion became his 
 principal delight, and occupied the greater part of his time. He 
 was unfortunately detected one evening with a woman of the town 
 who had just robbed a gentleman, and along with her confined until 
 the morning. He was acquitted because no evidence appeared 
 against him, but his fair companion was committed to Newgate. 
 
 Captain Hind, soon after this accident, became acquainted with 
 one Allan, a famous highwayman. While partaking of a bottle, 
 their conversation became mutually so agreeable that they consented 
 to unite their fortunes. 
 
 Their measures being concerted, they set out in quest of plunder. 
 They fortunately met a gentleman and his servant travelling along 
 the road. Hind being raw and inexperienced, Allan was desirous 
 to have a proof of his courage and address; he, therefore, remained 
 at a distance, while Hind boldly rode up to them and took from 
 them fifteen pounds, at the same time returning one to bear their 
 expenses home. This he did with so much grace and pleasantry, 
 that the gentleman vowed that he would not injuie a hair of his 
 head though it were in his power. 
 
 About this period, the unfortunate Charles I. suffered death for 
 his political principles. Captain Hind conceived an inveterate 
 enmity to all those who had stained their hands with their sovereign's 
 blood, and gladly embraced every opportunity to wreak his ven- 
 geance upon them. In a short time, Allan and Hind met with thf 
 
46 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 usurper, Oliver Cromwell, riding from Huntingdon to London. 
 They attacked the coach, but Oliver, being attended by seven 
 servants, Allan was apprehended, and it was with no small difficulty 
 that Hind made his escape. The unfortunate Allan was soon after 
 tried, and suffered death for his audacity. The only effect which 
 this produced upon Hind was to render him more cautious in hi* 
 future depredations. He could not, however, think of abandon- 
 ing a course on which he had just entered, and which promised so 
 many advantages. m % 
 
 The captain had ridden so hard to escape from Cromwell and his 
 train that he killed his horse, and, having no money to purchase a 
 substitute, he was under the necessity of trying his fortune upon 
 foot, until he should find means to procure another. It was not 
 long before he espied a horse tied to a hedge with a saddle on and 
 a brace of pistols attached to it He looked round and observed a 
 gentleman on the other side of the hedge. " This is my horse," 
 exclaimed the captain, and immediately vaulted into the saddle. 
 The gentleman called out to him that the horse was his. " Sir, 
 said Hind, " you may think yourself well off that I have left you 
 all the money in your pocket to buy another, which you had best 
 lay out before I meet you again, lest you should be worse used." 
 So saying, he rode off in search of new booty. 
 
 There is another story of Hind's ingenious method of supplying 
 himself with a horse upon a similar occasion. It appears that, being 
 upon a second extremity reduced to the humble station of a footpad, 
 he hired a sorry nag, and proceeded on his journey. He was over- 
 taken by a gentleman mounted on a fine hunter, with a portmanteau 
 behind him. They entered into conversation upon such topics as 
 are common to travellers, and Hind was very eloquent in the praise 
 of the gentleman's horse, which inclined the other to descant upon 
 the qualifications of the animal. There was upon one side of the 
 road a wall, which the gentleman said his horse would leap over. 
 Hind offered to risk a bottle on it, to which the gentleman agreed, 
 and quickly made his horse leap over. The captain acknowledged 
 that he had lost his wager, but requested the gentleman to let hiin 
 try if he could do the same ; to which he consented, and the captain, 
 being seated in the saddle of his companion, rode off at full speed 
 and left him to return the other miserable animal to its owner. 
 
 At another time the captain met the regicide Hugh Peters in 
 Enfield chace, and commanded him to deliver his money. Hugh, 
 who was not deficient in confidence, began to combat Hind with 
 texts 01 scripture, and to cudgel our bold robber with the eighth 
 
CAPTAIN JAMES HIND. a 
 
 commandment: " It is written in the law," said he, that " Thou 
 shalt not steal ;" and furthermore, Solomon, who was surely a very 
 wise man, spoke in this manner; " Rob not the poor, because ho 
 is poor." Hind was desirous to answer him in his own strain, and 
 for that purpose began to rub up his memory for some of the texts 
 he had learned when at school. " Verily," said Hind, " if thou 
 hadst regarded the divine precepts as thou oughtest to have done, 
 thou wouldst not have wrested them to such an abominable and 
 wicked sense as thou didst the wov-'Is of the prophet, when he said, 
 ' Bind their kings with chains, and their nobles with fetters of iron.* 
 Didst thou not then, detestable hypocrite, endeavour, from these 
 words, to aggravate the misfortunes of thy royal master, whom 
 thy cursed republican party unjustly murdered by the gate of his 
 own palace ?" Here Hugh Peters began to extenuate that proceed- 
 ing, and to allege other parts of the scripture in his own defence. 
 " Pray, Sir," replied Hind, " make no reflections against men of 
 my profession, for Solomon plainly said, * do not despise a thief.' 
 But it is to little purpose for us to dispute, the substance of what I 
 have to say is this, deliver thy money presently, or else I shall send 
 thee out of the world to thy master, the devil, in an instant." 
 These terrible words of the captain's so terrified the old Presbyte- 
 rian, that he forthwith gave him thirty broad pieces of gold and 
 then departed. 
 
 But Hind was not satisfied with allowing so bitter an enemy to 
 the royal cause to depart in such a manner. He accordingly rode 
 after him at full speed, and, overtaking him, addressed him in the 
 following language — " Sir, now I think of it, I am convinced this 
 misfortune has happened to you because you did not obey the words 
 of the scripture, which expressly says, ' provide neither gold, nor 
 silver, nor brass in your purses, for your journey,' whereas it is 
 evident that you had provided a pretty decent quantity of gold. 
 However, as it is now in my power to make you fulfil another 
 commandment, I would by no means slip the opportunity ; there- 
 fore pray give me thy cloak." Peters was so surprised that he 
 neither stood still to dispute nor to examine what was the drift of 
 Hind's demand. But he soon made him understand his meaning, 
 when he added, " You know, Sir, our Saviour has commanded, 
 that if any man take away thy cloak, thou must not refuse thy coat 
 also ; therefore I cannot suppose that you will act in direct contra- 
 diction to such an express command, especially as you cannot 
 pretend you have forgot it, seeing I now remind you of that duty." 
 The old Puritan shrugged his shoulders some time before he pre- 
 
48 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 cecded to uncase them; but Hind told him that his delay would be 
 of no service to him, f >r he would be implicitly obeyed, because 
 he was sure that what he requested was entirely consonant with the 
 scripture. He accordingly surrendered, and Hind carried off the 
 cloak. 
 
 The following sabbath, when Hugh ascended the pulpit, he was 
 inclined to pour forth an invective against stealing, and selected 
 for his subject these words. " I have put off my coat, how shall I 
 put it on ?" an honest plain man, who was present, and knew how 
 he had been treated by the robber, promptly cried out, " Upon my 
 word, Sir, I believe there is nobody here can tell you, unless 
 Captain Hind were here. 5 * Which ready answer to Hugh's scrip- 
 tural question put the congregation into such an outrageous fit of 
 laughter, that the parson was made to blush, and descended from 
 his pulpit, without prosecuting the subject farther. 
 
 The captain as before mentioned, indulged a rooted hatred 
 against all those who were concerned in the murder of the late 
 king; and frequently these men fell in his way. He was one day 
 riding on the road, when President Bradshaw, who had sat as 
 judge upon the king, and passed the sentence of death upon him, 
 met with the captain. The place where they came into collision 
 was on the road between Sherbourne and Shaftesbury. Hind 
 rode up to the coach, and demanded Bradshaw's money, who, sup- 
 posing that his very name would convey terror along with it, 
 informed him who he was. " Marry," cried Hind, " I neither fear 
 you nor any king-killing villain alive. I have now as much power 
 over you, as you lately had over the king, and I should do God and 
 my country good service, if I made the same use of it ; but live, 
 villain, to suffer the pangs of thine own conscience, till justice 
 shall lay her iron hand upon thee, and require an answer for thy 
 crimes, in a way more proper for such a monster, who art unworthy 
 to die by any hands but those of the common hangman, or at any 
 other place than Tyburn. Nevertheless, though I spare thy life 
 as a regicide, be assured, that unless thy money is delivered up 
 immediately, thou shalt die for thy obstinacy." 
 
 Bradshaw began to perceive that the case was not now with him 
 as it was when he sat at Westminster Hall, supported by all the 
 strength of the rebellion. Fear took possession of his soul, and 
 discovered itself in his countenance. He put his trembling hand 
 into his pocket, and pulled out about forty shillings in silver, which 
 he presented to the captain, who swore he would that minute shoo 
 tim through the heart, unlets he four' 1 coin of another species 
 
CAPTAIN JAMES HIND. 40 
 
 To save his life, the sergeant pulled out that which he valued next 
 to it, and presented the captain with a purse full of Jacobuses. 
 
 But though Hind had got possession of the cash, he was inclined 
 to detain the sergeant a little longer, and began the following 
 eulogium upon the value of money: — 
 
 " This, sir, is the metal that wins my heart for ever ! O precious 
 gold! I admire and adore thee, as much as either Bradshaw, 
 Prynne, or any other villain of the same stamp, who, for the sake 
 of thee, would sell his Redeemer again, were he upon earth. This 
 is that incomparable medicament, which the republican physicians 
 call the wonder-working plaster ; it is truly catholic in operation, 
 and somewhat of kin to the Jesuit's powder, but more effectual. 
 The virtues of it are strange and various : it maketh justice deaf, 
 as well as blind ; and takes out spots of the deepest treasons as 
 easily as Castile soap does common stains ; it alters a man's con- 
 stitution in two or three days, more than the virtuoso's transfusion 
 of blood can do in seven years. It is a great alexipharmic, and 
 helps poisonous principles of rebellion, and those that use them ; 
 it miraculously exalts and purifies the eye-sight, and makes traitors 
 behold nothing but innocence in the blackest malefactors ; it is a 
 mighty cordial for a declining cause ; it stifles faction and schism as 
 certainly as rats are destroyed by common arsenic; in a word, it 
 makes fools wise men, and wise men fools, and both of them knaves. 
 The very colour of this precious balm is bright and dazzling. L 
 it be properly applied to the fist, that is in a decent manner, and 
 in a competent dose, it infallibly performs all the above-mentioned 
 cures, and many others too numerous to be here mentioned." 
 
 The captain having finished his panegyric upon the virtues 
 of the glittering metal, pulled out his pistol, and again addressed 
 the sergeant, saying, " You and your infernal crew have a 
 long while run on, like Jehu, in a career of blood and impiety, 
 falsely pretending that zeal for the Lord of Hosts has been 
 your only motive. How long you may be suffered to continue in 
 the same course, God only knows. I will, however, for this time, 
 stop your race in a literal sense of the word." And without farther 
 delay, he shot all the six horses that were in the carriage, and left 
 Bradshaw to ponder on the lesson he had received. 
 
 Hind's next adventure was with a company of ladies, in a coach 
 upon the road between Petersfield and Portsmouth. He accosted 
 them in a polite manner, and informed them that he was a protector 
 of the fair sex, and it was purely to win the favour of a hard-hearted 
 mistress ' Pr* l e had travelled the country. " But, ladies," added 
 E 
 
30 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 no, •• X am at this tune reduced to the necessity of asking rel.ef 
 having nothing to carry me on in the intended prosecution of my 
 adventures." The young ladies who had read many romances, 
 could not help concluding that they had met with some Quixote or 
 Amadis de Gaul, who was saluting them in the strains of knight- 
 errantry. " Sir knight," said one of the most jocular of the com- 
 pany, " we heartily commiserate your condition, and are very 
 much troubled that we cannot contribute towards your support j^for 
 we have nothing about us but a sacred depositum, which the laws of 
 your order will not suffer you to violate." The captain was much 
 pleased at having met with such a pleasant lady, and was much 
 inclined to have permitted them to proceed ; but his necessities were 
 at this time very urgent. " May I, bright ladies, be favoured with 
 ♦he knowledge of what this sacred depositum, which you speak of, 
 is, that so I may employ my utmost abilities in its defence, as the 
 laws of knight-errantry require." The lady who had spoken before 
 told him, that the depositum she had spoken of was £3U00, the 
 portion of one of the company, who was going to bestow it upon 
 the knight who had won her good-will by his many past services. 
 " Present my humble duty to the knight," said he, " and be pleased 
 to tell him that my name is Captain Hind ; that out of mere neces- 
 sity I have made bold to borrow part of what, for his sake, I wish 
 were twice as much ; that I promise to expend the sum in defence 
 of injured lovers, and in the support of gentlemen who profess 
 knight-errantry." Upon the name of Captain Hind, the fair ones 
 were sufficiently alarmed, as his name was well known all over 
 England. He, however, requested them not to be affrighted, for 
 he would not do them the least injury, and only requested £1000 
 of the £3000. As the money was bound up in several parcels, the 
 request was instantly complied with, and our adventurer wished 
 them a prosperous journey, and many happy days to the bride. 
 
 Taking leave of the captain for a little, we shall inform our 
 readers of the consequences of this extorted loan of the captain's. 
 When the bride arrived at the dwelling of her intended husband, 
 she faithfully recounted to hiin her adventures upon the road. The 
 avaricious lover refused to accept her hand until her father should 
 agree to make up the loss. Partly because he detested the request, 
 and partly because he had sufficiently exhausted his funds, the 
 father refused to comply. Her hand was therefore declined, because 
 it was emp ied of the third part of her fortune; and the affectionate 
 and high-sp* ited lady died of a broken heart. Hind often declared 
 mat mis adventure cost him great uneasiness, while it tilled him 
 
CAPTAIN JAMES HIND, 51 
 
 with detestation at the dishonourable and base conduct of the 
 .'nercenary lover. 
 
 The transactions of Hind were now become so numerous, and 
 made him so well known, that he was forced to conceal himself in 
 the country. During this cessation from his usual industrious 
 
 abours, his funds became so exhausted, that even his horse was 
 sold to maintain his own life. Impelled by necessity, he often 
 resolved to hazard a few movements upon the highway; but he had 
 trafficked so long in that quarter, that he dared not risk any adven- 
 ture of that kind. Fortune however commiserated the condition of 
 the captain, and provided relief. He was informed that a doctor, 
 who resided in the neighbourhood, had gone to receive a handsome 
 fee for a cure which he had effected. The captain then lived in a 
 small house which he had hired upon the side of a common, and 
 which the doctor had to pass in his journey home. Hind, having 
 long and impatiently waited his arrival, ran up to him, and in the 
 most piteous tone and suppliant language, told the doctor his wife 
 was suddenly seized with illness, that unless she got some assistance, 
 she would certainly perish, and entreated him just to tarry for a 
 minute or two, and lend her his medical assistance, and he would 
 gratefully pay him for his trouble as soon as it was in his power. 
 
 The tender-hearted doctor, moved with compassion, alighted 
 and accompanied him into his house, assuring him that he should 
 be very happy to be of any service in restoring his wife to health. 
 Hind showed the doctor up-stairs ; but they had no sooner entered 
 the door, than he locked it, presented a pistol, showing, at the 
 same time, his empty purse, saying : — " This is my wife ; she has 
 so long been unwell, that there is now nothing at all within her. 
 I know, Sir, that you have a golden remedy in your pocket for her 
 distemper, and if you do not apply it without a word, this pistol 
 shall make the day shine into your body !" The doctor would have 
 been content to have lost his fee, upon condition of being delivered 
 from the importunities of his patient; but it required only a small 
 degree of the knowledge of symptoms to be convinced, that obedi- 
 ence was the only thing which remained for him to observe : he 
 therefore emptied his own purse of forty guineas into that of the 
 captain, and thus left our hero's wife in a convalescent state. Hind 
 then informed the doctor, that he would leave him in possession of 
 his whole house, to reimburse him for the money which he had taken 
 from him. So saying, he locked the door upon the doctor, mount- 
 ed that gentleman's horse, and went in quest of another county, 
 because the one he was in would, in consequence of this adventure, 
 become too dangerous for mm. 
 
»2 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 Hind has been often celebrated for his generosity to the poor; 
 and the following is a remarkable instance of his virtue in that 
 particular. He was upon one occasion extremely destitute of cash, 
 and had waited long upon the road without receiving any supply. 
 An old man, jogging along upon an ass, at length appeared. He 
 rode up to him, and very politely inquired where he was going. 
 ,c To the market, at Wantage,'* said the old man, " to buy me a 
 cow, that I may have some milk for my children." " How many 
 children have you?" The old man answered, " Ten." " Antf 
 how much do you mean to give for a cow ?" said Hind. " I have 
 but forty shillings, master, and that I have been scraping together 
 these two years." Hind's heart ached for the poor man's condition ; 
 at the same time he could not help admiring his simplicity ; but, 
 being in absolute want himself, he thought of an expedient which 
 would serve both himself and the poor old man. U Father," said he, 
 " the money which you have is necessary for me at this time; but 
 I will not wrong your children of their milk. My name is Hind, 
 and if you will give me your forty shillings quietiy, and meet me 
 again this day se'nnight at this place, I promise to make the sum 
 double." The old man reluctantly consented, and Hind enjoined 
 him " to be cautious not to mention a word of the matter to any 
 body between this and that time." The old man came at the ap- 
 pointed time, and received as much as would purchase two cows, 
 and twenty shillings more, that he might thereby have the best in 
 the market. 
 
 Though Hind had long frequented the road, yet he carefully 
 avoided shedding blood ; and the following is the only instance of 
 this nature related of him. He had one morning committed several 
 robberies, and among others, had taken more than £70 from Colonel 
 Harrison, the celebrated Parliamentary general. As the Round* 
 heads were Hind's inveterate foes, the colonel immediately raised 
 the hue-and-cry after him, which was circulated in that part of the 
 country before the captain was aware o» it. At last, however, he 
 received intelligence at one of the inns upon the road, and made 
 every possible haste to fly the scene of danger. In this situation 
 the captain was apprehensive of every person he met upon the road. 
 He had reached the place called Knowl Hill, when the servant of 
 a gentleman, who was following his master, came riding at full 
 speed behind him. Hind, supposing that it was one in pursuit of 
 himself, upon his coming up, turned about, and shot him through 
 the head, when the unfortunate man fell dead upon the spot 
 Fortune favoured the captain at this time, and he got off in safety. 
 The following adventure closes the narrative of Hind's busy life. 
 
CAPTAIN JAMES HIND. 5S 
 
 A i*x Charles I. was beheaded, the Scots remained loyal, proclaimed 
 his son Charles II., and resolved to maintain his right against the 
 usurper. They suddenly raised an army, and, entering England, 
 proceeded as far as Worcester. Multitudes of the English joined 
 the royal army, and among these Captain Hind, who was loyal 
 from principle, and brave by nature. Cromwell was sent by 
 Parliament with an army to intercept the march of the royalists. 
 Both armies met at Worcester, and a desperate and bloody battle 
 ensued. The king's army was routed. Captain Hind had the 
 good fortune to escape, and reaching London, lived in a retired 
 situation. Here, however, he had not remained long, when he 
 was betrayed by one of his intimate acquaintances. It will readily 
 be granted that his actions merited death by the laws of his country, 
 but the mind recoils with horror from the thought of treachery in 
 an intimate friend. 
 
 Hind was carried before the Speaker of the House of Commons, 
 and, after a long examination, was committed to Newgate and 
 loaded with irons; nor was any person allowed to converse with 
 him without a special permission. He was brought to the bar of 
 the Session-house at the Old Baily, indicted for several crimes, but, 
 for want of sufficient evidence, nothing worthy of death could be 
 proved against him. Not long after this, he was sent down to 
 Reading under a strong guard, and, being arraigned before Judge 
 Warburton, for killing George Symson at Knowl Hill, as formerly 
 mentioned, he was convicted of wilful murder. An act of indem- 
 nity for all past offences was issued at this time, and he hoped to 
 have been included ; but an order of council removed him to Wor- 
 cester gaol, where he was condemned for high treason, and hanged, 
 drawn and quartered, on the 24th September, 1652, aged thirty- 
 four years. His head was stuck upon the top of the bridge over 
 the Severn, and the other parts of his body placed upon the gates 
 of the city. The head was privately taken down and interred, but 
 the remaining parts of his body remained until consumed by the 
 influence of the weather. 
 
 In his last moments he declared that his principal depredations 
 had been committed against the republican party, and that nothing 
 grieved him so much as not living to see his royal master restored. 
 In his confession which he made previous to his death, he merely 
 declares that he departed from England and went to the Hague; 
 but after three days went to Ireland, and landed at Galloway, and 
 became corporal to the Marquis of Ormond's life-guard; was 
 wounded at Youghal, in the right arm and hand ; made an escape 
 
54 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 to Duncannon, thence to Sicily, and the Isle of Man; went to 
 Scotland, sent, a letter to his majesty, and represented my services, 
 &c. which was favourably accepted; for no sooner had the king 
 notice of my coming, but immediately had admittance and kissed 
 his hand, and commended me to the Duke of Buckingham, then 
 present ; came to England, was in the engagements of Warrington 
 and Worcester, where I kept the field till the king fled ; and in 
 the evening, the gates being full of flying persons, 1 leaped over 
 the wall by myself only, travelled the country, and lay three days 
 under bushes and hedges, because of the soldiery, till I came to Sir 
 John Packington's woods, where I lay five days; and afterward 
 came on foot to London, by the name of James Brown; lodged 
 five weeks in London, and was taken November 9th, 1651, at 
 Dowry the barber's, near Dunstan's church, in Fleet-street. This 
 is all that was declared by him, who remains captived in close 
 prison in the gaol of Newgate. — James Hind. 
 
 The following are a few verses to his memory, which, if not 
 remarkable for poetical merit, are interesting, and not withoa # . 
 ingenuity. 
 
 TO THE MEMORY OF CAPTAIN HIND, 
 
 BY A POIiT OF HIS OWN TIME 
 
 Whenever death attacks a throne 
 Nature through all her parts must groan, 
 The mighty monarch to bemoan. 
 
 He must be wise, and just, and good, 
 Though not the state he understood, 
 Nor ever spar'd a subject's blood. 
 
 And shall no friendly poet find 
 A monumental verse for Hind, — 
 In fortune less, as great in mind ? 
 
 Hind made our wealth one common stoir;, 
 Ho robb'd the rich to feed the poor, — 
 What did immortal Cassar more ? 
 
 Nay, 'twere not difficult to prove 
 That meaner views did Caesar move-: 
 His was ambition, Hind's was bvr. 
 
CAPTAIN ! jiMES HIND. 
 
 Our English hero sought no crown. 
 Nor that more pleasing bait, renowu i 
 But just to keep off fortune's frown. 
 
 Yet when his country's cause invites. 
 See him assert a nation's rights '. 
 A robber for a monarch fignts ! 
 
 If in due light his deeds we scan, 
 As nature points us out the plan, 
 Hind was an honourable man. 
 
 Honour, the virtue of the biave, 
 To Hind that turn of genius gave, 
 Which made him scorn to be a slave. 
 
 Thus, had his stars conspir'd to raise 
 H13 natal hour, this virtue's praise 
 Had shown with an uncommon blazr. 
 
 Some new epocha had begun 
 From every action he had done ; 
 A city built, a battle won. 
 
 If one's a subject, one at helm, 
 'Tis the same vi'lence, says Anseltn 
 To rob a house or waste a realm. 
 
 Be henceforth, then, for ever join 'o', 
 The names of Caesar and of Hind: 
 In fortune different, one in mind. 
 
 The only portrait of this singular man extant is that which is 
 prefixed to his confession, and which is now very scarce; a copy 
 from this was Tiade by Richardson, in his collection, which is 
 readily to be met witn. There is also an engraving of a man in 
 armour on hors°back, bearing the name of Captain John Hind, 
 but it is not authentic, being a portrait of Charles II. altered. — See 
 Granger's Biographical History of England, vol. 4. 
 
% 
 
 GILDER BOY. 
 
 CALLED 
 
 "JHE BONNIE BOY." 
 
 Tins hero, who, with his merry men, ravaged the Scottish country 
 and pillaged the inhabitants, was descended of a very good family, 
 and born in Perthshire, in the Highlands of Scotland ; his father 
 died just as he was of age, when leaving him an estate of about 
 80 marks a year, he thought himself fully capable to the manage- 
 ment of it, without the advice of his friends : by which means he, 
 in short managed it all away, and run through it in about a year 
 and a half; upon which he soon became very needy, and a fit sub- 
 ject to be moulded into any shape that had an appearance of profit. 
 Having thus, by his irregularities, reduced himself to a very poor 
 condition, he was very burthensome to his mother, who often sup- 
 plied him with money out of her jointure, which he always quickly 
 consumed; but she perceiving that no good admonitions would 
 reclaim his extravagancy, withheld her hand, and would not 
 answer his expectation ; whereupon, lying at her house one night, 
 he arose, entered his mother's bed-chamber, cut her throat 
 with a razor, and then plundered and burnt the house to the 
 ground. 
 
 This unparalleled piece of villainy filled the whole country with 
 horror, and a proclamation was issued out for his apprehension, 
 with a considerable reward to them that should bring him to justice. 
 He then fled into France, where being on a solemn day at the church 
 of St. Denis, in Paris, whilst Cardinal Richlieu was celebrating 
 high mass, at which the king was present, Gilder Roy had his 
 hand in the Cardinal's purse, which was hanging at his side, while 
 he was officiating at the altar; his majesty perceiving the transac- 
 tion, Gilder Roy ; who was dressed like a gentleman, seeing himself 
 discovered, held up his finger to the king, making a sign to tak 
 no notice, and he should see good sport. The king, glad of such 
 an occasion of mirth, let him alone; and a little while after, coming 
 to the Cardinal, he took occasion, in discourse, to oblige him to look 
 into his purse for money, which he missing, began to wonder. The 
 king knowing which way it went, was more than ordinarily 
 merry ; until, being tired with laughter, he was willing that the 
 Cardinal might have again what was taken Iron' him The kiu# 
 
GILDER ROY. 57 
 
 thought that he who took the money was an honest gentleman, and 
 of some account, as he kept his countenance so well; but Gilder 
 Roy had more wit than to come near them, for he acted not in jest, 
 but in good earnest. Then the Cardinal turned all the laughter 
 against the king, who using his common oath, swore by the faith 
 of a gentleman, it was the first time that ever a thief had made 
 him his companion. 
 
 He went from France into Spain, and being one day at Madrid, 
 he went into the Duke of Medina-Celi's house, when that grandee 
 had made a great entertainment for several foreign ministers. 
 Several pieces of plate were locked in a trunk, and stood in a little 
 room next to a hall where the feast was, in which room many ser- 
 vants were waiting for their masters. Gilder Roy went in a Spanish 
 habit, accoutred in all respects like the steward of the house, and 
 going to those that sat on the trunk, desired them to rise, because 
 he was going to use it : which they having done, he caused it to be 
 taken up by some porters that followed him in, and got clear 
 off with it. 
 
 Gilder Roy having been about three years out of his own 
 country, and thinking the villainy which he had perpetrated there 
 was forgotten, returned to Scotland again, where he soon became 
 a most notable highwayman ; and the first person on whom he 
 exercised this unlawful calling, was the Earl of Linlithgow, whom 
 he robbed of a gold watch, a diamond ring, and eighty pieces of 
 gold. In a little time his name became so dreaded through the 
 whole country, that travellers were afraid to pass the roads without 
 a great many in company ; and when money was short with him, 
 he would enter into Athol, Lochaber, Anguis, Mar, Baquehan, 
 Murray, Sutherland, and other shires in the north of Scotland, 
 and drive away the people's cattle, unless they paid him contribu- 
 tion, which they did quarterly, and had his protection ; which was 
 safeguard enough for their own persons, or goods, from receiving 
 damage by him, or any of his gang. 
 
 When Oliver Cromwell embarked at Donaghadey, in the north 
 of Ireland, and landed at Port-Patrick in Scotland, the news 
 thereof came to Gilder Roy, who was then lurking in the Shire of 
 Galloway, accordingly he met him on the road towards Glasgow, 
 Cromwell having only two servants with him, he commanded him to 
 stand and deliver, but the former, thinking three to one was odds, 
 refused to obey ; they then came to an engagement, and several 
 pistols were discharged on both sides for nearly a quarter of an 
 hour ; when the bold robber pretended to yield his antagonists 
 
55 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 the day, by running as fast as he could from them ; they pursu- 
 ed him very closely for near half an hour, and then suddenly 
 turning upon them, the first mischief he did was shooting Oliver's 
 horse, which, falling on his side as soon as wounded, broke the 
 Protector's leg; as for his servants, he shot one of them through the 
 head, and the other, begging quarter, it was granted ; but Oliver 
 being disabled, he had the civility to put him on an ass, and, 
 tying his legs under his belly, sent them both to seek tjjeir 
 fortunes. 
 
 Three of his roguish companions being apprehended and sent to 
 the Tolbooth, a prison in Edinburgh, they broke out, but were soon 
 retaken, and committed to Glasgow gaol ; and soon after they were 
 executed without the gates of the city, and left hanging on the gal- 
 lows, until their carcases should rot and fall away by piece-meal. 
 Gilder Roy highly resenting the indignity thus offered to his 
 comrades in iniquity, vowed revenge ; and it not being long before 
 he met the judge who passed the sentence upon them, in the road 
 going to Aberdeen, he attacked his coach, first stripping his coach- 
 man and two footmen, and tying their hands and feet, threw them 
 into a deep pond; he then robbed the judge of all he had valuable 
 about him, cut the coach to pieces, and shot the four horses that 
 were in it dead. But not being satisfied with this barbarity, he 
 drove the judge into a wood, and bound him to a tree; at night he 
 went with some of his accomplices, and putting him on a horse 
 behind one of them, brought him to the gallows where his three 
 comrades were still hanging; which gallows was made like a turn- 
 stile, only the beams, on each end of which is nailed a strong iron 
 hook, to which the rope is fastened, has no motion. " Now," said 
 Gilder Roy to the judge, " by my soul, mon, as this unlucky struc- 
 ture, erected to break people's craigs, is not uniform without a 
 fourth person taking his lodging here too, 1 must e'en hang you 
 upon the vacant beam.'* Accordingly he was as good as his word , 
 and for fear the government should not know who was the hangman, 
 he sent a letter to the ministers of state, to acquaint them with 
 his proceedings. This insolence caused the legislature to contrive 
 ways and means to suppress the audaciousness of Gilder Roy, 
 and his companions, who were dreaded far and near; and AinODg 
 them one Jennet, a lawyer, promoted the law for hanging a high- 
 wayman first, and judging him afterwards; which law being ap- 
 proved of, it received the sanction of the Government, without 
 any contradiction, and was often put in force against many gen- 
 tlemen of the road. 
 
GILDElt HOY. 5¥ 
 
 Gilder Roy being thus successful in his villanies, grew so 
 intolerably wicked, that it was his delight, not only to rob on the 
 highway, but also to murder those who refused to give him what 
 they had, and burn houses and barns where the least affront was 
 offered him. But at last a second proclamation being issued for 
 his apprehension, with a reward of one thousand marks for any 
 one that should take him, dead or alive, one Margaret Cunningham* 
 with whom he kept company, betrayed him when he came next to 
 her house; which being surrounded by about fifty men, and he 
 sensible by whom he was trepanned, ran into her bed-chamber, 
 and murdered her ; he then returned to the room from whence he 
 came, and defended himself with such undaunted bravery, that 
 before they could take him, he killed eight of them ; but then he 
 was overpowered and put into a dismal dungeon, in the castle of 
 Edinburgh, where he had heavy shackles put on his legs, strong 
 chains about his middle, and his hands fastened behind him ; in 
 that state he was kept three days and nights, without any allowance 
 of victuals or drink ; when, without any trial, he was conveyed by 
 a strong guard to the market-cross in Edinburgh, and was there 
 hanged on a gibbet, thirty feet high, in April, 1658, aged M years. 
 He was afterwards hung in chains on another gibbet, erected 
 ten feet higher, between that city and Leith. 
 
 If traditional report be true, it would seem that Gilder Roy belong- 
 ed to the proscribed " clan Gregor ;" and in these traditions 
 many other romantic exploits are told of him. The ancient 
 ballad recording his fall was composed not long after his death 
 by a young woman who unfortunately was attached to him. 
 That the ballad was popular in England before 1650 is evident 
 from a black-letter copy of it, printed at least as early as that 
 date. Another copy occurs, with some few variations, in Playford's 
 ;< Wit and Mirth," Vol. III. 1702. The sentiments and language 
 of the olden time are not always in strict accordance with the 
 modern prudery: we are no less prurient, but we are infinitely 
 more precise. Certain freedoms have been skillfully pruned aw.y 
 by the judicious hand of Miss Halket, of Pitferran, who afte • 
 wards married Sir Henry Wardlaw, of Pitreavie, in Fifeshire 
 This amiable and accomplished lady, whose talent is well known as 
 the authoress of '* Hardiknute," has softened, expunged, and 
 added, as necessity might require; and the result of her labours we 
 now present to the public: — 
 
«> ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 BALLAD. 
 
 Wilder Roy was a bonnie boy, 
 
 Had roses tull his shoone, 
 His stockings were of silken so/, 
 
 Wi garters hanging donne : 
 It was, I weene, a comelie sight 
 
 To see sae trim a boy ; 
 He was my jo and heart's delight, 
 
 My handsome Gilder Roy. 
 
 Oh, sike twa charming een he had, 
 
 A breath as sweet as rose ; 
 He never ware a Highland plaid, 
 
 But costly silken cloathes : 
 He gain'd the luve of ladies gay, 
 
 Nane e'er tull him was coy ; 
 Ah, wae is mee ! I mourn the day 
 
 For my dear Gilder Roy. 
 
 My Gilder Roy and I were born 
 
 Baith in one toun together ; 
 We scant were seven years beforn 
 
 We gan to luve each other. 
 Our dadies and our mammies thej 
 
 Were filled wimickle joy, 
 To think upon the bridal day 
 
 'Twixt me and Gilder Roy. 
 
 For Gilder Roy, that luve of min» 
 
 Gude faith, I freely bought 
 A wedding sark of Holland fine, 
 
 Wi silken flowers wrought; 
 And he gied me a wedding nn$r 
 
 Which I receiv'd wi joy ; 
 Nae lad nor lassie eir could sinj? 
 
 .Like me and Gilder Roy. 
 
 Wi mickle joy we spent our pnm i 
 Till we were baith sixteen, 
 
 And aft we past the langsome time 
 Ainung the leaves sae green : 
 
GILDER ROY, M 
 
 Aft on the banks we'd sit us thair. 
 
 And sweetly kiss and toy ; 
 Wi garlands gay wad deck my hair 
 
 My handsome Gilder Roy. 
 
 Oh, that he still had been content. 
 
 Wi me to lead his life , 
 But, ah ! his manfu' heart was bent 
 
 To stir in feates of strife. 
 And he in many a venturous deed 
 
 His courage bauld wad try ; 
 And now this gars mine heart to bleed 
 
 For my dear Gilder Roy. 
 
 And when of me his leave he tuik, 
 
 i'he tears they wat mine ee : 
 I gave tull him a parting luik, 
 
 " My benison gang wi thee: 
 God speed thee well, mine ain dear heart i 
 
 For gane is all my joy, 
 My heart is rent sith we maun part, 
 
 My handsome Gilder Roy !" 
 
 My Gilder Roy, baith far and near, 
 
 Was fear'd in every toun, 
 And bauldly bare away the gear 
 
 Of money a lowland loun. 
 Nane e'ir durst meet him man to man, 
 
 He was sae brave a boy; 
 At length with numbers he was ta'en. 
 
 My winsome Gilder Roy. 
 
 Wae worth the loun that made the laws 
 
 To hang a man for gear ; 
 To reave of life for ox or ass, 
 
 For sheep, or horse, or mare ! 
 Had not their laws been made sae stncl \, 
 
 I neir had lost my joy ; 
 Wi sorrow neir had wat my cheek 
 
 ifor my dear Gilder Roy. 
 
ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 Giff Gilder Itoy had done amisse, 
 
 He maught hae banished been ; 
 Ah ! what sair cruelty is this, 
 
 To hang sike handsome men ! 
 To hang the flower o' Scottish land, 
 
 Sae sweet and fair a boy ! 
 Nae lady had sae white a hand 
 
 As thee, my Gilder Roy. 
 
 Of Gilder Roy sae traid tney were, 
 
 They bound him mickle strong; 
 Tall Edenburrow they led him thair, 
 
 And on a gallows hung : 
 They hung him high aboon the rest, 
 
 That was sae trim a boy; 
 Thair dyed the youth whom 1 lued bpit 
 
 My handsome Gilder Roy. 
 
 Thus having yielded up his breath, 
 
 I bore his corpse away ; 
 W»i tears, that trickled for his death, 
 
 1 wash't his comelye clay; 
 And siker in a grave sae deep 
 
 I laid the dear lued boy ; 
 And now for ever maun I weep 
 
 My winsome Gilder Roy ! 
 
 CAPTAIN PHILIP STAFFORD. 
 
 This singular character was a native of Berkshire, and born about 
 the year 1622. His father had a small estate, with which, by 
 cultivating it himself, he rendered his family comfortable. Philip 
 was an only child, and therefore received such an education as 
 the place and circumstances of his father could afford. But while 
 at school, he was more distinguished for boxing and wrestling, than 
 for the exercise of his mental faculties. 
 
 When the time generally allotted to young men of a moderate 
 fortune at school was expired, Philip was taken home, and destined 
 
CAPTAIN PHILIP STAFFORD. 63 
 
 by his father to follow the plough. In his youthful years he imbibed 
 the principles of religion and of loyalty which were current in 
 that eventful period ; when war commenced between Charles I. 
 and his subjects, Stafford was one of the first who joined the royal 
 standard. He continued in the army during that successful rebel- 
 lion, but his actions are involved in the obscurity of the times. It 
 is obvious, however, that he signalized himself, as he received the 
 name of captain during that war. 
 
 Upon the death of Charles, the opposite party were invested with 
 all power, and the loyalists were constrained to conceal themselves 
 from the fury of their adversaries. The small estate of Stafford 
 was, among many others, sequestrated, and he was thereby deprived 
 of all means of subsistence. In these desperate circumstances he 
 formed the resolution of making depredations upon th.e enemies of 
 his late king, and he considered that it was just to levy contribu- 
 tions upon those who had taken away the life of his prince and had 
 deprived him of his paternal inheritance. 
 
 He first cast his eyes upon an old republican, who had drunk 
 deep in the troubled stream of the times, and had married a young 
 lady in order to obtain her fortune. In the character of a servant, 
 and assuming the dress and the language of the party, he succeeded 
 in hiring himself as a servant into that family. By his insinuating 
 address and engaging manners, he won the affections of his master, 
 and was soon admitted to enter into conversation with him and 
 his mistress, and in the most dexterous manner imitated the reli- 
 gious phrases and sentiments of the Puritans. But he soon employ- 
 ed language of a different kind to his mistress ; alienated her affec- 
 tions from her lawful husband, and so grossly imposed upon him, 
 that, when he would sometimes unexpectedly find them alone and 
 in close conversation, he would conclude that religion was the 
 subject of their earnest conversation. Under the disguise of reli- 
 gion, and emboldened by the credulity of the old husband, Stafford 
 remained with increasing favour in the family, until an heir was 
 born to enjoy the fortune of the good old republican. 
 
 Indifferent to all the ties of honour and of religion, Stafford and 
 the lady carried on their criminal correspondence : and often amus- 
 ed themselves with the credulity of the husband and his unabated 
 attachment to Stafford. In the moments of wanton levity, the 
 lady had made him a present of a ring and also of some jewels, and 
 had not only informed him of a quantity of jewels which her hus- 
 band had collected, but actually showed him the place where they 
 were deposited. The violent passion of avarice now assumed its 
 
C0 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 dominion over him, and he formed the resolution to seize the cabinet 
 of jewels, and even to abandon his favourite mistress in quest of 
 new adventures. 
 
 But his plan could not be effected without the aid of some other 
 person, and he was iong doubtful whom he could trust in so delicate 
 and important a matter. At last he fixed upon one named Tom 
 Perry, the son of a French refugee, whom he had formerly known 
 at school, and with whose temper and disposition he was thorougWy 
 acquainted. He, accordingly, provided a key to the door of the 
 place where the jewels were deposited, took care to have the window 
 so broken and injured that it appeared to have suffered violence 
 from without, had a ladder brought and laid at the foot of the window, 
 and such noise made as might be heard by some of the servants. 
 Stafford, always attentive to his duty and his master's interest, was 
 the first to give the alarm in the morning. The rest of the servants 
 were called, they remembered to have heard the noise, they saw the 
 ladder, and suspicion could rest upon none of them, far less upon 
 the faithful Stafford. 
 
 Perry was successful in disposing of the jewels at a good price, 
 and received such a gratuity as was sufficient to retain him in the 
 service of his new employer, who remained for some time in his 
 station to prevent the shadow of guilt staining the fair character 
 which he had so dexterously maintained. 
 
 Fully convinced that he could always render the females subser- 
 vient to the accomplishment of his plans, Stafford next directed 
 his attack upon a very handsome lady who had been two years 
 married. To his no small mortification, however, he found that 
 she estimated her favours at the sum of one hundred guineas. 
 When all his attempts to alter her first proposal were unsuccessful, 
 his inventive mind devised the following scheme to effect his purpose. 
 Being upon friendly terms with the husband, and frequently visiting 
 in the family, he one day took an opportunity to borrow a hundred 
 guineas, under the pretence that he stood in need of that sum to 
 complete a £500 purchase, in the meantime showing him £4U) 
 which he had in reserve from the late sale of the jewels. He readily 
 obtained his request, and, having arranged matters with the lady, 
 he came according to appointment, one day to her house, when 
 several persons were at dinner and the husband absent. He im- 
 mediately pulled out his purse, and addressed her, saying, " I have 
 borrowed one hundred guineas from your husband, and as he is 
 not here, 1 will leave the money with you, and the parties here 
 present will be witnesses to the payment." The good lady, uuac- 
 
Page 67, 
 
CAPTAIN PHILIP STAFFORD. K> 
 
 quainted with the fact that he had borrowed that sum from her 
 husband, only supposed that this was a dexterous manoeuvre to 
 prevent suspicion of his intentions towards her and received the 
 money with all good humour. It is unnecessary to relate the sequel 
 of the adventure. 
 
 A few days after, Stafford took an opportunity, when the husband 
 was present, to inform him, in the presence of several guests at 
 his table, that he had repaid the hundred guineas to his wife that 
 he had lately borrowed of him. The lady changed colour, but could 
 not deny the fact, and the husband was satisfied with the punctual 
 repayment of his money. Nor was Stafford contented with the 
 success of his adventure, but took care to have the same whispered 
 all over the neighbourhood. 
 
 One day, when Stafford was on his way to his native country, 
 with a design only to see his relations, and not to rob any one, as 
 at that time he was flush of money, fortune threw in his way a 
 considerable prize, which he could not. refuse. At Maidenhead 
 Thicket he overtook an old gentleman, whom, from his appearance, 
 he immediately supposed to be what was then quaintly termed 
 " one of the godly.'* He accosted the traveller in his usual polite 
 manner, and, soon discovering the turn of the old gentleman to 
 be that of a puritanical fanatic, he so ordered his behaviour as to 
 be in perfect harmony and accordance with his neighbour. The 
 brethren were delighted with the good fortune which had thrown 
 them together ; and the old gentleman in particular expatiated upon 
 the goodness of Providence in sending him such a companion : 
 " but," said he, tl we must ascribe every thing that befalls us to a 
 wise Providence, and, for my part, I am always content with my 
 lot, as being assured in myself that all things are for the best, and 
 work together for the good of the elect," of whom (as Stafford 
 soon discovered by his conversation,) he considered himself one. 
 Being arrived however, at the thickest part of the forest, Stafford 
 addressed him in his real character, saying, that " as he was a man 
 who could be content with any thing, and considered every thing 
 as ordered for the best, he had no occasion for so much money as 
 he carried with him;" and presenting a pistol to his breast, de- 
 manded his purse, and told him he would pray that a good supper 
 and a warm bed might be waiting him at the next inn. He received 
 the old gentleman's purse with forty guineas in it, and, after lead- 
 ing him into the middle of the thicket, tied him to a tree, and 
 galloped off through byeways into Buckinghamshire. 
 
 He was overtaken by darkness before he had gained the high 
 F 
 
66 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 road, but observing a light at some distance, he rode up to it, and 
 found it to proceed from a neat, comfortable country lodging. He 
 knocked at the door, and said that, having lost his way, and being 
 oenighted, if he could be favoured with a lodging for the night, he 
 would thankfully pay for it. The mistress of the house had been 
 expecting her husband from London; and thinking it was he, she 
 came to the door, when, hearing his story, and believing him, from 
 his appearance to be a gentleman, she ordered his horse to the sta41e, 
 and invited him to partake of a comfortable supper she had prepar- 
 ed for her husband, who seemed to have been detained longer than 
 she expected. Stafford wondering at his good fortune, was resolved 
 to make the best of his golden opportunity. But the vicious habits 
 in which he had now become a proficient, had gained such an 
 ascendancy over his natural disposition, that in this instance he 
 was guilty of more than common felony : he, with very little grati- 
 tude for the favours he had received, tied the lady to her bed, and 
 forced her to discover to him where he should find the money and 
 plate belonging to her husband. Having secured about £300 worth 
 of booty, he went to the stable, mounted his horse, and proceeded 
 to London by the most private way he could find, to avoid detection. 
 
 By success in his profession, Stafford amassed a considerable sum 
 of money : in order, therefore, to avoid discovery, as he was now 
 well known all over the country, he retired to a little village in 
 the north of England, and there lived in the most retired and frugal 
 manner. The more to avoid suspicion, he assumed the appearance 
 of sanctity, attended the church and the private meetings; and, 
 exercising his talents, soon acquired great popularity as a speaker 
 among (he simple country people. After he had continued there 
 about a year, the minister of the congregation dying, he, in a little 
 time after, was called to the charge, and with seeming reluctance 
 commenced preacher, with the annual income of £40. In this 
 station, Stafford acquitted himself to the entire satisfaction of the 
 congregation, until his predilection for the fair sex rendered it 
 necessary for him secretly to retire from that place. Upon his 
 departure, however, he took care to carry off the plate and linen 
 of the church, to a considerable amount. 
 
 The Captain now assumed his proper character. About four miles 
 from Reading he overtook a wealthy fanner, who was returning 
 from selling some wheat, and entered into conversation with him, 
 and, learning that he was possessed of a certain sum of money, he 
 presented a pistol to his breast, threatening him with instant death 
 unless he delivered up his purse. The terrified farmer instantly 
 
CLAUDE DU VALL. 67 
 
 complied, and gave Stafford £33. But he had scarcely taken leave 
 of the farmer, when two gentlemen, well mounted, came up to 
 kirn, and being informed of what had happened, rode after Staffora, 
 and in the space of an hour overtook and dismounted him, seized 
 the money, and carried him before a justice of the peace, who 
 committed him to prison. At the ensuing assizes he was tried and 
 condemned. During his confinement he lived in a sumptuous 
 manner, was visited by many of his own profession, who formed a 
 plan for his deliverance, and agreed to make him their leader. The 
 matter, however, transpiring, the day of his execution was changed, 
 and Stafford miserably disappointed. 
 
 The Captain was dressed in a fine light coloured suit of clothes, 
 with a nosegay in his breast, and appeared perfectly unconcerned. 
 In passing a tavern, he called for a pint of wine, and drank it off, 
 informing the landlord that he would pay him when he returned. 
 Arrived at the place of execution, he looked wistfully around, and 
 endeavoured to prolong the time ; but when he saw none coming to 
 his assistance, he became pale and trembled greatly. When about 
 to be turned off, he presented the Sheriff with a paper, containing 
 a short statement of his adventures, and the causes which led him 
 to embrace the mode of life which brought him to such a fatal end. 
 
 CLAUDE DU VALL. 
 
 Some, of our readers may object to the introduction into this work 
 of the life of any highwayman, however celebrated, whose fortune 
 it was to have been born in France ; but, without insisting upon the 
 celebrity of the person whose life we are about to narrate, it will 
 be sufficient in reply to say, that many of the adventures achieved 
 by Claude du Vail were performed rn this country, and that he is 
 accordingly, to all intents and purposes, although a Frenchman 
 by birth, an English highwayman by profession. 
 This noted person was born at Domfront, in Normandy.* His 
 
 • We find, by reference to an old life of Du Vail, published in 1670, 
 that Domfront was a place by no means unlikely to have produced our 
 adventurer. Indeed, it appears that common honesty was a most un- 
 common ingredient in the moral economy of the place, as the following 
 curious extract from the work in question will abundantly testify : — 
 
 " In the days of Charles IX. the Curate of Domfront, out of his own 
 
08 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 father was a miller, and brought up his son in the Catholic faith. 
 giving him an education suited to the profession, for which he was 
 intended, — namely, that of a footman. But, although his father 
 was careful to train up his son in the religion of his ancestors, he 
 was himself utterly without religion. He talked more of good cheer 
 than of the church ; of sumptuous feasts than of ardent faith ; of 
 good wine than of good works. 
 
 Du Vall's parents were exempted from the trouble and expense 
 of rearing their son at the age of thirteen. We first find him at 
 Rouen, the principal city of Normandy, in the character of a stable- 
 boy. H ere he fortunately found retour horses going to Paris ; upon 
 one of these he was permitted to ride, on condition of assisting to 
 dress them at night. His expenses were likewise defrayed by some 
 English travellers whom he met upon the road. 
 
 Arrived at Paris, he continued at the same inn where the English- 
 men put up, and, by running on messages, or performing the meanest 
 offices, subsisted for a while. He continued in this humble station 
 until the restoration of Charles II., when multitudes from the 
 Continent returned to England. In the character of a footman to a 
 person of quality, Du Vail also repaired to this country. The 
 universal joy which seized the nation upon that happy event con- 
 taminated the morals of all: riot, dissipation, and every species of 
 profligacy abounded. The young and sprightly French footman 
 
 head began a strange innovation and oppression in that parish ; that is, 
 he absolutely refused to baptize any of their children, if they would not, 
 at the same time, pay him his funeral fees : and what was worse, he would 
 give them no reason for this alteration, but only promised to enter bond 
 for himself and successors, that hereafter, all persons paying so at their 
 christening shall be buried gratis. What think ye the poor people did in 
 this case ? They did not pull his surplice over his ears, nor tear his mass- 
 book, nor throw crickets at his head : no, they humbly desired him to 
 alter his resolutions, and amicably reasoned with him; but ho, being ■ 
 capricious fellow, gave them no other answer, but * What 1 have done, 
 I have done ; take your remedy where you can And it; it is not lor men 
 of my coat to give an account of my actions to the laity :' which was a 
 surly and quarrelsome answer, and unbefitting a priest. Yet this did not 
 provoke his parishioners to speak one ill word against his person or func- 
 tion, or to do any illegal act. They only took the regular way of com- 
 plaining of him to his ordinary, the Archbishop of Kouen. Upon summons, 
 he appears ; the Archbishop takes him up roundly, tells him he deserves 
 deprivation, if that can be proved which is objected against him, and 
 asked him, what he had to say for himself? After his due reverence, he 
 answers, that he acknowledges the fact, to save the time of examining 
 
CLAUDE DU VALL. GP 
 
 entered keenly into these amusements. His funds, however, being 
 soon exhausted, he deemed it no great crime for a Frenchman to 
 exact contributions from the English. In a short time, he became 
 so dexterous in his new employment, that he had the honour of 
 being first named in an advertisement issued for the apprehending 
 of some notorious robbers. 
 
 One day, Du Vail and some others espied a knight and his lady 
 travelling along in their coach. Seeing themselves in danger of 
 being attacked, the lady resorted to a flageolet, and commenced 
 playing, which she did very dexterously. Du Vail taking the hint, 
 pulled one out of his pocket, began to play, and in this posture 
 approached the coach. " Sir," said he to the knight, " your lady 
 performs excellently, and 1 make no doubt she dances well; will 
 you step out of the coach, and let us have the honour to dance a 
 courant with her upon the heath I" " I dare not deny any thing, 
 sir," replied the knight readily, " to a gentleman of your quality 
 and good behaviour; you seem a man of generosity, and your 
 request is perfectly reasonable." Immediately the footman opened 
 the door, and the knight out. Du Vail leapt lightly off his horse, 
 and handed the lady down. It was surprising to see how gracefully 
 he moved upon the grass ; scarcely a dancing master in London 
 but would have been proud to have shown such agility in a pair of 
 pumps, as Du Vail evinced in a pair of French riding boots. As 
 
 witnesses ; but desires his grace to hear his reasons, and then to do unto 
 him as he shall see cause. ' I have,' says he, been curate of this parish 
 seven years ; in that time I have, one year with another, baptized a hun- 
 dred children, and not buried one. At first I rejoiced at my good fortune 
 to be placed in so good an air ; but, looking into the register-book, I 
 found, for a hundred years back, near the same number yearly baptized, 
 and no one above five years old buried ; and which did more amaze me, 
 I find the number of communicants to be no greater now than they were 
 then. This seemed to me a great mystery ; but, upon farther enquiry, I 
 found out the true cause of it ; for all that were born at Domfront were 
 lianged at Rouen. I did this to keep my parishoners from hanging, encou- 
 raging them to die at home, the burial duties being already paid.' 
 
 " The Archbishop demanded of the parishioners, whether this was true 
 or not ? They answered, that too many of them came to that unlucky 
 end at Kouen. ' Well, then,' says he, ' I approve of what the curate 
 has done, and will cause my secretary, in perpetuam rei memoriam, to 
 make an act of it ;' which act the curate carried home with him, and the 
 parish cheerfully submitted to it, and have found much good by it ; for 
 within less than twenty years, there died fifteen of natural deaths, and 
 now there die three or four yearly." 
 
70 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 soon as the dance waj over, he handed the lady to the coach, but 
 just as the knight was stepping in, " Sir," said he, " you forget 
 to pay the music." His worship replied, that he never forgot such 
 things, and instantly put his hand under the seat of the coach, 
 pulled out £ 100 in a bag, which he delivered to DuVall, who received 
 it with a very good grace, and courteously answered, " Sir, you 
 are liberal, and shall have no cause to regret your generosity ; this 
 £100, given so handsomely, is better than ten times the sum talym 
 by force. Your noble behaviour has excused you the other £.300 
 which you have with you." After this, he gave him his word that 
 he might pass undisturbed, if he met any other of his crew, and 
 then wished them a good journey. 
 
 At another time, Du Vail and some of his associates met a coach 
 upon Blackheath, full of ladies, and a child with them. One of 
 the gang rode up to the coach, and in a rude manner robbed the 
 ladies of their watches and rings, and even seized a silver sucking- 
 bottle of the child's. The infant cried bitterly for its bottle, and 
 the ladies earnestly entreated he would only return that article to 
 the child, which he barbarously refused. Du Vail went forward 
 to discover what detained his accomplice, and, the ladies renewing 
 their entreaties to him, he instantly threatened to shoot his com- 
 panion, unless he returned that article, saying, " Sirrah, can't 
 you behave like a gentleman, and raise a contribution without 
 stripping people ; but, perhaps, you had occasion for the sucking- 
 bottle yourself, for, by your actions, one would imagine you were 
 hardly weaned." This smart reproof had the desired effect, and 
 Du Vail, in a courteous manner, took his leave of the ladies. 
 
 One day Du Vail met Roper, master of the hounds to Charles 
 II., who was hunting in Windsor Forest; and, taking the advan- 
 tage of a thicket, demanded his money, or he would instantly lake 
 his life. Roper, without hesitation, gave him his purse, containing 
 at least fifty guineas : in return for which, Du Vail bound him neck 
 and heel, tied his horse to a tree beside him, and rode across the 
 country. 
 
 It was a considerable time before the huntsmen discovered their 
 master. The squire, being at length released, made all possible 
 haste to Windsor, unwilling to venture himself into any more 
 thickets for that day, whatever might be the fortune of the hunt. 
 Entering the town, he was accosted by Sir Stephen Fox, who 
 inquired if he had had any sport. " Sport !" replied Roper, in a 
 great passion, " yes, sir, I have had sport enough from a villain 
 who made me pay full dear for it; he bound me neck and heels, 
 
CLAUDE DU VALL. 71 
 
 contrary to my desire, and then took fifty guineas from me to pay 
 him for his labour, which I had much rather he had omitted." 
 
 England now became too contracted a sphere for the talents of 
 our adventurer; and, in consequence of a proclamation issued for 
 his detection, and his notoriety in the kingdom, Du Vail retired 
 to his native country. At Paris he lived in a very extravagant style, 
 and carried on war with rich travellers and fair ladies, and proudly 
 coasted that he was equally successful with both ; but his warfare 
 with the latter was infinitely more agreeable, though much less 
 profitable, than with the former. 
 
 There is one adventure of Du Vail at Paris, which we shall lay 
 before our readers. There was in that city a learned Jesuit, con- 
 fessor to the French King, who had rendered himself eminent, 
 both by his politics and his avarice. His thirst for money was 
 insatiable, and increased with his riches. Du Vail devised the 
 following plan to obtain a share of the immense wealth of this 
 pious father. 
 
 To facilitate his admittance into the Jesuit's company, he dressed 
 himself as a scholar, and, waiting a favourable opportunity, he 
 went up to him very confidently, and addressed him as follows : 
 " May it please your reverence, I am a poor scholar, who have been 
 several years travelling over strange countries, to learn experience 
 in the sciences, principally to serve my country, for whose especial 
 advantage I am determined to apply my knowledge, if I may be 
 favoured with the patronage of a man so eminent as yourself." 
 " And what may this knowledge of yours be ?" replied the father, 
 very much pleased, " if you will communicate any thing to me 
 that may be beneficial to France, I assure you, no proper encou- 
 ragement shall be wanting on my side." Du Vail, upon this grow- 
 ing bolder, proceeded: " Sir, I have spent most of my time in the 
 study of alchemy, or the transmutation of metals, and have profited 
 so much at Rome and Venice, from great men learned in that 
 science, that 1 can change several metals into gold, by the help of 
 a philosophical powder which I can prepare very speedily." 
 
 The father confessor was more elated with this communication 
 than all the discoveries he had obtained in the way of his profession, 
 and his knowledge even of his royal penitent's most private secrets 
 gave him less delight than the prospect of immense riches which 
 now burst upon his avaricious mind. " Friend," said he, "such 
 a thing as this will be serviceable to the whole state, and particu- 
 larly grateful to the king, who, as his affairs go at present, stands 
 in need of such a curious invention. But you must let me '.ee 
 
75 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 some proof of your skill, before 1 credit what you say. so far as to 
 communicate it to his majesty, who will sufficiently reward you, 
 if what you promise be demonstrated. Upon this, the confessor 
 conducted Du Vail to his house, and furnished him with money to 
 erect a laboratory, and to purchase such other materials as were 
 requisite, in order to proceed in this invaluable operation, charging 
 him to keep the secret from every living soul. Utensils being 
 fixed, and every thing in readiness, the Jesuit came to witness 
 the wonderful operation. Du Vail took several metals and minerals 
 of the basest sort, and put them in a crucible, his reverence view- 
 ing every one as he put them in. Our alchymist had prepared a 
 hollow tube, into which he conveyed several sprigs of real gold ; 
 with this seeming stick he stirred the operation, which, with its 
 heat, melted the gold, and the tube at the same time, so that it 
 sank imperceptibly into the vessel. When the excessive fire had 
 consumed all the different materials which he had put in, the gold 
 remained pure to the quantity of an ounce and a half. This the 
 Jesuit ordered to be examined, and, ascertaining that it was actu- 
 ally pure gold, he became devoted to Du Vail, and, blinded with 
 the prospect of future advantage, credited everything our impostor 
 said, furnishing him with whatever he demanded, in hopes of being 
 made master of this extraordinary secret. Thus were our alchymist 
 and Jesuit, according to the old saying, as " great as two pick- 
 pockets." Du Vail was a professed robber; and what is a court 
 favourite but a picker of the people's pockets ? So that it was two 
 sharpers endeavouring to outsharp one another. The confessor was 
 as candid as Du Vail could wish ; he showed him all his treasures, 
 and several rich jewels which he had received from the king, ho- 
 ping, by these obligations, to incline him to discover his wonderful 
 secrets with more alacrity. In short, he became so importunate, 
 that Du Vail was apprehensive of too minute an enquiry, if he de- 
 nied the request any longer; he therefore appointed a day when 
 the whole was to be disclosed. In the mean time, he took an 
 opportunity of stealing into the chamber where the riches wttt 
 deposited, and where his reverence generally slept, after dinner; 
 finding him in deep repose, he gently bound him, then took his 
 keys, and unhoarded as much of his wealth as he could carry off 
 unsuspected; after which, he quickly took leave of him and 
 France. 
 
 It is uncertain how long Du Vail continued his depredations after 
 his return to England; but we arc informed, that in a lit of intox- 
 ication he was detected at the Hole-in-the-Wall, in Chandon- 
 
CAPTAIN KICHARD DUDLEY. 73 
 
 street, committed to Newgate, convicted, condemned, and exe- 
 cuted at Tyburn, in the twenty-seventh year of his age, on the 
 1st of January, 1669 : and so much had his gallantries and hand- 
 some figure rendered him the favourite of the fair sex, than many 
 a oright eye was dimmed at his funeral ; his corpse was bedewed 
 witn the tears of beauty, and his actions and death were celebrated 
 dv the immortal author of the inimitable Hudibras. H e was buried 
 witn many flambeaux, amidst a numerous train of mourners, 
 (most of them ladies,) in Covent Garden Church ; a white marble 
 stone was laid over him, and the following epitaph engraven on it 
 
 Here lies Du Vail, reader, if male thou art, 
 Look to thy purse, if female, to thy heart ; 
 Much havoc has he made of both, for all 
 Men he made stand, and women he made fall. 
 
 The second Conqueror of the Norman race, 
 Knights to his arms did yield, and ladies to his face. 
 Old Tyburn's glory, England's bravest thief, 
 Du Vail, the ladies' joy — Du Vail, the ladies* grief. 
 
 There is no authentic portrait of this " lady killer" in existence 
 that we are aware of. 
 
 CAPTAIN RICHARD DUDLEY 
 
 Was born at Swepston in Leicestershire. His father once possess- 
 ed a considerable estate, but through extravagance lost the whole 
 except about sixty pounds per annum. In these reduced circum- 
 stances he went to London, intending to live in obscurity, corres- 
 ponding to the state of his finances. 
 
 Our young hero had a promising genius, and received a liberal 
 education at St. Paul's school. But a naturally vicious disposition 
 baffled all restraints. When only nine years old he showed his 
 covetous disposition, by robbing his sister of thirty shillings, and 
 absconding with it. In a few days, however, he was found, brought 
 home, and sent to school, where his vicious propensities were only 
 strengthened by indulgence. Impatient of the confinement of a 
 school, he next robbed his father of a considerable sum of money, 
 and absconded. His fatJher. however, discovered his retreat, and, 
 despairing of his settling at home, sent him on board a man-of-war, 
 
n ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 in which he sailed up the straits, and behaved gallantly in several 
 actions. Upon his arrival in England, he left the ship, under the 
 pretence that a young officer had been preferred before him, uoon 
 the death of one of the lieutenants. In a short time he joined a 
 band of thieves, assisted them in robbing the country-house of 
 admiral Carter, and escaped detection. Having at length com- 
 menced robber, the first remarkable affair in which he was en- 
 gaged, was that of breaking into the house of a lady at Blackhefth, 
 and carrying off a large quantity of plate. 
 
 He and his associates were successful in selling the plate to a 
 refiner ; but in a short time he was apprehended for the robbery, 
 and committed to Newgate While there, he sent for the refiner, 
 and severely reproached him in the following manner : " It is," 
 said he, " a hard thing to fina an honest man and a fair dealer: 
 for, you cursed rogue, among the plate you bought, there was a cup 
 with a cover, which you told us was but silver gilt, buying it at the 
 same price with the rest ; but it plainly appeared, by the advertise- 
 ment in the gazette, that it was a gold cup and cover; I see you 
 are a rogue, and that there is no trusting anybody." Dudley was 
 tried, convicted for this robbery, and sentenced to death : but his 
 youth, and the interest of his friends, procured him a royal pardon. 
 For two years he conducted himself to the satisfaction of his 
 father, so that he purchased for him a commission in the army. 
 In that situation he also acquitted himself honourably, and mar- 
 ried a young lady of a respectable family, with whom he received 
 an estate of a hundred and forty pounds a-year. This, with his 
 commission, enabled them to live in a genteel manner. Delighting 
 however, in company, and having become security for one of his 
 companions for a debt, and that person being arrested for it, ono 
 of the bailiffs was killed in the scuffle, and Dudley was suspected 
 of boing the murderer. What strengthened this suspicion was, 
 that Dudley was the avowed enemy of all that class of society. 
 
 Having banished every virtuous feeling, being more inclined 
 to live upon the ruins of his country than the fruits of industry, 
 and more disposed to fight than to work, he abandoned his 
 own house, joined a band of robbers ; and soon became so 
 expert in the business, that there was scarcely any robbery 
 committed but he acted a principal part in it. Pleased with 
 this easy way of obtaining money, and of supporting an extra- 
 vagant expenditure, he prevailed upon his brother William, 
 to join him in his employment. It happened, however, that 
 Will had not been long in his new occupation, when the cap- 
 
CAPTAIN RICHARD DUDLEY. 75 
 
 tain was apprehended for robbing a gentleman of a watch, a sword, 
 a whip, and nine shillings. But, fortunately for him, the evidence 
 was defective, and he escaped death a second time. 
 
 Being fully hardened in vice, he immediately recurred to his old 
 trade, robbed on the highway, broke into houses, picked pockets, or 
 performed any act of violence or cunning by which he could procure 
 money. Fortune favoured him long, and he went on with impuni- 
 ty, but was at last apprehended for robbing Sir John Friend's 
 house* Upon trial the evidence was decisive, and he received 
 sentence of death. His friends again interposed, and through their 
 influence his sentence was changed for that of banishment. Ac- 
 cordingly, he and several other convicts were put on board a ship 
 bound for Barbadoes. But they had scarcely reached the Isle of 
 Wight, when he excited his companions to a conspiracy, and, 
 having concerted their measures while the ship's company were 
 under hatches, they went off with the long boat. 
 
 No sooner had he reached the shore than he abandoned his com- 
 panions, and travelled through woods and by-paths. Being in a 
 very mean dress, he begged when he had no opportunity to steal. 
 Arriving, however, at Hounslow-heath, he met with a farmer, 
 robbed him, seized his horse, and, having mounted, set forward in 
 quest of new spoils. This was a fortunate day, for Dudley had not 
 proceeded far on the heath when a gentleman well dressed, and 
 better mounted than the farmer, made his appearance. He was 
 commanded to halt and to surrender. Dudley led him into a retired 
 thicket, exchanged clothes and horse, rifled his pockets, then ad- 
 dressed him, saying, " That he ought never to accuse him of rob- 
 bing him, for according to the old proverb, exchange is no robbery;" 
 so bidding him good day he marched off" for London. Arrived there 
 he went in search of his old associates, who were glad to see their 
 friend ; and who, in consequence of his fortunate adventures and 
 high reputation among them, conferred upon him the title of cap- 
 tain, all agreeing to be subject to his commands. Thus, at the 
 head of such an experienced and desperate band, no part of the 
 country was secure from his rapine, nor any house sufficiently strong 
 to keep him out. The natural consequences were, that he soon be- 
 came known and dreaded all over the country. 
 
 To avoid capture, and to prevent all inquiries, he paid a visit to 
 the north of England, and, being one day in search of plunder, he 
 robbed a Dutch colonel of his horse, arms, and fine laced coat. 
 Thus equipped, he committed several other robberies. Atiength, 
 however, he laid aside the colonel's habit, only using his hcrse, 
 
73 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 which soon became dexterous at his new employment. But one 
 day meeting a gentleman near Epsom, the latter resisted the cap- 
 tain's demands, and discharged his pistol at Dudley. In the 
 combat, however, he was victorious, wounded the gentleman in 
 the leg, and, having stripped him of his money, conveyed him to 
 the next village, that he might receive medical assistance, and 
 then rode off in search of new adventures. The captain and his 
 men were very successful in this quarter. No stage, nor coibh, 
 nor passenger, of which they had intelligence, could escape their 
 depredations, and scarcely a day passed without the commission of 
 some notorious villainy. 
 
 Captain Dudley and his men went on in a continued course of 
 good fortune, acquiring much wealth, but amassing little, as their 
 extravagance was equal to their gains. On one ill-fated day, how- 
 ever, having attacked and robbed the Southampton coach, they 
 were keenly pursued, and several cf them taken, but Dudley es- 
 caped. Deprived of the chief part of his own forces, he now 
 attached himself to some housebreakers, and with them continued 
 to commit many robberies ; in particular, with three others, he 
 entered the house of an old woman in Spitalfields, gagged her, 
 bound her to a chair, and rifled the house of a considerable sum of 
 money, which the good woman had been long scraping together. 
 Hearing the money clink that was to be taken from her, she strug- 
 gled in her chair, fell down upon her face, and was stifled to death, 
 while the captain and his companions went off with impunity. But 
 when the old woman came to be interred, a grandson of her's, who 
 had been one of the robbers, when about to be fitted with a pair of 
 mourning gloves, changed countenance, was strongly agitated, and 
 began to tremble. He was suspected, charged with the murder, 
 confessed the crime, and informing upon the rest, two of them were 
 taken, tried, and condemned, and the three hanged in chains. 
 
 Yet, though Dudley's name was published as accessary to the 
 murder, he long escaped detection. At length, however, he was 
 apprehended, and charged with several robberies, of which he, by 
 dexterous management, evaded the deserved punishment. He 
 was also called upon to take his trial for the murder of the old wo- 
 man ; but the principal evidence, Upon whose testimony the Other 
 three were chiefly condemned, being absent, he escaped suffering 
 for that crime. The dexterous manner in which he managed that 
 trial, the witnesses whom he had suborned, and the manner in 
 which he maintained his innocence before the jury, wereoften the 
 cause of his boast and amusement. 
 
CAPTAIN RICHARD DUDLEY. Vt 
 
 The profligate Dudley was no sooner relieved from prison than 
 he hastened to join his old companions in vice. Exulting to see 
 their captain again at their head, they redoubled their activity, and 
 committed all manner of depredations. Among other adventures, 
 they robbed a nobleman on Hounslow-heath of fifteen hundred 
 pounds, after a severe engagement with his servants, three of whom 
 were wounded, and two had their horses shot under them. They 
 next directed their course along the west country road, and having 
 robbed a parson, enjoined him, under the most terrific threats, to 
 preach a sermon in praise of thieving. He was forced to comply 
 and the sermon being ended, they returned his money, and gave 
 him four shillings to drink their health and success. 
 
 After this adventure, they left off infesting the highways, and 
 rode for London. Arrived in the capital, the captain's brother 
 employed his dexterity about town in several adventures, which go 
 far to show how well the brother profited by the example and in- 
 structions of the captain. He first dressed himself as a country- 
 man, with a pair of dirty boots on, and a whip in his hand, and 
 went to Bartholomew Fair, where he wandered all the forenoon 
 without meeting any prey. But as he was returning, he accosted 
 a plain countryman, saying, '• Have a care, honest friend, of your 
 money, for we are going into a cursed place, full of thieves, rogues, 
 and pickpockets. I am almost ruined by them, and 1 am glad that 
 they have not taken the teeth out of my head. Let one take ever 
 so good care, they will be sure of his money ; the devil certainly 
 helps them." 
 
 The face of the countryman glowed with courage as he replied, 
 " I defy all the devils to rob me of any thing I value. I have a 
 round piece which I'll secure ;" and thrusting it into his mouth, he 
 rushed confidently into the fair. Will was only desirous to ascertain 
 the fact that he had money about him; therefore, giving his instruc- 
 tions with a few sixpences and groats to a hopeful boy, he imme- 
 diately run after the countryman, while Will followed at a distance. 
 The boy coming up with the countryman, fell down before him 
 scattering the money all around; then starting up, he raised the 
 most hideous noise, crying that he was undone, that he must run 
 away from his apprenticeship, that his master was a furious man, 
 and that he would certainly be killed. The countryman and others 
 flocked around, and endeavoured to assist the boy in gathering up 
 the lost money. Then one of them said, " Have you found all ?" 
 M Yes, all the silver, but that is of no avail ; there is a broad piece 
 of gold which I was carrying to my master for a token sent from 
 
78 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 the country, and for the loss of it I shall be killed. Alas ! I am 
 undone ! what will become of me ?" Will now advanced among the 
 crowd, and was equally concerned for the unhappy boy; and seeing 
 the countryman standing by, he gravely observed that he had seen 
 him put a piece of gold into his mouth. The mob instantly seized 
 him, and while one opened his mouth by force, another extracted 
 the broad piece of gold; and when he attempted to speak in his 
 own defence, he was kicked, pinched, and so tossed about, thai; he 
 was glad to escape with his life. Meanwhile, the boy slipped away 
 among the crowd, and at an appointed place met Will to surrender 
 to him his booty. 
 
 Having changed his clothes, Will went into the market, and 
 mingling with the crowd, learned that the countryman was gone to 
 an inn, where he had sent for his master, a knight of a large estate, 
 and some other respectable persons, to attest his character. Will 
 knew this person well, and hastened to the exchange, in full hopes 
 of meeting him. Having reconnoitered the gentleman, and follow- 
 ed him until he perceived an opportunity, he robbed him of every 
 guinea he had, except one, which he considerately left him to pay 
 for his dinner. The knight, repairing to the inn, laughed heartily 
 when the poor countryman informed him that he had been robbed, 
 while he told him that he also had, in like manner, been just 
 fleeced upon the Exchange. The countryman laughed in his turn, 
 and said, " Sir, let us make our escape from this roguish place;" 
 adding, with a shrug of the shoulders, " Sir, they'll steal our small 
 guts to make fiddle-strings of them." 
 
 The gentleman, having recruited his purse, went out the next 
 day to the Exchange. Will paid him the same compliment the se- 
 cond day. The knightwas surprised how it was possible for any man 
 to rob him when he was so forewarned, and so much upon his guard; 
 but, looking hastily about, his eye fixed upon Will, whom he sus- 
 pected to be the delinquent. He went up to him, and, taking him 
 by the button, informed him that he strongly suspected that he u u 
 the person who had robbed him; but, as he was a gentleman of a 
 large fortune, he did not regard the money, and would freely par- 
 don him, and give him all the money, upon condition that he would 
 inform him by what means he had done so. " This," said he, 
 " I promise upon my honour." " Your word of honour," said Will, 
 " is sufficient; I know the greatness of your fortune ; 1 am the man. 
 i will wait on your worship at the tavern, and there show you some 
 of my art more freely than I would do to my fellow rogues." In 
 their way to the inn, the gentleman informed Will, that as he 
 
CAPTAIN RICHARD DUDLEY. 79 
 
 wished to make a frolic of the matter, he would send for some other 
 gentlemen to be present, assuring him, at the same time, that he 
 should sustain no damage from any discovery that he might make 
 to them. " 1 know you're a gentleman," said Will, ** and men of 
 honour scorn to keep base company. Call as many as you please; 
 I'll take their word, and 1 know that I am safe." 
 
 When the gentlemen arrived, Will told them many things which 
 greatly astonished and pleased them; and when he pulled out the 
 piece of gold, and informed them how he had used Roger, the 
 gentleman's tenant, he was immediately sent for to increase the 
 amusement, " What would you say," cried the knight, as he 
 entered, " if you saw your gold again?" " Oh:" said he, " I 
 wish I could; but if my mouth can't keep it, where shall I put it? 
 'Sblood ! I'd rather see the logue ; I'd make a jelly of his bones !" 
 " There he is," said the knight, " and there's your broad piece." 
 As Roger began to heave and to bully, his master commanded 
 him to take his piece of gold, and sit down by him : upon which, 
 the pacified Roger, seeing how things went, drank to his new 
 acquaintance. 
 
 One of the gentlemen pulling out a curious watch, said, he 
 wondered how it was possible to take a watch out of a fob; that it 
 certainly must be carelessness on the part of the owner. " No," 
 said Will, " if the gentleman will take a turn in Moorfields, I'll 
 wager a guinea I'll have the watch before he returns, let him take 
 what care he pleases, and I shan't stir out of the room." " Done," 
 cried the gentleman; and every gentleman in the room laid down 
 his guinea, while Roger staked his broad piece. The gentleman 
 went out, and was careful that he would not suffer man, woman, 
 nor child to come near him. When the time approached that he 
 should return, a boy came pretty near him, but, to avoid suspicion, 
 ran past him, and at the same time looking on his back, informed 
 the gentleman that it swarmed with vermin. The gentleman ob- 
 serving them, and loathing the sight, said, " Good boy, take them 
 off, and I'll give you a shilling." The boy did so, at the same 
 time stealing his watch ; and having received his shilling, ran off". 
 The gentleman returned to the tavern, wondering how he could 
 possibly come by such vermin, and taking the greatest care that 
 no person should approach him. 
 
 Upon his return to the tavern, Will asked him what o'clock it 
 was? He attempted to pull out his watch, but to his utter astonish- 
 ment and confusion, it was gone. Upon this, Will produced it, 
 and asked the gentleman if that were his ! The gentleman was 
 
80 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 struck dumb, casting up his hands and eyes, and, full of amaze- 
 ment, addressed Will, saying, " You must have had the assistance 
 of the devil." " Of a boy," said Will. " Did not a boy pick you 
 clean ?" " There's the devil," said the gentleman; "and he threw 
 them on, too, I suppose." " Ay, through a quill," said the other. 
 
 All present were astonished at the ingenuity of the trick, but 
 particularly plain Roger, who could not, at times, restrain his 
 laughter, " Oh !" said Will, " this trick is not worth talking 
 about: it is only one of those we commit to our boys. There is a 
 nobleman just passing the window, with a very rich coat upon his 
 back; I'll wager, as before, to steal it from him, before all his 
 followers, and bring it here on my own back. The gentlemen all 
 staked their guineas, and were seconded by Roger. " Come, now," 
 said Will, " this matter must not be entrusted to a boy ; you will 
 give me leave to go myself, nor must you restrict me to any par- 
 ticular time to return." So out he ran, and followed the nobleman 
 from street to street, until he saw him enter a tavern. 
 
 The nobleman was conducted up-stairs. Will bustling in after 
 him, hastened to the bar-keeper, and desired him to lend him an 
 apron, as his master would be served only by his own footman. 
 11 He is a very good customer, and expects the very best wine : I 
 must go to the cellar and taste it for him." The apron being given, 
 he went to the cellar, and returned with some of the best of each 
 wine for his pretended master. He ran so quickly up and down stairs, 
 and was so alert at his work, that none of the other servants could 
 equal him. Meanwhile, the company up-stairs taking him for the 
 servant of the house, were highly satisfied with his attendance. 
 Will was also careful to give full cups to the servant who should 
 have served in his place, with some money, which the other was 
 very glad to receive for doing nothing. He seldom also went into 
 the room without passing some merry jest to amuse the company. 
 They were so highly pleased with him, that they said one to another, 
 " This is a merry, witty fellow; such a man as he is iit to make a 
 house; he deserves double wages." When Will saw his plan ripe 
 for execution, he came into the room with some wine, and by the 
 aid of his knife, made a slit in my lord's coat. Returning with a 
 bottle in one hand, and his other hand full of glasses, before he 
 approached his lordship, he started and stared, saying, " What 
 fellows are those who have made that coat ?" with other imprecations 
 against the tailor. Then some of the company rising up, saw the 
 rent in my lord's coat, and cried. " My lord, the tailor has cheated 
 you." Will, drawing near, said, " Such things may happen; but 
 
CAPTAIN RICHARD DUDLEY. <* 
 
 give me the coat, and I'll carry it privately under my master's 
 cloak to an acquaintance of mine, who will presently make it as 
 good as if it had not been torn." Borrowing a great coat of a 
 gentleman present, the nobleman gave Will his coat to carry to 
 the tailor, who, coming down stairs informed the landlord of the 
 disaster, received his cloak, and, putting the rent coat below it, 
 seized a good beaver hat off one of the cloak-pins, and hastened 
 from the tavern. Arriving at the inn where the gentlemen were 
 anxiously waiting his return, he went into another room dressed 
 himself, and entered with the cloak and beaver on. " What!'* 
 said one of them, " instead of a coat, you come with a cloak, and 
 great need for it; for," he added, " there's a deal of knavery under 
 it." Will then opened the cloak, and showed them the coat, say- 
 ing, that he had received the cloak and beaver into the bargain ; 
 and gave an account of the whole adventure. 
 
 Meanwhile, my lord and his company had waited long in expec- 
 tation of the servant, whom they supposed to have been one of the 
 waiters of the house. The landlord also wondering that they were 
 so long in calling for more wine, one of the servants was sent up- 
 stairs to force trade. He entered the room, saying, " Call here, 
 call here, gentlemen ?" " Yes," said one of them, " where is 
 your fellow-servant that waited upon us ?" — " my fellow- servant!" 
 exclaimed the other; " he said he was my lord's servant, and 
 that his master would be served by none but himself." My lord 
 replied, " How can that be? I have only one gentleman of my 
 own retinue ; the rest are with my lady. He that served us came 
 in with an apron, and in the character of one of the servants of 
 the house : — call up the landlord !" Boniface instantly waited upon 
 them, when one of the gentlemen asked him, if he kept sharpers 
 in his house, to affront gentlemen and to rob them ? " Nay," re- 
 plied the vintner, who was a choleric man, " do you bring sharpers 
 along with you, to affront me and rob my house ? I am sure I have 
 lost a new cloak and beaver ; and, for aught I know, though you 
 look like gentlemen, you may be sharpers yourselves; and I ex- 
 pect to be paid by you for my losses, as well as for the reckoning." 
 One of them instantly drew upon him, enraged at his insolent 
 language ; but the landlord ran down stairs in affright, and armed 
 the whole house, entreating them not to suffer such rogues to escape. 
 In the mean time, he seized a sword, the servants armed themselves 
 with spits, pokers, and such other weapons as the house afforded. 
 A great uproar was soon raised : and the nobleman coming first 
 out to penetrate through the crowd, made a thrust at the landlord, 
 
 G 
 
82 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 but was beaten back with a fire-shovel in the hand of one of the 
 waiters, and narrowly escaped being run through with a long spit 
 in the hands of a cook maid. His lordship, seeing the door so 
 completely guarded, shut himself up in the room, and began to 
 consult with the rest of the company what was best to be done. 
 Fortunately, however, the gentleman who was in the other tavern 
 with Will, conjecturing that a quarrel might ensue between the 
 nobleman and the vintner, who had lost his cloak and beaver, seni 
 his own landlord to inform him, that the rogue was caught, and in 
 safe custody. He was admitted up stairs, waited on his lordship, 
 and communicated to him the whole affair. A cessation of arms 
 took place. They drank to the health of the landlord, assuring 
 him, that in future they would be friendly to his house ; but, in the 
 mean time, they attended their peace-maker to the tavern, where 
 Will was exhibiting his dexterity. The vintner went along with 
 them, and, after common compliments, Will restored the coat, the 
 cloak, and the beaver, and continued to amuse them during the 
 remainder of the evening with the relation of his adventures. 
 
 But to return, at length, to the captain his brother. He had, 
 along with his companions, committed so many robberies upon the 
 highway, that a proclamation was issued against them, offering a 
 reward to those who should bring them, either dead or alive. This 
 occasioned their detection, for having committed a robbery, and 
 being closely pursued to Westminster ferry, the wherryman refused 
 to carry any more that night. Two of them then rode off, and the 
 other four gave their horses to a waterman to lead to the next inn. 
 The horses foaming with sweat, the waterman began to suspect that 
 they were robbers who had been keenly pursued, and communicated 
 his suspicions to the constable, who secured the horses, and went 
 in search of the men. 
 
 He was not long in seizing one of them, who confessed; and the 
 constable, hastening to the inn, secured the rest, and, having 
 placed a strong guard upon them, rode to Lambeth, and making 
 sure of the other two, led them before a justice of the peace, who 
 committed them to Newgate. 
 
 At the next sessions, captain Dudley, his brother, and three 
 other accomplices, were tried, and condemned to suffer float h. 
 
 After sentence, Captain Dudley was brought to Newgate, where 
 he conducted himself agreeably to his sad situation, lie was con- 
 veyed from Newgate with six other prisoners* lie appeared pretty 
 cheerful, but his brother lay all the time sick in the cart. The 
 ceremonies of religion being performed, they were launched into 
 
JONATHAN SIMPSON. 83 
 
 another world on the 22nd of February, 1681, to answer for the 
 numerous crimes of their guilty lives. 
 
 The bodies of the captain and his brother, having been cut down, 
 were put into separate coffins, to be conveyed to their disconsolate 
 father, who at the sight, was so overwhelmed, that he fell dead 
 upon them, and was buried at the same time and in the same grave 
 with his two sons. 
 
 JONATHAN SIMPSON. 
 
 This man was the son of a respectable gentleman in Launceston, 
 in Cornwall, and put an apprentice to a linen-draper. After serv- 
 ing his time with great approbation, his father gave him £1500 to 
 commence business for himself. 
 
 He had not been a year in business, when he married a merchant's 
 daughter, and received with her £200 as a portion. Such an acces- 
 sion to his wealth enabled him to extend his business, and to con- 
 duct it with ease. But money cannot procure happiness. The 
 affections of the young lady had been gained by a man of less for- 
 tune, and, to please her father, she had given her hand where she 
 could not bestow her heart; and, though married to another, she 
 continued in a degree of familiarity with her former lover that 
 excited her husband's jealousy, the most violent of all passions. 
 
 In a short time, after having lived in a very unhappy manner, 
 Simpson took the opportunity to sell all off, and having shut up 
 shop, went away with what money he could raise, determined no 
 longer to remain in Bristol. He was now possessed of about £5000, 
 but his expenses were so extravagant, that this large sum was soon 
 exhausted. He then went to the highway, committed a robbery, 
 was apprehended, and would certainly have been hanged, had not 
 some of his rich relations procured a reprieve. The difficulty of 
 obtaining it may be guessed from the fact, that it arrived at Tybura 
 just when the rope was about his neck. Such was his obduracy, 
 that, when returning to Newgate behind one of the Sheriff's men, 
 the latter asked him, what he thought of a reprieve when he was 
 come to the gallows ? " No more than I thought of my dying day.' 
 
 When he came to the prison-door, the turnkey refused to receive 
 him, saying, he was sent to be executed, and that he was discharged 
 of mm, and would not permit him to enter without a new warrant 
 
$4 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 Upon which Simpson exclaimed, u What an unhappy cast-off dog 
 am I, that both Tyburn and Newgate should in one day refuse to 
 entertain me ! Well, I'll mend my manners for the future, and try 
 whether I can't merit a reception at them both, next time I am 
 brought thither." 
 
 He immediately recommenced his operations, and one day robbed 
 a gentleman of a purse full of counters, which he supposed were 
 gold. He kept them in his pockets, always anxiously looking'out 
 for his benefactor. About four months after, he met him upon 
 Bagshot Heath, riding in a coach : " Sir," said he, " I believe 
 you made a mistake the last time I had the happiness of seeing you, 
 in giving these pieces. 1 have been troubled ever since, lest you 
 should have wanted them at cards, and am glad of this opportunity 
 to return them; only, for my care, I require you to come this 
 moment out of your coach, and give me your breeches, that I may 
 search them at leisure, and not trust any more to your generosity, 
 lest you should mistake again." A pistol enforced his demand, 
 and Simpson found a gold watch, a gold snuff-box, and ninety-eight 
 guineas, with five jacobuses. 
 
 At another time he robbed Lord Delamere of three hundred and 
 fifty guineas. He was almost unequalled in his depredations ; in 
 one day he robbed nineteen different people, and took above £200; 
 and, in the space of six weeks, committed forty robberies in the 
 county of Middlesex. He even ventured to attack the Duke of 
 Berwick, and took from him articles to a very great value. 
 
 But wickedness has a boundary, over which it cannot pass. 
 Simpson attacked, two captains of the guards: a strong struggle 
 ensued: his horse was shot under him, and he was wounded in both 
 arms and one of his legs before he was taken. He was sent to 
 Newgate, and now found that he was not refused entrance; and 
 he soon also discovered, that Tyburn was equally ready to receive 
 him. His execution took place on the 8th September, 1686. 
 
 WILLIAM DAVIS, 
 
 CALLED 
 
 "THE GOLDEN FARM EH." 
 
 This man was a native of North Wales, and he obtained the title 
 of The Golden Farmer from his custom of paying any considers s>le 
 
WILLIAM DAVIS. 85 
 
 sum in gold. He was born in the year 1626. At an early period 
 of life he removed to Sudbury, in Glocestershire, where he took a 
 farm, married the daughter of a wealthy innkeeper, by whom he 
 had eighteen children, and followed that industrious employment 
 merely to disguise the real character of a robber, which he sustain- 
 ed without suspicion for the space of forty-two years. He usually 
 robbed alone. One day, meeting some stage coaches, he stopped 
 one of them, full of ladies, all of whom complied with his demands, 
 except a Quaker, who vowed she had no money, nor any thing 
 valuable about her; upon which, fearing lest he should lose the 
 booty of the other coaches, he told her, he would go and see what 
 they could afford him, and return to her again. Having rifled the 
 other three coaches, he was as good as his word ; and the Quaker, 
 persisting in her former statement, enraged the Farmer to such a 
 degree, that, seizing her by the shoulder, and employing language 
 which it would be hardly proper here to set down, he so scared the 
 poor Quaker, as to cause her to produce a purse of guineas, a gold 
 watch, and a diamond ring. Whereupon, they parted as good 
 friends as when they were first introduced to each other. 
 
 Upon another occasion, our desperado met the Duchess of Albe- 
 marle in her coach, as she was riding over Salisbury Plain ; but 
 he encountered greater difficulty in this case than he had contem- 
 plated. Before he could attack tjie lady, he was compelled to 
 engage a postillion, the coachman, and two footmen ; but, having 
 disabled them all by discharging several pistols, he approached his 
 prey, whom he found more refractory than the female Quaker. 
 Perceiving another person of quality's coach approaching, with a 
 retinue of servants, he contented himself by pulling three diamond 
 rings from her fingers by force, snatching a rich gold watch from 
 her side, and venting a portion of abuse upon her obstinate lady- 
 ship. 
 
 It was not very long after this exploit, that our adventurer met 
 with Sir Thomas Day, a justice of the peace, living at Bristol. 
 They fell into discourse together, and, riding along, the Golden 
 Farmer informed his new acquaintance, that a little while before, 
 he had narrowly escaped being robbed by a couple of highwaymen, 
 but, luckily, his horse having better heels than theirs, he had got 
 clear of them. " Truly," said Sir Thomas, " that had been very 
 hard : but, nevertheless, as you would have been robbed between 
 sun and sun, the county, upon suing it, would have been obliged 
 to make your loss good." Thus, chatting together, and coming to 
 a convenient place, the Golden Farmer shot Sir Thomas's man's 
 
88 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 horse under him, and, compelling him to retire to a distance, pre- 
 sented a pistol to the knight's heart, and demanded his money. 
 " I thought, sir, 5 ' said Sir Thomas, " that you had been an honest 
 man." " Your worship is mistaken," cried the Farmer, " and if 
 you had had any skill in physiogonomy, you might have perceived 
 that my countenance is the very picture of necessity; so deliver 
 presently, for I'm in haste." Sir Thomas, therefore, being con- 
 strained to give him the money he had about him, which was about 
 601. in gold and silver, the other humbly thanked his worship, and 
 told him, that what he had parted with was not lost, because he had 
 been robbed between sun and sun, and could therefore come upon 
 the county. 
 
 One Mr. Hart, a young gentleman of Enfield, who, it appears, 
 possessed a good estate, but was not overburdened with brains, 
 riding one day over Finchley Common, where the Golden Farmer 
 had been for some months hunting for prey, was met by him, and 
 saluted with a smart slap with the flat of his drawn hanger upon his 
 shoulders : " A plague on you '." said the farmer; " how slow you 
 are, to make a man wait upon you all the morning : come, deliver 
 what you have, and go to the devil for orders!" The young gen- 
 tleman, rather surprised at this novel greeting, began to make 
 several excuses, saying, he had no money about him: but his 
 incredulous antagonist took the^ liberty of searching him, and, find- 
 ing about him above a hundred guineas, he bestowed upon him two 
 or three farther slaps on the shoulders, telling him at the same time, 
 not to give his mind to lying in future, when an honest gentleman 
 required a small gratuity from him. 
 
 Another time, this notorious robber having paid his landlord 
 about SOI. for rent, the latter, going home with it, was accosted by 
 his goodly tenant in disguise, who bidding him stand, said: — 
 " Come, Mr. Gravity, deliver what you have in a trice!" The 
 old gentleman, fetching a deep sigh, to the hazard of displacing 
 several buttons from his waistcoat, told him, that he had not above 
 two shillings about him, and hoped, therefore, he was more a gen- 
 tleman than to take so small a matter from a poor man. " I have 
 no faith," replied the Farmer; " for you seem, by your habit, to 
 be a man of better circumstances than you pretend; therefore, 
 open your budget, or I shall fall foul of you." " Dear sir," cried 
 the landlord, l< you can't be so barbarous to an old man ? What! 
 have you no religion, pity, or compassion in you? Have you no 
 conscience ? Have you norespect for your body or soul ?" " Don't 
 talk of age or barbarity to me," said the tenant, M for I show neither 
 
WILLIAM DAVIS. 67 
 
 pity or compassion to any body. Talk of conscience to me! I 
 have no more of that dull commodity than you have; therefore, 
 deliver every thing you have about you, before this pistol makes 
 you repent your obstinacy." The landlord being thus threatened, 
 delivered his money, without receiving a receipt for it, although he 
 had given one to the Farmer. 
 
 An old grazier at Putney Heath was the next victim to the avari- 
 cious farmer. Having accosted him on the road, he informed him, 
 that there were some suspicious persons behind them, whom he 
 suspected to be highwaymen ; and, if that should be the case, he 
 begged that he would conceal ten guineas for him, which would be 
 safer with him, from the meanness of his apparel. He accepted 
 the charge, and said, that as he himself had fifty guineas bound 
 in the lappet of his shirt, he would deposit them along with his 
 own. In a short time, the Farmer said : — " It does not appear that 
 any person will run the risk of his neck by robbing you to-day ; it 
 will, therefore, be as well that I do so myself." Without any far- 
 ther preamble, therefore, he demanded of him, instead of deliver- 
 ing up his purse, to cut off the lappet of his shirt, but, declining 
 to comply with his request, the Farmer put himself to the trouble 
 of lightening the fore-garment of the grazier. 
 
 Squire Broughton, a gentleman of the Middle Temple, was the 
 succeeding prey of the Golden Farmer. Happening to meet at an 
 inn upon the road, the Farmer pretended to be on his way to the 
 capital, concerning an offence that a neighbouring farmer had com- 
 mitted against him, by allowing his cattle to break into his grounds. 
 Meanwhile, he requested that Squire Broughton would recommend 
 him to an expert and faithful agent to conduct his cause. Like 
 every other lawyer, Broughton was desirous to have him for a 
 client, and proceeded to explain the nature of his cause. Having 
 spent the night at the inn, they proceeded next morning on their 
 journey, when the Farmer addressed the counsellor, saying, 
 " Pray, sir, what is meant by trover and conversion in the law of 
 England ?" He replied, that it signified, in our common law, an 
 action which one man has against another, who, having found any 
 of his goods, refuses to deliver them up on demand, and perhaps 
 converts them to his own use. 
 
 The Golden Farmer, being now at a place convenient for his 
 purpose, " Very well, then, sir," said he, " should I find any 
 money about you, and convert it to my use, it is only actionable, I 
 find." " That is a robbery," said the barrister, " which requires 
 no less a satisfaction than a man's life." " A robbery !" replied 
 
8? ENGLISH IL'UliWAYMEN. 
 
 the Golden Farmer; " why, then, I must commit one in my 
 time :" and presenting his pistol, he instantly demanded his money 
 or his life. Surprised at his client's rough behaviour, the lawyer 
 began to remonstrate in strong terms upon the impropriety of his 
 conduct, urging, that it was both contrary to law and to conscience. 
 His eloquent pleading, however, made no impression upon the 
 mind of the Farmer, who, putting a pistol to his breast, compelled 
 the lawyer to deliver his money, amounting to 40/. some large pieces" 
 of gold, and a gold watch. 
 
 One day, accosting a tinker upon the road, whom he knew to 
 have 71. or 8/. upon him, he said, " Well, brother tinker, you 
 seem to be very decent, for your life is a continual pilgrimage, and, 
 in humility, you go almost bare-footed, making necessity a virtue." 
 " Ay, master," replied the tinker, necessity compels when the 
 devil drives, and, had you no more than I, you would do the same." 
 " That might be," replied the Farmer, " and I suppose you march 
 all over England." " Yes," said the tinker," I go over a great deal 
 of ground, but not so much as you ride." " Be this as it will, 1 
 suppose your conversation is unblameable, because you are conti- 
 nually mending." " I wish," replied the tinker, " that as much 
 could be said in commendation of your character." The Farmer 
 replied, tnat he was not like him, who would rather steal than beg, 
 in defiance of whips and imprisonment. Determined to have the 
 last word of the Farmer, the tinker rejoined, " I would have you 
 to know, that I take a great deal of pains for a livelihood." The 
 Farmer, equally loquacious, replied, " I know that you are such 
 an enemy to idleness, that, rather than want work, you will make 
 three holes in mending one." " That may be," said the honest 
 tinker, *' but I begin to wish that there were a greater distance be- 
 tween us, as I do neither love your conversation nor appearance." 
 " I am equally ready to say the same of you ; for, though you are 
 entertained in every place, yet you are seldom permitted to enter 
 the door of any dwelling." The tinker repeated his strong suspi- 
 •ions of the Farmer. " Nor shall it be without cause !" exclaimed 
 he ; " therefore, open your wallet, and deliver the money that is 
 there." Here their dialogue being about to close, the tinker en- 
 treated, that he would not rob him, as he was above a hundred miles 
 from home ; but the Golden Farmer, being indifferent to all the 
 consequences of the loss of the other's property, seized both his 
 wallet and his money, and left the poor tinker to renew his journey 
 and his toils. 
 
 This famous highwayman had only a few more acts of violence to 
 
WILLIAM NEVISON. 89 
 
 perform. His actions and character being now universally known, 
 many a hue-and-cry was sent after him, and conspired to his over- 
 throw. He was seized and imprisoned, tried and condemned. He 
 spent his life in prison in the same merry way in which his former 
 life had been passed, and a violent death terminated his wicked 
 course, on the 20th December, 1689. 
 
 WILLIAM NEVISON. 
 
 The advancement of the arts and sciences is not more rapid than 
 the progress oi folly and vice. In the following memoir it will be 
 demonstrated, that the best education may be perverted by vicious 
 dispositions. 
 
 William Nevison was born at Pomfret, in Yorkshire, in 1639, 
 and his parents, being in good circumstances, conferred upon him 
 a decent education. He remained at school until he was about 
 thirteen years of age. During that period, his expanding talents 
 promised a luxuriant harvest; but the general bent of his future 
 character, and the ruling motive of all his actions were exhibited 
 at that period. He commenced his depredations by stealing a sil- 
 ver spoon from his own father. The too indulgent parent, instead 
 of chastising him for the crime, transferred the unpleasant work to 
 the schoolmaster. The father who resigns authority over his own 
 children may expect either to lose them altogether, or to have his 
 heart grieved and his family dishonoured by their conduct. The 
 schoolmaster having punished young Nevison for his theft, he spent 
 a sleepless night in meditating revenge. He knew that the peda- 
 gogue had a favourite horse, which grazed in an adjacent paddock. 
 William rose early in the morning, moved quietly into his father's 
 closet, stole his keys, and supplied himself with cash to the amount 
 of 101. ; then, taking a saddle and bridle from his father's stable, 
 he hastened to the paddock in which the schoolmaster's horse was 
 accustomed to feed ; and, having saddled and bridled the animal, 
 with all haste rode towards London. About a mile or two from the 
 capital, he cut the throat of the poor horse, for fear of detection. 
 Arrived in London, he changed his name and clothes, and then 
 hired himself to a brewer. Although circumstances compelled him 
 to be for a while industrious, in order to obtain the necessaries of 
 life, his mind ^as always upon the stretch to invent some more 
 
90 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 expeditious mode of acquiring money than the slow return of an- 
 nual pay ; accordingly, he often ineffectually, attempted to roo 
 his master. One evening, however, the clerk happening to use his 
 bottle too freely, Nevison followed him into the counting-house, 
 and, while he was enjoying a recruiting nap, stole the keys of the 
 desks, and relieved them of their burden, to the amount of about 
 2001. Without waiting to discover whether the clerk or the servant 
 would be blamed for the deficiency of the cash, he sailed for Holland. 
 
 But change of climate had no effect in changing his nature. 
 Through his instigation, the daughter of a respectable citizen 
 robbed her father of a large sum of money, and a quantity of 
 jewels, and eloped with the Englishman. They were pursued, 
 taken, and committed to prison. Thus detected, Nevison would 
 certainly have finished a short but villainous career in a foreigu 
 land, had he not fortunately effected his escape. 
 
 With no small difficulty he arrived in Flanders, and enlisted into 
 a regiment of English volunteers, under the command of the Duke 
 of York. In that station he behaved with considerable reputation, 
 and even acquired some money ; but his restless temper and dis- 
 position to acquire riches, by whatever means, did not permit him 
 to remain in a situation of industry and sobriety. He deserted, 
 went over to England, with his money purchased a horse, together 
 with all other necessaries, and commenced his depredations in a 
 systematic form. His success was uncommon, and he every day 
 found means to replenish his coffers, and to nourish his extrava- 
 gance. Nor would he unite his fortune with any one, who, from 
 selfish motives, might feel disposed to participate in his lucrative 
 employment. 
 
 One day Nevison, who went otherwise by the name of Johnson, 
 travelling on the road, and scouring about in search of a prize, 
 met two countrymen, who, coming up towards him, informe.d him, 
 that it was very dangerous travelling forward, for that the way was 
 set, and they had been robbed by three highwaymen, about half a 
 mile off; and if he had any charge of money about him, it were 
 his safest course to turn back. Nevison, asking them what they 
 lost, they told him 101. ; upon which he replied, " Turn back with 
 me, and shew me the way they took, and my lite to ■ farthing, I'll 
 make them return you your money again." They rode along with 
 him till they came in sight of the highwaymen, when Nevison, 
 ordering the countrymen to stay behind him at some distance, rode 
 up, and spoke to the foremost of them, saying, " Sir, byyourjjarb 
 and the colour of your horse, you should be one of those I have been 
 
WILLIAM NEVISON. 91 
 
 looking after ; and if so, I must tell you, that you have borrowed of 
 two friends of mine 401., which they desire me to demand of you, 
 and which, before we part, you must restore." " How !" cried 
 the highwayman, " forty pounds! What! is the fellow mad?" 
 " So mad," replied Nevison, " that your life shall answer me, 
 if you do not give me better satisfaction." Upon this, he drew his 
 pistol, and suddenly clapped it to the other's breast, who finding 
 that Nevison had also his reign, and that he could not get his sword 
 or pistols, yielded, telling him, his life was at his mercy. " No," 
 said Nevison, " it is not that I seek, but the money you robbed 
 these two men of, who are riding up to me, which you must refund.'' 
 
 The thief was forced to consent, and readily to deliver such part 
 ashe had, saying, his companions were in possession of the rest; 
 so that Nevison, having made him dismount, and taking away his 
 pistols, which he gave to the countryman, ordered them to secure 
 him, and hold his own, whilst he took the thief's horse, and pur- 
 sued the other two, whom he soon overtook ; for they, thinking 
 him their companion, stopped as soon as they saw him; so that he 
 came up to them in the midst of a common. " How now, Jack," 
 said one of them, " what made you engage with yon fellow ?" 
 " No, gentlemen," replied Nevison, " you are mistaken in your 
 man : yon fellow, as you are pleased to term him, is a prisoner in the 
 custody of my friends and hath sent me to you for the ransom of his 
 life, amounting to no less than the prize of the day, which if you pre- 
 sently surrender, you may go about your business ; if not, I must 
 have a little dispute with you at sword and pistol !" At which, one 
 of them fired at him, but, missing his aim, received Nevison's 
 bullet in his right shoulder; and being thereby disabled, Nevison 
 was about to discharge at the other, when he called for quarter, 
 and came to a parley, which in short, was made up, with Nevison's 
 promise to send their friend, and their delivering him all the ready 
 money they had, amounting to lbOl. Having obtained his booty, 
 he rode back to the two countrymen, and released their prisoner, 
 giving them their whole 40/., with a caution, for the future, to 
 look better after it, and not like cowards, as they were, to surren- 
 der on such easy terms again. 
 
 In all his exploits, Nevison was tender of the fair sex, and boun- 
 tiful to the poor. He was also a true loyalist, and never levied any 
 contributions upon the Royalists. One day, fortunately encoun- 
 tering a rich usurer, he stopped his coach, and demanded that he 
 would deliver the money which he had extorted from poor widows 
 and orphans. The pistol presented to his breast, and the reproaches 
 
82 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 of the highwayman, filled his guilty mind wi'Ji inexpressible terror, 
 and he began to expostulate for his life. " That shall be granted," 
 replied Nevison, " upon condition of your surrendering your gold." 
 The other reluctantly drew out sixty broad pieces of gold; but 
 this sum not being adequate to the necessities of Nevison, he 
 constrained the usurer to mount upon the postilion's horse, and 
 allowed the coach with the three ladies in it to proceed. The poor 
 Jew, now thinking the hour was verily nigh at hand when he would* 
 be bereft of life and separated from his treasures, experienced all 
 the violent emotions of terror, chagrin, and despair. Nevison 
 compelled him to draw a note upon sight for 500J. upon a scrivener 
 in London. He then permitted him to ride after his friends to 
 acquaint them with his misfortunes, while he himself rode all night, 
 that he might have the money drawn before advice could be for- 
 warded to stop the payment. 
 
 After several adventures of a similar nature, Nevison one day 
 robbed a rich grazier of 450/ and then proposed to himself to retire 
 with the spoil. Accordingly, he returned home, and, like the pro- 
 digal son, was joyfully received by his father, who, not having 
 heard of him during seven or eight years, supposed that he had 
 been dead. He remained with his father until the day of the old 
 man's death, living as soberly and honestly as if no act of violence 
 had ever sullied his reputation. Upon the death of his father, how- 
 ever, he returned to his former courses, and his name became a ter- 
 ror to eve ry traveller upon the road. To such an extent did he carry 
 his plans, that the carriers and drovers who frequented the road wil- 
 lingly agreed to leave certain sums at such places as he appointed, 
 to prevent their being stripped of their all. 
 
 Continuing his wicked course, he was at last apprehended, 
 thrown into Leicester gaol, put in irons, and strictly guarded : but, 
 in spite of all the precautions of the county, he effected his escape. 
 One day, two or three of his trusty friends visited him, one of 
 whom, being a physician, gave out that he was infected with the 
 plague, and that, unless he was removed to a larger room, where 
 he might enjoy the free air, he would not only himself perish, but 
 communicate the infection to all the inhabitants of the goal. He 
 was instantly removed, and the gaoler's wife would not allow her 
 husband to go farther than the door of his room, for fear of the in- 
 fection, which afforded Nevison and his friends time to perfect 
 their scheme. The physician came twice or thrice every day to see 
 nim, and continued to declare his case hopeless At last a painter 
 was brought in who painted his body all over with spots, similar 
 
William nevison. « 
 
 to those that appear upon a person infected with the pestilence. 
 In a few days after, he received a sleeping draught, and was de- 
 clared to be dead. The inquest who sat upon his body were afraid 
 to approach in order to make minute inspection, and thus a verdict 
 was returned that he had died of the plague. His friends now de- 
 manded his body, and he was carried out of prison in a coffin. 
 
 This insertion into a coffin only rendered him more callous and 
 daring in vice. He, with redoubled vigour, renewed his depreda- 
 tions, and, meeting his carriers and drovers, informed them, that 
 it was necessary to increase their rents, in order to refund his ex- 
 penses while in gaol and his loss of time. It was at first supposed, 
 that it was his ghost, who carried on the same pranks that he had 
 done in his life-time. The truth of this, however, came to be sus- 
 pected, and a reward of 201. was offered to any person who would 
 restore him to his former domicile. 
 
 Resolved to visit the capital, he upon his journey met a company 
 of canting beggars, pilgrims, and idle vagabonds. Continuing in 
 their company for some time, and observing the merry life that 
 they pursued, he took an opportunity to propose himself as a can- 
 didate for admission into their honourable fraternity. Their leader 
 applauded his resolution, and addressed him in these words : — " Do 
 not we come into the world beggars, without a rag upon us? And 
 do we not all go out of the world like beggars, saving only an old 
 sheet over us? Shall we, then, be ashamed to walk up and down 
 the world, like beggars, with old blankets pinned about us ? No ! 
 no! that would be a shame to us, indeed. Have we not the whole 
 kingdom to walk in at our pleasure ? Are we afraid of the approach 
 of quarter day ? Do we walk in fear of sheriffs, bailiffs, and catch- 
 poles? Who ever knew an arrant beggar arrested for debt? Is 
 not our meat dressed in every man's kitchen ? Does not every 
 man's cellar afford us beer and the best men's purses keep a penny 
 for us to spend?" Having, by these words, as he thought, fully 
 fixed him in love with begging, he then acquainted the company 
 with Nevison's desire, in consequence of which they were all very 
 joyful, being as glad to add one to their society, as a Mussulman 
 to obtain a proselyte. The first question they asked him was, if he 
 had any " loure" in his " bungV Nevison stared at them, not 
 knowing what they meant; till at last, one informed him it was 
 money in his purse. He told them he had but eighteen-pence, 
 which he gave them freely. This, by a general vote, was con- 
 demned to be spent in a booze for his initiation. They then com- 
 manded him to kneel down, which being done, one of the chief 
 
94 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 (if them took a " gage of booze,*' which is a quart of drink, and 
 poured the same on his head, saying, " I do by virtue of the sove- 
 reign liquor, install thee in the Roage, and make thee a free deni- 
 zen of our ragged regiment. So that henceforth it shall be lawful 
 for thee to cant only observing these rules — First, that thou art 
 not to wander up and down all countries, but to keep to that 
 quarter that is allotted thee ; and, secondly, thou art to give wav 
 to any of us that have borne all the offices of the wallet before ; * 
 and, upon holdding up a finger, to avoid any town or country vil- 
 lage, where thou seest we are foraging for victuals for our army that 
 march along with us. Observing these two rules, we take thee 
 into our protection, and adopt thee a brother of our numerous 
 society.'* 
 
 The leader having ended his oration, Nevison rose up, and was 
 congratulated by all the company's hanging about him, like so 
 many dogs about a bear, and making such a hideous noise, that 
 the chief, commanding silence, addressed him as follows: — " Now 
 that thou art entered into our fraternity, thou must not scruple to 
 act any villanies, whether it be to cut a purse, steal a cloak-bag, 
 or portmanteau, convey all manner of things, whether a chicken, 
 sucking-pig, duck, goose, or hen, or to steal a shirt from the 
 hedge ; for he that will be a " quier cove," (a professed rogue,) 
 must observe these rules. And because thou arta novice in begging, 
 and understandest not the mysteries of the canting language, thou 
 shalt have a wife to be thy companion, by whom thou mayest re- 
 ceive instructions." And thereupon, he singled out a girl of about 
 seventeen years of age, which tickled his fancy very much ; but 
 he must presently be married to her after the fashion of their 
 " patrico," who, amongst the beggars of this period was their 
 priest. Whereupon the ceremony was performed after this manner: — 
 
 They took a hen, and, having cut off the head of it, laid the 
 dead body on the ground, placing Nevison on one side, and his 
 intended on the other; this being done, the priest, standing by, 
 with a loud voice bade them live together till death did them part; 
 then shaking hands, and kissing each other, the ceremony of the 
 wedding was over, and the whole group appeared intoxicated with 
 joy. Night approaching, and all their money being spent, they 
 betook themselves to a barn not far off, where they broached a hogs- 
 head, and went to sleep. 
 
 Nevison, having met with this odd piece of diversion in his jour- 
 ney, slipped out of the barn when all was asleep, took a horse, and 
 posted directly away. But, coming to London he found there 
 
WILLIAM CADY. Vf> 
 
 was too much noise about him to permit him to tarry there: ne 
 therefore returned into the country, and fell to his old pranks aga\n. 
 Several who had been formerly robbed by him, happening to meet 
 him, imagined that his ghost walked abroad, having heard the re- 
 port of his pestilential death in Leicester gaol. In short, his 
 crimes became so notorious, that a reward was offered to any that 
 would apprehend him: this made many waylay him, especially 
 two brothers, named Fletcher, one of whom Nevison shot dead ; 
 but, going into a little village about thirteen miles from York, he 
 was taken by Captain Hardcastle, and sent to York gaol, where, 
 on the 15th March, 1684, he was tried, condemned, and executed, 
 aged forty-five. 
 
 WILLIAM CADY. 
 
 This gentleman was a native of Norfolk county, and the son of 
 an eminent surgeon. After the preparatory steps of education, 
 William went to the University of Cambridge, and was tutor to 
 Lord Townsend. He was during that time made Bachelor of Arts, 
 and continued to pursue his studies until deprived of his father, by 
 deatn. 
 
 The loss of a prudent father to a young man, forms a remarkable 
 era in his life. If he is left with an ample fortune, he has then 
 the means of gratifying his wishes, whether in the field of bene- 
 volence or in that of dissipation : and though left with no fortune, 
 yet he is then at full liberty to follow his ruling inclination. Upon 
 the intelligence of his father's death, William went to London and 
 began to practise medicine. His first patient was his own uncle, 
 who, being dangerously affected with an imposthume, was cured 
 by nim in the following manner : — 
 
 When he entered his uncle's bedchamber, his first care was to 
 examine the state of the old gentleman's stomach: for this purpose 
 he ranged about the room, overturning every plate and dish, to 
 discover what had been given him to eat. He at last discovered an 
 old saddle, which he thought would answer for the intended experi- 
 ment. Upon seeing this he cried out, " Uncle, your case is very 
 desperate !" — " Not so bad, I hope," said the uncle, " as to make 
 me past remedy." — " Heaven knows that," cried Cady; " but a 
 surfeit is a terrible thing, and I perceive that you have got a violent 
 
ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 erne." — " A suifeit!" said the old gentleman: " you mistake, 
 nephew; it is an imposthume that 1 am affected with." — " The 
 deuce it is !" replied Cady ; " why, I could have sworn it had been 
 a surfeit, for I perceive you have ate a whole horse, and left us only 
 the saddle ; at this he held up the saddle ; and the old gentleman 
 fell into such a fit of laughter as instantly broke his imposthume, 
 so that he became quite well in less than a fortnight. 
 
 This is not the only instance of a disease of this nature be'lng 
 cured by a fit of laughter ; and it is certainly an agreeable mode of 
 being relieved of a painful and dangerous malady. 
 
 For this speedy and unexpected cure, his uncle gave him fifty 
 guineas, which supplied his extravagances for one month, but his 
 purse soon becoming empty, he took his leave of the healing art, 
 in which he had been so successful, and commenced robber. His 
 first adventure was with a captain of the guards and another gentle- 
 man, of whom he enquired the way to Staines, as he was a stranger. 
 They informed him that they were going to that place, and that 
 tney would be glad of his company. When he arrived at a con- 
 venient place, Cady shot the gentleman through the head, and, 
 turning to the officer, told him that " if he did not deliver, he should 
 share the same fate." The other replied that as he was a captain 
 of the guards, Cady must fight if he expected to get anything from 
 him. " If you are a soldier," cried Cady, " you ought to obey the 
 word of command, otherwise you know your sentence: I have 
 nothing to do but to tie you neck and heel." " You are an un- 
 conscionable rogue," said the captain, " to demand money of me 
 who never owed you any." " Sir," replied Cady, " there is not 
 a man that travels the road but owes me money, if he has any 
 about him: therefore, as you are one of my debtors, if you do not 
 pay me instantly, your blood shall satisfy my demand." The 
 captain exchanged several shots with Cady ; but his horse being 
 killed under him, he surrendered his watch, a diamond ring, and 
 a purse of twenty guineas. William, having collected all he could, 
 tied the captain neck and heel, nailed the skirts of his coat to a 
 tree, and rode off in search of more booty. 
 
 His next encounter was with Viscount Dundee, who commanded 
 the forces of James II. and fell in the battle of Killicrankie. 
 Dundee was mounted upon horseback, attended by two servants. 
 Cady rode up to them at full speed, and enquired if they had not 
 seen a man ride past with more than ordinary haste, " Yes," he 
 was presently answered. Cady replied, " the villain has robbed 
 me of twenty pounds that 1 was going to pay my landlord, and I 
 
WILLIAM CADY. 97 
 
 i.111 ruined !" The man who had ridden by was a confederate, and 
 had done so by express concert. His lordship was moved with 
 compassion, and ordered the two footmen to pursue the robber. 
 When the servants seemed to have got to a sufficient distance, Cady 
 turned upon his lordship, and robbed him of a gold watch, a gold 
 snuff-box, and fifty guineas. He then shot the Viscount's horse, 
 and rode after the footmen, whom he found about a mile off with 
 the supposed robber as their prisoner. These men were surprised 
 when Cady desired them to let him go, and laughed at them for what 
 they had done. They, however, refusing to part with their prey, 
 a scuffle ensued, and one of the footmen being slain; the other lied, 
 and found that his master had been dismounted and robbed. 
 
 Dundee complained of this injury at Court, and a reward of two 
 hundred pounds was offered to any person who should apprehend 
 either Cady or his companion, who were both minutely described. 
 To evade the diligent search which he was certain this proclamation 
 would occasion, he went over to Flanders. As he had received a 
 liberal education, he entered himself of the English seminary of 
 Douay, and, joining the fraternity of Benedictine Friars, soon 
 acquired an extraordinary character for learning and piety. The 
 natural result was, that many penitents resorted to him for confes- 
 sion. The rigid sanctity and ecclesiastical duties of Cady were, 
 however soon found rather troublesome companions, and he resolved 
 to return to England, preferring his rambles upon the highway to 
 the devotions of the convent. But as money was necessary for his 
 voyage, his invention was again set in motion. 
 
 To effect his purpose, he feigned himself sick, and, being con- 
 fined to his bed, was visited by many of those who had formerly 
 employed him as their father-confessor. He particularly fixed his 
 attention upon two young women, who generally came together, 
 and were both very rich and very handsome. He had previously 
 procured a brace of pistols. When the ladies next came to him, 
 and had made their confession, he desired them presently to attend 
 to him. He briefly informed them that he was greatly in want of 
 money, and that if they did not instantly supply his wants, he 
 would deprive them of their lives, holding at the same time a pistol 
 to their breasts. He then proceeded to rifle their pockets, where 
 he found fifty pistoles. In addition to this, he compelled the ni to 
 make an offering of two diamond rings from their fingers; men 
 binding them both together, he informed the father of the convent 
 that he was going to walk a little in the fields, and would soon return. 
 
38 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 It is needless to say that he returned no more to his religious haoita 
 tion, but renewed his former mode of life. 
 
 Scarcely was he arrived in England, when he meta hop-merchant, 
 accompanied by his wife, upon Blackheath, and commanded tnein 
 to stand and deliver. The merchant made a stout resistance, fixing 
 two pistols, but without effect; so that he was left to the mercy 01 
 the robber, v/ho killed his horse, and, examining their pockets, 
 found twenty-eight pounds upon the merchant, and half-a-crBwn 
 upon his wife. 
 
 Cady then addressed her thus : " Is this your way of travelling ? 
 What ! carry but half-a-crown in your pocket, when you are to 
 meet a gentleman-collector on the highway? I'll assure you, Madam, 
 I shall be even with you, therefore off with that ring from your 
 linger." She begged him to spare her marriage-ring, as she would 
 not lose it for double the value, having kept and worn it these twenty 
 years. " You whining old woman," quoth William, " marriage 
 is nothing to me ; — am 1 to be more favourable to you than any 
 other woman, I'll warrant? Give me the ring in a moment, without 
 any more cant, or I shall make bold to cut off your linger for 
 dispatch, as I have served several of your sex before." The good 
 woman, seeing all her entreaties vain, hastily pulled the ring off 
 her finger, and thrust it into her mouth. Cady then stamped, raged, 
 and swore, that he would be even with her ; and instantly shooting 
 her through the head, went away perfectly unmoved, while the 
 husband, being tied to a tree, was a spectator of this horrid 
 barbarity. 
 
 Cady rode instantly to London, but fearing that even that great 
 city could not conceal the author of a crime so unparalleled, he 
 left the metropolis, and went to Scotland. Either his inclinations 
 did not lead him, or he deemed that country too poor to afford him 
 sufficient booty, he therefore soon returned again to England. On 
 his road to the capital, between Ferrybridge and Doncaster, he 
 met with Dr. Morton, a prebendary of Durham, well mounted; 
 but whether meditating upon the amount of his tithes, or the next 
 Sabbath's sermon, is uncertain. Cady instantly rode up to him, 
 and cried, " Deliver or you are a dead man !" the doctor unaccus- 
 tomed to such language, began to admonish him concerning the 
 atrocity of his conduct, and the danger he was in, both with respect 
 to his body and soul. Cady stared him in the face with all the 
 tprocity that he could muster, and informed himthat his lemon- 
 •tranccs were in vain, «aying that if he did not deliver him what 
 
WILLIAM CADY. 99 
 
 he had, he should speedily send him out of the world. " But then," 
 added Cady, " that is nothing, because all the gentlemen of your 
 cloth are prepared for death. " What, you unreasonable, you 
 unmannerly dog!'' continued he, in a rage, unable to discover 
 the doctor's cash : " what do you mean, to meet a man in the midst 
 of his journey, without bringing him any money to pay his charges?" 
 For the doctor had taken care, to hide his money in a hedge, so 
 that Cady, upon examining him, found his pockets completely 
 empty. The ruffian, convinced that a man of his appearance could 
 not travel without money, with dreadful imprecations threatened 
 that if he would not inform him what he had done with it, he should 
 never go home alive. The doctor insisting that he had none, the 
 wretch shot him instantly through the heart. 
 
 He next undertook a journey into Norfolk to visit his relations, 
 but meeting a coach near that place, in which were three gentlemen 
 and a lady, he rode up to it and addressed them in his own language. 
 The gentlemen, however, were resolved to stand upon the defensive, 
 and one of them fired a blunderbuss at him, which only grazed his 
 arm, without doing any material injury. This put him into a 
 violent passion, and, after taking a hundred and fifty pounds from 
 the company, he brutally added, that t\ e gentleman who fired at 
 him should not pass unpunished, anu instantly shot him through 
 the heart; then, cutting the reins of the horses, he went off in 
 search of new plunder, and declined visiting his relations upon 
 that occasion, lest he should have been detected. 
 
 Directing his course to London, he came up with a lady taking 
 a ride for the benefit of the air, attended by a single footman, and 
 fell upon her in a very rude manner, pulling a diamond ring from 
 her finger, a gold watch out of her pocket, and a purse with eighty 
 guineas; insulting her meanwhile with opprobrious language. 
 Though the lady had commanded her footman not to interfere, yet 
 the man could not help complimenting Cady with some well-merited 
 appellations. The ferocious monster, without uttering a word, 
 saluted him with a brace of bullets in the head, and he fell upon 
 the spot. Cady was just about to prosecute his journey, when two 
 gentlemen, perceiving what he had done, rode up to him with pistols 
 in their hands. Cady seeing his danger, fired at them, and shots 
 were exchanged with the greatest rapidity, until Cady's horse was 
 shot under him; and even then he struggled with the greatest 
 violence with the gentlemen, until his strength was exhausted; he 
 was then apprehended, and carried to Newgate under a strong 
 guard. There he remained until the assizes, without showing the 
 
.00 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 least signs of repentan'e, 01 tokens of regret. Upon his trial he 
 behaved with the most daring insolence, calling the judges "a 
 huddle of alms-women," and treating the jury in the same manner. 
 The crime for which he was accused was so clearly proved, that he 
 was sentenced to death, and committed to the condemned hole. 
 But this place of darkness and horror had no effect upon his mind. 
 tie continued to roar, curse, blaspheme, and get drunk, as he 
 had always done. It is probable that the hope of pardon, by the 
 influence of some friends at court, tended to harden him the more ; * 
 but the number and enormity of his crimes prevented the extension 
 of royal mercy to such a miscreant. The day of execution being 
 come, and the cart stopping as usual under St. Sepulchre's wall, 
 while the bellman rang his bell, and repeated his exhortations, 
 instead of being moved, he began to swear and rail, because they 
 stopped him to hear an old puppy chatter nonsense. At Tyburn he 
 acted in a similar manner; without either taking any notice of the 
 ordinary, praying by himself, or addressing the people, he rushed 
 into an eternal state to suffer the just punishment of his great and 
 numerous offences. He died in the twenty-fifth year of his age, 
 'n the year 1687. 
 
 PATRICK O'BRIAN. 
 
 Patrick O'Brian was a native of Ireland, and his parents were 
 very indigent. He came over to England, and enlisted in the 
 Coldstream Gaards. He was, however, not so dexterous in the 
 use of his arms as he was in the practice of all manner of vice. 
 Patrick was resolved not to want money, if there was any in the 
 country. He first ran into debt at all the public-houses and shops 
 that would trust him; then borrowed from every person, as long 
 as any one could be found to believe him. 
 
 When fraud failed him, he had recourse to force. Doctor Clewer, 
 rector of Croydon, was the first whom he attacked. This man 
 had been, in his youth, tried at the Old Bailey, and burned in the 
 hand, for stealing a silver cup. Alluding to this, Patrick said, 
 " That he could not refuse lending a little assistanee to one of his 
 old profession." The Doctor assured him, " That he had not any 
 money about him; not even so much as a single farthing." 
 
 " Then," said Patrick, " I must have your gown, sir." '• 11 
 
PATRICK O'BRIAN. 101 
 
 you can win it," cried the Doctor, " you shall; but let me have 
 the chaoce of a game at cards; they commenced, Patrick was vic- 
 torious, and obtained the black gown. 
 
 One day, he attacked a famous posturemaster, and commanded 
 him to " Stand and deliver!" the latter instantly jumped over his 
 head, which led Patrick to suppose that it was the devil come to 
 sport with him before his time. By this display of his agility, the 
 harlequin escaped with his money, and had the good fortune never 
 to afford an opportunity to O'Brian to be revenged of him for his 
 fright. 
 
 Our adventurer at last commenced highwayman. For this pur- 
 pose he purchased a horse and other necessaries, and began in due 
 form." He one day met with the celebrated Nell Gwynne in her 
 coach, and addressed her, saying : — " Madam, I am a gentleman; 
 I have done a great many signal services to the fair sex, and have, 
 in return, been all my life maintained by them. Now, as 1 know 
 you to be a charitable woman, I make bold to ask you for a little 
 money, though I never had the honour of serving you in particular. 
 However, if any opportunity shall ever fall in my way, you may 
 depend upon it I will not be ungrateful." Nell made him a present 
 of ten guineas, and he went ofT in quest of more plunder. 
 
 It was with O'Brian as with every other wicked man ; he was 
 solicitous to lead others to the same line of conduct. In particular, 
 he seduced a young man, of the name of Wilt, who was apprehend- 
 ed, and suffered for his first offence. O'Brian was also apprehended, 
 and executed at Gloucester ; and when he had hung the usual time, 
 his body was cut down, and given to his friends ; but when carried 
 home, he was observed to move, on which a surgeon was immediately 
 sent for, who bled him; and other means being used, he recovered 
 life. This fact was kept a secret, and it was hoped, that it would 
 have had a salutary effect upon his future conduct. His friends 
 were very willing to contribute towards his support, in order that 
 he might live in the most retired manner, and O'Brian engaged to 
 reform his life, and for some time kept his promise ; but the im- 
 pressions of death, and all its tremendous consequences, soon 
 wearing off his mind, he returned to his vicious courses. Aban- 
 doning his friends, and purchasing a horse aud other necessaries, 
 2 Brian again visited the road. 
 
 In about a year after his execution, he met the very gentleman 
 who was his former prosecutor, and attacked him in the same man- 
 ner as before. The gentleman was surprised to see himself stopped 
 by the very same person who had formerly robbed him, and who 
 
102 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 was executed for that crime. His consternation was so great, that 
 he could not avoid exhibiting it, and he addressed O'Brian, saying, 
 " How comes this to pass ? I thought that you had been hanged a 
 twelvemonth ago?'* " So I was, and therefoie you ought to ima- 
 gine that what you now see is only my ghost. However, lest you 
 should be so uncivil as to hang my ghost too, 1 think it my best 
 way to secure you." Upon this, he discharged a pistol through tbq 
 gentleman's head, and, alighting from his horse, cut his body in 
 pieces with his hanger. 
 
 This barbarity was followed by a greater. O'Brian, accompani- 
 ed by four others, attacked the house of Launcelot Wilmot, Esq. 
 of Wiltshire, entered, and bound all the servants; then went up 
 to the gentleman's own room, and bound him and his wife. They 
 next proceeded to the daughter's chamber, whom they stabbed to 
 the heart, and having returned, in the same manner butchered the 
 old people, and rifled the house to the value of £2500. 
 
 This miscreant continued his depredations two years longer, 
 until one of his accomplices confessed his crimes, and informed 
 upon all who were concerned. Our adventurer was seized at his 
 lodgings at Little Suffolk-street, and conveyed to Salisbury, where 
 he was tried and condemned. He was a second time executed, and, 
 to prevent another resuscitation, was hung in chains, near the 
 place where the crime was perpetrated, on the 30th of April, 1681*. 
 
 THOMAS RUMBOLD. 
 
 Rum bold was the son of honest and industrious parents, who lived 
 at Ipswich, in Suffolk. In his youth he was apprenticed to a brick- 
 layer; but evil inclinations gaining an ascendancy over his mini, 
 he quitted his employment before a third part of his time was ex • 
 pired. In order to support himself after having absconded, ana 
 conceiving a great desire to see London, he repaired thither, and 
 soon confederated himself with a gang of robbers. In conjunction 
 with these he shared in many daring exploits ; but, wishing to try 
 his skill and fortune alone, he left them, and repaired to the road. 
 He travelled from London with the intention of waylaying the 
 Archbishop of Canterbury. Having got sight of the party between 
 Rochester and Sittingbourne in Kent, he went into a field, and plac- 
 ing a tablecloth on the grass, on which he placed several handfuis 
 i)f gold and silver, took a box and dice out of his pocket, and com 
 
THOMAS RUMBOLD. 103 
 
 menced a game at hazard by himself. His Grace observing him in 
 this situation, sent a servant to inquire the meaning; who upon 
 coming near Rumbold, heard him swearing and rioting about his 
 losses, but never paid the least attention to his questions. The 
 servant returned, and informed the prelate, who alighted, and see- 
 ing none but Rumbold, asked him whom he played with ? " Pray, 
 pir," said Rumbold, " be silent — five hundred pounds lost in a 
 jiTey !" His Grace was about to speak again ; — " Ay," continued 
 Rumbold, continuing to play on, " there goes a hundred more !" 
 " Pr'ythee," said the archbishop, " do tell me whom you play with." 
 
 Rumbold replied, " With ," naming some one who perhaps 
 
 never had existence . " And how will you send the money to him ?" 
 " By his ambassadors," quoth Rumbold ; " and, considering your 
 Grace as one of them extraordinary, I shall beg the favour of you 
 to carry it to him." He accordingly rose, and went up to the 
 carriage, and, placing in the seat about six hundred pounds, rode 
 off. He proceeded on the road he knew the archbishop had to 
 travel, and both, after having refreshed at Sittingbourne, again 
 took the road, Rumbold preceding the bishop by a short distance. 
 He waited at a convenient place, and again seated himself on the 
 grass in the same manner as before, only having very little money 
 on the cloth. The bishop again observed him, and now believing him 
 really to be a mad gamester, walked up to him, and just as his 
 Grace was going to accost him, Rumbold cried out with great seem- 
 ing joy, " Six hundred pounds !" " What," said the archbishop, 
 " losing again?" " No, by G — !" replied Rumbold, " won six 
 hundred pounds ! Pll play this hand out, and then leave off while 
 I'm well." " And of whom have you won them?" said his grace. 
 " Of the same person that I left the six hundred pounds for with 
 you, before dinner." " And how will you get your winnings?'' 
 " Of his ambassador, to be sure," said Rumbold; so, presenting 
 his pistol and drawn sword, he rode up to the carriage, and took 
 from the seat his own money, and fourteen hundred pounds besides, 
 with which he got clear off. 
 
 With part of this money Rumbold bought himself an eligible 
 situation ; but still he could not give up his propensity of appropri- 
 ating to himself the purses of others. For many miles round Lon- 
 don he had the waiters and chambermaids of the inns enlisted into 
 his service ; and though, to all appearance, he was in an honest 
 way of gaining a livelihood, yet he continued his nefarious courses 
 to a great extent. He was not, indeed, always successful; but, 
 Having once been apprised of two rich travellers being at an inn 
 
104 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEM. 
 
 where one of his assistants was, he left London immediately, and 
 waited on the road which he had been informed the travellers were 
 to take : long, however, he might have waited, for they were too 
 cunning, and pretended to be travelling to the place which they 
 had last left. Determined, however, not to return without doing 
 some business, he loitered about, till the Earl of Oxford, attended 
 by a single footman appeared, and, being known to his lordship, 
 he disguised himself by throwing his long hair over his face, and 
 holding it with his teeth. In this clumsy mask he rode up, d emanded 
 his lordship's purse, and threatened to shoot both the servant and 
 him if they made the least resistance. Expostulations were vain, 
 and he proceeded to rifle the earl, in whose coat and waistcoat he 
 found nothing but dice and cards, and was much enraged, till, 
 feeling the other pockets, he discovered a nest of " goldfinches," 
 (guineas,) with which he was mightily pleased, and said he would 
 take them home and cage them; recommending his lordship to 
 return to his regiment, and attend to his duty, giving him a shilling 
 as an encouragement. 
 
 As Rumbold was riding along the road, he met a country girl 
 with a milk-pail on her head, with whose beauty and symmetry of 
 shape he was greatly taken. Having entered into conversation, 
 Rumbold alighted, and, excusing himself for the freedom, sat 
 beside her while she milked her cows. Pleased with each other's 
 company, they made an assignment the same evening ; our adven- 
 turer was to come to her father's house at a late hour, and, pretend- 
 ing to have lost his road, solicit a night's lodging. The plan was 
 accordingly followed out ; but they were disappointed in each others 
 society that evening, for some one of the family kept astir all ni^ht. 
 Determined, however, not to leave his fair convert, he pretended 
 in the morning to be taken dangerously ill, and the good farmer 
 rode off immediately for medical assistance. All the power of 
 surgery, however, could not discover his ailment. The farmer 
 kindly insisted upon his remaining where he was until he should 
 recover, to which he, with great professions of gratitude, assented. 
 Completely overpowered by such generosity, Rumbold wished to 
 make some apparent return ; and, borrowing a name, told him he 
 was a bachelor of property in a certain county; that he bad hitherto 
 remained secure against the attacks of beauty, but that ho was now 
 vanquished by the attractions of his daughter, and hoped, Ef tjhe 
 girl had no objection, that a proposal of marriage would nol l>e 
 unacceptable to the family. The farmer, in his turn, overcome 
 by such a mark of condescension, expressed himself highly grail- 
 
THOMAS RUMBOLD. 105 
 
 lied by the proposal ; and, upon communicating it to the family, 
 all were agreeable, and none more than the girl. The idea of 
 adding gentility to the fortune which the farmer intended for his 
 daughter, quite elated him, and made him extremely anxious to 
 gain the favour of the suitor, Rumbold followed out his plans, 
 and his endearments with the daughter were thus more frequent 
 than he expected. His principal design was to sift the girl as to 
 the quantity of money her father had in the house, and where it lay ; 
 but he was chagrined when informed that there were only a few 
 pounds ; for that, a few days before they met, her father had made 
 a great purchase, which took all his ready money. Seeing, now, 
 that there was no chance of gleaning the father's harvest, he re- 
 solved to leave the family, and accordingly, one evening took his 
 march incognito, leaving the girl a present of twenty pieces of gold, 
 inclosed in a copy of verses. 
 
 He proceeded on the road, and met with no person worthy his 
 notice until the following day, when a singular occurrence happened 
 to him. Passing by a small coppice between two hills, a gentleman, 
 as he supposed, darted out upon him, and commanded him to stand 
 and deliver. Rumbold requested him to have patience, and he 
 would surrender all his property; when, putting his hand in his 
 pocket, he drew a pistol, and fired at his opponent without the shot 
 taking effect. "If you are for sport," cried the other, " you shall 
 have it!" and instantly shot him slightly in the thigh: and at the 
 same moment drawing his sword, he cut Rumbold's reins at one 
 blow ; thus rendering him unable to manage his horse. Rumbold 
 fired his remaining pistol, and again missed his adversary, but shot 
 his horse dead. Thus dismounted, the gentleman made a thrust 
 at him with his sword, which missing Rumbold, penetrated his 
 horse, and brought them once more upon an equality. After hard 
 fighting on both sides, our adventurer threw his adversary, bound 
 him hand and foot, and proceeded to his more immediate object 
 of rifling. Upon opening his coat he was amazed to discover that 
 he had been fighting with a woman. Raising her up in his arms, 
 he exclaimed, " Pardon me, most courageous Amazon, for thus 
 rudely dealing with you : it was nothing but ignorance that caused 
 this error ; for, could my dim-sighted soul have distinguished what 
 you were, the great love and respect 1 bear your sex would have 
 deterred me from contending with you : but 1 esteem this ignorance 
 of mine as the greatest happiness, since knowledge, in this case, 
 might have deprived me of the opportunity of knowing there could 
 be so much valour in a woman. For your sake, I shall for ever 
 
106 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 retain a very high esteem for the worst of females." The Amazon 
 replied, that this was neither a place nor opportunity for eloquent 
 speeches, but that, if he felt no reluctance, she would conduct him 
 to a more appropriate place ; to which he readily assented. They 
 entered a dark wood and, following the winding of several obscure 
 passages, arrived at a house upon which, apparently, the sun had 
 not been accustomed to shine. A number of servants appeared, 
 and bustled about their lady, whose disguise was familiar to then*; 
 but they were astonished to see her return on foot, attended by a 
 stranger. 
 
 Being conducted to an elegant apartment, and having been re- 
 freshed by whatever the house afforded, they became very familiar, 
 and Rumbold pressed his companion to relate her history, which, 
 with great frankness, she did in the following words : — 
 
 " I cannot, Sir, deny your request, since we seem to have formed 
 a friendship which, I hope, will turn out to our mutual advantage. 
 I am the daughter of a sword-cutler : in my youth my mother would 
 have taught me to handle a needle, but my martial spirit gainsaid 
 all persuasions to that purpose. I never could bear to be among 
 the utensils of the kitchen, but was constantly in my father's shop, 
 and took wonderful delight in handling the warlike instruments ho 
 made; to take a sharp and well-mounted sword in my hand, and 
 brandish it, was my chief recreation. Being about twelve years 
 of age, I studied by every means possible, how I might form an 
 acquaintance with a fencing-master. Time brought my desires to 
 an accomplishment; for such a person came into my father's shop 
 to have a blade furnished, and it so happened that there was none 
 to answer him but myself. Having given him the satisfaction ho 
 desired, though he did not expect it from me, among other questions 
 I asked him if he was not a professor of that noble science of self- 
 defence, which I was pretty sure of from his postures, looks, and 
 expressions. He answered in the affirmative, and I informed him 
 I was glad of the opportunity, and begged him to conceal my inten- 
 tion, while I requested he would instruct me in the art of fencing. 
 At first, he seemed amazed at my proposal; but, perceiving I was 
 resolved in good earnest, he granted my request, and appointed a 
 time which he could conveniently allot to that purpose. In a short 
 time I became so expert at back-sword and single rapier, that I no 
 longer required his assistance, and my parents never once discover- 
 ed this transaction. 
 
 " I shall wave what exploits I did by the help of my disguise, 
 and only tell you that, when I reached the age of fifteen, an inn- 
 
THOMAS RUMBOLD. 107 
 
 keeper married me, and carried me into the country. For two 
 years we lived peaceably and comfortably together ; but at length 
 the violent and imperious temper of my husband called my natural 
 humour into action. Once a week we seldom missed a combat, 
 which generally proved very sharp, especially on the head of the 
 poor innkeeper; the gaping wounds of our discontent, were not 
 easily salved, and they in a manner became incurable. I w r as not 
 much inclined to love him, because he was a man of a mean and 
 dastardly spirit. Being likewise stinted in cash, my life grew 
 altogether comfortless, and I looked on my condition as insupport- 
 able, and, as a means of mitigating my troubles, I was compelled 
 to adopt the resolution of borrowing a purse occasionally. I judged 
 this resolution safe enough, if I were not detected in the very act; 
 for who could suspect me to be a robber, wearing abroad man's ap- 
 parel, but at home a dress more suitable to my sex ? Besides, no one 
 could procure better information, or had more frequent opportunities 
 than myself; for, keeping an inn, who could ascertain what booty 
 their guest carried with them better than their landlady ? 
 
 " As you can vouch, Sir, I knew myself not to be destitute of 
 courage; what, then, could hinder me from entering on such enter- 
 prises ? Having thus resolved, I soon provided myself with the 
 necessary habiliments for my scheme, carried it into immediate 
 execution, and continued with great success, never having failed 
 till now. Instead of riding to market, or travelling five or six 
 miles about some piece of business (the usual pretences with which 
 I blinded my husband,) I would, when out of sight, take the road 
 to the house in which we now are, where I metamorphosed myself, 
 and proceeded back again in search of prey. Not long since, my 
 husband had one hundred pounds due to him about twenty miles 
 from home, and appointed a certain day for receiving it. Glad 1 
 was to hear of this, and instantly resolved to be revenged on him 
 for all the injuries and churlish outrages he had committed against 
 me ; I knew very well the way he went, and understood the time 
 he intended to return. I waylaid him, and had not to wait above 
 three hours, when my lord and master made his appearance, whist- 
 ling with joy at his heavy purse. I soon made him change the 
 tune to a more doleful ditty in lamentation of his bad fortune. I 
 permitted him to pass, but soon overtook him, and keeping close 
 by him for a mile or two, at length I found the coast clear, and, 
 riding up and seizing his bridle, presented a pistol to his breast, 
 and, in a hoarse voice, demanded his purse 9 else he was a dead man. 
 My cowardly husband, seeing death before him, had nearly saved 
 
108 ENGLISH HIWHWAYMEN. 
 
 me the rouDle by dying without compulsion ; and so terrified did 
 he appear, that he looked more like an apparition than any thing 
 human. ■ Sirrah !' said I, * be expeditious ;' but a dead palsy had 
 seized every part of him, so that he appeared incapable of direct- 
 ing his hands to his pockets. I soon recalled his spirits by two or 
 three sharp blows with the flat of my sword, which speedily awakened 
 him, and, with great trembling and submission, he resignetLhis 
 money. After I had dismounted him, I cut his horse's reins and 
 saddle-girths, beat him most soundly, and dismissed him, saying • 
 * Now, you rogue, I am even with you ; have a care, the next time 
 you strike a woman, (your wife, I mean,) for none but such as dare 
 not fight a man, will lift up his hand against the weaker vessel. 
 Now you see what it is to provoke them. For, if once irritated, 
 they are restless till they accomplish their revenge to their satisfac 
 tion : I have a good mind to end your wicked courses with your life, 
 inhuman varlet, but I am loth to be hanged for nothing, I mean 
 for such a worthless fellow as you are. Farewell ! this money shall 
 serve me to purchase wine to drink * confusion to all unmanly and 
 brutal husbands!' " 
 
 This extraordinary character was about to proceed with the nar 
 ration of her exploits, when the servant announced the arrival of 
 two gentlemen. Our heroine left the room, and returning with her 
 friends, apologised to our adventurer for the interruption, but hoped 
 he would not find the company of her acquaintances disagreeable, 
 whom he soon discovered to be likewise females in disguise. The 
 conversation became general, and, upon condition of Rumbold 
 stopping all night with them, the Amazon promised to finish her 
 adventures next day. This accorded with the wishes of Rumbold; 
 and when they retired to rest, he found the same room was destined 
 for them all. His curiosity was, however, overcome by his cove- 
 tousness ; for, rising early next morning, and finding all his com- 
 panions asleep, he rifled their pockets of a considerable quantity of 
 gold, and decamped with great expedition, thus disappointing the 
 reader in the continuation of a narrative almost incredible from its 
 singularity. 
 
 Our adventurer had frequently observed a goldsmith in Lombard 
 Street, counting large bags of gold, and he became very desirous 
 to have a share of the glittering hoard. He made several unsuc- 
 cessful attempts; but having in his possession many rings, which 
 he had procured in the way of his profession, he dressed himself 
 in the habit of a countryman, attended by a servant, and going to 
 the goldsmith's shop, proposed to sell one of these rings. The 
 
THOMAS RUMBOLD. 109 
 
 goldsmith, perceiving it to be a diamond of considerable value, and 
 from the appearance of Rumbold, supposing he was ignorant of its 
 real worth, after examining it, with some hesitation, estimated its 
 value at ten pounds. To convince the countryman that this was 
 its full value, he showed him a diamond ring very superior in qua- 
 lity, which he would sell him for twenty pounds. Rumbold took 
 the goldsmith's ring to compare with his own, and, fully acquainted 
 with its value, informed him that he had come to sell, but that it 
 was a matter of small importance to him whether he purchased or 
 sold. He accordingly pulled out a purse of gold, and laid down 
 the twenty pounds for the ring. The goldsmith stormed and raged, 
 and cried that he had cheated him, and insisted on having back his 
 ring. Rumbold, however, kept hold of his bargain, and replied, 
 that the other had offered him the ring for twenty pounds ; that he 
 had a witness to his bargain ; there was his money, and he hoped 
 that he would give him a proper exchange for his gold. 
 
 The goldsmith's indignation increasing at the prospect of parting 
 with his ring, he carried the matter before a justice. Being plain- 
 tiff he began his tale, by informing the magistrate, " that the 
 countryman had taken a diamond ring from him worth a hundred 
 pounds, and would give him but twenty pounds for it." " Have a 
 care," replied Rumbold, " for if you charge me with taking a ring 
 from you, which is, in other words, stealing, I shall vex you more 
 than I have yet done." He then told the magistrate the whole 
 story, and produced his servant as a witness to the bargain. The 
 goldsmith now became infuriated, exclaiming, that " he believed 
 the country gentleman and his servant were both impostors and 
 cheats !" Rumbold replied, " that he would do well to take care 
 not to make his cause worse ; that he was a gentleman of three 
 hundred pounds per annum ; and that, being desirous to sell a ring 
 at its just price to the goldsmith, the latter endeavoured to cheat 
 him by estimating it below its value." The magistrate, accordingly, 
 decided in favour of our adventurer, only appointing him to pay 
 the twenty pounds in gold, without any exchange. 
 
 The riches of Lombard Street still continuing to attract the atten- 
 tion of Rumbold, he with longing eyes one day traversed that street, 
 attended by a boy whom he had trained in his service. The boy 
 ran into a shop where they were counting a bag of gold, seized a 
 handful, then let it all fall upon the counter, and ran off. The 
 servants pursued, seized the boy, and charged him with having 
 some of the money. Rumbold approached to the assistance of the 
 lad, insisting that the v uth had not stolen a farthing of th*it 
 
110 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 money, and that the goldsmith should suffer for his audacity. The 
 goldsmith and Rumbold came to high words, and mutual vollies 
 of imprecations were exchanged. The latter then enquired what 
 sum he charged the boy with having stolen ? The goldsmith replied, 
 that he did not know, but the bag originally contained a hundred 
 guineas. 
 
 Upon this, Rumbold insisted that he would wait until he saw the 
 money counted. He tarried about half an hour, and the mfkiey 
 was found complete. The goldsmith made an apology to Rumbold 
 for the mistake; but the latter replied, that, as a gentleman, no 
 one should put such an affront upon him with impunity. After some 
 strong expressions on both sides, Rumbold took his leave, assuring 
 his antagonist that he should hear from him. The goldsmith was 
 arrested the day following, in an action of defamation. The bailiti 
 who arrested him, being bribed by our adventurer, advised him to 
 compromise the matter; urging, that the gentleman he had injured 
 was a person of quality, and if he persisted in the action, it would 
 expose him to severe damages. With some difficulty the matter 
 was settled, by the goldsmith giving Rumbold twenty pounds in 
 damages. 
 
 A goldsmith in Foster Lane next supplied the extravagances of 
 Rumbold. He had often disposed of articles for that tradesman, who 
 had full confidence in our hero's fidelity. One day, having observ- 
 ed in his shop a very rich jewel, he acquainted the goldsmith that he 
 could sell it for him. Happy at such information, he delivered it 
 to Rumbold, who carried it to a clever workman to have a false one, 
 exactly similar, prepared ; and then embraced an opportunity 
 to leave the counterfeit with the goldsmith's wife, in his absence. 
 Shortly afterwards, he met the husband in the street, who said he 
 never expected to have been so used by him, and threatened to 
 bring the matter under the cognizance of a judge; but Rumbold, 
 fearing the result, retreated to a remote part of the city. 
 
 Rumbold was one day reconoitering in the vicinity of Hackney, 
 when his attention was directed towards a house, which he earnestly 
 desired to possess. He approached the house, knocked at the door, 
 and enquired if the landlord was at home. He soon appeared; 
 when Rumbold politely informed him, that, having been highly 
 pleased with the appearance of hifl house, he was resolved to have 
 one built after the same model, and requested the favour of being 
 permitted to send a tradesman to take its exact dimensions. This 
 favour was readily granted ; when our adventurer went to a carpen- 
 ter, and informed him that he wished him to go along with him to 
 
THOMAS RUMBOLD. Ill 
 
 Hackney to measure a house, in order that he might have one built 
 on a similar construction. They accordingly went, and found the 
 gentleman at home, who kindly entertained Rumbold, while the 
 carpenter took the dimensions of every part of the house. 
 
 The carpenter being amply rewarded, was dismissed, and, by 
 the aid of the draft of the house taken by him, Rumbold drew up 
 a lease, with a very great penalty in case of failure to fulfill the 
 agreement. Being provided with witnesses to the deed, he went 
 and demanded possession. The gentleman was surprised, and 
 only smiled at the absurdity of the demand. Rumbold commenced 
 a law-suit for possession of the house, and his witnesses swore to 
 the validity of the deed. The carpenter's evidence was also pro- 
 cured, many other circumstances were mentioned to corroborate 
 the fact, and a verdict was obtained in favour of Rumbold' s claim. 
 But the gentleman deemed it proper to pay the penalty rather than 
 lose his house. 
 
 Rumbold, disguised in the apparel of a person of quality, one 
 day waited on a scrivener, and acquainted him that he had im- 
 mediate occasion for a hundred pounds, which he hoped he would 
 be able to raise for him on good security. The scrivener enquired 
 who were the securities, and Rumbold named two respectable cit* 
 zens, whom he knew to be at that time in the country; which satisfy- 
 ing the money-lender, he desired our adventurer to call next day. In 
 the mean time the lender made enquiry after the stability of the se- 
 curities, and found he had not been imposed upon as to their respec- 
 tability. Our adventurer again waited upon the scrivener, who 
 having agreed to advance the sum, Rumbold sent for two of his 
 accomplices who personated his securities, and, after a little preli- 
 minary caution, signed the bond under the assumed names; and, 
 upon Rumbold's receiving the money, they immediately took their 
 leave. The name which Rumbold assumed on this occasion was of 
 further service to him ; for it happened to be that of a gentleman in 
 Surrey, whom he met with, after this adventure, at an inn. Hav- 
 ing learned what time the gentleman intended to remain in town, 
 and the name and situation of his estate, he determined to render 
 this chance meeting of service to him. He, accordingly, again 
 waited on the scrivener, and informed him he had occasion for 
 another hundred, but did not wish to trouble any of his friends to 
 become security for such a trifle ; for that, as he possessed a good 
 estate, it might be advanced upon his own bond ; and that if the 
 scrivener could spare a servant to ride the length of Surrey, he 
 would then learn the extent of his estate, and be enabled to remove 
 
112 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN 
 
 any scruple whatever. A servant was accordingly sent, and 
 directed to go and make enquiry after the property of the stranger 
 whom Rumbold had met at the inn. Returning in a few days, 
 Rumbold found the scrivener very condescending, and prodigal of 
 congratulations upon the possession of so pleasant and valuable a 
 property, and said he would not have scrupled though the loan had 
 been for a thousand. Rumbold, finding him thus inclined, doubled 
 the sum, and, after giving his own bond for two hundred pounds, 
 left the scrivener to seek redress as be best could. 
 
 Rumbold thus supported himself by exercising his ingenuity at 
 the expence of others, and by this means amassed a considerable sum 
 of money. He was not so much addicted to these bad habits but that 
 he felt an inclination to retire from scenes so fraught with danger 
 and infamy. For this purpose he placed his money in the hands of 
 a private banker, with a design of living frugally and comfortably 
 upon the interest. This banker unfortunately failed, and made off 
 with all Rumbold's property; so that he was once more reduced to 
 the necessity of having recourse to his old employment. 
 
 The first exploit recorded of Rumbold after his re-appearance in 
 public, is the following: — He stopped at a tavein, where he called 
 for a flagon of beer, which was handed him in a silver cup, as was 
 customary at that time. Being in a private room and alone, he 
 called for the landlord to partake of his noggin, and they continued 
 together for some time, until the landlord had occasion to leave him. 
 Soon after, he went to the bar, and paid for his beer, while the 
 waiter at the same time went for the cup ; missing which, he called 
 Rumbold back, and asked him for it. " Cup!" said Rumbold, 
 " I left it in the room." A careful search was made, but to no 
 effect; the cup could not be found, and the landlord openly accused 
 Rumbold of the theft. He willingly permitted his person to be 
 searched, which proved equally unsuccessful ; but the landlord still 
 persisted in maintaining that Rumbold must have it, or at all events, 
 that he was chargeable with the loss, and would have the matter 
 investigated by a justice, before whom he immediately went. The 
 landlord stated the case, while Rumbold complained loudly of the 
 injury done him by the suspicion ; and from his never endeavouring 
 to run off when he was called back, and submitting so readily to 
 be searched, the justice dismissed him, and fined the landlord for 
 his rashness. 
 
 During their visit to the justice, some of Rumbold's associates 
 entered the same inn, where, according to arrangement, they found 
 the cup fixed under the table with soft wax, and made off with it 
 without the least suspicion. 
 
THOMAS RUMBOLD. IIS 
 
 The last recorded adventure of Rumbold was one which is now 
 very common in the metropolis. Having observed a countryman 
 pretty flush of money, he and his accomplices followed him; but, 
 from Hodge's attention to his pocket, they failed in several attempts 
 to pick it. Our practitioners, however, taking a convenient oppor- 
 tunity and place, one of them went before and dropped a letter, 
 while another kept close by the countryman, and, upon seeing it, 
 cried out" See, what is here?" But, although the countryman 
 stooped to take it up, our adventurer was too nimble for him ; and 
 having it in his hand, observed, " There is somewhat else here be- 
 sides a letter." — " I cry halves," said the countryman. — " Well," 
 said Rumbold, " you stooped, indeed, as well as I; but I have it. 
 However, I will be fair with you; let us see what it is, and whether 
 it is worth dividing :" and thereupon broke open the letter, in which 
 was enclosed a chain or necklace of gold. " Good fortune," said 
 Rumbold, " if this be real gold." — " How shall we know that ?" 
 replied the countryman ; " let us see what the letter says," which 
 ran as follows : — 
 
 " Brother John, 
 
 " I have here sent you back this necklace of gold you have sent 
 me, not from any dislike I have to it, but my wife is covetous, and 
 would have a bigger. This comes not to above seven pounds, and 
 she would have one of ten pounds ; therefore, pray get it changed 
 for one of that price, and send it by the bearer to your loving 
 orother, 
 
 Jacob Thornton. 
 
 " Nay, then we have good luck," observed the cheat. " But 1 
 hope," said he to the countryman, " you will not expect a full share, 
 for, you know, I found it; and, besides, if one should divide it, 
 1 know not how to break it in pieces without injuring it; therefore, 
 I had rather have my share in money." — " Well," said the coun- 
 tryman, I will give you your share in money, provided we divide 
 equally." — " That you shall," said Rumbold, and, therefore, I 
 must have three pounds ten shillings, the price in all being, as 
 you see, seven pounds." — " Ay," said the countryman, thinking 
 to be cunning with our adventurer, " it may be worth seven pounds 
 in money, fashion and all ; we must, however, not value that, but 
 only the gold ; therefore I think three pounds in money are better 
 than half the chain, and so much I'll give, if you'll let me have 
 it." — " Well, I'm contented," said Rumbold : " but then you shall 
 give me a pint of wine, over and above." To this the other agreed, 
 I 
 
,14 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 and to a tavern they went, where the bargain was ratified. There 
 Rumbold and the countryman quickly disposed of two bottles of 
 wine. In the mean time, one of Rumbold's companions entered 
 the inn, inquiring for a certain person who was not there. Rum- 
 bold informed the stranger (as he pretended to be) that he would 
 be there presently, as he had seen him in the street, and requested 
 him to come in and wait for him. Upon this the stranger sat dovsn 
 to wait the arrival of his friend. In a little time Rumbold proposed 
 to remove into a larger apartment, where they commenced playing 
 at cards, to amuse themselves until the gentleman who was expect- 
 ed should arrive. 
 
 Himself and his associate began their amusement, the country- 
 man being a stranger to the game. After he had continued a spec- 
 tator of the good fortune of our adventurer, who in general van- 
 quished the stranger, the countryman was at last prevailed upon 
 to run halves with the fortunate gamester. For a while the same 
 good fortune smiled upon them, and the stranger, in a rage at his 
 great losses, refused to proceed. But after a few bottles more were 
 emptied, the long-expected gentleman never appearing, they re- 
 newed their amusement ; and fortune deserting Rumbold and the 
 countryman who seconded him, in a short time the latter found 
 himself without a shilling. 
 
 The landlord was then called to assist in drinking the money 
 gaining, and, being informed how they had cheated the country- 
 man, was resolved to exert his ingenuity at their expence. Mean- 
 while, several associates of Rumbold, who had been respectively 
 employed in similar adventures, entered the room > joined in their 
 conversation, and participated in their wine. The landlord was at 
 last requested to bring supper, which being done immediately, they 
 commenced with great avidity, and having soon dispatched a 
 shoulder of mutton and two capons; the bottle circulated briskly, 
 until they all, under the influence of the rosy god, fell asleep with 
 the dishes before them. 
 
 The landlord embraced this favourable moment of silence to 
 collect all the bones and remnants of the whole day's provisions, 
 and divided them upon the plates which were upon the table. In 
 a short time, one of them losing his balance, embraced the floor, 
 and, by the noise of the fall, awoke the rest of the drowsy com- 
 pany, who all renewed their attacks upon the victuals. M How 
 came these bones here?" cried one of them; " I do not remember 
 that 1 ate any such victuals." — " Nor I," said another; upon 
 winch the landlord was called in and interrogated. " Why, surely, 
 
THOMAS SIMPSON. ^5 
 
 gentlemen, you have forgot yourselves," said he; " you have slept 
 sound and fair indeed ! I believe you will forget the collar of 
 brawn you had too, that cost me six shillings out of my pocket." 
 " How, biawn !" said one. — " Ay, brawn," answered the landlord; 
 " you had it, and shall pay for it : you'll remember nothing pre- 
 sently. This is a fine drunken bout, indeed!" — " So it is," said 
 one of the company; "surely, we have been in a dream: but it 
 signifies nothing, my landlord, you must and shall be paid. Give 
 us another dozen bottles, and bring us the bill, that we may pay 
 the reckoning we have run up." This order was obeyed, and a bill 
 presented, amounting to seven pounds, and every man was called 
 upon to pay his share. The countryman shrunk back, wishing to 
 escape; but one of them pulled him forward, saying, " Come, let 
 us tell noses, and every man pay alike." The countryman desired 
 . to be excused, and said his money was all exhausted ; they, there- 
 fore, agreed that he should be exempted, 
 
 In the morning, the countryman, in order to procure money to 
 carry him home, resolved to sell the chain in his possession : he 
 accordingly went to a goldsmith, but, to his additional mortifica- 
 tion, was informed that, instead of gold, it was only brass gilded 
 over. He acquainted the goldsmith with the whole matter, who 
 went along with him to a justice to obtain a warrant for the appre- 
 hension of Rumbold and his associates ; but before their arrival, 
 the worthy knights of the pistol had prudently decamped with their 
 spoils. 
 
 Rumbold after this adventure had several narrow escapes; but, 
 continuing his nefarious courses, he was at length detected, tried, 
 condemned, and executed at Tyburn in the year 1689. 
 
 THOMAS SIMPSON, 
 
 "OLD MOB." 
 
 Thomas Simpson, or, as he was usually called, u Old Mob," was 
 born at Ramsay in Hampshire, and continued to reside there as 
 his only home until he had five children and some grandchildren. 
 As we are unable to find any record of his education, which ap- 
 pears to have been greatly neglected, we shall relate his adventurea 
 upon the road in order of time. 
 
116 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 One day, near Exeter, he met with Sir Bartholomew Shower 
 whom he immediately required to deliver his money. Sir Bartho- 
 lomew obeyed. Old Mob, however, examining his prey, told him 
 that this was not sufficient to answer his present pressing necessi- 
 ties : " therefore, sir," said he, " as you are my banker in general, 
 you must instantly draw a bill upon some one in Exeter for a hun. 
 dred and fifty pounds, and remain in the next field as security f»s 
 the payment, until I have received it." The good knight wished 
 to be excused, professing that he knew no one in Exeter who would 
 pay such a sum on demand. But excuses were vain : Old Mob held 
 a pistol to his breast until he complied, and drew upon a rich gold- 
 smith. 
 
 Having received the note, he made the knight dismount, cut the 
 bridle and girths of the horse, and turned him off, while he bound 
 Sir Bartholomew hand and foot, and left him under a hedge. 
 The goldsmith knew the handwriting, and paid the money. Old 
 Mob, having received the sum, returned to the knight, saying, 
 11 Sir, I am come with a habeas corpus to remove you out of your 
 present captivity;" which he did, leaving him to walk home, a dis- 
 tance of three miles. 
 
 One day Old Mob quarrelled with a woman in the neighbourhood, 
 and, in a rage, questioned her virtue. Her husband resented 
 the affront; and commenced an action in a spiritual court against 
 Old Mob, which cost him a considerable sum. Those who have 
 enjoyed the experience well know that spiritual courts are not loss 
 litigious and expensive than civil courts. 
 
 Not long after, however, Mob met with the proctor who had 
 been the agent in the cause, and had extracted from his purse a 
 considerable sum. He instantly knew him; but, being well dis- 
 guised, Mob was not recognised by the other. He demanded his 
 purse: the lawyer began to be eloquent in framing excuses; but 
 Mob reiterated his threatenings, and the purse appeared, laden 
 with fifteen guineas. As the proctor was about to draw them from 
 thence, Mob insisted upon having the fine silk purse also. The 
 proctor told him that it was given him by a particular friend, and 
 that he promised to keep it all his life; upon which Old Mob re- 
 plied, " Suppose that you had a process against me, and were 1 to 
 come to me for your fees; if I had no money, or anything of value 
 but what was given to me by a friend, would you take it for pay- 
 ment, if I told you that I had promised to keep it as long aa I lived." 
 — " No, sir." — " Stay there; I love that people should do as they 
 would be done unto. What business had you to promise a thing 
 
THOMAS SIMPSON. 117 
 
 you were not sure of performing ? Am I to be accountable for 
 your vows ?" The poor lawyer seeing that if he insisted upon di- 
 viding the purse and the gold, his own body and soul might be se- 
 parated, presented them to Old Mob. 
 
 John Gadbury had also the misfortune to fall in with Old Mob . 
 Though this man was an astrologer, yet his knowledge of the stars 
 could not prevent his own misfortune. Poor John trembled when 
 his money was demanded, and turned as pale as death, pretending 
 that he had none. Old Mob, after bantering him, and telling him 
 he could never want money, as he had the twelve constellations 
 always rented to stationers, informed him that his pistol would have 
 his money, in spite of all the stars in the firmament. Dreading 
 that the effect of the pistol would be more violent and sudden 
 than any of the disastrous stars, he surrendered a bag containing 
 about nine pounds in gold and silver. 
 
 The next adventure of Old Mob was an attack on the stage-coach 
 from Bath, in which only one lady was passenger. After he had 
 stopped the coachman, he approached the coach, and demanded the 
 lady's money, she replied that she was a poor widow who had just 
 lost her husband, and hoped that he would have compassion upon 
 her. " And is the losing of your husband any argument why I 
 should lose my booty ? Your tears, madam, cannot move me; for 
 I remember the old proverb — ' The end of a husband is a widow's 
 tears, and the end of those tears another husband." 
 
 The disconsolate widow made strong encomiums upon the virtues 
 of her departed husband, with strong asseverations that none 
 should ever succeed him in her affections. Old Mob not believing 
 one half she said, and, unwilling to be detained from another 
 adventure, became positive with her; upon which she pulled 
 out a purse with forty guineas, and presented it to him. 
 
 Scarcely had he departed from this widow, when he met with the 
 famous Lincoln's-inn-fields mountebank, Cornelius a Tilburgh, 
 going to a stage at Wells. Mob demanded his money in a very 
 rough tone. The poor quack pretended that he himself was a son 
 of necessity. Mob told him he had more wit than to believe a 
 mountebank, whose occupation was lying; " You get your money 
 as easy as I get mine, and it is only fulfilling the proverb, ■ lightly 
 come, lightly go ;' besides doctor, the next market-day will refund 
 all; and you may excite compassion by informing them that you 
 were robbed of your all in coming to exercise your benevolence 
 towards them." 
 
 The doctor could scarce refrain from laughing at the smart stric- 
 
118 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 tures of Mob upon his profession; but unwilling to part with the 
 bird he had in hand, he began to read him a lecture on morality, 
 and to remonstrate upon the iniquity of his conduct, reminding 
 him, that the money he thus took, might be the ruin of whole fami- 
 lies, and constrain many to employ improper means to regain what 
 they had lost in this manner; " therefore," said he, " you are 
 answerable for their sin." " What," replied Old Mob, " this is 
 the devil reproving sin, with a witness ! Can I ruin more peop<£ 
 than you, dear Mr.Theophrastus Bombasustus ! you are scrupulous- 
 ly conscientious indeed, to tell me of ruining people ! I only take 
 their money, you their lives ! You with impunity, I at the risk of 
 my own ! You have made more blind than the small-pox, more 
 deaf than the cataracts of the Nile, and destroyed more than the 
 pestilence ? Unless, doctor, you have a specific against the influ- 
 ence of powder and lead, it is in vain to trifle with me ; deliver 
 your money." The quack still delaying, Old Mob seized a port- 
 manteau from his horse, and putting it on his own, took his leave. 
 Arriving at a convenient place to examine the contents, he found 
 fifty- two pounds in money, and a large golden medal, besides all 
 the doctor's instruments and implements of quackery : for the last, 
 however, Mob could find few buyers. 
 
 At another time, Old Mob met with the Duchess of Portsmouth, 
 between Newmarket and London. He stopped the coach and 
 demanded her money. Accustomed to command a monarch, she 
 could not conceive how a mean-looking fellow should talk in this 
 style. Upon this, she briskly demanded if he knew who she was ? 
 " Yes, madam, I know you to be the greatest harlot in the kingdom, 
 and maintained at the public expense ! I know that all the courtiers 
 depend upon your smiles, and that even the king is your slave ! 
 But what of all that? a gentleman collector upon the road is a 
 greater man, and more absolute than his majesty is at court. You 
 may now say, madam, that a single highwayman has exercised his 
 authority where Charles II. of England has often begged a favour." 
 
 Her grace continued to gaze at him with a lofty air, and told him 
 that he was a very insolent fellow ; that she would give him nothing ; 
 and that he should certainly suffer for his insolence; adding, " :^iuh 
 me if you dare!" " Madam," answered Mob, u that haughty 
 French spirit will do you no good here : I am an English freebooter, 
 and I insist upon it, as my native right, to seize all foreign com- 
 modities. Your money is indeed English, but it is forfeited, as 
 being the fruit of English folly. All you have is confiscated, as 
 being bestowed upon one so worthless. I am king here, madam ! 
 
THOMAS SIMPSON. 119 
 
 I nave use A' money as well as he ! The public pay for his follies, 
 and so they must for mine !" Mob immediately attacked her, but 
 she cried for quarter, and delivered him two hundred pounds, a very 
 rich necklace which her late paramour had given her, a gold watch, 
 and two diamond rings. 
 
 Abingdon market was in general well stored with corn, and Old 
 Mob being one day there, fell into conversation with a forestaller 
 of grain. Being in possession of a considerable sum of money, he 
 contrived a plan to have a share of the profits acquired by that 
 extensive dealer. He pretended to have come from London to 
 purchase corn; and desiring a sample, seemed satisfied with the 
 quality, and demanded the price. Old Mob instantly made a pur- 
 chase, paid the money, and sent the corn to a place where he sold 
 it for his own money. Careful to ascertain the time when the corn- 
 dealer was to leave town, and the road he was to take, he was 
 scarcely two miles from the place when Mob approached him, put 
 a pistol to his breast, demanded the money which he had lent him, 
 and whatever more he had about him, as interest for the loan. The 
 countryman was not a little surprised to hear such language from 
 his late companion, and asked him if it was just to take away both 
 goods and money. " Justice !" exclaimed Old Mob, " how have 
 you the impudence to talk of justice, who rob the poor of their food, 
 and rejoice at the misery of your fellow creatures, because you 
 acquire your wealth upon the ruins of your nation ? Can any man 
 in the world be more unjust than an engrosser of corn, who buys 
 up the produce of the country, and pretends a scarcity in times of 
 plenty, only to increase his own substance, and leaves behind him 
 ibundance of ill-gotten wealth ? Such vermin as you are unfit to 
 live upon the earth! Talk no more of justice to me; deliver up 
 your money, or I shall do the world so much justice as to send you 
 out of it !" The countryman hereupon found it necessary to deli- 
 ver up the large sum of money which he had about him; and Old 
 Mob rode home highly gratified with his exploit. 
 
 Sir John Jefferies was the next to supply the wants of our ad- 
 venturer, who first disabled two servants, and then advancing to 
 the coach, demanded his lordship's money. Jefferies, by his cruel- 
 ties exhibited in the western assizes, had rendered himself suffici- 
 ently infamous, and supposing that his name would carry terror, 
 he informed Old Mob of the quality of the person whom he had 
 accosted in so rude a manner. " I am happy," said he, u in hav- 
 ing an opportunity of being revenged on you, for lately putting me 
 in iear ot my life. I might," added he, " deliver you over to trial 
 
120 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 for putting me in dread of death ; but shall compound the matter 
 with the money you have in your coach. 
 
 The judge began to expostulate with him upon the danger 10 
 which he exposed both soul and body by such crimes, reminding 
 him, that if he believed there was a Providence which governed 
 the world, he might expect to meet with justice as the reward of 
 his iniquities. " When justice has overtaken us both," said Old 
 Mob, " I hope to stand as good a chance as your lordship, who* 
 have written your name in indelible characters of blood, and 
 deprived many thousands of their lives for no other reason than 
 their appearance in defence of their just rights and liberties, it 
 is enough for you to preach morality upon the bench, when no per- 
 son can venture to contradict you ; but your lessons can have no 
 effect upon me. I know you well enough to perceive that, they are 
 only lavished upon me to save your ill-gotten wealth." Then thun- 
 dering forth a volley of oaths, and presenting a pistol to his breast, 
 he threatened the judge with instant death, unless he surrendered 
 his cash. Perceiving that his authority was of no consequence to 
 him upon the road, Jefferies delivered his money, amounting to 
 fifty-six guineas. 
 
 The only person with whom Old Mob ever acted in concert, was 
 the Golden Farmer. Two of their adventures may be selected. 
 Having rendered themselves conspicuous upon the highway, anu, 
 by their frequent depredations, exposed themselves to the danger 
 of detection, they resolved to repose themselves in the capital, and 
 to employ their ingenuity, as they had now no occasion to exercise 
 their strength. Their first object was to learn the manners and 
 habits of the citizens, in order to impose upon them in their own 
 way. Those who are acquainted with London, know that all is 
 hurry and bustle ; and that if a man dresses well, and for a while 
 makes regular payments, he may obtain credit to a great amount. 
 Even so it was at the period in which our adventurers flourished. 
 They accordingly commenced ostensibly as merchants. They took 
 a large handsome house, hired several servants, and commenced 
 business upon a large scale. The Golden Fanner selected that of 
 a chandler, he being in some measure acquainted with that line of 
 business. Old Mob took up his residence near the Tower, and 
 commenced Dutch trader; for having been in that country when a 
 boy, he hadjearneda little of the language, and knew the com- 
 modities that were usually exported from that quarter. These two 
 pas ed for near relations, of the name of Bryan, and said that they 
 were nortn-country men. 
 
THOMAS SIMPSON. 121 
 
 With singular activity they inquired after goods in their respective 
 circles, purchased all that came in their way, either paying ready 
 money, or drawing notes upon each other for one or two days, 
 which were always regularly honoured. They disposed of their goods 
 at the lowest prices, and thus kept a constant tide of ready money; 
 and their customers being perfectly satisfied, their characters were 
 completely established. 
 
 Perceiving their plan ripe for execution, they ordered an im- 
 mense quantity of goods upon a certain day, drew upon each other 
 for the payment, immediately sold the goods at reduced prices to 
 their usual purchasers, under the pretence that they had a large 
 sum of money to make up, and the next day left town with the sum 
 of 1630£. the produce of three months' business. The reader may 
 easily conceive what were the feelings and chagrin of the different 
 merchants, when on the day of payment, it was discovered, that 
 the two extensive dealers and punctual payers had both disappeared. 
 
 For some time Old Mob and the Golden Farmer had recourse to 
 their former employment upon the highway, until new dangers 
 constrained them to think of another dexterous adventure by which 
 to recruit their stores. There were two wealthy jewellers, brothers, 
 the one living in London, and the other in Bristol. Old Mob and 
 the Golden Farmer were minutely acquainted with the history of 
 both brothers. These deceitful rogues knew that the jewellers 
 were weak and sickly, which would obtain easy credit to a report 
 of their death. Under this conviction they formed their plau, and 
 wrote the following letter to each brother, only varying the name 
 and place, according to circumstances : 
 
 "Dear Brother, March26 } 3686. 
 
 " This comes to bring you the sorrowful news, that you have lost 
 the best of brothers, and 1 the kindest of husbands, at a time when 
 we were in hopes of his growing better as the spring advanced, and 
 continuing with us at least one summer longer. He died this morn- 
 ing about eleven o'clock, after he had kept his bed only three days. 
 
 " I send so hastily to you, that you may be here before we prepare 
 for the funeral, which was the desire of my dear husband, who 
 informed me that he had made you joint-executor with me. The 
 will is in my hands, and I shall defer opening it until you arrive 
 here. I am too full of grief to add any more ; the messenger, who 
 is a very honest man, and a neighbour of mine, will inform you 
 of such particulars as are needful. From your sorrowful sister. 
 
 " M. Seals." 
 
122 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 " P, S.— I employed a friend to write for me, which I desire you 
 to excuse, for I was not able to do it myself, nor, indeed, to dictate 
 any more." 
 
 These letters being sealed and directed, the one of our adven- 
 turers set off for London, and the other for Bristol, regulating 
 matters so as to be at their journey's end at the same time. Being 
 arrived, they delivered their credentials, were cordially receiv^l, 
 and hospitably entertained. Many tears were shed upon the open- 
 ing of letters containing such information, while secret joy arose 
 in each mind, upon the anticipated accession of wealth that would 
 accrue, from the death of a brother. These two brothers perhaps 
 indulged common affection for each other, but self-interest rises 
 superior to every other species of affection. 
 
 The evening at the respective places was spent in relating various 
 incidents of the family history, together with the narration of what 
 the departed brother said in his last moments. Next morning each 
 of the villains was dispatched to inform the sisters-in-law, that, as 
 soon as mourning was got ready, they would hasten to perform their 
 last sorrowful duties. Old Mob went to Bristol, the Golden Farmer 
 to London. The first, in the evening secured jewels to the value 
 of two hundred pounds. The second having taken his aim better. 
 brought away jewels and other goods to a much greater amount. 
 
 In the morning, both set out from their respective places, and 
 met at a spot previously determined. Meanwhile, the brother* 
 were both hastening to set out upon their journey. In the family 
 hurry of both, the shops were neglected, so that the robbers were 
 not discovered. The brothers happened to take up their lodgings 
 at the same inn at Newbury. He from London came in first, ami 
 went to bed before the other arrived. The Bristol brother, along 
 with a companion who accompanied him, passed through the cham- 
 ber of his relative, and slept in an adjoining room. It happened 
 that their conversation disturbed the repose of the London brother, 
 who recognised the voice of the dead relative whom he was going 
 to inter. In a short time, the latter was under the necessity of 
 passing through the room of his brother, who, by the moonlight, 
 was more fully convinced that he had not been deceived in the voice. 
 Upon this he cried out; the other brother was equally astonished, 
 and ran back to his room overpowered with fear. They continued 
 both of them sweating and trembling with dread until day-break, 
 when dressing themselves in their morning apparel, they mutually 
 shunned each other, until they attracted the notice of the people o 
 
JOHN BIRD. 123 
 
 the house. They were at la3t with difficulty brought together, and 
 detected the imposition, but remained ignorant of the cause. After 
 spending two days at the inn, they returned home, and the plot 
 was disiovered. 
 
 Old Mob was at last apprehended in Tothill Street, Westminster, 
 presented with thirty-six indictments, of which thirty-two were 
 proved, and was executed at Tyburn on the 30th of May, 1690. 
 
 JOHN BIRD 
 
 Was born of industrious and honest parents, and received an 
 education suitable to their circumstances. He was bound an ap- 
 prentice to a baker, served three years, then ran away from his 
 master, went to London, and enlisted in the Foot Guards. While 
 in the army, he served at the memorable siege of Maestricht, under 
 the command of the Duke of Monmouth, the general of the English 
 forces in the Low Countries. 
 
 His natural avarice and restless disposition excited him to desert 
 his colours, and, flying to Amsterdam, he began his career by 
 stealing a piece of silk, but being detected in the act, was carried 
 before a magistrate. The evidence against him being unquestion- 
 able, he was committed to the Rasp-house, and doomed to hard 
 labour, such as rasping log-wood, and other drudgeries, during 
 the space of twelve months. Unaccustomed to hard labour, Jack 
 fainted under the punishment, but to no purpose, as his taskmaster 
 imputed it to indolence. To cure this distemper, he chained him 
 to the bottom of a cistern by one foot, and several cocks at once 
 beginning to pour in their streams upon him, he was obliged to 
 pump for his life. The cistern was much higher than he, so that 
 if the water had not been quickly discharged, he would have been 
 drowned, without either relief or pity. This discipline being limited 
 to the space of one hour, Jack vanquished the various floods which 
 threatened to overwhelm him, and was accordingly relieved. The 
 experience, however, of that hour rendered his labour sweet during 
 the remainder of the year. 
 
 Upon the expiration of that period, he took leave of a country 
 where he had been so speedily detected and so severely punished, 
 and returned to England to prosecute his adventures upon the 
 highway. Disdaining the mean employment of a footpad, he stole 
 
xti ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 a horse, provided himself with six good pistols and a broad sword, 
 and, in the dress of a gentleman, commenced his campaign. In 
 three or four robberies fortune was auspicious, and seemed to offer 
 a plentiful harvest to gratify his avarice, and to nourish his extra 
 vagance ; but like many before him, he soon experienced her fluc- 
 tuating disposition. On the road between Gravesend and Chatham, 
 Bird met with one Jose? h Pinnis, a Pilot at Dover, who had been 
 to London receiving 101. or 12/. for conducting a Dutch ship uji 
 the river. He had lost both his hands in an engagement, so that 
 when Bird accosted him in the common language of his profession, 
 the old tar replied, " You see, sir, that 1 have never a hand, so 
 that I am not able to take my money out of my pocket myself. Be 
 so kind, therefore, as to take the trouble of searching me." Jack 
 complied with his reasonable demand, and began to examine the 
 contents of the pilot's purse. Meanwhile the furious tar suddenly 
 clasped his arms about Jack, and, spurring his own horse, drew 
 our adventurer off his, then falling directly upon him, he kept him 
 down, beating him most unmercifully with his shod stumps. During 
 the scuffle, some passengers approached, and, enquiring the cause, 
 Pinnis related the particulars, and requested them to supply his 
 place, and give the ruffian a little more of the same oil to his bones, 
 adding, that he was almost out of breath with what he had done 
 already. The passengers immediately apprehended him, and carri- 
 ed him before a magistrate, who committed him to Maidstone gaol, 
 where he continued until the assizes, and then was tried and 
 condemned. 
 
 He, however, had the good fortune to obtain a pardon, and after- 
 wards his liberty. The affront of being so completely buffeted by 
 a man without hands, made such an impression upon Bird's mind, 
 that he resolved to abandon an employment which had been so 
 dangerous and so disgraceful to him. But the want of an occupa- 
 tion by which to supply his necessities, again compelled him to the 
 highway. 
 
 The first that he encountered was a Welsh drover. The fellow, 
 being equal in strength and courage to the pilot, began to lay 
 about him with a large quarter- staff. Jack, perceiving the bold- 
 ness of the Welshman, lied out of the reach of his staff, and said, 
 "1 have been taken in once by a villain of a tar without hands, and 
 for that trick, 1 shall not venture my carcase within the roach of 
 one that has hands, for fear of something worse." Meanwhile, he 
 pulled out a pistol, and shot him through the head. In examining 
 his pur je, he found only eighteen pence. Jack, with laconic in- 
 
JOHN BIRD. XZb 
 
 difference observed, " This is a price worth killing a man for at 
 any time, and rode off without the least remorse." 
 
 At another time, Bird met with Poor Robin, the almanack 
 maker; and, as he exacted contributions from the poor when the 
 rich were not at hand, the astrologer was commanded to halt and 
 surrender. As this was the first time that Robin had heard such 
 language, and he had received no intelligence of the arrival of 
 Bird from the stars, he stood and stared as if he had been planet- 
 struck. Finding that Bird was in earnest, Robin pleaded his pov- 
 erty. " That,'* said Jack, " is a common, thread-bare excuse, 
 and will not save your bacon." " But," said the star-gazer, " my 
 name is poor Robin ; I am the author of those almanacks that 
 come out yearly in my name, and I have canonized a great many 
 gentlemen of your profession • look in my calendar for their names, 
 and let this be my protection." But all in vain ; Bird ransacked 
 his pockets, and from thence extracted the large sum of fifteen 
 shillings, took a new hat from his head, and requested him, since 
 he had now given him cause, to canonize him likewise, which 
 Robin engaged to do as soon as he had suffered martyrdom at 
 Tyburn. 
 
 Emboldened by success, Jack procured a good horse, and re- 
 solved to perform something worthy of the honour that awaited 
 him ; and fortune soon presented a favourable opportunity. The 
 Earl of Dorset and his chaplain were riding along in a coach, at- 
 tended by two servants. Bird advanced; " Stand and deliver!" 
 was his laconic address. His lordship informed him that he was 
 very little anxious about the small sum he had upon him ; " But 
 then," said he, " I hop« that you will fight for it." Jack then 
 pulled out a brace of pistols, and let fly a volley of imprecations. 
 " Don't put yourself into any passion, my friend," said the Earl, 
 u but lay down your pistols, and I will beat you fairly for all the 
 money I have, against nothing." " That's an honourable chal- 
 lenge, my Lord," exclaimed Jack, " provided that none of your 
 servants be near us." His Lordship then commanded them to keep 
 at a distance. The chaplain, however, could not endure the thought 
 of the Earl fighting while he was an idle spectator, and requested 
 the honour of espousing his master's cause. Matters were arrang- 
 ed : the divine in a minute went to blows with Jack; but the latter, 
 who once had the misfortune to be deprived of his liberty, and ex- 
 posed to the danger of his neck, by an old tar without hands, was 
 now determined to retrieve his lost honour; and in less than a 
 quarter of an hour, he beat the chaplain in such a manner, that he 
 
iW ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 had only breath remaining to utter the words, " I'll fight no more.' : 
 Emboldened by victory, Jack said to his Lordship, " that now, if he 
 pleased he would take a turn with him." " By no means," cried 
 the Earl, " for if you beat my chaplain, you will beat me, he and 
 1 having tried our manhood before." Then giving our hero a re- 
 ward of twenty guineas, he rode off with his vanquished chaplain, 
 well pleased that he had not put his own bones in jeopardy. 
 
 Continuing his wicked courses, Bird one day, in company witK 
 a woman, with whom he lived, knocked down and robbed a man 
 between Drury-lane and the Strand. Bird escaped, but the wo- 
 man was seized, and committed to Newgate. He visited her in 
 prison, in the hope of accommodating matters with the prosecutor, 
 but was seized upon suspicion of being an accomplice, and tried 
 for the crime. Upon his trial he confessed the fact; the woman 
 was liberated, and he suffered the just punishment of his deeds on 
 the 12th of March, 1690, being at that time forty-two years of age. 
 
 THOMAS COX. 
 
 Thomas Cox was the youngest son of a gentleman of Blandford in 
 Dorset, at which place he was born. His father left him a com- 
 fortable patrimony, which he soon consumed in riotous living. 
 Upon the decay of his fortune, he came up to London, where he 
 fell in with a gang of highwaymen, and easily complied with their 
 measures, in order to support himself in his dissolute course of life. 
 He was three times tried for his life, before the last fatal trial, and 
 had, after all these imputations, a prospect once more of making 
 himself a gentleman, so indulgent was Providence to him. A 
 young lady fell in love with him atWorcester, he being a very hand- 
 some man ; and she went so far as to communicate her passion, aiul 
 almost make him a direct offer of herself and 1500/. Cox married 
 her; but, instead of settling himself in the world, and improving 
 her fortune, he spent it all in less than two years, broke the poof 
 young lady's heart by his ill usage, and then took to his old courses 
 again. 
 
 The robberies he committed after this were almost innumerable : 
 we shall briefly mention a few, without dwelling on particulars that 
 are not material. One day he met with Killigrew, who had been 
 jester t© King Charles II., and ordered him to deliver. u Are 
 
THOMAS COX. 127 
 
 you in earnest, friend? " said the buffoon. Tom replied, " Yes, by 
 G — d am I ! for though you live by jesting, I can't." Killigrew 
 found he spoke truth ; for, well as he loved jesting, he could not 
 conceive that to be a jest which cost him twenty-five guineas ; for 
 so much Tom took from him. 
 
 Another time he robbed Mr. Hitchcock, an attorney of New Inn, 
 of three hundred and fifty guineas, on the road between Midhurst 
 and Tetworth, in the county of Sussex, giving him in return a 
 lesson on the corruption of his practice, and throwing him a single 
 guinea to bear his charges. Mr. Hitchcock was a little surprised 
 at the highwayman's generosity, but more at his morality, imagin- 
 ing the world must needs be near its end when the devil undertook 
 to reform it. 
 
 Tom Cox was as great a libertine in his sentiments as he was in 
 his practice ; for he professed a belief that the summum bonum 
 of a man consisted in sensual pleasures, as Epicurus is said to 
 have thought formerly, whose disciple he called himself. It is a 
 common thing to call persons Epicureans who fall into these 
 notions : and we do not know whether, in a work of this nature, 
 it may be worth while to prove that the word is falsely applied, 
 since the idea is all that we are to regard. Let Epicurean signify 
 what it will, they are no followers of Epicurus who are not lovers 
 of virtue, and who do not place their supreme happiness in the 
 most exalted pleasures of the mind, as that great philosopher 
 certainly did. 
 
 Our offender was at last apprehended for a robbery on the highway, 
 committed near Chard, in Somersetshire ; but he had not been long 
 confined in Illchester goal before he found an opportunity of escap- 
 ing. He broke out of his ward into the keeper's apartment, who, 
 as good luck would have it, had been drunk over-night, and was 
 now in a profound sleep. It was a moonlight night, and Cox could 
 see a silver tankard on the table in the room, which he secured, 
 and then with quickness let himself out into the street, by the help 
 of the keys, leaving the doors all unlocked as he passed. The 
 tankard he had stolen was worth 101. ; besides which, he got into 
 a stable hard by, and took a good horse, with proper furniture to 
 carry him off. 
 
 It is reported of Cox, that he more than once robbed persons 
 of his own trade, and that he sometimes robbed in company. One 
 time in particular, he had accomplices, and had formed a project 
 for robbing a nobleman, well attended, who was travelling the 
 kingdom. Tom associated himself with this nobleman on the road, 
 and talked to him, as they passed along, of the adventures lie had 
 
128 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 met with in such an agreeable manner, as ingratiated him very much 
 in his companion's esteem. They had not ridden many miles toge- 
 ther, before two of Tom's companions came up, and bade them stand, 
 but immediately fled upon Tom's pulling out a pistol, and making 
 a seeming bluster. The nobleman attributed his delivery to the 
 generosity and bravery of his new companion, putting still more 
 confidence in him, and desiring his company as long as possible. 
 They were to stay a whole day at the next great town, in orderVo 
 take a ride round the country, and see what was to be seen, accord- 
 ing to the custom which this noble friend of Tom's had practised 
 all the way. In the morning, the saddle horses were got ready, 
 and our two fellow travellers set out for the tour of the day, the 
 person of quality refusing to take a footman with him, as usual, 
 that he might the more freely converse with his new acquaintance. 
 
 We shall not trouble our reader with what they saw on the way, 
 and how much they were pleased, because that is little to our story. 
 About noon they came to a convenient place, when Cox suddenly 
 threw off the mask, and commanded his companion to deliver his 
 money. " Why, ay," said the nobleman, " such a thing might 
 be done here, for it's a devilish lonesome country : but I can fear 
 no danger while you are with me, — you, whose courage I have so 
 lately experienced." " Such a thing might be done ?" replied Cox : 
 11 Why, in the name of Satan, 1 hope you don't think I have kept 
 your company all this time to play with you at last ? If you do, 
 sir, let me tell you, you are mistaken." Upon which, he pulled 
 out a pistol, and presented it to his breast, swearing and cursing 
 like a madman, till he had given sufficient proof that he was in 
 earnest. Filled with astonishment and confusion, our nobleman 
 delivered a diamond ring, a gold watch, and near a hundred guineas 
 in money, staring all the while in Tom's face with much gravity. 
 To prevent a sudden pursuit, Tom then dismounted his companion, 
 bound him hand and foot, and killed his horse, according to the 
 custom of experienced highwaymen, taking his leave with a sneer, 
 and " Good bye, fellow-traveller, till I meet you again. ' 
 
 After this, he committed two other robberies that were known. 
 One of them was on a grazier, who had been at Smithfield, and 
 received about 300/. for cattle, a great part of which was in silver, 
 and consequently, was sufficiently bulky. When he had got the 
 money, he fell to caning the poor sufferer in an unmciciful manner, 
 who desired to know the reason of such usage after he had taken 
 all. " Sirrah," said Tom, " 'tis for loading my horse at (his rate; 
 that you may remember another time to got your money changed 
 
COLONEL JACK. 129 
 
 into gold before you come out of town, — for who the plague must 
 be your porter 1" We may reasonably suppose the grazier chose 
 rather to pay for the return of his money for the future, than carry 
 so much about him. 
 
 Tom's last robbery was on a farmer, from whom he took about 
 201. It was not above a week after the fact, before the farmer had 
 occasion to proceed to London about business, and saw Tom coming 
 out of his lodgings in Essex-street, in the Strand, when, upon 
 crying out " Stop thief!" he was immediately apprehended in St. 
 Clement's Church-yard, and committed by a neighbouring magis- 
 trate to Newgate, where he lived till the sessions in an extravagant 
 manner, being very full of money. Receiving sentence of death 
 on the farmer's deposition at Justice Hall, on Wednesday the 
 3rd of June, 1691, he was hanged at Tyburn, in the twenty-sixth 
 year of his age. He was so resolute to the last, that when Mr. 
 Smith, the Ordinary, asked him a few moments before he was turn- 
 off, whether he would join with his fellow-sufferers in prayer? 
 " D— n you — no!" said he, and kicked both ordinary and execu- 
 tioner out of the cart. 
 
 COLONEL JACK. 
 
 The account of the life of Colonel Jack, written by himself, 
 naturally excites reflections upon the blessings of education, and 
 the misery and ruin of thousands of the poorer orders who have 
 been unfortunately deprived of it. 
 
 It cannot, we think, but be apparent, in the autobiography of 
 Colonel Jack, that the writer, although circumstances and the want 
 of education we have been lamenting, caused him to become a thief, 
 was naturally disposed, and had a yearning towards virtue. A 
 certain rectitude of principle, strangely at variance with his call- 
 ing, remained with him constantly, causing him to abhor the worst 
 parts of his trade, and at last to leave it off altogether. 
 
 We have chosen to give the ensuing narrative almost without the 
 alteration of a word; the spirit of the story must inevitably evapo- 
 rate during a process of transfusion. 
 
 " Seeing that my life has been such a chequer-work of Nature, 
 and that I am able now to look back upon it from a safer distance 
 than is ordinary to the fate of the clan to which I once belonged, 1 
 K 
 
130 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 think my history may find a place in the world, as well as that of 
 some, which I see, are every day read with pleasure, though they 
 have in them nothing so diverting or instructing as I believe mine 
 will appear to be. 
 
 " My origin may be as high as any body's, for aught I know; 
 for my mother kept very good company: — but that part belongs to 
 her story more than to mine. All I know of it is by oral tradition, 
 thus : — my nurse told me my mother was a gentlewoman, that my 
 father was a man of quality, and that she (my nurse) had a good 
 piece of money given her to take me off his hands, and deliver him 
 and my mother from the importunities that usually attend the mis- 
 fortune of having a child to keep that should not be seen or heard of. 
 " My father, it seems, gave my nurse something more than was 
 agreed for, at my mother's request, upon her solemn promise, that 
 she would use me well, and let me be put to school; and he charged 
 her, that if I lived to come to any bigness, capable to understand 
 the meaning of it, she should always take care to bid me remember 
 that I was a gentleman ; and this, he said, was all the education 
 he would desire of her for me ; for he did not doubt but that some 
 time or other, the very hint would inspire me with thoughts suitable 
 to my birth; and that I would certainly act like a gentleman, if I 
 believed myself to be so. 
 
 " My nurse was as honest to the engagement she had entered 
 into as could be expected from one of her employment, and par- 
 ticularly as honest as her circumstances would give her leave to be ; 
 for she bred me up very carefully with her own son, and with 
 another son of shame, like me, whom she had taken upon the 
 game terms. 
 
 " My name was John, as she told me ; but neither she nor I knew 
 any thing of a sirname that belonged to me ; so that I was left to 
 call myself Mr. Anything that I pleased, as fortune and better 
 circumstances should give occasion. It happened that her own son, 
 (for she had a little boy about one year older than I,) was called 
 John too ; and about two years after, she took another son of shame, 
 as I called it above, to keep as she did me, and his name was John 
 too. But my nurse, who may be allowed to distinguish her own 
 son a little from the rest, would have him called captain, because, 
 forsooth, he was the eldest. 
 
 " I was provoked at having this boy called captaiu, and cried, 
 and told my nurse I would be called captain, for she told me I 
 was a gentleman, and 1 would be a captain, that I would. The 
 good woman, to keep the peace, told me, ' Ay, ay, I wa* fi uentlo 
 
COLONEL JACK. 131 
 
 man, and therefore I should be above a captain, for I should be a 
 colonel, and that was a great deal better than a captain.' Well, 
 I was hushed indeed with this for the present, but not thoroughly 
 pleased, till, a little while after, 1 heard her tell her own boy, that 
 1 was a gentleman, and therefore he must call me colonel ; at which 
 her boy fell a-crying, and said he would be called colonel too ; so 
 then 1 was satisfied that it was above a captain. So universally is 
 ambition seated in the minds of men, that not a beggar-boy but has 
 his share of it. Before I tell you much more of our story, it would 
 be very proper to give something of our several characters, as I 
 have gathered them up in my memory, as far back as I can recover 
 things either of myself, or my brother Jacks; and they shall be 
 brief and impartial. 
 
 " Captain Jack, the eldest of us all by a whole year, was a squat 
 big, strong-made boy, and promised to be stout when grown up to 
 be a man, but not tall. He was an original rogue ; for he would 
 do the foulest and most villainous things even by his own inclina- 
 tion ; he had no taste or sense of being honest, no not even to his 
 brother rogues, which is what other thieves made a point of honour 
 of, — I mean that of being honest to one another. 
 
 " Major Jack was a merry, facetious, pleasant boy, and had 
 something of a gentleman in him. He had a true manly courage, 
 feared nothing, and yet, if he had the advantage, was the most 
 compassionate creature alive, and wanted nothing but honesty to 
 make him an excellent man. He had learnt to write and read very 
 well, as will be found in the process of this story. 
 
 " As to myself, I passed among my comrades for a bold resolute 
 boy ; but I had a different opinion of myself; and therefore shun- 
 ed fighting as much as I could. I was wary and dexterous at my 
 trade, and was not so often caught as my fellow-rogues ; I mean 
 while I was a boy, and never after I came to be a man, no, not 
 once for twenty-six years, being so old in the trade, and still un- 
 hanged. 
 
 " I was almost ten years old, the captain eleven, and the major 
 eight, when our good old nurse died; her husband was drowned a 
 little before in the Gloucester frigate, which was cast away going 
 to Scotland with the Duke of York, in the reign of King Charles 
 II. and the honest woman dying very poor, the parish was obliged 
 to bury her. The good woman being dead, we were turned loose 
 to the world, — rambling about all three together, and the people 
 in Rosemary-lane and Ratcliffe knowing us pretty well, we got 
 victuals easy enough ; as for lodging, we lay in the summer-time 
 
^2 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 on bulk-heads and at shop-doors; as for bed, we knew nothing 
 that belonged to it for many years after my nurse died; but in 
 winter got into the ash-holes, and annealing-arches in the glass- 
 houses, where we were accompanied by several youngsters like 
 ourselves ; some of whom persuaded the captain to go a kidnapping 
 with them, a trade at that time much followed ; the gang used to 
 catch children in the evening, stop their mouths, and carry theqa 
 to such houses, were they had rogues ready to receive them, who 
 put them on board ships bound to Virginia, and when they arrived 
 there, they were sold. This wicked gang were at last taken, and 
 sent to Newgate ; and Captain Jack, among the rest, though he 
 was not then much above thirteen years old, and being but a lad, 
 was ordered to be three times whipped at Bridewell, the Recorder 
 telling him it was done in order to keep him from the gallows. 
 We did what we could to comfort him ; but he was scourged so se- 
 verely, that he lay sick for a good while ; but as soon as he regained 
 his liberty, he went to his old gang, and kept among them as long 
 as that trade lasted, for it ceased a few years afterwards. 
 
 " The major and I, though very young, had sensible impressions 
 made on us for some time by the severe usage of the captain ; but 
 it was within the year, that the major, a good conditioned easy 
 body, was wheedled away by a couple of young rogues to take a 
 walk with them The gentlemen were very well matched, for the 
 oldest of them was not above fourteen ; the business was to go to 
 Bartholomew-fair, and the end of going there was to pick pockets. 
 
 " The major knew nothing of the trade, and therefore was to do 
 nothing ; but they promised him a share with them for all that, as 
 if he had been as expert as themselves ; so away they went. The 
 two dexterous rogues managed it so well, that by about eight o'clock 
 at night, they came back to our dusty quarters at the glass-house, 
 and sitting them down in a corner, they began to share their spoil 
 by the light of the glass house fire. The major lugged out the 
 goods, for as fast as they made any purchase, they unloaded them- 
 selves, and gave all to him, that if they had been taken, nothing 
 might be found about them. It was a lucky day for them ; the 
 devil certainly assisting them to find their prey, that he might 
 draw in a young gamester, and encourage him to the undertaking, 
 who had been made backward before by the misfortune of the cap- 
 tain. 
 
 " For such a cargo to be brought home clear in one afternoon, 
 or evening rather, and by only two little rogues so young, was, it 
 must be confessed, extraordinary ; and the major was elevated the 
 
COLONEL JACK, 13? 
 
 next day to a strange degree ; for he came to me very early, ari4 
 called me out into a narrow lane, and showed me his little hand 
 almost full of money. I was surprised at the sight, when he put it 
 up again, and bringing his hand out, " Here," said he, " you 
 shall have some of it," and gave me a sixpence and a shilling's 
 worth of the small silver pieces. This was very welcome to me, 
 who never had a shilling of money together in all my life, that I 
 could call my own. I was very earnest to know how he came by 
 this wealth ; he quickly told me the story ; and that he had for his 
 share seven shillings and sixpence in money, a silver-thimble, 
 and a silk handkerchief. 
 
 " We went to Rag-Fair, and bought each of us a pair of shoes 
 and stockings, and afterwards went to a boiling cook's in Rose- 
 mary-lane, where we treated ourselves nobly ; for we had boiled 
 beef, pudding, a penny-loaf, and a pint of strong beer, which 
 cost us sevenpence in all. That night the major triumphed in our 
 new enjoyment, and slept in the usual place, with an undisturbed 
 repose. The next day the major and his comrades went abroad 
 again, and were still successful, nor did any disaster attend them 
 for many months ; and by frequent imitation and direction, Major 
 Jack became as dexterous a pickpocket as any of them, and went 
 through a long variety of fortune, too long to enter upon now, be- 
 cause 1 am hastening to my own story, which at present is the 
 main thing I have to set down. 
 
 "Overcome by the persuasions of the major, I entered myself 
 
 into his society, and went down to Billingsgate with one of them, 
 
 which was crowded with masters of coal-ships, fishmongers, and 
 
 oyster-women. It was the first of these people my comrade had 
 
 his eye upon : so he gave me my orders, which were thus : * Go 
 
 you,' said he, ' into all the ale-houses as we go along, and observe 
 
 where any people are telling money, and when you find any, come 
 
 and tell me.* So he stood at the door and I went into the houses, 
 
 As the collier-masters generally sell their coals at the Gate, as the} 
 
 (Call it, so they generally receive their money in those ale-houses, 
 
 and it was not long before I brought him word of several. Upon 
 
 this, he went in and made his observations, but found nothing to 
 
 his purpose. At length, 1 brought word that there w T as a man in 
 
 such a house, who had received a great deal of money of somebody, 
 
 or, I believed, of several people ; and that it lay all upon the 
 
 table in heaps, and he was very busy writing down the sums, and 
 
 putting it up in several bags. ' Is he ?' said he ; ' I'll warrant 
 
 him, I will have some of it ;' and in he went, walked up and down 
 
134 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 the house, which had several open tables and boxes in it, and lis- 
 tened to hear if he could learn what the man's name was, and he 
 heard somebody call him Cullum, or some such name ; then he 
 watched his opportunity, and stepped up to him, and told him a 
 long story, ' That there were two gentlemen at the Gun-tavern 
 sent him to enquire for him, and to tell him, they desired to speak 
 with him.' 
 
 " The collier-master had got his money before him just as I had 
 told him, and had two or three small payments of money, which 
 he had put up in little black dirty bags, and laid by themselves; 
 as it was hardly broad day, the major found means, in delivering 
 his message, to lay his hand upon one of those bags, and carry it 
 off perfectly undiscovered. When he had got it, he came out to 
 me, who stood at the door, and pulling me by the sleeve, ' Run, 
 Jack,' said he, ' for our lives ;' and away he scoured, and I after 
 him, never resting, or scarce looking about me, till we got quite 
 into Moorfields. But not thinking ourselves safe there, we ran on 
 till we got into the fields, and finding a by-place, we sat down, and 
 he pulled out the bag. ' Thou art a lucky boy, Jack,' said he, 
 1 thou deservest a good share of this job, truly; for 'tis all along 
 of thy lucky news.' So he poured it all out into my hat. 
 
 " How he managed to take such a bag from any man who was 
 awake and in his senses, I cannot tell. There were about seventeen 
 or eighteen pounds in the bag, and he parted the money, giving 
 me one-third, with which I was very well contented. As we were 
 now so rich, he would not let me lie any longer about the glass- 
 house, or go naked and ragged as I had done ; but obliged me to 
 buy two shirts, a waistcoat, and a great coat; for a great coat was 
 more proper for our business than any other. So I clothed myself, 
 as he directed, and we lodged together in a little garret. 
 
 " Soon after this, we walked out again, and then tried our fortune 
 in the places by the Exchange a second time. Here we beo-an to 
 act separately, and I undertook to walk by myself; and the first 
 thing 1 did accurately, was a trick I played that argued some skill 
 for a new beginner ; for I had never seen any business of that kind 
 done before. I saw two gentlemen mighty eager in talk, and one 
 pulled out a pocket-book two or three times, and then slipped it 
 into his coat-pocket again, and then out it came again, and papers 
 were taken out, and others put in, and then in it went again ; and 
 so several times, the man being still warmly engaged with another 
 man, and two or three others standing hard by them the last time 
 he put his pocket-book into his pocket with his hand, when the 
 
COLOrnJEL JACK. 13* 
 
 book lay endway, resting upon some other book, or something else 
 in his pocket, so that it did not go quite down, but one corner of 
 it was seen above his pocket. Having seen the book thus pass and 
 repass, I brushed smoothly, but closely, by the man, and took it 
 clean away, and went directly into Moorfields, where my fellow- 
 rogue was to meet me. It was not long before he came : I had no 
 occasion to tell him my success ; for he had heard of the action 
 among the crowd. We searched the book, and found several 
 goldsmith's and other notes ; but the best of the booty was in one 
 of the folds of the cover of the book ; there was a paper full of loose 
 diamonds. The man, as w T e understood afterwards, was a Jew, 
 and dealt in those glittering commodities. 
 
 J 1 We agreed that Will (which was my comrade's name) should 
 return to the 'Change to hear what news was stirring, and there he 
 heard of a reward of one hundred pounds for returning the things. 
 The next day he went to the gentleman, and told him he had got 
 some scent of his book, and the person who took it, and who, he 
 believed, would restore it for the sake of the reward, provided he 
 was assured that he should not be punished for the fact. After many 
 preliminaries, it was concluded, that Will should bring the book, 
 and the things lost in it, and receive the reward, which on the third 
 day he did, and faithfully paid me my share of it. 
 
 " Not long after this, it fell out, we were strolling about in 
 Smithfield on a Friday; there happened to be an old country gen- 
 tleman in the market, selling some very large bullocks; it seems 
 they came out of Sussex, for we heard him say, there were no such 
 bullocks in the whole county of Sussex. His worship, for so they 
 called him, had received the money for these bullocks at a tavern, 
 the sign of which 1 have forgotten now, and having some of it in 
 a bag, and the bag in his hand, he was taken with a sudden fit of 
 coughing, and stood to cough, resting his hand with the bag of 
 money in it upon a bulk-head of a shop, just by the cloister-gate 
 in Smithfield ; that is to say, within three or four doors of it : we 
 were both just behind him, when Will said to me, * Stand ready.' 
 Upon this he made an artificial stumble, and fell with his head just 
 against the old gentleman in the very moment when he was coughing 
 ready to be strangled and quite spent for want of breath. 
 
 " The violence of the blow beat the old gentleman quite down 
 the bag of money did not immediately fly out of his hand, but I ran 
 to get hold of it, and giving it a quick snatch, pulled it clean away, 
 and ran like the wind down the cloister with it, till I got to our old 
 rendezvous. Will in the mean time fell down with the old geatle- 
 
136 ENGLISH HIUHWAYMEM. 
 
 man, btU soon got up. The old knight (for such it seems he was) 
 was frighted with the fall, and his breath was so stopped with his 
 cough, that he could not recover himself to speak until same time, 
 during which nimble Will was got up again, and walked off; nor 
 could he call out ' stop thief,' or tell anybody he had lost any thing 
 for a good while ; but coughing vehemently till he was almost black 
 in the face, he at last brought it out, * The rogues have got away 
 my bag of money.' 
 
 " All the while the people understood nothing of the matter; and 
 as for the rogues, indeed, they had time enough to get clear away, 
 and in about an hour Will came to the rendezvous; there we sat 
 down on the grass, and turned out the money, which proved to be 
 eight guineas, and five pounds eight shillings in silver. This we 
 shared upon the spot, and went to work the same day for more ; but 
 whether it was that, being flushed with our success, we were not 
 so vigilant, or that no other opportunity offered, I know not, but 
 we got nothing more that night. 
 
 " The next adventure was in the dusk of the evening, in a court 
 which goes out of Gracechurch-street into Lombard-street, where 
 the Quakers' meeting-house is. There was a young fellow, who, 
 as we learned afterwards, was a woollen-draper's apprentice in 
 Gracechurch-street; it seems, he had been receiving a sum of 
 money, which was very considerable, and he came to a goldsmith's 
 in Lombard-street with it, paid in the most of it there, insomuch 
 that it grew dark, and the goldsmith began to shut up his shop, and 
 to light his candles. We watched him in there, and stood on the 
 other side of the way, to see what he did. When he had paid in 
 all the money he intended, he stayed a little longer to take notes 
 for what he had paid. At last he came out of the shop with still a 
 pretty large bag under his arm, and walked over into the court, 
 which was then very dark. In the middle of the court is a boarded 
 entry, and at the end of it a threshold : and as soon as he had set 
 his foot over the threshold, he was to turn on his left hand into 
 Gracechurch-street. 
 
 " Keep up,' said Will tome; ' be nimble:' and as soon as he 
 had said so, he flew at the young man, and gave him such a violent 
 thrust that it pushed him forward with too great a force for him to 
 stand, and as he strove to recover the threshold, Will took hold of 
 his feet, and he fell forward. I stood ready, and presently fell out 
 the bag of money, which I heard fall, for it flew out of his hand. 
 I went forward with the money, and Will, finding 1 had it, rau 
 backward, and, as I made along Femmurch-street, overtook me, 
 
COLONEL JACK. 137 
 
 and we scoured home together. The poor young man was hurt a 
 little with the fall, and reported to his master, as we heard after 
 wards, that he was knocked down. His master was glad the rest 
 of the money was paid in to the bankers, and made no great noise 
 at the loss, only cautioned his apprentice to avoid such dark places 
 for the future. 
 
 " This booty amounted to 142. 18s. apiece, and added extremely 
 to my store, which began to grow too big for my management ; but 
 still I was at a loss with whom to trust it. 
 
 " A little after this, WilJ brought me into the company of two 
 more young fellows : we met at the lower part of Gray's-inn-lane, 
 about an hour before sunset, and went out into the fields towards a 
 place called the Pindar of Wakefiekl where are abundance of 
 brick-kilns. Here it was agreed to spread from the field path to the 
 road-way, all the way towards Pancras church, to observe any 
 chance game, which, as they called it, they might shoot flying. 
 Upon the path, within the bank on the side of the road going towards 
 Kentish Town, two of our gang, Will and one of the others, met 
 a single gentleman walking apace towards the town, it being almost 
 dark. Will cried, 'Mark, ho!' which it seems was the word at 
 which we were all to stand still at a distance, come in if he wanted 
 help, and give a signal if anything appeared that was dangerous. 
 " Will stepped up to the gentleman, stopped him, and put the 
 question, that is, ' Sir, your money !' The gentleman, seeing he 
 was alone, struck at him with his cane ; but Will, a nimble, strong 
 fellow, flew upon him, and with struggling got him down ; then he 
 begged for his life, Will having told him, with an oath, that he 
 would cut his throat in a moment. While this was doing, a hack- 
 ney-coach came along the road, and the fourth man who was that 
 way cried, ' Mark, ho !' which was to intimate that it was a prize, 
 not a surprise ; and, accordingly, the next man went up to assist 
 him, where they stopped the coach, which had a doctor of physic 
 and a surgeon in it, who had been to visit some very rich patient, 
 and I suppose had considerable fees, for here they got two gold 
 purses, one with eleven or twelve guineas, the other six, with some 
 pocket money, two watches, one diamond ring, and the surgeon's 
 plaster-box, which was nearly full of silver instruments. 
 
 " While they were at this work, Will kept the man down, who 
 was under him ; and though he promised not to kill him, unless he 
 offered to make a noise, yet he would not let him stir till he heard 
 the noise of the coach going on again, by which he knew the job 
 was sver on that side. Then he carried him a little out of the way, 
 
138 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 tied his hands behind him, and bade him lie still and make no noise 
 and he would come back in half an hour, and untie him upon his 
 word; but if he cried out, he would come back and kill him. The 
 poor man promised to lie still, and make no noise, and did so, and 
 had not above lis. 6d. in his pocket, which Will took, and came 
 back to the rest. But whiJe they were together, I was on the other 
 side of the Pindar of Wakefield, and cried out, ' Mark, ho!' too. 
 " What I saw was a couple of poor women— one a kind of a nurs«, 
 and the other a maid-servant, going for Kentish Town. As Will 
 knew I was but young at the work, he came flying to me, and seeing 
 how easy a bargain it was, he said, ' Go, Colonel, fall to work!' 1 
 went up to them, and, speaking to the elderly woman, ' Nurse,' said I, 
 1 don't be in such haste — 1 want to speak with you ;' at which they 
 both stopped, and looked a little frightened. ' Don't be alarmed, 
 sweetheart,' said I to the maid ; ' a little of that money in the bottom 
 of your pocket will make all easy, and I'll do you no harm.' By 
 this time Will came up to us, for they had not seen him before ; 
 then they began to scream out. ' Hold!' said I, ' make no noise, 
 unless you have a mind to force us to murder you whether we will 
 or no : give me your money presently, and make no words, and 
 we shan't hurt you.' Upon this the poor maid pulled out five shillings 
 and sixpence, and the old woman a guinea and a shilling, crying 
 heartily for her money, and said it was all she had in the world. 
 Well, we took it for all that, though it made my heart bleed to se? 
 what agony the poor woman was in at parting with it, and I askeo 
 her where she lived? she said her name was Smith, and she lived 
 at Kentish Town. I said nothing to her, but bade them go on about 
 their business, and 1 gave Will the money. In a few minutes we 
 were all together again. One of the rogues said, ' Come, this is 
 well enough for one road; it's time to be gone.' So we jogged 
 away, crossing the field, out of the path, towards Tottenham-court. 
 1 But, hold,' said Will, ■ I must go and untie the man, d — n him.' 
 One of them said, ' Let him lie.' ' No,' said Will, ' I will not 
 be worse than my word : I will untie him.' So he went to the place ; 
 but the man was gone : either he had untied himself, or somebody 
 had passed by, and he had called for help, and so was untied, for 
 he could not find him, nor make him hear, though he ventured *o 
 call twice for him aloud. 
 
 " This made us hasten away the faster, and getting into Totten- 
 ham-court road, they thought it was a little too near, so they made 
 into the town at St. Giles's, and crossing to Piccadilly, wont to 
 Hyde Park gate ; here they ventured to rob another coach, that is 
 
COLONEL JACK. 189 
 
 to say, one of the two other rogues and Will did it between the 
 Park-gate and Knightsbridge. There was in it only a gentleman 
 and a woman whom he had picked up, it seems, at the Spring-garden 
 a little farther : they took the gentleman's money, and his watch, 
 and his silver hilted sword ; but when they came to the woman, she 
 cursed them for robbing the gentleman of his money, and leaving 
 none for her : as for herself she had not one sixpenny-piece about 
 her though she was, indeed, well enough dressed too. Having 
 made this adventure, we parted, and went each man to his lodging. 
 
 " Two days after this, Will came to my lodging, for I had now 
 got a room by myself! and appointed me to meet him the next even- 
 ing at such a place. I went, but to my great satisfaction missed 
 him, but met with the gang at another place, who had committed 
 a notorious robbery near Hounslow ; where they wounded a gentle- 
 man's gardener, so that, I think, he died, and robbed the house of 
 a very considerable sum of money and plate. This, however, was 
 not so clean carried, but the neighbours were alarmed, the rogues 
 pursued, and being at London with the booty, one of them was 
 taken ; but Will, being a dexterous fellow, made his escape with 
 the money and plate. He knew nothing that one of his comrades 
 was taken, and that they were all so closely pursued that every 
 one was obliged to shift for himself. He happened to come in the 
 evening, as good luck then directed him, just after search had been 
 made for him by the constables ; his companion who was taken, 
 having upon promise of favour, and to save himself from the gallows, 
 discovered his confederates, and Will amongst the rest, as the 
 principal party in the whole undertaking. He got notice of it, and 
 left all his booty at my lodging, hiding it in an old coat that lay 
 under my bed, leaving word he had been there, and had left the 
 coat that he borrowed of me under my bed. I knew not what to 
 make of it, but went up-stairs, and finding the parcel, was surpris- 
 ed to see wrapped up in it, above a hundred pounds in plate and 
 money, and beard nothing of brother Will, as he called himself, 
 for three or four days, when we sold the plate after the rate of two 
 shillings per ounce, to a pawnbroker near Cloth-Fair. 
 
 11 About two days afterwards, going upon the stroll, whom should 
 1 meet but my former brother, Captain Jack ! when he saw me, he 
 came close to me in his blunt way, and said, ' Have you heard the 
 news?' 1 asked him, 'what news?' He told me, ' My old comrade 
 and teacher was taken, and that morning carried to Newgate ; that 
 he was charged with a robbery and murder, committed somewhere 
 beyond Brentford; and that the worst was, he was impeached.' I 
 
140 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 thanked him for his information, and fur that time parted; but was 
 the very next morning surprised, when, going across Rag-Fair, ( 
 heard one call ' Jack.' I looked behind me, and immediately saw 
 three men, and after them a constable, coming towards me with 
 great sneed. I was in a great surprise, and started to run ; but one 
 of tnem clapped in upon me, got hold of me, and in a moment the 
 rest surrounded me, and told me they were to apprehend a known 
 thief, who went by the name of one of the ■ Three Jacks of Rag- 
 Fair;* for that he was charged upon oath with having been a pa*rty 
 in a notorious robbery, burglary, and murder, committed in such 
 a place and on such a day. 
 
 " Not to trouble the reader with an account of the discourse that 
 passed between the justice, before whom I was carried, and my- 
 self, I shall in brief inform him, that my brother Captain Jack, 
 who had the forwardness to put it to me whether I was among them 
 or no, when in truth he was there himself, had the only reason to 
 fly, at the same time that he advised me to shift for myself; so that 
 1 was discharged, and in about three weeks after, my master and 
 tutor in wickedness, poor Will, was executed for the fact. 
 
 " I had nothing to do now but to find out the captain, of whom, 
 though not without some trouble, I at last got news, and told him 
 the whole story. He presently discovered, by his surprise, that he 
 was guilty, and after a few words more told me, ' It was all true, 
 that he was in the robbery, and had the greatest part of the booty 
 in keeping ; but what to do with it, or himself, he did not know, 
 but thought of flying into Scotland,' asking me if I would go with 
 him ?' I consented, and he showed me twenty-two pounds he had 
 in money. I honestly produced all the money I had left, which 
 was upwards of sixteen pounds. We set out from London on foot, 
 and travelled the first day to Ware ; for we had learned so much of 
 the road that our way lay through that town ; from Ware we tra- 
 velled to Cambridge, though that was not our direct road. The oc- 
 casion was this : in our way through Puckeridge, wo baited at an 
 inn, and while we were there, a countryman came and fastened his 
 horse at the gate, while he went into drink. We sat in the gateway, 
 and having called for a mug of beer, wo drank it up. We had 
 boon talking to the ostler about the way to Scotland, who told us to 
 ask the road to Royston : ' But,' said he, ■ there is a turning just 
 here a little farther, you must not go that way, for that goes to 
 Cambridge.' 
 
 " We had paid for our beer, and sat at the door only to rest us v 
 when on a sudden a gentleman's coach drove up, and throe 
 
COLONEL JACK. ttl 
 
 or four horsemen rode into the yard, and the ostler was obliged tc 
 go in with them. Said he to the captain, ' Young man, pray take 
 hold of the horse,* meaning the countryman's horse I mentioned 
 above, * and take him out of the way that the coach may come up.' 
 He did so, and beckoned to me to follow him. We walked together 
 to the turning ; said he to me, " Do you step before, and turn up 
 the lane ; I'll overtake you ; so I went on up the lane, and in a few 
 minutes he got upon the horse, and was soon at my heels, bidding 
 me get up and take a lift. 
 
 " I made no difficulty of doing so, and away we went at a good 
 round rate, having a strong horse under us. We suspected the 
 countryman would follow us to Royston, because of our directions 
 from the ostler ; so that we went, towards Cambridge, and went 
 easier after the first hour's riding; and coming through a town or 
 two, we alighted by turns, and did not then ride double, but by 
 the way picked a couple of good shirts off a hedge; and that even- 
 ing got safe to Cambridge, where the next day 1 bought a horse for 
 myself. Thus equipped, we jogged on through several places, till 
 we got to Stamford in Lincolnshire, where it was impossible to res- 
 train my captain from playing his pranks, even at church ; where 
 he went, and placed himself so near an old lady, that he got her 
 gold watch from her side unperceived; and the same night we went 
 away by moonlight, after having the satisfaction to hear the watch 
 cried, and ten guineas offered for it again. He would have been 
 glad of the ten guineas instead of the watch, but durst not venture 
 to carry it home. We went through several other places, such as 
 Grantham, Newark, and Nottingham, where we played our tricks; 
 but at last we got safe to Edinburgh, without any accident but one, 
 which was in crossing a ford, where the captain was really in danger 
 of drowning, his horse being driven down by the stream, and fall- 
 ing under him ; but the rider had a proverb on his side, and got 
 out of the water. 
 
 " At Edinburgh we remained about a month, when, on a sudden, 
 my captain was gone, horse and all, and 1 knew nothing what was 
 become of him, nor did I ever see or hear of him for eighteen months 
 after; nor did he so much as leave the least notice for me, either 
 where he was gone, or whether he would return to Edinburgh again 
 or no. I took his leaving me very grievously, not knowing what to 
 do with myself, being a stranger in the place, and on the other 
 hand, my money abated apace too. I had, for the most part of this 
 time, my horse upon my hands to keep; and, as horses yield but 
 a sorry price in Scotland, I found no opportunity to sell him to any 
 advantage, however, at last, I was forced to dispose of him. 
 
142 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 " Being thus easeu of my horse, and having nothing at all to do, 
 1 began to consider within myself what would become of me, and 
 what I could turn my hand to. I had not much diminished my stock 
 of money ; for though I was all the way so wary that 1 would not join 
 with my captain in his desperate attempts, yet I made no scruple to 
 live at his expense. In the next place, I was not so anxious about 
 my money running low, because I had made a reserve, by leaving 
 upwards of 90/. in a friend's hands at London; but still, I w&s 
 willing to get into some employment for a livelihood. I was sick 
 of the wandering life I had led, and resolved to be a thief no more, 
 but stuck close to writing and reading for about six months, till I 
 got into the service of an officer of the Customs, who employed me 
 for a time ; but, as he set me to do little but pass and repass between 
 Leith and Edinburgh, leaving me to live at my own expense till 
 my wages should be due, I ran out the little money I had left in 
 clothes and subsistence, and shortly before the year's end, when I 
 was to have 12/. English money, my master was turned out of his 
 place, and, what was worse, having been charged with some mis- 
 applications, was obliged to take shelter in England ; so we that 
 were his servants — for there were three of us — were left to shift for 
 ourselves. This was a hard case for me, in a strange place, and 1 
 was reduced by it to the last extremity. I might have gone to 
 England, an English ship being there : the master proffered to take 
 my word for ten shillings, till I got there; but just as I was de- 
 parting, Captain Jack appeared again. 
 
 " I have mentioned how he left me, and that I saw him no more 
 for eighteen months. His ramble and adventures were many; in 
 that time he went to Glasgow, playing some very remarkable pranks 
 there ; escaped the gallows almost miraculously ; got over to Ire- 
 land; wandered about there; escaped from Londonderry over to 
 the Highlands, and, about a month before I was left destitute at 
 Leith by my master, noble Captain Jack came in there, on board 
 the ferry-boat from Fife, being, after all his adventures and suc- 
 cesses, advanced to the dignity of a foot soldier in a body of recruits, 
 raised in the north for the regiment of Douglas. 
 
 11 After my disaster, being reduced almost as low as Jack, I found 
 no better shift before me, at least liot for the present, than to enter 
 myself a soldier too; and thus we were ranked together, with each 
 of us a musket upon our shoulders. 1 was extremely delighted with 
 the life of a soldier; for I took the exercises naturally, so that the 
 sergeant who taught us to handle our arms, seeing me so ready at 
 it, asked me, if 1 had never carried arms before ? I told him, no. 
 At which he swore, though jesting; ' They call you colonel,* said 
 
COLONEL JACK. 143 
 
 h*», ' and I believe you will be a colonel, or you must be some colo- 
 nel's bastard, or you would never handle your arms as you do, at 
 once or twice showing.' Whatever was my satisfaction in that 
 respect, yet other circumstances did not equally concur to marke 
 this life suit me ; for, after we had been about six months in this 
 company, we were informed, that we were to march for England, and 
 be shipped off at Newcastle, or Hull, to join the regiment in Flan- 
 ders. Poor Captain Jack's case was particular ; he durst not appear 
 publicly at Newcastle, as he must have done had he marched with 
 the recruits. In the next place, I remembered my money in London, 
 which was almost 100/. ; and if it had been asked all the soldiers 
 in the regiment, which of them would go to Flanders a private 
 sentinel if they had 100/. in their pockets, I believe none of them 
 would have answered in the affirmative. 
 
 " These two circumstances concurring, I began to be very uneasy, 
 and very unwilling in my thoughts to go over into Flanders a poor 
 Musketeer, to be knocked on the head for 3s. 6d. a-week. While 
 I was daily musing on the hardship of being sent away as above, 
 Captain Jack came to me one evening, and asked me to take a 
 walk with him into the fields, for he wanted to speak with me. We 
 walked together here, and talked seriously of the matter, and at 
 last concluded to desert that very night; the moon affording a good 
 light, and Jack having got a comrade with him thoroughly acquaint- 
 ed with the way across the Tweed; when on the other side we should 
 be on English ground, and safe enough ; from thence we proposed 
 to go to Newcastle, and get some collier ship to take us in, and 
 carry us to London. 
 
 " About half an hour past eight in the morning, we reached the 
 Tweed; and here we overtook two more of the same regiment, who 
 had deserted from Haddingdon, where another part of the recruits 
 were quartered. These were Scotsmen, and very poor, having not 
 one penny in their pockets ; and when they saw us, whom they 
 knew to be of the same regiment, they took us to be pursuers : 
 upon which they stood upon their defence, having the regi- 
 ment swords on, as we had also, but none of the mounting or 
 clothing; for we were not to receive the clothes till we came to the 
 regiment in Flanders. It was not long before we made them under- 
 stand that we were in the same condition with themselves; and so 
 we became one company. Oar money had ebbed very low, and 
 we contrived to get into Newcastle in the dusk of the evening; and 
 even then we durst not venture into the public parts of the ^ice, 
 out made down towards the river ociovv tne town. Here v.e knew 
 
144 ENGLISH 1IIGUWA\MEN 
 
 uot what to do with ourselves, but, guided by our late, we yut a 
 good face upon the matter, went into an alehouse, sat down, ana 
 called for a pint of beer. 
 
 " The woman of the house appeared very frank, and entertained 
 us cheerfully; so we, at last, told her our condition, and asked her 
 if she could not help us to some kind master of a collier, who would 
 give us a passage to London by sea. The subtle devil, who im- 
 mediately found us proper fish for her hook, gave us the kindes^ 
 words in the world, and told us she was heartily sorry she had not 
 seen us one day sooner; that there was a collier-master of her par- 
 ticular acquaintance, who went away but with the morning tide ; 
 that the ship was fallen down to Shields, but, she believed, was 
 hardly over the bar, and she would send to his house, and see if he 
 was gone on board, (for some masters do not go away till a tide after 
 the ship :) and she was sure, if he was not gone, she could prevail 
 with him to take us all in : but then she was afraid we must go on 
 board immediately, the same night. 
 
 " We begged of her to send to his house, for we knew not what 
 fc> do; for, as we had no money, we had no lodging, and wanted 
 nothing but to be on board. We looked upon this as a mighty fa- 
 vour that she sent to the master's house, and, to our great joy, she 
 brought us word, about an hour after, that he was not gone, and 
 was at a tavern in the town, whither his boy had been to fetch him; 
 and that he had sent word he would call there in his way home 
 This was all in our favour, and we were extremely pleased with it. 
 In about an hour he came into the room to us. ' Where are these 
 honest gentlemen soldiers,' said he, ' that are in such distress ?' We 
 all stood up, and paid our respects to him. * Well, gentlemen,' 
 said he, ' and is all your money spent ?' 
 
 " ■ Indeed it is,' said one of our company, ' and we shall be 
 infinitely obliged to you, sir, if you will give us a passage. We 
 shall be very willing to do any thing we can in the ship, though we 
 are not seamen.' 
 
 " ■ Why,' said he, ■ were none of you ever at sea in your lives?* 
 
 " * No,' said we, * not one of us.' 
 
 " ' You will be able to do me no seivice, then; for you will all 
 be sick. However, for my good landlady's sake here, I'll do it. 
 But are you all ready to go on board, for I go on board myself this 
 very night.' 
 
 " * Yes, sir,' said we again, ' we are ready to go this very minute.' 
 
 " * No, no.' said he, very kindly, ■ we'll drink together. Oome, 
 landlady, make these honest gentlemen a sneaker of puncfc.' 
 
COLONEL JACK. U3 
 
 " We looked at one another, for we knew we had no money; 
 and he perceived it. ' Come, come,' said he, ' don't be concerned 
 at your having no money: my landlady here, and 1, never part 
 with dry lips. Come, good wife, make the punch, as I bid you.' 
 
 " We thanked him, and said, - God bless you, noble captain!' 
 a hundred times over, being overjoyed at our good luck. While 
 we were drinking the punch, he told the landlady he would step 
 home, and order the boat to come at high water, and bade her get 
 something for supper, which she did. 
 
 4; In less than an hour our captain returned, and came up to us, 
 aad blamed us that we had not drunk the punch out. ' Come,' said 
 ae, ' don't be bashful; when that's out, we can have another. 
 *v uen I am obliging poor men, I love to do it handsomely.' 
 
 M We drank on, and drank the punch out ; more was brought up, 
 ana he pushed it about apace ; then came up a leg of mutton. I 
 need not say we fed heartily, being several times told we should 
 jjay nothing. After supper, he bade my landlady ask if the boat 
 was come ; and she brought word, No, it was not high water by a 
 great deal. Then more punch was called for, and, as was afterwards 
 confessed, something more than ordinary was put into it, so that, 
 by the time the punch was drunk out, we were all intoxicated ; and 
 as for me, I fell asleep. 
 
 " At last I was roused, and told that the boat was come : so I 
 and my drunken comrades tumbled out, almost one over another, 
 into the boat, and away we went with our captain. Most of us, if 
 not all, fell asleep till after some time, though how much, or how 
 far going, we knew not. The boat stopped, and we were awakened, 
 and told we were at the ship's side, which was true, and with much 
 help, and holding us, for fear we should fall overboard, our captain, 
 as we termed him, called us thus: — ' Here: boatswain, take care 
 of these gentlemen ; give them good cabins, and let them turn in 
 to sleep, for they are very weary.' And so indeed we were, and 
 drunk too. 
 
 " Care was taken of us, according to order, and we were put into 
 very good cabins, where we were sure to go immediately to sleep. 
 In the mean time, the ship, which was indeed just ready to go, and 
 only on notice given had come to anchor for us at Shields, weighed, 
 stood over the bar, and went off to sea; and when we awoke, and 
 began to peep abroad, which was not till near noon the next day, 
 we found ourselves a great way at sea, the land in sight indeed, 
 but at a great distance, and all going merrily on for London, as I 
 thought. We were very well used, and very well satisfied with our 
 
 L 
 
1<c ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 condition, for about three days, when we began to inquire, whether 
 we were not almost in the Channel, and how much longer it would 
 be before we should come into the river ? ' What river ?' said one 
 of the men. ' Why, the Thames,* said my Captain Jack. ' The 
 Thames V answered the sailor, ' what d'ye mean by that ? What ! 
 ha'n't you had time enough to be sober yet?' So Captain Jack 
 said no more, but looked very silly, when, awhile after, some other 
 of us asked the same question, and the seamen, who knew nothiri£ 
 of the cheat, began to smell a rat, and turning to the other English- 
 man who came with us, ' Pray/ said he, ■ where do you fanr.*v vou 
 are going, that you ask so often about it?' ■ Why to Londo'i,' 
 said he ; ' where should we be going ? We agreed with the eav * J In 
 to carry us to London.' 
 
 " • Not with the captain,' said he ; ' I dare say, poor men, you are 
 all cheated ; and I thought so when I saw you come aboarl with 
 that kidnapping rogue Gilliman ; you are all betrayed, for the ship 
 is bound to Virginia.' As soon as we heard this news, we were 
 raving men, drew our swords, and swore revenge ; but we were 
 soon overpowered, and carried before the captain, who told us, ne 
 was sorry for what had happened, but that he had no hand in it, 
 and it was out of his power to help us; and he let us know very 
 plainly what our condition was, namely, that we were put on board 
 his ship as servants to Maryland, to be delivered to a person there ; 
 but that, however, if we would be quiet and orderly in his ship, lie 
 would use us well in the passage ; but if we were unruly, we must 
 be handcuffed, and be kept between decks; for it was his business 
 to take care no disturbance happened in the ship. 
 
 " ' No hand in it! D — n him,' said my Captain Jack aloud, ' do 
 you think he is not a confederate in this villainy ? would any honest 
 man receive innocent people on board his ship, and not enquire of 
 their circumstances, but carry them away, and not speak to them ? 
 I tell you he is a villain. Why does he not complete his villainy, 
 and murder us, and then he'll be free from our revenge !' 
 
 " All this discourse availed nothing, we were forced to be quiet, 
 and had a very good voyage, no storms all the way ; but just before 
 we arrived, one of the Scotchmen asked the captain of the ship, 
 whether he would sell us. ■ Yes,' said he. ' Why then, sir,' said 
 the Scotchman, ' the devil will have you at the hinder end of the 
 bargain.' * Say you so ?' said the captain, smiling : ' well, well, let 
 the devil and I alone to agree about that; do you be quiet, and 
 behave civilly, as you should do.' 
 
 " When we came ashore, which was on the banks of a river they 
 
COLONEL JACK. 147 
 
 call Potomack, Jack said, " I have something to say to you, cap- 
 tain ; that is, I have promised to cut your throat, and, depend upon 
 it, I will be as good as my word." Our captain or kidnapper, call 
 him as you will, made no answer, but delivered us to the merchant 
 to whom we were consigned, who again disposed of us as he thought 
 fit; and in a few days we were separated. 
 
 " As for my Captain Jack, to make short of the story, that des- 
 perate rogue had the good luck to have an easy good master, whom 
 he abused very much ; for he took an opportunity to run away with 
 a boat, with which his master entrusted him and another to carry 
 provisions to a plantation down the river. This boat and provisions 
 they ran away with, an<u sailed north to the bottom of the bay, as 
 they call it, and there quitting the boat, they wandered through 
 the woods, till they got into Pennsylvania, from whence they made 
 shift to get a passage to New England, and from thence home; 
 where, falling in among his old companions, and to his old trade, 
 he was at length taken and hanged about a month before I came to 
 London, which was near twenty years afterwards. 
 
 " My part was harder at the beginning, though better at the latter 
 end ; I was sold to a rich planter whose name was Smith. During 
 this scene of life 1 had time to reflect on my past hours ; and though 
 I had no great capacity of making a clear judgment, and very few 
 reflections from conscience, yet it made some impression upon me. 
 I behaved myself so well, that my master took notice of me, and 
 made me one of his overseers ; and was so kind as to send my note 
 of my friend's hand for the 93£. before-mentioned, to his corres- 
 pondent, who received and returned me the money. My good 
 master, a little time after, said to me, ' Colonel, don't flatter me, 
 I love plain dealing : liberty is precious to every body, I give you 
 yours, and will take care you shall be well used by the country, and 
 will get you a good plantation.' 
 
 " I insisted I would not quit his service for the best plantation 
 in Maryland; that he had been so good tome, and I believed I was 
 so useful to him, that 1 could not think of it; and at last I added, 
 I hoped he could not believe but that I had as much gratitude as a 
 negro. 
 
 " He smiled, and said he would not be served upon these terms; 
 that he did not forget what he had promised, nor what I had done 
 in his plantation : and that he was resolved in the first place to give 
 me my liberty ; so he pulled out a piece of paper, and threw it to 
 me : ' There,' said he, ' is a certificate of your coining on shore, 
 and being sold to me for five years, of which you have lived three 
 with me, and now you are your own master.' 
 
14S ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 " I bowed, and told him, that I was sure if I was my own master, 
 I would be his servant as long as he would accept of my services. 
 He told me he would accept of my services on these two conditions ; 
 first, that he would give me 30/. per annum and my board, for my 
 managing the plantation I was then employed in. And secondly, 
 that at the same time he would procure me a new plantation to begin 
 with upon my own account; * for Jack,' said he, smiling, 'though 
 you are but a young man, 'tis time you were doing something for 
 yourself.' *• 
 
 " Not long after, he purchased in my name about 300 acres of 
 fond, near his own plantation, as he said, that I might the better 
 take care of his. My master, for such I must still call him, gene- 
 rously gave it me; ' but Colonel,' said he, ' giving you this plan- 
 tation is nothing at all, if I do not assist you to support it, and to 
 carry it on, and therefore I will give you credit for whatever is 
 needful; such as tools, provisions, and some servants to begin; 
 materials for out-houses, and hogs, cows, horses for stock, and the 
 like ; and I'll take it out of your returns from abroad, as you can 
 pay it.' 
 
 " Thus got to be a planter, and encouraged by a kind benefactor 
 that I might not be wholly taken up with my new plantation, he 
 gave me freely, without any consideration, one of his negroes, 
 named Mouchat, whom I always esteemed. Besides this, he sent 
 to me two servants more, a man and a woman ; but these two he 
 put to my account as above. Mouchat and these two fell immedi- 
 ately to work for me ; they began with about two acres of land, 
 which had but little timber on it at first, and most of that was cut 
 down by the two carpenters who built my house. It was a great 
 advantage to me, that I had so bountiful a master who helped me 
 out in every case; for in this very first year, I received a terrible 
 blow; having sent a large quantity of tobacco to a merchant in 
 London, by my master's direction, which arrived safe there, the 
 merchant was ordered to make the return in a sorted cargo of goods 
 for me, such as would have made a man of me all at once, but, to 
 my inexpressible terror and surprise, the ship was lost, and that 
 just at the entrance into the Cape, that is to say, the mouth of the 
 bay; some of the goods were recovered, but spoiled. In short, 
 nothing but the nails, tools, and iron-work were good for any thing; 
 and though the value of them was very considerable in proportion 
 to the rest; yet my loss was irreparably great, and indeed the 
 greatness of the loss consisted in its being irreparable. 
 
 " I was perfectly astonished at the first news of the loss, knowing 
 that I was in debt to my patron or master so much, that it must be 
 
COLONEL JACK. 149 
 
 several years befere I should recover it; and as he brought me the 
 bad news himself, he perceived my disorder ; that is to say, he saw 
 I was in the utmost confusion, and a kind of amazement; and so 
 indeed I was, because I was so much in debt. But he spoke cheer- 
 fully to me, * Come,' said he, ' do not be so discouraged ; you may 
 make up this loss.' ' No, sir,' said I, * that never can be, for it is 
 my all, and I shall never be out of debt.' ■ Well,' he answered, 
 * you have no creditor, however, but me ; and, now, remember I 
 once told you, I would make a man of you, and I will not disap- 
 point you.' For this further proof of his friendship I thanked him 
 with more ceremony and respect than ever, because 1 thought my- 
 self more under the hatches than I was before : but he was as good 
 as his word, for he did not baulk me in the least of anything I 
 wanted; and as I had more iron-work saved out of the ship in pro- 
 portion than I required, I supplied him with some part of it, and 
 took up some linen and clothes and other necessaries from him in 
 exchange. And now I began to increase visibly; I had a large 
 quantity of land cured, that is, freed from timber, and a very good 
 crop of tobacco in view, and I got three servants more, and one 
 negro; so- that I had five white servants and two negroes; and with 
 this my affairs went very well on ; the first year, indeed, I took my 
 wages or salary of 301. a-year, because I wanted it ve-ry much ; 
 but the second and third year 1 resolved not to take it, but to leave 
 it in my benefactor's hands, to clear off the debt I had contracted. 
 " At the same time my thoughts dictated to me, that though this 
 was the foundation of my new life, yet it was not the superstructure, 
 and that 1 might still be born for greater things than these; that it 
 is honesty and virtue alone that made men rich and great, and gave 
 them fame, as well as figure in the world, and that therefore I was 
 to lay my foundation in these, and expect what might follow in time. 
 To help these thoughts, as I had learned to read and write when I 
 was in Scotland, so 1 began now to love books, and particularly 
 had an opportunity of reading some very considerable ones, some 
 of which I bought at a planter'i house, who was lately dead and 
 his goods sold, and others I borrowed. I considered my present 
 state of life to be my mere youth, though I was now above 30 years 
 old, because in my youth I had learned nothing; and if my daily 
 business, which was now great, would have permitted, 1 would have 
 been content to have gone to school. However, fate, which had 
 something else in store for me, threw an opportunity into my hand, 
 namely, a clever fellow that came over a transported felon from 
 Bristol and fell into my hands for a servant. He had led a loose 
 
150 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 life, he acknowledged, and being driven to extremities, took to the 
 highway, for which, had he been taken, he would have been hang- 
 ed; but falling into some low-prized rogueries afterwards, for want 
 of opportunity for worse, he was caught, condemned, and trans- 
 ported, and, as he said, was glad he came off so. 
 
 " He was an excellent scholar, and I perceiving it, asked him 
 one time if he could give a method how I might learn the Latin 
 tongue ; he said, smiling, yes, he could teach it me in three montfff, 
 if I would let him have books, or even without books if he had time. 
 1 told him a book would become his hand better than a hoe, and if 
 he could promise to make me but understand Latin enough to read 
 it and understand other languages by it, I would ease him of the 
 labour which I was now obliged to put him to ; especially if 1 was 
 assured that he was fit to receive that favour of a kind master. In 
 short, I made him to me, what my kind benefactor made rne to him : 
 and from him I gained a fund of knowledge infinitely more valuable 
 than the rate of a slave, which was what I paid for it;— but of this 
 hereafter. 
 
 " In this posture I went on for twelve years, and was very suc- 
 cessful in my plantation, and had gotten by means of my master's 
 favour, whom now I called my friend, a correspondent in London, 
 with whom I traded ; shipped over my tobacco to him, and received 
 European goods in return, such as I wanted to carry on my planta- 
 tion, and sufficient to sell to others also. In this interval, my good 
 friend and benefactor died; and I was left very disconsolate on 
 account of my loss, for it was indeed a great loss to me ; he had 
 been a father to me, and I was like a forsaken stranger without him. 
 Though I knew the country, and the trade too, well enough, and 
 had for some time chieily carried on his whole business for him; 
 yet I seemed greatly at. a loss now my counsellor and chief supporter 
 was gone, and I had no confidant to communicate myself to, on all 
 occasions, as formerly ; but there was no remedy. 1 was, however, 
 m a better condition to stand alone than ever; 1 had a very large 
 plantation, and had near seventy negroes, and other servants. 
 
 " 1 now looked upon myself as one buried alive in a remote part 
 of the world, where I could see nothing at all, and hear but little 
 of what was seen, and that little not till at least hall' a year after 
 it was done, and sometimes a year or nioiv; and in a word, the 
 old reproach often came in my way, namely, that tins was not yet 
 the life of a gentleman. However, 1 now began to frame my 
 thoughts for a voyage to England, resolving then to act as I should 
 see cause, but with a secret resolution to see more of the world if 
 
COLONEL JACK. 151 
 
 possible, and realise those things to my mind, which I had hitherto 
 only entertained remote ideas of by the help of books. 
 
 " It was three years after this before I could get things in order 
 fit for my leaving the country : in this time I delivered my tutor 
 from his bondage, and would have given him his liberty, but I 
 found that I could not empower him to go for England till his 
 time was expired according to the certificate of his transportation, 
 which was registered; so I made him one of my overseers, and 
 thereby raised him gradually to a prospect of living in the same 
 manner, and by the like steps, that my good benefactor raised me, 
 only that I did not assist him to enter upon planting for himself as 
 I was assisted, neither was I upon the spot to do it; but this man 
 by his diligence and honest application delivered himself, even 
 unassisted any farther than by making him an overseer, which was 
 only a present ease and deliverance from the hard labour and fare 
 which he endured as a s<? vant. However, in this trust he behaved 
 so faithfully, and so diligently, that it recommended him in the 
 country, and, when I came back, I found him in circumstances 
 very different from what I left him in, besides his being my princi- 
 pal manager for near twenty years, as you shall hear in its 
 place. 
 
 " I was now making provision for my going to England, after 
 having settled my plantation in such hands as were fully to my 
 satisfaction. My first work was, to furnish myself with such a 
 stock of goods and money as might be sufficient for my occasions 
 abroad, and, particularly, might allow to make large returns to 
 Maryland for the use and supply of all my plantations ; but when 
 I came to look nearer into the voyage, it occurred to me that it would 
 not be prudent to put my cargo all on board the same ship that I 
 went in ; so I shipped, at several times, five hundred hogsheads of 
 tobacco, in several ships, for England, giving notice to my corres- 
 pondent in London, that I would embark about such a time to come 
 over myself, and ordering him to insure for a considerable sum 
 proportioned to the value of my cargo. 
 
 " About two months after this I left the place, and embarked for 
 England in a stout ship carrying 24 guns, and about GOO hogsheads 
 of tobacco ; and we left the capes of Virginia on the first of August 
 
 . We had a very sour and rough voyage for the first fortnight, 
 
 though it was in a season so generally noted for good weather. 
 We met with a storm, and our ship was greatly damaged, and some 
 leaks were sprung, but not so bad but by the diligence of the sea- 
 men they were stopped ; after which we had tolerable weather and 
 
152 EiNGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 a good sea, till we came into the soundings, for so they call the 
 mouth of the British Channel. In the grey of the morning, a 
 French privateer, of 26 guns, appeared, and crowded after us with 
 all the sail she could make. Our captain exchanged a broadside 
 or two with her, which was terrible work to me; for I had never 
 seen such before; the Frenchman's guns having raked us, and 
 killed and wounded six of our men. In short, after a fight long 
 enough to show us that if we would not be taken, we must resolve 
 to sink by her side, for there was no room to expect deliverance, 
 and a fight long enough to save the master's credit, we were taken, 
 and the ship carried away for St. Malo's. I had however, besides 
 my being taken, the mortification to be detained on board the 
 cruiser, and to see the ship I was in, manned by Frenchmen, set 
 6ail from us. I afterwards heard that she was re-taken by an Eng- 
 lish man of-war, and carried into Portsmouth 
 
 " The Rover cruised abroad again, in the mouth of the Channel, 
 for some time, and took a ship richly laden, bound homeward from 
 Jamaica. This was a noble prize for the rogues, and they hastened 
 away with her to St. Malo's ; and from thence I went to Bourdeaux, 
 where the captain asked me. if I would be delivered up a state 
 prisoner, get myself exchanged, or pay three hundred crowns. I 
 desired time to write to my correspondent, in England, who sent 
 me a letter of credit, and in about six weeks I was exchanged for 
 a merchant prisoner in Plymouth. I got passage from hence to 
 Dunkirk, on board a French vessel ; and having a certificate of 
 an exchanged prisoner from the intendant of Bourdeaux, I had a 
 passport given me to go into the Spanish Netherlands, and so 
 whither I pleased. I went to Ghent, afterwards to Newport, where 
 I took the packet-boat, and came over to England, landing at Deal 
 instead of Dover, the weather forcing us into the Downs. When 
 I came to London, J was very well received by my friend to whom 
 I had consigned my effects : for all my goods came safe to hand, 
 and the overseers I had left behind had shipped, at several times, 
 four hundred hogsheads of tobacco, to my correspondent, in my 
 absence. So that I had above 1000/. in my factor's hands, and 
 two hundred hogsheads besides, left in hand, unsold. 
 
 " I had nothing to do now, but entirely to conceal myself from 
 all that had any knowledge of me before; and this was the easiest 
 tiling in the world to do, for I was grown out of every body's know- 
 ledge, and most of those I had known, were grown out of mine. 
 
 ** My Captain who went with me, or rather who carried me away, 
 I found by enquiring at the proper place, had been rambling about 
 
COLONEL JACK. 153 
 
 the world, come to London, fallen into his old trade, which he 
 could not forbear, and growing an eminent highwayman, had made 
 his exit at the gallows after a life of fourteen years most exquisite 
 and successful rogueries; the particulars of which would make, as 
 I observed, an admirable history. My other brother Jack, whom 
 I called Major, followed the like wicked trade ; but was a man of 
 more gallantry and gen^ 1 /, and having committed innumerable 
 depredations upon mam.. , had yet always so much dexterity as 
 to bring himself off, till at length he was laid fast in Newgate, and 
 loaded with irons, and would certainly have gone the same way as 
 the Captain, but he was so dexterous a rogue, that no gaol, no 
 fetters would hold him; and he and two more found means to knock 
 off their irons, worked their way through the wall of the prison, 
 and let themselves down on the outside, in the night. So escaping, 
 they found means to get into France, where he followed the same 
 trade, and that with so much success, that the Major grew famous 
 by the name of Anthony, and had the honour with three of his 
 comrades, (whom he had taught the English way of robbing gene- 
 rously, as they called it, without murdering, or wounding, or ill- 
 using those they robbed,) to be broken upon the wheel, at the Greve 
 in Paris. 
 
 " All these things I found means to be fully informed of, and 
 to have a long account of the particulars of their conduct from some 
 of their comrades, who had the good fortune to escape, and whom 
 I got the knowledge of without letting them so much as guess at 
 who I was, or upon what account 1 inquired. 
 
 " I was now at the height of my good fortune, and got the name 
 of a great merchant. I lived single, and in lodgings, and kept a 
 French servant, being very desirous of improving myself in that 
 language, and received five or six hundred hogsheads a year from 
 my own plantation, and spent my time in that and supplying my 
 people with necessaries at Maryland, as they wanted them. 
 
 " In this private condition I continued about two years more, 
 when the devil, owing me a spleen ever since I refused being a thief, 
 paid me home with interest, by laying a snare in my way which 
 had almost ruined me. 
 
 " There dwelt a lady in the house opposite to the house I lodged 
 in, who made an extraordinary figure, and was a most beautiful 
 person, she was well bred, sang admirably fine, and sometimes I 
 could hear distinctly, the houses being over against one another 
 in a narrow court, this lady put herself so often in my way, that I 
 could not in good manners forbear taking notice of her, and giving 
 
154 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 the ceremony of my hat when I saw her at her window, or at the 
 door, or when I passed her in the court; so that we became almost 
 acquainted at a distance. Sometimes she also visited at the house 
 in which I lodged, and it was generally contrived that I should be 
 introduced when she came. And thus, by degrees, we became 
 more intimately acquainted, and often conversed together in the 
 family, but always in public, at least for a great while. 1 was a 
 mere boy in the affair of love, and knew as little of what belonged 
 to a woman, as any man in Europe of my age ; the thoughts of a 
 wife, much less of a mistress, had never so much as taken the least 
 hold of my head, and I had been till now, as perfectly unacquainted 
 with the sex, and as unconcerned about them, as I was when I was 
 ten years old, and lay in a heap of ashes at the glass-house. 
 
 " She attacked me without ceasing, with the finesse of her 
 conduct, and with arts which were impossible to be ineffectual. She 
 was ever, as it were, in my view, often in my company, and yet 
 kept herself so on the reserve, so surrounded continually with ob- 
 structions, that for several months after she could perceive I sought 
 an opportunity to speak to her, she rendered it impossible, nor 
 could I ever break in upon her, she kept her guard so well. 
 
 " This rigid behaviour was the greatest mystery that could be, 
 considering at the same time, that she never declined my seeing 
 her, or conversing with me in public ; but she held it on. She took 
 care never to sit next me, that I might slip no paper into her hand, 
 or speak softly to her, she kept somebody or other always between, 
 that I could never come up to her. And thus, as if she was resolved 
 really to have nothing to do with me, she held me at bay several 
 months. In short, we came nearer and nearer every time we met, 
 and at last gave the world the slip, and were privately married, to 
 avoid ceremony, and the public inconvenience of a wedding. 
 
 " No sooner were we married, but she threw off the mask of her 
 gravity and good conduct, and carried it to such an excess, that I 
 could not but be dissatisfied at the expense of it. In about a twelve- 
 month she was brought to bed of a fine boy, and her lying-in cost 
 me as near as I can now remember, 136£. which she told me she 
 thought was a trifle. Such jarring continually between us produced 
 a separation; and she demanded 300/. per annum for her mainte- 
 nance. This, however, made me look more closely into her conduct, 
 and, by means of two trusty agents, 1 was enabled to detect her 
 infidelity, and to sue her before the Ecclesiastical Court, from 
 which I obtained a divorce. 
 
 " Things being at this pass, I resolved to go over to France, where 
 
COLONEL JACK. 155 
 
 I fell into company with some Irish officers of the regiment of 
 Dillon, where I bought a company, and so went into the army 
 directly. Our regiment, after I had been some time in it, was 
 commanded into Italy; and one of the most considerable actions I 
 was in, was the famous attack upon Cremona, in the Milanese, 
 where the Germans being treacherously let into the town by night, 
 through a kind of common sewer, surprised the town, and took the 
 Duke de Villeroy prisoner, beating the French troops into the cita- 
 del, but were in the middle of their victory so boldly attacked by 
 two Irish regiments, that, after a most desperate fight, and not 
 being able to break through us to let in their friends, they were 
 obliged to quit the town, to the eternal honour of those Irish regi- 
 ments. Having been in several campaigns, I was permitted to 
 sell my company, and got the Chevalier's brevet for a colonel, in 
 case of raising troops for him in Great Britain. 1 accordingly 
 embarked on board the French fleet for the Firth of Edinburgh; 
 but they overshot their landing-place ; and this delay gave time to 
 the English fleet, under Sir George Byng, to come to an anchor 
 just as we did. 
 
 " Upon this surprise the French admiral set sail, and crowding 
 away to the north, got the start of the English fleet, and escaped, 
 with the loss of one ship only, to Dunkirk ; and glad I was to set 
 my foot on shore again, for all the while we were thus flying for our 
 lives I was under the greatest terror imaginable, and nothing but 
 halters and gibbets ran in my head, concluding that, if I had been 
 taken, I should certainly have been hanged. 
 
 " I took post horses for Flanders, and at last got safe once more 
 to London, from which place I embarked for Virginia, and had a 
 tolerable voyage thither, only that we met with a pirate ship, which 
 plundered us of every thing they could come at which was for their 
 turn ; but, to give the rogues their due, though they were the most 
 abandoned wretches that ever were seen, they did not use us iJl; 
 and, as to my loss, it was not considerable. 
 
 " I found all my affairs in very good order at Virginia, my plan- 
 tation prodigiously increased ; and my manager, who first inspired 
 me with travelling thoughts, and made me master of any knowledge 
 worth naming, received me with a transport of joy, after a ramble 
 of four and twenty years. I was exceedingly satisfied with hifr 
 management, for he had improved a very large plantation of his 
 own at the same time ; however, I had the mortification to see two 
 or three of the Preston gentlemen there, who being prisoners of 
 war, were spared from the public execution, and sent over to that 
 slaverv, which, to gentlemen, must be worse than death. 
 
1^6 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 " During my stay here, I married a maid [ brought over from 
 England, who behaved herself for some time, extraordinary well, 
 but at last played the fool, and died; and I not liking to stay long 
 in a place where I was so much talked of, sent to one of my corres- 
 pondents for a copy of the general free pardon then granted, and 
 wherein it was manifest I was fully included. 
 
 " After I had settled my affairs, and left the same faithful steward, 
 I again embarked for England, and, after a trading voyage, (for 
 we touched at several places in our way,) I arrived safe, determin. 
 ing to spend the remainder of my life in my native country ; for 
 here I enjoy the moments which I had never before known how to 
 employ, and endeavour to atone, as far as possible, for the vices 
 of an ill-spent life. 
 
 " Perhaps when I wrote these things down, I did not foresee that 
 the writings of our own stories would be so much the fashion in 
 England or so agreeable to others to read, as I find custom, and 
 the humour of the times, have caused them to be. If any one that 
 reads my story pleases to make the same just reflections which I 
 ought to have made, he will reap the benefit of my misfortunes, 
 perhaps, more than I have done myself. It is evident, by the long 
 series of changes and turns which have appeared in the narrow 
 compass of one private mean person's life, that the history of men's 
 nves may be in many ways made useful and instructive to those who 
 read them, if moral and religious improvement and reflections are 
 made by those who write them." 
 
 CAPTAIN ZACHARY HOWARD. 
 
 Howard was a gentleman born and bred; he came to an estate in 
 Gloucestershire, of fourteen hundred pounds per annum, just about 
 the breaking out of the civil war in 1641 ; his father dying that 
 year. A sincere love of loyalty inspiring him to fight for his king, 
 he mortgaged his estate for twenty thousand pounds, with which 
 he raited a troop of horse for the service of Charles the First, who 
 gave him the command of them. He remained thus in the army 
 till the republican party became conquerors; when lie (with many 
 other cavaliers) was obliged to retire into exile. He, however, 
 returned to England, with King Charles the Second, on whom he 
 attended at Worcester fight, where he performed wonders, and was 
 even applauded by his Majesty. But, as it is well known, the 
 Parliamentarians triumphed. 
 
CAPTAIN HOWARD. 157 
 
 Howard remained in England; but having lost his estate, and 
 being out of all employment, he could devise no other way of sup- 
 porting himself, than by robbing on the highway : a very precarious 
 method indeed ; but what many great gentlemen in those days 
 were either obliged to adopt, or to want sustenance. 
 
 It is said of Howard, that when he resolved on this course of life, 
 he swore, like others of his contemporaries, that he would be re- 
 venged, as far as lay in his power, of all persons who were against 
 the interests of his royal master. Accordingly, he attacked all 
 whom he met, and knew to be of that party. 
 
 The first of whom he thus assaulted was the Earl of Essex, who 
 had been general in chief of the Parliament's forces. His lordship 
 was riding over Bagshot Heath, with five or six in retinue ; never- 
 theless, Zachary made boldly up to the coach-door, commanded the 
 driver to stand, and my lord to deliver; adding, — that if he did not 
 comply with his demand without ceremony, neither he nor any of 
 his servants, should be spared. It is unaccountable, how a general 
 always used to success, and having so many attendants, should be 
 terrified at the menaces of a single highwayman. But so it was ; 
 and his honour gave him twelve hundred pounds, which he had in 
 the coach, and which had been squeezed out of forfeited estates, 
 church lands, and sequestrations ; being unwilling to venture his 
 life for such a trifle, at a time when the party had such a plentiful 
 harvest to reap. Zachary was so well contented with this bootv, 
 that he let this nobleman pass on, with desiring him to get such 
 another sum ready against the next convenient meeting. 
 
 Another time he overtook, on Newmarket Heath, the Earl of 
 Pomfret, so famous for his ludicrous speeches in the House of Com- 
 mons, attended by only one footman. Zachary held his lordship in 
 discourse for about half a mile; when, coming to a convenient place, 
 he pulled out a pistol, and, with a volley of oaths, ordered him to 
 surrender that minute. " You seem," says the Earl, " by your 
 swearing, to be a ranting cavalier : have you taken a lease of your 
 .ife, sir, that you dare venture it thus against two men ?" Howard 
 answered, " 1 would venture it against two more, with your idol 
 Cromwell, at their head." M Oh," says Pomfret, " he is a precious 
 man, and has fought the Lord's battles with success!" — Zachary 
 replied, by calling Oliver and all his crew, a company of dastardly 
 cowards; putting his lordship in mind, also, that talking bred de 
 lays, and that delays were dangerous ! " Therefore," says he, 
 " out with your purse this moment, or I shall out with your soul — 
 if you have any." 
 
158 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 The earl, however, still delaying, Howard dismounted him, hy 
 shooting his horse, and then took from him a purse full of broad 
 pieces of gold, and a rich diamond ring ; then, making him mount 
 behind his man, he tied them back to back, and in that condition 
 left them. 
 
 Fairfax, who was also general of the Parliament army after 
 Essex, being with some forces in Northumberlandshire, happened 
 to take up his own quarters at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, at a tirfte 
 that Howard was at the same town. It came to the captain's w, 
 that Fairfax was about sending a man to his lady with some plate, 
 which had been presented to him by the mayor and aldermen of 
 that corporation ; so that when the day came that the fellow set out 
 with the prize, our highwayman also took leave of Newcastle, and 
 rode after the roundhead servant. He overtook him on the road, 
 and fell into deep discourse with him, about the present times, 
 which Howard seemed as well pleased with as the other ; who took 
 him really for an honest fellow, as he seemed, and offered still to 
 bear him company. They baited, dined, supped, and lay together, 
 and so continued in this friendly manner till the messenger came 
 within a day's journey of £he seat where his lady resided. Next 
 morning being the last day they were to be together, Howard 
 thought it high time to execute his design, which he did with a great 
 deal of difficulty. Being come to a proper place, Zachary pulled 
 out his commission, and commanded the fellow to deliver the port- 
 manteau, in which was the plate, to the value of two hundred and 
 fifty pounds. The other being as resolute to preserve, as Howard 
 was to take it from him, refused to comply ; whereupon a sharp 
 combat ensued, in which the Captain had his horse shot under him, 
 after a discharge of two or three pistols on either side. The en- 
 counter still lasted : for our highwayman continued to fire on foot, 
 till he shot his adversary through the head, which occasioned him 
 to fall, and breathe his last in a moment. 
 
 When Howard saw the man dead, he thought it his best way to 
 get off the ground as fast as possible; so nimbly mounting the 
 horse which carried the treasure, he rode about five miles from the 
 place where the fact was committed, and then deposited the port- 
 manteau in a hollow tree, and tranquilly went to dinner at the next 
 town. From thence he made the best of his way to Farringdon in 
 Berkshire, where Madam Fairfax was, and whither the fellow he 
 had killed was destined. He reached there that evening, and 
 delivered the following letter to the lady, which he found in the 
 pockets of the deceased : — 
 
CAPTAIN HOWARD. 159 
 
 •• Newcastle-upon-Tyne, Aug. 1650. 
 My dear, 
 
 Hoping that you and my daughter Elizabeth are in good 
 health, this comes to acquaint you that my presence is so agreeable 
 to the inhabitants of this place, that their mayor and aldermen 
 have presented me with a large quantity of plate, which I have 
 sent to you by my man Thomas, a new servant ; whom I would 
 have you treat very kindly, he being recommended to me by seve- 
 ral gentlemen, as a very honest, worthy man. The Lord be 
 praised, I am very well, and earnestly long for the happiness of 
 enjoying your company, which I hope to do within this month or 
 five weeks at farthest. In the mean time, 1 subscribe myself. 
 Your loving husband, till death, 
 
 Fairfax." 
 The lady, learning by the contents, that a parcel of plate had 
 been sent by the bearer, enquired of him where it was. Her sup- 
 posed man readily told her that he was in danger of being robbed 
 on such a heath, by suspicious persons ; and therefore, Jest he 
 should meet with the same men again, or others lik* 1 them, he had 
 lodged his charge in the hands of a substantial inn-keeper, at such 
 a town ; from whence he could fetch it in two davs. This afFectat ; on 
 of carelessness pleased his new mistress very much, and confirmed 
 the character which her husband had given him; so that she treated 
 him tenderly, and desired he would go to bed betimes, tnat he 
 might rest after the fatigue of travelling. 
 
 The whole family at this time consisted only of the lady, her 
 daughter, two maids, and two men servants. No sooner were all 
 these gone to repose, than Howard arose, dressed himself, and with 
 sword and pistol in hand, went into the servants' apartments, whom 
 he threatened with instant death if they made the least noise. He 
 tied all four with the bed cords, and then gagged them. He next 
 went to Mrs. Fairfax's chamber, and served her and her daughter 
 as he had done the servants. Having committed these vile acts, 
 and taken political revenge, he proceeded to make a strict scrutiny 
 into the trunks, boxes, and chests of drawers; in all which he found 
 two thousand broad pieces of gold, and some silver; when he rode 
 off for his portmanteau in the tree, which he also found, and car- 
 ried off. 
 
 Shortly after this, a proclamation was issued out by the Common- 
 wealth, promising five hundred pounds to any one who should 
 apprehend the offender; whereupon, to avoid being taken, Zachary 
 tied into Ireland, where he pursued his former courses; till being 
 
ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 grown as notorious there, as in England, he thought it advisable 
 to return. He landed at Highlake ; and came to the city of Chester, 
 at a time that Oliver Cromwell lay there with a party of horse, and 
 even put up at the same inn ; where he passed for a gentleman 
 going to travel into foreign countries for improvement. 
 
 He, moreover, counterfeited himself a Round-head, and frequent- 
 ly spoke against the royal family, highly applauding the murder of 
 King Charles the First. By this means, he got familiar with*^ 
 Cromwell, who was so pleased with his conversation, that he would 
 seldom dine or sup without this daring adventurer. 
 
 About a fortnight after this acquaintance between them had com- 
 menced, Howard went, one morning early, to pay old Noll (a nick- 
 name, bestowed at that period, on the Protector,) a visit in his 
 bed-chamber, which happened to be on the same floor with his own. 
 He found easy admittance; when Cromwell desired that he would 
 join in prayers with him. Zachary most cheerfully consented; but 
 no sooner was Cromwell on his marrow-bones, than he knocked 
 him still lower with the butt-end of a pistol, presenting it afterwards 
 to his breast, and swearing that, if he did but attempt to make tne 
 least noise, he would shoot him through the heart, thougn he wer«j 
 sure to be hanged for it the next minute on the landlord s sign- 
 post. 
 
 These terrifying words so panic-struck the republican . that he 
 permitted his assaulter to do what he pleased ; who, in good truth, 
 gagged and bound him hand and foot; after which, he rifled two 
 trunks, from whence he took about eleven hundred jacobusses; and 
 then, to satisfy his burning revenge, took a well filled pan of water 
 that stood in the room, and placed it topsy-turvy on the protector's 
 head, saying — " As, no doubt, thou aspirest to be king, thus do 1 
 crown thee, tyrant as thou art!" 
 
 Having finished, he went hastily down stairs, and mounted his 
 horse, which he had before ordered to be ready, under pretence of 
 some urgent business a few miles out of town. 
 
 By this means Howard got clear off, before Oliver could make 
 any body hear by his knocking. 
 
 At last, several of the family went up stairs, and were guided 
 by the noise to the poor general, whom they found in the miserable 
 pickle before described, and unable to stir. Some of them, at the 
 first sight thought he had put on his head piece ; till the water which 
 ran down his face and shoulders, convinced them to the contrary, 
 and induced them speedily to unbind him. 
 
 As soon as he was loose he fell on his knees, and gave thanks 
 
NATHANIEL HAWES. 161 
 
 for so signal a deliverance from the fury of a wicked cavalier ; for 
 such he believed Howard. 
 
 Our Captain enjoyed his liberty but a very little time after this 
 exploit ; for venturing, one day, to attack half a-dozen republican 
 officers together, as they were riding over Blackheath, he was over- 
 powered; and, though he vigorously defended himself, so as to 
 kill one, and wound two more, he was at last taken by the remain- 
 ing three. These were soon assisted by several passengers, who 
 joined in taking this bold robber before a magistrate; and he was 
 forthwith committed to Maidstone gaol. Thither Oliver went to 
 see and insult him ; but to all which Howard replied with his usual 
 bravery and wit, to the utter confusion of Noll. 
 
 On his trial at the ensuing assizes, evidences enough appeared 
 to convict him, although he had possessed twenty lives. Not only 
 the officers who took him, but even Cromwell, and General Fair- 
 fax's wife and daughter gave in their depositions, besides a vast 
 number of others whom he had robbed. So that he was sentenced, 
 for two murders, and numberless robberies, to be hung till he was 
 dead. 
 
 At the place of execution, apparelled in white, he confessed 
 himself guilty of everything laid to his charge ; but declared he 
 was sorry for nothing but the murders he had committed. Yet, 
 even these, he said, appeared to him the less criminal, when he 
 considered the persons on whom they were acted. He professed 
 further, that if he was pardoned, and at liberty again, he would 
 never leave off robbing the Round-heads, so long as there were any 
 of them left in England. 
 
 What was the most remarkable at Howard's death, was, his 
 smiling contemptuously on Oliver, who came into the country on 
 purpose to see the last of him ; saying, that, if he, Oliver, had met 
 his reward, he had been in the same circumstances several years 
 ago. 
 
 Howard made his final exit in 1651-2; being no more thacr 
 thirty-two years of age. 
 
 NATHANIEL HAWES. 
 
 We have this criminal's own authority for saying that he was the 
 son of a rich grazier in Norfolk, who dying in his infancy, the 
 child suffered the loss of a paternal inheritance, through the villaiav 
 
16? ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 of those who were entiusted as guardians. They, however, at 
 proper age, apprenticed Nathaniel to an upholsterer, with whom 
 he faithfully served the first four years : but at the end of that period, 
 finding a relish in the pleasures of libertinism, he greatly increased 
 his connexions with the vicious and the profligate of either sex : 
 and this unfortunate arrangement it was that drove him to the fatal 
 necessity of raising supplies beyond the limits of honour and 
 honesty. 
 
 His master naturally became the first sufferer; nor was he dis-' 
 covered for a considerable time ; till the largeness of his demands 
 induced him to dip so very deeply, that an explanation was at length 
 the unavoidable consequence. The shame and confusion which 
 attended this serious eclaircissement was quickly obliterated in the 
 haunts of licentiousness, whither he continued to repair, in spite 
 of his master's admonitions, and in defiance of his positive orders 
 to the contrary ; for Nat, when all other opportunities were shut 
 up, frequently arose, as soon as he conjectured that the family 
 were asleep ; and, unlocking the street door, repaired to his boon 
 companions, with whom he usually continued till within an hour 
 before the ascending sun silenced their nocturnal revels. 
 
 When vices of this kind obtain ascendancy over a young person, 
 in the progressive stages from sixteen to three or four and twenty 
 the consequences, without some fortunate intervention, are almost 
 always of a melancholy nature. Persuasion, and particularly ex- 
 ample, are the bane of rash and unguarded youth; who, after 
 stifling the first pangs which obtrude at the loss of character and 
 reputation, are incapable of seeing the turpitude of their trans- 
 actions ; transactions on which they had meditated with horror 
 while the mind was un vitiated. 
 
 We have already said enough of Hawes to prepare our readers 
 for the next event to be recorded in the sketch. Having now less 
 access to his master's property, he perpetrated a street robbery : 
 but was detected, and committed to prison, where he lay several 
 months, previous to the Assizes ; when he was found guilty : but, 
 in compassion to his youth, the Judge humanely granted him a 
 pardon. 
 
 It does not appear whether his master, or his guardians, exerted 
 their efforts, at this critical period, to bring about a change of 
 principle: but, for the sake of humanity, let us suppose that nei- 
 ther the one nor the other were, in this respect, deficient. Certain 
 however it is, that Nathaniel most grossly abused the lenity which 
 he had received from the Court, by almost instantly returning to 
 
NATHANIEL HA WES. 103 
 
 his old companions and to his old vices — Drinking, gaming, and 
 the society of abandoned women, forming the whole routine of 
 their happiness ; if that can be called happiness which produces 
 pain, vexation, disappointment, and disease ; to say nothing of 
 those imminent dangers which attend the raising of supplies. 
 
 Young Hawes was naturally vivacious, sprightly, and daring ; 
 qualities which endeared him to the females, and rendered him 
 useful to the other sex ; with whom he now undertook several ex- 
 cursions on the road, for the purpose of supplying demands, whose 
 magnitude would have perplexed less diligent financiers. Na- 
 thaniel's courage was often put severely to the test; and we must 
 do him the justice to say, that, in this respect, he greatly excelled 
 the stoutest of his coadjutors; who, unable to imitate, bestowed 
 on him the most preposterous commendation. By such means he 
 was easily prevailed upon to undertake any thing which they pro- 
 posed, however badly devised, or dangerously planned : and the 
 unfortunate youth, at length, became so ridiculously elate, that 
 he but too often grossly abused and injured those whom he 
 had so cruelly pilfered. 'This might probably arise,' says one of 
 his predecessors, 'from his whimsical notions!' Led on by these 
 whimsicalities, which doubtless comprehended an idea of invulner- 
 ability, Nathaniel Hawes hesitated not to attack singly a carriage 
 filled with gentlemen, whether armed or not; to stop, at the same 
 instant, two or three travellers on horseback ; or to rummage the 
 waggons in a successive line, as they passed the Oxford road to- 
 wards London : and, though now and then apprehended, the 
 county prisons were by no means strong enough to secure him till 
 the day of trial. In proportion, however, as he transferred the 
 theatre of spoliation nearer the metropolis, his dangers seem to 
 have multiplied: for, being committed to New Prison, on sus- 
 picion of robbing a gentleman on the Hampstead road, he found 
 that solemn receptacle constructed on different principles than 
 those gaols which he had formerly eluded. Like an experienced 
 General, he continued to reconnoitre, as long as hope or possibility 
 remained : but, by a kind of sympathy, contracting an acquaint- 
 ance with a female shop-lifter confined in the same place, that lady 
 communicated to Nathaniel and another, a feasible project for pro- 
 curing the invaluable blessings of liberty; and having, before 
 commitment, hid under her stays a variety of necessary imple- 
 ments, they one night proceeded from theory to practice ; when at 
 two in the morning, those determined enemies of coercion bid 
 adieu to the solitarv environs of Clerkenweil. 
 
164 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 Hawes, being in consequence reduced to a cutting state of pov 
 erty, committed a variety of depredations to supply the exigencies 
 of the moment; and, by degrees, arriving again at the dignity 0/ 
 highwayman, he repaired to Finchley Common, and robbed one 
 Richard Hall of four shillings and his horse. He was, however, 
 shortly afterwards apprehended for this fact, and securely lodged in 
 Newgate; where he affected the pomposity of a great man reduced 
 by the vicissitudes of Madam Fortune ; declaring he would con- 
 duct himself more nobly than any gentleman who had died at 
 Tyburn within the last seven years I But this kind of incoherent 
 expressions rather excited pity than admiration : it was vanity run 
 mad with vengeance ! 
 
 Nathaniel, when arraigned at the Old Bailey— in conformity to 
 his heroic declarations, — refused to plead, because a good suit of 
 clothes had been taken from him, by which means he could not 
 cut a respectable figure in the Court. And though the Judge re- 
 proved him in a pathetic speech, and laid down the consequences 
 of his refusal, our hero insultingly answered • That, instead of 
 justice, he was likely to receive injustice; but therefore doubted 
 not that they would, some time or other undergo a heavier sentence 
 than could be inflicted on him : — that, for his part, he looked on 
 death with disdain ; being determined to leave the world as cou- 
 rageously as he had lived in it !' 
 
 Nathan highly congratulated himself on this heroic effort; pri- 
 vately confessing to some Newgate friends, that he had complained 
 of the loss of his clothes in order to seize on a pretence for shewing 
 how excellently he merited the character of an intrepid hero, that 
 Gentlemen of the Road, in succeeding ages, might pay the just 
 tribute due to his memory. Under this very laudable impression, 
 he actually sustained on his breast a weight of two hundred and 
 fifty pounds upwards of seven minutes, all that time admiring what 
 had been related of the indifference of a certain French lacquey, 
 who danced a minuet just before he expired on the wheel ! a cir- 
 cumstance which excited universal astonishment in France, and 
 stimulated the Due de Rochfoucault, though very ridiculously, to 
 make a comparison between that criminal and the Roman Patriot 
 Cato! 
 
 Hawes, when seven minutes had expired, fearing that a longer 
 perseverance would rob him of that popularity which he expected 
 to derive at the gallows, consented to plead ; when the weight was 
 accordingly removed : but the inward bruises which resulted, gaV6 
 him such excessive pain, that Nathan, in some sort, laid that 
 
TOM ROWLAND AND FRANK OSBORN. 165 
 
 greatness aside which he purposed to be observed. He nevertne- 
 less, heard his sentence pronounced with firmness ; confessed, 
 afterwards, some of the numerous villanies committed by him; 
 particularly two or three in which innocent persons were implicated : 
 attended the Chapel devotions, contrary to general expectation ; 
 and made exit at Tyburn in September 1721, when scarcely twenty 
 years of age ! — Let us drop the tear of pity on his fate ; and 
 leave the reader of feeling to make his own comments on the de- 
 pravity of human nature, and the high degree of weakness and 
 vitiation which it is possible for the mind of mortals to obtain ! 
 
 TOM ROWLAND AND FRANK OSBORN. 
 
 The first of these notorious malefactors was born at Ware, in 
 Hertfordshire, and, by his parents, was put an apprentice to a 
 bricklayer; but after he had served his time, being of a slothful 
 and idle disposition, he kept such company as soon brought him to 
 follow evil courses; and to support his extravagancy in a most 
 riotous way of living, he stole a horse out of the Duke of Beau- 
 fort's stables, at his seat at Badminton, in Gloucestershire ; and 
 then going on the highway, he committed several most notorious 
 robberies for above 18 years ; but he always robbed in woman's 
 apparel, which disguise was the means of his reigning so long in 
 his villainy. Whenever he was pursued, he then rid astride ; but 
 at last being apprehended in this unlawful habit, for robbing a 
 person on Hounslow-heath, of a quantity of bone-lace, to the 
 value of 1,200£. sterling, he was condemned for this fact, and found 
 guilty also upon another indictment preferred against him for rob- 
 bing another person, near Barnet, of eighty-four pounds nine shill- 
 ings. He was executed at Tyburn, on Friday, the 24th of October, 
 1699, aged 40 years. 
 
 At the same place, were hanged Mercy Harvey, for murdering 
 her bastard male child, by cutting it into very small pieces: 
 Anne Henderson, a Scotch woman, for stealing a silver tankard; 
 Bryant Cane, for felony and burglary, in breaking open the house 
 of Mr. Baker, at Mary-le-bone, and robbing it, and gagging him 
 and all the servants in his family ; John Dowbridge, a butcher, for 
 stealing a mare ; Jane Eaton, aged nineteen, and Catherine Jones, 
 for breaking the house of one John Prescot, and stealing from 
 
166 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 thence goods of great value. The following persons, viz. — Peter 
 Vallard, a Frenchman, Thomas Rogers, and Thomas Castle, alias 
 Cassey, were drawn on a sledge to Tyburn, were the two first were 
 hanged and quartered for clipping and coining; but the other 
 criminal, the night before his exeoution, so far obtained their 
 majesty's clemency, as to be but only hanged. 
 
 Frank Osborn was born of very good friends at Colchester, in 
 Essex, who putting him apprentice to a goldsmith in Lombard- 
 street, in London, he very truly and honestly served out his ap- 
 prenticeship, and then set up his trade himself in Cannon-street, in 
 the City, where he followed it for seven years ; but he had not been 
 his own master above two years, when getting into very loose com- 
 pany, who all bred him to drunkenness and gaming, he ran very 
 much behind hand, and contracted several debts ; which coming 
 thick upon him, to make his creditors easy he went on the highway; 
 and meeting once with the Earl of Albemarle in his coach and six 
 horses, between Harwich and Manningtree, in the county of Essex, 
 with four footmen and two gentlemen on horseback to attend 
 him, besides the coachman and postillion, he attempted, with only 
 one person more, to rob his lordship. So, whilst his comrade 
 stopped the coach-horses, he rode up to his lordship, and demanded 
 his money. The attendants seeing the insolence of these bold 
 robbers, who being but two, they thought it would seem a great 
 piece of cowardice if they did not engage them; whereupon one of 
 the gentlemen firing first, all the rest began, even the very coach- 
 man and postillion too, who had pistols in their pockets. Now the 
 shot flying about the highwaymen's ears very thick, whilst the earl 
 also discharged a blunderbuss out of his coach, but without doing 
 any execution, they also fired as fast as they could, but with better 
 aim and better success : for in discharging of about eight pistols, 
 they shot both the horses of the two gentlemen dead, wounded two 
 of the footmen very desperately, and the postillion, with the fore- 
 horse on which he rode. Then riding up to the earl again, they 
 grossly abused him with ill language, and threatened to shoot him 
 through the head unless he presently delivered what he had, he 
 gave them a purse, in which was 130 guineas, a gold watch, a dia- 
 mond ring, a pair of diamond buckles, and a gold snuff-box. But 
 whilst they were rifling a trunk that was tied on the coach-box, six 
 or seven officers of the army rode up towards them, when Frank 
 Osborn and his comrade made the best of their way off; but when 
 those gentlemen came up with the Earl of Albemarle, and were 
 informed of the robbery, thev made such close pursuit after the 
 
TOM ROWLAND AND FRANK OSBORN. 167 
 
 robbers that they were forced to ride into Manningtree river, in 
 which one of them was drowned, and also his horse ; but Frank 
 swam safe over into the county of Suffolk, and went straight to 
 London without any discovery. 
 
 Another time Frank Osborn meeting with the late Duke of New- 
 castle, when his grace was but Earl of Clare, on the road to Nott- 
 ingham, riding up to his coach, and most courteously pulling off 
 his hat, quoth he, ** My lord, having heard from several creditable 
 persons, what a charitable peer your honour is, in distributing 
 your generous alms among decayed gentlemen ; and it being my 
 misfortune, through many losses and crosses in the world, to be 
 reduced to a state poorer than even Job was in his greatest calami- 
 ty, I humbly make bold to implore your lordship's benevolence, 
 for which I shall be ever grateful the longest day I have to live." 
 Now, this nobleman being not to be tongue-padded out of his 
 money, he in a very angry mood said to Frank, " Prithee, fellow, 
 don't stand talking to me of charitable alms and benevolence, for 
 I know not what you mean by those canting words ; therefore, go 
 about your business, for, indeed, I have nothing at all for myself 
 scarce, and much less for beggars." Quoth Frank again, " I am 
 not, Sir, such a mean sort of a beggar as your lordship perhaps may 
 take me to be ; for what people will not give me by fair means, I 
 always takeaway by foul ones." So pulling out a pistol, and pre- 
 senting it to his lordship's breast, he farther said, " unless your 
 lordship presently deliver your money, expect nothing but present 
 death, for 1 will certainly shoot you through the body upon the 
 very least refusal." So taking four hundred pounds out of his 
 coach and wishing his lordship a good journey, he rode away with 
 his booty. 
 
 He reigned about five years in this villainous practice, without 
 the least mistrust among his neighbours, who took him for a very 
 honest man, because he carried himself with the greatest circum- 
 spection imaginable ; but at last he and three other highwaymen, 
 setting upon a nobleman on Hounslow-heath k who had a great 
 retinue with him, they made such an obstinate and resolute resis- 
 tance against them, that they took Frank Osborn; but his other 
 accomplices made their escape, whom he would never discover to 
 the very last gasp. Being committed to Newgate, and condemned 
 for this attempt, whilst he lay under sentence of death, he shewed 
 not much penitence for the wicked courses he had took, but would 
 often say, that he was very sorry that he had disgraced so good and 
 ingenious a profession as his was ; and on Friday the 12th of Sep- 
 
168 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 tember, 1690, he was executed at Tyburn, aged 29 years. Also 
 on the same day were executed with him William Goff, a trooper, 
 who served the late King James and King William, for robbing on 
 the highway; Thomas Yarrold, a husbandman, born at Ampthill- 
 town, in Bedfordshire, for stealing a gelding; John Daynter, a 
 shoe-maker, for breaking into the house of Mr. Yates, and stealing 
 thence a silver tankard, a dozen of silver spoons, and twenty-one 
 pounds in money; and James Smith, for robbing a gentleman i*i 
 the highway of twenty-eight guineas and two gold rings. When 
 he was tied up in order to receive the sentence of death, he ex- 
 ceedingly misbehaved himself in court, by calling the Judges, the 
 ^ora-Mayor, and Recorder, most opprobious names, and swearing 
 propnane oaths, in which wicked obstinancy he continued till he 
 was hanged. 
 
 JAMES WHITNEY. 
 
 In general, the biographers of rogues and vagabonds give theii 
 heroes a title to wit and ingenuity very far beyond the abilities of 
 the scoundrels they record; to this, in a great measure, is owing 
 the difficulty of finding out, and appreciating as they merit, genuine 
 anecdotes of the characters delineated. If any man becomes dis- 
 tinguished by crime, a hundred stories are immediately put in 
 circulation, attributing matters to his invention, to which he was 
 not only incompetent, but absolutely a stranger to the very cir- 
 cumstances related. 
 
 One of this description appears to have been James Whitney, who, 
 in addition to his own depredations, has the credit of many he never 
 probably committed. He was born at Stevenage, in Hertfordshire, 
 and, when fit for servitude, was apprenticed to a butcher, with whom 
 he continued until the expiration of his time ; but no sooner did he 
 become his own master, than he gave way to a very irregular course 
 of life. 
 
 Going with another butcher to Romford, in Essex, in order to 
 buy calves, they met with one they had a particular fancy to; but 
 the owner demanded what they thought an extravagant price for it, 
 so that they could not strike a bargain; however, as the man kept 
 a public-house, our companions agreed to go in and drink with him. 
 They were much vexed at not being able to purchase the calf, when 
 
JAMES WHITNEY. 169 
 
 Whitnev suddenly proposed the stealing of it, to which the other 
 consenting, they sat drinking till night. 
 
 In the evening, a fellow came into the town with a great she-bear, 
 which he carried about for a show, and put up at the house where 
 the two butchers were drinking in an inner room ; the landlord was 
 some time before he could contrive where to lodge the bear, but at 
 last he resolved to move the calf into another out-house, and tie 
 madam Bruin up in his place, which was done accordingly, without 
 the knowledge of Whitney and his friend, who continued drinking 
 till they were told it was time to go to bed. Upon this warning they 
 paid their reckoning, and went out, staying in the fields near the 
 town till they imagined the time favoured their design. The night 
 was very dark, and they came to the stall without making any noise 
 or disturbance ; Whitney was to go in and fetch out the calf, while 
 the other watched without; when he entered he felt about, till he 
 got hold of the bear, which lying after the sluggish manner peculiar 
 to those creatures, he began to tickle it to make it rise ; at last, 
 being awaked, the beast being muzzled, rose up on her hind legs, 
 not knowing but it was her master going to show her; Whitney 
 still continued feeling about, wondering at the length of the calf's 
 hair, and that he should stand in such a posture, till the bear cau ht 
 hold of him and hugged him fast between her fore-feet. 
 
 In this posture he remained, unable to remove, and afraid to cry 
 out, till the other butcher, wondering at his long stay, put his head 
 in at the door, and said, with a low voice, M What the plague, will 
 you be all night stealing a calf!" " A calf I" quoth Whitney, " I 
 believe it is the devil that 1 am going to steal, for he hugs me as 
 closely as he does the witch in the statue." " Let it be the devil," 
 says t'other; " bring him out, however, that we may see what he 
 is like, which is something I should be very glad to know." Whit- 
 ney was too much surprised to be pleased with the jesting of his 
 companion, so that he replied with some choler, " Come and fetch 
 
 him yourself for may I be d d if I half like him." Hereupon 
 
 the other entered, and, after a little examination, found how they 
 were bit. By his assistance Whitney got loose, and they both 
 swore they would never attempt to steal calves any more. 
 
 Whitney, after this, took the George Inn, at Cheshunt, in Hert- 
 fordshire, where, for a time, he entertained all sorts of bad com- 
 pany ; but this speculation not answering, in a little time he was 
 compelled to shut up his house, and retreat to London, where he 
 began to practice every sort of fraud and villainy. It was some 
 time before he took to the highway, following only the common 
 
170 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 tricks practised by the sharpers of the town, in which he was the 
 more successful, as he always went dressed like a gentleman. 
 
 One morning, as Whitney stood on Ludgate-hill, at a mercer's 
 door, waiting for a friend whom he expected to come by, two ladies 
 of the town came along; these ladies took our gentleman for the 
 master of the shop, and supposing he would be an easy dupe, 
 asked him if he had any fine silks of the newest fashion; Whitney 
 readily replied, " that he had none by him at present he could*, 
 recommend ; but, in a day or two's time, he should have choice, 
 several weavers being to bring him in pieces, made from the last 
 fashions brought up, and begged to know where he might have the 
 honour to wait on them with samples," to which one of the ladies 
 replied, " that being newly come to town, they did not remember 
 the name of the street; but it was not far off, and if he pleased to 
 go with them, they would show him their habitation." Whitney 
 politely consented, and, to make the affair appear with a better 
 face, he stepped into the shop, as if he went to give orders to the 
 shopman, to whom he only put a few trifling questions, and came 
 out again unsuspected. Having accompanied the ladies home, he 
 very civilly offered to take his leave of them. " Nay r Sir," says 
 one of them, " but you shall walk in and take a glass of wine with 
 us, since you have been so good as to give yourself all this trouble." 
 Whitney thanked them, and, with abundance of complaisance, 
 accepted the invitation. 
 
 Hitherto both parties were deceived; Whitney really took them 
 for gentlewomen of fortune, and came home with them only to learn 
 something that might forward him to make a prey of them; and they 
 as confidently believed him to be the mercer, who owned the shop 
 at which they picked him up. Their designs were to get his money 
 out of his pocket, and, if they could, a suit or two of silk into the 
 bargain. What confirmed them in this opinion was, the notice he 
 took of several gentlemen as he passed along the street, by pulling 
 off his hat to them, and their returning the compliment. — Whitney 
 did it for this very purpose, and it is natural and common for men 
 of fashion to return the salutation of those who notice them. 
 
 The ladies introduced the supposed mercer into an apartment 
 splendidly furnished, where the table was instantly spread with a 
 fine cold collation. This being over, the servant and one of the 
 ladies withdrew, leaving the other alone with our adventurer, who 
 soon discovered the drift of her ladyship; but, willing to keep on 
 the mask, after many amorous professions, promised her as much 
 silk as would make her a complete dress. 
 
JAMES WHITNEY. 171 
 
 Whitney was so well pleased with his adventure and reception at 
 tnis place, that he was resolved, if possible, to have a little more 
 enjoyment, and to that end went to a mercer, and told him, that 
 sucn a lady had sent him, to desire that he would send one of his 
 men with two or three pieces of the richest silk he had, for her to 
 choose a gown and petticoat. The mercer knowing the person of 
 quality he named, she having been his customer before, and without 
 mistrusting any thing, sent a youth, who was but newly come 
 apprentice, telling him the prices in Whitney's hearing. Our 
 adventurer led the lad through as many bye-streets as he could, in 
 order to carry him out of his knowledge, till observing a house in 
 Suffolk-street, which had a thoroughfare into Hedge-lane, he desired 
 the young man to stay at the door, while he carried in the silks to 
 shew them to the lady, who lodged there; the youth very readily 
 agreed, and Whitney went into the house, and asked the people 
 for somebody whom they did not know ; and, upon their telling him 
 no such person lived in that neighbourhood, he desired leave to go 
 through, which was granted, and he got clear off with his prize, 
 which he immediately carried to his two ladies, and divided between 
 them. After which, he revelled with them in all manner of excess 
 for several days, and then withdrew himself. 
 
 He was resolved, however, that nobody but himself should enjoy 
 the fruit of his industry, and since he could not have the profit of 
 his cheat, he thought proper to restore the mercer his goods again. 
 He therefore wrote a letter as to where the women lived, and the 
 shop-keeper, getting a warrant and constable, went and found the 
 silks in their possession ; all the excuse they could make, as to re- 
 ceiving them from the real owner, availed nothing ; they were hurried 
 before a magistrate, who committed them to Tothill-fields Bride- 
 well, where their backs were covered with stripes of the cat-and- 
 nine-tails, instead of the eleemosynary silks, which they made so 
 sure of. 
 
 Whitney had now become a confirmed highwayman, and meeting 
 a gentleman on Bagshot-heath, he commanded him to stand and 
 deliver, to which the other replied, " Sir> His well you spoke first; 
 for 1 was just going to say the same thing to you." " Why, are 
 you a gentleman thief then?" quoth Whitney. " Yes," said the 
 stranger, " but I have had very bad success to-day." Whitney 
 upon this wished him better luck, and took his leave, really suppos- 
 ing him to be what he pretended. At night it was the fortune of 
 Whitney and this person to put up at the same inn, when our gen- 
 tleman told some other travellers by w»hat stratagem he had escaped 
 
172 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 being robbed on the road. Whitney had so altered his habit and 
 speech, that the gentleman did not know him again ; so that he 
 heard all the story without being taken any notice of. Among other 
 things, he heard him tell one of the company softly, that he had 
 saved an hundred pounds by his contrivance. The person to whom 
 he had whispered this, was going the same way the next morning, 
 and said, he had also a considerable sum about him, and, if he 
 pleased, should be glad to travel with him for security. S 
 
 When morning came, the travellers set out, and Whitney about 
 a quarter of an hour after them ; all the discourse of the gentlemen 
 was about cheating the highwayman, if they should meet any. 
 When Whitney, at a convenient place, had got before them and 
 bid them stand, the gentleman whom he met before not knowing 
 him, he having disguised himself after another manner, briskly 
 cried out, " We were going to say the same to you, Sir." " Were 
 you so ?" quoth Whitney, " and are you of my profession then ?" 
 " Yes," said they both, " If you are," replied Whitney, " I sup- 
 pose you remember the old proverb, two of a trade can never agree, 
 so that you must not expect any favour on that score. But to be 
 plain, gentlemen, the trick will do no longer ; 1 know you very 
 well, and must have your hundred pounds, Sir; and your consider- 
 able sum, Sir," turning to the other, " let it be what it will, or I 
 shall make bold to send a brace of bullets through each of your 
 heads. You, Mr. Highwayman, should have kept your secret a 
 little longer, and not have boasted so soon of having outwitted a 
 thief; there is now nothing for you to do, but deliver or die!" 
 
 These terrible words put them both into a sad consternation: they 
 were loth to lose their money, but more loth to lose their lives : so 
 of two evils they chose the least, the tell-tale coxcomb disbursing 
 his hundred pounds, and the other a somewhat larger sum, profess- 
 ing that they would be careful for the future not to count without 
 their host. 
 
 Another time, Whitney met with one Mr. Hull, an old usurei, 
 in the Strand, as he was riding across Hounslow-heath. He could 
 hardly have chosen a wretch more in love with money ; and, con- 
 sequently, who would have been more unwilling to have parted 
 with it. When the dreadful words were spoken, he trembled like a 
 paralytic, and fell to expostulating the case in the most moving 
 expressions he was master of, professing that he was a very poor 
 man, had a large family of children, and should be utterly ruined, 
 if he was so hard-hearted as to take his money from him. He added, 
 moreover, the illegality of such an action, and hoy very dangerous 
 
JAMES WHITNEY. 173 
 
 it was to engage in such evil courses. Whitney, who knew him, 
 tiled out in a great passion : " Sirrah, do you pretend to preach 
 morality to an honester man than yourself; you who make a prey of 
 all mankind, and grind to death with eight and ten percent. This 
 once, however, Sir, I shall oblige you to lend me what you have 
 without bond, consequently without interest; so make no more 
 words." 
 
 Old Hull, hereupon, pulled out about eighteen guineas, which 
 he gave with a great deal of grumbling; telling him withal, that 
 he should see him one time or another ride up Holborn-hill back- 
 wards. Whitney was going about his business till he heard these 
 words, when he returned, and pulled the old gentleman off his 
 horse, putting him on again with his face towards the horse's tail, 
 and tying his legs; c< Now," says he, " you old rogue, let me see 
 what a figure a man makes when he rides backwards, and let me 
 have the pleasure, at least of beholding you first in that posture." 
 So giving the horse three or four good cuts with his whip, he set 
 him a running so fast, that he never stopt till he came to Hounslow 
 town, where the people loosed our gentleman, after they had made 
 themselves a little merry with the sight. 
 
 Whitney always affected to appear generous and noble; meeting 
 one day with a gentleman on Newmarket-heath, whose name was 
 Long, and having robbed him of a hundred pounds in silver, which 
 was in his portmanteau, tied up in a great bag, the gentleman told 
 him, that he had a great way to go, and, as he was unknown upon 
 the road, should meet with many difficulties, if he did not restore 
 as much as would bear his expences. Whitney opened the mouth 
 of the bag, and holding it to Mr. Long, " Here," says he, " take 
 what you have occasion for." Mr. Long put in his hand, and took 
 out as much as he could hold : to which Whitney made no opposition, 
 but only said with a smile, " I thought you would have had more 
 conscience, Sir." 
 
 Coining once to Doncaster, he put up at the Red Lion Inn, and 
 made a great figure, having a pretty round sum in his possession. 
 While he resided here, he was informed that the landlord of the 
 house was reputed rich, but withal so covetous, that he would do 
 nothing to help a poor relation or neighbour in distress. On this 
 Whitney set his wits to work, and gave out that he had a good 
 estate, and travelled about the country merely for his pleasure, and 
 io artfully insinuated himself into the good opinion of his host, that 
 he ran most plentifully into his debt, both for his own accommoda- 
 tion, and the keep of his horse. 
 
174 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 It happened that whiie he remained here, there was an annual 
 fair held; upon the fair-day, in the morning, a small box, carefully 
 sealed, and very weighty, came directed to him. He opened it, 
 took out a letter, which he read, and locked it up, and gave it to 
 his landlady, desiring her to keep it in her custody for the present, 
 because it would be safer than in his own hands, and ordered the 
 landlord, at the same time, to write out his bill, that he might pay 
 him the next morning ; as soon as he had done this, he went oufcf, 
 as though to see the fair. In the afternoon he came home again, 
 in a great hurry, and desired his horse might be dressed and saddled, 
 he having a mind to show him in the fair, and, if he could, to ex- 
 change him for one he had seen, and which he thought was the 
 finest that ever he fixed his eyes on. " I will have him," says he, 
 " if possible, whether the owner will buy mine or not, although 
 he cost me forty guineas;'* he then asked for his landlady to help 
 him to his box, but she was gone to the fair; whereupon he fell a 
 swearing like a madman, that he supposed she had locked up what 
 he gave her, and taken the keys with her ; " If she has," quoth he, 
 " I had rather have given ten guineas, for I have no money at all, 
 but what is in your possession." Enquiry was made, and it was 
 found to be as he said, which put him into a still greater passion, 
 though it was what he wished for, and even expected, the whole 
 having been invented for the sake of this single scene. 
 
 The landlord quickly had notice of our gentleman's anger, and 
 the occasion of it; upon which he comes to him, and begs of him to 
 be easy, offering to lend him the sum he wanted, till his wife came 
 home. Whitney seemed to resent it highly, that he must be obliged 
 to borrow money when he had so much of his own ; however, as 
 there was no other way, he condescended, with abundance of reluc- 
 tance, to accept the proposal; adding, that he desired an account 
 of all he was indebted as soon as possible, as it was not his custom 
 to run hand over head. 
 
 Having received forty guineas, the sum he pretended to want, 
 he mounted his horse, and rode towards the fair, but instead of 
 dealing there for another horse, he spurred his own through the 
 crowd, as fast as he could conveniently, and made the best of his 
 way towards London. At night the people of the inn sat up very 
 late for his coming home, nor did they suspect any thing the first, 
 or even the second night, but at the end of two or three days the 
 landlord was a little uneasy; and, after he had waited a week to 
 no purpose, it came into his head to break open the box, in order 
 to examine it. With this view he went to the magistrate of the 
 
THE WALTHAM BLACKS. 175 
 
 place, procured his warrant, and, in presence of a constable and 
 other witnesses, broke open the casket, and was ready to hang 
 himself when he found the contents to be nothing but sand and 
 stones. 
 
 This was, however, the last of Whitney's adventures, for not 
 long after his arrival in town he was apprehended in White Friars, 
 upon the information of Mother Cozens, who kept a notorious house 
 in Milford-lane, over against St. Clement's Church. The magis- 
 trate, who took the information, committed him to Newgate, where 
 he remained till the next sessions at the Old Bailey. Being brought 
 to trial, and found guilty, the Recorder passed sentence of death 
 on him, and exhorted him to a sincere repentance, as it was impos- 
 sible for him to hope for a reprieve, after such a course of villainies; 
 and, on Wednesday, the 19th of December, 1694, he was carrier 
 to the place of execution, which was at Porter's Block, near Smith- 
 field, where he addressed the people in the following words: — 
 
 " I have been a very great offender, both against God and my 
 Country, by transgressing all laws, human and divine. I believe 
 there is not one here present, but has often heard my name, before 
 my confinement, and have seen a large catalogue of my crimes, 
 which has been made public since; — why should I then pretend to 
 vindicate a life stained with so many enormous deeds ? — The sen- 
 tence passed on me is just, and I can see the footsteps of a provi- 
 dence, which I had before profanely laughed at, in my apprehension 
 and conviction. I hope the sense which I have of these things has 
 enabled me io make my peace with heaven, the only thing that is 
 now of any concern to me. Join in your prayers with me, my 
 dear countrymen, that God would not forsake me in my last, mo- 
 ments." Having spoke thus, and afterwards spent a few moments 
 in private devotion, he was turned off, being about thirty-four years 
 of age. 
 
 A portrait of this celebrated highwayman, seated in prison, en- 
 graved at the time, is now become extremely rare and valuable. 
 It has been copied in Caulfield's Memoirs of Remarkable Persons, 
 Vol. I. page 57. From the portrait, he appears to have been a 
 remarkably gentlemanly good looking young man. 
 
 THE WALTHAM BLACKS. 
 
 In the years 1722 and 1723, a singular set of beings, uuaet .ne 
 denomination of Waltham Blacks, annoyed the peace of society. 
 
176 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 the laws, then, being ^adequate to the punishment of these ui- 
 fenders. It originated from a partiality which some of the lower 
 orders entertained for venison; an article which, as this banditti 
 could not purchase, they resolved to obtain by force. 
 
 At length, these convivial societies so far increased, that the 
 members scoured the country in armed troops, having their faces 
 blackend by way of honorary distinction and also to terrify such 
 game-keepers, and others, who would not civilly administer to 
 their demands, whether for venison, wine, money, or any neces-» 
 sary that was calculated to increase the hilarity of their stated 
 meetings. 
 
 Threatening letters were also dispatched to several individuals, 
 who had shewed a reluctance to contribute towards the joys of the 
 table. This grievance at length grew so intolerable, that the 
 Legislature was constrained to frame an act particularly directed 
 to the remedy of these abuses ; and rendering the crime capital, 
 which these gentry committed, without benefit of Clergy. 
 
 Several, and among them some apparently unfortunate persons, 
 were in consequence apprehended ; and among whom, the follow- 
 ing suffered death. — Richard Parvin, master of a public-house at 
 Portsmouth, who owned that he was on the King's Forest at the 
 time stated in the indictment, but declared that his business there 
 had no reference to deer-stealing ; which, he said, he could have 
 proved by witnesses, if his family had not been reduced to poverty, 
 by the seizure and confiscation of all his goods and effects, when 
 first taken into custody ; in consequence of which he could not de- 
 fray the expences of bringing persons from Berkshire. 
 
 He strenuously insisted on his innocence, even under the gal- 
 lows; and eagerly directed his eves in expectation of a reprieve, 
 till the pressure of the rope extinguished his hopes and his life 
 together. Edward Elliot, a youth about seventeen, and son of a 
 tailor who resided near Guildford, was the next who suffered He 
 said, in defence, that about a year preceding that time, thirty or 
 forty men met and carried him away, in the county of Surrey, by 
 force; one of them saying, he was enlisted into the service cf the 
 King of the Blacks, and that therefore he must disguise his face 
 conformable to their custom; and obey orders of whatever kind, 
 whether to rob and destroy fish-ponds, burn woods, or shoot deer. 
 If he failed, or proved treacherous, they promised to convert him 
 into a four-footed animal by their magic art. 
 
 During his continuance with this banditti, the boy said tut he 
 had witnessed several instances of their witchcraft: once, ;j Dai- 
 
THE WALT HAM BLACKS. 177 
 
 ticalar, two men who had offended against the laws and manners, 
 were covered up to their chins in earth, when a whole posse set on 
 them like so many dogs, barking and bellowing in their ears in tne 
 most horrible strains : when, on promising not to offend the Black 
 Nation again, they were at last liberated, having previously re- 
 ceived some very salutary cautions. 
 
 Edward Elliot being out with a small deer-stealing party, at 
 Farnham Holt, had wandered from his companions in pursuit of a 
 fawn, when he was surprised, taken, and bound by the keepers, 
 who then left him to pursue the others. 
 
 A smart action shortly commenced ; in which a servant belong- 
 ing to Lady Howe was shot, one of the plunderers wounded in the 
 thigh, and two others taken. This miserable youth, who left a 
 good place for so abandoned a course of life, died full of penitence 
 and contrition. 
 
 Robert Kingsmill, taken in the fray just mentioned, was but 
 twenty-six years of age ; and was seduced from his parents' house 
 the preceding night only by an acquaintance, after the family, and 
 even himself, had retired to bed. An unlucky adventure, which 
 terminated in his death. 
 
 Henry Marshall, about thirty-six years of age, was the person 
 who shot the keeper ; as related in the sketch of Edward Elliot. 
 This fellow seemed to glory in his villainy ; made light of his mur- 
 derous conduct ; and demanded to know, if he had not a right to 
 stand on his own and companion's defence ? 
 
 John and Edward Pink, carters in Portsmouth, were always 
 accounted extremely honest, till they imbibed a predilection for 
 venison. These brothers, like many of the rest, could not be per- 
 suaded that they had committed any wickedness in the eyes of 
 God : deer being wild animals, they could not see by what equit- 
 able right the rich could claim an exclusive property in them ! 
 
 James Ansell, the seventh and last of these unhappy wretches, 
 was a villain by profession; and, in all likelihood, would have 
 found his road to the gallows, if the Black Association had never 
 been instituted. All of them, except this more hardened villain, 
 were so much terrified at the prospect of death, and so greatiy 
 exhausted by sickness, that they were scarcely able to stand up, 
 or speak, at the place of execution : some of the spectators even 
 affirmed, that the life was departed ere Mr. Ketch proceeded to nis 
 melancholy office. It is highly probable, however, that these mis* 
 puidt-d, inconsiderate men were only — as a French poet says — 
 ** Dead in fancy, from a serious fear." 
 N 
 
178 ENbUSH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 The following letter written bv a Country Gentleman to 1j»s 
 friend in London, at the time, and, as it were, on the spot, is the 
 best elucidation of this singular event that can possibly be given 
 to our Readers : — 
 
 1 Amongst the odd accidents which you know have happened to 
 me in the course of a very unsettled life, I don't know any which 
 has been more extraordinary, or surprising, than one I met with 
 in going down to my own house, when I left you last in town. You 
 cannot but have heard of the Waltham Blacks, as they are called^" 
 a set of whimsical merry fellows, that are so mad to run the greatest 
 hazards for the sake of a haunch of venison, and passing a jolly 
 evening together. For my part, though the stories told of these 
 people have reached my ears, yet I confess I took most of them for 
 fables ; and thought that, if there was truth in any of them, it was 
 much exaggerated: but experience, (the mistress of fools) has 
 taught me the contrary, by the adventure I am going to relate; 
 which, though it ended well enough at last, I confess at first put 
 me a good deal out of humour. 
 
 1 To begin, then : — My horse got, some way, a stone in his foot, 
 and therewith went so lame just as I entered the forest, that 1 really 
 thought his shoulder slipped : finding it however, impossible to get 
 him along, 1 was even glad to take up with a little blind ale-house, 
 which I perceived had a yard and stable behind it. The man of 
 the house received me very civilly, but when he perceived my horse 
 was so lame, as scarcely to be able to stir a step, I observed he 
 grew uneasy. I asked him whether I could lodge there that night; 
 for I was resolved not to spoil a horse which cost me twenty guineas, 
 by riding him in such a condition. The man made no answer ; we 
 went into the house together; when 1 proposed the same question 
 to the wife. She dealt more roughly and freely with me ; saying, 
 that truly I neither could nor should stay there, and was for hurry 
 ing her husband to get my horse out ; however, on putting a crown 
 into her hand, and promising her another for my lodging, she 
 began to consider a little; and, at last, told me that there was 
 indeed a little bed above stairs, on which she would order a clean 
 pair of sheets to be put; for she was persuaded 1 was more of a 
 gentleman than to take any notice of what was passing there. 
 This made me more uneasy than I was before. I concluded DOW 
 that I had got into a den of highwaymen, and expected nothing 
 less than to be robbed, and have my throat cut into the bargain ; 
 however, finding there was no remedy, I even sat myself down, 
 end endeavoured to be as easy as I could By this time . aad 
 
THE WALTHAM BLACKS. ril 
 
 become very dark ; and I heard three or four horsemen alight and 
 lead their horses into the yard. 
 
 * As tne men returned, and were coming into the room where I sat, 
 I overheard my landlord exclaiming, * Indeed, brother, you need 
 not be uneasy; I am positive the gentleman's a man of honour!' 
 To which I heard another voice reply, ' what good could our deaths 
 do a stranger? Faith I don't apprehend half the danger that you 
 do. I dare say the gentleman would be glad of our company, and 
 we should be pleased with his. Come, hang fear ! I'll lead the 
 way.' 
 
 1 So said, so done : in they came, five of them, all disguised so 
 effectually, that I declare, unless it were in the same disguise, I 
 should not be able to distinguish any one of them. Down they sat; 
 and he, who I supposed was constituted their captain pro hac vice, 
 accosted me with great civility, asking if I would honour them with 
 my company to supper ? 1 acknowledged I did not yet guess the 
 profession of my new acquaintances ; but supposing my landlord 
 would be cautious of suffering either a robbery or a murder in his 
 own house, I knew now how, but, by degrees, my mind grew per- 
 fectly easy. 
 
 * About ten o'clock, I heard a very great noise of horses, and soon 
 after of men's feet trampling in a room over my head ; then my 
 landlord came down, and informed us, supper was just ready to go 
 upon the table. 
 
 * Upon this, we were all desired to walk up ; and he, whom I be 
 fore called the Captain, presented me, with a humorous kind of 
 ceremony, to a man more disguised than the rest, who sat at the 
 upper end of the table ; telling me, at the same time, he hoped I 
 would not refuse to pay my respects to Prince Oroonoko, King 
 of the Blacks ! It then immediately struck into my head, who those 
 worthy persons were, into whose company I had thus accidentally 
 fallen. I called myself a thousand blockheads in my mind for not 
 finding it out before; but the hurry of things, or to speak truth, 
 the fear I was in, prevented my j udging even from the most evident 
 signs. 
 
 1 As soon as this awkward ceremony had been ended, supper was 
 brought in, which consisted of eighteen dishes of venison in every 
 shape; roasted, boiled with broth, hashed collups, pasties, umble 
 pies, and a large haunch in the middle, larded. The table we sat 
 at was very large, and the company in all twenty-one persons : at 
 each of our elbows there was set a bottle of claret ; and the man 
 and woman of the house sat down at the lower end. Two or three 
 
180 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 of the fellows had got natural voices, and so the evening was spent 
 as merrily as the rakes past theirs at the King's Arms, or the City 
 apprentices with their master's maids at Sadler's Wells. 
 
 " About two, the company seemed inclinable to break up, having 
 first assured me that they should take my company as a favour any 
 Thursday evening, if I came that way. I confess I did not sleep 
 all night with reflecting on what had passed; and could not resolve 
 with myself whether these humorous gentlemen in masquerade wer^ 
 to be ranked under the denomination of knights-errant, or plain 
 robbers. This I must tell you, by the bye, that, with respect both 
 to honesty and hardship, their life resembles much that of hussars, 
 since drinking is all their delight, and plundering their employ- 
 ment. 
 
 " Before I conclude my epistle, it is fit I should inform you, that 
 they did me the honour (with a design perhaps to have received me 
 into their order) of acquainting me with those rules by which their 
 society was governed. In the first place, the Black Prince assured 
 me, ' that the government was perfectly monarchical ; and that, 
 when upon expeditions, he had an absolute command ; but in the 
 time of peace, (continued he) and at the table, government being 
 no longer necessary, I condescend to eat and drink familiarly 
 with my subjects as friends. 
 
 " We admit no man into our society, till he has been twice drunk 
 among us, that we may be precisely acquainted with his temper, 
 in compliance with the old proverb ; ' Women, children, and drun- 
 ken folks, speak truth !' but if the person who sues to be admitted, 
 declares solemnly he was never drunk in his life, and it appears 
 plainly to the society, in such case this rule is dispensed with, and 
 the person before admission is only bound to converse with us a 
 month. 
 
 " As soon as we have determined to admit him, he is then to equip 
 himself with a good mare or gelding, a brace of pistols, and a gun 
 of the size of this, to be on the saddle-bow ; then he is sworn upon 
 the horns over the chimney; and having a new name conferred 
 « y the society, is thereby entered upon the roll, and from that day 
 forward, considered as a lawful member. I shall only remark one 
 thing more, which is, the phrase we make use of in speaking of 
 one another; viz. ' He is a very honest fellow, and one of us;' 
 far you must know it is the first article in our creed, that there'i 
 no sin in deer-stealing.' 
 
 " In the morning, having given my landlady the crown piece, I 
 found her temper so much altered for the better, that, in my con- 
 
TIMOTHY BUCKELEY. 181. 
 
 icience, I believe she was not in the humour to have refused me 
 toy thii.g, no, not even the last favour: and so walking down the 
 yard, and finding my horse in pretty tolerable order, I speeded 
 directly home, as much in amazement at the new people I had dis- 
 covered, as the Duke of Alva's huntsmen when they found an un- 
 discovered people 5n Spain, by following their master's hawk over 
 the mountains." 
 
 It may, perhaps, be necessary to remark, that the evil was not 
 wholly eradicated by the executions already related. Several young 
 men, who were not in the least seduced by necessity, supported, 
 for some few months afterwards at the expense of their lives, the 
 character of this Black Society or Nation : more than one keeper 
 was killed in various conflicts which took place; and several families 
 were involved in ruin, by circumstances intimately connected with 
 these very unhappy transactions. 
 
 TIMOTHY BUCKELEY. 
 
 Tim was reared to the useful occupation of a shoemaker, but leaving 
 his master, he came to London, and soon found out companions 
 suited to his disposition. He and his associates frequented an ale- 
 house at Wapping; and one day being run short of cash, Tim 
 asked the landlord for ten shillings, which he refused. Tim was 
 so exasperated, that, along with some of his associates, he broke 
 into his house, and bound him, his wife, and maid. Whilst Tim 
 was about this operation, the landlord conjured him to be favourable. 
 " No, no, you whose prodigality makes you lord it over the people 
 here like a boatswain over a ship's crew, must not expect any favour 
 from my hands ; but 1 shall go to another part of the town, where 
 I shall be more civilly used, and spend a little of your money 
 there." Accordingly, Tim and his companions robbed the house 
 of forty pounds, three silver tankards, a silver watch, and three 
 gold rings. 
 
 Upon another day Tim was airing at Hyde-park-corner, and met 
 with Dr. Catesby, the famous mountebank. At the words " Stand 
 and deliver !" the doctor went into a long harangue about the hones- 
 ty of his calling, and of the great difficulty with which he made a 
 living. Tim laughed heartiJy, saying, " Quacks pretend to honesty! 
 .here is not such a pack of cheating knaves in the nation. Their 
 
182 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 impudence is intolerable for deceiving honest simple people, arr\ 
 pretending that more men were not slain at the battle of the Boyue. 
 than they have recovered from death, or beckoned their souls back 
 when they have been many leagues from their bodies ; therefore, 
 deliver! or this pistol shall put a stop to your further ramblings and 
 deception." The doctor preferring his life to his gold, presented 
 Tim with six guineas, and a watch, to show him how to keep time 
 while spending the money, 
 
 Tim was once apprehended by a baker, in the character of a* 
 constable, and sent to Flanders as a soldier. He deserted, and 
 returning to London, one day met the baker's wife. He presented 
 a pistol, and demanded her money ; she exclaimed, " Is this justice 
 or conscience, sir!" " Don't tell me of justice, for I hate her as 
 much as your husband can, because her scales are even ! And as 
 for conscience, I have as little of that as any baker in England, 
 who cheats other people's bellies to fill his own! — Nay, a baker is 
 a worse rogue than a tailor; for, whereas the latter commonly 
 pinches his cabbage from the rich, the former, by making his bread 
 too light, robs all without distinction, but chiefly the poor, for which 
 he deserves hanging more than I, or any of my honest fraternity." 
 Then, taking from her eleven shillings and two gold rings, he sent 
 her home to relate her adventure to her husband. 
 
 Tim next stealing a good horse, commenced busiuess upon the 
 highway, and meeting with a pawnbroker by whom he lost some 
 articles, he commanded him to stand and deliver. The pawnbroker 
 entreated for favour, saying " that it was a very hard thing that 
 honest people could not go about their lawful business without 
 being robbed." " You talk of honesty, who live by fraud and 
 oppression ! — your shop, like the gates of hell is always open, in 
 which you sit at the receipt of custom, and having got the spoils of 
 the needy, you hang them up in rank and file, like so many trophies 
 of victory. To your shop all sorts of garments resort, as on a pil- 
 grimage. Thou art the treasurer of the Thieves' Exchequer, for 
 which purpose you keep a private warehouse from whence you ship 
 them off wholesale, or retail, according to pleasure. Nay, the 
 poor and the oppressed have often to pay their own cloth, before 
 they can receive them back by your exorbitant exactions. Come, 
 come, blood-sucker, open your purse-strings, or this pistol shall 
 send you where you are sure to go sooner or later." The poor pawn- 
 broker ransomed his life at the expense of twenty-eight guineas, a 
 gold watch, a silver box, and two gold rings. 
 
 Upon another occasion, Tim fortunately met with a stock-jobber 
 
THOMAS JONES. 1% 
 
 (vcho hod prosecuted him for felony,) and robbea him of forty-eignt 
 guineas. He requested something to carry him home. Tim refused, 
 saving:, " I have no charity for you stock-jobbers, who rise and 
 faA nKe the ebbing and flowing of the tide, and whose paths are 
 as unfathomable as the ocean. The grasshopper in the Roya*. 
 Exchange is an emblem of your character. What give you some- 
 thing to carry you home out of the paltry sum of forty-eight guineas! 
 I won't give you a farthing." He then bade him farewell until 
 next meeting. 
 
 Though unexpected and unwished, it was not long before the 
 stock-jobber reconnoitered Tim, and caused him to be apprehended 
 and committed to Newgate. He was tried, and received sentence 
 of death; but obtaining a reprieve, and afterwards a pardon, he 
 was determined to be revenged of the man who would not give him 
 rest to pursue his honest employment; he therefore set fire to a 
 country-house belonging to him. To his no small chagrin, however, 
 it was quenched before much harm was done. 
 
 Tim then went to Leicestershire, broke into a house, seized 
 eighty pounds, purchased a horse, and renewed his former mode 
 of life. Thus mounted he attacked a coach in which were three 
 gentlemen, and two footmen attending. Tim's horse being shot 
 under him, he killed one of the gentlemen and a footman, but being 
 overpowered, was committed to Nottingham gaol, and suffered the 
 due reward of murder and roooery, at the age of Twenty-nine, 
 and in the year 1701. 
 
 THOMAS JONES. 
 
 Tom was a native of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, his father was a 
 clothier, whose business he followed until he was two-and-twenty 
 years of age. In that period, however, the prominent dispositions 
 of his mind were displayed by extravagance, and running into 
 debt. In order, therefore, to retrieve his circumstances, he went 
 upon the highway. 
 
 Out of gratitude for his father's kindness, he commenced by 
 robbing him of eighty pounds and a good horse. Unaccustomed 
 to such work, he rode, under the impression that he was pursued, 
 and in danger of being taken, no less than forty miles. Arriving 
 in Staffordshire, he attacked and robbed the stage coach of a con- 
 
m ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 siderable booty. During the scuffle, several snots viem lit«a 
 the passengers, but no injury was done. 
 
 A. monkey belonging to one of the passengers, being tiedbtmno 
 the coach was so frightened with the firing, that he broke his cnaio 
 and ran for his life. At night, as a countryman was coming over 
 a gate, pug leaped out of the hedge upon his back, and clung very 
 fast. The poor man, who had never seen such an animal, imagined 
 that he was no less a person than the devil; and when he came 
 home, thundered at the door. His wife looked out at the window* 
 and asked him what he had got. " The devil!" cried he, and 
 entreated that she would go to the parson, and beg his assistance. 
 " Nay," quoth she, " you shall not bring the devil in here. If 
 you belong to him, I don't ; so be content to go without my com- 
 pany." Poor Hob was obliged to wait at his door, until one of 
 his neighbours, wiser than the rest, came, and with a few apples 
 and pears, dispossessed him of the devil, and got him for his pains. 
 He accordingly carried him to the owner, and received a suitable 
 reward. 
 
 Tom's next adventure was with a Quaker, who formerly kept a 
 Dutton shop, but, being reduced in his circumstances, he was going 
 down to the country, to avoid an arrest. In this situation he was 
 more afraid of a bailiff than a robber. Therefore, when Tom took 
 hold of him by the coat, broadbrim very gravely said, " At whose 
 suit dost thou detain me?" — " I detain thee on thy own suit, and 
 my demand is for all thy substance." The Quaker having dis- 
 covered his mistake, added, " Truly, friend, I don't know thee, 
 nor can I indeed imagine that ever thee and I had any dealings 
 together." — " You shall find then," said Jones, " that we shall 
 deal together now." He then presented his pistol. " Pray, neigh- 
 bour, use no violence, for if thou earnest me to gaol, I am 
 undone I have fourteen guineas about me, and if that will satisfy 
 thee thou art welcome to take them. Here they are, and give 
 me leave to assure thee, that I have frequently stopped the mouth 
 of a bailiff with a much less sum, and made him affirm to my 
 creditors that he could not find me." Jones received the money, 
 and replied, " Friend, 1 am not such a rogue as thou takest me to 
 be : I am no bailiff, but an honest generous highwayman." — " I 
 shall not trouble myself," cried the Quaker, " about the distinction 
 of names: if a man takes my money from me by force, it concerns 
 me but little what he calls himself, or what his pretences may be 
 for so doing." 
 
 At another time Tom met witn Lord and Lady Wharton, and 
 
Page 185.. 
 
ARTHUR CHAMBERS. 185 
 
 tf* ^ph they had three men attending, demanded their charity in 
 his fcsual style. His lordship said, " Do you know me, sir, tnat 
 yew dare be so hold to stop me upon the road ?" — " Not I ; I neither 
 know nor care who you are. I am apt to imagine that you are some 
 great man, because you speak so big ; but, be as great as you will, 
 sir, £ must have you to know, that there is no man upon the road 
 so great as myself; therefore, pray be quick in answering my de- 
 mands for delays may prove dangerous." Tom then received two 
 Hundred pounds, three diamond rings, and two gold watches. 
 
 Upon another day, Tom received intelligence that a gentleman 
 was upon the road with a hundred pounds. He waited upon the 
 top of the hill to welcome his approach. A steward of the gentle- 
 man discovered him, and suspecting his character, desired that the 
 money might be given to him, and he would ride off with it, as the 
 robber would not suspect him. This was done ; Tom came forward, 
 stopped the coach, and the gentleman gave him ten pounds. He 
 was greatly enraged, and mentioned the sum that he knew the 
 gentleman carried along with him. In an instant, however, sus- 
 pecting the stratagem, he rode after the steward with all possible 
 speed ; but the latter observing him in pursuit, increased his pace 
 and reached an inn before Tom could overtake him. 
 
 After many similar adventures, Tom was apprehended for robbing 
 a farmer's wife. He was so habituated to vice, that nothing but 
 the gallows could arrest his course, and in the forty-second year of 
 his age, he met with that fate, on the 25th April, 1702. 
 
 ARTHUR CHAMBERS. 
 
 Arthur Chambers was of low extraction, and destitute of 
 every amiable quality. From his very infancy he was addicted to 
 pilfering; and the low circumstances of his parents being unable 
 to support his extravagances, he had recourse to dishonest practices. 
 It is even reported, that before he was dressed in boy's clothes, he 
 committed several acts of theft. 
 
 The first thing which he attempted, was to learn, from an ex- 
 perienced master, all those cant words and phrases current among 
 pickpockets, by which they distinguished one another. Chambers 
 was soon an adept in this new language; and being well dressed 
 he was introduced to the better sort of company, and took occasion, 
 rhen such opportunities offered, to rob his companions. 
 
186 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 In a short time he v»as confined in Bridewell, to answer w»li- 
 hard labour for some small offence. Having obtained his liberlv 
 he left the town, where he again began to be suspected, and went 
 to Cornwall. His social turn gained him a reception in gentee* 
 companies, and he became a memorable character in the place. 
 Before he left London, he provided himself with a large quantity 
 of base crowns and half-crowns, which he uttered wherever he went. 
 After many had been deceived, strict search was made, and Cham- 
 bers detected. For this offence he was committed to gaol, where 
 he remained a year and a half. 
 
 As he could no longer abide in Cornwall, he returned to London. 
 Upon his arrival he went to an alehouse, and called for a pot of 
 beer and a slice of bread and cheese. Having refreshed himself, 
 he entered into conversation with some persons in a neighbouring 
 box. The conversation turned upon the superior advantages of 
 a country life, but was insensibly directed to that of robbery. 
 Chambers, improving the hint, regretted that no better provision 
 was made for suppressing such villainies ; for added he, death is 
 too scarce a punishment for a man even if he robbed the whole 
 world. " But why do I talk thus ?" he continued ; " if great offend- 
 ers are suffered, well may the poor.and necessitous say, we must 
 live, and where is the harm of taking a few guineas from those who 
 can spare them, or who, perhaps, have robbed others of them ? 
 For my own part, I look upon a dexterous pickpocket as a very 
 useful person, as he draws his resources from the purses of those 
 who would spend their money in gaming, or worse. Look ye, 
 gentlemen, I can pick a pocket as well as any man in Britain, and 
 yet, though I say it, I am as honest as the best Englishman breath- 
 ing. Observe that country gentleman passing by the window there, 
 I will engage to rob him of his watch, though it is scarcely five 
 o'cIock.' 
 
 A wager of ten shillings was instantly taken, and Chambers 
 hastened after the gentleman. He accosted him at the extremity 
 of Long Lane, and pulling off his hat, asked him if he could 
 inform him the nearest way to Knave's acre. The stranger replied, 
 that he himself wished to know the way to Moorfields, which 
 Chambers pointed out; and while the other kept his eyes fixed 
 upon tne places to which he directed him, he embraced an oppor- 
 tunity to rob him of his watch, and hastening back to the alehouse, 
 threw down his plunder, and claimed the wager. 
 
 He next exerted his ingenuity upon a plain countryman, newly 
 come to town. This rustic had got into the company of sharpers, 
 
ARTHUR CHAMBBR8. 1ST 
 
 &nd stoed gazing at a guming-table. Our adventurer stepping up, 
 tapped him on the shoulaer, and enquired what part of the country 
 he came from, and if he was desirous to find a place as a gentle- 
 man's servant. Robin answered, that it was his very errand to 
 town, to find such a place. Chambers then said, that he could fit 
 him to a hair. " I believe I can afford you myself four pounds 
 a-year standing wages, and six shillings a week board wages, and 
 all cast clothes, which are none of the worst." This was sufficient 
 to make Robin almost leap out of his skin, for never before had 
 such an offer been made to him. Having arranged every thing to 
 his wish, Robin entered upon his new service. He received 
 Chambers' cloak, threw it over his arm, and followed his master. 
 Chambers ordered a coach, and Robin being placed behind, they 
 drove off to an inn. Dinner being ordered, Robin sat down with 
 his master, and made a hearty meal, the former in the mean while 
 instructing him in all the tricks of the town, and inculcating the 
 necessity of his always being upon his guard. He informed him 
 also, that the servants of the inn would be requesting him to join 
 in play at cards, and that he was in danger of being imposed upon 
 therefore, if he had any money upon him, it would be proper to 
 give it to him, and he would receive it back when necessary 
 Robin, accordingly, pulled out his purse, and delivered all that he 
 had, with which Chambers paid his dinner, and went off, leaving 
 Robin to shift for himself, and to lament the loss of his money and 
 his new master. 
 
 The next adventure of Chambers was directed against the inn- 
 keeper of the Greyhound, St. Alban's. His wife was rather 
 handsome, and exceedingly facetious ; and Chambers being often 
 there, was on terms of the greatest familiarity with the household. 
 Directing his steps thither, and pretending to have been attacked 
 by three men near the inn, he went in with his clothes all besmear- 
 ed. The travellers who were in the inn condoled with him on his 
 misfortune, and gave him a change of clothes until his own should 
 be cleaned. To make amends to himself for this sad disaster, he 
 invited six of his fellow-travellers, with the landlord and his wife, 
 to supper. The glass circulated pretty freely, and the wife enter- 
 tained them with several appropriate songs. Chambers was careful 
 that her glass never remained long empty. In a short time he saw 
 with pleasure that all his companions, with the solitary exception 
 of the landlord, were sunk in the arms of sleep, and he proposed 
 that they should be conveyed to bed; whereupon two or three 
 stout fellows came to perform that office. Chambers was so obliging 
 
♦88 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 as to lend his assistance, out took care that their money and wato. 
 ihould pay for his trouble. 
 
 Left alone with the landlord, he proposed that they should have 
 an additional bottle. Another succeeded before the landlord was 
 in a condition to be conveyed to rest. In aiding the servants witn 
 the corpulent innkeeper, he discovered the geography of his bed- 
 room, and finding that the door was directly opposite to his own, 
 he retired, not to rest, but to plot and perfect his villainy. 
 
 When he was convinced that the wine would work its full effect 
 upon the deluded pair, he revisited the bedchamber, waited some 
 time, and extracted what property he could most conveniently 
 carry away; by the dawn of day dressed himself in the best suit 
 of clothes which his bottle companions could afford, called for the 
 horse of the person whose clothes he now wore, left two guineas 
 with the waiter to pay his bill, gave half-a-crown to the ostler, and 
 rode off for London. 
 
 His first enterprise after his arrival was attacking an Italian 
 merchant upon the Exchange. He took him aside, eagerly en- 
 quired what goods he had to dispose of, and, entering into conver- 
 sation, one of Chambers's accomplices approaching joined the 
 conversation. Meanwhile, our adventurer found means to extract 
 from his pocket a large purse of gold and his gold watch, which 
 he delivered to his accomplice. Not satisfied with his first success, 
 and observing a silk handkerchief, suspended from his pocket, he 
 walked behind him to seize it, but was detected in the act, and 
 kept fast hold of by the merchant, who cried out lustily, " Thief! 
 thief!" In this dilemma, Chambers's accomplice ran to the crier, 
 and requested him to give public proclamation, that if any body 
 had lost a purse of gold, upon giving proper information it would 
 be restored. With the expectation of finding his money again, 
 the merchant let go his hold ; and, in the crowd, Chambers and 
 his friends retired with their booty. 
 
 But Chambers was now resolved to perform an action worthy of 
 his talents. He hired the first-floor of a house, and agreed with 
 the landlord for 14s. a week. Having, in the first instance, been 
 mistaken for a man of fortune, both from his appearance and style 
 of living, a mutual confidence was gradually established. When 
 his plot was matured, he one day entered, with a very pensive and 
 sorrowful look, the apartment of his landlord, who anxiously in- 
 quired the cause of his great uneasiness; when Chambers, with 
 tears in his eyes, informed him, that he had just returned from 
 Hampstead, where he had witnessed the death of a beloved brother 
 
ARTHUR CHAMBERS. 
 
 who had left him his sole heir, with an express injunction to convey 
 his dear remains to Westminster Abbey. He therefore entreated 
 the favour of being allowed to bring his brother's remains at a cer- 
 tain hour to his house, that from thence they might be conveyed 
 to the place of their destination, which very reasonable request 
 was readily granted by his unsuspecting landlord. 
 
 Chambers went off the next morning, leaving word, that the 
 corpse would be there at six o'clock in the evening. At the ap- 
 pointed hour, the hearse, with six horses, arrived at the door. An 
 elegant coffin, with six gilded handles, was carried up-stairs, and 
 placed upon the dining-room table, and the horses were conveyed 
 by the men to a stable in the neighbourhood. They informed the 
 landlord, that Chambers was detained on business, and would 
 probably sleep that night in the Strand. 
 
 That artful rogue was, however, confined in the coffin, in which 
 hair holes had been made, the screw-nails left unfixed, his clothes 
 all on, with a winding-sheet wrapped over them, and his face 
 blanched with flour. All the family were now gone to bed, except 
 the maid-servant. Chambers arose from his confinement, went 
 down stairs to the kitchen wrapped in his winding-sheet, sat down, 
 and stared the maid in the face, who, overwhelmed with fear, cried 
 out, " A ghost ! a ghost?" and ran up-stairs to her master's room, 
 who chid her unreasonable fears, and requested her to return to 
 bed and compose herself. She, however, obstinately refused, and 
 remained in the room. 
 
 In a short time, however, in stalked the stately ghost, took his 
 seat, and conferred a complete sweat and a mortal fright upon all 
 three who were present. Retiring from his station when he deemed 
 it convenient, he continued, by the moving of the doors, and the 
 noise raised through the house, to conceal his design : in the mean 
 time, he went down stairs, opened the doors to his accomplices, 
 who assisted him in carrying off the plate, and every thing which 
 could be removed, not even sparing the kitchen utensils. The 
 maid was the first to venture from her room in the morning, and 
 to inform her master and mistress of what had happened, who, 
 more than the night before, chid her credulity in believing that a 
 ghost could rob a house, or carry away any article out of it. In a 
 little time, however, the landlord was induced to rise from his bed, 
 and to move down stairs, and found, to his astonishment and 
 chagrin, that the whole of his plate, and almost the whole of his 
 moveables, were gone, for which he had only received in return 
 an empty coffin. 
 
190 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 A great many other stories of the like nature are told of Cham- 
 bers ; and it is well known, that for the few years he was permitted, 
 by singular good fortune, to go at large, he committed as many 
 artful and daring actions as were ever accomplished by one man. 
 
 At length, however one Jack Hall, a chimney-sweeper, being 
 apprehended, to save his own life, made himself an evidence against 
 Chambers, who, being cast upon that information, was, with two 
 other notorious offenders, executed at Tyburn, in 1703, in the % 
 twenty-eighth year of his age. 
 
 JOHN OVET. 
 
 Jack Ovet was born at Nottingham, and, after serving an ap- 
 prenticeship to a shoemaker, for some time, gained his bread 
 by that industrious and useful employment : but his licentious dis- 
 position inclining him to profligate and abandoned company, he 
 soon took to the highway. 
 
 After having purchased a horse, pistols, and every necessary 
 utensil proper to his projected profession, he rode towards London, 
 and on the way robbed a gentleman of 20/. That gentlemau, 
 however, not destitute of courage, and unwilling to part with his 
 money, told Ovet, that if he had not taken him unawares, he would 
 not so soon have plundered him of his property. The son of Cris- 
 pin was not destitute of the essential qualifications of his new 
 profession; he, therefore, replied, that he had already ventured 
 his life for his 20/. ; " But," continued he, " here's your money 
 again, and whoever is the better man, let him win it and wear it." 
 The proposal being agreed to, and both employing their swords, 
 the gentleman fell, and Ovet had the money. 
 
 But having now stained his hands with blood, it was not Long 
 before he killed another man in a quarrel. He, however, escaped 
 from justice, and continued his depredations. One day, being 
 greatly in want of money, and meeting one Rogers with tome 
 pack-horses, he turned one of them off the way, opened the pack, 
 and extracted about two hundred and eighty guineas, with three 
 fiozen of silver knives, forks, and spoons. Then, tying the horf* 
 to a tree, he made off with the spoil. 
 
JOHN OVET. 191 
 
 Another ame, Jack Ovet, drinking at the Star Inn, in the Strand, 
 overheard a soap-boiler contriving with a carrier how he should send 
 1001. to a friend in the country. At length, it was concluded upon 
 to put the money into a barrel of soap ; which project was mightily 
 approved of by the carrier, who answered, " If any rogues should 
 rob my waggon, (which they never did but once,) the devil must 
 be in them if they look for any money in the soap-barrel. Accord 
 ingly, the money and soap were brought to the inn, and next 
 morning, the carrier going out of town, Jack Ovet overtook him 
 in the afternoon, and command mg him to stop, or otherwise he 
 would shoot him and his horses too, he was obliged to obey the word 
 of command. Then, cried the honest highwayman, " I must make 
 bold to borrow a little money out of your waggon : therefore, if 
 you have any, direct me to it, that I may not lose any time, which 
 you know is always precious." The carrier told him, he had 
 nothing but cumbersome goods in his waggon, that he knew of; 
 however, if he would not believe him, he might search every box 
 and bundle there, if he pleased. 
 
 Ovet soon got into the waggon, and threw all the boxes and 
 bundles about, till, at last, he came to the soap-barrel, which feel- 
 ing somewhat heavy, said he to the carrier, " What do you do 
 with this nasty commodity in your waggon ? I'll fling it away " 
 So throwing it on the ground, the hoops burst, out flew the head, 
 and the soap spreading abroad, the bag appeared: then jumping 
 out of the waggon, and taking it up, said he again, " Is not he that 
 sells this soap a cheating rascal, to put a bag of lead into it, to 
 make the barrel weigh heavy ? If I knew where he lived, I'd go 
 and tell him my mind. However, that he may not succeed in his 
 roguery, I'll take it and sell it at the next house I come to, for it 
 will wet one's whistle to the tune of two or three shillings." 
 
 He was going to ride away, when the carrier cried after him, 
 " Hold, hold, sir! that is not lead in the bag; it is a hundred 
 pounds, for which (if you take it away) I must be accountable." 
 1 No, no I" replied Jack Ovet, " this cannot be money; but if it 
 is, tell the owner that I will be answerable for it if he will come to 
 me." " Where, sir," said the carrier, " may one find you ?" 
 " Why, truly," replied Jack, " that is u question soon asked, but 
 not so easily to be answered; the best direction I can give is, it is 
 likely that you may find me in a gaol before night, and then 
 perhaps, you may have again what I have taken from you, and Jony 
 pounds to boot " 
 Auotner time Jack Ovet, meeting with the Worcester stagre-coach 
 
192 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN, 
 
 on the road, in which were several young ladies, he robbed th«*rr. 
 all ; but one of them being a very handsome person, he was strueK 
 with admiration, and when he took her money from her, saia, 
 " Madam, cast not your eyes down, neither cover your face with 
 those modest blushes ; your charms have softened my temper, and 
 I am no longer the man I was; what I have taken from you 
 (through mere necessity at present) is only borrowed; for as no 
 object on earth ever had such an effect on me as you, assjire 
 yourself, that, if you please to tell me where I may direct to you, 
 I will, upon honour, make good your loss to the very utmost." 
 The young lady told him where he might send to her; and then 
 parting, it was not above a week after that Jack sent a letter to her 
 who had gained such an absolute conquest over his soul that his mind 
 ran now as much upon love as robbery. 
 
 Unfortunately, however, the sentimental attachment of our too 
 susceptible highwayman was doomed to suffer a defeat; and still 
 more unfortunately, he was quite as unsuccessful in his profession t 
 for, committing a robbery in Leicestershire, where his comrade wa* 
 killed in the attempt, he was closely pursued by the county, ap- 
 prehended, and sent to gaol; and at the next Leicester assizes 
 condemned. Whilst under sentence of death, he seemed to fee' 
 no remorse at all for his wickedness, nor in the least to repent o 
 the blood of two persons, which he had shed. So being brought to 
 the gallows, on Wednesday the fifth of May, 1708, he was justly 
 hanged in the thirty-second year of his age. 
 
 CAPTAIN EVANS. 
 
 The title of captain did not belong to our hero. He was 
 a native of South Wales, and his father, who was an innkeeper 
 gave him a good education, and bound him apprentice to an attor- 
 ey. This business did not suit the natural bent of the Captain's 
 temper, and having an opportunity of occasional conversation witn 
 the gentlemen of the road, he fell in love with their honourable 
 profession. 
 
 It was not long before he became the most dexterous robber in 
 those parts, and soon acquired considerable wealth. One day 
 Evans was being conducted to Shrewsbury gaol under a stmny 
 guard, vtuh bis legs tied below his horse. One of his guards hud 
 
CAPTAIN EVANS. lJU 
 
 a fine fowling-piece, loaded, and Evans espying a pheasant perched 
 ujoon a tree, with a deep sigh informed his comrades how dexterous 
 he used to be in shooting at such a mark ; and requested that he 
 might be favoured with the piece, that he might show his skill in 
 bringing down the bird. The simple fellow complied with his re- 
 quest ; but no sooner was the captain in possession of the gun, than 
 he turned upon his guards, and swore a volley of oaths that he 
 would firetmpon them if they moved a step farther. He then re- 
 treated to a convenient distance, and commanded one of them who 
 was best mounted to come towards him, to alight from his horse, 
 deliver up his pistols, and untie his legs. This being done, he 
 mounted the fine gelding, leaving his small pony in his stead, and 
 took leave of his guides. 
 
 Arriving in London, he, after some time, became clerk to Sir 
 Edmund Andrews, governor of Guernsey, and continued in that 
 station for three or four years. But the return of an annual salary 
 was too dilatory for the patience of Evans ; he, therefore, left that 
 employment, and repairing to London assumed the character of a 
 merchant or ship captain ; and having dressed his younger brother 
 in livery, employed him as his servant. 
 
 In this assumed character he committed several notorious rob* 
 beries in the vicinity of London. But his most daring robbery 
 was an attack upon Mr. Harvey of Essex in the day time. That 
 gentleman was riding home from St. Paul's cathedral in his coach, 
 when Evans commanded him to surrender, and took from him a 
 diamond ring and a considerable sum of money. 
 
 Upon another occasion the captain encountered a writing-master 
 and his wife, and imperiously demanded their money, which they 
 obstinately refused. To punish their obstinacy he rifled them of 
 what money they had; then upon pain of death commanded them 
 to strip themselves, and tying them together, bound them to a tree, 
 and left them in that situation. 
 
 In one of his rambles, accompanied by his brother accomplices, 
 he attacked a member of Parliament on Bagshot Heath, riding in 
 a coach and six with three other gentlemen ; there were also four 
 on horseback, well armed, besides three footmen, a coachman and 
 postilion. Suspecting Evans and his companions to be robbers, 
 they prepared to receive them, and several shots were exchanged 
 with no other injury than shooting the horse upon which William, 
 the captain's brother, rode. To save farther blood, Evans and the 
 gentleman drew their swords, and engaged in single combat. 
 Evans soon disarmed the squire, but gallantly returned his sworu, 
 
 
l»i ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 contenting himself with a good horse for his brother, and unit 
 money they chose to give him as a free donation. For this- generous 
 behaviour, that gentleman afterwards endeavoured to save Evans's 
 life. 
 
 One day, the captain meeting Nugent, a bricklayer, whose bulk 
 resembled that of a giant, our hero was at first alarmed ; but ap- 
 proaching nearer, commanded him to stand and deliver, and there- 
 upon searching his pockets, robbed him of a watch, and sevente*n 
 or eighteen shillings of money, which having converted to his own 
 use, he went to seek a richer booty. 
 
 The following was one of the most remarkable of the adventures 
 of Evans and his brother; upon the road to Portsmouth, they met 
 a band of constables, conducting about thirty poor fellows whom 
 they had impressed. Evans asked the reason why they were led 
 like captives and tied together. The officers informed them that 
 these men were for the king's service, and that they had ten shill- 
 ings for each man. He highly commended them for doing their 
 duty, and rode forward. At a convenient place, he and his brother 
 attacked them with such fury, that they rescued the prisoners and 
 stripped the officers of every shilling. Nor did this suffice, for 
 they bound them neck and heels, and left them in an adjacent field. 
 At another time, the captain met with one Cornish, an informer 
 upon Finchley Common. He saluted him in his usual phrase, 
 '* Stand and deliver, or you are a dead man !" Poor Cornish trem- 
 bled like an aspen leaf, and begged that he would save his life, 
 informing him, at the same time, that if he robbed hiin he was 
 undone. " What a plague !" said Evans, " are you a Spaniard, 
 that you carry all your money about you?" " No, sir," replied 
 Cornish, " I am a poor honest man, as ail my neighbours in St. 
 Sepulchre's parish know, belonging to the Chamberlain." " Then 
 what inn do you live at?" said Evans. " Perhaps you may do me 
 a piece of service, by informing me of wealthy passengers lodging 
 at your house, and if so, I shall generously reward you." " Sir," 
 replied Cornish, " I belong to no chamberlain of inns, but to the 
 Chamberlain of London, to whom I give information of persons 
 setting up in the city who are not freemen; of apprentices not 
 taking out their freedom when their time is expired; and other 
 such matters as come under the cognizance of that officer." " What, 
 you belong to the Chamberlain of London, then ? I thought all 
 this time that you had belonged to some inn, and so might have 
 given me intelligence in my way of business ; but as I find the 
 contrary, I have no more time to loie with yon; deliver, or you 
 
THOMAS DORBEL. M 
 
 are a dead man 1" Then searching the pockets of the informer, in 
 which he only found fivepence, he was enraged that he had lost so 
 much time for nothing. He vented, however, his chagrin and 
 rage, by giving him a severe caning, and went in search of better 
 prey. 
 
 Having received intelligence that the Chester coach was coming 
 to London with passengers, Evans sent his brother Will to quarter 
 at Barnet the previous night, and to be at Baldock Lane by a cer- 
 tain hour next morning. It happened that a cheesemonger, a 
 Scotchman, was travelling to Edinburgh, and putting up at the 
 same place, slept with Will all night, and, in the morning, under 
 the pretence of business, Will went part of the road with his bed- 
 fellow. But when they came to Baldock Lane, the Scotchman was 
 alarmed by a pistol discharged over Will's head, which was a signal 
 agreed upon between the brothers. They then commanded the 
 Scotchman to stand at a distance, while the two desperate brothers 
 robbed the coach. Scarcely, however, was this done when the 
 captain robbed the Scotchman of seven guineas and two watches. 
 The younger brother however, interceeded in his behalf, and the 
 best watch was delivered back, and three guineas to bear his expell- 
 ees upon the road. But it happened, that these two notorious rob- 
 bers being apprehended, this man appeared in evidence against 
 them, and they were condemned and executed in the year 1708; 
 the one being twenty-nine, and the other twenty-three years of age. 
 
 THOMAS DORBEL. 
 
 This robber was bred a glover; but before he had served one half 
 of his time, ran off from his master, and coming to London, soon 
 became acquainted with men of dispositions similar to his own. 
 About the age of seventeen, Tom ventured to appear upon the 
 highway, but was outwitted in his first attempt. 
 
 Meeting a Welshman, he demanded Taffy's money, or he would 
 take his life. The Welshman said, " Hur has no money of hur 
 own, but has threescore pounds of hur master's money; but, Cot's 
 blood! hur must not give hur master's money, — what would hur 
 master then say for hur doing so?" Tom replied, " You must not 
 put me off with your cant; for money I want, and money I will 
 have, let it be whose it will, or expect to be shot through the head.'* 
 
196 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 The Welshman then delivered the money, saying, " What hur 
 gives you is none of hur own; and that hur master may not think 
 hur has spent hur money, hur requests you to be so kind as to shoot 
 some holes through hur coat-lappets, that hur master may see hur 
 was robbed." So suspending his coat upon a tree, Tom rired his 
 pistol through it, Taffy exclaiming, " Cots splatter a-nails ! this is 
 a pretty pounce ; pray give hur another pounce for hur money \" 
 Tom fired another shot through his coat. " By St. Davy, this fc 
 a better pounce than the other ! pray give hur one pounce more !" 
 — " I have never another pounce left," cried Tom. " Why then," 
 replied the Welshman, " hur has one pounce left for hur, and if 
 hur will not give hur hur money again, hur will pounce hur through 
 hur body." Dorbel very reluctantly but quietly returned the money, 
 and was thankful that he was allowed to depart. 
 
 But this narrow escape did not deter Dorbel, and he continued 
 his villainies for the space of five years. It happened, however, 
 that a gentleman's son was taken for robbing on the highway, and 
 as he had been formerly pardoned, he now despaired of obtaining 
 mercy a second time. Tom undertook, for the sum of five hundred 
 pounds, to bring him off. The one half was paid in hand, and the 
 other half was to be paid immediately the deliverance was effected. 
 When the young gentleman came upon his trial, he was found 
 guilty ; but just as the judge was about to pass sentence, Tom cried 
 out, " Oh! what a sad thing it is to shed innocent blood! Oh! 
 what a sad thing it is to shed innocent blood !" And continuing to 
 reiterate the expression, he was apprehended, and the judge inter- 
 rogating him what he meant by such an expression, he said, " May 
 it please your Lordship, it is a very hard thing for a man to die 
 wrongfully ; but one may see how hard-mouthed some people are, 
 by the witnesses swearing that this gentleman now at the bar, robb- 
 ed them on the highway at such a time, when indeed, my Lord, I 
 was the person that committed that robbery." 
 
 Accordingly, Tom was taken into custody, and the young gentle- 
 man liberated. He was brought to trial at the following assizes* 
 and being asked, whether he was guilty or not? he pleaded, not 
 guilty! " Not guilty!" replied the judge, " why, did not you at 
 the last assizes, when I was here, own yourself guilty of such a 
 robbery !" " I don't know," said Tom, " how far I was guilty then, 
 but upon my word, I am not guilty now: therefore, if any person 
 can accuse me of committing such a robbery, I desire they may 
 prove the same " No witness appearing, he was acquitted. 
 Tom living at such an extravagant rate in the prison, had scarcely 
 
DICK ADAMS. 197 
 
 any part of the five hundred pounds remaining when he obtained 
 his liberty; therefore, endeavouring to recruit his funds, by robb- 
 ing the Duke of Norfolk near Salisbury, his horse was shot, and 
 he himself taken, and condemned at the next assizes. While 
 under sentence, he found a lawyer who engaged, for the sum of 
 fifty guineas, to obtain his pardon. He accordingly rode to London, 
 was successful, and just arrived in time with the pardon, when 
 Dorbel was about to be thrown off, — having rode so hard that his 
 horse immediately dropted down dead. Such, however, was Tom's 
 ingratitude, that he refused to pay the lawyer, alleging, that any 
 obligation given by a man under sentence of death was not valid. 
 Dorbel was so much alarmed upon his narrow escape from a 
 violent death, that he resolved to abandon the collecting trade, and 
 obtained a situation in several families as a footman. He also 
 served six or seven years with a lady in Ormond Street, who had a 
 brother a merchant in Bristol, whose only daughter, a girl sixteen 
 years of age, prevailed upon her father to allow her to come to 
 London to perfect her education. Dorbel being a person in whom 
 her aunt thought she could place unlimited confidence, was sent 
 to convey the young lady to London. In the last stage he was left 
 alone with her, when the miscreant first shockingly abused her, 
 then robbsd her of her gold watch, diamond ring, jewels to the 
 amount of a hundred pounds, and cutting a hole in the back of the 
 coach, escaped, leaving the young lady in a swoon. It was with 
 difficulty she recovered, to inform her relations how she had been 
 treated. Her mother hastened to town to see her, and after speak- 
 ing a few words to her, the poor girl breathed her last. The dis- 
 consolate father soon after lost his senses. 
 
 Dorbel was pursued in different directions, and apprehended just 
 after he hed robbed a gentleman of three pounds five shillings. 
 He was tried, and condemned to be executed and hung in chains 
 which well merited sentence was put in force against this hardened 
 villain, on the 23rd of March, 1708. 
 
 DICK ADAMS 
 
 The parents of this worthless fellow lived in Gloucestershire, and 
 gave him an education suited to his station. Leaving the country, 
 and coming to London, the abode of the most distinguished virtue 
 
19« ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 as well as the most consummate villainy, he was introduced into 
 the service of a great Duchess at St. James's, and stayed there 
 for two years. He was at last dismissed for improper conduct; 
 but while he remained there, he had obtained a general key which 
 opened the lodgings in St. James's. Accordingly, he went to a 
 mercer, and desired him to send, with all speed, a parcel of the 
 best brocades, satins, and silks, for his Duchess, that she might 
 select some for an approaching drawing-room. Having often gon«, 
 upon a similar errand, the mercer instantly complied. His servant, , 
 and a porter to carry the parcels, accompanied Dick, and when 
 arrived at the gate of some of the lodgings, he said, " Let's see 
 the pieces at once, for my Duchess is just now at leisure to look at 
 them. So receiving the parcel, he conveyed it down a back-stair, 
 and went clear off. After waiting with great impatience for two 
 or three hours, the porter and man returned home, much lighter 
 than when they came out. 
 
 About a month after, one evening when Dick had been taking 
 his glass pretty freely, he unfortunately came by the mercer's shop, 
 while the mercer was standing at the door; the latter recollected 
 and instantly seized him, saying, " Oh Sir, have I caught you ! 
 you are a fine spark indeed ! to cheat me out of two hundred pounds 
 worth of goods ! but before 1 part with you, I shall make you pay 
 dearly for them!" Adams was not a little surprised at being so 
 unexpectedly taken ; but instantly seeing the Bishop of London 
 coming up in his carriage, he said to the mercer, " I must acknow- 
 ledge that I have committed a crime to which I was forced by extreme 
 necessity; but I see my uncle, the Bishop of London, coming this 
 way in his coach ; therefore, I hope that you will be so civil as not 
 to raise any hubbub of a mob about me, by which I should be ex- 
 posed and utterly undone : I'll go speak to his Lordship about the 
 matter, if you please to step with me ; and I'll engage he shall 
 make you satisfaction for the damage I have done you." 
 
 The mercer, eager to receive his money, and deeming this pro- 
 posal a better method than sending him to gaol, consented. Adams 
 went boldly up, and desiring the coachman to stop, requested a few 
 words of his Lordship. Seeing him in the dress of a gentleman, 
 he was pleased to listen to him, upon which Adams said, " Begging 
 your lordship's pardon for my presumption, I make bold to acquaint 
 your Reverence that the gentleman standing behind me is an emi- 
 nent mercer, keeping house hard by, and is a very upright, Godly 
 man; but being a great reader of books of divinity, especially 
 polemical pieces, he has met therein with some intricate cases, 
 
DICK ADAMS. 199 
 
 which very much trouble him, and his conscience cannot be at rest 
 until his doubts and scruples are cleared about them; I humbly 
 beg, therefore, that your Lordship would vouchsafe him the honour 
 of giving him some ease before he runs utterly to despair." 
 
 The Bishop, always ready to assist any person troubled with 
 scruples of conscience, requested Adams to bring his friend the 
 following day: "but," said Adams, deferentially, " it will be more 
 satisfactory to the poor man, if your Lordship will spea* to him 
 yourself." Upon which the Bishop bowing to the mercer, the latter 
 approached the coach, when the Bishop said, " The gentleman has 
 informed me of all the matter about you, and if you please to give 
 yourself the trouble of coming to my house at Fulham, [ will 
 satisfy you in every point." The mercer made many grateful bowa, 
 and taking Adams to a tavern, gave him a good entertainment. 
 
 The next morning Adams waited upon the mercer, who wan 
 making out his bill to present to the Bishop, and pretending that 
 his coming in haste to attend him to the Bishop's house had made 
 him forget to bring money with him, entreated that he would grant 
 him the loan of a guinea, and put it down in the bill. They then 
 went off to wait upon the Bishop at the time appointed. After 
 being regaled in the parlour with a bottle of wine, the mercer was 
 introduced to the Bishop, who addressed him, saying, " I under- 
 stand that you have been greatly troubled of late ; I hope that you 
 are better now, sir ?" The mercer answered, " My trouble is much 
 abated, since your Lordship has been pleased to order me to wait 
 upon you." So pulling out his pocket-book, he presented his 
 lordship with a bill containing several articles, including a guinea 
 of borrowed money, amounting in all to two hundred and three 
 pounds nineteen shillings and ten pence. 
 
 His Lordship, staring upon the bill, and examining its contents, 
 said, " What is the meaning of all this ? The gentleman last night 
 might very well say your conscience could not be at rest, and I 
 wonder why it should, when you bring a bill to me of which I know 
 nothing." "Your Lordship," said the mercer, bowing and scraping, 
 " was pleased last night to say, that you would satisfy me to-day." 
 " Yes," replied the prelate, " and so I would with respect to what 
 that gentleman told me ; who said that you, being much troubled 
 about some points of religion, desired to be resolved therein, and, 
 in order thereto, I appointed you to come to-day." " Truly, your 
 Lordship's nephew told me otherwise; for he said you would pay 
 me this bill of parcels, which, upon my word, he had of me, and 
 in t very clandestine manner too, if I were to tell your Lordship 
 
800 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 all the truth ; but out of respect to your honour, I will not disgrace 
 your nephew." " My nephew ! he is none of ray nephew ! I never, 
 to ray knowledge, saw the gentleman in my life before!" 
 
 Dick not long after went into the Life-Guards, but as his pay 
 would not support his extravagance, he sometimes collected upon 
 the highway. Along with some of his companions upon the road, 
 they robbed a gentleman of a gold watch and a purse of a hundred 
 and eight pounds. Not content with his booty, Adams went afte* 
 the gentleman, saying, " Sir, you have got a very fine coat on ; I 
 must make bold to exchange with you." As the gentleman rode 
 along, he thought he heard something making a noise in his pocket, 
 and examining it, to his great joy he found his watch and all his 
 money, which Adams in his hurry had forgot to remove out of the 
 pocket of his own coat when he exchanged with the gentleman. 
 But when Adams and his associates came to an inn, and sat down 
 to examine their booty, to their unspeakable chagrin they found 
 that all was gone. 
 
 Adams and his companions went out that very same day to repair 
 their loss, and attacked the stage-coach, in which were several 
 women, with whom, irritated by their recent misfortune, they were 
 very rough and urgent. While Dick was searching the pockets 
 of one of the women, she said, " Have you no pity or compassion 
 on our sex ? Certainly, you have neither Christianity, conscience, 
 nor religion, in you!" " Right, we have not much Christianity 
 nor conscience in us : but, for my part, you shall presently find a 
 little religion in me." So falling next upon her jewels and ear- 
 rings, " Indeed, Madam," exclaimed Adams, "supposing you to 
 l/e an Egyptian, I must beg the favour of you, being a Jew, to 
 borrow your jewels and ear-rings, according as my forefathers were 
 commanded by Moses ;" and having robbed the ladies to the amount 
 of two hundred pounds in money and goods, allowed them to 
 proceed. 
 
 After a course of depredations, Dick, in robbing a man between 
 London and Brentford, was so closely pursued by the person who 
 was robbed, and a neighbour whom he fortunately met upon the 
 road, that in a little time afterwards he was apprehended, carried 
 before a magistrate, committed to Newgate, tried, condemned, 
 and executed, in March, 1713. Though rude and profligate before, 
 he v as penitent and devout after receiving his sentence. 
 
■ -^=^%m. 
 
 Page 201. 
 
Ml 
 
 WILLIAM GETTINGS, 
 
 CALLED 
 
 " THE HEREFORD BOY." 
 
 The father of this man was a grazier in Herefordshire; ana ne 
 lived with him until he was sixteen years old, and then came up to 
 London. Sometimes in the capacity of a footman, and sometimes 
 in that of a butler, he spent five years in a very irreproachable 
 manner. Unfortunately, however, he became acquainted with evil 
 company, was soon corrupted in principles, and became a rogue in 
 practice. 
 
 He began his course under the name of William Smith, and 
 traded in the smaller matter of pilfering. In the dress of a porter 
 he one evening went into the house of a doctor of medicine, took 
 down a rich bed, and packed it up. In carrying it off he fell down 
 stairs, and had almost broken his neck. The noise alarming the 
 oJd doctor and his son, they came running to see what was the 
 matter; whereupon Gettings, puffing and blowing as if he was 
 quite out of breath, perceiving them nearer than they should be, 
 said to the doctor, "Is not your name Young?" — "Yes," replied 
 the doctor, " and what then?" — " Why, then, sir," said Gettings, 
 " There's one Mr. Hugh Hen and Penhenribus has ordered me to 
 bring these goods hither (which have almost broken my back,) 
 and carry them away to a new lodging, which he has taken some- 
 where hereabouts." — " Mr. Hugh Hen and Penhenribus?" replied 
 the doctor again; "pray, who's he? for, to the best of my know- 
 ledge, I don't know such a gentleman." — " I can't tell," said 
 Gettings, " but, indeed, the gentleman knows you, and ordered 
 me to leave the goods here." — " I don't care," said the doctor, 
 " how well he knows ! I tell you I'll not take the people's goods, 
 unless they were here themselves; therefore, I say, carry them 
 away!" — : Nay, pray sir," said Gettings, " let me leave the goods 
 here, for I am quite weary already in bringing them hither." — " I 
 tell you," replied the doctor, " there shall none be left here; there- 
 fore take them away, or I'll throw them into the street!" — " Well, 
 well," said Gettings, " I'll take the goods away then ; but I'm sure 
 the gentleman will be very angry, because he ordered me to leave 
 them here." — " I don't care," replied the doctor, " for his anger, 
 
202 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 nor your'a eitner ! I tell you, I'll take no charge of other people's 
 goods, unless they are here themselves to put them into my cus- 
 tody!" — " Very well, sir," said Gettings, " since I must carry 
 them away, I beg the favour of you and the gentleman there to 
 lift them on my back." — " Ay, ay, with all my heart," replied the 
 doctor. " Come son, and lend a hand to lift them on the fellow's 
 back." 
 
 Scarcely was William gone, when the doctor's wife coming hoine 
 from the market, and going into the room, saw the bed taken down, 
 and came running in a great passion to her husband, exclaiming, 
 " Why, truly, this is a most strange business, that I can never stir 
 out of doors, but you must be making some whimsical alteration 
 or other in the house !" — " What's the matter," replied the doctor, 
 U with the woman ? ■ Are you beside yourself?" — " No, said the 
 wife, " but truly you are, in thus altering things as you do, almost 
 every moment !" — " Certainly, my dear," replied the doctor, " you 
 must have been spending your market-penny, or else you would 
 not talk at this rate, as you do, of alterations, when not the small- 
 est have been made since you have gone out." — " I am not blind, 
 I think," retorted the wife, " for I am sure the bed is taken out of 
 the two-pair-of-stairs back-room; and pray, husband, where do 
 you design to put it now ?" The doctor and his son then went up- 
 stairs, and not only found that the bed was stolen, but that they 
 had assisted the thief to carry it off. 
 
 Our hero next resolved to try his fortune upon the highway, and 
 meeting with a sharper on the road, commanded him to " stand 
 and deliver?" He robbed him of two-pence halfpenny, when the 
 sharper remarked, that " the world was come indeed to a very sad 
 pass, when one rogue must prey upon another." 
 
 He next robbed a man of twelve shillings and a pair of silver 
 buckles. From hence he proceeded to rifle a stage-coach, and took 
 away some money and a silver watch. Not long after, he robbed 
 Mr. Dashwood and his lady of a gold watch and money. 
 
 These, however, were only smaller exhibitions of his dexteiity. 
 One evening, well mounted, he passed through Richmond, and 
 perceiving a gentleman walking in his gardens, enquired of the 
 gardener, if he might be permitted to view the gardens, of which 
 he had heard so much. 
 
 The gardener, well acquainted with the harmless vanity and 
 benevolence of his master, granted his request. Giving his horse 
 to the gardener, Gettings walked forward, and in a very respectful 
 manner, accosted the gentleman, who received him very courteous 
 
EDWARD BONNET. 309 
 
 ly; when, setting down together in an arbour, Gettings said, 
 " Your worship has got a fine diamond ring upon your finger."— 
 " Yes," replied the owner, " it ought to be a very fine one, for it 
 cost me a very fine price." — " Why, then," said Gettings, " it is 
 the fitter to bestow on a friend; therefore, if your worship pleases, 
 I must make bold to take it and wear it for your sake." The gentle- 
 man stared at his impudence, but Gettings, presenting a pistol, 
 made a short process of the matter. Having taken the ring, the 
 villian added, " I am sure you do not go without a good watch too." 
 Making free with that also, and some guineas, he bound the gentle- 
 man, and went off with his booty, after requesting him to be patient, 
 and he would send some person to set him at liberty. When he 
 came to the gate, he gave the gardener a shilling, informing him 
 that Sir James wanted to speak to him. The botanical retainer 
 accordingly went and untied his master, who with a grim smile 
 returned him thanks for sending a man into his own garden to 
 rob him. 
 
 Upon another day, Gettings undertook a long journey, for the 
 express purpose of robbing the house of a friend; and being well 
 acquainted with all parts of the house, was successful, and brought 
 off money, plate, and goods, to a considerable amount. He at 
 last, in an unlucky moment, robbed a Mr. Harrison of four guineas, 
 some silver, and a watch ; and being detected, was tried, condemn- 
 ed, and executed, on the 25th September, 1713, in the twenty-second 
 year of his age. 
 
 EDWARD BONNET. 
 
 Edward Bonnet was born of respectable parents in the isle of 
 Ely, in Cambridgeshire, received an education superior to many 
 of his companions, and when he was only ten years old, gave the 
 following proof of his promising genius. He was sent to the parson 
 with the present of a sparerib of pork, wrapped up in a cljth, in 
 a basket. Ned knocked with some degree of importance at the 
 door, which a servant answered, enquiring his business. " I want 
 to speak with your master." The master came, " Well, my lad, 
 what is your business ?" " Why, only my father has sent you this," 
 said young Ned ; and gave him the basket, without moving his hat, 
 " O fie ! tie ; child, have you no manners ? you should pull <^ j c 
 
204 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 hat, and say,— Sir, my father gives his service to you, and desires 
 you to accept this small token. Come, go you out again with the 
 basket, and knock at the door, and I'll let you in, and see how 
 prettily you can perform it." The parson waited within until his 
 impatience to receive and examine the contents of the basket, 
 incited him to open the door. But Ned was at a considerable dis- 
 tance, walking off with the present. " So ho ! so ho ! sirrah ! 
 where are you going ?" " Home, sir," replied Ned, in an equally 
 loud voice. " Hey, but you must come back and do as I bade you 
 first." " Thank you for that, sir, I know better than that ; and if 
 you teach me manners, I'll teach you wit." The father smiled at 
 the story, and retained his spare-rib. 
 
 At the age of fifteen Bonnet was sent apprentice to a grocer, 
 served his time with credit, was afterwards married to a young 
 woman in the neighbourhood, and continued in business, for 
 some time, until he had acquired about six hundred pounds. 
 Unfortunately, however, he was reduced to poverty by an accidental 
 fire. Unable to answer the pressing demands of his creditors, he 
 left the place, and came up to London. Here he soon became 
 acquainted with a band of highwaymen, and began with them to 
 seek from the highway what had been lost by fire. 
 
 Nor did he long continue in the inferior walks of his new profes- 
 sion, but providing himself with a horse which he taught to leap 
 over ditch, hedge, or toll-bar, and to know all the roads in the 
 country, whether by day or by night, he quickly became the terror 
 of Cambridgeshire. 
 
 Upon this horse, he one day met a Cantabrigian, who was possessed 
 of more money than good sense, morality, or wit, in a calash with 
 a dashing courtesan. Ned commanded the student to " stand and 
 deliver." Unwilling to show his cowardice before his companion, 
 he refused. Without any respect to the venerable University to 
 which he belonged, Ned by violence took from him about six pounds, 
 and presenting a pair of pistols, constrained the hopeful pair to 
 strip themselves, then bound them together, and giving the horse 
 a lashing, the animal went off at full trot with them to the inn to 
 which he belonged. But no sooner did these Adamites enter the 
 town, than men, women, and children, came hallooing, shouting, 
 and collecting the whole town to behold such an uncommon spec- 
 tacle. The student was expelled for disgracing the University, 
 and the courtesan was sent to th ? house of correction. 
 
 Humourous Ned mxt met wich a tailor and his son, who had 
 arrested him for fivt- pounds. He commanded him to surrender 
 
EDWARD BONNET, M 
 
 and received thirty-five in place of his five. " I wonder," suiu 
 the innocent son, " what these fellows think of themselves ? surely 
 they must go to the place below for committing these notorious 
 actions." " God forbid," replied the tailor, " for to have the con- 
 versation of such rogues there, would be worse than all the rest." 
 
 Ned's next adventure was with an anabaptist preacher, whom 
 he commanded to deliver up his purse and scrip. The latter began 
 by reasonings, ejaculations, and texts, to avert the impending 
 evil. Ned instantly put himself in a great passion, and replied, 
 " Pray, sir, keep your breath to cool your porridge, and don't talk 
 of religious matters to me, for I'll have you to know, that, like all 
 other true-bred gentlemen, I believe nothing at all of religion ; 
 therefore deliver me your money, and bestow your laborious cant 
 upon your female auditors, who never scold with their maids with- 
 out cudgelling them with broken pieces of scripture." Whereupon, 
 taking a watch and eight guineas, he tied his legs under his horse, 
 and let him depart. 
 
 On another occasion, Bonnet and a few associates met a nobleman 
 and four servants in a narrow pass, one side of which was enclosed 
 by a craggy and shattered rock, and the other by an almost impene- 
 trable wood, rising gradually considerably higher than the road ; 
 and accosted them in his usual style. The nobleman pretended 
 that he supposed they were only in jest, and said, " that if they 
 wou.d accompany him to the next inn, he would give them a hand- 
 some treat." He was soon informed that they preferred the present 
 to the future. A sharp dispute ensued, but the nobleman and his 
 men were conquered; and the lord was robbed of a purse of gold, 
 a gold watch, a gold snuff-box, and a diamond ring. 
 
 Being conducted into the adjacent wood, and bound hand and 
 foot, the robbers left them, saying, " that they would bring them 
 more company presently." Accordingly, they were as good as 
 their word, for in less than two hours they contrived to .ncrease the 
 number to twelve, on which Ned cried, " There are now twelve of 
 you, all good men and true ; so bidding you farewell, you may 
 give in your verdict against us as you please, when we are gone, 
 though it will be none of the best; but to give us as little trouble 
 as possible, we shall not now stay to challenge any of you. So, 
 once more, farewell." 
 
 Ned Bonnet and his comrades now going to the place of rendez- 
 vous, to make merry with what they had got, which was at a by 
 .«ort of an inn standing somewhat out of the high road betwecu 
 a taw ib :-i 1 and Grantham, it happened at night to rain very bira, 
 
aw ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 so that one Mr. Randal, a pewterer, living near Marygold-Alley, 
 in the Strand, before it was burnt down, was obliged to put in 
 there for shelter. Calling for a pot of ale, on which was the inn- 
 keeper's name, which was also Randal, the pewterer asked him, 
 being his name-sake, to sit and bear him company. 
 
 They had not been long chatting, before Ned and one of his 
 comrades came down stairs and placed themselves at the same 
 table ; and understanding the name of the stranger, one ofrjhe 
 rogues, fixing his eyes more intently than ordinary upon him, in 
 a fit of seeming joy leaped over the table, and embracing the 
 pewterer exclaimed, " Dear Mr. Randal! who would have thought 
 to have seen you here ! it is ten years, I think, since I had the 
 happiness to be acquainted with you." 
 
 Whilst the pewterer was recollecting whether he could call this 
 spark to mind or not, for it came not into his memory that he had 
 ever seen him in his life, the highwayman again cried out, " A] as ! 
 Mr. Randal, I see now 1 am much altered, since you have forgotten 
 me." Here, being arrived at a ne plus ultra, up started Ned, and 
 with as great apparent joy said to his companion, " Is this Harry, 
 the honest gentleman in London, whom you so often used to praise 
 for his great civility and liberality to all people ? Surely then we 
 are very happy in meeting thus accidentally with him." 
 
 By this discourse they would almost have persuaded Mr. Randal 
 that they perfectly knew him; but being sensible of the contrary, 
 he very seriously assured them, that he could not remember that 
 he ever had seen any of them in his life. " No !" said they, struck 
 with seeming astonishment; " it is strange we should be altered so 
 much within these few years." 
 
 But to evade further ill-timed questions, the rogues insisted upon 
 Mr. Randal's supping with them, which invitation he was by no 
 means permitted to decline. 
 
 By the time they had supped, in came four more of Ned's com- 
 rades, who were invited also to sit down, and more provisions were 
 called for, which were quickly brought, and as rapidly devoured. 
 
 When the fury of consuming half a dozen good fowl* ami i ther 
 victuals was over, besides several flasks of wine, there was not less 
 than three pounds odd money to pay. At this they stared on each 
 other, and held a profound silence, whilst Mr. Randal was fumbL'ii g 
 in his pocket. When they saw that he only brought forth a mouse 
 from the mountain of money the thieves hoped to find piled in his 
 pocket, which was only as much as his share, he that pretended to 
 know him started up, and protested he should be excused for old 
 
EDWARD BONNET. Vft 
 
 acquaintance sake ; but the pewterer, not willing to be beholden # 
 as indeed they never intended he should, to such companions, lest 
 for this civility they should expect greater obligations from him, 
 pressed them to accept his dividend of the reckoning, saying, if 
 they thought it equitable he would pay more. 
 
 At last one of them, tipping the wink, said, " Come come, what 
 needs all this ado ? let the gentleman, if he so pleases, present us 
 with this small treat, and do you give him a larger at his taking his 
 farewell in the morning.'* Mr. Randal not liking this proposal, it 
 was started that he and Ned should throw dice to end the contro- 
 versy ; and fearing he had got into bad company, to avoid mischief, 
 Randal acquiesced to throw a main who should pay the whole shot, 
 which was so managed that the lot fell upon Randal. By this 
 means Randal, having the voice of the whole board against him, 
 was deputed to pay the whole reckoning; though the dissembling 
 villains vowed and protested they had rather it had fallen to any of 
 them, that they might have had the honour of treating him. 
 
 Mr. Randal concealed his discontent at these shirking tricks as 
 well as he could; and they perceiving he would not engage in gam- 
 ing, but counterfeited drowsiness, and desired to be a-bed, the 
 company broke up, and he was shown to his lodging, which he 
 barricaded as well as he could, by putting old chairs, stools, and 
 tables against the door. Going to bed and putting the candle out, 
 he fell asleep ; but was soon awaked by a strange walking up and 
 down the room, and an outcry of murder and thieves. 
 
 At this surprising noise he leaped out of bed, and ran to the door, 
 to see whether it was fast or not : and finding nothing removed, (for 
 the highwaymen came into his chamber by a trap-door which was 
 behind the hangings,) he wondered how the noise should be there 
 in his apartment, unless it was enchanted; but as he was about to 
 remove the barricade to run and raise the house, he was surrounded 
 by a crew, who, tying and gagging him, took away all his clothes, 
 and left him to shift for himself as well as he could. 
 
 One day, having the misfortune to have his horse shot under 
 him, Bonnet embraced the first, opportunity to take a good gelding 
 from the grounds of the man who kept the Red Lion inn. Being 
 again equipped like a gentleman, he rode into Cambridgeshire, 
 and met with a gentleman, who informed him that he had well 
 nigh been robbed, and requested him to ride along with him for 
 protection. As a highwayman is never out of his way, he complied, 
 and, at a convenient place, levied a contribution, as protector of 
 the gentleman, by emptying his pockets of eighty guineas. He. 
 
208 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 however, had the generosity to give him half-a- crown to carry him 
 to the next town. 
 
 After having, according to computation, committed three hun- 
 dred robberies, another thief, being apprehended, in order to save 
 his own life, informed against Bonnet, who was apprehended, not 
 upon the highway, but in his own lodgings, and sent to Newgate, 
 and at the next assizes carried down to Cambridge, sentenced, and 
 executed before the castle, on the 28th March, 1713, to the gteat 
 jo) of the county, which had suffered severely by his depredations. 
 
 RICHARD KEELE. 
 
 This man was born at Ramsey, in Hampshire, and was oound an 
 apprentice to a barber in Winchester. In that station he acquitted 
 himself so well, that he received his master's daughter in marriage ; 
 but, after remaining with her about seven or eight years, he went 
 to reside with another woman, who had an annuity of 50/. 
 
 To gratify his vicious inclinations, his time was chiefly spent in 
 the company of the most abandoned men and women ; and it was 
 not long before he excelled them in every species of wickedness. 
 
 Not long after he went to reside with the annuitant, he set up an 
 alehouse, but was soon arrested on an action at the instance of a 
 soldier in the foot-guards, for keeping company with his wife, 
 whom he aided in her robberies, until she was condemned. When 
 arrested, no person would bail him out; and he had not been long 
 confined before no less than forty robberies were laid to his charge ; 
 but no prosecution being instituted against him, he was admitted 
 to bail. Being a prisoner on the first action, he removed himself 
 by a writ of habeas corpus to the Fleet-prison, but was, not lon«r 
 after, removed to Newgate, upon an accusation of blasphemy. 
 He was tried before Justice Parker, who sentenced him to stain 
 tv^'ce in the pillory, once at Charing-cross, and once without Tem- 
 ple-bar, and to suffer imprisonment during a year. 
 
 His time being expired, he became a bailiff's follower ; but, th 
 being a poor trade, he again began to make free with other men's 
 property. A coat and two periwigs became his prize, for wliuli 
 he was unluckily committed to Newgate. He was found guilt- , 
 burned in the hand, and ordered to hard labour in Bridewell f t 
 twelve montns. 
 
RICHARD KEELE. 209 
 
 Accordingly, along with William Lowther and Charles Hough. 
 ton, he was carried to Bridewell, but when Captain Bureman was 
 going to put them in irons they rebelled. Houghton was shot dead, 
 Lowther wounded, and Keele had one of his eyes shot out. But 
 having killed Edward Perry, one of the turnkeys, they were com- 
 mitted again to Newgate, Keele was maintained in prison by Isabel 
 Thomas, for whom an arrest was formerly issued against him by 
 her husband. She was a notorious thief, had been married to 
 many husbands, and was burnt several times in the hand; but 
 was at last tried, condemned, and executed for theft. 
 
 In addition to the villainies of Keele, before he was committed 
 on this occasion, he was one time in want of money, having paid 
 twenty or thirty pounds to an adversary, and meeting an honest 
 man called Bond and Judgment, from his lending money on bond 
 and when it became due pushing very hard for payment, he com- 
 manded him to " Stand and deliver !" Bond and Judgment answer- 
 ed, " Do you know me, sir?" — "Ay," replied Dick, " you villain ! 
 1 know you to be a mercenary rogue, who would send your mother 
 and father to gaol for the fillip of a farthing : therefore it is but a 
 just judgment befallen you, to take all you have from you." So 
 clapping a pistol to his breast, poor Bond and Judgment was under 
 the necessity of stopping the force of the bullet by threescore gui. 
 neas. This so lessened his stock, that when he was, not long after 
 lodged in Newgate, he found a difficulty in raising as much money 
 as would suffice to remove his carcase to the King's Bench prison. 
 At another time, Keele being well mounted, and accoutred with 
 sword and pistol, met an officer, lately a tradesman, on Hounsiow- 
 heath. Keele gave him the word of command, " Stand and de 
 liver !" He was indeed at a stand, but supposing that the colour 
 of his coat would inspire Dick with fear, said, " Don't you see 
 what livery 1 wear ?" — " See whose livery you wear !" replied Dick. 
 " You are a footman ?" — " No," said the other, " I am an officer 
 in the army, therefore at your peril be it, if you presume to stop 
 me when I am upon lawful occasions." — " Nay," said Dick, " if 
 you go about lawful occasions, I am about unlawful; therefore, 
 deliver what you have, or we must try who is the better man." — " I 
 don't bear a commission to fight with highwaymen," cried the quan- 
 dum shopkeeper ; " I only wear her Majesty's cloth to fight for my 
 queen and country." — " Why then," replied Dick, " neither this 
 cloth, nor any other, must be protection against my arrest; there- 
 fore, as Che pistol is my tip-staff, I demand your money upon pain 
 of death," But finding no money, he stripped off his coat, waist- 
 p 
 
210 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 coat, and small-clothr i, and ordered him to get another suit, antf 
 place it to the account of the regiment. 
 
 Dick was at last brought to his trial, and the evidence being 
 decisive against him, he and William Lowther were both sentenced 
 to death. In consequence of the influence of a sister who lived 
 with a gentleman of rank, he was confident that he should obtain 
 a pardon, but was miserably disappointed. 
 
 It may be proper to remark, that it was his usual custom to boa^st 
 in all manner of wickedness, and to say, that should he ever come 
 under sentence of death, he would never behave himself similar 
 to the generality of those in that condition ; that he should neither 
 confess his crimes, shed a tear, nor show the least contrition or 
 uneasiness. But when he came to be in that situation, he was 
 neither without his dread, nor the expression of his awful forebod- 
 ings. He suffered for his offences on the 23rd of December, J 713 
 
 WILL OGDEN AND TOM REYNOLDS. 
 
 The first of these was a waterman, and born in South wark. The 
 second was a dung-bargeman, and born in Barnaby-street. Enter- 
 ing*into company, they robbed shops and ships, during the space 
 of two years with considerable success : they then ascended to the 
 second degree of robbery, and broke several houses in Southwark. 
 Associating themselves with another, they broke into a watch- 
 maker's shop, and extracted twenty-six watches; but the stranger 
 becoming evidence, our two trusty friends were lodged in Newgate, 
 tried and condemned, but received a pardon, in consequence of 
 which they were again let loose upon the community. Ogden one 
 evening met a parson walking home under the light of the moon, 
 and approached him in the character of a seaman in great poverty 
 and distress. His dismal narrative excited the compassion of the 
 parson, who gave him a sixpence. The parson had not proceeded 
 far when Ogden met him again, and renewed his request. " You 
 are the most impudent beggar that over I met with," cried the re- 
 verend gentleman. Ogden told him that he was in very great 
 want, and that the sixpence he had received would not supply his 
 necessities. He then gave him half-a-crown. Ogden said, "These 
 are very sad times, for there's horrid robbing abroad, therefore, if 
 you have any more money about you, you may as well let me h*vG 
 
WILL OGDEN AND TOM REYNOLDS. 211 
 
 it as another, who perhaps may abuse you, and binding you hand 
 and foot, make you lie in the cold all night; but if you'll give me 
 your money, I'll take care of you, and conduct you very safely 
 home." 
 
 The parson made a virtue of necessity, and gave him all his 
 money, which was about 40*. Ogden then said, " I see you have 
 a watch, sir ; you may as well let me have that too." The parson 
 complied, and as they were plodding along, two or three fellows 
 came out upon them, to whom Ogden cried " the moon shines 
 bright," when they let them proceed. They had only gone a short 
 way, when the same scene was repeated, but at last the parson was 
 brought safely to his own door. He requested his guide to go in, 
 assuring him that he should receive no injury; but the latter de- 
 clined his offer. The good parson then brought a bottle of wine, 
 and drinking to Ogden, gave him the bottle and the glass to help 
 himself, upon which he ran off with both. 
 
 Upon another day, meeting Beau Medlicote, he was commanded 
 to " stand and deliver." The beau pretended to make some re- 
 sistance with his sword, but pistols being produced, he was con- 
 strained to yield. There were only two half-crowns found in his 
 pocket, and one of them was bad. Upon this he received a com- 
 plete caning for presuming to carry counterfeit money. 
 
 Some time after this, Ogden and Reynolds, in company with one 
 Bradshaw, the grandson of Serjeant Bradshaw, who condemned 
 King Charles I. to death, were watching in a wood for some booty. 
 A poor servant girl was returning home from her service, with a 
 box upon her head : Bradshaw was deemed a sufficient match for 
 her; accordingly, he alone rushed out of the wood, and seized her 
 box in which were her clothes and 15*. being all her wages for 
 three months' services. When he had broken up her box and was 
 rifling it, there happening to be a hammer in it, she suddenly 
 seized the hammer, and gave him a blow upon the temple, which 
 was followed by another equally well directed, with the claw of 
 the hammer, into his windpipe, on which the villain immediately 
 expired. 
 
 In a short time a gentleman came up, to whom she related the 
 whole adventure ; he went up to the deceased, and found in his 
 pockets 80 guineas, and a whistle. Perceiving its use, he imme- 
 diately whistled, when Ogden and Reynolds in a moment rushed 
 from the wood ; but discovering that it was a wrong person who 
 ga/e the signal, they with equal speed ran back. The gentleman 
 
212 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 carried the girl before a magistrate, became bail for her appear- 
 ance, and being tried, she was acquitted. 
 
 At another time, these two men met a tallyman, well known tor 
 his commerce of two kinds with the hawkers in St. Giles's. They 
 employed the common phrase, " stand and deliver!" In a piteous 
 tone the victim entreated them to spare a poor man who was at 
 great pains to acquire his daily bread. In a violent passion Ogden 
 exclaimed, " Thou spawn of hell ! have pity on thee ! l^o, 
 sirrah ! I know you too well, and I would almost as soon be kind to 
 a bailiff or an informing constable. A tallyman and a rogue are 
 terms of similar import. Every Friday you set up a tenter in the 
 Marshalsea Court, upon which you rack and stretch poor prisoners, 
 like English broad-cloth, beyond the staple of the wool, till the 
 threads crack, which causes them with the least wet to shrink, and 
 presently wear threadbare. I say that you and all your calling are 
 worse rogues than ever were hanged at Tyburn." After this elo- 
 quent harangue, he took whatever he found upon him, stripped 
 him naked, bound him hand and foot, and left him under a hedge 
 to ruminate on his former villainies. 
 
 These two rogues continued their depredations until justice at 
 length overtook them, and at Kingston-upon-Thames they were 
 sentenced. They were unsuccessful in attempting to break out of 
 the Stock-house; and such was the indifference of Ogden, that 
 when he was going to the place of execution, he threw a handful 
 of money among the crowd, saying, " Gentlemen, here is poor 
 Will's farewell." 
 
 They were executed on the 2d of April, 1714. 
 
 JOHN PRICE. 
 
 The depravity of human nature was exemplified in its full extent 
 in the character of John Price. The indigence and profligacy of 
 his parents were such, that he received no education, and he was 
 sent into the world to shift for himself, at the age of seven. Before 
 this period, he was a proficient both in cursing and lying. It is 
 rather a singular fact, that his habitual lying was once a means of 
 saving his life. 
 
 About the age of eighteen he was serving a gentlemau in the 
 
JOHN PRICE. 913 
 
 country, who turned him off for his notorious falsehoods. In going 
 to London he robbed a woman of eighteen shillings, was appre- 
 hended in the act, and convicted ; but his late master, who was 
 sheriff, took pity upon his situation, and saved his life. Informed 
 of this, the judges at the next assizes blamed the gentleman's con- 
 duct for allowing a man to escape who had pleaded guilty. The 
 sheriff acknowledged that such a man had been condemned at the 
 last assizes ; but then, he knew the fellow to be such an unaccount- 
 able liar, that there was no believing one word he said; so he 
 pleading guilty to what was laid to his charge, was in his opinion 
 a sufficient reason for his being believed innocent of the fact, and 
 he would not hang an innocent man for the world. This reply 
 made the judges smile, and he was dismissed with a severe repri- 
 mand, and cautioned not to come before them again. 
 
 Upon obtaining his liberty, Price went to London; associated 
 with a band of robbers, and in a short time was apprehended diving 
 into another person's pocket instead of his own, and for that crime 
 committed to Newgate. He was accordingly sentenced to a severe 
 whipping, and sent on board a man-of-war ; but after he had re- 
 ceived the punishment assigned to stealing from the sailors, he was 
 discharged from the ship. 
 
 He hastened again to London, joined another association of 
 thieves, and abandoned himself to all manner of wickedness. 
 One evening his gang divided themselves into three companies. 
 The first met an attorney, near Hampstead, whom they robbed of 
 eight guineas. The unfortunate lawyer had not gone far when he 
 was attacked by the second party, to whom he related his misfor- 
 tunes, and into what cruel hands he had fallen. "Cruel!" said 
 one of them : " how dare you use these terms ? And who made 
 you so bold as to talk to us with your hat on ? Pray, sir, be pleas- 
 ed henceforward to learn more manners." They then snatched 
 off his hat and wig ; and took a diamond ring from his finger. As 
 he was plodding his way home, uncertain which road was safest, 
 the third division came up to him near Kentish Town, bringing 
 with them a man whom they pretended to have completely strip- 
 ped, and constrained the lawyer to clothe the naked with his own 
 coat and waistcoat ; then told him he might be thankful he got oft" 
 with his life, which he employed in sowing division amongst 
 society. 
 
 In a short time after this, Price and a companion one evening 
 entered a garret, in which there was nothing but lumber, with trie 
 intention of robbing the house when all was silent. But in the 
 
2H ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 dark, as Price was laying his hand upon a pistol which he had 
 placed upon the table, it went off and alarmed the whole hou*e. 
 His comrade instantly ran to the window, where they fastened a 
 rope for their escape, and his companion attempting to slide down, 
 the rope soon broke, though he was not so much injured but he got 
 away. Price seeing the extreme danger of being caught, remov- 
 ed the rope to another window, and it conveyed him to a balcony. 
 He was, however, scarcely there, when all the people in the house 
 were alarmed; on which he leaped into a large basket of eg£s 
 which a man was carrying upon his head, from Newgate market; 
 so that the fall being broken, he was able to make his escape amid 
 the cry of thieves ! 
 
 Jack now began to be so well known about town, that he found 
 it necessary to remove to tne country. He was there most indus- 
 trious in stripping the hedges of the linen that he found upon 
 them. Putting up at an inn, the landlord soon understood from 
 his discourse, that he was a servant who would suit him, and there- 
 fore hired him as his tapster. It was this miscreant landlord's 
 custom to murder travellers who put up at his house; but one gen- 
 tleman being warned by a maid of his danger, provided for nil 
 safety. 
 
 Among other things the maid informed him that it was usual 
 for the landlord to ring a bell, on which an assassin, pretending to 
 be a servant, entered the chamber, snuffed out the candle, when 
 the other villains rushed in and murdered the stranger. The gen- 
 tleman caused the maid to place a lantern with a candle in it 
 under a stool, and he laid his arms ready and stood upon his guard. 
 Scarcely had he sat himself down when it happened as the girl had 
 mentioned ; but the gentleman, with the assistance of his servant, 
 killed two of the villains and put the rest to flight. He then seiz- 
 ed the innkeeper and his wife, carried them before a magistrate, 
 and they were indicted to stand trial at the next assizes. From 
 ths maid's deposition it appeared that fourteen strangers had been 
 murdered by them, and that their bodies were concealed in uu 
 arched vault in the garden, to which there was a passage from the 
 cellar. Both were executed, and the innkeeper hung in chains. 
 
 Jack having once more escaped death, returned to his pilfering 
 trade, was committed to Newgate, and whipped for his crimes. 
 But Jack was now determined to follow the example of the great 
 ones of the earth, and to better his circumstances by marriage. 
 Accordingly, he married one of the name of Betty, who gained 
 her livelihood by running of errands to the prisoners of Newgale 
 
JOSEPH BLAKE. 215 
 
 Nor *vas Jack, like too many, disappointed in his matrimonial 
 connexion, for he was soon elevated to be hangman to the county 
 Oj Middlesex. In this station he assumed great importance, and 
 held a levee every day that he did business at Tyburn; but though 
 he sometimes ran in debt, yet he was always very willing to work 
 in order to pay his obligations. But envy reached even him, and 
 he lost his place by means of one who had greater ministerial inte- 
 rest. But Jack could never be destitute while he had hands and 
 fingers to lay hold of whatever was within his reach. 
 
 He at last suffered from having assaulted a watchman's wife, 
 whom he met in Bunhill Fields, and used in such a barbarous 
 manner that she died in a few days of her wounds. Two men 
 suddenly came up to him, and, being seized, he was secured in 
 Newgate. After his trial and condemnation, he remained impeni- 
 tent, and endeavoured, by intoxication, to stifle the forebodings of 
 conscience. He was hanged on the 31st of May, 1718. 
 
 JOSEPH BLAKE. 
 
 Ihere are some rogues who are far elevated above ordinary cul 
 prits. They aspire to eminence in the awful field of criminality. 
 Among this number was Joseph Blake, who, it would appear, was 
 solicitous to acquire distinction, by superior acts of villainy alone. 
 
 He was a native of London, and received a decent education 
 from his parents, but it was his misfortune to associate with a wicked 
 companion, who, at an early period, initiated him into the mys- 
 teries of iniquity. When he returned from school, he refused to 
 go to any industrious employment, and boldly commenced robber 
 at the age of seventeen. It was his fortune, almost on every occa- 
 sion, to meet with detection, but still he pursued his course. 
 
 Blake entered at last into a famous gang of highwaymen, and 
 one evening they robbed a man of 8,?. and a gilt-handled sword. 
 A woman perceived it from a window, and gave the alarm; one of 
 the thieves fired at her, but drawing in her head, she was saved, 
 and the ball grazed the sill. Blake was also with the same gang 
 when they attacked Captain Langley, but that gentleman made 
 such a stout resistance that they could not rob him. Wilkinson, 
 one ot the chief of this gang, was apprehended, and in order to 
 save niOiselt, informed against several others. By means of Jr- 
 
tio English highwaymen. 
 
 evidence, no fewer than seventy were discovered ; and even Wil- 
 kinson was a second time seized, on account of farther guiJt oe'.ng 
 charged against him. 
 
 The inclination to discovery being begun, Blake also commenced 
 informer, and by his means no less than about twelve robberies 
 were revealed. On making these discoveries, he obtained his 
 liberty, and when he was discharged at the Old Bailey, a person 
 humorously asked him how long it would be beforp he was there 
 again? A gentleman replied, " Three years.'* Blake kept bis 
 time. 
 
 The moment he w r as at liberty, ne again commenced with Jack 
 Shepherd. One day they met with one Purgitor considerably 
 intoxicated, when Blake knocked him down, and threw him into 
 a ditch, where he must have perished, had it not been for the com- 
 passion of Shepherd, who kept his head above water. For this 
 crime two brothers in the Guards were tried, and if they had not 
 been saved by several persons swearing that they were upon duty 
 at the time, they would certainly have suffered; for the fact was 
 sworn against them. The eldest of these brothers died within a 
 week after his liberation, and did not live to see his innocence 
 vindicated by the confession of Blake. 
 
 At another time, Blake and Shepherd broke into a house, and 
 carried off goods to a considerable amount. They were both 
 apprehended, tried, and condemned; but the latter escaping from 
 the condemned hole, his life was prolonged for a little time. 
 
 Blake behaved in the most audacious manner at his trial ; and 
 when he saw that nothing could save him from death, he was re- 
 solved to deserve it better. Accordingly, taking the opportunity 
 of Jonathan Wild coming to speak with him, he cut Wild's throat 
 with a penknife. Of this wound Wild languished long, but at last 
 recovered. But if the wound of Blake had proved mortal, it would 
 have prevented a more shameful death. It may, however, be 
 remarked, that whatever Wild might merit from the hands of others, 
 this was ungrateful enough on the part of Blake, because Wild 
 was not only at the expense of curing a wound that the other had 
 received, but gave him 3s. Gd. after his sentence, and promised 
 him a decent coffin. 
 
 During the whole time of his confinement in prison, he displaved 
 the most hardened indifference and contempt, and seemed only to 
 regret that he had not been guilty of more numerous and nefarious 
 actions. He was executed in 1724, in the twenty-eighth year ox 
 his age. 
 
*n 
 
 JACK SHEPHERD. 
 
 The father of the celebrated John Shepherd was a carpenter in 
 Spitalfields, of good character, and. exceedingly solicitous to train 
 up his children in the path of sobriety and religion. They, however, 
 afforded a melancholy proof that the most virtuous example, and 
 the soundest principles, are frequently unsuccessful in influencing 
 the conduct of children. Two of his sons followed evil courses, 
 and were convicted at the bar of the Old Bailey. 
 
 After his father's death, young Shepherd was sent to a school in 
 Bishopsgate-Street, where he received the rudiments of education, 
 and was bound apprentice to a cane chair-maker. His master used 
 him very well, and he lived very comfortably with him; but this 
 master dying, he was sent to another, who treated him so very 
 harshly that he eloped. In a short time, he commenced his depre- 
 dations, and, in place of his formsr sober mode of life, his time 
 was spent in drinking all day, and retiring to an infamous abode 
 all night. 
 
 The history of this unfortunate man adds another to the many 
 examples already given in this volume, that the company of profli- 
 gate women has plunged men into scenes of dissipation and vice, 
 to which they would have been entire strangers, had it not been 
 for such associates. He was first enamoured of one Elizabeth Lion, 
 a woman remarkable for her stature and strength. Having sepa- 
 rated from her, he associated with one who stimulated him to all 
 manner of pilfering, in order that he might be the better able to 
 feed her extravagances. 
 
 One day, informing her that she had received his last half-crown, 
 she instigated him to rob a wealthy pawnbroker. Shepherd left 
 her about one in the morning, and returned with goods to the 
 amount of twenty-two pounds. It was not long before the two who 
 had planned the robbery, exhausted the booty. 
 
 The first favourite of Shepherd was committed to St. Giles's 
 round-house, for some pilfering pranks. Jack went to see her, 
 broke open the doors, beat the keeper, and set Bess Lion at liberty. 
 It is scarcely necessary to add, that this action gained him great 
 fame among ladies of her description, and stimulated him to more 
 daring acts of depredation. 
 
218 ENGLISH HibHWAYMEN. 
 
 About thio period Jack supplied his brother with a little money 
 to equip him for the honourable profession he himself followed; 
 and they broke into a linen draper's shop, from whence they ex- 
 tracted goods to the amount of fifty pounds. The younger brother, 
 however, being rather a novice in the art, was* too open in the dis- 
 posal of the goods, by which means he was detected, and his first 
 return for the kindness of his brother was to inform upon him and 
 several of his confederates. Jack Shepherd was accordingly •ap- 
 prehended, and committed to the round-house for farther exami- 
 nation. This place could not long retain so bold a spirit, and 
 marching off, he that very evening committed a robbery, and 
 vowed to be revenged upon Tom for his ungenerous conduct. 
 
 Detection proved no reformation. Jack, in company with one 
 Benson, attempting to steal a gentleman's watch, was discovered 
 and committed to New Prison. The first person whom he discerned 
 was his old favourite Bess Lion, who had been sent there upon 
 a similar errand. After exerting all his cunning and stratagem 
 in vain, Bess and he by force escaped, and instantly repaired to 
 her old lodgings. There he remained concealed for some time, but, 
 taking leave of his friend, he again associated with one Grace in 
 raising contributions. These two villains becoming acquainted 
 with one Lamb, an apprentice to Mr. Carter, they enticed him to 
 introduce them into his master's house, from whence they extracted 
 goods to a considerable amount. Shepherd and Grace, however, 
 differed in the division of the spoil, and betrayed each other; when 
 Grace and Lamb were apprehended. The misfortune of poor 
 Lamb, who was so simply inveigled, excited the compassion of 
 some gentlemen, who, by their exertions, succeeded in mitigating 
 his sentence to transportation. 
 
 The confederates of Shepherd, in order to obtain a ready market 
 for their goods, employed one Field to sell them, but he being 
 occasionally dilatory, they hired a warehouse, and there deposited 
 what goods they stole. Field, displeased at being turned off from 
 his lucrative employment, importuned them to show him their 
 stores, as he had several orders for goods, and could therefore 
 dispose of them to advantage. He was conducted to the warehouse 
 and shown the goods, and though he had not the courage manfully 
 to rob any person, yet he emptied the -warehouse of every rag it 
 contained. 
 
 In the course of business, Shepherd robbed a Mr. Kneebone, 
 and was tried at the ensuing sessions. He appeared simple and 
 almost foolish at his trial, alleging, a* his principal dcienc* 
 
JACK SHEPHERD. 219 
 
 that Jonathan Wild had disposed of part of the property, and 
 ought therefore to be punished as well as himself. He was however 
 sentenced, and conducted himself, in the whole of his defence, 
 more like an ignorant simple man, than one who was formed to 
 excel in his own, or any other profession. 
 
 But necessity is the mother of invention. While in the con- 
 demned hole, he prevailed upon one Fowls, who was also under 
 sentence of death, to lift him up to the iron spikes that were over 
 the top of the door which looks into the lodge. By the aid of a 
 strong tall woman, and two others, his head and shoulders were 
 got through, and the whole of his body following, he was by them 
 letdown, and without the least suspicion of the keepers, conveyed 
 through the lodge, put into a hackney coach, and out of reach 
 before the least notice of his escape could be given. 
 
 But Jack had scarcely breathed the fresh air when he returned 
 to business. He associated with one Page, a butcher, who dressed 
 him in one of his frocks, and both betook themselves to the high- 
 way. They went to a watchmaker's shop, in a daring manner 
 broke open one of the glasses, and seized three watches before the 
 boy who kept the shop could detect them. Upon this occasion 
 Shepherd had the audacity to pass under Newgate. 
 
 But as Shepherd would not conceal himself nor give over his 
 depredations, he was soon apprehended and again committed to 
 Newgate, was put into the stone-room, loaded with irons, and 
 stapled down to the ground. Being left alone, he with a crooked 
 nail opened the lock, got free of his chains, wrought out two stones 
 in the chimney, entered the red-room, where no person resided, 
 threw down a door, got into the chapel, broke a spike off the door, 
 and by it opened four other doors, got upon the roof, and from 
 thence, by the means of his blanket, went in at a garret window 
 belonging to an adjacent house, and through that house into the 
 street. 
 
 The whole of this almost incredible exertion was rendered the 
 more extraordinary in that his irons were on all the time. When 
 at liberty, he went into an adjoining field and knocked them off; 
 and, astonishing to relate, that very evening robbed a pawnbroker's 
 house, where, among other things, he found a handsome suit of 
 black clothes, in which he dressed himself and carried his booty 
 to two of his female companions. 
 
 lie now went to visit his companions in their scenes of iniquity, 
 and drinking at a brandy shop was discovered by a boy who knew 
 him. The boy had no sooner recognized Jack than he ran to give 
 
220 • ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 information, so th^t he was almost immediately apprehended and 
 reconducted to his old quarters in Newgate, amid a vast crowd, 
 who ran from all parts to see such an extraordinary character; but 
 he was so intoxicated at the time that he was scarcely conscious of 
 his miserable situation. To prevent the possibility of a third escape, 
 they never permitted him to be alone, and made the contributions 
 cf those who came to see and converse with such a singular charac- 
 ter pav for their additional trouble. « 
 
 He was now the topic of general conversation, and multitudes, 
 not only of the common ranks of society, but many in the more 
 elevated ranks of life, flocked to see him. In the most ludicrous 
 and jocular manner he related his adventures, exerting all his low 
 wit and buffoonery to amuse those who visited him, and to exact 
 money from them. In this manner were the last days of this 
 unhappy mortal spent, in diverting his mind from serious reflection, 
 and the awful scene before him. Nor was he even destitute of the 
 hope of pardon, from the distinguished persons who visited him, 
 and who seemed to pity his misfortune. But these hopes were vain, 
 and the attentions of these persons proved worse than useless. 
 
 He was removed to the bar of the Court of King's Bench, in 
 November, 1724, and an affidavit made that he was the same John 
 Shepherd mentioned in the record of conviction. Judgment was 
 awarded against him, and the day of his execution fixed. But 
 such was his strong desire of life, and his belief that his resources 
 would never fail him, that he prepared a knife to cut the ropes of 
 the cart which should carry him to Tyburn, in hopes of running 
 off among the crowd. This knife was, however, with no small 
 difficulty taken from him by force. As his last refuge to provide 
 against every possible event, he employed a friend, to whom he 
 had given all the money which he had reserved from his visitors, 
 to take his body away with all possible haste, — put it into a warm 
 bed, and draw a little blood, thus to use every possible means to 
 recover life. He iinally enjoined, that if all means should prove 
 unsuccessful, his body should be decently interred, and the remain- 
 der of the money given to his poor mother. 
 
 He was conducted to the place of execution in a cart, strongly 
 handcuffed, when he behaved very gravely, confessed some of the 
 robberies laid to his charge, and exculpated himself from others. 
 His general dexterity, and the various scenes through which he 
 had passed, operated to excite in no common degree, the syiapa/Jiy 
 of the multitude. 
 
ttl 
 
 JONATHAN WILD. 
 
 The notorious Jonathan Wild was the son of a carpenter, whose 
 family consisted of three sons and two daughters. Jonathan wan 
 the eldest, and having received such an education as his father's 
 circumstances would permit, he served an apprenticeship in Bir- 
 mingham. He came up to London, and was for some time a 
 gentleman's servant. But not relishing that mode of life, he 
 returned to his business, and wrought very diligently. 
 
 Having come back to London, he during some time worked as 
 a journeyman. He, however, living above his income, was arrest- 
 ed for debt. In prison he was scarcely able to exist upon the 
 charity of the prisoners, but was, however, soon made under-keeper 
 to the disorderly persons who were brought in at night. 
 
 Jonathan now learned the way of getting money from these 
 people, in return for instructing them how to obtain their liberty. 
 Here was a woman called Mary Miller, who taught him how to 
 acquire money by means to which he was an entire stranger. By 
 her he was made acquainted with all those gangs of profligate 
 persons that infested the town, and the manner in which they 
 prosecuted their schemes. Thus instructed, he became a director 
 among them, and though he never went upon the road, he obtained 
 more money than some who submitted to the danger and the toil of 
 procuring it. , 
 
 It was no easy matter formerly for thieves to find persons ready 
 to receive and dispose of their goods; but an act being passed, by 
 which those who purchased or received stolen goods, knowing them 
 to be so, were guilty of a capital crime, it became more difficult 
 for them to dispose of their booty. The result was, that the trade 
 was almost reduced to nothing. But the ingenuity of Wild gave 
 a new turn to their commerce. 
 
 Upon any person being robbed, Wild obtained intelligence where 
 the goods were deposited, and the persons from whom they had been 
 taken; and upon pretence of restoring them again, received a 
 considerable gratuity. He in a short time had all the villains in 
 the town under his control, and was sure to hang a few of them 
 every season, to maintain his consequence among them, and to 
 inspire terror, not for the law, but for himself. If any title could 
 
222 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 sufficiently exhibit Jonathan's character, it was that of " Director 
 General of the united forces of highwaymen, house-breakers, foot- 
 pads, pickpockets, and private thieves." 
 
 In process of time, however, he laid aside his caution, took a 
 larger house, and both he and the woman, who was called his wife, 
 dressed more elegantly, and opened a public office for restoring 
 stolen goods. His fame soon circulated, and persons of no small 
 distinction applied to Wild for the recovery of watches they Jiad 
 lost in their night ramblings, or goods which were extracted from 
 their houses. 
 
 When any came upon business to the office, a crown was deposit- 
 ed to meet incidental expences. A large book was kept, the loser 
 was examined with great minuteness, as to the time, the place, 
 the manner, and the quantity of goods stolen. The person was 
 dismissed with assurances that every possible search would be made. 
 When he returned, the same would be repeated, and the person 
 informed that they were not yet found, though perhaps they were 
 in the house the first time the person called. Perhaps after a few 
 more calls, Wild would inform the person, " That, provided no 
 questions were asked, and he gave so much money to the porter 
 who brought them, the goods would be returned at such an hour." 
 At the same time Wild would protest, in the most open and frank 
 manner, " That what he did was purely from a principle of doing 
 good; as to a gratuity for the trouble he had taken, he left it 
 entirely to themselves." And when money was presented, he 
 received it with apparent negligence and reluctance. 
 
 In this manner he evaded the power of the law. He neither saw 
 the thief, nor received the goods from him. It was not long, how- 
 ever, before he had become so necessary to these gentry, that when 
 he received the goods in his possession, he gave the thief what share 
 of the plunder he pleased, and if he was not satisfied with Wild's 
 offer, he was pretty certain of detection and the gallows. 
 
 After Wild had carried on his plan for several years, an act of 
 parliament was passed, chiefly directed against him, declaring it 
 capital to recover stolen goods in this way. Though Wild was 
 prudent and cautious in the extreme, during the first years of 
 his practice, yet in his latter years, he became hardened and 
 careless; therefore, continuing his practices, in defiance of that 
 law, he was apprehended, tried, and condemued. When the usual 
 question was put to him, " What have you to say why judgment 
 of death shall not pass upon you ?" — he, in a very feeble voice, 
 said, " My Lord, I hope I may, even in the sad condition in which 
 
RICHARD TURPIN. 223 
 
 I *;and, pretend to some little merit, in respect of the services I 
 have done my country, in delivering it of some of the greatest pests 
 with which it was ever troubled. My Lord, I have brought many 
 a bold and daring malefactor to just punishment, even at the hazard 
 of my own life ; my body being covered with scars received in these 
 undertakings. I presume, my Lord, to say I have some merit, 
 oecause at the time these things were done, they were esteemed 
 meritorious by the government; and therefore I beg, my Lord, 
 some compassion may be shown upon the score of these services. 
 I submit myself wholly to his Majesty's mercy, and humbly beg 
 a favourable report of my case." Under sentence of death, his 
 conduct was little calculated to excite pity for his untimely end; 
 and the day before his execution, he drank a large quantity of 
 laudanum, but having emitted it, the poison had not the desired 
 effect. Instead of expressing compassion, the multitude, when he 
 was being conveyed in the cart to Tyburn, threw stones and mud, 
 and exulted in his fall. He was allowed to sit a little in the cart, 
 but the multitude became enraged, calling upon the executioner 
 to dispatch him, or they would tear him to pieces. 
 
 Jonathan Wild is immortalized by the inimitable work of Fielding 
 bearing his name; but there is nothing in the mean and dastardly 
 nature of the man that renders him worthy even of being " damned 
 to everlasting fame," by our great ixovelist. 
 
 RICHARD TURPIN. 
 
 There never, perhaps, was a man in the particular profession to 
 wnich this notorious fellow devoted himself, whose name was more 
 familiar in the mouths of the common people than that of Richard 
 Turpin. But, since it invariably happens that a certain proportion 
 of curiosity respecting the life and actions of a man is sure to beget 
 a corresponding desire to satisfy it, we cannot wonder if the per- 
 plexed biographer should sometimes resort to fiction to supply the 
 deficiencies of fact. Hence it has happened that certain exploits 
 have been attributed to Turpin which do not properly belong to 
 him ; amongst others, the unparalleled ride from York to London 
 in an unprecedentedly short period, performed, it is averred, on a 
 single horse. We have never been able to find any authentic 
 account of this feat, nor have we, as yet, discovered any con- 
 
224 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 ceivable necessity that should compel him to such a rapid journey. 
 Turpin was never tried but once, and that was, indeed, at York , 
 but the reader will perceive that he had no opportunity of escape, 
 nor did he attempt any thing of the kind after his first appre- 
 hension. 
 
 Richard Turpin was ths son of John Turpin, of Hempstead in 
 Essex, and was put apprentice to a butcher in Whitechapel, where 
 he served his time, during which period he was frequently guilty 
 of misdemeanors, and conducted himself in a loose and disorderly 
 manner. As soon as his time was up, he married, and set up in 
 business for himself at Suson in Essex, where having no credit in 
 the market, and no money in his pocket, he was shortly reduced 
 to the necessity of maintaining himself by indirect practices; and, 
 accordingly, very often used to rob the neighbouring gentry of 
 sheep, lambs, and oxen. Upon one occasion, he stole a couple of 
 oxen from a farmer at Plaistow, which he caused to be conveyed to 
 his own house and cut up. Two of the men belonging to the farm, 
 having a suspicion of Turpin, went to his house, and seeing an 
 ox slaughtered, were convinced of his guilt ; and having traced the 
 sale of the hides, returned to Suson to apprehend him. Turpin, 
 apprized of their intention, left them in the front-room, jumped 
 out of a window and made his escape. 
 
 By this time his character b»d become notorious, and he never 
 could entertain a thought of returning to Suson, or of following 
 the trade of a butcher in that county. He, accordingly, resolved 
 to commence smuggler, and raising as much money as he could 
 scrape together, he betook him to the hundreds of Essex, where 
 he soon became connected with a gang of smugglers. This his 
 new profession he followed for some time with tolerable success; 
 bat fortune taking a turn, he lost all that he had acquired; upon 
 which he began to turn his thoughts to another, but by no means 
 a more honest, way of life. In a word, he connected himself with 
 a gang of deer-stealers, who, finding him a desperate fellow, and 
 fit for their purpose, admitted him among them. This desperate 
 gang, afterwards known and feared under the title of the Essex 
 Gang, not only robbed the forest of deer, but thinned several 
 gentlemen's parks of them, insomuch that they obtained a con- 
 siderable sum of money. They followed deer-stealing only for some 
 time; but not finding the money come in so quickly as they wished, 
 and being narrowly watched by the park-keepers, they, by Turpin' > 
 direction, resolved to go round the country at nights, and when 
 they could find a house that had any thing valuable in it, one wai 
 
Page 223. 
 
RICHARD TURPIN. 225 
 
 to knock at the door, which being opened, the rest should rush in 
 and plunder it, not only of plate, but of household goods. 
 
 The first person attacked in this manner was a Mr. Strype, an 
 old man who kept a chandler's-shop at Watford ; from whom they 
 only took the money he had by him; but Turpin informed his 
 companions that he knew an old woman at Loughton, who,., he 
 was certain, had seven or eight hundred pounds in her possession. 
 The plan being declared feasible, away they went, and coming to 
 the door, one of them knocked, and Turpin and the rest of the 
 gang rushed in. The first thing they did was to blindfold the old 
 lady and her maid. Turpin then examined the former touching 
 her money, upon which she declared that she had none, being 
 naturally loth to part with it. Some of the gang were inclined to 
 believe her, but Turpin, with an oath, declared that if she remained 
 obstinate he would set her on the fire. The poor old lady, imagin- 
 ing that this was a mere threat, suffered herself to be lifted on the 
 fire, till the anguish she had endured for a long time, compelled 
 her to disclose, and the gang retired with about 400J. 
 
 They then consulted together who should be their next victim, 
 and agreed to wait upon a farmer, near Ripple Side. The people 
 within not answering the door so soon as they would fain have had 
 it opened, they broke in, and according to their old custom, tied 
 the old man, the old woman, the servant-maid, and the farmer's 
 son-in-law. They then ransacked the house, and robbed the old 
 farmer of about 700/. Turpin, seeing so considerable a booty, 
 cried, " Ay, this would do, if it were always so," their share being 
 about 80/. a man. 
 
 The success the gang met with, made them resolve to proceed 
 against those who had attempted to detect them. They accordingly 
 agreed to attack the house of Mason, the keeper of Epping Forest. 
 The time was fixed when the house was to be attacked; but Turpin 
 having still a great deal of money in his possession, could not 
 refrain from coming up to London to spend it; and, getting drunk, 
 forgot the appointed time for putting their design into execution; 
 however, the rest, resolving not to be baulked, set out for Mason's 
 after having bound themselves by oath not to leave one whole piece 
 of goods in the house. Accordingly they went, broke open the 
 door, beat poor Mason in a cruel manner, and finally killed him 
 under the dresser. An old man sitting by the fireside, who declared 
 that he knew nothing of them, got off untouched. After ransacK- 
 uig the lower part of the house, and doing much mischief, iaty 
 iuuceeded up.stairs, and broke every thing in their way; at la< 
 Q 
 
S^ ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 t&pying a punch-bowl, they broke that, when out dropped a hundr?d 
 nud twenty guineas, which they seized upon and made off with. 
 
 Turpin, with five others, in January, 1735, came to the dour of 
 Mr. Saunders, a wealthy farmer, at Charlton in Kent, and knock- 
 ing, inquired if the gentleman of the house was at home : he was 
 answered he was, and that being the signal, they rushed in, and 
 going directly to the parlour where Mr. Saunders, his wife, and 
 some friends were amusing themselves at a quiet game of caids, 
 desired them on no account to be alarmed, for that they would 
 not hurt their persons, if they sat still and made no disturbance. 
 A silver snuff-box that lay upon the table, Turpin at once appro- 
 priated to himself, and the rest having bound the company, obliged 
 Mr. Saunders to accompany them about the house, and open his 
 closets and boxes, to prevent the necessity of laying violent hands 
 upon them, and perhaps upon himself. They then possessed them- 
 selves of upwards of a hundred pounds in money, besides other 
 property, including all the plate in the house. While this was 
 proceeding, the maid-servant, a girl with some presence of mind, 
 ran up-stairs, and barring herself in one of the rooms, called out 
 lustily at the window for assistance; but one of the rogues following 
 her, broke open the door with a poker, and brought her down again. 
 In their search for all things of value in the house, they hit upon 
 some bottles of wine, a bottle of brandy, and some mince-pies, 
 with which they immediately sat down and regaled themselves, 
 inviting the company to partake, indeed compelling them to drink 
 a dram of brandy each, to work off the fright. Mrs. Saunders, 
 however, fainted, and a glass of water with some drops in it was 
 instantly provided, with which they bathed her temples, and were 
 very anxious for her recovery. After staying about two hours in 
 the house, they packed up their plunder, and made off with it, 
 threatening the inmates of the house, that, if thoy stirred within 
 two hours, they would murder them. 
 
 The names of Turpin's principal associates were Fielder, Rose, 
 and Walker; there was another, also, whose name we have Dot 
 learned. These made an appointment to rob a gentleman's house 
 at Croydon, and for that purpose, agreed to meet at the Halt' Moon 
 tavern, which they accordingly did, about six o'clock in the even- 
 ing. Walker, having some knowledge of the house, went at the 
 head of his companions into the yard, and found the coachman 
 dressing his horses; him they bound, and going from thence met 
 Mr. Sheldon the master, whom they seized and compelled to sijw 
 them the way to the house. As soon at they entered, they tied 
 

 RICHARD TURPIN. 227 
 
 Mr, Sheldon's hands behind him with cords-, and having served 
 the rest of the family after the same fashion, fell to plundering the 
 house. Eleven guineas, and several pieces of plate, jewels, and 
 other things of value, was the result of this adventure; but before 
 they left the place they returned two guineas, thanked Mr. Sheldon 
 for the very courteous manner with which they had been received, 
 and bade him good night. 
 
 Their next design was upon the house of Mr. Lawrence, at 
 Edgeware-bury near Stanmore. About five o'clock they went from 
 the Queen's Head at Stanmore, and proceeded to the destined 
 spot. On their arrival, they left their horses at the outer gate, and 
 climbing over the hatch into the sheep-yard, met with a boy just 
 putting up some sheep. They seized him, and presenting a pisjol, 
 told him they would shoot him if he offered to cry out, but if he 
 would inform them truly what servants Mr. Lawrence kept, and 
 who was in the house, they would give him money. The boy, 
 terrified at their threats, told instantly what they desired, and 
 one of them thereupon knocked at the door. When it was opened 
 they all rushed in with pistols in their hands, and seizing Mr. 
 Lawrence, rifled his pockets, out of which they took one guinea, 
 a Portugal piece of thirty-six shillings, about fifteen shillings in 
 silver, and his keys. Dissatisfied with so small a booty, they then 
 drove him up-stairs, and breaking open a closet, plundered it of 
 money, silver cups and spoons, gold rings, and many other things 
 of value. A bottle of elder wine which they found, they divided 
 amongst the servants, lifting it to their mouths, as their hands were 
 pinioned behind them. A maid-servant who was churning in an 
 outhouse, hearing a noise, suspected there were thieves in the 
 house, and put out the candle to secret herself. One of them, 
 however, discovered her, and dragging her from her hiding-place, 
 menaced her with the most horrid threats if she raised an alarm. 
 All of them, indeed, disappointed and enraged at their ill-success, 
 (for they had calculated upon a rich return for their trouble and 
 hazard,) practised, on this occasion, the most savage cruelties. 
 Having stripped the house of every thing of worth, even to the 
 sheets from the beds, they dragged Mr. Lawrence down stairs again, 
 and declared, with the most dreadful oaths, they would cut his 
 throat if he hesitated to confess what money was in the house ! and 
 being answered that there was none excepting that which they had 
 taken, they beat him barbarously with the but-ends of their whips, 
 and inflicted a terrific cut upon his head with a pistol. One of 
 them took a chopping-bill, and swore he would cleave his legs off; 
 
2£ ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 another a kettle of water from the fire, and flung on him, which 
 happening, however, to have been recently filled, did no serious 
 injury. In their search, besides the beforementioned particulars, 
 they met with a chest belonging to one of Mr. Lawrence's sons, 
 which they broke open, taking therefrom twenty pounds, and all 
 his linen. Some of these things were afterwards traced to a place 
 called Duck-lane, where two of these fellows were apprehended. 
 
 Although in this robbery they got about 261. in money in* the 
 whole, yet they made no fair distribution of it amongst themselves. 
 The honour mentioned as existing amongst thieves, was, in this 
 instance, at any rate, something of that character which distin- 
 guishes their dealings with others not of their profession; for it 
 appeared upon evidence, that those who were most fortunate in the 
 plunder, on the division of the spoil, could bring their minds to 
 produce no more than three pounds nine shillings and sixpence. 
 
 These frequent and daring burglaries induced His Majesty to 
 offer a pardon to any one of the criminals who had been concerned 
 in entering the house of Mr. Lawrence, and committing such 
 atrocities on the evening of the fourth of February; and further, 
 a reward of bOl. to every person who should be instrumental in the 
 discovery ot any of the offenders. 
 
 Notwithstanding which, on the 7th of February, the party again 
 met by appointment, having fixed upon the White Hart in Drury- 
 lane, as the best place whereat to concert future depredations. 
 Accordingly, they agreed upon making an attempt to rob Mr. 
 Francis, a large fanner near Mary-le-bone, at whose house they 
 arrived shortly after seven. The details of this outrage are much 
 the same as the previous robberies in which they were engaged. 
 They succeeded in obtaining thirty-seven guineas and ten pounds 
 in silver, a quantity of jewels and linen, and the unfortunate Mr. 
 Francis's wig, all of which they carried off; not forgetting the 
 latter, the value of which, excepting to the owner, we are quite at 
 a loss to conceive. 
 
 They also formed a design to rob the house of a country justice, 
 and with that intention met at a public-house near Leigh. Not 
 rightly knowing, however, the way into the justice's domicile, they 
 concealed themselves under some furze bushes ; but while they 
 were thus lying in wait, they heard several persons riding alonj* 
 together, who happened to be some of the neighbouring farmers 
 returning from the table of the rustic Khadamanthus in a state of 
 noisy mirth, induced, doubtless, by the genial fumes of the justice's 
 wines; and by their conversation it was plain that there were others 
 
RICHARD TUB TIN. «» 
 
 still remaining there, who, dreading neither riotous suousea, liot 
 the midnight bottle, might probably have determined with wine 
 and song to " outwatch the bear ;" they therefore deemed it advisa- 
 ble not to attempt it that night, and adjourned accordingly their 
 attack to some more promising period, which so far proved of ad- 
 vantage to them, that it thereby prevented their being taken, as 
 otherwise they unavoidably would have been ; for they had been 
 observed by some of the neighbourhood, and being suspected as 
 smugglers, information was given to the custom-house, and a party 
 of dragoons sent out after them, whom they met; when after a 
 strict search, nothing having been found upon them, they were 
 suffered to pass. Thus the justice escaped. 
 
 These daring robberies at length roused the country, and one of 
 the King's keepers waited on the Duke of Newcastle, and obtained 
 His Majesty's promise of a reward of one hundred pounds to him 
 who should be fortunate enough to apprehend any of them. This 
 made them lie a little more concealed ; but some of the keepers and 
 others receiving intelligence that they were regaling themselves at 
 an ale-house in Westminster, they pursued them there, and burst- 
 ing open the door, took three, after a stout resistance; two of whom, 
 the third turning evidence against them, were hanged in chains 
 accordingly. Turpin, however, made his escape by leaping from 
 a window. 
 
 The gang thus broke up, and Turpin quite left to himself, made 
 a determination never to command another, but to go altogether 
 upon his own bottom; and with this view he set out for Cambridge, 
 as he was not known in that county. 
 
 Notwithstanding this resolve, the following strange encounter 
 provided him with his best companion (as he would call him) before 
 he reached his journey's end. King, the highwayman, who had 
 been towards Cambridge on professional business, was returning 
 to town. Turpin seeing him well mounted, and bearing the ap- 
 pearance of a gentleman, thought it was an excellent opportunity 
 to recruit his pockets, and accordingly, with a loud voice, com- 
 manded King to stand. King, enjoying the joke, though at the 
 prospect of a bullet through his head if he carried the jest too far, 
 assumed all the conduct of a person so unceremoniously addressed. 
 
 " Deliver!" shouted Turpin, " or by I'll let day-light through 
 
 you." "What," said King, laughing heartily, " what I dog eat 
 dog ! Come, come ! brother Turpin, if you don't know me, I know 
 you, and should be glad of your company." After mutual assur- 
 ances of fidelity to one another, and that nothing should part them 
 
231 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 till death, they agree 1 to go together upon some exploit, and met 
 with a small booty that very day ; after which they continued 
 together, committing divers robberies for nearly three years, when 
 King was accidentally shot. 
 
 King being very well known about the country, as likewise was 
 Turpin, insomuch that no house would entertain them, they formed 
 the idea of dwelling in a cave, and to that end pitched upon a place 
 inclosed with a large thicket, between Loughton Road and King's- 
 Oak-Road; here they made a place large enough to receive th&in 
 and two horses, and while they lay concealed there, they could see 
 through several holes, purposely made, what passengers went by 
 on either road, and as they thought proper sallied out and robbed 
 them, This they did in such a daring manner, and so frequently, 
 that it was not safe for any person to travel that way, and the very 
 higglers were obliged to go armed. In this *cave they drank and 
 lay; Turpin's wife supplied them with food, and frequently remain- 
 ed in the place all night with them. 
 
 From the forest, King and Turpin once tc*k a ride to Bungay 
 in Suffolk, where the latter had seen two young markeL-womeu 
 receive thirteen or fourteen pounds, and was determined to rob 
 them of it. King attempted to dissuade him from it, saying, they 
 were pretty girls, and he would never be engaged in an attempt to 
 deprive two hard-working women of their little gains. Turpin, 
 however, persisted, and coming up with them relieved them of the 
 burden of their coin, which exploit occasioned a dispute between 
 them. 
 
 As they were returning, they robbed a gentleman, who was 
 taking an airing in his chariot, with his two children. King first 
 attacked him, but found him so powerful and determined a person, 
 returning such sound replies in the shape of blows to poor King's 
 civilities, that he was fain to call upon his companion for assistance 
 Their united strength at last overcame him, and they took from 
 him all the money he had about him, and then demanded his watch, 
 which he declined on any account to part with; but one of the 
 children became frightened, and persuaded its father to let them 
 have it. They then insisted upon taking a mourning ring which 
 they observed he wore, and an objection was raised on his part, 
 even to that proposition. Finding, however, it was useless to 
 oppose them, he at length resigned it, telling them it was bet 
 worth eighteen pence, but that he much valued it. Upon which 
 information they returned it to him, saying, they were too much 
 of gentlemen to take anything which unother valued to much. 
 
RICHARD TUKP1N. 831 
 
 About this time the reward offered for the apprehension of Tur- 
 pin had induced several poor, but resolute men, to make an attempt 
 to get him into their power. Among the rest a man, groom to a 
 Mr. Thompson, tempted by the placard setting forth the golden 
 return in the event of success, connected himself with a higgler to 
 ward off suspicion, and commenced his search. Turpin one day 
 standing by himself in the neighbourhood of his cave, observed 
 some one who, he supposed, was poaching for hares, and saluted 
 him with, " No hares near this thicket; it's of no use seeking, 
 you'll not find any." — " Perhaps I shall a Turpin, though," repli- 
 ed the fellow, and levelled his piece at him. Seeing his danger, 
 Turpin commenced a parley, retreating at the same time by degrees 
 towards his cave, the groom following him with his gun presented. 
 " I surrender," said Turpin, when he reached the mouth of the 
 cavern, and the man dropping the point of his piece, the former 
 seized his carbine, and shot him dead on the spot. Turpin instantly 
 made off to another part of the country, in search of King, and 
 sent his wife a letter to meet him at a certain public-house, at which 
 in a few days, enquiring for her under a feigned name, he found 
 she was awaiting his appearance. The kitchen where she was, 
 happened to be at the back through a public room, where some 
 farmers and others were regailing themselves. On passing through, 
 a butcher, to whom he owed five pounds, recognized him, and tak- 
 ing him aside said, " I know you have money now, Dick; if you'd 
 pay me it would be of great service," — " My wife has certainly 
 money to some amount," replied Turpin, with a most unmoved 
 countenance ; " she is in the next place ; I'll get it of her, and pay 
 you presently." When Turpin was gone, the butcher apprized the 
 company who he was, and added, " I'll just get my five pounds of 
 him, and then we'll take him." Turpin, however, was not to be 
 so caught, and instead of going to his wife, leaped out of the next 
 window, took horse, and was off in an instant, much to the dis- 
 comfiture of the knight of the cleaver and the assembled company, 
 who doubtless had calculated most correctly the proportion of the 
 reward that would be due to each by virtue of the king's signet. 
 
 Having discovered King, and one of his associates whose name 
 was Potter, they determined to set out at once for London; and 
 coming over the forest about three hundred yards from the Green 
 Man, Turpin found that his horse, having undergone great fatigue, 
 began to tire. On such an occasion it was no question with Turpin 
 how he should provide himself with another, for, overtaking a gen- 
 tleman, the owner of several race-horses, he at once appropriated 
 
Stt ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 his steed and a hands -me whip to his own peculiar use, and recom- 
 mending his own broken-down jade to the kind consideration of 
 the party, speaking highly of his points, left him to mount the 
 sorry courser, and urge the wretched quadruped forward in the 
 host way he could. 
 
 This robbery was committed on a Saturday night, and on the 
 Monday following the gentleman received intelligence, that such 
 a horse as he had lost and described was left at an inn in Whi^e- 
 ehapel; he accordingly went there, and found it to be the same. 
 Nobody came for it at the time appointed, but about eleven o'clock 
 at night, King's brother called for the horse, and was seized imme- 
 diately. The whip he carried in his hand, the gentleman instantly 
 identified as that stolen from him, although the button upon which 
 his name had been engraved was half broken off; the latter letters 
 of his name, however, were plainly distinguishable upon the re- 
 maining part. They charged a constable with him, but he becom- 
 ing frig'htened, and on the assurance that if he spoke the truth he 
 should be released, confessed, that there was a lusty man, in a 
 white duffel coat, waiting for it in a street adjoining. One Mr. 
 Bayes immediately went out, and finding the man as directed, per- 
 ceived it was King. Coming round upon him, Mr. Bayes (the 
 then active landlord of the Green Man, to whom the gentleman at. 
 the time had related the robbery,) attacked him. King immediately 
 drew a pistol, which he pointed to Mr. Bayes's breast, but it luckily 
 flashed in the pan. A struggle then ensued, for King was a power- 
 ful man, and Turpin hearing the skirmish, came up, when King 
 
 cried out, "Dick, shoot him, or we are taken, by !" at which 
 
 instant Turpin fired his pistol, but it missed Mr. Bayes, and shot 
 King in two places. "Dick, you have killed me, make off," were 
 King's words as he fell, and Turpin, seeing what he had done, 
 clapped spurs to his horse, and made his escape. King lived for a 
 week afterwards, and gave Turpin the character of a coward, tell- 
 ing Mr Bayes that if he pleased to take him, he was to be found 
 at a certain house near Hackney Marsh, and that when he rode 
 away, he had three brace of pistols about him, and a carbine slung. 
 Upon inquiry, it was found that Turpin had actually been at the 
 hous-2 which King mentioned, and made use of something like thfl 
 lolbwing expressions to the man. " What shall I do? where shall 
 1 go? Dick Bayes, I'll be the death of you; for I have lost the 
 nest fellowman I ever had in my life; I shot poor King in endea- 
 vouring to kill that dog." The same resolution of revenge he re- 
 tained to the last, though without the power of effecting it. 
 
RICHARD TCUPIN, '& 
 
 After this, he still kept about the forest, till he was narrated 
 almost to death ; for he had lost his place of safety, the cave, which 
 was discovered upon his shooting Mr. Thompson's groom. When 
 they found the cave, there were in it two shirts in a bag, two pair 
 of stockings, part of a bottle of wine, and some ham. Turpin was 
 very nearly taken, while hiding in these woods, by a Mr. Ives, the 
 king's huntsman, who, thinking he was secreted there, took out 
 two dry-footed hounds ; but Turpin perceiving them coming, climbed 
 up a tree, and saw them stop beneath it several times, as though 
 they scented him, which so terrified Turpin, that as soon as they 
 were gone, he made a resolution of retiring that instant to York- 
 shire. 
 
 Soon after this, a person came out of Lincolnshire to Brough, 
 near Market-Cave, in Yorkshire, and stayed for some time at the 
 Ferry-house. He said his name was John Palmer; and he went 
 from thence sometimes to live at North Cave, and sometimes at 
 Welton, continuing in these places about fifteen or sixteen months, 
 except such part of the time as he went to Lincolnshire to see his 
 friends, which he frequently did, and as often brought three or 
 four horses back with him, which he used to sell or exchange in 
 Yorkshire. While he so lived at Brough, Cave, and Welton, he 
 very often went out hunting and shooting with the gentleman in 
 the neighbourhood. As he was returning one day from shooting, 
 he saw one of his landlord's cocks in the street, and raising his 
 gun, shot it dead. A man, his neighbour, witnessing so wanton 
 an act, complained of such conduct, asking him by what authority 
 he shot another man's property. " Wait one moment," said Mr. 
 Palmer, "just stay till I have charged my piece, and I'll shoot you 
 too." The landlord being informed of the loss he had sustained 
 by the death of his favorite bird, and the man who saw the act, 
 being enraged at the threat Palmer had used towards him, they 
 both obtained a warrant against him, and he was brought up at the 
 General Quarter Sessions, where he was examined. Sureties for 
 his good behaviour in future were the penalty alone exacted from 
 him, which, however, refusing to find, he was committed to the 
 House of Correction. His conduct thus excited great suspicion; 
 for it was strange that a man who was in the habit of bringing 
 from his friends in Lincolnshire half-a-dozen horses at a time, and 
 plenty of money, should be so forsaken as not to be able to provide 
 sureties ; and still stranger, that on so trivial an occasion as the 
 present, if he could find them at all, he did not produce them. A 
 man's pride under other circumstances might be concerned, or a 
 
231 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN, 
 
 consciousness of innocence that excluded the possibility, or the 
 benefit of release, under other conditions than free acquittal ; but 
 on a charge of this nature, which might have been made up even 
 by the purchase of a fowl, or a simple excuse, his refusal was very 
 suspicious. Enquiries were set on foot in all quarters ; and the 
 magistrate, not contented with the accounts he gave of himself of 
 having been a grazier in Lincolnshire, despatched officers to learn 
 how far that statement was consistent with truth. The result was 
 a confirmation of Palmer's account, so far as the fact of his haVng 
 lived in Lincolnshire, and having been a grazier there; that is, 
 that there he had something to do with sheep, confined principally 
 to the expert practice of stealing them. Mr. Palmer, upon the 
 receipt of this information, was removed from the Beverley house 
 of correction to York castle, and accommodated on the way with 
 the use of hand-cuffs, and a guard of honour. When he arrived 
 at his new abode, two persons from Lincolnshire challenged a mare 
 and a foal which he had sold to a gentleman, and also the horse on 
 which he rode when he came to Beverley, to be stolen from them 
 off the fens in Lincolnshire. We need not add that Mr. Palmer 
 was one and the same person with Dick Turpin, the notorious 
 highwayman. 
 
 Turpin at one time, with another fellow, laid a scheme for seizing 
 the Government money, ordered to be paid to the ships at Ports- 
 mouth. Both of them were to have attacked the guard in a narrow 
 pass, with sword and pistol in hand ; but Turpin's courage failed 
 him, and the enterprize dropped. Gordon, his accomplice in this 
 design, was afterwards taken on a charge in which he alone was 
 concerned ; and while in Newgate he declared that " after that, 
 Turpin would be guilty of any cowardly action, and die like a 
 dog." 
 
 Turpin was tried and convicted of stealing the horse and the 
 foal and mare from the fens, and was executed on Saturday, April 
 7th, 1739. He behaved himself with remarkable assurance, and 
 bowed to the spectators as he passed. It was observed that as he 
 mounted the ladder his right leg trembled, on which he stamped it 
 down with violence, and with daunted unfortitude looked around 
 him. After speaking to the executioner for nearly half an hour, 
 he threw himself off the ladder, and expired in about five minutes. 
 
 His corpse was brought back from the gallows and buried in a 
 neat coffin in St. George's churchyard. The grave was dug deep, 
 and the persons he appointed to follow him (mourners we hesitate 
 <o call them, for we cannot imagine anybody to mourn upon the 
 
HENRY COOK. m 
 
 aeath of such an unprecedented ruffian,) those persons whoever 
 tney were, however, took all possible care to secure the corpse; 
 notwithstanding which, some men were discovered to be moving 
 off" the body, which they had taken up ; and the mob having got 
 information where it might be found, went to a garden in which it 
 was ueposited, and brought it away in a sort of triumph, and 
 buried it in the same grave having first filled the coffin with slacked 
 lime. 
 
 HENRY COOK, 
 
 Henry Cook was one of nineteen or twenty of a family, and his 
 parents were industrious and respected in their station. The 
 father being a leather merchant, young Cook was instructed in the 
 same business, and provided with a suitable stock. He conducted 
 himself with propriety for some years, and being married to a 
 reputable woman, seemed to promise a life of respectability and 
 usefulness. It happened, however, that running in debt, he was 
 forced to abscond, lest he should be arrested. In these unpleasant 
 circumstances, he went from place to place, and being informed 
 that the bailiff threatened he would have him if he stayed above 
 ground, he provided a pair of pistols, and sent that officer word 
 that he was prepared for his approach, and that the moment he 
 came it should be his last. He therefore heard no more of him. 
 After skulking about for some time, he ventured home to his 
 wife one evening ; but finding a stranger there, he resolved to live 
 no longer with her. He emptied his shop of what things he could 
 carry, and went to secrete himself in his sister's house. He next 
 provided himself with a pair of pistols, and commenced highway- 
 man. Though he began on foot, he soon obtained a horse, and 
 with no small success carried on his depredations. After four rob- 
 beries, from which he only received thirteen pounds, thirteen 
 shillings, his career was nearly terminated. Having robbed a 
 gentleman of his horse, and some days after, riding along, seven 
 or eight men came up to him, and had not rode a mile, when one 
 of them challenged his horse, as the one advertised to have been 
 stolen by a highwayman at such a time and place. " According- 
 ly," says Cook, " he imperiously demanded of me an account of 
 myself, and how I came by that horse. I told him that I lived iu 
 
236 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 London, and had purchased the horse of a man at the Bell Inn, 
 at Edmonton, and that if he would go there along with me, he 
 would be satisfied of the truth of what I said." By this stratagem, 
 Cook hoped to have separated him from his companions, given him 
 his friend's horse instead of his own, and taken his cash for giving 
 him so much trouble. But all the paity went along with him, so 
 that, when he came near the inn, he was greatly at a loss how to 
 extricate himself from this unpleasant dilemma; but at the gate of 
 the inn he put spurs to his horse, and rode down a lane ; their horses 
 however, being fresher, he took toward a wood, when, his horse 
 refusing to leap, four of his troublesome companions were within 
 forty yards of him, when he fired, and demanded them to stand 
 off. They stopped, when he alighted from his horse, and ran into 
 the wood. 
 
 Having been thus alarmed, he remained inactive for some days, 
 but venturing out again, he attacked an old man, robbed him of 
 his money and horse; and had not proceeded far, when he met 
 another man with a better horse, which he took, and what money 
 and useful articles he found upon him. The latter gentleman had 
 not proceeded far on his journey, when he met the old man, who 
 claimed his horse, else he would inform upon him as a robber. 
 The other then gave him his horse, and walked home upon fool. 
 After some days' carousing, till his money was spent, Cook went 
 out again ; but, to his astonishment, within a little of the place 
 where he had robbed the man of his money and his horse, he was 
 dismounted, seized, carried before a magistrate, and committed 
 to Newgate. His accuser, however, was so favourable as not to 
 swear that he was the man who robbed him, though the animal 
 upon which Cook rode was certainly the prosecutor's horse. This 
 being the first time that he had been apprehended, his father and 
 neighbours appeared in his behalf, got him clear off, and, elated 
 with his acquittal, took him home with them to his wife and family 
 
 Upon his return, he found his affairs in an embarrassed condition, 
 and inquiring of William Taylor, the man who conducted his busi- 
 ness, he found there were no good debts outstanding, nor any funds 
 wherewith to renew his operations with apparent success. Thus 
 circumstanced, he resolved to go to London, and purchase a pair 
 of pistols, in order to rob between his own house and the forest 
 until his funds were recruited. Having done so, he soon gained 
 30/. and consulting with Taylor how to lay out the money, he told 
 him how he had gained it, and added, " let us go and make it ten 
 Umos more, and then think of buying leather." The proposal was 
 
HENRY SIMMS. 237 
 
 accepted, and repairing to London, they purchased what things 
 were necessaiy. They then commenced with great boldness stop- 
 ping all coaches and individuals, so that they soon found their 
 present employment a speedier way of making money than selling 
 leather or making shoes. But one day attacking the stage-coach 
 at Colchester, a captain Mawley shot Taylor, and his companion 
 ran off. 
 
 This accident rendered it impossible for Cook to return home; 
 he therefore concealed himself for a few days, and again provided 
 himself with a good horse, and went forth with the most desperate 
 resolution of revenging Taylor's death, by taking the life of Captain 
 Mawley, if he could possibly find him. After various daring rob- 
 beries, he was at last discovered by a woman that knew him, and 
 was taken; and several witnesses appearing against him, he was 
 sentenced to suffer the due reward of his numerous and aggravated 
 crimes. 
 
 HENRY SIMMS, 
 
 CALLED 
 
 h THE YOUNG GENTLEMAN.*' 
 
 We prefer giving an abstract of the life and adventures of this 
 notorious criminal in his own words, since it will serve to show 
 far better than any moral reflections of our own, that when once 
 the principles become vitiated, whether by early abuse or habitual 
 moral recklessness, the very nature is changed, and the con- 
 science remains in a state of abeyance. There is an easy uncon- 
 cern, a ' young gentleman' flippancy in the style in which our ad- 
 venturer has chosen to narrate his exploits, that indicates too 
 plainly the utter want of common or decent feeling in his nature, 
 and leaves us to the unavoidable conclusion that under no possible 
 circumstances, nor in any conceivable condition, could * Young 
 Gentleman Harry' have become or have been made a respectable 
 member of society. He begins his narrative thus: — 
 
 " I am now thirty years of age, born in London, October 19, 
 1716, of .honest industrious parents, in the parish of St. Martin's- 
 in- the -Fields. Having the misfortune to lose both my father and 
 mother when very young, 1 was left to the care of an indulgent 
 
i.*iS, ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 grandmother, who tenderly loved me, had me educated with ma- 
 ternal fondness, and early began to instil into me sentiments of 
 virtue, honour, and honesty, from which I too early swerved. My 
 grandmother having been many years in the service of a nobleman, 
 was an old servant much respected, and on that account not only 
 ndulged with having her grandson with her, but was likewise 
 indulged with my being permitted to go to Eton School with two 
 sons of the noble lord. I remained at Eton School some time, ajid 
 even there began to show an early inclination to vice, without an 
 opportunity of committing it. When I arrived at the age of four- 
 teen, my grandmother put me apprentice to a breeches-maker, but 
 a life of servitude ill suited my constitution. I stayed with him 
 no longer than a month, in which short time I procured to myself 
 several choice acquaintances, particularly two (since hanged,) and 
 was easily persuaded to accompany them in many robberies, which 
 we committed in and about Mary-le-bone fields, and the money we 
 got we riotously spent among thieves and bullies, and when that 
 was gone, turned out (as we called it) for more. 
 
 " Thus some months passed on in a round of wickednes.s which 
 not all the counsel in the universe could restrain. My poor grand- 
 mother with tears in her eyes entreated me to leave off my wicked 
 courses, and to follow her instructions. But I little regarded her 
 advice, and still pursued my old schemes. There was hardly a 
 place round London famed for wickedness, but I was there. Tot- 
 tenham Court Fair, when it came, I rejoiced at, for there 1 lived 
 riotously, and there too I became a proficient in the dexterous art 
 of picking pockets, by which I gained for some time pretty hand- 
 somely. But at length that business grew dead, and, as I lived 
 at a large rate, money was wanting. Accordingly, having mus- 
 tered up a sufficient quantity of cash, I purchased a pair of pistols 
 and ahorse, and set out; and on Epping Forest, near Woodford, 
 .1 stopped two gentlemen in a chaise and pair, from whom I took 
 only a little silver, and proceeded on to Newmarket, where I arriv- 
 ed that night, and early next morning set out again, stopped the 
 Norwich coach, and took from the passengers thirty guineas, a 
 gold watch, and a diamond ring, and then rode away ; and about, 
 three hours after, near Littlebury, met the Cambridge coach, from 
 the passengers of which I took about five pounds, and came on for 
 London. I now began to frequent a noted gaming-house in Coveut 
 Garden, where, for several nights I had a prodigious run of luck, 
 and won a considerable sum of money. I bought myself a silver 
 hilted sword, had several new suits of clothes made, particular!) 
 
HENRY SIMMS. 23S 
 
 rne suit of black velvet, and appeared at all my usual haunts with 
 surprising eclat. It was at this time that I gained the name of 
 * Gentleman Harry,' for though I was before only called plain 
 Harry, yet, on this my sudden grand appearance, I was christened 
 ' Gentleman Harry,' which name I retained for ever. But fortune 
 not continuing her favours at the gaming-table, I was once more 
 reduced, and obliged to take up again my old trade. Hitherto, 
 what business I had done was by myself; but being out one day 
 with a companion, we agreed to attack the first person we met 
 with powder and shot. We saw nothing for some days that we 
 either cared or dared to attack, till we came to a place called 
 Eversley Bank, where we met a collector of Shrewsbury; we 
 ordered him to stand and deliver, and took from him near three 
 hundred pounds. For this robbery two men were taken up a short 
 time after, tried at the assizes, capitally convicted, and executed : 
 and I cannot but own, that, notwithstanding my hardened villainy, 
 so often as I remembered it, I felt a good deal of sorrow at being 
 the cause of shedding innocent blood, which I always avoided and 
 abhorred. 
 
 * About a month after this I robbed a lady on Blackheath, in 
 her coach. After the robbery, riding down the hill that leads to 
 Lewisham Wash, I was overtaken by six or seven butchers, one 
 of whom seizing the cape of my coat, pulled me off my horse, and 
 the cape giving way, he tore it quite off. I then pulled out my 
 pistols, swearing I would shoot the first man who dared to advance; 
 which none of them caring to do, I retreated into the fields and 
 got off with the loss of my horse, which cost me seventeen pounds. 
 But I was not long without a horse, for, going towards Bromley, 
 I met a gentleman on horseback, to whom I presented my pistols, 
 ordering him to. dismount or I would shoot him through the head ; 
 which he did, and 1 took from him eight guineas and seventeen 
 shillings in silver, and, mounting the horse, left him to pursue his 
 journey on foot. I sold the horse the next day at the George, in 
 Farnham, and bought another, which cost me thirteen guineas. 
 From thence I proceeded to Tunbridge, at which place I stayed a 
 day or two, and then came to London, where I found an old com- 
 panion, a sailor, who agreed to turn out with me. At the bottom 
 of Shooter's Hill we robbed a gentleman of his gold watch, and 
 about seventeen pounds : the watch I afterwards sold for nine 
 pounds at the gaming-table, in Covent Garden, and lost the money 
 when I had done. 
 11 Being by this time pretty well known, 1 ran great hazards*, it 
 
840 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 was but a very few days after 1 lost my money as above, I grai 
 attacked by several soldiers in Drury Lane, and should have been 
 carried to the Savoy, had I not been rescued by some of my friends 
 from Covent Garden; and in about a week after that, I was taken 
 out of a tavern for the robbery of a gold watch which I had about 
 me, and was again rescued by my companions. Some little time 
 after this, I was attacked by about nine gentlemen thief-takers, 
 iu Bridewell Walk, Clerkenwell, but having my pistols about me, 
 I soon dispersed the cowardly rascals, and walked off'. Another 
 time, riding on horse-back through Covent Garden, I was pursued 
 by a party of thief-takers, but got clear. 
 
 " Being in this manner continually beset on all sides, I was at 
 length, by the perfidy of some ladies with whom I was in company 
 at Goodman's Fields Wells, taken bv a party of thief-takers, and 
 conducted to Clerkenwell Bridewell, where several prosecutions 
 were commenced against me, and I was obliged to come to a com- 
 position with divers of them, which drained me very low. One 
 gentleman in particular, whom I had robbed of only eleven shillings 
 and a small medal, made me pay him forty-seven guineas. By 
 these means, having got rid of my several prosecutors, 1 was by- 
 order of the Court of Justice, confined in Clerkenwell Bridewell 
 two months for an assault, at the end of which time I was set at 
 liberty, giving sureties for my good behaviour for two years. It 
 was not long after I was discharged, before I was pressed and sent 
 on board His Majesty's ship the Rye, where 1 continued for about 
 three months, though much against my inclination; being con- 
 tinually forming some scheme for an escape, not one of which 
 schemes took effect till the following was hit upon. Whilst we 
 were at Leith, we had pressed several hands out of some colliers, 
 who, I found by talking to, were as little desirous of staying on 
 board as myself; I therefore proposed to eight of them this scheme : 
 — that when the cutter, which had been on shore pressing, came 
 alongside at night, one of them should fall out of the main-chains 
 into the river, and the rest of us should immediately jump into the 
 boat and take the man up, and row away, which we put in practice 
 with success, only, just as we had got up our man, the boatswain 
 jumped on board and threatened us. My companions were for 
 throwing him over-board, but on his promising to be quiet they 
 Were over-ruled, and he was suffered to sit still; and, notwith- 
 standing several guns were fired after us, we rowed safe to shore, 
 and left the boat to the care of the boatswain to carry back if he 
 thought proper. Being safe on shore, we took leave of each other : 
 
HENRY SIMMS. 2i\ 
 
 triev set out for Scarborough, and 1 for Edinburgh, in which city 
 1 stayed about a week, and during that time became acquainted 
 with a Scotch lassie, who not only furnished me with money to 
 purchase my former implements, but lent me seven guineas to bear 
 my expenses to London, which lasted me no farther than Grantham; 
 and between Grantham and Stamford I was obliged to speak with 
 the York stage, from the passengers of which I took eight guineas, 
 about seventeen shillings in silver, a silver watch, and three plain 
 gold rings, with which I came to London. 
 
 " In a short space of time after this, 1 committed many robberies 
 by myself, which I did not exactly minute down. My general ren- 
 dezvous was about Epping Forest, where I robbed the Harwich 
 coach, the Cambridge coach, the Norwich coach, &c, to a pretty 
 large amount, which I spent as fast as I got. About this time, I 
 kept company with another man's wife, who was so fond of me, 
 that I could persuade her either out of cash or any valuables she 
 had, to supply my present necessities : as was the case when I per- 
 suaded her out of her gold watch, and some other things, which her 
 husband took me up upon and I was committed to Newgate, tried 
 at the Old Bailey, and acquitted by the court, who very justly saw 
 through the prosecution. After my being discharged on this affair, 
 L unluckily, in a quarrel, ran a crab-stick into a woman's eye in 
 Goodman's-fields, for which I was sent to New Prison. In the 
 mean time, I was informed that the wife was arrested on an action 
 and sent to a sponging-house. Being determined to relieve her, if 
 possible, I contrived in what manner I could make my escape, and, 
 accordingly, by the help of sheets I let myself down out of my 
 window and got off, 1 immediately went to a friend of mine in 
 Leather-lane, who furnished me with two pistols, with which 1 went 
 to the sponging-house in Gray's-inn-lane, expecting to find my lady; 
 but when I came there I found she had been removed to Newgate. 
 Being thus disappointed, and having no hopes of getting her out 
 of Newgate, I determined to go to work at my old trade. 
 
 " In Broad-street, St. Giles's, about nine at night, I stopped a 
 coach which contained a single gentleman, from whom I took about 
 seventeen shillings, and from thence went to my old haunts in Co- 
 vent Garden, and after drinking pretty freely, I had a quarrel with 
 a gentleman, who calling the watch to his assistance, I was taken 
 and carried to the Covent Garden round-house. Being very much 
 fuddled, I soon went to sleep : but when I waked next morning, 
 and found myself in a prison, after having escaped from one but 
 the night before, 1 was almost distracted, and began to contrive an 
 B 
 
U> ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 escape, but to no purpose; for after calling tor the keeper of tho 
 round-house, under pretence of being hungry, 1 got toast and ale, 
 and therewith a knife, with which I hoped once more to make a breach 
 whereby to escape. But 1 was doomed to be disappointed; for 
 notwithstanding my cutting down the plaster and laths of the ceil- 
 ing, the joists were so firm that I could not make an opening. I 
 then grew desperate, broke all the things 1 could find in the room, 
 cut the sheets to pieces, pulled off some tiles from the roof, and did 
 every offensive act in my power, till at length the constable with a 
 large posse of myrmidons arrived, who carried me before Sir Thomas 
 De Veil, where, after a long examination, I laid my information 
 of the robbery of Mr. Smith in Southwark, which robbery I was ac- 
 tually concerned in, though not with the persons I swore against 
 at Croydon assizes, but with three others. We committed the rob- 
 bery in December, 1745, getting in at the two-pair-of-stairs window 
 by a Jacob, that is, a ladder of ropes, which was fixed to the sign- 
 post first, drawn afterwards into the balcony, and then attached to 
 the two-pair-of-stairs window. We took from Mr. Smith's house, 
 after frightening Mrs. Smith almost to death, two bags of money 
 containing 514/. and a 20/. bank-note, and carried off in bags goods 
 to the value of 800/. The cash we divided equally amongst us at 
 a house in the Mint; the plate we sold; and we carried the goods 
 to a house near the Pindar of Wakefield, nearPancras; but for 
 my share of the goods I never received one penny ; they were car- 
 ried to Ireland by my three accomplices, who promised to remit 
 me mv part, but were never so good as their words. After my ex- 
 amination I was removed to the New Gaol, Southwark, to give 
 evidence at the assizes at Croydon. 
 
 " After this affair at Croydon, I was removed by habeas to New- 
 gate, on the oath of a barber at Westminster, whom I had robbed, 
 which barber was found out by some of my enemies to prosecute 
 me ; and upon his indictment 1 was tried, found guilty, and sen- 
 tenced to transportation ; and, about two months alter, was with 
 several other convicts put on board the Italian Merchant, which 
 carried us to Maryland. On our passage I had formed several plans 
 for an escape, one of which had nearly been successful, and was 
 
 agreed upon between me and the rest of tho transports. We were 
 
 at a certain time to have secured the Captain and sailors, as well 
 as the lire-arms, and to have inn away with tin- ship, but one of 
 them discovered ii to the captain, who put us in irons, and kept a 
 
 watchful eve on us during the remainder of the voyage* When 
 
 we arrived at Maryland, I was disposed of to the master of the 
 
HENRY SIMMS. 243 
 
 Two Sisters, who was in want of sailors, and with whom I went to 
 sea. We had not been out many days before we were taken by a 
 privateer of Bayonne, and carried into Spain. We were all sent 
 on shore, and had papers given to us to go to Portugal. When I 
 arrived at Oporto, I was pressed on board his Majesty's ship the 
 King Fisher, where I remained about four months, in which time 
 we took several prizes. But not liking my station, I left her at 
 Oporto, travelled to Lisbon, and got in the Hanover packet to Fal- 
 mouth, where I stayed about a month. My companions endea- 
 voured to persuade me to go a privateering with them in the War- 
 ner galley; but I refused, and leaving Falmouth travelled to St. 
 Ives, where I found a vessel ready to sail for Bristol, on board of 
 which I went, and arrived at Bristol in two days. 1 was not long 
 there before I determined to set up my old trade, and procured a 
 pair of pistols, though I still wanted a horse ; but having observed 
 several horses in a field near Lawford's-gate, I soon marked out 
 one for myself, and that night got into a stable, from whence I 
 stole a saddle and bridle, and without much difficulty caught my 
 horse, and set out for London. 
 
 " When I reached London, I was soon informed the thief-takers 
 were after me. The night I came to town, I put my horse up at 
 the White Swan, in Whitechapel, but went no more near him, 
 fearful, as I had stolen him, he might be advertised. But I was 
 not long without a horse, for one Saturday night, about eight o'clock, 
 coming from St. James's, where I had been regaling with some 
 friends, I perceived a boy in Rider-street walking a horse about, 
 apparently waiting for somebody. I called and persuaded him to 
 step on an arrand into Duke-street while I held the horse, and, as 
 soon as the boy was gone, I mounted and rode away, and crossing 
 the country reached Harrow-on-the-Hill, where I passed the night, 
 and the next day set out towards London in hopes of meeting some 
 of the farmers returning from the hay-markets, after having sold 
 their hay. I had drunk pretty freely at dinner and was somewhat 
 elevated. I had not ridden far before I met three gentlemen, whom 
 I commanded to * stand and deliver their money,' which they did 
 very quietly. From the first I got about three pounds, from the 
 second I had about five pounds, and from the third thirteen or four- 
 teen shillings. 
 
 " The next person I robbed was Mr. Sleep, my prosecutor, and 
 though neither he nor I recognized each other at that time, yet he, 
 it seems, has known me from a cliPd. I took from him his watch 
 and six shillings, and made off, 
 
244 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 " After robbing M.. Sleep, I still kept travelling towards 1 on- 
 don, in hopes of meeting the farmers ; at length, five of them ip- 
 peared, whom I commanded ' to stop,* and took from them about 5 ?. 
 in silver. I felt in their pockets for watches, but they had n i) \ 
 Next I met three men, whom I ordered ' to stop;' but they, l it 
 regarding my orders, refused, and rode full speed, and I alone | j e 
 of them, for at least five or six minutes, presenting my pi ) 1, 
 swearing 1 would shoot if they did not stop : but they still ro<)f: on ; 
 and I turned from them, giving them a hearty d — n, not cariu/to 
 let off my pistol; for I had determined to shoot no man, unless he 
 attempted to take me. But after this, on the same roi.J, 1 robbed 
 two more men ; from one I took about fifteen shilling?, t'lom another 
 about seven shillings. Turning from them 1 let r % one of my pis- 
 tols into the air, and went on for London. 
 
 " That night I made a sort of perambulation among the thief- 
 takers, determining to do mischief to some of them, if possible, 
 especially to those who, I heard, had been after me. The first I went 
 to was one W. H. in Chancery-lane. Being on horseback, I knock- 
 ed at the door, which his wife opened, demanding my business. I 
 told her, * to speak with her husband.' She replied, ■ he was gone 
 to bed,' at the same time desiring to know my name and business. 
 ' I am a gentleman of his acquaintance,' said I; ' he will know 
 me when he sees me.' My blunderbuss, which J then carried, be- 
 ing mounted with brass, and having a brass barrel, by the light of 
 her candle she perceived it, and directly slapped to the door, called 
 to her husband, and told him (mentioning my name) that I was at 
 the door. I could hear him ask for his piece, on which I cried out, 
 1 You rascal, come to the door, and I'll piece you;' and if he had 
 come I should certainly have killed him, but he thought better of 
 it, and I rode away. 
 
 " From my friend H. I went to another of the same sort of gen- 
 try in Holborn, one I. S. I got off my horse and went into his 
 house threatening destruction ; but the moment he saw me enter 
 at one door, he went out at another, and after venting a few oaths, 
 I remounted my horse, and went to the Greyhound inn, in Drury- 
 lane, where I lay that night. 
 
 " Next morning I set out for Epping Forest, and dined at the 
 Bird-in-Hand, at Stratford : after dinner, about two o'clock, I set 
 out on the Romford road. I met on the forest a chaise, and from a 
 man therein took about fourteen shillings. This robbery was don*? 
 within sight of the Spread Eagle, at the door of which several 
 people were drinking on horseback. From thence I ro4e througn 
 
HENRY SIMMS. 245 
 
 xlford, then came on the forest again, and stayed till it was almos 1 
 dark, and rode towards Laytonstone, within half a mile of which 
 I robbed a captain of his gold watch, ten guineas, and some silver. 
 After speaking with the captain, 1 came off the forest for London. 
 Perceiving a hurly-burly, and a great mob at Snaresbrook turn- 
 pike, I rode up to see what was the matter, and on enquiry amongst 
 the mob, found that they had stopped a gentleman whom they mis- 
 took for me. As it was dark and they could not distinguish me, 1 
 thought it most prudent to ride through the turnpike, and go directly 
 for London, which I did, and putting up my horse at the Saracen's 
 Head, Aldgate, and calling a coach, I went to a tavern, where I 
 lay all night. 
 
 In the morning I began to reflect that, it being well known I 
 was in England returned from transportation, and as well known 
 too that I had committed a great many robberies, there were many 
 thief-takers after me, and I was surrounded with danger; and I 
 therefore determined to set out for Chester immediately, and from 
 thence to Dublin, resolving, as I had now a handsome sum, as 
 well as a parcel of diamond rings and watches, to live entirely on 
 my stock, and rob no more, at least while that lasted, I dined 
 that day at St. Alban's, and as I generally drank both at and after 
 my meals pretty freely, I soon grew warm, and after dinner, setting 
 out for Dunstable, I found my resolution to rob no more would not 
 hold, for within a quarter of a mile of Redbourne, I ordered three 
 gentlemen to stand and deliver. Presenting my pistol at the first, 
 he replied, that he would not be robbed, and rode on ; the second 
 hit me on the head with his whip, and at the same time the other 
 rode by me. Having a good beast under me, I was quickly up 
 with them, and putting on one of my terrible countenances, with 
 bitter imprecations I vowed that I would instantly shoot the first 
 man dead who refused to deliver: when one of them quietly gave 
 me about nine shillings ; from the second I took an old-fashioned 
 watch and seventeen shillings; and from the third, two guineas 
 and about five shillings, and taking my leave immediately, attacked 
 two more gentlemen, who likewise rode for it; but their horses being 
 as good as mine, I ran them into Redbourne, and then gave it up. 
 About an hour after, I stopped a single man on horseback, who 
 telling me he had but eighteen-pence, I bade him keep that; but 
 lie seeming to have a very good horse and mine beginning to fail, 
 1 made him dismount and change with me. He had a portmanteau 
 on his horse, which he was very industriously going to take off, 
 but I told him he might as well let it remain where it was, which 
 
246 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 he did, though I had no opportunity to see what was in it; for being 
 now become, perhaps, one of the most industrious of my profession, 
 I could no more let a coach, chaise, or man go by without speaking 
 with them in my way, than I could fly, and perceiving a coach 
 coming along, which proved to be the Warrington stage, I directly 
 made up to it, and got from the passengers therein about three 
 pounds. The ladies seemed terribly frightened, and begged I 
 would take my pistol away, which I did, and after taking th*ir 
 money I went on for Dunstable, and calling at several houses 
 before I got there, I became pretty fatigued, not only with my 
 business, but with liquor too. Being very much fuddled, I was so 
 cunning as to think of putting up at the Bull inn, at Dunstable, the 
 very house where the Warrington coach went to. After dismounting 
 my horse, and calling for a quartern of brandy, I saw some of the 
 passengers in the kitchen, belonging to the coach I had just then 
 robbed, on which, I never stayed for my brandy, but went out of 
 the house, mounted my horse, and rode as fast as I could make him 
 go, till I came to HockclifFe, and as it rained very hard, I resolved 
 to put up, and accordingly went into the Star inn. After I had 
 been there about an hour, and had drunk very freely, I became 
 intoxicated, and fell asleep by the kitchen fire ; but was soon 
 awakened by three troopers and some others with pistols at my 
 head, swearing they would shoot me if I offered to put my hand to 
 my pockets. Being half asleep as well as drunk, they soon dis- 
 armed me, and took from me one gold watch, two silver ones, four 
 diamond rings, forty-seven guineas in gold, and four pounds in 
 silver: three of the best diamond rings I had secreted in my neck- 
 cloth. I desired them to give me my money again, and to let me 
 go to bed; they gave me about nine pounds in gold and silver back, 
 and then conducted me to a chamber, where I went to bed, after 
 putting my money under my pillow, and fell asleep, guarded by 
 the troopers, who took my money from under my head, which, 
 when I awoke and missed, I charged them with, telling them it 
 was using me exceedingly ill indeed, as they had gotten so much 
 from me already, to take that from me too ; whereupon, they re- 
 turned it to me. Presently, I got up and sat by the fire-side, a 
 good deal chagrined at my unfortunate fate. I resolved in my mind 
 a thousand different methods of escape, but none appeared feasible 
 even to myself. At length, a thought came into my bead, of which 
 I was resolved to make a trial. As 1 knew these troopers, from 
 tiieir behaviour, to be hungry hounds, and having two seals, the 
 one gold and the other silver about me ; as I sat over the lire, i 
 
JAMES MACLAINE. 24* 
 
 determined to throw them in, naturally supposing, from their eager- 
 ness after plunder, they would endeavour to get them out, and I 
 mi^ht thus, by some means or other, become master of their tire- 
 arms. It happened as I hadimagined; eager for their prey they fell 
 down to rake them from the ashes, when 1 at the same time snatch- 
 ed a pistol from one of their hands and snapped it at his head : it 
 missed fire, and I was immediately overpowered by the rest of the 
 troopers, the landlord and others coming to their assistance; and 
 I was the next day carried before the justice at Dunstable, where 
 I insisted upon the troopers returning me my money and watches 
 again, before I would answer any questions, and, accordingly, I 
 undressed their pockets both of money and watches, asking them 
 if they thought I had nothing else to do than to venture my life to 
 dress the pockets of such fellows as they, who knew not how to 
 wind up a watch; for in endeavouring to wind up one of the watches 
 they had broken it. 
 
 " I was eventually committed to Bedford gaol for robbing the 
 Warrington stage-coach, where 1 remained about four months, till 
 I was removed by habeas corpus to Newgate, and in February last 
 was tried at the Old Bailey for robbing Mr. Francis Sleep of his 
 watch and six shillings, of which 1 was found guilty, and re 
 ceived sentence of death." 
 
 The above is an abstract containing all the most interesting or 
 prominent transactions in the life of Henry Simms, who appears 
 to have laboured in his vocation with a zeal worthy of better calling, 
 and with a wantonness deserving of the gallows to which, at length, 
 he was compelled to ascend. Young Gentleman Harry was ex- 
 ecuted at Tyburn, in June, 1747; and after hanging till he was 
 dead, his body was cut down by a mob appointed for that purpose, 
 and carried to a surgeon's in Covent Garden. 
 
 JAMES MACLAINE. 
 
 James Maclaine, called in his own time by the distinguished 
 title of " The gentleman highwayman," seemed at his birth to be 
 far removed from the common temptations which too frequently lead 
 to an infamous death. Until the decease of his father, which took 
 place when he was about eighteen years of age, a fair prospect of 
 prosperity was presented to him; but, unhappily, being conscious 
 
248 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 of his birth, which entitled him, by a slight straining of courtesy, 
 to the designation of a gentleman, he imbibed, together with an 
 inordinate vanity, an aversion from business, and an immoderate 
 desire to appear a gay young fellow. 
 
 Lauchlin Maclaine, the father of our adventurer, was a Presby- 
 terian divine, and pastor of a congregation of that communion at 
 Monaghan, in the North of Ireland. He designed James, his se- 
 cond son, for a merchant, and bestowed upon him a sound educa- 
 tion, but died before he could put his intentions into effect of send- 
 ing him to Rotterdam, to be placed in the counting-house of a 
 Scotch merchant of his acquaintance. 
 
 Young Maclaine, the instant his father's breath was out of his 
 body, proceeded to take possession and to dispose of his father's 
 substance ; and treated with perfect contempt the remonstrances 
 of his friends and relations, and the exortations of his aunt, who, 
 finding all her entreaties ineffectual took his only sister into her 
 charge, and left him to pursue what course he pleased. 
 
 Thus left to himself, Maclaine forgot altogether the projected 
 Dutch counting-house, and equipping himself in the gayest apparel 
 that part of the country could afford, and purchasing a gelding, 
 set up fine gentleman at once, and in a twelvemonth dissipated 
 almost the whole of his property. During his extravagances, how- 
 ever, his ear had been frequently troubled with the remonstrances 
 of his aunt and his other relations, which he at length found so 
 disagreeable, that he was fain to set out for Dublin without com- 
 municating his intention to any one. It was here, it appears, 
 that he first conceived the notion of making his fortune by marriage ; 
 and having no disagreeable person, he gratuitously gave himself 
 credit for many more excellencies than, unfortunately, other peo- 
 ple could discover in him. The demands for the maintenance of 
 such an appearance as would realize his hopes of a rich marriage, 
 soon swept away the remainder of his property ; and he had now 
 lull time to reflect on his folly and vauity, and to regret not a little 
 Having despised the advice of his relations, who had for some time 
 turned a deaf ear to his entreaties by letter for a supply of money. 
 But upon them, nevertheless, he felt was now his sole dependance. 
 He had long spent his all — he was an entire stranger to a single 
 individual of worth or substance in the place, and his credit and 
 clothes, even to the last shirt, were gone. Selling his sword, there- 
 fore, the last piece of splendour that remained to him, he raised 
 as much as would bear his charges on foot, and with a heavy hear; 
 »et out to return to Monaghan, his native place. 
 
JAMES MACLALNE. M9 
 
 Not a hand was outstretched to welcome the prodigal home agaiu ; 
 hts aunt refused to see him, all his other relations followed her ex- 
 ample, and the companions of his former riots not only refused him 
 relief, but rendered him the sport and ridicule of the town. His 
 sister, however, sometimes contrived to see him by stealth to give 
 him her pocket-money, but that could not long support him. Here, 
 then, he must inevitably have starved, had not a gentleman on his 
 way to England, passing through the town, compassionately offer- 
 ed him the place of a servant who had recently died. Want, and 
 the dread of starving, had by this time entirely banished all unne- 
 cessary and superfluous pride, and our young gentleman accepted 
 the offer with joy. But, unhappily, the extreme pressure of want 
 once removed, old thoughts return, old vanities are renewed ; and 
 so it was with Mr. Maclaine. His master's commands, though 
 uniformly softened by good-nature and benevolence, appeared to 
 him as so many insults offered to his birth and breeding ; it is no 
 wonder, therefore, that in a few months he was discharged from his 
 service. Depending on his sister, who was about to be married to 
 a man of some wealth, he set out once more for Ireland, to endea- 
 vour to obtain enough from his relations to fit him out for America 
 or the West Indies; but here again he was doomed to disappoint- 
 ment. His sister's marriage had been broken off — she was unable 
 to do anything for him; — and his other relations, deeming them- 
 selves scandalized by his having been a footman, were even less 
 tractable than before, treated him with great indignity, and finally 
 refused all manner of assistance. 
 
 Again reduced to starvation, he was obliged to think of service 
 as his only resource. Wii v Ji much difficulty he obtained a situation 
 as butler to a gentleman near Cork, with whom he did not live 
 long, being discharged for some breach of trust. Here he remained 
 for many mouths out of place, wandering about, without any settled 
 abode or means of subsistence, except occasional remittances from 
 his elder brother, a pastor of the English congregation at the 
 Hague, whose friendly assistance was less relished, because it was 
 accompanied by warm remonstrances on the past, and wholesome 
 advice on the future conduct of his life. 
 
 Fortune was at length favourable; his old master, though he re- 
 fused him a character to another family, generously paid his pas- 
 sage to England, and allowed him, for a limited period after his 
 landing, a shilling a day for subsistence. 
 
 Once again on this side of the water, his notions of gentilitv 
 returned; he scorned being a menial servant; and valuing me 
 
250 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 minimum of his ambition at a pair of colours, he actually had the 
 impudence to attempt to borrow the purchase money on the bond 
 he had obtained from his master. This absurd scheme failing, he 
 threw up his shilling a-day in disgust, and heroically cast himself 
 for support on a celebrated courtesan, a countrywoman of his own, 
 who maintained him for some months in great magnificence, and 
 enabled him to attend the public places with something like splen- 
 dour. « 
 
 But having disgusted this lady by his pusillanimous conduct in 
 a rencontre with a certain peer, — who bestowed upon him a severe 
 castigation, and very nearly ran him through the body, though he 
 was much stronger, and as well armed as the nobleman, — he was 
 once more without resources. His grandeur now suffered an eclipse 
 for two or three months, and his last suit had been laid by in la- 
 vender, or, in other words, pawned, when he inspired the regard 
 of a lady of quality, the consequence of which was, that for five or 
 six months longer he flourished away as an idle fellow in all the 
 public places. 
 
 But Maclaine inwardly was not idle. He was extremely anxious 
 for an independent settlement, and the thought of inveigling some 
 woman of fortune by the charms of his person was still uppermost 
 in his mind. Among other schemes to this end, there was none he 
 built so much upon as a very hopeful and grateful plot he had laid 
 for the daughter of his patroness and benefactress, who had a con- 
 siderable fortune. But the young lady's waiting-maid, who had 
 either more honesty than abigails in general are furnished with, or 
 had not received the price with which they are usually rewarded, 
 discovered the affair to the old lady, who forthwith dismissed Mac- 
 laine from her services, but when, in a few months after, he was 
 much reduced, she privately bestowed upon him fifty pounds in 
 order to fit him out for Jamaica, where he had proposed to go and 
 seek his fortune, and where the lady was willing enough that he 
 should retire, that she might be free from fears on her daughter's 
 account. 
 
 But Maclaine was no sooner possessed of this sum than he for- 
 got his Jamaica expedition, and returned to his favourite scheme 
 of fortune-hunting; for he never could rid himself of the idea that 
 one day or other he should succeed in the main object of his exis- 
 tence. He released, therefore, his best clothes from the durance 
 vile in which they had been plunged, and after various treatise with 
 match-makers and chambermaids, relating to ladies of great re- 
 puted fortune, all which treaties ended in disappointment, he 
 
JAMES MACLAINE. 251 
 
 reluctantly contracted his ambition, and made suit to the daugh- 
 ter of a considerable innkeeper and dealer in horses, with whom 
 he was fortunate enough to succeed, and whom he married with 
 her parents' consent, and five hundred pounds. 
 
 Here it would seem that Maclaine had laid aside all thoughts of 
 the fine gentleman, and had really determined to make the most 
 of his wife's fortune by industry and dilligence. He took a house 
 in Welbeck-street, and set up a grocer's and chandler's shop ; was 
 very obliging to his customers, punctual in his dealings, and, while 
 his wife lived, was esteemed by his neighbours a careful and indus- 
 trious man. However, though at times, and while he was in hi* 
 shop, he appeared to like his business, yet in parties of pleasure, 
 which he made but too often, and on holidays, he affected the dress 
 of a gentleman, and thus created expences which only a gradual 
 encroachment on his capital enabled him to meet; insomuch, that 
 when his wife died, which was about three years after their marri- 
 age, he resolved to leave off business, and converted his furniture 
 and goods into the miserable sum of eighty-five pounds, which, 
 perhaps, with frugality, might have supported him in business, but 
 which was at all times too small a sum for Mr. Maclaine. 
 
 His mother-in-law consenting to take charge of his only daugh- 
 ter, and once more in a manner a single man, with his eighty -five 
 pounds in his pocket, again did the desire of appearing the gay 
 fine gentleman obtrude itself upon his mind, and his old project 
 of marrying a rich fortune engrossed all his faculties. For this 
 purpose, Mr. Maclaine, who, but a few weeks before was not 
 ashamed to appear in a patched coat, or to carry a halfpenny-worth 
 of coal or sand to his customers, now hired handsome apartments 
 near Soho-square, and resumed his laced clothes, and a hat and 
 feather. 
 
 But, however unreasonable to others this sudden transition 
 from the grub to the butterfly might appear, Mr. Maclaine had 
 very good private reasons for his actions. It appears that du- 
 ring his wife's last illness, she had been attended by one Plun- 
 ket, as a surgeon and apothecary ; this Plunket, after the 
 decease of the poor woman, opened his mind to Maclaine, say- 
 ing, that though the latter had lost a good wife, yet, seeing that 
 she was gone,"it was of no use to despond or to repine, particularly 
 as it might eventually turn out the most lucky circumstance in his 
 life. He added at the same time that if Maclaine would agree to 
 share the fortune with him, he could help him to a lady with ten 
 thousand pounds at least in her own right. 
 
252 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 This motion was too agreeable to Mr. Maclaine to be rejected. 
 It is hardly necessary to detail with what zeal this affair was followed 
 up, or how often they flattered themselves with the deceitful pros- 
 pects of success. The young lady having been taken to the wells, 
 Maclaine followed her, passing for a man of fortune, and in every 
 part of his dress and equipage appearing in that character. Plun- 
 ket acted as his partner, and was a sort of under agent, while 
 Maclaine himself was ogling, dancing, and flirting with the yo^ng 
 lady. But an ill-timed quarrel with an apothecary, one evening 
 in the public room, placed a quietus upon his hopes for ever; for 
 the disciple of Galen enlisting a M gallant son of Mars" in his 
 quarrel, the latter had the effrontery to kick our adventurer down 
 stairs, declaring publicly that he knew the rascal a footman a few 
 years ago. This statement, which was believed by every body 
 present, amongst whom was his mistress, whose credulity he had 
 ascertained before, and was therefore not in a situation to doubt, 
 compelled him and his footman Plunket to decamp without the 
 ceremony of leave-taking, and, indeed, without any ceremony 
 at all. 
 
 Returning to town from this woeful expedition, and examining 
 the state of their cash, these faithful friends discovered that five 
 guineas were the whole that remained, — a sum too little to support 
 them, or to enter into any new project, or to keep up their assumed 
 grandeur. Maclaine now found himself in a worse plight than he 
 had brought himself to for some years past, without any visible 
 hope of a supply, and yet engaged in a mode of life highly expen- 
 sive, which it went to his heart either to retrench or relinquish. 
 He now thought seriously of embarking for Jamaica, where be 
 hoped to find employment as an accountant, and flattered himself 
 that his person might be turned to account amongst the rich planter's 
 daughters or widows. But no money was forthcoming for this pur- 
 pose, nor could he think of any possible scheme whereby it might 
 be raised. 
 
 Certainly, never had man less cause to complain of Fortune than 
 Maclaine, and it would seem throughout his life, that she bad 
 determined to make his ruin entirely the work of his own hand, 
 and leave him at last utterly without excuse or palliation ; for meet- 
 ing on 'Change with a gentleman, a countryman of his own, to 
 whom he had formerly related his hopes of making a fortune in the 
 manner we have related, he told him his situation at the present 
 moment adding that he was now undone, that he had spent his all 
 in that unhappy project, and had not wherewithal to subsist here, 
 
JAMES MACLAINE. 258 
 
 or to carry him from a place in which he felt he was cutting a very 
 ridiculous figure. Hereupon the gentleman spoke in his behalf 
 to some others of his countrymen ; and as his conduct heretofore, 
 according to the notions of the age, had been rather imprudent 
 than vicious, they actually raised sixty guineas to fit him out for 
 Jamaica, which they gave him promising him letters of recom- 
 mendation from some merchants of respectability to their own cor- 
 respondents. Here, then, was a prospect at once opened to him, 
 of future happiness and prosperity. Let us see how it terminated. 
 
 He had agreed for the passage, paid part of the money in ad- 
 vance, and bespoken some necessaries fitted for the climate, when 
 unhappily for the infatuated man, he was prompted to go to a mas- 
 querade, to take leave, as he said, for the last time, of the bewitch- 
 ing pleasures of London, and to bid a final farewell to this species of 
 enjoyment, which he should have no hope of partaking in the 
 West Indies. He went with the whole of his money in his pocket. 
 The strange appearance of the place and of the company amused 
 him for a while, but the noise of the gamesters drew his attention 
 to the gaming-table, where the quick transition of large sums from 
 one hand to another awakened his avarice, and lulled his prudence 
 asleep. In short, he ventured, and in half an hour had possessed 
 himself of a hundred guineas, with which he resolved, according 
 to their phrase, " to tie up ;" but avarice had now attacked him ; 
 and after taking a turn or two round the room, he again returned, 
 and in a few minutes was stripped to the last guinea. 
 
 It is needless to describe his agony on this occasion. His money 
 gone, his expedition utterly disconcerted, and his friends lost past 
 redemption ! What was now to be done ? 
 
 In this extremity, his evil genius, now in the ascendant, prompt- 
 ed him to send for Plunket to advise with, and from that moment 
 his ruin commenced. This was the favourable moment for Plunket. 
 Himself a man of no honour, an utter stranger to all ties or prin- 
 ciples of religion or honesty, an old sharper, and a daring fellow 
 into the bargain, this was an opportunity, when his friend was 
 agitated almost to madness, to propose, at first by distant hints, 
 and at last in plain English, going on the highway. 
 
 Had he approached him in a calm hour, it is more than probable 
 that his proposal had been rejected with horror; but the former 
 strongly represented the necessity of a speedy supply before his 
 friends could discover that his money was gone, which, he said, 
 would expose him to universal scorn and contempt. A strange 
 infatuation, the dread of shame — the shame of appearing a tool, 
 
254 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 diminished the horror of being a villain, and decided him to lecruit 
 his losses by means the most hazardous and wicked. 
 
 Having agreed upon a plan of co-partnership, and hired too 
 horses, Plunket furnishing the pistols; for this was not his first 
 entrance upon business of that nature, they set out on the evening 
 after the masquerade, to lie in wait for passengers coming from 
 Smithfield-Market. They met on Hounslow-heath with a grazier, 
 next morning about four o'clock, from whom they took, without 
 opposition, between sixty and seventy pounds. 
 
 In this, and other expeditions of the same kind, they wore 
 Venetian masks; but this covering couicl not stifle conscience in 
 Maclaine, nor animate him into courage. He accompanied Plun- 
 ket, it is true, and was by at tne robbery, but strictly speaking, 
 had no hand in it; for his fears were so great that he had no power 
 to utter a word, or to draw a pistol. The least resistance on the 
 part of the countryman would have given wings to his heels, and 
 have caused him to leave his more daring accomplice in the lurch. 
 Even when the robbery was over, and the countryman out of 
 sight, Maclaine's fears were intolerable. He followed Plunket for 
 some miles without speaking a word ; and when they put up at an 
 inn, nearly ten miles from the place of the robbery, he called for 
 a private room, fearful of every shadow, and terrified at every sound. 
 His agonies of mind were so great, that Plunket was fearful that 
 his folly would raise suspicion in the house, and he would fain have 
 persuaded him to return immediately to London; but he would not 
 stir till it was dusk, and then would not appear at the stables 
 from which they had hired the horses, but left the care of them to 
 Plunket. 
 
 He was now, by his share of this ill-acquired booty, very nearly 
 reimbursed his losses at the masquerade, and might have easily 
 undertaken his voyage; but he had lost all peace of mind, and was 
 become entirely void of prudence. So great was his dread of a 
 discovery, though Plunket represented the impossibility of it, that 
 he would not stir out of his room for some days, and even then did 
 not think himself safe, but proposed going down to the country for 
 a week or two. Plunket did not oppose his departure, especially 
 as he was to direct the route, and had gotten some intimation of a 
 prize coming that day from St. Alban's, towards which place they 
 set out. When they had gone a few miles, Plunket imparted to 
 him his design, which Maclaine promised to second with a great 
 deal of reluctance. When they came within sight of the coach, 
 in which was their expected booty, Maclaine would have persuaded 
 
JAMES MACLAINE. *5S 
 
 Plunket to desist; but the other, turning his qualms of conscience 
 into ridicule, and dropping some hints of cowardice, Maciaine 
 prepared for the attack, crying, "He needs must whom the devil 
 drives. I am over shoes and must over boots ;" but notwithstanding, 
 conducted himself in so distracted a manner as went nigh to lose 
 them their prey. They took, however, from a gentleman and lady 
 in the coach, two gold watches, and about twenty pounds in money, 
 with which they got clear off; but did not think fit to keep that road 
 any longer, but turned off, and before morning put up at an inn 
 at Richmond, where Maciaine was as much in the horrors as in 
 London; had no rest, no peace of mind, and stayed there two or 
 three days, sulky, sullen, and perplexed as to what course he was 
 to pursue. His wish, however, to be in town in time for the ship's 
 departure for Jamaica, determined him to return to London in a 
 fortnight, when he found that the ship had sailed two days before, — 
 a disappointment that added to his former perplexity. Nevertheless, 
 having money in his pocket, he contrived to excuse himself to his 
 friends for his untoward absence, and promised, and seriously de- 
 signed, to set out on the very next opportunity. 
 
 But the expensive company he kept in the interim, and further 
 losses at play, once more stripped him of his money; and his evil 
 genius, Plunket, was ever at his elbow, ready to suggest the former 
 method of supply, with which he now complied much less reluctantly 
 than before. The bounds of honour once overstepped, especially 
 when success and security attend the villainy, the habit of vice 
 grows strong ; and the checks of conscience gradually less regarded 
 at length pass without notice. In a word, Maciaine hardened 
 himself by degrees to villainy, left the company of his city acquaint- 
 ance that they might not tease him about his voyage to Jamaica, 
 and took lodgings in St. James's-street, a place excellently suited 
 to his purpose, for his appearance glanced off all suspicion, and 
 he had a favourable opportunity, when gentlemen came to town, 
 of knowing and watching their motions, and consequently of follow- 
 ing and waylaying them on the road. 
 
 In the space of six months, he and Plunket, sometimes in 
 company and sometimes separately, committed fifteen or sixteen 
 robberies in Hyde Park, and within twenty miles of London, and 
 obtained some large prizes. But still the money went as it came, 
 for Plunket loved his bottle and intrigue, and Maciaine was doat- 
 ingly fond of fine clothes, balls, and masquerades, at all which 
 places he made a conspicuous figure. As he still had fortune-hunt- 
 ing in view, he was very assiduous in his attentions to women, and 
 
»53 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 was not altogether unsuccessful; but, we imagine, made sincere 
 return to none but such as had money in their own hands, or could 
 be useful in helping him to an introduction to such as had. 
 
 And here it were needless and not productive of much interest 
 to recount several intrigues in which Maclaine was engaged, and 
 it were not a little painful to narrate two instances of wanton 
 seduction on his part, which, were there no other counts in the 
 moral indictment against him, would be sufficient to consign him 
 to eternal infamy. •„ 
 
 Mr. Maclaine applied himself also to his old profession of fortune- 
 hunting, and in company with his old and worthy coadjutor Plun- 
 ket, made several attempts to entrap heiresses, all of which proved 
 abortive. While he was intent upon these schemes, he had no 
 opportunity of making excursions on the road, and to defray his 
 expenses had borrowed from a citizen's wife, with whom he had an 
 intrigue, about twenty pounds, which he promised faithfully to re- 
 pay before her husband should return from the country. The time 
 of the citizen's arrival being at hand, the good wife became exceed- 
 ingly anxious about the coin; and as a similar favour might be 
 wanted by him at a future time, Mr. Maclaine made it a point of 
 conscience to keep his word with her, and appointed her to come 
 to him at his lodgings at Chelsea, where he paid her the money. 
 He, however, took care that his friend Plunket should case her of 
 the trouble of carrying it home, by waylaying her in the five-fields. 
 
 Soon after this, a supply of cash being wanted, Plunket and he 
 prepared for an expedition, and took the road to Chester; and in 
 three days committed five robberies between Stony Stratford and 
 Whitchurch, one of which was upon an intimate acquaintance, 
 by whom Maclaine had been handsomely entertained but two days 
 before. However, the booty in the whole live robberies did not 
 amount to thirty pounds in cash, but they had watches, rings, fee. 
 to a much greater amount. On the very evening of their return to 
 town, they obtained information that an officer in the East India 
 company's service had received a large sum of money with whieh 
 he was about to return to Greenwich. They waylaid and robbed 
 him of a very considerable sum, and it would leem that on this 
 occasion they were under some dread of a discovery ; for, in a few 
 days after the commission of it, Maclaine set out for the Hague 
 and Plunket for Ireland. 
 
 On the arrival of the former at the Hague, he pretended a friendly 
 visit to his brother who received him with cordiality and affection, 
 and as honesty is never suspicious, he was easily induced to givr 
 
JAMES MACLAINE. Sffil 
 
 credit to the specious tale which his brother related to him. He toid 
 nun that he had got a considerable fortune with his late wife, and 
 that her father, who died some few months before, had left him a 
 valuable legacy, with which he designed to purchase a company in 
 (he army. Upon that, and the interest of his other friends, he 
 said, he hoped to live at ease for the remainder of his life. His 
 worthy brother, rejoicing in his prosperity, introduced him to his 
 acquaintance and friends, amongst whom Mr. Maclaine behaved 
 with great politeness, giving balls and large parties; to pay for 
 which, it is surmised, he had the art to extract the gold watches 
 and purses of his guests without suspicion. 
 
 However, upon his arrival in London, to which place he had 
 been induced to return by a letter from Plunket, informing him of 
 another rich matrimonial prize, which was, as usual, beyond his 
 reach, or above his ingenuity to ensnare ; — he again appears to have 
 taken up his old thoughts of preparing for Jamaica, as a last re- 
 source. But these thoughts did not long possess him; for though 
 by the sale of his horses and furniture he might have fitted himself 
 for the West Indies in a very genteel manner, and had still repu- 
 tation enough left to have procured sufficient recommendations from 
 home; yet he was prevailed upon to try his fate on the road once 
 more, and was but too successful, making several rich prizes. 
 Amongst the rest he and Plunket robbed Horace Walpole, and on 
 a reward being advertised for the watch which they had taken from 
 him, Plunket had the impudence to go and receive it himself, 
 choosing to run the risk rather than trust a third person with their 
 hazardous secret. But all human prudence is in vain to stop the 
 hand of justice, when once the measure of our iniquity is full; our 
 closet secrets take wind, we know not how; and our own folly acts 
 the part of an informer to awaken offended justice. The crisis of 
 Maclaine's fate was at hand. It was he who proposed his last ex- 
 cursion to Plunket, who was ill at the time, and was very unwill- 
 ing to turn out; but Maclaine, impelled by some uncommon im- 
 pulse, urged him so earnestly, that he at length complied. They 
 came up, about two o'clock in the morning, near Turnham Green, 
 with the Salisbury stage-coach, in which five men and a woman 
 were passengers. Though this was Maclaine's expedition, yet 
 Plunket was the acting man, and obliged all the men to come out 
 of the coach one by one, and rifled them; and then, putting his 
 pistol in his pocket, lest he should frighten the lady, without forc- 
 ing her out of the coach, he took what she offered without further 
 •earch. Plunket would now have gone off; but Maclaine, full of 
 
 S 
 
25 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 bit 'ate. demanded th " cloak-bags out of the boot of the coach; 
 each of them took one before him and rode off, bidding a polite 
 adieu to the passengers, and riding as deliberately as though they 
 had been performing some signal service. 
 
 On the same morning they met and robbed Lord Eglington, who 
 was the prize for whom they originally went out. They effected this 
 by a stratagem, as his lordship was armed with a blunderbuss. 
 One of them skreened himself behind the post-boy, so that if his 
 lordship fired, he must shoot his servant, while the other with at 
 pistol cocked demanded his money, and ordered him to throw his 
 blunderbuss on the ground. But it appears, the prize obtained at 
 this hazard was but seven guineas, with which, and the cloak-bags, 
 they returned to Maclaine's lodgings before the family were up, and 
 divided their spoil. 
 
 But though the clothes were described in the public papers, yet 
 so infatuated was Maclaine, that he sold his share of the booty to a 
 salesman, who instantly recognized them as belonging to a Mr. 
 Higden, and the latter immediately had Maclaine taken into cus- 
 tody. 
 
 On his first examination he denied the fact, but afterwards, that 
 he might leave himself no room to escape, he formed a design of 
 saving his life by impeaching his accomplice Plunket, foolishly 
 imagining that justice would promise life to a villain she had in 
 custody, for impeaching another that was out of her reach. But 
 in the words of Massinger — 
 
 " Here is a precedent to teach wicked men, 
 That when they leave religion and turn atheists, 
 Their own abilities leave 'em." 
 
 For though he was forewarned that a confession, without impeach- 
 ing a number of accomplices, would not avail him, he still insisted 
 upon taking that step, not from compunction or remorse, but with 
 the base design of saving his own life at the expense of that of his 
 quondam friend. 
 
 On his second examination he delivered his confession in writing, 
 and behaved in a most dastardly manner, whimpering and crying 
 like a whipped school-boy. This conduct, degrading as it was, 
 drew sympathetic tears from and opened the purses of his fair au- 
 dience, whose bounty supported him in great affluence while he 
 remained in the Gatehouse, and whose kind olfers of intercession 
 gave him hopes of a free pardon. 
 
 On his trial, he thought lit to retract his confession, ^reienaing 
 that he was flurried, and in some measure delirious wnen no m4Q« 
 
JAMES MACLAINE. 269 
 
 it, and that he had received the clothes from Plunket in payment 
 of a debt. But this evasion had no weight with the jury, who brought 
 him in guilty without going out of court. 
 
 On receiving sentence, guilt, shame, and dread deprived him 
 of the power of speech, and disabled him from reading a paper, 
 pathetically enough composed, in which he prayed for mercy. 
 
 In Newgate, ample time was permitted him to make his peace 
 with his offended Maker, and there is every evidence to believe, 
 from the testimony of the Rev. Dr. Allen, who attended him con- 
 stantly to the last moment of his life, that his remorse and contri- 
 tion was unaffected, sincere, and strong. 
 
 He was carried to Tyburn in a cart, like the rest of the criminals, 
 and not, as was expected, in a coach; he stood the gaze of the 
 multitude (which was on this occasion almost infinite,) without the 
 least concern ; and when he was about to be turned off, he said, 
 " O God, forgive my enemies, bless my friends, and receive my 
 soul !" His execution took place on Wednesday, October 3, 1750. 
 
 In the very amusing Letters of Horace Walpole to Sir Horace 
 Mann, recently published, we find the following spirited and lively 
 sketch of Maclaine. 
 
 " 1 have been in town for a day or two, and heard no conversation 
 but about M'Lane, a fashionable highwayman, who is just taken, 
 and who robbed me among others; as LordEglington, Sir Thomas 
 Robinson of Vienna, Mrs. Talbot, &c. He took an odd booty from 
 the Scotch Earl, a blunderbuss, which lies very formidable upon 
 the justice's table. He was taken by selling a laced waistcoat to 
 a pawnbroker, who happened to carry it to the very man who had 
 just sold the lace. His history is very particular, for he confesses 
 every thing, he is so little of a hero, that he cries and begs, and 
 I believe, if LordEglington had been in any luck, might have been 
 robbed of his own blunderbuss. His father was an Irish dean; his 
 brother is a Calvinist minister in great esteem at the Hague. He 
 himself was a grocer, but losing a wife that he loved extremely 
 about two years ago, and by whom he has one little girl, he quitted 
 his business with 200J. in his pocket, which he soon spent, and then 
 took to the road with only one companion, Plunket, a journeyman 
 apothecary, my other friend, whom he has impeached, but who is 
 not taken. M'Lane had a lodging in St. James's-street over against 
 White's, and another at Chelsea; Plunket one in Jermyn-street: 
 and their faces are as known about St. James's as any gentleman's 
 who lives in that quarter, and who perhaps goes upon the road too. 
 M'Lane had a quarrel at Putney bowling-green two months ago 
 
£60 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 with an officer, whom he challenged for disputing his rank; but 
 the Captain declined, till M'Lane should produce a certificate of 
 his nobility, which he has just received. If he had escaped a month 
 longer, he might have heard of Mr. Chute's genealogic expertness, 
 and come hither to the College of Arms for a certificate. There 
 was a wardrobe of clothes, three-and-twenty purses, and the cele- 
 brated blunderbuss found at his lodging, besides a famous kept 
 mistress. As I conclude he will suffer, and wish him no ill, I don't 
 care to have his idea, and am almost single in not having been to " 
 see him. Lord Mountford, at the head of half White's, went the 
 first day : his aunt was crying over him : as soon as they were with- 
 drawn, she said to him, knowing they were of White's, { My dear, 
 what did the Lords say to you ? have you ever been concerned with 
 any of them?' Was not it admirable ? what a favourable idea peo- 
 ple must have of White's ! — and what if White's should not deserve 
 a much better! But the chief personages who ha^e been to com- 
 fort and weep over this fallen hero are Lady Caroline Petersham 
 and Miss Ashe: I call them Polly and Lucy, and asked them if 
 he did not sing — ' Thus 1 stand like the Turk with hi3 doxies 
 around.' " 
 
 EUGENE ARAM. 
 
 That Eugene Aram was a very remarkable and ingenious man, 
 cannot for a moment be doubted; especially as he has left us part 
 of a Lexicon, deriving the English language from the Chaldee, 
 Hebrew, Arabic, and Celtic dialects, which is a very learned and 
 convincing performance; still we cannot help thinking that his 
 abilities have been greatly over-rated. His defence was doubtlessly 
 of consummate ingenuity. In fact, the celebrated Archdeacon 
 Paley, who was present at his trial, attributes his conviction to 
 this very ingenuity — asserting that " he had a fair claim to a niche 
 in the Biographia Britannica," having got himself hanged by his 
 own cleverness, which he certainly had." 
 
 The accounts of the life of this man have become of late so widely 
 circulated, and the particulars respecting the murder of which be 
 was the perpetrator so generally known, that any notice of him in 
 this work would appear almost supererogatory were it not that 
 a charge of oversight and omission could, without injusiice, bt 
 
EUGENE ARAM. 261 
 
 reasonably advanced against it, were we to slight over or leave 
 unmentioned a name so notorious. We shall, therefore, give a 
 summary of his history, commencing with an account of his family 
 and early life, furnished by himself at the request of the two gen- 
 tlemen who, at his own particular desire, attended him at his 
 condemnation. 
 
 "I was born atRamsgill, a little village in Netherdale, in 1704. 
 My maternal relations had been substantial and reputable in that 
 dale, for a great many generations : my father was of Nottingham- 
 shire, a gardener, of great abilities in Botany, and an excellent 
 draughtsman. He served the Right Rev. the Bishop of London, 
 Dr. Compton, with great approbation; which occasioned his being 
 recommended to Newby, in this county, to Sir Edward Blackett, 
 whom he served in the capacity of gardener, with much credit to 
 himself, and satisfaction to that family, for above thirty years. 
 Upon the decease of that Baronet, he went, and was retained in 
 the service of Sir John Ingilby, of Ripley, Bart, where he died; 
 respected when living, and lamented when dead. My father's 
 ancestors were of great antiquity and consideration in the county, 
 and originally British. Their surname is local, for they were 
 formerly lords of the town of Haram, or Aram, on the southern 
 banks of the Tees, and opposite to Stockburn, in Bishopric ; and 
 appear in the records of St. Mary's, at York, among many charit- 
 able names, parly and considerable benefactors to that abbey. 
 They, many centuries ago, removed from these parts, and were 
 settled under the fee of the lords Mowbary, in Nottinghamshire, 
 at Haram, or Aram Park, in the neighbourhood of Newark upon 
 Trent; where they were possessed of no less than three knight's 
 fees in the reign of Edward the Third. Their lands, I find not 
 whether by purchase or marriage, came into the hands of the pre- 
 sent Lord Lexington. While the name existed in the county, 
 some of them were several times high sheriffs for the county; and 
 one was professor of divinity, if I remember right at Oxford, and 
 died at York. The last of the chief of this family, was Thomas 
 Aram, Esq. of Gray's Inn, and one of the commissioners of the 
 Salt Office, under Queen Anne. He married one of the co-heiresses 
 of Sir John Coningsby, of North Mimms, in Hertfordshire. His 
 seat, which was his own estate, was at the Wild, near Shenley, 
 in Hertfordshire, where I saw him, and where he died without 
 issue. 
 
 *• I was removed very young, along with my mother, to Skelton, 
 near Newby, and thence at five or six years old, my father making 
 
2fr3 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 a little purchase at Bor.dgate, near Ripon, his family went thither. 
 There I went to school; where I was made capable of reading toe 
 Testament, which was all I was ever taught except a long time 
 after, for about a month in a very advanced age for that, with the 
 Reverend Mr. Alcock, of Burnsal. 
 
 " After this, about thirteen or fourteen years of age, I went to 
 my father at Newby, and attended him in the family there, till 
 the death of Sir Edward Blackett. It was here my propensity to 
 literature first appeared, for being always of a solitary disposition, 
 and uncommonly fond of retirement and books, I enjoyed here all 
 the repose and opportunity I could wish. My study at that time 
 was engaged in the mathematics : I know not what my acquisitions 
 were, but I am certain my application was intense and unwearied. 
 I found in my father's library there, which contained a very great 
 number of books in most branches, Kersey's Algebra, Leybourn's 
 Cursus Mathematicus, Ward's Young Mathematician's Guide, 
 Harris's Algebra, &c. and a great many more; but these being 
 the books in which I was ever most conversant, I remember them 
 the better. I was even then equal to the management of quadratic 
 equations, and their geometrical constructions. After we left New- 
 by, I repeated the same studies in Bondgate, and went over all 
 parts 1 had studied before, I believe not altogether unsuccessfully. 
 
 " Being about the age of sixteen, I was sent for to London, 
 being thought upon examination by Mr. Christopher Blackett 
 qualified to serve him as bookkeeper in his counting-house. Here, 
 after a year or two, I took the small-pox and suffered most severely 
 under that distemper. I returned home again, and there with lei- 
 sure on my hands, and a new addition of authors to those brought 
 me from Newby, I renewed not only my mathematical studies, 
 but began and prosecuted others, of a different turn, with much 
 avidity and diligence. These were poetry, history, and antiquities; 
 the charms of which quite destroyed all the heavier beauties of 
 numbers in lines, whose applications and properties I now pur- 
 sued no longer, except occasionally in teaching. 
 
 " I was, after some time employed in this manner, invited into 
 Netherdalc, my native air, where I first engaged in a school, and 
 where, unfortunately enough for me, 1 married. The misconduct 
 of the wife which that place afforded me, h.is procured me this pro- 
 secution, this prison, this infamy, and this sentence. 
 
 " During my marriage here, perceiving the deficiencies of my 
 education, and sensible of the want of the learned languages, and 
 prompted by an irresistible covetousness of knowledge, 1 com- 
 
EUGENE ARAM. 263 
 
 menced a series of studies in that way; and undertook the tedious- 
 nessof the intricacies, and the labour of grammar; I selected Lilly 
 from the rest, all of which I got, and repeated by heart. The task 
 of repeating it all every day was impossible, while I attended the 
 school; so I divided it into portions; by which method it was pro- 
 nounced thrice every week, and this I performed for years. 
 
 11 1 next became acquainted with Camden's Greek Grammar, 
 which I also repeated in the same manner, memoriter. Thus in- 
 structed, I entered upon the Latin classics; whose allurements 
 repaid my assiduities and my labours. I remember to have, at first, 
 overhung five lines for a whole day ; and never in all the painful 
 course of my reading, left any one passage, but I did, or thought 
 I did, perfectly comprehend it. 
 
 " After I had accurately perused every one of the Latin classics, 
 historians and poets, I went through the Greek Testament;, first 
 passing every word as I proceeded; I next ventured upon Hesiod, 
 Homer, Theocritus, Herodotus, Thucydides, and all the Greek 
 tragedians : a tedious labour was this ; but my former acquaintance 
 with history lessened it extremely: because it threw a light upon 
 many passages, which without that assistance must have appeared 
 obscure. 
 
 " In the midst of these literary pursuits, a man and horse from 
 my good friend William Norton, Esq., came for me from Knares- 
 borough, bearing that gentleman's letter inviting me thither; and 
 accordingly I repaired there in some part of the year 1734, and 
 was, I believe, well accepted and esteemed there. Here, not 
 satisfied with my former acquisitions, I prosecuted the attainment 
 of Hebrew, and with indefatigable diligence. I had Buxtorff's 
 grammar, but that being perplexed, or not explicit enough, at least 
 in my opinion at that time, I collected no less than eight or ten 
 different grammars ; and thus one very often supplied the omissions 
 of the others ; and was, I found, of extraordinary advantage. Then 
 I purchased the Bible in the original, and read the whole Penta- 
 teuch, with an intention to go through the whole of it, which I 
 attempted, but wanted time. 
 
 " In April, I think the 18th, 1744, I went again to London ; and 
 agreed to teach the Latin and writing, for the Rev. Mr. Painblanc, 
 in Piccadilly, which he, along with a salary, returned, by teach- 
 ing me French ; wherein 1 observed the pronunciation the most 
 formidable part, at least to me, who had never before known a word 
 of it. By continued application every night and every opportunity, I 
 
264 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 overcame this, and boon became a tolerable master of French, 
 remained in this situation two years and above. 
 
 " Some time after this I went to Hays, in the capacity of writing 
 master, and served a gentlewoman there, since dead; and stayed, 
 after that, with a worthy and reverend gentleman. I continued 
 here between three and four years. To several other places I then 
 succeeded, and all that while used every occasion for improvement. 
 I then transcribed acts of parliament to be registered in chancery; 
 and after went down to the free-school at Lynn. 
 
 " From my leaving Knaresborough to this time is a long interval, 
 which I had filled up with the farther study of history and antiqui- 
 ties, heraldry and botany; in the last of which I was very agree- 
 ably entertained, there being in that study so extensive a display 
 of nature. I well knew Tournefort, Ray, Miller, Linnaeus, &c. 
 I made frequent visits to the botanic garden at Chelsea; and traced 
 pleasure through a thousand fields: at last, few plants, domestic or 
 exotic, were unknown to me. Amidst all this 1 ventured upon the 
 Chaldee and Arabic; and, with a design to understand them, sup- 
 plied myself with Erpenius, Chappelow, and others: but I had 
 not time to obtain any great knowledge of the Arabic ; the Chaldee 
 I found easy enough, because of its connexion with the Hebrew. 
 
 " I then investigated the Celtic, as far as possible, in all its 
 dialects ; began collections, and made comparisons between that, 
 the English, the Latin, the Greek, and even the Hebrew. 1 had 
 made notes, and compared above three thousand of these together, 
 and found such a surprising affinity, even beyond any expectation 
 or conception, that I was determined to proceed through the whole 
 of these languages, and forma comparative lexicon, which I hoped 
 would account for numberless vocables in use with us, the Latins, 
 and Greeks, before concealed and unobserved: this, or something 
 like it, was the design of a clergyman of great erudition in Scot- 
 land; but it must prove abortive, for he died before he executed it, 
 and most of my books and papers are now scattered and lost." 
 
 Such is the account Eugene Aram has given of himself, until 
 the commission of the fatal act that brought down upon him the 
 execration of the world, and the last vengeance of the law. Of 
 all the crimes man is capable of committing, there is none so offen- 
 sive to Omnipotence as murder; and the Almighty, therefore, seems 
 to be more intent to expose that heinous and accursed offence to 
 mankind ; to warn and to admonish them, to show them that rocks 
 cannot hide, nor distance secure them from the inevitable conse* 
 
EUGENE ARAM. 2«3 
 
 quences of the violation of that law which nature dictates and man 
 confirms. The extraordinary means by which this murder was 
 brought to light, is one of many instances of this divine interposition. 
 Daniel Clark was born at Knaresborough, of reputable parents, 
 where he lived and followed the business of a shoemaker. About 
 the month of January, 1744 or 5, he married, and became possess- 
 ed of property to the amount of two or three hundred pounds. He 
 was at that time in very good credit at Knaresborough, and it is 
 supposed a scheme was then laid by Eugene Aram, at that time a 
 school-master in the town, and one Houseman, a flax-dresser, to 
 defraud several tradesmen of great quantities of goods and plate, 
 Clark having been chosen as the fittest person to carry their plan 
 into execution ; for, as he then lived in very good reputation, and, 
 moreover, was lately married, he was the person of all others best 
 calculated to effect the intended purpose. Accordingly, Clark for 
 some days went about to various tradesmen in the town, and under 
 the pretext that, as he was just married, it was not altogether 
 irrational to suppose that cloth, and table and bed-linen would 
 considerably contribute to his matrimonial comfort, he took up 
 great quantities of linen and woollen- drapery goods; the worthy 
 dealers of Knaresborough rendering up their commodities with the 
 greatest zeal and expedition on so interesting an occasion. After 
 this, he went to several innkeepers and others, desiring to borrow 
 a silver tankard of one, a nicely worked silver pint of another, 
 and the like, alleging that he was to have company that night, and 
 should be glad of the use of them at supper; and in order to give 
 a colour to his story, he procured of the innkeepers (of whom he 
 had borrowed the plate) ale and other liquors to regale his visitors. 
 
 Some suspicious circumstances, however, appearing that night, 
 and the following morning, a rumour got wind that Clark had 
 absconded; and upon inquiry, most certainly, he was not to be 
 found. An active search was immediately made for the goods and 
 plate with which he had provided himself when some part of the 
 goods was found at Houseman's house, and another part dug up 
 in Aram's Garden ; but as no plate could be found it was concluded 
 somewhat naturally, that with them Clark had decamped. The 
 strictest inquiry was instantly set on foot to discover his retreat; 
 persons were dispatched to all parts; advertisements describing his 
 person, inserted in all the papers ; but to no purpose. 
 
 Eugene Aram, being suspected to be an accomplice, a process 
 was granted against him by the steward of the honour of Knares- 
 borough to arrest bim for a debt due to a Mr. Norton, with a view 
 
168 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 to detain him till such time as a warrant could be obtained from 
 the justice of the peace to apprehend him upon that charge, lo 
 the surprise of all, however, the money was instantly paid, and 
 moreover, at the same time, a considerable mortgage upon his house 
 at Bondgate was also discharged. Soon afterwards, Aram left the 
 town, and was not heard of until the month of June, 1758, when 
 the murder of Clark being traced to him, he was found residing at 
 Lynn. 
 
 Upwards of thirteen years after Clark's disappearance, it" hap- 
 pened that a labourer employed in digging for stone to supply a 
 lime-kiln, at a place called Thistle-hill, near Knaresborough, strik- 
 ing about half-a-yard and half-a-quarter deep, turned up an arm 
 bone, and the small bone of the leg of a human skeleton. His 
 curiosity being excited, he carefully removed the earth round about 
 the place, and discovered all the bones belonging to a body, pre- 
 senting an appearance, from their position, as though the body 
 had been doubled at the hips, though the bones were all perfect. 
 This remarkable accident being rumoured in the town, gave rise 
 to a suspicion, that Daniel Clark had been murdered and hurried 
 there; for no other person had been missing thereabouts for sixty 
 years and upwards. The coroner was instantly informed, and an 
 inquest summoned. 
 
 The wife of Eugene Aram, who had frequently before given 
 hints of her suspicions, was now examined. From her evidence, 
 it appeared that Clark was an intimate acquaintance of Aram's 
 before the 8th of February, 1744-5, and they had had frequent 
 transactions together, and with Houseman also. About two o'clock 
 in the morning of the eighth of February, 1744-5, Aram, Clark, 
 and Houseman, came to Aram's house and went up-stairs, where 
 they remained about an hour. They then went out together, and 
 Clark being the last, she observed that he had a sack or wallet on 
 his back. About four, Aram and Houseman returned, but without 
 th»ir companion. " Where is Clark?" she inquired; but her 
 huaband only retained an angry look in reply, and desired her to 
 go to bed, which she refused, and told him, " she feared he had 
 been doing something wrong." Aram then went down stairs with 
 the candle, and she being desirous to know what they were doing, 
 followed thera, and from the top of the stairs heard Houseman *ay, 
 ".She's coming; if she does, she'll tell." "What can she tell, 
 poor simple thing?" replied Aram, " she knows nothing. I'll 
 hold the door to prevent her coming." " It's of no use, something 
 must be done," returned Houseman; "if she don't split now, &be 
 
EUGENE ARAM. 261 
 
 will some other time." " No, no, foolish," her husband said; 
 " we'll coax her a little till her passion is off, and then." — " What ?" 
 said Houseman sullenly, " shoot her," whispered Aram, " shoot 
 her!" Mrs. Aram hearing this discourse, became very much alarm, 
 ed, but remained quiet. At seven o'clock the same morning they 
 both left the house, and she, immediately their backs were turned, 
 went down stairs, and observed that there had been a fire below, 
 and all the ashes taken out of the grate. She then examined the 
 dunghill, and perceived ashes of a different kind lying upon it, 
 and searching amongst them found several pieces of linen and 
 woollen cloth very nearly burnt, which had the appearance of 
 wearing apparel. When she returned into the house, she found a 
 handkerchief that she had lent to Houseman the night before, and 
 a round spot of blood upon it about the size of a shilling. House- 
 man came back soon afterwards, and she charged him with having 
 done some dreadful thing to Clark : but he pretended total ignorance, 
 and added, " she was a fool, and knew not what she said." From 
 these circumstances, she fully and conscientiously believed that 
 Daniel Clark had been murdered by Houseman and Eugene Aram, 
 on the 8th of February, 1744-5. 
 
 Several other witnesses were examined, all affirming that House- 
 man and Eugene Aram were the last persons seen with Clark, 
 especially on the night of the 7th of February, being that after 
 which he was missing. Upon hearing these testimonies, House- 
 man, who was present, was observed to become very restless, dis- 
 covering all the signs of guilt, such as trembling, turning pale, 
 and faltering in his speech. Few men, guilty of the crime of 
 murder, have the strength of heart and self-command to conceal 
 it: by some circumstance or other, the truth will out; a look, a 
 dream, and not unfrequently, as in this case, their own unfaithful 
 tongue, is the involuntary agent that brings at last the blackened 
 culprit to that punishment which unerringly awaits the man that 
 sheds his brother's blood. Accordingly, upon the skeleton being 
 produced, Houseman, taking up one of the bones, dropped this 
 most unguarded expression ; " This is no more Daniel Clark's bone 
 than it is mine," " What remarked the coroner instantly — " what? 
 — how is this ? How can you be so sure that that is not Daniel 
 Clark's bone ?" " Because I can produce a witness," replied 
 Houseman, in evident confusion — " I can produce a witness who 
 saw Daniel Clark upon the road two days after he was missing at 
 Knaresborough." This witness was instantly summoned, and stated 
 that he had never seen Clark after the 8th of February ; a friend 
 
868 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 however, had told him (and this only had he mentioned at first) 
 that he met some one very like Clark ; but, it being a snowy day, 
 and the person having the cape of his great coat up, he could not say 
 with the least degree of certainty who he was. This explanation, 
 so far from proving satisfactory, increased the suspicion against 
 Houseman ; and accordingly a warrant was issued against him, 
 and he was apprehended and brought before William Thornton, 
 Esq., who, examining him, elicited a full aeknowledgmen^of the 
 fact of his having been with Clark on the night in question, on 
 account of some money (twenty pounds) that he had lent him, and 
 which he wanted at the time very pressingly. He further stated, 
 that Clark begged him to accept the value in goods, to which 
 proposition he assented, and was necessarily, therefore, several 
 times to and fro between Clark's house and his own, in order to 
 remove the goods from one to the other. When he had finished, 
 he left Clark at Aram's house, with Aram and another man whom 
 he had never seen before. Aram and Clark, immediately after- 
 wards, followed him out of the house of the former, and the stranger 
 was with them. They then went in the direction of the Market- 
 place, which the light of the moon enabled him to see, and he lost 
 sight of them. He disavowed most solemnly that he came back to 
 Aram's house that morning with Aram and Clark, as was asserted 
 by Mrs. Aram; nor was he with Aram, but with Clark, at the 
 house of the former on that night, whither he only went to seek 
 Clark in order to obtain from him the note. 
 
 Being then asked if he would sign this examination, he said he 
 would rather waive it for the present, far he might have something 
 to add, and, therefore desired to have time to consider of it. The 
 magistrate then committed him to York Castle, when, expressing 
 a wish to explain more fully, he was again brought before Mr. 
 Thornton, and in his presence made the following confession: — 
 That Daniel Clark was murdered by Eugene Aram, late of Knares- 
 borough, a schoolmaster, and, as he believed, on Friday the 8th 
 of February, 1744-5; for that Eugene Aram and Daniel Clark 
 were together at Aram's house early that morning, and that he 
 (Houseman) left the house and went up the street a little before, 
 and they called to him, desiring he would go a short way with them; 
 and he accordingly went with them to a place called St. Robert*! 
 Cave, near Grimble Bridge, where the two former stopped, and 
 there he saw Aram strike Clark several times over the breast and 
 head, and saw him fall, as if he were dead; upon which he Came 
 away and left them ; but whether Aram used any weapon or not to 
 
EUGENE ARAM. S09 
 
 kill Clark, he could not tell, nor did he know what he did with the 
 body afterwards, but believed that Aram left it at the mouth of the 
 cave ; for that, seeing Aram do this, lest he might share the same 
 fate, he made the best of his way to the bridge-end, where, looking 
 back, he saw Aram coming from the cave-side, (which is in a 
 private rock adjoining the river,) and could discern a bundle in 
 his hand, but did not know what it was : upon this he hastened 
 away to the town, without either joining Aram or seeing him again 
 till the next day, and from that time he had never had discourse 
 with him. He stated, however, afterwards, that Clark's body was 
 buried in St. Robert's Cave, and that he was sure it was there, but 
 desired it might remain till such time as Aram was taken. He 
 added further, that Clark's head lay to the right, in a turn at the 
 entrance of the cave. 
 
 Proper persons were instantly appointed to examine St. Robert's 
 Cave, when agreeably to Houseman's confession, the skeleton of 
 a human body (the head lying as he had described,) was soon 
 found. A warrant was instantly issued to apprehend Eugene Aram, 
 who was discovered to be living at Lynn in the capacity of usher 
 at a school. He confessed before the magistrate that he was well 
 acquainted with Clark, and, to the best of his remembrance, about 
 or before the 8th of February, 1744-5, but utterly denied any par- 
 ticipation in the frauds which Clark stood charged with at the time 
 of his disappearance. He also declared he knew nothing of the 
 murder, and that the statements made by his wife were without 
 exception false : he, however, declined to sign his examination on 
 the same plea preferred by Houseman, that he might recollect him- 
 self better, and lest anything should be omitted which might after- 
 wards occur to him. On being conducted to the castle, he desired 
 to return, and acknowledged that he was at his own house when 
 Houseman and Clark came to him with some plate, of which Clark 
 had defrauded his neighbours. He could not but observe that the 
 former was very diligent in assisting; in fact, it was altogether 
 Houseman's business; and there was no truth whatever in the 
 statement that he came there to sign a note or instrument. All the 
 leather which Clark had possessed himself of, amounting to a con- 
 siderable value, was concealed under flax at Houseman's house, 
 with the intention of disposing of it little by little, to prevent any 
 suspicion of his being concerned in the robbery. The plate was 
 beaten flat in St. Robert's Cave. At four o'clock in the morning, 
 they, thinking it was too late to enable Clark to leave with safety, 
 
470 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 agreed that he should stay there till the next night, and he accord, 
 ingly remained there all the following day. In order, then, the 
 better to effect his escape, they both went down to the cave, House 
 man only entering, while he watched without, lest any person 
 should surprise them. On a sudden he heard a noise, and House- 
 man appeared at the mouth of the cave, and told him that Clark 
 was gone. He had a bag with him, containing plate, which he 
 said he had purchased of Clark, money being much more portable 
 than such cumbersome articles. They then went to Houseman's 
 house, and concealed the property there, he fully believing that 
 Clark had escaped. He never beard anything of Clark subse- 
 quently, and was as much surprised to hear there was a suspicion 
 of his being murdered, as that be (Eugene Aram) should be con- 
 sidered to be the murderer. Notwithstanding this surprise, how- 
 ever, his examination having been signed, he wa3 committed with 
 his companion to York Castle, there to await the assizes. 
 
 On the 3rd August, 1759, they were both brought to the bar. 
 Houseman was arraigned on the former indictment, acquitted, and 
 admitted evict •_ .ice against Aram, who was thereupon arraigned. 
 Houseman was then called and deposed to the same effect as that 
 which has already appeared in his own confession. Several wit- 
 nesses were called who gave evidence as to finding several kinds 
 of goods buried in Aram's garden, Aram's knowledge of the fact 
 of Clark's possessing two hundred pounds, and to show that they 
 both had been seen together on the evening of the 7th February. 
 After which the skull was produced in court; on the left side there 
 was a fracture, from the nature of which it was impossible to have 
 been done but by the stroke of some blunt instrument. The skull 
 was beaten inwards, and could not be replaced but from within. 
 The surgeon gave it as his opinion, that no such breach could 
 proceed from natural decay; that it was not a recent fracture by 
 the spade or axe by which it might have been dug up; but seemed 
 to be of some years' standing. 
 
 Eugene Aram's defence, which he read, was marked with an 
 undoubted manifestation of very considerable powers. It was learn- 
 ed and argumentative ; and in some passages, glowing and eloquent. 
 He attempted to show, that no rational inference can be drawn 
 that a person is dead who suddenly disappears ; — that hermitages 
 such as St.llobert's Cave were the constant repositories of the bones 
 of the recluse ; that the proofs of this wt re well authenticated ; and, 
 that therefore the conclusion that the bones found were those of some 
 
EUGENE ARAM. 271 
 
 one killed in battle, or of some ascetic, remained no less reasonably 
 than impatiently expected by him. A verdict of guilty was however 
 returned, and he was condemned to be hanged accordingly. 
 
 On the morning after his condemnation, he confessed the justice 
 of his sentence to the two gentlemen who attended him, and ac- 
 knowledged that he had murdered Clark. He told them, also, 
 that he suspected Clark of having an unlawful commerce with his 
 wife ; and that at the time of the murder he felt persuaded he was 
 acting right, but since, he had thought otherwise. 
 
 It was generally believed, as he promised to make a more ample 
 confession on the day he was executed of every thing prior to the 
 murder, that the whole would have been disclosed; but he put an 
 end to any further discovery, by an attempt upon his own life. 
 When he was called from his bed to have his chains taken off, he 
 refused, alleging that he was very weak. On moving him, it was 
 found he had inflicted a severe wound upon his arm, from which 
 the blood was flowing copiously. He had concealed a razor in the 
 condemned hold some time before. By proper and prompt appli- 
 action3 he was brought to himself and though weak from loss of 
 blood conducted to Tyburn in York, where being asked if he had 
 any thing to say, he answered, " No." He was then executed, 
 and his body conveyed to Knaresborough Forest, and hung in 
 chains August 6, 1759, pursuant to his sentence. 
 
 That Eugene Aram murdered Clark is beyond all question, since 
 we have his confession ; that he committed the murder, actuated 
 by the cause he alleges, is open to great suspicion. The strange 
 solicitude which all men, even the most vicious, manifest, to leave 
 behind a memory mingled with some little good, prompted him, 
 doubtless, to give his crime the ennobling, or at least, mitigatory 
 motive to which he attributes it. Whether the perpetration of a 
 murder can be justified, even urged by the wrong Aram states 
 himself to have suspected, may be left to the consideration of the 
 casuist; but whether the dreadful act can be extenuated by as de- 
 liberate and foul an attack on the virtue and character of an inno- 
 cent and industrious woman, whom he upon all occasions treated 
 with infamous barbarity, is a question we can confidently leave to 
 the judgment and moral sense of every man. That Eugene Aram 
 was leagued with Clark and Houseman in their fraud at Knares- 
 borough, there can be little doubt ; that he plundered his unhappy 
 victim after he had murdered him, there can be less ; that no sense 
 of domestic injury would urge a man to rob another who had wrong- 
 ed him after he had slain him, needs only to be mentioned to oe 
 
873 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 admitted; and theretore, believing conscientiously from these facts 
 that th» charge against his wife was not maintainable, a double 
 indignation is entailed upon the wretch who could add to the mea- 
 sure of his crime this gratuitious calumny. 
 
 Notwithstanding these facts and the inferences that every atten- 
 tive reader must inevitably draw from them, Eugene Aram has 
 : een deemed a fit hero for a popular novel ; and the execration with 
 which he should have been consigned to posterity has been attempt- 
 ed to be converted into a sentimental commiseration for a gentle 
 student who beat out his friend's brains on philosophical principles, 
 and converts his property to his own use purely with a view to the 
 interests of science and the intellectual progression of the world at 
 large. 
 
 There is a remarkable similarity in crime and conduct between 
 Aram and Thurtell, though they were so totally dissimilar in other 
 particulars. Both were cold blooded, determined murderers — both 
 selected for their victim an individual with whom they had been 
 concerned in deeds of plunder ; though Thurtell had the advantage 
 in being incited to his atrocity by revenge, Weare having cheated 
 him at play. The defence of both was conducted on the same 
 principle, that of endeavouring to overturn the evidence, by citing 
 a variety of instances to prove witnesses might be mistaken ; for 
 an uneducated man, Thurtell's defence was as clever as Aram's, 
 and made a great impression on his judge, who complimented him 
 upon it. Thurtell committed his defence to memory, and delivered 
 it as if extemporaneously. Aram committed his to paper, and 
 read it in court. Much has been said of Aram's general gentleness, 
 love of learning, &c, and an attempt has been made to create 
 an interest in his favour from these circumstances. Human 
 nature is full of strange anomalies — we do not conceive this to 
 argue any thing ; — Aram murdered Clark for the mere sake of his 
 money — he would have shot his wife if he had had the opportunity ; 
 and it appears from a statement in the Literary Gazette, emanating 
 from Dr. L., Master of the Grammar School in Lynn, where 
 Aram was arrested, that on one occasion when the doctor had re- 
 ceived a considerable sum of money from the parents of his pupils, 
 he was awakened by a noise at his bed-room door, in the middle 
 of the night, and detected Aram there, dressed and in great con- 
 fusion. The impression of the doctor was, that Aram, knowing 
 he had the money in his bed-room, intended to rob, and no doubt 
 to murder him, if it had been rendered necessary by discovery or 
 opposition. Thurtell could bring forth as many claims to favour- 
 
GEORGE BARRINGTON. 273 
 
 able consideration as Aram. Determined murderer as Thurtell 
 was, nothing could be more frank and good-natured than his gen- 
 eral conduct;— and we have heard of many acts of disinterested- 
 ness, humanity, and even honour emanating from him. Thurtell 
 was as passionately attached to oratory and the drama as ever Aram 
 could have been to philological researches ; and the manly and 
 decent manner with which Thurtell resigned himself to his fate 
 certainly gives him the advantage over the cowardly shrinking, at 
 the eleventh hour, of the linguist. 
 
 GEORGE BARRINGTON 
 
 Was originally a native and inhabitant of Ireland; and, as it will 
 appear in the sequel that the name of Barrington was assumed, let 
 it suffice to remark that his father's name was Henry Waldron, and 
 that he was a working silversmith ; while his mother, whose maiden 
 name was Naish, was a mantua-maker, and occasionally a mid- 
 wife. 
 
 Our adventurer was born about the year 1755, at the village of 
 Maynooth, in the county of Kildare. His parents, who bore a 
 good character for their industry, integrity, and general good be- 
 haviour, were however, never able to rise to a state of indepen- 
 dence, or security from indigence, owing to their engagement in a 
 law-suit with a more powerful and opulent relative, in order to 
 the recovery of a legacy, to which they conceived they had a legal 
 right. To the narrowness of their circumstances, the neglect of 
 their son's education is imputed; and therefore, they were incap- 
 able of improving, or of giving a proper bias to those early indica- 
 tions of natural abilities, and a superiority of talents, which must 
 inevitably have unfolded themselves even in the dawn of young 
 Barrington's existence. He was, notwithstanding these obstacles, 
 instructed in reading and writing at an early age, at their expence ; 
 and afterwards, through the bounty of a medical gentleman in the 
 neighbourhood, he was initiated in the principles of common arith- 
 metic, the elements of geography, and the outlines of English 
 grammar. 
 
 This ill-fated youth, however, enjoyed but for a short time the 
 benefits he derived from the kindness of his first patron, a digni- 
 tary of the church in Ireland ; for the violence of his passions 
 
 T 
 
274 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 which equalled at least the extent of his talents, precipitated him 
 into an action by which he lost his favour for ever, and which, in 
 its consequences, finally proved his ruin. When he had been 
 about half a year at the grammar-school in Dublin, to which ho 
 had been sent by his patron, he unluckily got into a dispute with 
 a lad, much older, larger, and stronger than himself; the dispute 
 degenerated into a quarrel, and some blows ensued, in which young 
 Waldron suffered considerably ; but in order to be revenged, he 
 stabbed his antagonist with a penknife; and had he not bCen 
 seasonably prevented, would have in all probability murdered 
 him. The discipline of the house, (flogging) however, was in- 
 flicted with proper severity on the perpetrator of so atrocious an 
 offence, which irritated the unrelenting and vindictive temper of 
 the young man to such a degree that he determined at once to run 
 away from school, from his family, and from his friends; thus 
 abandoning the fair prospects that he had before him, and blasting 
 all the hopes that had been fondly, though vainly, formed of the 
 great things that might be effected by his genius when matured by 
 time and improved by study. 
 
 His plan of escape was no sooner formed than it was carried 
 ato execution ; but previously to his departure, he found means to 
 steal ten or twelve guineas from the master of the school, and a 
 gold repeating watch from Mrs. Goldsborough, the master's sister. 
 With this booty, a few shirts, and two or three pair of stockings, 
 he silently but safely effected his retreat from the school-house, in 
 the middle of a still night in the month of May 1771 ; and pursu- 
 ing the great northern road all that night, and all the next day, 
 he late in the evening arrived at the town of Drogheda, without 
 interruption, without accident, and in a great measure without 
 halting, without rest, and without food. 
 
 The first place of safety at which young Waldron thought pro- 
 per to halt, was at an obscure inn at Drogheda, where a company 
 of strolling players happened to be at that time, it was the occa- 
 sion of a new series of acquaintance, which, though formed on 
 precipitation and on the spur of the occasion, was retained from 
 choice and affection for a number of years. 
 
 One John Price, the manager of the strolling company, became 
 quickly the confidant and from the confidant the sole counsellor 
 of the young fugitive Waldron, who, influenced by the ardour, the 
 natural and unguarded ingenuousness of a youthful mind, com- 
 municated to this new friend, without reserve, all the circumstances 
 of his life and story. By his advice this unhappy youth renounced 
 
 
GEORGE BARR1NGTON. 275 
 
 his paternal name, assumed that of Barrington, entered into the 
 company, and in the course of four days, became so absolutely 
 and formally a strolling son of Thespis, that he performed the part 
 of Jaffier in " Venice Preserved," with some applause, to a crowd- 
 ed audience, in a barn in the suburbs of Drogheda; and this with 
 out the assistance of a prompter. 
 
 Though the reception he met with on his debut was very flatter- 
 ing to a mind like his, Price, as well as himself, thought it would 
 not be proper for him to appear in public so near the scene of his 
 late depredations in the capital. It was therefore resolved on by 
 them that the whole company should without delay move to the 
 northward, and, if possible, get to the distance of sixty or eighty 
 miles from Dublin before they halted for any length of time. In 
 order to enable so numerous a body to move with all their baggage, 
 it was necessary to raise money; and in doing this, Barrington's 
 assistance being the first thing that offered, was indispensably ne- 
 cessary. He was accordingly applied to, and acquiesced with a 
 good grace, giving Price Mrs. Goldsborough's gold repeater, which 
 was disposed of for the general benefit of the strollers. 
 
 As soon as the necessary funds were procured, all these children 
 of Thespis set out for Londonderry, which was the place at which 
 they first designed to play. Travelling but slowly they were a 
 considerable time on their journey; and during the course of it, 
 the penetrating eyes of the experienced actresses discovered that 
 Barrington had made a tender impression on the heart of Miss 
 Egerton, the young lady who played the part of Belvidera when 
 he acted that of Jaffier at Drogheda. This poor girl was the 
 daughter of an opulent tradesman at Coventry. She was young 
 and beautiful, sweet tempered and accomplished, but now friend- 
 less ; and, though like the rest, inured to misfortune, she was des- 
 titute of the experience which is generally acquired during a series 
 of sinister and untoward events. At the age of sixteen, she was 
 seduced by a lieutenant of marines, with whom she fled from her 
 father's house to Dublin, where in less than three months he aban 
 doned her, leaving her a prey to poverty, infamy, and desperation. 
 
 Having been thus deceived in the simplicity of innocence by 
 the cunning and falsehood of one of the vilest and most profligate 
 of human beings, she had no other resource from the most extreme 
 want than closing with Price, who proposed to her to join his com- 
 pany ; which, situated as she was, she readily agreed to do, and 
 had been with him but a very short time when she saw Barrington, 
 of whom, being of a warm constitution, she became rather sudden 
 
276 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 ly enamoured. But t< the credit of our adventurer, although hit 
 affection was as ardent as her own, it was not of that brutal and 
 profligate cast that so frequently disgraces the devious paths of 
 youthful imprudence and indiscretion. On the part of Miss Eger- 
 on, the symptoms of her affection for him were so obvious, that, 
 inexperienced as he then was in matters of gallantry and intrigue, 
 he not only perceived her passion but was sensible of her merit, 
 and returned her love with perfect sincerity. 
 
 It was not long before Price, urged a second time Dy want of 
 money, found it expedient to insinuate to the unfortunate Barring- 
 ton, that a young man of his address and appearance might very 
 easily find means to introduce himself into some of the public 
 places to which the merchants and chapmen of that commercial 
 city generally resorted; and that he there might, without any great 
 difficulty, find opportunities of picking their pockets unnoticed, 
 and of escaping undetected, more especially at that particular time, 
 when, the fair being held, a favourable juncture afforded itself of 
 executing a plan of such a nature with safety and facility. The 
 idea pleased our needy adventurer, and the plan formed on it was 
 carried into execution by him and his trusty confidant John Price, 
 the very next day, with great success; at least such it appeared to 
 them at that time, their acquisitions having amounted, on the close 
 of the evening, to about forty guineas in cash, and about 150/. 
 Irish currency, in bank-notes; which, however, they artfully de- 
 termined not, on any account, to circulate in the part of the 
 kingdom in which they were obtained. This precaution became 
 peculiarly necessary; for several gentlemen having been robbed, 
 the town took the alarm, which was the greater, or at least made 
 the more noise, from the rarity of such events in that part of the 
 kingdom, where the picking of pockets is said to be very little 
 practised or known. But whatever the alarm was, or whatever 
 noise it made, neither Barrington nor his accomplice was sus- 
 pected. They however resolved to leave Derry as soon as they 
 could with any appearance of propriety depart from thence: so 
 that, having played a few nights as usual, with more applause than 
 profit, they and their associates of the sock and buskin removed 
 from Londonderry to Ballyshannon, in the county of Donegal, 
 and never more returned into that part of the kingdom, where 
 George Barrington may be considered as having commenced the 
 business of a regular and professed pickpocket, in the summer of 
 the year 1771, being at that time little more than sixteen years of 
 age, and having just laid by the profession of a strolling player. 
 
GEORGE BARR1NGTON. 271 
 
 This wretched company having now become thieves as well as 
 vagrants in the eye of the law, and compelled to subsist upon the 
 plunder above mentioned, after travelling about a fortnight, arriv- 
 ed at Ballyshannon. Here Barrington, with the company to which 
 he belonged, spent the autumn and the winter of the year 1771, 
 playing generally on Tuesdays and Saturdays, and picking pockets 
 with John Price every day in the week, whenever opportunity of- 
 fered; a business which, though attended with danger and certain 
 infamy, he found more lucrative and more entertaining than that 
 of the theatre, where his fame and his proficiency were by no means 
 equal to the expectations he had raised, or to the hopes that had 
 been formed of him on his first appearance at Drogheda. 
 
 From Ballyshannon, at length, having left the company of his 
 friend Price, he moved to the southward, with his faithful Miss 
 Egerton, whom he had the misfortune to lose for ever in crossing 
 the river Boyne, in which she was drowned, through the ignorance, 
 or the more culpable negligence of a ferryman. 
 
 Barrington, however, virtuous in his attachment to Miss Eger- 
 ton, was for some time inconsolable for the loss which he had just 
 sustained; but being neither of an age nor of a temper propitious 
 to the continuance of sorrowful sensations, he hastened to Lime- 
 rick, where he hoped to meet Price, his old accomplice. On his 
 arrival in that city, he learned that the person after whom he had 
 enquired had set out for Cork ten days before, and thither our ad- 
 venturer followed him, and found him within an hour after he 
 entered the town gates. On their meeting, it was agreed on by 
 them never more to think of the stage ; a resolution which was the 
 more easily executed, as the company to which they originally 
 belonged was now broken up and dispersed. It was besides settled 
 between them that Price should pass for Barrington's servant, and 
 Barrington should act the part of a young gentleman of large 
 fortune and of a noble family, who was not yet quite of age, but, 
 until he should attain that period, travelled for his amusement. 
 In pursuance of this hopeful scheme, horses were purchased, and 
 the master and man, now united as knight errant and esquire, and 
 well equipped for every purpose of depredation, accordingly took 
 their determination to act their several parts in the wild field of 
 adventure; and thus, in the summer of 1772, as the race grounds 
 in the south of Ireland presented themselves as the fairest objects, 
 they hastened to these scenes of spoliation, and were successful 
 even beyond their expectation. 
 
 Picking pockets being rather new amongst the gentry of Jreiaod 
 
278 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 their want of precaution rendered them a more easy prey to Mr. 
 Harrington and his accomplice, who found means to retire to Cork 
 on the setting in of winter, with a booty of nearly 1000J. In this 
 city, they found it convenient to fix their residence, at least till 
 the next spring. And now it was that Barrington first determined 
 within himself to become what has been called a gentleman pick- 
 pocket, and to affect both the airs and importance of a man of 
 fashion. . 
 
 In this desperate career of vice and folly, it was the fate of 
 Price, the preceptor of Barrington, to be first detected in the act 
 of picking the pocket of a gentleman of high rank, for which he 
 was tried, convicted, and in a very short period, sentenced to 
 transportation, for the term of seven years, to America. 
 
 Barrington, naturally alarmed at the fate of his iniquitous pre- 
 ceptor, without loss of time converted all his moveable property 
 into cash, and taking horse, made as precipitate a journey to 
 Dublin as he possibly could. 
 
 On his arrival there, he lived rather in a private and retired 
 manner, only lurking in the darkest evenings about the playhouses, 
 where he occasionally picked up a few guineas or a watch. But 
 he was soon weary of the sameness, and disgusted with the obs- 
 curity of a life of comparative retirement, such as that he led in 
 the Irish capital; so that when the spring and the fine weather 
 that accompanied it returned, he embarked on board the Dorset 
 yacht, which was then on the point of sailing with the Duke of 
 Leinster for Parkgate ; and before the expiration of the week, he 
 found himself for the first time of his life on English ground. 
 
 With Sir Alexander Schomberg, who commanded the Dorset 
 yacht, there were three other persons embarked, and of some dis- 
 tinction, from whence it appeared that the connexion which our 
 adventurer formed with them had considerable effect afterwards in 
 the course of the long succession of transactions in which he was 
 engaged. A young captain was one of the three who was most 
 conspicuous, and as it will appear, a striking, though an innocent 
 cause of Barrington's success in his projects of depredation. 
 
 It did not require so much sagacity and penetration as Barrington 
 at the time certainly possessed, to penetrate into the character of 
 this young gentleman, and to predict the good consequences that 
 might follow an intimacy with a young man of his rank, disposition, 
 and family. Actuated by a sordid sense of the utility of such a 
 connexion to one in his circumstances, the adventurer employed 
 all those base arts of flattery and insinuation, of which he had 
 
GEORGE BARRIJSGTON. #7§ 
 
 been long a perfect master, to ingratiate himself with this gentle- 
 man ; and in this design he succeeded to the utmost extent of his 
 wishes. Barrington formed an artful tale, which he told as his 
 own story, the purport of which was, that his father was a man of 
 a noble family in Ireland, and illustrious in England, to which 
 country he himself now came to study law in one of the inns of 
 court, more, however, to avoid the illnatured severity of a harsh, 
 unrelenting step-mother, which rendered his paternal mansion in 
 a great measure intolerable to him, than from any predilection for 
 the profession to which he intended to apply himself, but the 
 exercise of which the ample fortune that he was heir to would 
 render unnecessary. 
 
 The story took as well as could be desired by the inventor of it, 
 and it was settled between him and his new friend that he should, 
 on his arrival in town, enter himself of the Middle Temple, where 
 
 Mr. H n had some relations and a numerous acquaintance, to 
 
 whom, he said, he should be happy to introduce a gentleman so 
 eminently distinguished by his talents and his accomplishments, as 
 well as by his fortune and birth, as Mr. Barrington was. 
 
 It was also further agreed on between them, that they should 
 travel together to London; and they accordingly the next day 
 took a post-chaise at Parkgate, and continuing their journey by 
 easy stages through Chester, Nantwich, and Coventry, where they 
 stopped two or three days, arrived by the end of the week at the 
 Bath Coffee-house in Piccadilly, which, on the recommendation 
 of the captain, who had been several times before in the metropolis, 
 was fixed upon as their head- quarters for the remaining part of the 
 summer. 
 
 But the expensive manner in which he lived with Mr. H n, 
 
 and those to whose acquaintance that gentleman introduced him, 
 all of them gay, sprightly young fellows, who had money at com- 
 mand, in less than a month reduced the funds which Barrington 
 had brought w r ith him from Ireland to about twenty guineas, which 
 to him, who had been now for some years accustomed to live like 
 a man of affluent fortune, seemed to afford a very inconsiderable 
 resource : he therefore resolutely determined to procure a supply 
 of money by some means or other. One evening, while he was 
 deliberating with himself on the choice of expedients to recruit 
 his finances, he was interrupted in his meditations on the subject, 
 by the arrival of a party of his friends with the captain, who pro- 
 posed to accompany them to Ranelagh, where they had agreed to 
 meet some of their acquaintance, and to spend the evening. Their 
 
280 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 proposal was, without much hesitation, acceded to by Barrington, 
 and they, without further loss of time, ordered coaches to set them 
 down at that celebrated place of amusement. 
 
 Walking in the middle of the gay scenes that surrounded him, 
 he chanced to espy the two other companions of his voyage in the 
 Dorset Packet, to whom he only made a slight bow of recognition ; 
 and in less than a quarter of an hour afterwards he saw the Duke 
 of Leinster engaged deeply in conversation with two ladies and a 
 Knight of the Bath, who, it afterwards turned out, was Sir William 
 Draper; and near these he placed himself, quitting for a short time 
 the company to which he belonged. While he was stationed there, 
 an opportunity, which he considered a fair one, offered itself of 
 making a good booty, and he availed himself of it; he picked the 
 Duke's pocket of about eighty pounds, Sir William's of five-and- 
 thirly guineas, and one of the ladies of her watch, with all which 
 he got off undiscovered by the parties, and joined the captain and 
 his party as if nothing had happened out of the ordinary and com- 
 mon routine of affairs in such places of public recreation as llaue- 
 lagh. 
 
 A degree of fatality, rather unfortunate for Barrington, it seems, 
 occurred during the perpetration of the robbery just related; that 
 is to say, he was observed in the very act by one of the persons 
 who came with him in the Dorset yacht from Ireland to Parkgate ; 
 and this man, who was also a practitioner in the same trade of 
 infamy, lost no time in communicating what he saw to Barrington 
 himself, and that in a manner not by any means calculated to con- 
 ceal his triumph on the occasion : in fact, this gentleman's affairs 
 being pressing, he made very little ceremony of informing Mr. 
 Barrington that, unless he was willing to give him a share of the 
 plunder, he should communicate to the parties robbed, without 
 delay, the particulars of what he had seen. The consequence of 
 a proposal of this nature presenting a disagreeable alternative, Mr. 
 Barrington, as it may be imagined, naturally chose the least of 
 two evils, and, under pretence of being attacked with a sudden 
 complaint, immediately retired with his new acquaintance to town, 
 and putting up at the Golden Cross inn, at Charing-cross, the booty 
 acquired at Kanelagh was in some sense divided, the new intruder 
 contenting himself with taking the lady's watch, chain, &c, which 
 were of gold, and a ten pound note, leaving all the rest of the 
 money and bank-papers with Mr. Barrington, who, he probably 
 -onceived, had iuii the greatest risk to obtain them at first. 
 
 U*it in order to cement the connexion which these two were uow 
 
GEORGE BARRINGTON. 281 
 
 on the point of forming, Mr James (for by that name ihis new 
 accomplice called himself) insisted upon Barrington supping with 
 him; and as Mr. James knew the town much better than himself, 
 Barrington thought he would be a real acquisition, particularly in 
 helping him to dispose of the valuables he might acquire. Picking 
 pockets, therefore, was proposed by Mr. Barrington as a joint 
 concern. 
 
 The outlines of the future operations of these adventurous col- 
 leagues being adjusted, it was further agreed upon to have another 
 interview on the next day at a tavern in the Strand, there to 
 regulate the plan of their future conduct ; and affairs being so far 
 arranged, Barrington returned to his lodgings at the Bath Coffee- 
 house, where, luckily enough, neither Captain H n nor any 
 
 of his party were at that time arrived from Ranelagh. 
 
 The next morning, at breakfast, he informed his friend the cap- 
 tain, that on his return last night he chanced to meet a very worthy 
 relation of his, Sir Fitzwilliam Barrington, who engaged him that 
 day to dinner ; so that it would be out of his power to make one of 
 the party that were to spend the day with the captain at the Thatch- 
 ed-house tavern; but that, however, he would endeavour to con- 
 trive matters so as to join them early in the evening, and stay to 
 supper with them, if they were bent upon keeping it up to a late 
 hour. 
 
 This apology was received without any suspicion by the gentle- 
 man to whom it was made, as it accounted plausibly enough for 
 his fellow traveller's absenting himself, notwithstanding his prior 
 engagement to Mr. H n. 
 
 Afterwards, Barrington being dressed, called a coach and drove 
 to the Crown and Anchor tavern, wliere he found Mr. James, who 
 had been for some time waiting for him. The cloth being removed, 
 and the servants withdrawn, these worthy gentlemen entered upon 
 business. It was agreed upon, that whatever either acquired, should 
 be equally divided between them; and that in the sale of watches, 
 jewels, or any other articles they might have to dispose, of, both 
 should be present. By this provision, no suspicion of fraud could 
 be entertained: and thus Barrington got what he extremely wish- 
 ed, and greatly wanted, an introduction to a receiver of stolen 
 goods. It was farther settled by them, that while the captain re- 
 mained in town, they should take care not to be seen together, 
 and that Mr. James should resume his long neglected habit of a 
 clergyman. These weighty conditions, and some others of equaJ 
 
282 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 magnitude and importance, being ultimately adjusted to the satis- 
 faction of these systematic plunderers, it was determined on that 
 they should meet regularly twice a week, that is, on Tuesdays and 
 Fridays, to settle with each other; but never, if it could possibly 
 be avoided, twice at the same house. Having then adjourned to 
 the next Tuesday, and fixed on the Devil tavern, at Temple-bar, 
 as the place of their next meeting, our adventurers separated for 
 that time, Barrington going, according to his appointment, to flte 
 Thatched-house tavern, and reaching it about eight in the evening, 
 where he found his friend the Captain, and a large party of his 
 acquaintance. Though rather far gone in liquor, most of them 
 knew him personally, and considering him in the light in which 
 
 he was represented to them by Captian H n, as a young man 
 
 of condition, they were delighted with his company. He only 
 waited till the bills were called for, and the reckoning discharged, 
 when, there being no farther obstacle to a hasty retreat, he plun- 
 dered those who were most off their guard ; or rather those who, as 
 he supposed, were possessed of the most portable kind of property. 
 Still, as the prey then made consisted more of watches and trinkets 
 than ready cash, he was under the necessity of calling upon Mr. 
 James, his new friend, next morning, who readily introduced him 
 to a man, a receiver of stolen property, and, who paying them 
 what they deemed an adequate consideration, they made the first 
 division with as much apparent satisfaction as if they had been 
 lawful dealers in the commodities of which they had unjustly de- 
 prived the right owners. 
 
 So strongly did appearance plead for him at this time, that Bar- 
 rington's depredation was never imputed to him by those who suf- 
 fered in consequence of it ; and though similar offences were at 
 different seasons, for upwards of two years, committed by him 
 without suspicion or detection, he preserved his fame, and even 
 extended his acquaintance. With certain superficial qualifications 
 for shining in company, and yet a stranger to honour or honesty, 
 in the summer of the year 1775, in the course of his depredations, 
 he visited, as his custom was, the most celebrated watering-places; 
 and among the rest he went to Brighton, which at that time, though 
 frequented by genteel company, was far from having arrived at the 
 celebrity which it has since acquired, especially since the conclu- 
 sion of the peace with France. But notwithstanding the paucity 
 of numbers at this watering-place, he is said to have had the 
 address to ingratiate himself into the notice and favour of the late 
 
GEORGE BAKRINGTON. 283 
 
 Duke of Ancaster, with several other persons of rank and property, 
 who a/1 considered him as a man of genius and ability, and as a gen- 
 tleman of fortune and noble family. 
 
 But, in tracing all Mr. Barrington's very singular connexions, 
 it is necessary to remark, that about the conclusion of this winter 
 he got acquainted with one Lowe, a very singular character, and 
 one who, like his friend James, he occasionally made use of to vend 
 his ill-gotten property. 
 
 Mr. Barrington's new junction with Mr. Lowe, having rendered 
 Mr. James rather a dead weight upon his hands, he began to think 
 about breaking with him, which he did not find a difficult matter, 
 as James, having at bottom some remorse of conscience for his 
 neglect of the laws of justice and moral obligation, very easily 
 quitted Mr. Barrington's connexion ; and what is more extraordi- 
 nary, being a Roman Catholic by profession, retired to a monaste- 
 ry upon the Continent, there in all probability to end his days in 
 piety and peace. Barrington, on the other hand, seemed to in- 
 crease in temerity and desperation; for on his forming a connexion 
 with Lowe, which was but a short time previous to that evening of 
 the month of January which was observed as the anniversary of 
 the queen's birth-day, it was resolved on between them, that, 
 habited as a clergyman, he should repair to court, and there endea- 
 vour, not only to pick the pockets of some of the company, but what 
 was a bolder and a much more novel attempt, to cut off the dia- 
 mond orders of some of the knights of the Garter, Bath, and 
 Thistle, who on such days usually wear the collars of their respec- 
 tive orders over their coats. In this enterprize he succeeded 
 beyond the most sanguine expectations that could have been formed 
 by either his new accomplice Lowe or himself; for he found means 
 to deprive a nobleman of his diamond order, and also contrived to 
 get away from the palace without suspicion. This being an article 
 of too much value to dispose of in England, it is reported that it 
 was sold to a Dutchman, or rather to a Dutch Jew, who came 
 over from Holland once or twice a-year for the sole object of buy- 
 ing jewels that had been stolen; and though a stranger, he is 
 generally reported to have given a much higher price for such ar- 
 ticles, than could have been gotten from the eceivers in town. 
 
 The celebrated Russian Prince Orloff paid his first visit to Eng- 
 land in the winter of 1775. The high degree of estimation in 
 which that nobleman had long been held by the late Empress 
 Catherine, had ultimately heaped upon him not a few of her dis- 
 tinguishing favours. Among other things of this nature, she had 
 
284 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 expressed her approbation of his merits by presenting him with a 
 gold snuff-box, set with brilliants, generally supposed to have 
 been worth no less a sum than thirty thousand pounds. This 
 distinguishing trophy having caught the eye of Barrington, im- 
 pelled him to contrive means to get it into his possession, and he 
 thought a fit opportunity presented itself one night at Covent Garden 
 Theatre, where getting near the prince, he had the dexterity to 
 convey it out of his excellency's waistcoat pocket into his «wn ; 
 when, being immediately suspected by the prince, he seized him 
 by the collar; but, in the bustle that took place, Barrington slip- 
 ped the box into his hand, which that nobleman gladly retained, 
 though Barrington, to the astonishment of all around, was secured 
 and lodged in Tothill-ficlds Bride well till the Wednesday following, 
 when his examination took place at the public office in Bow-street. 
 Sir John Fielding being at that time the magistrate, Barring- 
 ton represented himself to him as a native of Ireland, of an 
 affluent and respectable family. He said that he had been educat- 
 ed in the medical line, and came to England to improve himself 
 by the extent of his connexions. To this plausible representation 
 he added so many tears, and seemed to rest so much upon his 
 being an unfortunate gentleman, rather than a guilty culprit, 
 that Prince Orloff declining to prosecute him, he was dismissed 
 with an admonition from the magistrate to amend his future con- 
 duct; but this, it will appear, had no manner of influence upon 
 his subsequent proceedings. In fact, Barrington having gone too 
 far to recede, every one now taking alarm at his character and 
 conduct, and the public prints naturally holding him up as a cheat 
 and impostor, he was even forsaken by those who, until that dis 
 covery of his practices, generally countenanced him, and enjoyed 
 his company as a young gentleman of no common abilities. 
 
 Being in the lobby of the Lords one day, when an appeal of au 
 interesting nature was expected to come on, so that Barrington 
 thought to profit by numbers of genteel people that generally 
 attend; unhappily for Barrington's projects, a gentleman recog- 
 nised his person, and applying to the Deputy Usher of the black 
 rod, Barrington was disgracefully turned out, and of course, totally 
 disappointed of the harvest he had promised himself. 
 
 Barrington, having by some means heard that this gentleman 
 was the person who had denounced him to the keeper of the lobby, 
 was so indiscreet as to threaten him with revenge for what he 
 deemed an unmerited injury; but the magistrates thinking other- 
 wise, they granted, upon that gentleman's complaint, a warrant 
 
GEORGE BARRINGTON. 285 
 
 against Barrington to bind him over to keep the peace. His credit 
 having sunk so very low, that not one of all his numerous acquaint- 
 ance would become a surety for him, he was compelled to go to 
 Tothill-field's Bridewell, where he remaned a considerable time 
 under confinement, from his inability to procure the bail that was 
 required. However, ha.ving again- obtained a release from that 
 disagreeable quarter, he had no alternative but that of his old pro- 
 fession, and therefore, in about three months afterwards, we find 
 him detected in picking the pocket of a low woman, at Drury-Lane 
 Theatre, for which, being indicted and convicted at the Old Bailey, 
 he was sentenced to ballast-heaving, or in other words, to three 
 year's hard labour on the river Thames, on board of the hulks at 
 Woolwich. As soon as it was convenient, in the spring of 1777 
 Barrington was put on board one of these vessels. 
 
 A sudden remove from ease and affluence to a scene of wretched 
 servitude and suffering, and the privation of almost every comfort 
 in life, could not but have a most sensible effect upon a man in his 
 condition. In short, he was not only harrassed and fatigued with 
 labour, to which he had been unaccustomed, but even disgusted with 
 the filthy language of his fellow convicts, whose blasphemous effu- 
 sions, which they seemed to make use of by way of amusement, 
 must have been a constant source of the most disagreeable sensa- 
 tions in the mind of almost any person not totally lost to the feelings 
 and the decencies of civilized, or even a savage state of existence. 
 At length the mental as well as the corporeal sufferings of Barring- 
 ton, did not escape the notice of Messrs. Erskine and Duncan Camp- 
 bell, the superintendents of the convicts; for, in consequence of 
 Barrington's good behaviour, and through the interference of these 
 gentlemen, he was again set at liberty, after sustaining nearly a 
 twelvemonth's severe suffering on board the hulks of Woolwich. 
 
 Still, nothing that Barrington had yet undergone was sufficient 
 to produce any cordial repentance in his mind. He again entered 
 into the full practice of his former profession. In less than six 
 months after his liberation from hard labour, he was detected by 
 one Payne, a very zealous constable in the city, in the very act of 
 picking pockets at St. Sepulchre's church during divine service, 
 and being convicted upon undeniable evidence at the ensuing Old 
 Bailey Sessions, he was a second time sentenced to hard labour on 
 board the hulks, and that for five years. 
 
 It was upon his trial on this occasion, that Barrington was first 
 noticed in the public prints as an able speaker. He then essayed, 
 with n< small degree of artifice, to interest the feelings of the court 
 
286 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 in his behalf; but the evidences of his guilt being too forcible and 
 repeated, and all his efforts proving abortive, he was once more 
 removed to the hulks, about the middle of the year 1778. Being 
 a second time in this humiliating and disgraceful situation, he found 
 his imaginary consequence so much hurt, that, failing in a variety 
 of plans to effect his escape, his next attempt was to destroy him- 
 self. For this purpose, he took an opportunity to be seen stabbing 
 himself with a penknife in the breast; but as the wound, by.the 
 immediate application of medical assistance, was slowly heated, 
 he continued to linger in this new state of wretchedness, till hap- 
 pening to be seen by a gentleman who came to visit the hulks, it 
 produced another event in his favour. 
 
 The gentleman just alluded to being most sensibly affected by 
 the dejected and squalid appearance of Barrington, made a most 
 successful use of his influence with government to obtain Barring- 
 ton's release, upon the condition that he should leave the kingdom. 
 To this as Barrington gladly assented, he generously supplied him 
 with a sum of money to defray the expense of his removal to Ire- 
 land, where it is understood this unhappy offender always persisted 
 in stating that he had friends and relatives of credit and character. 
 In London he did not think proper to stay longer than was needful 
 to procure necessaries for his journey ; he therefore took the Chester 
 coach, and in the course of a week was enabled to reach the Irish 
 capital, where his fame having arrived before, he was looked upon 
 with such an eye of suspicion, that he was very shortly apprehend- 
 ed for picking the pocket of an Irish nobleman of a gold watch 
 and his money at one of the theatres, and was soon after committed 
 to the New Gaol to be tried upon the charge, but was acquitted for 
 want of evidence. 
 
 Though he was acquitted on this occasion, he was perfectly con- 
 vinced that the Irish capital would be too warm to retain him. He 
 quickly determined to leave Ireland, and accordingly removed 
 to the northern parts of that kingdom, through which he took his 
 way to Edinburgh, where he concluded that he might, for some 
 time at least, commit his depredations with greater safety and faci- 
 lity than he could do either in London or Dublin. 
 
 But, in the opinion which he had formed of the character of the 
 Scots, he soon learned by experience that he was grossly mistaken: 
 for he was quickly observed in the capital of Scotland, where the 
 police is more vigilant and severe than in most other parts of the 
 British dominions. He therefore thought it prudent to depart from 
 Edinburgh, where his gleanings were comparatively small. 
 
GEORGE BARRINGTON. 287 
 
 However, being determined to return to London, he took the 
 Chester in his way, and it being fair-time there, he is said to have 
 contrived to get possession of the amount of six hundred pounds in 
 cash and banknotes, with which he got clear off. 
 
 Such are the delusions of vice and the fatal sweets of ill-gotten 
 wealth, that, though additional danger attended his public appear- 
 ance, from the infraction of the terms on which he was liberated 
 from his confinement on board the hulks, (which were those of his 
 leaving the kingdom and never more returning to it,) still he fre- 
 quented the theatres, the Opera-House, and the Pantheon, with 
 tolerable success. But he was now too notorious to be long secure : 
 he was closely watched and well nigh detected at the latter of these 
 places ; at least, such strong suspicions were entertained by the 
 magistrates of hi* conduct on the occasion, that he was taken into 
 custody, and committed to Newgate. 
 
 Here again, for want of evidence, he got clear of the charge 
 brought against him; but, notwithstanding this, he was unexpect- 
 edly detained at the instance of Mr. Duncan Campbell, the super- 
 intendent of the convicts, for having returned to England, in 
 violation of the condition on which His Majesty was pleased to 
 grant him a remission of the punishment which he was sentenced 
 to undergo on board the hulks ; and the consequence of the detainer 
 was, that he was made what is called a fine at Newgate, during 
 the unexpired part of the time that he was originally to have ser- 
 ved on the Thames. When the period of his captivity in this 
 prison expired, he was, as a matter of course, set at liberty ; and 
 as usual, no sooner obtained his liberty, than he returned to his 
 former practices. He, however, was now more cautious; and 
 being connected with some accomplices of his own cast, he was 
 not so easily detected as he might have been with others less 
 experienced. 
 
 In a state of alarm and anxiety, he lived a considerable time in 
 the society of the most profligate and abandoned characters of the 
 metropolis, when he was seen to pick the pocket of Mr. Le Mesu- 
 rier, at Drury-lane playhouse, and was immediately apprehended. 
 Charge of him was given to one Blandy, a constable, who, through 
 negligence or corruption, suffered him to make his escape. The 
 proceedings against him were carried on to an outlawry, and vari- 
 ous methods were made use of to detect him, for nearly two years, 
 without effect. 
 
 But while the lawyers were outlawing him, and the constables 
 endeavouring to take him, he was travelling in various disguises 
 
288 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 and characters through the northern counties of this kingdom 
 He visited the great towns in those parts as a quack-doctor, or as 
 a clergyman; sometimes he went with an E. O. table, and some- 
 times he pretended to be a traveller to a manufacturing house at 
 Birmingham or Manchester; and travelling on horseback, with a 
 decent deportment and grave appearance, the account which he 
 thought proper to give of himself was credited, without any diffi- 
 culty, by those who questioned him. •» 
 
 But, in spite of all these precautions, it sometimes happened 
 that he was known by gentlemen whom he met, once particularly 
 in Lincolnshire; yet no one offered to molest or intercept him, until 
 he arrived at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, where, on being recognised, 
 he was suspected of picking pockets, and, on enquiry, was disco- 
 vered to be an outlaw : upon which he was removed by a writ 
 of habeas corpus to London, and imprisoned in Newgate where he 
 arrived miserably and so dejected, that on learning his circum- 
 stances, some of his friends made a subscription for him, by 
 which they collected near a hundred guineas for his use, by which 
 he was enabled to employ counsel, and to take legal measures to 
 have the outlawry against him reversed. 
 
 This being effected, he was tried for the original offence, that of 
 stealing Mr. Le Mesurier's purse; but, through the absence of the 
 Rev. Mr. Adeane, a material witness for the prosecution, he was 
 acquitted. Being once more enlarged, he again setoff for Ireland, 
 in company with a young man of the name of Hubert, well known 
 in town for his fraud on the Duke of York. With this accomplice 
 he was so infatuated as to endeavour to carry on his depredations 
 in Dublin, where it was never his fortune to remain for any length 
 of time undetected ; for, Hubert being taken in the fact of picking 
 a gentleman's pocket, and handing the property to Barrington, he 
 with great difficulty made his escape to England, where he rambled 
 about for some time previously to his arrival in the capital, which 
 he had scarcely entered, when he was taken into custody for pick- 
 ing Mr. Henry Hare Townsend's pocket of a gold watch. 
 
 Hubert, his accomplice, was tried at Dublin, and sentenced to 
 transportation for seven years ; but he afterwards contrived to make 
 his escape. 
 
 On Wednesday morning, September 15th, 1790, Barrington was 
 put to the bar to be arraigned on an indictment charging him with 
 stealing, on the 1st September, 1790, in the parish of Eniield, a 
 ^old watch, chain, and seals, the property of Henry Hare Town- 
 send, Esq. Uoon this occasion Bairington displayed all the talents 
 
GEORGE BARRINGTON. 289 
 
 which it has been universally admitted he possessed; but in spite 
 of a long speech, which professed, whether sincere or assumed, 
 great contrition for his past offences, and a determination to amend 
 his life for the future, he was convicted, and sentenced by the judge 
 to seven year's transportation. 
 
 During the voyage to Port Jackson, Barrington rendered an 
 essential service in quelling a mutiny in the vessel. Upon this 
 occasion the captain evinced his gratitude for the services he had 
 performed, and when they reached the Cape, at the recommenda- 
 tion of the former, he received a hundred dollars reward for his zeal 
 and activity. 
 
 On their arrival at Port Jackson, Barrington having been recom- 
 mended to the governor, was placed in the first instance at Tam- 
 gabbe as a subordinate, and was soon advanced to be a principal 
 watchman, in which situation he acquitted himself as a useful and 
 active officer; insomuch that the governor determined to withdraw 
 him from the convicts ; and at the same time that he received his in- 
 strument of emancipation, he was presented with a grant of thirty 
 acres of land at Paramatta. He was subsequently appointed super- 
 intendent of the convicts ; and although not permitted to return to 
 England, was invested with all the immunities of a freeman, a set- 
 tler, and a civil officer, and had the satisfaction to know that his dili- 
 gence and activity were not only without suspicion, but were fully 
 appreciated. 
 
 It was here that Barrington resolved to revise the notes he had 
 taken during the voyage, and of describing more fully the places 
 they had touched at. He has accordingly produced a very useful 
 and instructive work. 
 
 In addition to this performance, he compiled a complete history 
 of the country itself, from its first discovery, comprehending an 
 account of its original inhabitants, their customs and manners, 
 accompanied with an historical detail of the proceedings of the 
 colony from its foundation to his own time. 
 
 Barrington's good behaviour after his arrival at Sidney, gained 
 him many friends; by whose interest he was appointed constable; 
 and while in that office he wrote a prologue to a play that was 
 brought out at Sidney, the two first lines of which ran as follows : — 
 
 True Patriots we, for, be it understood, 
 We left our Country, for our Country's good. 
 
 This was perfectly understood by the audience, and elicited con- 
 siderable applause, as the remainder of the prologue was equally 
 uitty. 
 
 U 
 
290 ENGLISH HIGHWAYMEN. 
 
 He continued in the situation in which the governor had placed 
 him till his death : and performed the duties of his office with an 
 unwearied assiduity, which at last superinduced a general decay of 
 nature, of which he died in the year 1811. 
 
 The life of Barrington presents much food for those who are 
 believers in the pernicious doctrines of Fatality — and has always 
 been brought forward and adduced by them as one proof of the 
 truth of the tenets which they endeavour to promulgate. 
 
 That his whole existence was an evidence of the truth of the old 
 saying " that great effects spring from trifling causes" we must 
 allow, but the same may be said of almost every other human 
 being, whether in a high or low state of society. 
 
 That there is a secret influence by which the affairs both of men 
 and nations are governed, whether domestic or political, we are 
 willing to allow, but we are fully convinced, that every thing that 
 can tend to benefit a man's estate, must be derivable from himself, 
 must be produced by his own energy of mind, activity of body, 
 and decision of character, in the first instance, or as Shakspeare 
 beautifully expresses it — 
 
 " There is a tide in the affairs of men, 
 Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune ; 
 Omitted, all the voyage of their life 
 Is bound in shallows and in miseries." 
 Barrington, like too many of his fraternity, lost the golden 
 opportunity in his early life, and his whole existence afterwardi 
 was as the waves of the sea — unsubjeeted to control, unrestrained 
 by licence, and unchecked by religion. , 
 
ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 SIR HENRY MORGAN 
 
 Was a native of Wales, and descended from a respectable familv. 
 His father was a wealthy farmer; but young Morgan had no incli- 
 nation to that industrious mode of life. Abandoning his father'* 
 house, he hastened to a sea-port town, where several vessels were 
 bound for the Isle of Barbadoes. He went into the service of one 
 of these ; and upon his arrival in the island, was sold for a slave. 
 Having obtained his liberty, he proceeded to Jamaica, where finding 
 two pirate vessels ready to go to sea, he went on board one of them, 
 with the intention of becoming pirate. Having performed several 
 successful voyages, he agreed with some of his companions to unite 
 their wealth to purchase a vessel; which being done, he was 
 unanimously chosen captain. m 
 
 With this vessel he went to cruise upon the coasts of Campeachy, 
 and capturing several vessels, returned in triumph to Jamaica. 
 Upon his arrival, one Mansvelt, an old pirate, was equipping a 
 fleet, with the intention of landing upon the continent and pillag- 
 ing the country. The success of Morgan induced Mansvelt to 
 choose him for his vice-admiral. With a fleet of fifteen ships and 
 *ive hundred men, they set sail from Jamaica, and arrived at the 
 Isle of St. Catherine. Here they made a descent, and landed the 
 greater part of their men. 
 
 They soon forced the garrison to surrender, and to deliver up 
 all the forts and castles, which they demolished, only reserving 
 one, in which they placed a hundred men, and the slaves they had 
 taken from the Spaniards. Then proceeding to an adjoining small 
 island, and having destroyed both islands with fire and sword, and 
 made what arrangements were necessary at the castle, which thev 
 
2« ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 had garrisoned, they set sail in quest of new spoils. They cruised 
 upon the coasts of Costa Rica, and entered the river Calla, with 
 the intention of pillaging all the towns upon the coast. 
 
 Informed of their arrival, and of their former depredations, the 
 governor of Panama collected a force to oppose the pirates. They 
 fled at his approach, and hastened to the Island of St. Catherine 
 to visit their companions who were left in the garrison. Le Sieu.r 
 Simon, the Governor, had put the large island in a posture of de- 
 fence, and cultivated the small island with such care, that it was 
 able to afford fresh provisions to the whole fleet. The vicinity of 
 these islands to the Spanish dominions, and the ease with which 
 they could be defended, strongly inclined Mansvelt to retain them 
 in perpetual possession. 
 
 With this view he returned to Jamaica to send out greater num- 
 bers, that they might thus be able to defend themselves in case of 
 an attack from the Spaniards. He signified his intentions to the 
 Governor of Jamaica upon his return home ; but, afraid of offend- 
 ing the King of England, and of weakening the strength of his 
 own island, the governor declined complying with his wishes. 
 Baffled in his designs, he went to the Island of Tortuga to solicit 
 reinforcements from the governor; but before he could effect his 
 purpose, death suddenly put an end to his wicked career. 
 
 Meanwhile, the governor of the garrison of St. Catherine, re- 
 ceiving no intelligence of his admiral, was extremely anxious con- 
 cerning the cause of his long absence. The Spanish governor of 
 Costa Rica, apprised of the injury that would accrue to his master 
 by those two islands^emaining in the hands of the pirates, equipped 
 a considerable fleet to retake the islands. But, before proceeding 
 to extremities, he wrote to Le Sieur Simon to inform him that, if 
 he willingly surrendered, he should be amply rewarded; but, if 
 he resisted, severely punished. Having no hope of being able to 
 defend the islands against such a superior force, he surrendered 
 them into the hands of their rightful owner. A few days after this, 
 an English vessel arrived from Jamaica with a large supply of men, 
 women, and stores. The Spaniards, seeing the ships from the 
 castle, prevailed upon Le Sieur Simon to go on board to decoy 
 them into the harbour : which he dexterously effecting, they were 
 all made prisoners. 
 
 But the active and intrepid mind of Morgan was soon employed 
 in the execution of new plans He at first equipped one ship, 
 with the intention of collecting as many as he possibly could i^ 
 form a strong fleet to carry on his depredations. Being successful 
 
SIR HENRY MORGAN. 293 
 
 in collecting a fleet of twelve sail, with seven hundred men, he 
 rendezvoused in a certain part of the island of Cuba. 
 
 Captain Morgan had only been two months in the south of Cuba, 
 when he called a council of his fleet to concert measures for attaek- 
 ing some part of the Spanish dominions. Several proposals were 
 agitated; but it was finally resolved to attack the town of El 
 Puerto del Principe. When arriving in the bay of that place, a 
 Spaniard, who was on board the pirate fleet, swam on shore during 
 the night, and gave intelligence of their designs to the governor 
 and inhabitants of the town. They hastened to conceal their 
 riches, and to muster their whole force to oppose the invaders. 
 Having »ollected about eight hundred men, cut down trees and 
 placed them across the road to impede the march of the pirates, 
 and formed several ambuscades, taking besides possession of a 
 pass through which they had occasion to penetrate; the governor, 
 with the remainder of his forces, drew up on an extended plain in 
 the vicinity of the town. 
 
 Captain Morgan, finding the passage to the town impenetrable, 
 made a circuit through the woods, escaped several of the ambuscades, 
 and with great difficulty arrived at the plain where the Spaniards 
 were waiting to give him a warm reception. A detachment of 
 horse first attacked him, but Morgan formed his men into a semi- 
 circle, and so valiantly and dexterously assailed the Spaniards, 
 that they fled towards the woods for safety, but before they could reach 
 the covert, the greater part fell under the swords of the invaders. 
 After a skirmish of four hours, Morgan and his men entered the 
 town, but the inhabitants having shut themselves up in their 
 houses, fired upon the enemy. Being severely annoyed by the 
 inhabitants i& this position, Captain Morgan threatened them, 
 " that if they did not surrender willingly, they should soon behohj 
 their city in flames, and their wives and children torn to pieces 
 before their eyes." Thus intimidated, they submitted to the dis- 
 cretion of the pirates. 
 
 The pirates then proceeded to unexampled cruelty ; shut up the 
 men, women, and children in the several churches, and plundered 
 the town ; then searched and pillaged the whole adjacent country, 
 and began to feast and rejoice, while they left their prisoners to 
 starve. Unsatisfied even with this, they began to torment them, 
 in order to constrain them to reveal where their money or goods 
 were concealed. 
 
 Finding no more to pillage, and provisions becoming scarce, the 
 pirates meditated a departure. With this intention, they intimated 
 
294 ENGLISH PlllATEb. 
 
 to the wretched inhabitants, " that if they did not ransom them- 
 selves, they should all be transported to Jamaica, and their city 
 laid in ashes." The Spaniards accordingly sent some of their 
 numbers to search the woods and country for the required contri- 
 butions. In a short time they returned, informing Captain Mor- 
 gan that they had been unsuccessful, but requested the space of 
 fifteen days in order to obtain the required ransom. To this he 
 consented, but in a short time a negro was taken with letters froui 
 the governor of St. Jago, requiring the prisoners to endeavour to 
 gain time from the invaders until he should come to their assist- 
 ance. 
 
 Upon this, Captain Morgan ordered all the spoils to be put on 
 board the ships, and informed the Spaniards that, if they did not 
 on the following day pay the ransom, he would set fire to the 
 city. 
 
 The inhabitants replied, that it was utterly impossible for them 
 to raise such a sum in so short a time, since the messengers whom 
 they had sent were not in the neighbourhood. Morgan knew their 
 intention, but deeming it unsafe to remain longer in that place, 
 demanded of them four hundred oxen, or cows, together with suffi- 
 cient salt to prepare them, with the additional condition, that they 
 should put them on board his ships. Under this stipulation he re- 
 tired with his men, taking six of the principal inhabitants as hos- 
 tages for the performance of the contract. With all possible expe- 
 dition the oxen were slain, salted, and put on board, the hostages 
 were relieved, and Captain Morgan took leave of that place, and 
 directed his course to a certain island, where he intended to divide 
 his booty. 
 
 Arrived at that place, he found that he had only fifty thousand 
 pieces of eight in money and in goods. This sum being insufficient 
 to pay his debts in Jamaica, the Captain proposed to his men that 
 they should attempt new exploits before returning home. To se- 
 cure success he admonished them to confide implicitly to his direc- 
 tion, and he would certainly accomplish the desired object. The 
 Frenchmen, however, disagreeing with the English, departed, 
 and left Captain Morgan and his countrymen, to the ainoun' of 
 four hundred and sixty, to seek their fortune in their owl wuy. 
 This rupture did not intimidate the adventurous Captain, but 
 labouring to inspire his men with the same spirit, he, with a fleet 
 of nine ships, directed his course towards the Continent. 
 
 Meanwhile, he concealed his intentions from every person in the 
 fleet, only assuring them that, by following his directions, he would 
 
SIR HENRY MORGAN. 2% 
 
 certainly enrich them with immense spoil. Arrived upon the coast 
 of Costa Rica, he informed them that his intention was to attack 
 the town of Puerta Vela by night. He encouraged them to this 
 bold enterprise with the assurance of success, saying, that as he 
 had communicated his design to none, the inhabitants would be 
 taken by surprise. To this some objected, on account of the few- 
 ness of their numbers ; but the Captain replied, " if our number 
 is small, our hearts are great, and the fewer persons we are, the 
 more union, and the better shares of the spoil." Stimulated w.ith 
 the hope of great riches, unanimously agreed upon the attack. 
 
 This place was esteemed the strongest that the King of Spain 
 possessed in the West Indies, except Havannah and Carthagena. 
 There were two castles situated in the entry of the harbour, which 
 were deemed almost impregnable. The garrison consisted of three 
 hundred men, and the town was inhabited by about four hundred 
 families. The place being unhealthy, on account of certain nox- 
 ious vapours which descend from the mountains, the merchants 
 only resided there when, the galleons came and went from Spain. 
 
 Captain Morgan being thoroughly acquainted with the whole 
 coast, and all the approaches to the city, arrived in the dusk, of the 
 evening at a place about ten leagues west of the town. He pro- 
 ceeded up the river to another harbour called Puerta Pontia, and 
 came to anchor. Leaving the vessels with a few men, the rest got 
 into the boats and canoes, and about midnight they went on shore, 
 and marched to the first watch of the city. An Englishman who 
 had been prisoner in that town, was their guide ; and he was com- 
 manded, with some others, either to take or slay the sentinel. 
 They seized him before he could give the alarm, bound his hands, 
 and brought him to Captain Morgan, who asked him, " how mat- 
 ters went in the city, and what force they had," with many other 
 questions, threatening him with instant death upon his refusing 
 to declare the truth. He then advanced towards the city, with 
 the sentinel walking before; and when he arrived at the first cas- 
 tle, surrounded it with his men. 
 
 In this position, he commanded the sentinel to accost those 
 within the walls, and inform them that, if they did not surrender, 
 they would all be cut to pieces without the least mercy. But regard* 
 less of his threatenings, they instantly began to fire, which gave 
 the alarm to the whole city. The pirates, however, took the cas- 
 tle; and having shut up the officers and men in one room, they 
 blew up the castle with all its inhabitants. Pursuing their victory, 
 they attacked the city. The governor not being able to rally, the 
 
896 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 citizens fled to one of the castles, and from thence fired upon the 
 pirates. The assault continued from the dawn of the morning 
 until noon ; and victory remained in great suspense, until a troop 
 of those who had taken the other castle, came to meet their Cap- 
 tain with loud shouts of victory. This inspired the Captain with 
 new resolution to exert every effort to take this castle also. He 
 was the more stimulated to this, as the principal inhabitants, with 
 their riches, and all the plate belonging to the different churches 
 were deposited in that fort. 
 
 With this view, he caused ten or twelve ladders to be constructed 
 with all expedition ; and having brought a number of the religious 
 men and women from the cloisters, he commanded them to place 
 these upon the walls. The governor of the castle was, however, 
 little influenced by the superstition of his countrymen ; he was 
 therefore, deaf to all their cries and entreaties to surrender and 
 save their lives and his own. That brave commander declared, 
 that he would never surrender the castle ; and continuing to fire 
 upon the besiegers, many of the holy brothers and sisters were 
 slain before the ladders could be fastened on the wall. This, how- 
 ever, being at length effected, the pirates ascended in vast numbers, 
 carrying in their hands fire-balls and earthern pots full of powder, 
 which they kindled at the top of the walls, and threw among the 
 Spaniards. 
 
 Unable any longer to defend the castle, they threw down their 
 arms and surrendered. But the brave governor would not submit, 
 and not only slew many of the invaders, but even some of his own 
 men, because they would not continue to repulse the enemy. Un- 
 able to take him prisoner, they were constrained to put him to 
 death, for, notwithstanding the lamentation and entreaties of his 
 wife and daughter, he remained inflexible, declaring " that he 
 would rather die as a valiant soldier, than be hanged as a coward." 
 Having taken the castle, they placed all the wounded by themselves, 
 leaving them to perish of their wounds, and the men and women 
 in separate apartments, with a strong guard upon them, and gave 
 themselves up to all manner of debauchery and riotous excess. 
 They next proceeded to torture the prisoners, to constrain them 
 to inform them where they had deposited their money or their 
 goods. 
 
 Meanwhile, intelligence of their disasters, and of the taking of 
 the city, was conveyed to the president of Panama, who immedi- 
 ately endeavoured to raise such a force as might expel the pirate*. 
 The unhealthiness of the climate, their own debaucheries, and the 
 
SIR HEN 11 Y MORGAN 297 
 
 sword, having greatly lessened the number of his men, Caotain 
 Morgan gave orders to carry on board all their spoils, and to ^re- 
 pare to sail to another port. While these preparations were ad- 
 vancing, Captain Morgan requested the inhabitants to pay one 
 hundred thousand pieces of eight as the ransom of their city, or 
 he would reduce it to ashes. 
 
 In this unhappy dilemma, two messengers were despatched to 
 the president of Panama to inform him of their misfortunes, and 
 to solicit his assistance. Having an army collected, he marched 
 towards Puerta Vela; but Morgan stationing a hundred of his men 
 in a narrow pass, through which it was necessary he should come, 
 the Spaniards were instantly put to flight, and the president re- 
 turned home with the remainder of his forces. Thus abandoned 
 to their cruel fate, the wretched inhabitants collected the sum de- 
 manded; and Captain Morgan having victualled his fleet, and 
 taken several of the best guns from the castle, sailed for the island 
 of Cuba to divide his spoils. These he found to amount to two 
 hundred and fifty thousand pieces of eight, with a large quantity 
 of cloth, linen, silks, and other goods. With this immense wealth 
 the pirates sailed for Jamaica, and arriving there, gave loose to 
 their usual riot and excess. 
 
 After having lavished the wealth which they had acquired, Mor- 
 gan gave orders to his fleet to rendezvous at Cow Island. Rendered 
 famous by his recent adventure, many other pirates joined him, 
 and he soon saw himself at the head of a more powerful fleet than 
 he had ever commanded. The French, however, that joined him, 
 distrustful of his fidelity to them, abandoned his flag, and went to 
 pursue their own measures. Leaving that place, Captain Morgan 
 set sail for the island of Savona, with a fleet of fifteen ships, and 
 a full complement of men. He proceeded on his voyage until he 
 arrived at the port of Ocoa. Here he landed some of his men, and 
 sent them into the woods to seek water and fresh provisions. They 
 returned with several beasts which they had slain ; but the Spani- 
 ards, dissatisfied with their conduct, laid a snare to entrap them 
 in their second attempt to hunt in their territories. 
 
 They ordered three or four hundred men from Santo Domingo 
 to hunt in all the adjacent woods, and emptied them of animals. 
 The pirates returning in a few days to the hunting, could find 
 none, which induced them to venture farther into the woods. 
 Watching all their motions, the Spaniards collected a herd of cows, 
 and committed the care of them to two or three men. The pirate* 
 slew several of them ; but the moment they were about to carry 
 
298 ENULISH PIRATES. 
 
 them off, the Spaniards fell upon them with desperate fury, and 
 constrained them to retreat to their ships; but, during their retreat, 
 they frequently fired upon their pursuers, so that they lied in their 
 turn, and were pursued into the woods, and many of them slain. 
 Enraged at this attack upon his men, Captain Morgan next day 
 landed two hundred men, and ranged the woods; but finding no 
 enemy, he set fire to the scattered cottages of the peasants, and 
 so returned to his ships. ^» 
 
 Having waited with no small degree of impatience, for some of 
 his ships that had not arrived, he sailed for the Isle of Savona. 
 Arrived at this place, he was still disappointed in not seeing the 
 remainder of his fleet join him; and while with great impatience 
 waiting for them, he sent some of his men to fetch provisions. 
 The Spaniards, however, were now so vigilant, and so well pre- 
 pared to defend themselves and their property, that they were con- 
 strained to return empty-handed. 
 
 Despairing of the arrival of his other ships, Captain Morgan 
 made a review of those who were present, and found them to amount 
 to five hundred men, provided with eight ships. With this small 
 number he was unable to pursue his original plan, and, by advice 
 of a Frenchman who had been at the taking of Maracaibo, he re- 
 solved to sack that place a second time. After watering at the 
 Island of Ruba, they arrived at the sea of Maracaibo, and, after 
 some hot actions, in taking possession of the forts at the entrance, 
 arrived at the city in small boats and canoes. The inhabitants 
 deserted the city at their approach; and, after having taken what 
 property they could find, and exercising unheard-of cruelties and 
 tortures upon the prisoners they found in the neighbourhood, Cap- 
 tain Morgan resolved to sail for Gibraltar, and run the hazard of a 
 battle. Some of the principal prisoners he took with him, and 
 sent others to Gibraltar, to tell the inhabitants of the barbarous 
 cruelty they had seen exercised towards their townsmen, and to 
 assure them that, unless they surrendered to Morgan, they would 
 share the same fate. Notwithstanding a show of resistance at first, 
 every person in the city, with the exception of an idiot, lied when 
 the pirates approached, taking with them their riches and gun- 
 powder, and destroying the guns of the fortress. 
 
 This solitary individual who had remained in the city, notwith- 
 standing it was evident to Morgan and his associates that he was 
 an idiot, they tortured with unparralled cruelty, to force him to 
 discover to them the retreat of the inhabitants, of which he knew 
 nothing, yet he died under their ferocious hands. Detachments 
 

 SIR HENRY MORGAN. 298 
 
 were sent to scour the country round in search of the fugitives, 
 whom, when they found, they treated with the most barbarous 
 inhumanity. One of these detachments was headed by Morgan 
 himself, who directed his search against the governor, but the latter 
 retired to a high mountain, and completely foiled Morgan and his 
 army. The heavy rains and want of ammunition had reduced the 
 pirates to great distress; and if the Spaniards had not been so 
 dismayed, they would at this time have found their invaders an 
 easy prey. 
 
 Morgan returned to Gibraltar with a great many prisoners, who 
 negociated a ransom to save the city from being burnt. He then 
 proceeded to Maracaibo, where he was informed that a Spanish 
 iieet, consisting of several large vessels, lay at the entrance of the 
 strait to prevent his escape, which struck his men and himself with 
 great consternation. He assumed a fictitious courage, and sent a 
 letter to the admiral, demanding a very high ransom to prevent the 
 town of Maracaibo from being committed to the flames. This, how- 
 ever, met with no gracious reception, and the Spanish admiral 
 would listen to nothing but the surrender of all the prisoners, host- 
 ages, and property. In this dilemma, Morgan assembled his men, 
 and asked them whether they would give up what they had acquired 
 with such toil and danger, or fight their way through the enemy ? 
 To the latter proposition they unanimously agreed. 
 
 Despair sharpened their invention and their courage. They set 
 about immediately to prepare a fire-ship, with which they intended 
 to destroy the Spanish admiral's ship, and considerably strength- 
 ened their other vessels. Captain Morgau sailed with his fleet, and 
 attacked the enemy early in the morning; the fire-ship grappled 
 with the largest vessel, and soon destroyed her; the other two fled 
 towards the castle at the entrance, where one of them was sunk by 
 her own crew, and the other surrendered to the pirates. Elated 
 with this signal victory, the pirates immediately landed, hoping to 
 find the castle surrender at their appearance. In this they were, 
 however, disappointed, for they met with a most spirited resistance, 
 and were at last obliged to fly to their ships. 
 
 The Spanish admiral escaped on shore, and was greatly dismay- 
 ed to see so many of his brave countrymen perish in the waves 
 rather than permit themselves to be taken prisoners by the pirates. 
 
 Morgan again sailed for Maracaibo, where he repaired the large 
 ship he had taken, on board of which he hoisted his own flag. He 
 again sent to the Spanish admiral demanding a ransom for the city 
 of Maracaibo, to which that brave officer would not listen, but 
 
300 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 threatened vengeance on the pirates. The inhabitants, however, 
 offered the sum of 20,000 pieces of eight, besides 500 beeves to vic- 
 tual his fleet, if he would spare the town, and free the Spaniards 
 he had made prisoners. To this last clause, however, he would 
 not agree ; he feared the Spanish admiral might destroy his fleet 
 with the guns of the castle, in passing through the strait; and for 
 this purpose he wished to retain the prisoners, to hold out a bribe 
 to the admiral. He sent some of them to the castle, to infowaa the 
 governor that, unless they were permitted to pass the castle unmo- 
 lested, he would hang every prisoner in his power. The admiral 
 would not listen to the supplications of these unfortunate prisoners, 
 but accused them of cowardice, and returned for answer, that he 
 would oppose the passage of the pirates by every means in his 
 power. 
 
 This resolution made Morgan pause for a while, before he decid- 
 ed what was to be done. In the first place, he divided their plun- 
 der, which amounted to 250,000 pieces of eight, besides an immense 
 quantity of merchandize and slaves, Morgan harangued his men, 
 and took counsel what steps they were to follow, in order to get 
 clear of the castle. A stratagem was at length agreed upon, in 
 which they succeeded : during the day-time they sent on shore their 
 boats laden with men, as if they intended to attack the castle by 
 land. The canoes were hid from the castle for some time by the 
 trees on the banks, but in a short time returned, with the appear- 
 ance of only two or three men in them, to deceive the enemy, 
 while they were all lying in the bottom of the boats. The Spaniards 
 expected the forces that had been landed would attack the castle 
 at night ; they removed all their heavy guns to the laud side, and 
 left that which commanded the sea without any, by which the pirates 
 passed unmolested during the night. 
 
 When the Spaniards perceived that Morgan was about to escape, 
 they transported their guns to the other side of the castle, and com- 
 menced a dreadful fire upon the pirates; who, however, effected 
 their escape without much loss or damage. Captain Morgan now 
 sent a canoe to the castle, with some of the prisoners, and fired 
 seven great guns as a farewell salute. 
 
 In this voyage the pirates were suddenly overtaken by a great 
 tempest; were constrained to cast anchor, and again to put to sea; 
 and were alternately harrassed with the dread of being overwhelmed 
 in the deep, or cast upon shore and murdered by the Spaniards or 
 Indians. Fortunately, however, for Morgan and his crew, tfc* 
 tempest was calmed, and they arrived safe at Jamaica. 
 
i 
 
 SIR HENRY MORGAN. 301 
 
 Not long after their arrival here, their excesses emptied their 
 coffers, and constrained them to seek for new spoils. Having col- 
 lected his men at Port Caullion, he held a council to deliberate 
 upon their next adventure. Meanwhile, it was found necessary to 
 send four ships and one boat, with four hundred men, to the conti- 
 nent, to pillage some coast town for provisions, and to search the 
 woods for wild beasts. These vessels were for some days becalmed 
 in the mouth of the river Cow, which informed the Spaniards of 
 their arrival, and gave them time to hide their money and goods, 
 and to prepare for their own defence. Here they seized a ship 
 richly laden, and landed in defiance of all the resistance of the 
 Spaniards, whom they pursued into the woods, and, by torture, 
 constrained many of them to deliver up their money and property. 
 Dissatisfied with all that they had received, they, upon their de- 
 parture, exacted a ransom of four thousand bushels of maize as a 
 ransom for the town. 
 
 The return of these ships, and their great success, was cause of 
 exultation to Morgan and his men. Having equally divided the 
 maize and the flesh, they directed their course towards Cape Tibu- 
 "oon; the fleet consisting of thirty-seven sail, with two thou- 
 sand men, besides marines and boys. The captain divided his 
 fleet into two squadrons, and gave the command of the second squad- 
 ron to a vice-admiral. He then summoned a council of all his cap- 
 tains, and, besides other directions, enjoined them to carry on hos- 
 tilities with the Spaniards, as the enemies of the English nation. 
 
 From Cape Tiburoon, Morgan sailed for St. Catherine's, then 
 in the possession of the Spaniards, landed a thousand men, and 
 advanced to the governor's residence; but he found that the gar- 
 rison had retired to the adjacent small island, and had fortified 
 themselves in the strongest manner. Upon their approach, they 
 received such a warm reception, that they were under the necessity 
 of lying all night upon the ground, destitute of every kind of pro- 
 visions ; but a flag of truce being hoisted, a capitulation took place, 
 and it was finally agreed to surrender the island to Morgan and his 
 crew. Having become masters of the island, they hastened to sati- 
 ate their hungry appetites, and to indulge in all manner of riot and 
 excess. After some time, they pillaged the storehouses of powder 
 and other stores, carried on board the principal guns, destroyed 
 the remainder, and directed their attack upon the ca» r e of Chagre. 
 
 This castle is situated at the entrance of the river upon a high 
 mountain, and surrounded with wooden palisades. On the land 
 sides it has four bastions, and is whollv inaccessible by sea. Vn* 
 
W2 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 intimidated by these obstacles, the pirates made an attack, but 
 were repulsed with some loss. In the action one of the pirates was 
 wounded with an arrow, which he instantly pulled out, wrapped it 
 with cotton, and discharged it from his musket. The arrow fell 
 upon a house thatched with palm-leaves, and the cotton being 
 kindled by the powder set the house on fire, which communicated 
 to a large quantity of powder, that blew up and caused a dreadful 
 consternation. While the Spaniards were labouring to extinguish 
 the flames, the pirates set fire to the palisades ; and in a short time 
 entered the place. The governor was slain, and the greater part 
 of his men chose rather to leap into the sea, than await the tortures 
 of the inhuman pirates. 
 
 Upon the intelligence of this fortunate adventure, Morgan left 
 St. Catherine's, and hastened to that place, where he was received 
 with every demonstration of joy. Having garrisoned the place, 
 and seized all the vessels, he directed his course towards Panama, 
 at the head of twelve hundred men. But, too confident of the 
 smiles of fortune, he took a small stock of provisions with him. 
 In their march they suffered much from famine, but in the space of 
 nine days he beheld Panama. 
 
 On the morning of the tenth day, Captain Morgan arranged his 
 men, but, by the advice of one of his guides, did not take the 
 direct road to the city, and therefore escaped some of the ambus- 
 cades that were laid for him. The governor of Panama came out 
 to meet with two squadrons, four regiments, and a number of wild 
 bulls driven by the Indians. Upon the approach of the Spaniards, 
 their number and hostile appearance almost intimidated the unequal 
 numbers of the pirates, but, despairing of all mercy from the hands 
 of those whom they had so often offended, they resolved to give 
 them battle. They were first attacked by a party of horse, but 
 routing them, the foot soon followed their example, and victory 
 declared upon the side of the pirates. The greater part were either 
 slain or taken prisoners. A Spanish captain was also taken pri- 
 soner, who informed Morgan concerning the strength and position 
 of the town, which inclined him to attack it in another direction. 
 
 Morgan and his men were bravely repulsed, and suffered much 
 from the great guns placed at all points; but in defiance of every 
 opposition and danger, the pirates in three hours carried the town. 
 Thus victorious, they slew all who came in their way, and seized 
 upon the property of the place. To prevent his men from intoxica- 
 tion, that the Spaniards might not have an opportunity to fall upon 
 them, Morgan assembled his men, aud prohibited them from test- 
 
CAPTAIN AVERY. 30S 
 
 ing the wine, assigning as his reason, that the Spaniards baa 
 mingled it with poison. 
 
 The captain gave secret orders to set fire to the city in different 
 places. His own men being dissatisfied with this measure, he en- 
 deavoured to throw the odium upon the Spaniards themselves. 
 After doing incredible harm, the pirates retired from the town and 
 encamped in the fields. They, however, upon finding themselves 
 safe from a second attack, returned to the city, and conveyed away 
 a large quantity of plate and other valuable articles which the fire 
 had not consumed. 
 
 While Morgan continued at Panama, he sent out parties in all 
 directions, who so pillaged the country, that he departed from that 
 place loaded with immense plunder, both in money and in goods. 
 About half way to Chagre they were all searched, beginning with 
 the captain himselfj to find whether they had concealed any part 
 of the booty. Several of the company, however, boldly accused 
 the captain of concealing some of the more valuable jewels, as it 
 was impossible that no more than 200 pieces of eight should fall to 
 the share of each man from such an immense spoil. 
 
 The captain, finding his authority lessened, endeavoured to es- 
 cape to St. Catherine's with two or three ships, but the arrival of 
 a new governor in Jamaica, put a period to the depredations of 
 Morgan and many of his associates. 
 
 CAPTAIN AVERY 
 
 Was a native of Devonshire, and at an early period sent to sea; 
 advanced to the station of a mate in a merchantman, he performed 
 several voyages. It happened, previous to the peace of Ryswick, 
 when there existed an alliance between Spain, England, Holland, 
 and other powers, against France, that the French in Martinique 
 carried on a smuggling trade with the Spaniards on the continent 
 of Peru. To prevent their intrusion into the Spanish dominions, 
 a few vessels were commanded to cruise upon that coast, but the 
 French ships were too strong for them; the Spaniards, therefore, 
 came to the resolution of hiring foreigners to act against them. 
 Accordingly, certain merchants of Bristol fitted out two ships of 
 birty guns, well manned, and provided with every necessary 
 
ZOi ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 ammunition, and commanded them to sail for Corunna to receive 
 their orders. 
 
 Captain Gibson commanded one of these ships, and Avery ap 
 pears to have been his mate, in the year 1715. He was a fellow 
 of more cunning than courage, and insinuating himself into the 
 confidence of some of the boldest men in the ship, he represented 
 the immense riches which were to be acquired upon the Spanish 
 coast, and proposed to run off with the ship. The proposal was 
 scarcely made when it was agreed upon, and put in execution at 
 ten o'clock the following evening. Captain Gibson was one of 
 those who mightily love their bottle, and spent much of his time 
 on shore; but he remained on board that night, which did not, 
 however, frustrate their design, because he had taken his usual dose, 
 and so went to bed. The men who were not in the confederacy went 
 also to bed, leaving none upon deck but the conspirators. At the 
 time agreed upon, the long-boat of the other ship, came, and Avery 
 hailing her in the usual manner, he was answered by the men in 
 her, " Is your drunken boatswain on board ?" which was the 
 watchword agreed between them. Avery replying in the affirma- 
 tive, the boat came alongside with sixteen stout fellows, who joined 
 in the adventure. They next secured the hatches, then softly 
 weighed anchor, and immediately put to sea without bustle or noise. 
 There were several vessels in the bay, besides a Dutchman of forty 
 guns, the captain of which was offered a considerable reward to 
 go in pursuit of Avery, but he declined. When the captain awoke, 
 he rang his bell, and Avery and another conspirator going into 
 the cabin, found him yet half asleep. He inquired, saying, " What 
 is the matter with the ship ? does she drive ? what weather is it?" 
 supposing it had been a storm, and that the ship was driven from 
 her anchors. " No, no," answered Avery, " we're at sea, with a 
 fair wind and good weather." " At sea !" said the captain : " how 
 can that be?" " Come," answered Avery, " don't be in a fright, 
 but put on your clothes, and I'll let you into a secret. You must 
 know that I am captain of this ship now, and this is my cabin, 
 therefore you must walk out! I am bound to Madagascar, with a 
 design of making my own fortune, and that of all the brave fellows 
 joined with me." 
 
 The captain, having a little recovered his senses, began to un- 
 derstand his meaning. However, his fright was as great as befoie, 
 which Avery perceiving, desired him to fear nothing; "for," said 
 he, " if you have a mind to make one of us, we will receive you; 
 %od if you turn sober, and attend to business, perhaps in time i 
 
Page 303. 
 
CAPTAIN AVERY. 305 
 
 may make jou one of my lieutenants; if not, here's a boat, and 
 you shall be set on shore." Gibson accepted of the last proposal; 
 and the whole crew being called up to know who was willing to go 
 on shore with the captain, there were only about five or six who 
 chose to accompany him. 
 
 Avery proceeded on his voyage to Madagascar, and it does not 
 appear that he captured any vessels upon his way. When arrived 
 at the north-east part of that island, he found two sloops at anchor, 
 which, upon seeing him, slipped their cables, and ran themselves 
 ashore, while the men all landed, and concealed themselves in the 
 woods. These were two sloops which the men had run off with 
 from the East Indies, and seeing Avery's ship, supposed that he 
 had been sent out after them. Suspecting who they were, he sent 
 some of his men on shore to inform them that they were friends, 
 and to propose a union for their common safety. The sloops' men 
 being well armed, had posted themselves in a wood, and placed 
 sentinels to observe whether the ship landed its men to pursue 
 them. The sentinels only observing two or three men coming 
 towards them unarmed, did not oppose them. Upon being informed 
 that they were friends, the sentinels conveyed them to the main 
 body, where they delivered their message. They were at first afraid 
 that it was a stratagem to entrap them, but when the messengers 
 assured them that their captain had also run away with his ship, 
 and that a few of their men along with him would meet them un- 
 armed, to consult matters for their common advantage, confidence 
 was established, and they were mutually well pleased, as it added 
 to their strength. 
 
 Having consulted what was most proper to be attempted, they 
 endeavoured to get off the sloops, and hastened to prepare all 
 things, in order to sail for the Arabian coast. Near the river In- 
 dus, the man at the mast-head espied a sail, upon which they 
 gave chase ; as they came nearer to her, they discovered that she 
 was a tall vessel, and might turn out to be an East Indiaman. 
 She, however, proved a better prize ; for when they fired at her 
 she hoisted Mogul colours, and seemed to stand upon her defence. 
 Avery only cnanonaded at a distance, when some of his men betran 
 to suspect that he was not the hero they had supposed. The 
 sloops, however, attacked the one on the bow, and another upon 
 the quarter of the ship, and so boarded her. She then struck her 
 colours. She was one of the Great Mogul's own ships, and there 
 were in her several of the greatest persons in his court, among 
 whom, it was said, was one of his daughters going upon a pilgri- 
 X 
 
30« ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 mage to Mecca; ana they were carrying with them rich offerings 
 to present at the shrine of Mahomet. It is a well known fact, 
 that the people of the east travel with great magnificence, so that 
 these had along with them all their slaves and attendants, with a 
 large quantity of vessels of gold and silver, and immense sums of 
 money to defray their expenses by land; the spoil therefore which 
 they received from that ship was almost incalculable. 
 
 Taking the treasure on board their own ships, and plundering 
 their prize of every thing valuable, they then allowed her to depart. 
 As soon as the Mogul received this intelligence, he threateneu 
 to send a mighty army to extirpate the English from all their set- 
 tlements upon the Indian coast. The East India Company were 
 greatly alarmed, but found means to calm his resentment, by pro- 
 mising to search for the robbers, and deliver them into his hands. 
 The noise which this made over Europe, gave birth to the rumours 
 that were circulated concerning Avery's greatness. 
 
 In the mean time, our adventurers made the best of their way 
 back to Madagascar, intending to make that place the deposit for 
 all their treasure, to build a small fort, and to keep always a few 
 men there for its protection. Avery, however, disconcerted this 
 plan, and rendered it altogether unnecessary. 
 
 While steering their course, Avery sent a boat to each of the 
 sloops, requesting that the chiefs would come on board his ship to 
 hold a conference. They obeyed, and being assembled, he sug- 
 gested to them the necessity of securing the property which they 
 had acquired in some safe place on shore, and observed, that the 
 chief difHculty was to get it safe on shore; adding that, if either 
 of the sloops should be attacked alone, they would not be able to 
 make any great resistance, and thus she must either be sunk or 
 taken with all the property on board. That, for his part, his ship 
 was so strong, so well manned, and such swift-sailing vessel, that 
 he did not think it was possible for any other ship to take or over- 
 come her. Accordingly, he proposed that all their treasure should 
 be sealed up in three chests; — that each of the captains should have 
 keys, and that they should not be opened until all were present; — 
 that the chests should be then put on board his ship, and afterwards 
 lodged in some safe place upon land. 
 
 This proposal seemed so reasonable, and so much for the common 
 good, that it was without hesitation agreed to, and all the treasure 
 deposited in three chests, and carried to Avery's ship. The wea- 
 ther being favourable, they remained all three in company during 
 that and the next day; meanwhile Avery, tampering with his men, 
 
CAPTAIN AVERY. SO? 
 
 suggested, that they had now on board what was sufficient to make 
 them all happy; " and what," added he, " should hinder us from 
 going to some country where we are not known, and living on 
 shore all the rest of our days in plenty?" They soon understood 
 his hint, and all readily consented to deceive the men of the sloops, 
 and fly with all the booty ; this they effected during the darkness of 
 the following night. The reader may easily conjecture what were 
 the feelings and indignation of the other two crews in the morning, 
 when they discovered that Avery had made off with all their pro- 
 perty. 
 
 Avery and his men hastened towards America, and being stran- 
 gers in that country, agreed to divide the booty, to change their 
 names, and each separately to take up his residence, and live in 
 affluence and honour. The first land they approached was the 
 Island of Providence, then newly settled. It however occurred to 
 them, that the largeness of their vessel, and the report that one 
 had been run off with from the Groine, might create suspicion ; 
 they resolved therefore to dispose of their vessel at Providence. 
 Upon this resolution, Avery, pretending that his vessel had been 
 equipped for privateering, and having been unsuccessful, he had 
 orders from the owners to dispose of her to the best advantage, soon 
 found a merchant. Having thus sold his own ship, he immediately 
 purchased a small sloop. 
 
 In this he and his companions embarked, and landed at several 
 places in America, where, none suspecting them, they dispersed 
 and settled in the country. Avery, however, had concealed 
 the greater part of the jewels and other valuable articles, so that 
 his riches were immense. Arriving at Boston, he was almost re- 
 solved to settle there, but, as the greater part of his wealth consisted 
 of diamonds, he was apprehensive that he could not dispose of them 
 at that place, without being taken up as a pirate. Upon reflection, 
 therefore, he resolved to sail for Ireland, and in a short time arrived 
 1U the northern part of that kingdom, and his men dispersed into 
 several places. Some of them obtained the pardon of King Wil- 
 liam, and settled in that country. 
 
 The wealth of Avery, however, now proved of small service, 
 and occasioned him great uneasiness. He could not offer his dia- 
 monds for sale in that country without being suspected. Consider- 
 ing, therefore, what was best to be done, he thought there might 
 be some person at Bristol he could venture to trust. Upon this he 
 resolved, and going into Devonshire, sent to one of his friends to 
 meet him at a town called Bideford. When he had unbosomed 
 
808 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 himself to him and other pretended friends, they agreed that 
 the safest plan would be to put his effects into the hands of some 
 wealthy merchants, and no enquiry would be made how they came 
 by them. One of these friends told him, he was acquainted with 
 some who were very fit for the purpose, and if he would allow them 
 a handsome commission, they would do the business faithfully. 
 Avery liked the proposal, particularly as he could think of ni> 
 other way of managing this matter, since he could not appear to 
 act for himself. Accordingly, the merchants paid Avery a visit 
 at Bideford, where, after strong protestations of honour and in- 
 tegrity, he delivered them his effects, consisting of diamonds and 
 some vessels of gold. After giving him a little money for his pre- 
 sent subsistence, they departed. 
 
 He changed his name, and lived quietly at Bideford, so that no 
 notice was taken of him. In a short time his money was all spent, 
 and he heard nothing from his merchants, though he wrote to them 
 repeatedly; at last they sent him a small supply, but it was not 
 sufficient to pay his debts. In short, the remittances they sent 
 him were so trifling, that he could with difficulty exist. He there- 
 fore determined to go privately to Bristol, and have an interview 
 with the merchants himself, — where, instead of money, he met 
 with a mortifying repulse; for, when he desired them to come to 
 an account with him, they silenced him by threatening to disclose 
 his character; the merchants thus proving themselves as go*d 
 pirates on land as he was at sea. 
 
 Whether he was frightened by these menaces, or had seen some 
 other person who recognised him, is not known; however he went 
 immediately to Ireland, and from thence solicited his merchants 
 very strongly for a supply, but to no purpose ; so that he was reduc- 
 ed to beggary. In this extremity he was determined to return, and 
 cast himself upon the mercy of these honest Bristol merchants, let 
 the consequence be what it would. He went on board a trading- 
 vessel, and worked his passage over to Plymouth, from whence he 
 travelled on foot to Bideford. He had been there but a few days, 
 when he fell sick and died; not being worth so much as would buy 
 h n a coffin. 
 
 We shall now turn back and give our readers some account of 
 the other two sloops. Deceiving themselves in the supposition that 
 Avery had outsailed them during the night, they held on their 
 course to the place of rendezvous; but, arriving there, to their sad 
 disappointment no ship appeared. It was now necessary for them 
 to consult what was most proper to do in their desperate circum* 
 
CAPTAIN AVERY. 309 
 
 stances. Their provisions were nearly exhausted, and both fish 
 and fowl were to be found on shore, yet they were destitute of salt 
 to cure them As they could not subsist at sea without salt provi- 
 sions, they resolved to form an establishment upon land. Accord- 
 ingly, making tents of the sails, and using the other materials of 
 the sloops for what purposes they could serve, they encamped upon 
 the shore. It was also a fortunate circumstance, that they had 
 plenty of ammunition and small arms. Here they met with some 
 of their countrymen ; and as the digression is short, we will inform 
 our readers how they came to inhabit this place. 
 
 Captain George Dew, and Thomas Tew, had received a commis- 
 sion from the governor of Bermuda to sail for the river Gambia, in 
 Africa, that with the assistance of the Royal African Company, 
 they might seize the French Factory situated upon that coast. Dew 
 in a violent storm, not only sprang a mast, but lost sight of his 
 companion. Upon this he returned to refit. Instead of proceeding 
 in his voyage, Tew made towards the Cape of Good Hope, doubled 
 that cape, and sailed for the straits of Babel-Mandel. There he 
 met with a large ship richly laden coming from the Indies, and 
 bound for Arabia. Though she had on board three hundred sol- 
 diers, besides seamen, yet Tew had the courage to attack her, and 
 soon made her his prize. It is reported, that by this one prize every 
 man shared near three thousand pounds. Informed by the prisoners 
 that five other ships were to pass that way, Tew would have attack- 
 ed them, but was prevented by the remonstrances of his quarter- 
 master and others. This difference of opinion terminated in a 
 resolution to abandon the sea, and to settle on some convenient 
 spot on shore ; and the island of Madagascar was chosen. Tew, 
 however, and a few others, in a short time went for Rhode Island, 
 and obtained a pardon. 
 
 The natives of Madagascar are negroes, but differ from those of 
 Guinea in the length of their hair and in the blackness of their 
 complexion. They are divided into small nations, each governed 
 by its own prince, who carry on a continual war upon each other. 
 The prisoners taken in war are either rendered slaves to the con- 
 querors, sold, or slain, according to pleasure. When the pirates 
 first settled among them, their alliance was much courted by these 
 princes, and those whom they joined were always successful in 
 their wars, the natives being ignorant of the use of fire-arms. Such 
 terror did they carry along with them, that the very appearance 
 of a few pirates in an army would have put the opposing force to 
 flight. 
 
310 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 By these means they in a little time became very formidable, and 
 the prisoners whom they took in war they employed in cultivating 
 the ground, and the most beautiful of the women they married; 
 nor were they contented with one, but married as many as they 
 could conveniently maintain. The natural result was, that they 
 separated, each choosing a convenient place for himself, where he 
 lived in a princely style, surrounded by his wives, slaves, and de- 
 pendants. Nor was it long before jarring interests excited the*© 
 also to draw the sword against each other, and they appeared at the 
 head of their respective forces in the field of battle. In these civil 
 wars their number and strength were greatly lessened. 
 
 The servant, exalted to the condition of a master, generally be- 
 comes a tyrant. The pirates, unexpectedly elevated to the dignity 
 of petty princes, used their power with the most wanton barbarity. 
 The punishment of the very least offence was to be tied to a tree, 
 and instantly shot through the head. The negroes, at length, ex- 
 asperated by continued oppression, formed the determination of 
 extirpating them in one night; nor was it a difficult matter to ac- 
 complish this, since they were now so much divided both in auc- 
 tion and residence. Fortunately, however, for them, a negro 
 woman, who was partial to them, ran twenty miles in three hours, 
 and warning them of their danger, they were united and in arms 
 to oppose the negroes before the latter had assembled. This narrow 
 escape made them more cautious, and induced them to adopt the 
 following system of policy : — 
 
 Convinced that fear was not a sufficient protection, and that the 
 bravest man might be murdered by a coward in his bed, they la- 
 boured to foment wars among the negro princes, while they them- 
 selves declined to aid either party. It naturally followed, that 
 those who were vanquished fled to them for protection, and increased 
 their strengtn. Where there was no war, they fomented private 
 discords, and encouraged them to wreak their vengeance against 
 each other; nay, even taught them how to surprise their opponents, 
 and furnisned them with fire-arms, with which to dispatch them 
 more effectually and expeditiously. The consequences were, that 
 the murderer was constrained to fly to them for protection, with his 
 wives, children, and kindred. These, from interest, became true 
 friends, as their own safety depended upon the lives of the pro- 
 tectors. By this time the pirates were so formidable, that none of 
 Lhe negro princes durst attack them in open war. 
 
 Pursuing this system of policy, in a short time each chief had 
 his party greatly increased, and they divided like so many tribes, 
 
CAPTAIN AVERY. 2H 
 
 in order to find ground to cultivate, and to choose proper places 
 to build places of residence and erect garrisons of defence. The 
 rears that agitated them were always obvious in their general poli- 
 cy for they vied with each other in constructing places of safety, 
 and using every precaution to prevent the possibility of sudden 
 danger, either from the negroes or from one another. 
 
 A description of one of these dwellings will both show the fears 
 that agitated these tyrants, and prove entertaining to the reader. 
 They selected a spot overgrown with wood, near a river, and rais- 
 ed a rampart with a ditch round it, so straight and steep that it was 
 impossible to climb it/ more particularly by those who had no 
 scaling-ladders. Over that ditch there was one passage into the 
 wood; the dwelling, which was a hut, was built in that part of the 
 wood which the prince thought most secure, but so covered that it 
 could not be discovered until you came near it. But the greatest 
 ingenuity was displayed in the construction of the passage that led 
 to the hut, which was so narrow, that no more than one person 
 could go abreast, and it was so contrived in so intricate a manner, 
 that it was a perfect labyrinth ; the way going round and round, 
 with several small cross-ways, so that a person unacquainted with 
 it, might walk several hours without finding the hut. Along the 
 sides of these paths, certain large thorns, which grew on a tree in 
 that country, were stuck into the ground with their points outwards ; 
 and the path itself being serpentine, as before mentioned, if a 
 man should attempt to approach the hut at night, he would cer- 
 tainly have struck upon these thorns. 
 
 Thus like tyrants they lived, dreading, and dreaded by all, and 
 in this state they were found by Captain Woods Rodgers, when he 
 went to Madagascar in the Delicia, a ship of forty guns, with the 
 design of purchasing slaves. He touched upon a part of the island 
 at which no ship had been seen for seven or eight years before, 
 where he met with some pirates who had been upon the island 
 above twenty-five years. There were only eleven of the original 
 stock then alive, surrounded with a numerous offspring of children 
 and grandchildren. 
 
 They were struck with terror upon the sight of the vessel, sup- 
 posing that it was a man-of-war sent out to apprehend them; they, 
 therefore, retired to their secret habitations. But when they found 
 some of the ship's crew on shore, without any signs of hostility, 
 and proposing to treat with them for their slaves, they ventured to 
 come out of their dwellings attended like princes. Having been 
 80 tongupon the island, their cloaks were so much worn, that their 
 
312 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 majesties were extremely out at elbows. It cannot be said that they 
 were ragged, but they had nothing to cover them but the skins of 
 brasts in their natural state, not even a shoe or stocking ; so that 
 they resembled the pictures of Hercules in the lion's skin; and 
 being overgrown with beard, and hair upon their bodies, they ap- 
 peared the most savage figures that the human imagination could 
 well conceive. 
 
 The sale of the slaves in their possession soon provided them 
 with more suitable clothes, and all other necessaries, which they 
 received in exchange. Meanwhile, they became very familiar, 
 went frequently on board, and were very eager in examining the 
 inside of the ship, talking very familiarly with the men, and invit- 
 ing them on shore. Their design was to surprise the ship during 
 the night. They had a sufficient number of men and boats to 
 effect their purpose, but the captain suspecting them, kept so 
 strong a watch on deck, that they found it in vain to hazard an 
 attempt. When some of the men went on shore, they entered into 
 a plan to seize the ship, but the captain observing their familiarity, 
 prevented any one of his men from speaking to the pirates, and 
 only permitted a confidential person to purchase their slaves. Thus 
 he departed from the island, leaving these pirates to enjoy their 
 savage royalty. One of them had been a waterman upon the 
 Thames, and having committed a murder, he fled to the West In- 
 dies. The rest having been all foremast-men, nor was there one 
 among them who could either read or write- 
 
 CAPTAIN MARTEL. 
 
 War is not the harvest season of pirates. Those who are natu- 
 rally of a rambling turn of mind, then find employment in priva- 
 teering. Provincial mobs are most frequent in time of peace; 
 and those turbulent spirits which give energy to tumult, prove 
 brave and useful soldiers when disciplined and introduced into the 
 ranks. In the same manner, pirates under the influence of royal 
 clemency, would prove brave «nd hardy seamen. 
 
 The origin and first adventures of the man upon whose history 
 we are now to enter, are involved in obscurity. He was com- 
 mander ot a private sloop of eight guns and eighty men, upon the 
 coast of Jamaica, where he took + he Berkeley gnlley, Captain 
 
Page 314. 
 

 CAPTAIN MARTEL. 31 * 
 
 Sanders, and plundered him of a thousand pounds ; and afterwards 
 he took some money and provisions from a sloop called King Solo, 
 mon. He proceeded after this to the port of Cavena in the island 
 of Cuba, and in his way captured two sloops, which he plundered 
 and then dismissed. Near the port, he met a fine galley of twenty 
 guns, commanded by Captain Wilson, which was attacked under 
 the black flag, and forced to surrender. Some of the men were 
 put on shore, and others detained. Captain Martel then desired 
 Captain Wilson to inform the owners, that his sloop would admi- 
 rably answer his purpose, by removing one deck: and as for the 
 cargo, which consisted chiefly of logwood and sugar, he would take 
 care it should be carried to a good market. 
 
 This ship being equipped, he mounted her with twenty-two guns 
 and a hundred men, leaving twenty-five hands in the sloop, and 
 vent to cruise off the Leeward Islands. Here fortune was propi- 
 tious to the pirates. After taking two small vessels, they gave 
 chase to a stout ship, which, upon the sight of the black flag, sud- 
 denly struck. This was the Dolphin of twenty guns, bound for 
 Newfoundland. The men were made prisoners, and the ship was 
 taken along with our pirates. They seized another vessel on her 
 voyage from Jamaica, put her provisions on board their own ship, 
 and so let her depart. Thus she was obliged to return to Jamaica 
 before she could prosecute her voyage. These fortunate pirates, 
 not long after, captured a small ship and a sloop belonging to 
 Barbadoes, and having taken out the provisions, and such of the 
 men as chose to go along with them, allowed them to depart. Their 
 next prize was the Greyhound galley of London, from Guinea to 
 Jamaica, which they speedily emptied of her valuable cargo, and 
 then permitted to prosecute her voyage. 
 
 It was necessary to repair to some harbour, to refit, to obtain 
 provisions, and to dispose of their cargo. Santa Cruz was deemed 
 the most proper place for this purpose, which is ten miles long and 
 two broad, lying south-east by Porto Rico, and belonging to the 
 French settlements. Here they hoped to repose for a while in 
 order to prepare themselves for greater adventures. Nor did fortune 
 forsake these daring adventurers, for on their voyage they captured 
 another vessel, and speedily arrived at the place of their destina- 
 tion. They had now a ship of 20 guns, a sloop of eight, and three 
 prizes. This little fleet they stationed in a small harbour or road 
 upon the north-west of the island. 
 
 Their first employment on their arrival was to fortify themselves 
 against any attack. They erected a battery of four guns upon ths 
 
824 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 isianJ, and another of two guns upon the north point of the road. 
 They also stationed one of the sloops, with eight guns, at the mouth 
 of the channel, to prevent any vessel from entering. Having 
 thus fortified themselves, they began to unrig their vessels, in 
 order to clean them. 
 
 General Hamilton sent a sloop with an express to Captain Hume 
 to acquaint him that two pirate ships infested the coast. The Scar- 
 borough of 30 guns and 140 men, commanded by Captain Hume, 
 had then near 40 of his crew sick, and had buried 20, and was 
 therefore in a bad condition for sea; but having received this intel- 
 ligence, he left his sick men behind, sailed to the other islands for 
 a supply of hands, and went in search of the pirates. After several 
 disappointments, and about to return, despairing to meet with these 
 marauders,, he was informed by a boat which had come from Santa 
 Cruz, that two pirate ships, with some others, were in that place. 
 On Captain Hume's arrival there, the pilot refused to enter the 
 harbour. They were welcomed by the pirates saluting them with 
 red-hot balls from the shore. At length, Captain Hume came to 
 anchor alongside the reef, and cannonaded both the vessels and 
 batteries during several hours. The sloop which guarded the 
 channel was at length sunk, and the man-of-war then directed her 
 fire against the iarge pirate ships. In the following night it calm- 
 ed, and Captain Hume, fearing that he might fall upon the reef, 
 weighed anchor, and hovered in the neighbourhood for a few days 
 to block them up. One evening the pirates observed the man-of- 
 war set out for sea, and they took the opportunity to warp out in 
 order to evade the enemy. They soon ran aground, and in this 
 situation saw Captain Hume returning to pay them another visit, 
 which threw them into such dreadful consternation, that they quitt- 
 ed the ship, leaving in it twenty negroes, who all perished. Nino- 
 teen of the pirates escaped in a long-boat, while the captain and 
 the rest of the crew fled into the woods, and there, in all probability, 
 terminated their existence. 
 
 CAPTAIN TEACH, 
 
 OTHERWISE CALLED M BLACKBB&RD." 
 
 Edward TeACH was a native of Bristol, and hating gone to 
 Jamaica, frequently sailed from that port as one oi' the new of a 
 privateer auring the French war. In that station he gave frequent 
 
CAPTAIN TEACH. 315 
 
 proofs of his boldness and personal courage; but he was not en- 
 trusted with any command until Captain Benjamin Hornigold 
 gave him the command uf a prize which he had taken. 
 
 In the spring of 1717, Hornigold and Teach sailed from Provi- 
 dence for the continent of America, and in their way captured a 
 small vessel with 120 barrels of flour, which they put on board 
 their own vessels. They also seized two other vessels ; from one 
 they took some gallons of wine, and from the other, plunder to a 
 considerable value. After cleaning upon the coast of Virginia, 
 they made a prize of a large French Guineaman bound to Martin- 
 ique, and Teach obtaining the command of her, went upon a cruise. 
 Hornigold, with the two vessels, returned to the island of Provi- 
 dence, and surrendered to the king's clemency. 
 
 Teach now began to act an independent part. He mounted his 
 vessel with forty guns, and named her " The Queen Amies 
 Revenge." Cruising near the island of St. Vincent he took a large 
 ship, called the Great Allan, and. after having plundered her of 
 what he deemed proper, set her on fire. A few days after, Teach 
 encountered the Scarborough man-of-war, and engaged her for 
 some hours; but perceiving his strength and resolution, she retired, 
 and left Teach to pursue his depredations. His next adventure 
 was with a sloop of ten guns, commanded by Major Bonnet, whose 
 actions we have already related, and these two having united their 
 fortunes, co-operated for some time : but Teach finding him unac- 
 quainted with naval affairs, gave the command of Bonnet's ship 
 to Richards, one of his own crew, and entertained Bonnet on 
 board his own vessel. Watering at Turniff, they discovered a sail, 
 and Richards with the Revenge slipped her cable, and ran out to 
 meet her. Upon seeing the black flag hoisted, the vessel struck, 
 and came-to under the stern of Teach the commodore. This was 
 the Adventure from Jamaica. They took the captain and his men 
 on board the great ship, and manned his sloop for their own service. 
 
 Weighing from Turniff where they remained during a week, 
 and sailing to the bay, they found there a ship and four sloops. 
 Teach hoisted his flag, and began to fire at them, upon which 
 Teach the captain and his men left their ship and fled to the shore, 
 burned two of these sloops, and let the other three depart. 
 
 They afterwards sailed to different places, and having taken two 
 small vessels, anchored off the bar of Charlestown for a few days. 
 Here they captured a ship bound for England, as she was coming 
 out of the harbour. They next seized a vessel coming out of 
 Charlestown, and two pinks coming into the same harbour, together 
 
R16 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 with a brigantine with fourteen negroes. The audacity of these 
 transactions, performed in sight of the town, struck the inhabitants 
 with terror, as they had been lately visited by some other notorious 
 pirates. Meanwhile, there were eight sail in the harbour, none 
 of which durst set to sea for fear of falling into the hands of Teach. 
 The trade of this place was totally interrupted, and the inhabitants 
 were abandoned to despair. Their calamity was greatly augmented 
 from this circumstance, that a long and desperate war with.the 
 natives had just terminated, when they began to be infested by 
 these robbers. 
 
 Teach having detained all the persons taken in these ships as 
 prisoners, they were soon in great want of medicines, and he had 
 the audacity to demand a chest from the governor. This demand 
 was made in a manner not less daring than insolent. Teach sent 
 Richards, the captain of the Revenge, with Mr. Marks, one of 
 the prisoners, and several others, to present their request. Richards 
 informed the governor, that unless their demand was granted, and 
 he and his companions returned in safety, every prisoner on board 
 the captured ships should instantly be slain, and the vessels con- 
 sumed to ashes. 
 
 During the time that Mr. Marks was negotiating with the gover- 
 nor, Richards and his associates walked the streets at pleasure, 
 while indignation flamed from every eye against them, as the rob- 
 bers of their property, and the terror of their country. Though 
 the affront thus offered to the Government was great and most 
 audacious, yet, to preserve the lives of so many men, they granted 
 their request, and sent on board a chest valued at three or four 
 hundred pounds. 
 
 Teach, as soon as he received the medicines and his fellow pirates, 
 pillaged the ships of gold and provisions, and then dismissed the 
 prisoners with their vessels. From the bar of Charlestown they 
 sailed to North Carolina. Teach now began to reflect how he 
 could best secure the spoil, along with some of the crew who were 
 his favourites. Accordingly, under pretence of cleaning, he ran 
 his vessel on shore and grounded; then ordered the men in Hand's 
 sloop to come to his assistance, which they endeavouring to do, 
 also ran aground, and so they were both lost. Then Teach went 
 into the tender with forty hands, and upon a sandy island, about 
 a league from shore, where there was neither bird nor beast, nor 
 herb for their subsistence, he left seventeen of his crew, who must 
 have inevitably perished, had not Major Bonnet received intelli- 
 gence of their miserable situation and sent a long-boat for them. 
 
CAPTAIN TEACH. 317 
 
 After this barbarous deed, Teach, with the remainder of his crew, 
 went and surrendered to the governor of North Carolina, retaining 
 all the property which had been acquired by his fleet. 
 
 This temporary suspension of the depredations of Black Beard, 
 for so he was now called, did not proceed from a conviction of his 
 former errors, or a determination to reform, but to prepare for fu- 
 ture and more extensive exploits. As governors are but men, and 
 not unfrequently by no means possessed of the most virtuous prin- 
 ciples, the gold of Black Beard rendered him comely in the gover- 
 nor's eyes, and, by his influence, he obtained a legal right to the 
 great ship called " The Queen Anne's Revenge." By order of the 
 governor, a court of vice-admiralty was held at Bath-town, and 
 that vessel was condemned as a lawful prize which he had taken 
 from the Spaniards, though it was a well-known fact that she be- 
 longed to English merchants. Before he entered upon his new 
 adventures, he married a young woman of about sixteen years of 
 age, the governor himself attending the ceremony. It was reported 
 that this was only his fourteenth wife, about twelve of whom were 
 yet alive; and though this woman was young and amiable, he be- 
 haved towards her in a manner so brutal, that it was shocking to 
 all decency and propriety, even among his abandoned crew of 
 pirates. 
 
 In his first voyage, Black Beard directed his course to the Ber- 
 mudas, and meeting with two or three English vessels, emptied 
 them of their stores and other necessaries, and allowed them to 
 proceed. He also met with two French vessels bound for Martini- 
 que, the one light, and the other laden with sugar and cocoa : he 
 put the men on board the latter into the former, and allowed her to 
 depart. He brought the freighted vessel into North Carolina, where 
 the governor and Black Beard shared the prizes. Nor did their 
 audacity and villainy stop here. Teach and some of his abandoned 
 crew waited upon his excellency, and swore that they had seized the 
 French ship at sea, without a soul on board : therefore a court was 
 called, and she was condemned, the honourable governor received 
 sixty hogsheads of sugar for his share, his secretary twenty, and 
 the pirates the remainder. But as guilt always inspires suspicion, 
 Teach was afraid that some one might arrive in the harbour who 
 might detect the roguery : therefore, upon pretence that she was 
 leaky, and might sink, and so stop up the entrance to the harbour 
 where she lay, they obtained the governor's liberty to drag her into 
 the river, where she was set on fire, and when burnt down to the 
 
S18 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 water, her bottom was sunk, that so she might never rise in judg- 
 ment against the governor and his confederates. 
 
 Black Beard now being in the province of Friendship, passed 
 several months in the river, giving and receiving visits from the 
 planters ; while he traded with the vessels which came to that river, 
 sometimes in the way of lawful commerce, and sometimes in his 
 own way. When he chose to appear the honest man, he made^ir 
 purchases on equal barter ; but when this did not suit his necessities, 
 or his humour, he would rob at pleasure, and leave them to seek 
 their redress from the governor; and the better to cover his intri- 
 gues with his excellency, he would sometimes outbrave him to his 
 face, and administer to him a share of that contempt and insolence 
 which he so liberally bestowed upon the rest of the inhabitants of 
 the province. 
 
 But there are limits to human insolence and depravity. The cap- 
 tains of the vessels who frequented that river, and had been so often 
 harassed and plundered by Black Beard, secretly consulted with 
 some of the planters what measures to pursue, in order to banish 
 such an infamous miscreant from their coasts, and to bring him to 
 deserved punishment. Convinced from long experience, that the 
 governor himself, to whom it belonged, would give no redress, 
 they represented the matter to the Governor of Virginia, and en- 
 treated that an armed force might be sent from the men-of-war lying 
 there, either to take or to destroy those pirates who infested their 
 coast. 
 
 Upon this representation, the Governor of Virginia consulted 
 with the captains of the two men-of-war as to the best measures 
 to be adopted. It was resolved that the governor should hire two 
 small vessels, which could pursue Black Beard into all his inlets 
 and creeks; that they should be manned from the men-of-war, and 
 the command given to Lieutenant Maynard, an experienced and 
 resolute officer. When all was ready for his departure, the gov- 
 ernor called an assembly, in which it was resolved to issue a pro- 
 clamation, offering a great reward to any who, within a year, 
 should take or destroy any pirate. 
 
 Upon the 17th of November 1717, Maynard left James's river 
 in quest of Black Beard, and on the evening of the 21st came in 
 sight of the pirate. This expedition was fitted out with all possible 
 expedition and secrecy, no boat being permitted to pass that might 
 convey any intelligence, while care was taken to discover where 
 the pirates were lurking. His excellency the Governor of Ber- 
 muda, and his secretary, however, having obtained information cJ 
 
CAPTAIN TEACH. 319 
 
 the intended expedition, the latter wrote a letter to Black Beard, 
 intimating, that he had sent him four of his men, who were all he 
 could meet with in or about town, and so bad him be upon his 
 guard. These men were sent from Bath-town to the place where 
 Black Beard lay, about the distance of twenty leagues. 
 
 The hardened and infatuated pirate, having been often deceived 
 by false intelligence, was the less attentive to this information, 
 nor was he convinced of its accuracy until he saw the sloops sent 
 10 apprehend him. Though be had then only twenty men on board, 
 he prepared to give battle. Lieutenant Maynard arrived with his 
 sloops in the evening, and anchored, as he could not venture, 
 under cloud of night, to go into the place where Black Beard lay. 
 The latter spent the night in drinking with the master of a trading- 
 vessel, with the same indifference as if no danger had been near. 
 Nay, such was the desperate wickedness of this villain, that, it 
 is reported, during the carousals of that night, one of his men 
 asked him, " In case any thing should happen to him during the 
 engagement with the two sloops which were waiting to attack him 
 in the morning, whether his wife knew where he had buried his 
 money?" when he impiously replied, " That nobody but himself 
 and the devil knew where it was, and the longest liver should 
 take all." 
 
 In the morning Maynard weighed, and sent his boat to sound, 
 which coming near the pirate, received her fire. Maynard then 
 hoisted royal colours, and made directly towards Black Beard with 
 every sail and oar. In a little time the pirate ran aground, and so 
 also did the king's vessels. Maynard lightened his vessel of the 
 ballast and made towards Black Beard. Upon this he hailed him 
 in his own rude style, " D — n you for villains, who are you, and 
 from whence come you?" The lieutenant answered, " You may 
 see from our colours we are no pirates." Black Beard bade him 
 send his boat on board, that he might see who he was. But May- 
 nard replied, " I cannot spare my boat, but I will come on board 
 of you as soon as I can with my sloop." Upon this Black Beard 
 took a glass of liquor and drank to him, saying, " I'll give no 
 quarter nor take any from you." Maynard repliedj " He expect- 
 ed no quarter from him, nor should he give him any." 
 
 During this dialogue the pirate's ship floated, and the sloops 
 were rowing with all expedition towards him. As she came near, 
 the pirate fired a broadside, charged with all manner of small shot, 
 which killed or wounded twenty men. Black Beard's ship in a 
 little after fell broadside to the shore; one of the sloops called the 
 
8*> ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 Hanger, also fell astern. But Maynard finding that his own sloop 
 had way, and would soon be on board of Teach, ordered all 
 his men down, while himself and the man at the helm, whom he 
 commanded to lie concealed, where the only persons who remained 
 on deck. He at the same time desired them to take their pistols, 
 cutlasses, and swords, and be ready for action upon his call, and, 
 for greater expedition, two ladders were placed in the hatchway. 
 When the king's sloop boarded, the pirate's case-boxes, filled 
 with powder, small shot, slugs, and pieces of lead and iron, with 
 a quickmateh in the mouth of them, were thrown into Maynard's 
 sloop. Fortunately, however, the men being in the hold, they did 
 small injury on the present occasion, though they are usually very 
 destructive. Black Beard seeing few or no hands upon deck, cried 
 to his men that they were all knocked on the head except three or 
 four; " and therefore," said he, " let us jump on board, and cut 
 to pieces those that are alive.'* 
 
 Upon this, during the smoke occasioned by one of these case- 
 boxes, Black Beard, with fourteen of his men, entered, and were not 
 perceived until the smoke was dispelled. The signal was given to 
 Maynard's men, who rushed up in an instant. Black Beard and 
 the lieutenant exchanged shots, and the pirate was wounded; they 
 then engaged sword in hand, until the sword of the lieutenant 
 broke, but fortunately one of his men at that instant gave Black 
 Beard a terrible wound in the neck and throat. A most despe- 
 rate and bloody conflict ensued: — Maynard with twelve men, and 
 Black Beard with fourteen. The sea was dyed with blood all 
 around the vessel, and uncommon bravery was displayed on both 
 sides. Though the pirate was wounded by the first shot from 
 Maynard, though he had received twenty cuts, and as many shots, 
 he fought with desperate valour; but at length, while in the act of 
 cocking his pistol, he fell down dead. By this time eight of his 
 men had fallen, and the rest being wounded, cried out for quarter, 
 which was granted, as the ringleader was slain. The other sloop 
 aiso attacked the men who remained in the pirate vessels, until 
 they also cried out for quarter. And such was the desperation of 
 Black Beard, that, having small hope of escaping, he had placed 
 a negro with a match at the gunpowder-door, to blow up the ship 
 the moment he should have been boarded by the king's men, in 
 order to involve the whole in general ruin. That destructive 
 broadside at the commencement of the action, which at first ap- 
 peared so unlucky, was, however the means of their preservation 
 !rom the intended destruction. 
 
CAPTAIN TEACH. 321 
 
 Maynard severed the pirate's head from his body, suspended it 
 upon his bowsprit-end, and sailed to Bath-town, to obtain medical 
 aid for his wounded men. In the pirate sloop several letters and 
 papers were found, which Black Beard would certainly have des- 
 troyed previous to the engagement, had he not determined to blow 
 her up upon his being taken, which disclosed the whole villainy 
 between the honourable Governor of Bermuda and his honest 
 secretary on the one hand, and the notorious pirate on the other, 
 who had now suffered the just punishment of his crimes. 
 
 Scarcely was Maynard returned to Bath-town, when he boldly 
 went and made free with the sixty hogsheads of sugar in the pos- 
 session of the governor, and the twenty in that of his secretary. 
 
 After his men had been healed at Bath-town, the lieutenant pro- 
 ceeded to Virginia, with the head of Black Beard still suspended 
 on his bowsprit-end, as a trophy of his victory, to the great joy of 
 all the inhabitants. The prisoners were tried, condemned, and 
 executed; and thus all the crew of that infernal miscreant Black 
 Beard were destroyed except two. One of these was taken out of 
 a trading-vessel, only a day before the engagement, in which he 
 received no less than seventy wounds, of all which he was cured. 
 The other was Israel Hands, who was master of the Queen Anne's 
 Revenge ; he was taken at Bath-town, being wounded in one of 
 Black Beard's savage humours. One night Black Beard, drinking 
 in his cabin with Hands, the pilot, and another man, without any 
 pretence took a small pair of pistols, and cocked them under the 
 table; which being perceived by the man he went on deck, leaving 
 the captain, Hands, and the pilot together. When his pistols 
 were prepared, he extinguished the candle, crossed his arms, and 
 fired at his company. The one pistol did no execution, but the 
 other wounded Hands in the knee. Interrogated concerning the 
 meaning of this, he answered with an imprecation, " That if he 
 did not now and then kill one of them, they would forget who he 
 was." Hands was eventually tried and condemned, but as he was 
 about to be executed, a vessel arrived with a proclamation prolong- 
 ing the time of His Majesty's pardon, which Hands pleading, he 
 was saved from a violent and shameful death. 
 
 In the commonwealth of pirates, he who goes the greatest length 
 of wickedness, is looked upon with a kind of envy amongst them, 
 as a person of a more extraordinary gallantry; he is therefore 
 entitled to be distinguished by some post, and if such a one has 
 out courage, he must certainly be a great man. The hero of whom 
 lire writing was thoroughly accomplished in this way, ana bjuie 
 
322 ENGLISH PIRATES 
 
 of his frolics of wickedness were as extravagant as if he aimed at 
 making his men believe he was a devil incarnate. Being one day 
 at sea, and a little flushed with drink; " Come," said he, H let us 
 make a hell of our own, and try how long we can bear it." Ac- 
 cordingly he, with two or three others, went down into the hold, 
 and closing up all the hatches, filled several pots full of brimstone, 
 and other combustible matter; they then set it on fire, and so co\i- 
 tinued till they were almost suffocated, when some of the men cried 
 out for air; at length he opened the hatches, not a httle pleased 
 that he had held out the longest. 
 
 Those of his crew who were taken alive, told a story which may 
 appear a little incredible. That once, upon a cruise, they found 
 out that they had a man on board more than their crew ; such a 
 one was seen several days amongst them, sometimes below and 
 sometimes upon deck, yet no man in the ship could give any account 
 who he was, or from whence he came ; but that he disappeared a 
 little before they were cast away in their great ship, and, it seems, 
 they verily believed it was the devil. 
 
 One would think these things should have induced them to reform 
 their lives ; but being so many reprobates together, they encouraged 
 and spirited one another up in their wickedness, to which a con- 
 tinual course of drinking did not a little contribute. In Black 
 Beard's Journal, which was taken, there were several memoranda 
 of the following nature, all written with his own hand. — " Such a 
 day, rum all out; — our company somewhat sober; — a d d con- 
 fusion amongst us ; — rogues a plotting ; — great talk of separation. — 
 So I looked sharp for a prize; such a day took one, with a great 
 
 deal of liquor on board ; so kept the company hot, d d hot, 
 
 then all things went well again." 
 
 We shall close the narrative of this extraordinary man's life by 
 an account of the cause why he was denominated Black Beard. 
 He derived this name from his long black beard, which, like a 
 frightful meteor, covered his whole face, and terrified all America 
 more than any comet that had ever appeared. He was accustomed 
 to twist it with ribbon in small quantities, and turn them about his 
 ears. In time of action he wore a sling over his shoulders with 
 three brace of pistols. He stuck lighted matches under his hat, 
 which appearing on both sides of his face and eyes, naturally fierce 
 and wild, made him such a figure that the human imagination 
 cannot forma conception of a fury more terrible and alarming; 
 and if he had the appearance and look of a fury, his actions cor- 
 responded with tha character. 
 
328 
 
 CAPTAIN CHARLES VANE. 
 
 Charles Vane was one of those who stole away the silver which 
 the Spaniards had fished up from the wrecks of the galleons in the 
 Gulf of Florida, and was at Providence when governor Rodgers 
 arrived there with two men-of-war. 
 
 All the pirates who were then found at this colony of rogues, 
 submitted and received certificates of their pardon, except Captain 
 Vane and his crew; who, as soon as they saw the men-of-war enter, 
 slipped their cable, set fire to a prize they had in the harbour, 
 sailed out with their piratical colours flying, and fired at one of 
 the men-of-war, as they went off from the coast. 
 
 Two days after, they met with a sloop belonging to Barbadoes, 
 which they took, and kept the vessel for their own use, putting 
 aboard five and twenty hands, with one Yeats, the commander. 
 In a day or two they fell in with a small interloping trader, with a 
 quantity of Spanish pieces of eight aboard, bound for Providence, 
 which thay also took along with them. With these two sloops, 
 Vane went to a small island and cleaned; where he shared the 
 booty, and spent some time in a riotous manner. 
 
 About the Jatter end of May, 1718, Vane and his crew sailed, 
 and being in want of provisions, they beat up for the windward 
 Islands. In the way they met with a Spanish sloop, bound from 
 Porto Rico to the Havannah, which they burnt, stowed the Spani- 
 ards into a boat, and left them to get to the island by the blaze of 
 their vessel. Steering between St. Christopher's and Anguilla, 
 they fell in with a brigantine and a sloop, freighted with such cargo 
 as they wanted ; from whom they got provisions for sea-store. 
 
 Some time after this, standing to the 'northward, in the track 
 which the Old England ships take in their voyage to the American 
 colonies, they took several ships and vessels, which they plundered 
 of what they thought fit, and then let them pass. 
 
 About the latter end of August, Vane, with his consort Yeats, 
 came off South Carolina, and took a ship belonging to Ipswich, 
 laden with logwood. This was thought convenient enough for their 
 own business, and therefore they ordered their prisoners to work, 
 and throw all the lading overboard ; but when they had more than 
 half cleared the ship, the whim changed, and they would not have 
 
524 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 her: so Coggershall, the captain of the captured vessel, had his 
 ship again, and he was suffered to pursue his voyage home. In 
 this voyage the pirates took several ships and vessels, particularly 
 a sloop from Barbadoes, a small ship from Antigua, a sloop belong- 
 ing to Curacoa, and a large brigantine from Guinea, with upwards 
 of ninety negroes aboard. The pirates plundered them all and let 
 them go, putting the negroes out of the brigantine aboard Yeats' 
 vessel. 
 
 Captain Vane always treated his consort with very little respect, 
 and assumed a superiority over him and his crew, regarding the 
 vessel but as a tender to his own : this gave them disgust; for they 
 thought themselver as good pirates, and as great rogues as the best 
 of them; so they caballed together, and resolved, the first oppor- 
 tunity, to leave the company, and accept of His Majesty's pardon, 
 or set up for themselves ; either of which they thought more honour- 
 able than to be servants to Vane: the putting aboard so many 
 negroes, where there were so few hands to take care of them, ag- 
 gravated the matter, though they thought fit to conceal or stifle 
 their resentment at that time. 
 
 In a day or two, the pirates lying off at anchor, Yeats in the 
 evening slipped his cable, and put his vessel under sail, standing 
 into the shore ; which when Vane saw, he was highly provoked, 
 and got his sloop under sail to chase his consort. Vane's brigantine 
 sailing best, he gained ground of Yeats, and would certainly have 
 come up with them, had he had a little longer run ; but just as he 
 got over the bar, when Vane came within gunshot of him, he fired 
 a broadside at his old friend, and so took his leave. 
 
 Yeats came into North Eddisto river, about ten leagues to the 
 southward of Charlestown, and sent an express to the governor, 
 to know if he and his comrades might have the benefit of his 
 Majesty's pardon; promising that, if they might, they would sur- 
 render themselves to his mercy, with the sloops and negroes. 
 Their request being granted, they all came up, and received cer- 
 tificates ; and Captain Thomson, from whom the negroes were 
 taken, had them all restored to him, for the use of his owners. 
 
 Vane cruised some time off the bar, in hopes to catch Yeates at 
 his coining out again, but therein he was disappointed; however, 
 he there took two ships from Charlestown, which were bound home 
 to England. It happened just at this time, that two sloops well 
 manned and armed, were equipped to go after a pirate, which the 
 governor of South Carolina was informed lay then in Cape Fear 
 river, cleaning: but Colonel Khet, who commanded the sloops, 
 
CAITAIN CHARLES VANE. 325 
 
 meeting with one of the ships that Vane had plundered, going 
 back over the bar for such necessaries as had been taken from her; 
 and she giving the colonel an account of being taken by the pirate 
 Vane, and also, that some of her men, while they were prisoners 
 on board of him, had heard the pirates say they should clean in 
 one of the rivers to the southward, he altered his first design, and 
 instead of standing to the northward, in pursuit of the pirate in 
 Cape Fear river, turned to the southward after Vane, who had 
 ordered such reports to be given out, on purpose to put any force 
 that should come after him upon a wrong scent; for he stood away 
 to the northward, so that the pursuit proved to be of no effect. 
 Colonel Rhet's speaking with this ship was the most unlucky thing 
 that could have happened, because it turned him out of the road 
 which, in all probability, would have brought him into the company 
 of Vane, as well as of the pirate he went after, and so they might 
 have been both destroyed; whereas, by the colonel's going a differ- 
 ent way, he not only lost the opportunity of meeting with one, but 
 if the other had not been infatuated, and lain six weeks together 
 at Cape Fear, he would have missed him likewise ; however, the 
 colonel having searched the rivers and inlets, for several days with- 
 out success, at length sailed in prosecution of his first design, and 
 met with the pirate accordingly, whom he fought and took. 
 
 Captain Vane went into an inlet to the northward, where he 
 met with Captain Teach, otherwise Black Beard, whom he saluted 
 ; when he found who he was) with his great guns loaded with shot ; 
 it being the custom among pirates when they met, to do so, though 
 they are wide of one another : Black Beard answered the salute in 
 the same manner, and mutual civilities passed between them some 
 days, when*, about the beginning of October, Vane took leave, 
 and sailed farther to the northward. 
 
 On the 23rd of October, off Long Island, he took a small brigan- 
 tine bound from Jamaica to Salem in New England, besides a 
 little sloop ; they rifled the brigantine, and sent her away. From 
 thence they resolved on a cruise between Cape Meise and Cape 
 Nicholas, where they spent some time without seeing or speaking 
 with any vessel, till the latter end of November; they then fell in 
 with a ship, which it was expected would have struck as soon as 
 their black colours were hoisted ; but instead of this she discharged 
 a broadside upon the pirate, and hoisted French colours, which 
 showed her to be a French man-of-war. Vane desired to have 
 nothing further to say to her, but trimmed his sails, and stood 
 away from the Frenchman; however, Monsieur having a mind to 
 
32f ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 be better informed who ne was, set all his sails and crowded alter 
 him. During this chase the pirates were divided in their resolution 
 what to do : Vane, the captain, was for making off as fast as he 
 could, alleging that the man-of-war was too strong for them to cope 
 with ; but one John Rackam, their quarter-master, and who was 
 a kind of check upon the captain, rose up in defence of a contrary 
 opinion, saying, " that though she had more guns, and a greater 
 weight of metal, they might board her, and then the best bo^s 
 wotild carry the day," Rackam was well seconded, and the ma- 
 jority was for boarding; but Vane urged, that it was too rash and 
 desperate an enterprise, the man-of-war appearing to be twice 
 their force, and that their brigantine might be sunk by her before 
 they could reach to board her. The mate, one Robert Deal, was 
 of Vane's opinion, as were about fifteen more, and all the rest 
 joined with Rackam the quarter-master. At length the captain 
 made use of his power to determine this dispute, which in these 
 cases is absolute and uncontrollable, by their own laws, viz. the 
 captain's absolute right of determining in all questions concerning 
 fighting, chasing, or being chased; in all other matters whatsoever 
 the captain being governed by a majority ; so the brigantine having 
 the heels, as they term it, of the Frenchman, she came clear off. 
 
 But the next day, the captain's conduct was obliged to stand the 
 test of a vote, and a resolution passed against his honour and 
 dignity, which branded him with the name of coward, deposed 
 him from the command, and turned him out of the company with 
 marks of infamy ; and with him went all those who did not vote 
 for boarding the French man-of-war. They had with them a small 
 sloop that had been taken by them some time before, which they 
 gave to Vane and the discarded members ; and that they might be 
 in a condition to provide for themselves by their own honest endea- 
 vours, they let them have a sufficient quantity of provisions and 
 ammunition. 
 
 John Rackam was voted captain of the brigantine in Vane's 
 room, and he proceeded towards the Caribbee Islands; where we 
 must leave him, till we have finished our history of Charles Vane. 
 
 The sloop sailed for the bay of Honduras, and Vane and his 
 crew put her in as good a condition as they could by the way, that 
 they might follow their old trade. They cruised two or three d«yi 
 off the north-west part of Jamaica, and took a sloop and two pet- 
 tiagas, all the men of which entered with them : the sloop they 
 kept, and Robert Deal was appointed captain 
 
 On the loth of December, the two sloops came into the bay, 
 

 CAPTAIN CHARLES VANE. Wl 
 
 wnere they found only one vessel at anchor. She was called the 
 Fearl of Jamaica, and got under sail at the sight of them ; but 
 the pirate sloops coming near Rowland, and showing no colours, 
 he gave them a gun or two, whereupon they hoisted the black flag, 
 and fired three guns each at the Pearl. She struck, and the pirates 
 took possession, and carried her away to a small island called Bar- 
 nacho, where they cleaned. By the way they met with a sloop 
 from Jamaica, as she was going down to the bay, which they also 
 took. 
 
 In February, Vane sailed from Barnacho, for a cruise; but, 
 some days after he was out, a violent tornado overtook him, which 
 separated him from his consort, and, after two days' distress, threw 
 his sloop upon a small uninhabited island, near the bay of Hon- 
 duras, where she was staved to pieces, and most of her men were 
 drowned: Vane himself was saved, but reduced to great straits fox- 
 want of necessaries, having no opportunity to get any thing from 
 the wreck. He lived here some weeks, and was supported chiefly 
 by fishermen, who frequented the island with small crafts from the 
 main, to catch turtles and other fish. 
 
 While Vane was upon this island, a ship put in there from Ja- 
 maica for water, the captain of which, one Holfbrd, an old bucan- 
 ier, happened to be Vane's acquaintance. He thought this a good 
 opportunity to get off, and accordingly applied to his old friend; 
 but Holford absolutely refused him, saying to him, " Charles, I 
 shan't trust you aboard my ship, unless I carry you as a prisoner, 
 for I shall have you caballing with my men, knocking me on the 
 head, and running away with my ship a pirating." Vane made 
 all the protestations of honour in the world to him; but, it seems, 
 Captain Holford was too intimately acquainted with him, to repose 
 any confidence at all in his words or oaths. He told him, " He 
 might easily find a way to get off, if he had a mind to it : — I am 
 going down the bay," said he, " and shall return hither in about 
 a month, and if I find you upon the island when I come back, I'll 
 carry you to Jamaica, and there hang you." " How can I get 
 away ?" answered Vane. " Are there not fishermen's dories upon 
 the beach ? Can't you take one of them ?" replied Holford. 
 " "What?" said Vane, " Would you have me steal a dory then?" 
 " Do you make it a matter of conscience," replied Holford, " to 
 steal a dory, when you have been a common robber and pirate, 
 stealing ships and cargoes, and plundering all mankind that fell 
 in your way ! stay here if you are so squeamish :" and he left him 
 to consider of the matter. 
 
328 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 After Captain Holford's departure, another ship put into the 
 same island, in her way home for water; none of the company 
 knowing Vane, he easily passed for another man, and so was 
 shipped for the voyage. One would be apt to think that Vane was 
 now pretty safe, and likely to escape the fate which his crimes had 
 merited; but here a cross accident happened that ruined all. Hol- 
 ford returning from the bay, was met by this ship, and the captains 
 being very well acquainted with each other, Holford was invited 
 to dine aboard, which he did. As he passed along to the cabin, 
 he chanced to cast his eye down into the hold, and there saw 
 C arles Vane at work : he immediately spoke to the captain, say- 
 i g, " Do yon know whom you have got aboard there ?" " Why," 
 said he, " I have shipped a man at such an island, who was cast 
 away in a trading sloop, and he seems to be a brisk hand." " I 
 tell you," replied Captain Holford, " it is Vane, the notorious 
 pirate." " If it be he," cried the other, " I won't keep him " 
 " Why then," said Holford, " I'll send and take him aboard, and 
 surrender him at Jamaica." This being agreed upon, captain 
 Holford, as soon as he returned to his ship, sent his boat with his 
 mate armed, who, coming to Vane, showed him a pistol, and told 
 him he was his prisoner. No man daring to make opposition, he 
 was brought aboard and put into irons; and when Captain Holford 
 arrived at Jamaica, he delivered up his old acquaintance to justice, 
 at which place he was tried, convicted, and executed, as some 
 time before, Vane's consort, Robert Dale, who was brought thither 
 by one of the men-of-war. It is clear from this how little ancient 
 friendship will avail a great villain, when he is deprived of the 
 power that had before supported and rendered him formidable. 
 
 CAPTAIN JOHN RACKAM. 
 
 This John Rackam, as has been reported in the foregoing pages, 
 was quarter master to Vane's company, till the crew wore divided, 
 and Vane turned out of it for refusing to board the French man- 
 of-war, Rackam being voted captain of the division that remained 
 in the brigantine. The 24th of November, 1718, was the first day 
 of his command; his first cruise was among the Carribbee Islands, 
 where he took and plundered several vessels. 
 
 We have already taken notice, that when Captain Woods Rod- 
 
i 
 
 CAPTAIN JOHN RACKAM. 328 
 
 gers wen, to the Island of Providence with the king's pardon to 
 such of the pirates as should surrender, this brigantine, whicn 
 Rackam now commanded, made its escape through another passage, 
 bidding defiance to the mercy that was offered. 
 
 To the windward of Jamaica, a Madeira-man fell into the pirate's 
 way, which they detained two or three days, till they had their 
 market out of her, and then they gave her back to the master, and 
 permitted one Hosea Tidsel, a Tavern-keeper at Jamaica, who 
 had been picked up in one of their prizes, to depart in her, she 
 being bound for that island. 
 
 After this cruise, they went into a small island, and cleaned, 
 and spent their Christmas ashore, drinking and carousing as long 
 as they had any liquor left, and then went to sea again for more. 
 They succeeded but too well, though they took no extraordinary 
 prize for above two months, except a ship laden with convicts from 
 Newgate, bound for the plantations, which in a few days was 
 retaken, with all her cargo, by an English man-of-war that was 
 stationed in those seas. 
 
 Rackam stood towards the island of Bermuda, and took a ship 
 bound to England from Carolina, and a small pink from New 
 England, both which he brought to the Bahama Islands, where, 
 with the pitch, tar, and stores, they cleaned again, and refitted 
 their own vessel; but staying too long in that neighbourhood, 
 Captain Rodgers, who was Governor of Providence, hearing of 
 these ships being taken, sent out a sloop well manned and armed, 
 which retook both the prizes, though in the mean while the pirate 
 had the good fortune to escape. 
 
 From hence they sailed to the back of Cuba, where Rackam 
 kept a little kind of a family; at which place they stayed a con- 
 siderable time, living ashore with their Delilahs, till their money 
 and provisions were expended, and they concluded it time to look 
 out for more. They repaired their vessel, and were making ready 
 to put to sea, when a guarda de costa came in with a small English 
 sloop, which she had taken as an interloper on the coast. The 
 Spanish guard-ship attacked the pirate, but Rackam being close 
 in behind a little island, she could do but little execution where 
 she lay ; the Dons therefore warped into the channel that evening, 
 in order to make sure of her the next morning. Rackam, finding 
 his case desperate, and that there was hardly any possibility or 
 escaping, resolved to attempt the following enterprize. The Spa- 
 nish prize lying for better security close into the land, between 
 the little island and the Main, our desperado took his crew into 
 
330 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 the boat with their cutlasses, rounded the little island, and fell 
 aboard their prize silently in the dead of night without being dis- 
 covered, telling the Spaniards that were aboard her, that if they 
 spoke a word, or made the least noise, they were all dead men ; 
 and so they became masters of her. When this was done, he 
 slipped her cable, and drove out to sea. The Spanish, man-of-war 
 was so intent upon their expected prize, that they minded nothing 
 else, and as soon as day broke, they made a furious fire upon the 
 empty sloop; but it was not long before they were rightly apprised 
 of the matter, when they cursed themselves sufficiently for a com- 
 pany of fools, to be bit out of a good rich prize, as she proved to 
 oe, and to have nothing but an old crazy hull in the room of her. 
 
 Rackam and his crew had no occasion to be displeased at the 
 exchange, as it enabled them to continue some time longer in a 
 way of life that suited their depraved minds. In August 1720, we 
 find him at sea again, scouring the harbours and inlets of the 
 north and west parts of Jamaica, where he took several small craft, 
 which proved no great booty to the rovers; but they had but few 
 men, and therefore were obliged to run at low game till they could 
 increase their company and their strength. 
 
 In the beginning of September, they took seven or eight fishing- 
 boats in Harbour Island, stole their nets and other tackle, and 
 then went off to the French part of Hispaniola, where they landed, 
 and took the cattle away, with two or three Frenchmen whom 
 they found near the water-side, hunting wild hogs in the evening. 
 The Frenchmen came on board, whether by consent or compul- 
 sion is not certainly known. They afterwards plundered two 
 sloops, and returned to Jamaica, on the north coast of which 
 island, near Porto Maria Bay, they took a schooner, Thomas 
 Spenlow, master; it being then the 19th of October. The next 
 day Rackam seeing a sloop in Dry Harbour Bay stood in and fired 
 a gun ; the men all ran ashore and he took the sloop and lading ; but 
 when those ashore found that they were pirates, they hailed the sloop, 
 and let them know that they were all willing to come aboard of them. 
 
 Rackam's coasting the island in this manner, proved fatal to 
 him ; for intelligence of his expedition, came to the governor, by 
 a canoe which he had surprised ashore in Ocho Bay : upon this a 
 sloop was immediately fitted out, and sent round the island in 
 quest of him, commanded by Captain Barnet, and manned with 
 a good number of hands. Rackam, rounding the island, and 
 drawing round the western point, called Point Negnl, saw a smail 
 tettiaga, which, at sight of the sloop, ran ashore and landed he* 
 
CAPTAIN EDWARD ENGLAND. 331 
 
 men, when one of them hailed her. Answer was made that they 
 were Englishmen, and begged the pettiaga's men to come on board 
 and drink a bowl of punch; which they prevailed upon them to 
 do. Accordingly, the company, in an evil hour, came all aboard 
 of the pirate, consisting of nine persons ; they were armed with 
 muskets and cutlasses, but what was their real design by so doing 
 we shall not take upon us to say. They had no sooner laid down 
 their arms and taken up their pipes, than Barnet's sloop, which 
 was in pursuit of Rackam's, came in sight. 
 
 The pirates, finding she stood directly towards them, feared the 
 event, and weighed their anchor, which they had but lately let go, 
 and stood off. Captain Barnet gave them chase, and, having the 
 advantage of little breezes of wind which blew off the land, came 
 up with her, and brought her into Port Royal, in Jamaica. 
 
 About a fortnight after, the prisoners were brought ashore, viz. 
 November 16, 1720, and Captain Rackam and eight of his men 
 condemned and executed. Captain Rackam and two others were 
 hung in chains. 
 
 But what was very surprising, was the conviction of the nine 
 men that came aboard the sloop on the same day she was taken. 
 They were tried at an adjournment of the court, on the 24th of 
 January, the magistracy waited all that time, it is supposed, for 
 evidence to prove the piratical intention of going aboard the said 
 sloop; for it seemed there was no act of piracy committed by 
 them, as appeared by the witnesses against them, two Frenchmen 
 taken by Rackam off the island of Hispaniola; who merely deposed 
 that the prisoners came on board the pirate without compulsion. 
 
 The court considered the prisoners' case, and the majority of 
 the commissioners being of opinion that they were all guilty of the 
 piracy and felony they were charged with, viz the going over 
 with a piratical and felonious intent to John Rackam, &c. then 
 notorious pirates, and by them known to be so, they all received 
 sentence of death, and were executed on the 17th of February, 
 1721, at Gallows Point at Port Royal. 
 
 CAPTAIN EDWARD ENGLAND. 
 
 This adventurer was mate of a sloop that sailed from Jamaica, 
 and was taken by Captain "Winter, a pirate, just before the settle- 
 
m ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 men t of the pirates at Providence island. After the pirates had 
 surrendered to his Majesty's pardon, and Providence island was 
 peopled by the English government, Captain England sailed to 
 Africa. There he took several vessels, particularly the Cadogan, 
 from Bristol, commanded by one Skinner. When the latter struck 
 to the pirate, he was ordered to come on board in his boat. The 
 person upon whom he first cast his eye, proved to be his old boat 
 swain, who stared him in the face, and accosted him in the folTbw- 
 ing manner: "Ah, Captain Skinner, is it you? the only person I 
 wished to see : 1 am much in your debt, and I shall pay you all in 
 your own coin." The poor man trembled in every joint, and 
 dreaded the event, as he well might. It happened that Skinner 
 and his old boatswain, with -some of his men, had quarrelled, so 
 that he thought fit to remove them on board a man-of-war, while he 
 refused to pay them their wages. Not long after, they found means 
 to leave the man-of-war, and went on board a small ship in the 
 West Indies. They were taken by a pirate, and brought to Pro- 
 vidence, and from thence sailed as pirates with Captain England. 
 Thus accidentally meeting their old captain, they severely revenged 
 the treatment they had received. 
 
 After the rough salutation which has been related, the boatswain 
 called to his comrades, laid hold of Skinner, tied him fast to the 
 windlass, and pelted him with glass bottles until they cut him in a 
 shocking manner, then whipped him about the deck until they were 
 quite fatigued, remaining deaf to all his prayers and entreaties; 
 and at last, in an insulting tone, observed, that as he had been a 
 good master to his men, he should have an easy death, and upon 
 this shot him through the head. 
 
 Having taken such things out of the ship as they stood most in 
 need of, she was given to Captain Davis in order to try his fortune 
 with a few hands. 
 
 Captain England, some time after, took a ship called the Pearl, 
 for which he exchanged his own sloop, fitted her up for piratical 
 service, and called her the Royal James. In that vessel he was 
 very fortunate, and took several ships of different sizes and different 
 nations. In the spring of 1719, the pirates returned to Africa, and 
 beginning at the river Gambia, sailed down the coast to Cape Corso, 
 and captured several vessels. Some of them they pillaged, and 
 allowed to proceed, some they fitted out for the pirate service, and 
 others they burned. 
 
 Leaving our pirate upon this coast, the Revenge and the Flying 
 Mug, two other pirate vessels, sailed for the West Indies, where 
 
CAPTAIN EDWARD ENGLAND. 333 
 
 they took several prizes, and then cleared and sailed for Brazil. 
 There they captured some Portuguese vessels ; but a large Portu- 
 guese man-of-war coming up to them, proved an unwelcome guett. 
 The Revenge escaped, but was soon lost upon that coast. The Fly- 
 ing King in despair ran ashore. There were then seventy on board, 
 twelve of whom were slain, and the remainder taken prisoneis. 
 The Portuguese hanged thirty-eight of them. 
 
 Captain England, whilst cruising upon that coast, took the Peter- 
 borough of Bristol, and the Victory. The former they detained, 
 the latter they plundered and dismissed. In the course of his voy- 
 age, England met with two ships, but these taking shelter under 
 Cape Corso Castle, he unsuccessfully attempted to set them on fire. 
 He next sailed down to Whydah road, where Captain La Bouc.^e 
 had been before England, and left him no spoil. He now went into 
 the harbour, cleaned his own ship, and fitted up the Peterborough, 
 which he called the Victory. During several weeks the pirates 
 remained in this quarter, indulging in everv species of riot and 
 debauchery, until the natives, exasperatea with their conduct, 
 came to an open rupture, when several of the negroes were slain, 
 and one of their towns set on fire by the pirates. 
 
 Leaving that port, the pirates, when at sea, determined by vote 
 to sail for the East Indies, and arrived at Madagascar. After wa- 
 tering and taking in some provisions they sailed for the coast of 
 Malabar. This place is situated in the Mogul Empire, and is one 
 of its most beautiful and fertile districts. It extends from the coast 
 of Canora to Cape Comorin. The original natives are negroes; 
 but a mingled race of Mahometans, who are generally merchants, 
 have been introduced in modern times. Having sailed almost round 
 the one half of the globe, literally seeking whom they might devour, 
 our pirates arrived in this hitherto untried and prolific field for 
 their operations. 
 
 Not long after their settlement at Madagascar, they took a cruise, 
 in which they captured two Indian vessels and a Dutchman. They 
 exchanged the latter for one of their own, and directed their course 
 again to Madagascar. Several of their hands were sent on shore 
 with tents and ammunition, to kill such beasts and venison as the 
 island afforded. They also formed the resolution to go in search of 
 Avery's crew, which they knew had settled upon the island; but 
 as their residence was upon the other side of the island, the loss of 
 time and labour was the only fruit of their search. 
 
 They tarried here but a very short time, then steered their course 
 to J uanua, and coming out of that harbour, fell in with two Lugaca 
 
334 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 Vessels and an Ostend ship, all Indiamen, which, after a most des- 
 perate action, they captured. The particulars of this extraordinary 
 action are related in the following letter from Captain Mackra 
 
 " Bombay t November \§th, 1720. 
 " We arrived on the 25th of July last, in company with the 
 Greenwich, at Juanna, an island not far from Madagascar. But- 
 ting in there to refresh our men, we found fourteen pirates who 
 came in their canoes from the Mayotta, where the pirate ship to 
 which they belonged, viz. the Indian Queen, two hundred and 
 lii'ty tons, twenty-eight guns, and ninety men, commanded by 
 Captain Oliver de la Bouche, bound from the Guinea coast to the 
 East Indies, had been bulged and lost. They said they left the 
 captain and forty of their men building a new vessel, to proceed 
 on their wicked design. Captain Kirby and I concluded that it 
 might be of great service to the East India Company to destroy 
 such a nest of rogues, and were ready to sail for that purpose on the 
 17th of August, about eight o'clock in the morning, when we dis- 
 covered two pirates standing into the bay of Juanna, one of thirty- 
 four, and the other of thirty-six guns. I immediately went on 
 board the Greenwich, where they seemed very diligent in pre- 
 paration for an engagement, and 1 left Captain Kirby with mutual 
 promises of standing by each other. 1 then unmoored, got under 
 sail, and brought two boats a-head to row me close to the Green- 
 wich ; but he being open to a valley and a breeze, made the best 
 of his way from me; which an Ostender in our company, of 
 twenty-two guns, seeing, did the same, though the captain had 
 promised heartily to engage with us, and I believe would have 
 been as good as his word, if Captain Kirby had kept his. About 
 half an hour after twelve, I called several times to the Greenwic h 
 to bear down to our assistance, and fired a shot at him, but to no 
 purpose; for though we did not doubt but he would join us, be- 
 cause, when he got about a league from us he brought his ship to 
 and looked on, yet both he and the Ostender basely deserted u>, 
 and left us engaged with barbarous and inhuman enemies, with 
 their black and bloody flags hanging over us, without the least 
 appearance of ever escaping, but to be cut to pieces. But God in his 
 good providence determined otherwise ; for, notwithstanding their 
 superiority, we engaged them both about three hours ; during which 
 time the biggest of them received some shot betwixt wind and 
 water, which made her keep off a little to stop her leaks The 
 othei endeavoured all she could to board us, by rowing with her 
 
CAPTAIN EDWARD ENGLAND. 335 
 
 oars, being within half a ship's length of us above an hour; but 
 by good fortune we shot all her oars to pieces, which prevented 
 Vhera, and by consequence saved our lives. 
 
 * About four o'clock most of the officers and men posted on the 
 quarter-deck being killed and wounded, the largest ship making 
 up to us with diligence, being still within a cable's length of us, 
 often giving us a broadside; there being now no hopes of Captain 
 Kirby's coming to our assistance, we endeavoured to run ashore; 
 and though we drew four feet of water more than the pirate, it 
 pleased God that he stuck fast on a higher ground than happily we 
 fell in with; so was disappointed a second time from boarding us. 
 Here we had a more violent engagement than before: all my offi- 
 cers and most of my men behaved with unexampled courage; and, 
 as we had a considerable advantage by having a broadside to his 
 bow, we did him great damage; so that had Captain Kirby come 
 in then, I believe we should have taken both the vessels, for we 
 had one of them sure; but the other pirate (who was still firing at 
 us), seeing the Greenwich did not offer to assist us, supplied his 
 consort with three boats full of fresh men. About five in the even- 
 ing the Greenwich stood clear away to sea, leaving us struggling 
 hard for life, in the very jaws of death; which the other pirate 
 that was afloat, seeing, got a warp out, and was hauling under our 
 stern. 
 
 " By this time many of my men being killed and wounded, and 
 no hopes left us of escaping being all murdered by enraged barba- 
 rous conquerors, I ordered all that could get into the long-boat, 
 under the cover of the smoke of our guns; so that, with what some 
 did in boats, and others swimming, most of us that were able got 
 ashore by seven o'clock. When the pirates came aboard, they 
 cut three of our wounded men to pieces. I with some of my people 
 made what haste we could to King's-town, twenty-five miLes from 
 us, where I arrived next day, almost dead with the fatigue and loss 
 of blood, having been sorely wounded in the head by a musket- 
 ball. 
 
 " At this town I heard that the pirates had offered ten thousand 
 dollars to the country people to bring me in, which many of them 
 would have accepted, only they knew the king and all his chief 
 people were in my interest. Meantime, I caused a report to be 
 spread that I was dead of my wounds, which much abated their 
 fury. About ten days after, being pretty well recovered, and 
 hoping the malice of our enemies was nigh over, I oegan „o con- 
 sider the dismal condition we were reduced to: being in a place 
 wb«re we had no hopes of getting a passage home, all of us in a 
 
336 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 manner naked, not having had time to bring with us either a shirt 
 or a pair of shoes, except what we had on. Having obtained leave 
 to go on board the pirates with a promise of safety, several of the 
 chief of them knew me, and some of them had sailed with me, 
 which I found of great advantage; because, notwithstanding then- 
 promise, some of them would have cut me to pieces, and all that 
 would not enter with them, had it not been for their chief captain, 
 Edward England, and some others whom I knew. They talked 
 of burning one of their ships, which we had so entirely disabled 
 as to be no farther useful to them, and to fit the Cassandra in 
 her room; but in the end I managed the affair so well, that they 
 made me a present of the said shattered ship, which was Dutch 
 built, and called the Fancy ; her burden was about three hundred 
 tons. I procured also a hundred and twenty nine bales of the 
 company 's cloth, though they would not give me a rag of my own 
 clothes. 
 
 "They sailed the 3rd of September: and I, with jury-masts, 
 and such old sails as they left me, made a shift to do the like on 
 the 8th, together with forty-three of my ship's crew, including two 
 passengers and twelve soldiers; having no more than five tons of 
 water aboard After a passage of forty- eight days, I arrived here 
 on the 26th of October, almost naked and starved, having been 
 reduced to a pint of water a day, and almost in despair of ever 
 seeing land, by reason of the calms we met with between the coast 
 of Arabia and Malabar. 
 
 " We had in all thirteen men killed and twenty-four wounded; 
 and we were told that we destroyed about ninety or a hundred of 
 the pirates. When they left us, they were about three hundred 
 whites, and eighty blacks in both ships. I am persuaded, had our 
 consort the Greenwich done his duty, we had destroyed both of 
 them, and got two hundred thousand pounds for our owners and 
 selves; whereas the loss of the Cassandra may justly be imputed 
 to his deserting us. I have delivered all the bales that were given 
 me into the company's warehouse, for which the governor and 
 council have ordered me a reward. Our governor, Mr. Boon, who 
 is extremely kind and civil to me, had ordered me home in the 
 packet; but Captain Harvey, who had a prior promise, being 
 come in with the fleet, goes in my room. The governor hath pro- 
 mised me a country voyage to help to make up my losses, and 
 would have me stay and accompany him to England next year." 
 
 Captain Mackra was certainly in imminent danger, in trusting 
 himself and his men on board the pirate ship, and unquestionably 
 
CAPTAIN EDWARD ENGLAND. 331 
 
 nothing but the desperate circumstances in which he was placed 
 could have justified so hazardous a step. The honour and influence 
 of Captain England, however, protected him and his men from 
 the fury of the crew, who would willingly have wreaked their 
 vengeance upon them. 
 
 It is pleasing to discover any instance of generosity or honour 
 among such an abandoned race, who bid defiance and are re- 
 gardless of all laws both human and divine. Captain England 
 was so steady to Captain Mackra, that he informed him, it would be 
 with no small difficulty and address that he would be able to pre- 
 serve him and his men from the fury of the crew, who were greatly 
 enraged at the resistance which had been made. He likewise 
 acquainted him, that his influence and authority among them was 
 giving place to that of Captain Taylor, chiefly because the dispo- 
 sition of the latter was more savage and brutal. They therefore 
 consulted between them what was the best method to secure the 
 favour of Taylor, and keep him in good humour. Mackra made 
 the punch to flow in great abundance, and employed every artifice 
 to soothe the mind of that ferocious villain. A singular incident 
 was also vejry favourable to the unfortunate captain. It happened 
 that a pirate, with a prodigious pair of whiskers, a wooden le^, 
 and stuck round with pistols, came blustering and swearing upon 
 the quarter-deck, inquiring " where was Captain Mackra." He 
 naturally supposed that this barbarous-looking fellow would be 
 his executioner; but, as he approached, he took the captain by 
 the hand, swearing, that he was an honest fellow, and that he had 
 formerly sailed with him, and would stand by him ; and let him 
 see the man that would touch him." This terminated the dispute, 
 and Captain Taylor's disposition was so amelioiated with punch, 
 that he consented that the old pirate ship, and so many bales of 
 cloth, should be given to Mackra, and then sank into the arms of 
 intoxication. England now pressed Mackra to hasten away, lest 
 the ruffian, upon his becoming sober, should not only retract his 
 word, but give liberty to his crew to cut him and his men to pieces. 
 
 But the gentle temper of Captain England, and his generosity 
 towards the unfortunate Mackra, proved the origin of much cala- 
 mity to himself. The crew, in general, deeming the kind of usage 
 which Mackra had received, inconsistent with piratical policy, 
 they circulated a report, that he was coming against them with the 
 Company's force. The result of these invidious reports was to de- 
 prive England of his command^ and to excite these cruel villains 
 to put him on sbor«* with three others, upon the island of Maun- 
 Z 
 
3J» ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 Uug. If England and his small company had not been destitute o« 
 every necessary, they might have made a comfortable subsistence 
 here, as the island abounds with deer, hogs, and other animals. 
 Dissatisfied, however, with their solitary situation, Captain Eng- 
 land and his three men exerted their industry and ingenuity, and 
 formed a small boat, with which they sailed to Madagascar, where 
 they subsisted upon the generosity of some more fortunate piratical 
 companions. 
 
 Captain Taylor detained some of the officers and men belonging 
 to Captain Mackra, and having repaired their vessel, sailed for 
 India. The day before they made land, they espied two ships to 
 the eastward, and supposing them to be English, Captain Taylor 
 ordered one of the officers of Mackra's ship to communicate to him 
 the private signals between the Company's ships, swearing that if 
 he did not do so immediately, he would cut him into pound pieces. 
 But the poor man being unable to give the information demanded, 
 was under the necessity of enduring their threats. Arrived at the 
 vessels, they found that they were two Moorish ships, laden with 
 horses. The pirates brought the captains and merchants on board, 
 and tortured them in a barbarous manner, to constrain them to tell 
 where they had hid their treasure. They were, however, disap- 
 pointed ; and the next morning they discovered land, and at the 
 same time a fleet on shore plying to windward. In this situation 
 they were at a considerable loss how to dispose of their prizes. 
 To let them go would lead to their discovery, and thus defeat the 
 design of their voyage; and it was a distressing matter to sink the 
 men and the horses, though many of them were for adopting that 
 measure. They, however, brought them to anchor, threw all the 
 sails overboard, and cut one of the masts half through. 
 
 While they lay at anchor, and were employed in taking in water, 
 one of the above-mentioned fleet moved towards them with English 
 colours, and was answered by the pirate with a red ensign : but 
 they did not hail each other. At night they left the Muscat ships, 
 and sailed after the fleet. About four next morning, the pirates 
 were in the midst of the fleet, but seeing their vast superiority, 
 were greatly at loss what method to adopt. The Victory was be- 
 come leaky, and their hands were so few in number, that it only 
 remained for them to deceive, if possible, the English squadron. 
 They were unsuccessful in gaining any thing out of that fleet, and 
 had only the wretched satisfaction of burning a single galley. 
 They however that day seized a galliot laden with cotton, and 
 made inquiry of the men concerning the fleet. They protested 
 
CAPTAIN EDWARD ENGLAND. 339 
 
 that they had not seen a ship since they left Gogo, and earnestly 
 implored their mercy ; but, instead of treating them with lenity, 
 they put them to the rack, in order to extort farther confession. 
 The day following, a fresh easterly wind blew hard, and rent the 
 galliot's sails ; upon this the pirates put her company into a boat, 
 with nothing but a try-sail, no provisions, and only four gallons 
 of water, and, though they were out of sight of land, left them to 
 shift for themselves. 
 
 It may be proper to inform our readers, that one Angria, an In- 
 dian prince, of considerable territory and strength, had proved a 
 troublesome enemy to the Europeans, and particularly to the Eng- 
 lish. Callaba was his principal fort, situated not many leagues 
 from Bombay, and he possessed an island in sight of the port, 
 from whence he molested the Company's ships. His art in brib- 
 ing the ministers of the Great Mogul, and the shallowness of 
 the water, that prevented large ships of war from approaching, 
 were the principal causes of his safety. 
 
 The Bombay fleet, consisting of four grabs, the London and the 
 Candois, and two other ships, with a galliot, having an additional 
 thousand men on board for this enterprise, sailed to attack a fort 
 belonging to Angria upon the Malabar coast. Though their 
 strength was great, yet they were totally unsuccessful in their 
 enterprise. It was this fleet returning home that our pirates dis- 
 covered upon the present occasion. Upon the sight of the pirates, 
 the commodore of the fleet intimated to Mr. Brown the general, 
 that as they had no orders to fight, and had gone upon a different 
 purpose, it would be improper for them to engage. Informed of 
 the loss of this favourable opportunity of destroying the robbers, 
 the governor of Bombay was highly enraged, and giving the com- 
 mand of the fleet to Captain Mackra, ordered him to pursue and 
 engage them wherever they should be found. 
 
 The pirates having barbarously sent away the galliot with her 
 men, they arrived southward, and between Goa and Carwar they 
 heard several guns, so that they came to anchor, and sent their 
 boat to reconnoitre, which returned next morning with the intelli- 
 gence of two grabs lying at anchor in the road. They accordingly 
 weighed, ran towards the bay, and in the morning were discovered 
 by the grabs, who had just time to run under India-Diva castle 
 for protection. This was the more vexatious to the pirates, as 
 they were without water : some of them, therefore, were for mak- 
 ing a descent upon the island, but that measure not being gene- 
 
340 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 rally approved, they sailed towards the south, and took a smaL" 
 ship, which had only a Dutchman and two Portuguese on board. 
 They sent one of these ashore to the Captain, to inform him that, 
 if he would give them some water and fresh provisions, he might 
 have his vessel returned. He replied that, if they would give him 
 possession over the bar, he would comply with their request. But, 
 suspecting the integrity of his design, they sailed to Lacca Qeva 
 islands, uttering dreadful imprecations against the captain. 
 
 Disappointed in finding water in these islands, they sailed to 
 Malinda island, and sent their boats on shore, to discover if there 
 was any water, or if there were any inhabitants. Thev returned 
 with the information, that there was abundance of water, that the 
 houses were only inhabited by women and children, the men hav- 
 ing fled at the appearance of the ships. They accordingly hastened 
 to supply themselves with water, used the defenceless women in a 
 brutal manner, destroyed many of their fruit-trees, and set some 
 of their houses on fire. 
 
 While off this island, they lost several of their anchors by the 
 rockiness of the ground; and one day, it blowing more violently than 
 usual, they were forced to take to sea, leaving several people and 
 most of the water casks ; but when the gale was over, they returned 
 to take in their men and water. Their provisions being nearly 
 exhausted, they resolved to visit the Dutch at Cochin. After sailing 
 three days, they arrived off Tellechery, and took a small vessel 
 belonging to Governor Adams, and brought the master on board, 
 very much intoxicated, who informed them of the expedition of 
 Captain Mackra. This intelligence raised their utmost indignation. 
 t: A villain !" said they, " to whom we have given a ship and pre- 
 sents, to come against us ! he ought to be hanged ; and since we 
 cannot show our resentment to him, let us hang the dogs his people, 
 who wish him well, and would do the same, if they were clear." 
 " If it be in my power," said the quarter-master, " both masters 
 and officers of ships shall be carried with us for the future, only to 
 plague them. Now, England we may mark him for this." 
 
 They proceeded to Calicut, and attempting to cut out a ship, 
 were prevented by some guns placed upon shore. One of Captain 
 Mackra's officers was under deck at this time, and was commanded 
 both by the captain and quarter-master to tend the braces on the 
 booms, in hopes that a shot would take him before they got clear. 
 He was about to have excused himself, but they threatened to shoot 
 him; and when he expostulated, and jaimed their promise to put 
 
CAPTAIN EDWARD ENGLAND. 341 
 
 him on shore, he received an unmerciful beating from the quarter- 
 master; Captain Taylor, to whom that duty belonged, being lame 
 of his hands. 
 
 The day following they met a Dutch galliot, laden with lime- 
 stone, bound for Calicut, on board of which they put one Captain 
 Fawkes; and some of the crew interceding for Mackra's officer, 
 Taylor and his party replied-, " If we let this dog go, who has 
 overheard our designs and resolutions, he will overset all our well- 
 advised plans, and particularly this supply we are seeking for at 
 the hands of the Dutch." 
 
 When they arrived at Cochin, they sent a letter on shore by a 
 fishing-boat, entered the road, and anchored, each ship saluting 
 the fort with eleven guns, and receiving the same number in re- 
 turn. This was the token of their welcome reception, and at night 
 a large boat was sent, deeply laden with liquors and all kinds of 
 provisions, and in it a servant of John Trumpet, one of their 
 friends, to inform them that it would be necessary for them to run 
 farther south, where they would be supplied both with provisions 
 and naval stores. 
 
 They had scarcely anchored at the appointed place, when several 
 canoes, with white and black inhabitants, came on board, and 
 continued without interruption to perform all the good offices in 
 their power during their stay in that place. In particular, John 
 Trumpet brought a large boat of arrack, and sixty bales of sugar, 
 as a present from the governor and his daughter; the former re- 
 ceiving in return a table-clock, and the other a gold watch, the 
 spoil of Captain Mackra's vessel. When their provisions were all 
 on board, Trumpet was rewarded with about six or seven thousand 
 pounds, was saluted with three cheers, and eleven guns; and 
 several handsful of silver were thrown into the boat, for the men 
 to gather at pleasure. 
 
 There being little wind that night, they remained at anchor, 
 and in the morning were surprised with the return of Trumpet, 
 bringing another boat equally well stored with provisions, with 
 chests of piece-goods and ready-made clothes, and along with him 
 the fiscal of the place. At noon they espied a sail towards the 
 south, and immediately gave chase, but she out-sailed them, and 
 sheltered under the fort of Cochin. Informed that they would not 
 be molested in taking her from under the castle, they sailed towards 
 her, but upon the fort firing two guns, they ran off for fear of 
 more serious altercation, and returning, anchored in their for r 
 nation. They were too welcome visitants to be permitted to de^~ , 
 
342 ENGLISH PIRATES 
 
 so long as John Trumpet could contrive to detain them. With 
 this view he informed them, that in a few days a rich vessel, com- 
 manded by the Governor of Bombay's brother, was to pass that 
 way. 
 
 That government is certainly in a wretched state, which is 
 under the necessity of trading with pirates, in order to enrich 
 itself; nor will such government hesitate by what means an injury 
 can be repaired, or a fortune gained. Neither can language des- 
 cribe the low and base principles of government which could 
 employ such a miscreant as John Trumpet in its service. He was 
 a tool in the hands of the government of Cochin ; and, as the dog 
 said in the fable, " What is done by the master's orders, is the 
 master's action ;" or, as the same sentiment is, perhaps, better ex- 
 pressed in the legal axiom; " Qui facit per alium facit per se." 
 
 While under the direction of Trumpet, some proposed to proceed 
 directly to Madagascar, but others were disposed to wait until 
 they should be provided with a store ship. The majority being of 
 the latter opinion, they steered to the south, and seeing a ship on 
 shore were desirous to get near her, but the wind preventing, they 
 separated, the one sailing northward and the other southward, in 
 hopes of securing her when she should come out, whatever direc- 
 tion she might take. They were now, however, almost entrapped 
 in the snare laid for them. In the morning, to their astonishment 
 and consternation, instead of being called to give chase, five 
 large ships were near, which made a signal for the pirates to bear 
 down. The pirates were in the greatest dread lest it should be Cap- 
 tain Mackra, of whose activity and courage they had formerly 
 sufficient proof. The pirate ships, however, joined and fled with 
 all speed from the fleet. In three hours' chase none of the fleet 
 gained upon them, except one grab. The remainder of the day 
 was calm, and, to their great consolation, this next day the dread- 
 ed fleet was entirely out of sight. 
 
 Their alarm being over, they resolved to spend the Christmas in 
 feasting and mirth, in order to drown care, and to banish thought. 
 Nor did one day suffice, but they continued their revelling for 
 several days, and made so free with their fresh provisions, that in 
 their next cruise they were put upon short allowance; and it was 
 entirely owing to the sugar and other provisions that were in the 
 leaky ship that they were preserved from absolute starvation. 
 
 In this condition they reached the island of Mauritius, refitted 
 the Victory, and left that place with the following inscription 
 written upon one of the walls. " Left this place on the 5tn of 
 
CAPTAIN EDWARD ENGLAND. 343 
 
 April, to go to Madagascar for Limos." This they did lest any 
 visit should be paid to that place during their absence. They, 
 however, did not sail directly for Madagascar, but the island of 
 Mascarius, where they fortunately fell in with a Portuguese of 
 seventy guns, lying at anchor. The greater part of her guns had 
 been thrown overboard, her masts lost, and the whole vessel dis- 
 abled by a storm; she, therefore, became an easy prey to the 
 pirates. Conde de Ericeira, Viceroy of Goa, who went upon the 
 fruitless expedition against Angria the Indian, and several pas- 
 sengers, were on board. Besides other valuable articles and 
 specie, they found in her diamonds to the amount of four million 
 of dollars. Supposing that the ship was an Englishman, the 
 Viceroy came on board next morning, was made prisoner, and 
 obliged to pay two thousand dollars as a ransom for himself and 
 the other prisoners. After this he was set ashore, with an express 
 engagement to leave a ship to convey him and his companions to 
 another port. 
 
 Meanwhile, the pirates received intelligence that a vessel was to 
 the leward of the island, which they pursued and captured. But 
 instead of performing their promise to the Viceroy, which they 
 could easily have done, they sent the Ostender along with some of 
 their men to Madagascar, to inform their friends of their success, 
 with instructions to prepare masts for the prize ; and they soon 
 followed, carrying two thousand negroes in the Portuguese vessel. 
 
 Madagascar is an island larger than Great Britain, situated 
 upon the eastern coast of Africa, abounding with all sorts of pro- 
 visions, such as oxen, goats, sheep, poultry, fish, citrons, oranges, 
 tamarinds, dates, cocoa-nuts, bananas, wax, honey, rice, cotton, 
 indigo, and all other fruits common in that quarter of the globe ; 
 ebony, of which lances are made, gums of several kinds, and 
 many other valuable productions. Here, in St. Augustine's bay, 
 the ships sometimes stop to take in water, when they make the 
 inner passage to India, and do not intend to stop at Johanna. 
 
 When the Portuguese ship arrived here, they received intelli- 
 gence that the Ostender had taken advantage of an hour when the 
 men were intoxicated, and risen upon them, and carried the ship 
 to Mozambique, from whence the governor ordered her to Goa. 
 
 The pirates now divided their plunder, receiving forty-two dia- 
 monds per man, or in smaller proportion according to their mag- 
 nitude. A foolish jocular fellow who had received a large diamond 
 of the value of forty-two, was highly displeased, and so went and 
 
344 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 broke it in pieces, exclaiming, that he had many more shares 
 than either of them. Some, contented with their treasure, and 
 unwilling to run the risk of losing what they possessed, and per- 
 haps their lives also, resolved to remain with their friends at 
 Madagascar, under the stipulation that the longest livers should 
 enjoy all the booty. The number of adventurers being now less- 
 ened, they burned the Victory, cleaned the Cassandra, and try^ 
 remainder went on board her under the command of Taylor, whom 
 we must leave for a little while, in order to give an account of the 
 squadron which arrived in India in 1721. 
 
 When the commodore arrived at the cape, he received a letter 
 that had been written by the Governor Pondicherry to the Gover- 
 nor of Madras, informing him that the pirates were strong in the 
 Indian seas; that they had eleven sail, and fifteen hundred men; 
 but adding, that many of them retired about that time to Brazil 
 and Guinea, while others fortified themselves at Madagascar, 
 Mauritius, Johanna, and Mohilla; and that a crew under the 
 command of Condin, in a ship called the Dragon, had captured a 
 vessel with thirteen lacks of rupees on board, and having divided 
 their plunder, had taken up their residence with their friends at 
 Madagascar. 
 
 Upon receiving this intelligence, Commodore Matthews sailed 
 for these islands, as the most probable place of success. He 
 endeavoured ineffectually to prevail on England, at St. Mary's, 
 to communicate to him what information he could give respecting 
 the pirates; but England declined, thinking that this would be 
 almost to surrender at discretion. He then took up the guns of 
 the Jubilee sloop that were on board, and the men-of-war made 
 several cruises in search of the pirates, but to no purpose. The 
 squadron was then sent down to Bombay, was saluted by the port, 
 and after these exploits returned home. 
 
 The pirate, Captain Taylor, in the Cassandra, now fitted up the 
 Portuguese man-of-war, and resolved upon another voyage to the 
 Indies; but, informed that four men-of-war had been sent after 
 the pirates in that quarter, he changed his determination, and 
 sailed for Africa. Arrived there, they put in at a place near the 
 river Spirito Sancto, on the coast of Monomotapa. As there was 
 no correspondence by land, nor any trade carried on by sea at 
 this place, they thought that it would afford a safe retreat. To 
 their astonishment, however, when they approached the shore, it 
 Vinp in the dusk of the evening, they were accosted by sevcra 1 
 
Page 346 
 
CAPTAIN EDWARD ENGLAND. 345 
 
 shot. They immediately anchored, and in the morning saw that 
 the shot had come from a small fort of six guns, which they attacked 
 and destroyed. 
 
 This small fort was erected by the Dutch East India Company 
 a few weeks before, and committed to the care of a hundred and 
 fifty men, the one half of whom had perished by sickness or other 
 causes. Upon their petition, sixteen of these were admitted into 
 the society of the pirates ; and the rest would also have been 
 received, had they not been Dutchmen, to whom they had a rooted 
 aversion. 
 
 In this place they continued during four months, refitting their 
 vessels, and amusing themselves with all manner of diversions, 
 until the scarcity of their provisions awakened them to industry 
 and exertion. They, however, left several parcels of goods to the 
 starving Dutchmen, which Mynheer joyfully exchanged for provi- 
 sions with the next vessel that touched at that fort. 
 
 Leaving that place, they were divided in opinion what course to 
 steer; some went on board the Portuguese prize, and, sailing for 
 Madagascar, abandoned the pirate life ; and others going on board 
 the Cassandra, sailed for the Spanish West Indies. The Mermaid 
 man-of-war, returning from a convoy, got near the pirates, and 
 would have attacked them, but a consultation being held, it was 
 deemed inexpedient, and thus the pirates escaped. A sloop was, 
 however, dispatched to Jamaica with the intelligence, and the 
 Lancaster was sent after them; but they were some days too Jate, 
 the pirates having, with all their riches, surrendered to the Gover- 
 nor of Portobello. 
 
 Calming their consciences, that others would have acted a similar 
 part, without the least remorse, they took up their residence here, 
 to spend the remainder of their days in living upon the spoil of 
 nations. It is difficult to compute the injury done by this crew 
 during five years. Whether to gratify their humour, to prevent 
 intelligence, or from the want of men to navigate, or the brave 
 resistance made, or from wanton folly and barbarity, the moment 
 the resolution was formed, the vessels they captured were frequently 
 sent to the bottom. After their surrender to the Spaniards, severa. 
 of them left that place, and it is reported that Captain Taylor 
 accepted of a commission in the Spanish service, and commanded 
 the man-of-war that attacked the English .ogwood cutters in the 
 bay cf Honduras. 
 
CAPTAIN DAVib 
 
 Was born in Monmouthshire, and, from a boy, trained to the w««l, 
 His last voyage from England was in the sloop Cadogan from 
 Bristol, in the character of chief mate. This vessel was captuted 
 by the pirate England, upon the Guinea coast, whose companions 
 plundered the crew, and murdered the captain, as already related 
 in England's life. 
 
 Upon the death of Captain Skinner, Davis pretended that he 
 was urged by England to become a pirate, but that he resolutely 
 refused. He added, that England, pleased with his conduct, had 
 made him captain in room of Skinner, giving him a sealed paper, 
 which he was not to open until he was in a certain latitude, and 
 then expressly to follow the given directions. When he arrived in 
 the appointed place, he collected the whole crew, and solemnly 
 read hij sealed instructions, which contained a generous grant of 
 the ship and all her stores to Davis and his crew, requesting them 
 to go to Brazil, and dispose of the cargo to the best advantage, 
 and make an equal division of the money. 
 
 Davis then commanded the crew to signify whether they were 
 inclined to follow that mode of life, when, to his astonishment 
 and chagrin, the majority positively refused. Then, in a trans- 
 port of rage, he desired them to go where they would. 
 
 Knowing that part of the cargo was consigned to merchants in 
 Barbadoes, they directed their course to that place. When arrived 
 there, they informed the merchants of the unfortunate death of 
 Skinner, and of the proposal which had been made to them. Davis 
 was accordingly seized, and committed to prison, but he having 
 never been in the pirate service, nothing could be proved to con- 
 demn him, and he was discharged without a trial. Convinced 
 that he could never hope for employment in that quarter after his 
 aotection, he went to the island of Providence, which he knew to 
 be a rendezvous for pirates. Upon his arrival there, he was griev- 
 ously disappointed, because the pirates who frequented that place 
 had just accepted his majesty's pardon, and had surrendered. 
 
 Captain Kodgers having equipped two sloops for trade, Davis 
 obtained employment in one of these, called the Buck. They 
 were laden with European goods to a considerable value, which 
 they were to sell or exchange with the French and the Spaniards. 
 
CAPTAIN DAVIS. 347 
 
 Ttiey first touched at the island of Martinique, belonging to the 
 French, and Davis, knowing that many of the men were formerly 
 in the pirate service, enticed them to seize the master, and to run 
 off with the sloop. When they had effected their purpose, they 
 hailed the other ship, in which they knew that there were many 
 hands ripe for rebellion, and coming to, the greater part joined 
 Davis. Those who did not choose to adhere to them were allowed 
 to remain in the other sloop, and continue their course, after Davis 
 had pillaged her of what things he pleased. 
 
 In full possession of the vessel and stores and goods, a large 
 bowl of punch was made ; under its exhilarating influence, it was 
 proposed to choose a commander, and to form their future mode 
 of policy. The election was soon over, and as a large majority of 
 legal votes were in favour of Davis, and no scrutiny demanded, 
 Davis was declared duly elected. He then drew up a code of 
 laws, to which he himself swore, and required the same bond of 
 alliance from all the rest of the crew. He then addressed them 
 in a short and appropriate speech, the substance of which was, 
 a proclamation of war with the whole world. 
 
 They next consulted, what part would be the most convenient 
 to clean the vessel, and it was resolved to repair to Coxon's Hole, 
 at the east end of the island of Cuba, where they could remain in 
 perfect security, as theentrance was so narrow that one ship could 
 keep out a hundred. 
 
 They, however, had no small difficulty in cleaning their vessel, 
 as there was no carpenter among them. They performed that 
 laborious task in the best manner they could, and then made to 
 the north side of Hispaniola. The first sail they met with was a 
 French ship of twelve guns, which they captured ; and while they 
 were plundering her, another appeared in view. Enquiring of 
 the Frenchmen, they learned that she was a ship of twenty-four 
 guns and sixty men. Davis proposed to his crew to attack her, 
 assuring them that she would prove a rich prize. This appeared 
 to the crew such a hazardous enterprise, that they were rather ad- 
 verse to the measure. But he acquainted them that he had con- 
 ceived a stratagem that he was confident would succeed ; they 
 might, therefore, safely leave the matter to his management. He 
 then commenced chase, and ordered his prize to do the same. 
 Being a better sailer, he soon came up with the enemy, and 
 showed his black colours. With no small surprise at his insolence 
 111 coming so near them, they commanded him to strike. He replied, 
 that he was disposed to give them employment until his companion 
 
348 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 came up, who was able to contend with thein; meanwhile asiuring 
 them that, if they did not strike to him, it would most certainly 
 fare the worse with them: then giving them a broadside, he 
 received the same in return. 
 
 When the other pirate ship drew near, they, according to the 
 directions of Davis, appeared upon deck in white shirts, which 
 making an appearance of numbers, the Frenchmen were intimi- 
 dated, and struck. Davis ordered the captain with twenty of fits 
 men to come on board, and they were all put in irons except the 
 captain. He then despatched four of his men to the other ship, 
 and called aloud to them, desired that his compliments should be 
 given to the captain, with a request to send a sufficient number of 
 hands to go on board their new prize, to see what they had got in 
 her. At the same time, he gave them a written paper with their 
 proper instructions, even to nail up all the small guns, to take out 
 all the arms and powder, and to go every man on board the new 
 prize. When his men went on board her, he ordered the greater 
 part of the prisoners to be removed into the empty vessels, and 
 by this means secured himself from any attempt to recover their 
 ship. , 
 
 During three days, these three vessels sailed in company, but 
 finding that his late prize was a heavy sailer, he emptied her of 
 every thing that he stood in need of. and then restored her to the 
 captain with all his men. The French captain was so enraged at 
 being thus miserably deceived, that, upon the discovery of the 
 stratagem, he would have thrown himself overboard, had not his 
 men prevented him. 
 
 Gaptain Davis then formed the resolution of parting with the 
 other prize-ship also, and soon afterwards steered northward, and 
 took a Spanish sloop, He next directed his course towards the 
 western islands, and from Cape de Verd islands cast anchor at St. 
 Nicholas, and hoisted English colours. The Portuguese supposed 
 that he was a privateer, and Davis going on shore was hospitably 
 received, and they traded with him for such articles as they found 
 most advantageous. He remained here five weeks, and he and 
 half of his crew visited the principal town of the island. Davis, 
 from his appearing in the dress of a gentleman, was greatly ca» 
 ressed by the Portuguese, and nothing was spared to entertain 
 and render him and his men happy. Having amused themselves 
 during a week, they returned to the ship, and allowed the other 
 half of the crew to visit the capital, and enjoy themselves in a 
 u*<? manner. Upon their return, they cleaned their ship and pui 
 
captain davis. 349 
 
 lo sea, but four of the men were so captivated with the ladies ana 
 the luxuries of the place, that they remained in the island, and 
 one of them married and settled there. 
 
 Davis now sailed for Bonavista, and perceiving nothing in that 
 harbour steered for the Isle of May. Arrived there, he found 
 several vessels in the harbour, and plundered them of whatever 
 he found necessary. He also received a considerable reinforce- 
 ment of men, the greater part of whom entered willingly into the 
 piratical service. He likewise made free with one of the ships, 
 equipped her for his own purpose, and called her the King James. 
 Davis next proceeded to St. Jago to take in water. Davis with 
 some others going on shore to seek water, the governor came to 
 inquire who they were, and expressed his suspicion of their being 
 pirates. Upon this, Davis seemed highly affronted, and express- 
 ed his displeasure in the most polite but determined manner. He, 
 however, hastened on board, informed his men, and suggested 
 the possibility of surprising the fort during the night. According- 
 ly, all his men being well-armed, they advanced to the assault; 
 and, from the carelessness of the guards, they were in the gar- 
 rison before the inhabitants were alarmed. Upon the discover^ 
 of their danger, they took shelter in the governor's house, and 
 fortified it against the pirates: but the latter throwing in somt 
 granado shells, ruined the furniture, and killed several people. 
 
 The alarm was calculated in the morning, and the country 
 assembled to attack them; but unwilling to stand a siege, the pi- 
 rates dismounted the guns, pillaged the fort, and fled to their 
 ships. 
 
 When at sea, they mustered their hands, and found that they 
 were seventy strong. They then consulted among themselves 
 what course they should steer, and were divided in opinion ; but 
 by a majority it was carried to sail for Gambia, on the coast of 
 Guinea. Of this opinion was the captain, who having been em- 
 ployed in that trade, was acquainted with the coast; and informed 
 his companions, that there was always a large quantity of money 
 deposited in that castle, and he was confident, if the matter was 
 entrusted to him, he should successfully storm that fort. From 
 their experience of his former prudence and courage, they cheer- 
 fully submitted to his direction in the full assurance of success. 
 
 Arrived at Gambia, he ordered all his men below, except just so 
 many as were necessary to work the vessel, that those from the 
 luit, seeing so few hands, might have no suspicion that she was 
 any other than a trading- vessel. He then ran under the fort r^? 
 
350 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 cast anchor, and having ordered out the boat, manned with six 
 men indifferently dressed, he, with the master and doctor, dressed 
 themselves like gentlemen, in order that the one party might look 
 like foremastmen, and the other like merchants. In rowing ashore, 
 he instructed his men what to say if any questions were put to 
 them by the garrison. 
 
 On reaching land, the party was conducted by a file of musqu^- 
 teers into the fort, and kindly received by the governor, who 
 inquired what they were, and whence they came? They replied, 
 that they were from Liverpool, and bound for the river Senegal, 
 to trade for gum and elephants' teeth; but that they were chased 
 on that coast by two French men-of-war, and narrowly escaped 
 being taken. " We were now disposed," continued Davis, " to 
 make the best of our voyage, and would willingly trade here for 
 slaves." The governor then inquired what were the principal 
 articles of their cargo. They replied, that they were iron and 
 plate, which were necessary articles in that place. The governor 
 then said, that he would give them slaves for all their cargo; and 
 asked if they had any European liquor on board. They answered, 
 that they had a little for their own use, but that he should have a 
 hamper of it. He then treated them with the greatest civility, 
 and desired them all to dine with him. Davis answered, that as 
 he was commander of the vessel, it would be necessary for him to 
 go down to see if she was properly moored, and to give some other 
 directions; but that these gentlemen might stay, and he would 
 return before dinner, and bring the hamper with him. 
 
 While in the fort, his eyes were keenly employed to discover 
 the position of the arms, and how the fort might most successfully 
 be surprised. He discovered that there was a sentry standing 
 near a guard-house, in which there were a quantity of arms heaped 
 up in a corner, and that a considerable number of small aims 
 were in the governor's hall. When he went on board, he ordered 
 some hands on board a sloop lying at anchor, lest, hearing any 
 bustle they should come to the aid of the castle; then desiring his 
 men to avoid too much liquor, and to be ready when ho should 
 hoist the flag from the walls, to come to his assistance, he proceeded 
 to the castle. 
 
 Having taken these precautions and formed these arrangements, 
 he ordered every man who was to accompany him to arm himself 
 with two pair of pistols, which he himself also did, concealed 
 under their clothes. He then directed them to go into the guard- 
 room, and fall into conversation, and immediately upon his firing 
 
CAPTAIN DAVIS. 351 
 
 a pistol out of the governor's window, to shut the men up, and 
 secure the arms in the guard- room. 
 
 When Davis arrived, dinner not being ready, the governor pro- 
 posed that they should pass the time in making a bowl of punch, 
 Davis's boatswain attending him, had an opportunity of visiting 
 all parts of the house, and observing their strength. He *L : s- 
 pered his intelligence to his master, who, being surrounded by his 
 own friends, and seeing the governor unattended by any of his 
 retinue, presented a pistol to the breast of the latter, informing 
 him that he was a dead man, unless he should surrender the fort 
 and all its riches. The governor thus taken by surprise, was com- 
 pelled to submit; for Davis took down all the pistols that hung in 
 the hall, and loaded them. He then fired his pistol out of the 
 window. His men flew like lions, presented their pistols to the 
 soldiers, and while some carried out the arms, the rest secured 
 the military, and shut them all up in the guard-house, placing a 
 guard on the door. Then one of them struck the union Hag on 
 the top of the castle, which the men from the vessel perceiving, 
 rushed to the combat, and in an instant were in possession of the 
 castle, without tumult or bloodshed. 
 
 Davis then harangued the soldiers, many of whom enlisted with 
 him; and those who declined, he put on board the small ships, and 
 to prevent the necessity of a guard, or the possibility of escape, 
 carried off the sails, rigging, and cables. 
 
 That day being spent in feasting and rejoicing, the castle solut- 
 ing the ship, and the ship the castle, on the day following they 
 proceeded to examine the contents of their prize. They, however, 
 were greatly disappointed in their expectations, a large sum of 
 money having been sent off a few days before. But they found 
 money to the amount of about two thousand pounds in gold, and 
 many valuable articles of different kinds. They carried on board 
 their vessel whatever they deemed useful, gave several articles to 
 the captain and crew of the small vessel, and allowed them to 
 depart, while they dismounted the guns, and demolished the forti- 
 fications. 
 
 After doing all the mischief that their vicious minds could pos- 
 sibly devise, they weighed anchor; but in the mean time, perceiving 
 a sail bearing towards them with all possible speed, they hastened 
 to prepare for her reception, and made towards her. Upon her 
 near approach they discovered that she was a French pirate of 
 fourteen guns and sixty four men, the one half French and the 
 other half negroes. 
 
352 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 The Frenchman was in high expectations of a rich prize, birt 
 when he came nearer, he suspected, from the number of her guna 
 and men, that she was a small English man-of-war; he determined, 
 notwithstanding-, upon the bold attempt of boarding her, and 
 immediately fired a gun, and hoisted his black colours: Davis 
 imaieu.dtely returned the compliment. The Frenchman was highly 
 gratified at this discovery ; both hoisted out their boats, and •con- 
 gratulated each other. Mutual civilities and good offices past, 
 and the French captain proposed to Davis to sail down the coast 
 with him, in order to look out for a better ship, assuring him that 
 the very first that could be captured should be his, as he was always 
 willing to encourage an industrious brother. 
 
 They first touched at Sierra Leone, where they espied a large 
 vessel, and Davis being the swifter sailer, came first up with her. 
 He was not a little surprised that she did not endeavour to make 
 oft", aud began to suspect her strength. When he came alongside 
 of hei, she fired a whole broadside, and hoisted black colours. 
 Davis did the same, and fired a gun to leeward. The satisfaction 
 of these brothers in iniquity was mutual, at having thus acquired 
 so much additional strength and ability to undertake more for- 
 midable adventures. Two days were devoted to mirth and song, 
 and upon the third, Davis and Cochlyn, the captain of the new- 
 confederate, agreed to go in the French pirate ship to attack the 
 fort. When they approached, the men in the fort, apprehensive 
 of their character and intentions, fired all the guns upon them at 
 once. The ship returned the fire, and afforded employment until 
 the other two ships arrived, when the men in the fort seeing such 
 a number on board, lost courage and abandoned the fort to the. 
 mercy of the robbers. 
 
 They took possession, remained there seven weeks, and cleaned 
 their vessels. They then called a council of war, to deliberate 
 concerning future undertakings, when it was resolved to sail down 
 tne coast in company; and, for the greater regularity and grandeur, 
 Davis was chosen Commodore. That dangerous enemy, strong 
 drink, had well nigh, however, sown the seeds of discord among 
 Miese affectionate bretheren. But Davis, alike prepared for coun- 
 cil or for war, addressed them to the following purport: " Hear 
 ye, you Cochlyn and La Boise, (which was the name of the 
 French captain) 1 find, by strengthening you, I have put a rod 
 into your hands to whip myself: but I am still able to deal with 
 you both; however, since we met in love, let us part in love; for 
 I find that three of a trade can never agree long together." Upon 
 
CAPTAIN DAVIS. 355 
 
 this, the other two went on board of their respective ships, and 
 steered different courses. 
 
 Davis held down the coast, and reaching Cape Appolonia, he 
 captured three vessels, two English and one Scottish, plundered 
 them and allowed them to proceed. In five days after he met with 
 a Dutchman of thirty guns and ninety men. She gave Davis a 
 broadside, and killed nine of his men; a desperate engagement 
 ensued, which continued from one o'clock at noon until nine next 
 morning, when the Dutchman struck. 
 
 Davis equipped her, for the pirate service, and called her " The 
 Rover." With his two ships he sailed for the bay of Anamaboa, 
 which he entered about noon, and took several vessels which were 
 there waiting to take in negroes, gold, and elephants' teeth. 
 Davis made a present of one of these vessels to the Dutch cap- 
 tain and his crew, and allowed them to go in quest of their 
 fortune. When the fort had intelligence that they were pirates, 
 they fired at them, but without any effect; Davis fired also, and 
 hoisted the black colours, but deemed it prudent to depart. 
 
 The next day after he left Anamaboa, the man at the mast- 
 head discovered a sail. It may be proper to inform our readers, 
 that, according to the laws of pirates, the man who first discovers 
 a vessel, is entitled to the best pair of pistols in the ship, and such 
 is the honour attached to these, that a pair of them has been 
 known to sell for thirty pounds. 
 
 Davis pursued that vessel, which being between him and the 
 shore, laboured hard to run aground. Davis perceiving this, got 
 between her and the land, and fired a broadside at her, when she 
 immediately struck. She proved to be a very rich prize, having 
 on board the Governor of Acra, with all his substance, going to 
 Holland. There was in money to the amount of fifteen thousand 
 pounds, besides a large quantity of merchant goods, and other 
 valuable articles. 
 
 Before they reached the Isle of Princes, the St. James sprang 
 a leak, so that the men and the valuable articles were removed 
 into Davis's own ship. When he came in sight of the fort he 
 hoisted English colours. The Portuguese, seeing a large ship 
 sailing towards the shore, sent a sloop to discover her character 
 and destination. Davis informed them, that he was an English 
 man-of-war, sent out in search of some pirates which they had 
 heard were in this quarter. Upon this, he was piloted into the 
 port, and anchored below the guns at the fort. The governor was 
 nappy to have Englishmen in his harbour; and to do honour to 
 
 A A 
 
354 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 Davis, sent down a file of musqueteers to escourthim into the fort, 
 while Davis, the more to cover his design, ordered nine men, 
 according to the custom of the English, to row him on shore. 
 
 Davis also took the opportunity of cleaning and preparing all 
 things for renewing his operations. He, however, could not con- 
 tentedly leave the fort, without receiving some of the riches of 
 the island. He formed a scheme to accomplish his purpose,«and 
 communicated the same to his men. His design was to make the 
 governor a present of a few negroes in return for his kindness; 
 then to invite him, with a few of the principal men and friars 
 belonging to the island, to dine on board his ship, and secure 
 them all in irons, until each of them should give a large ransom. 
 They were accordingly invited, and very readily consented to go : 
 and deeming themselves honoured by his attention, all that were 
 invited, would certainly have gone aboard. Fortunately however, 
 for them, a negro, who was privy to the horrid plan of Davis, 
 swam on shore during the night, and gave information of the dan- 
 ger to the governor. 
 
 Under present circumstances, the governor thought proper to 
 dissemble his indignation, and to wait the event. The day ar- 
 rived, and Davis, the better to secure his prey, and to delude his 
 intended guests on board, along with his fellow nobles, (a title 
 which Davis and his principal officers had assumed,) went on 
 shore to bring the governor and the rest on board to dinner : when 
 they were desired to walk up to the fort to take a little refresh- 
 ment. An ambush was laid for them, and a whole volley being 
 fired at them, every man fell except one, who ran back and gained 
 the boat. Davis was wounded in the bowels, and, in his dying 
 agony, fired his pistols at his pursuers. 
 
 CAPTAIN ROBERTS. 
 
 Bartholomew Roberts was trained to a seafaring life. Among 
 other voyages which he made during the time that he lawfully 
 procured his maintenance, he sailed for the Guinea coast, iu No- 
 vember, 1719, where he was taken by the pirate Davis. He was 
 at first very averse from that mode of life, and would certainly 
 have deserted, had any opportunity occurred. It happened to him, 
 
CAPTAIN ROBERTS. 355 
 
 however, as to many upon another element, that preferment calm- 
 ed conscience, and reconciled him to that which he formerly 
 hated. 
 
 Davis having fallen in the manner related, those who had as- 
 sumed the title of Lords assembled to deliberate concerning the 
 choice of a new commander. There were several candidates, 
 who, by their services, had risen to eminence among their bre- 
 thren, and each of them thought himself quallified to bear rule. 
 One addressed the assembled Lords, saying, " That the good of 
 the whole, and maintenance of order, demanded a head, but that 
 the proper authority was deposited in the community at large ; so 
 that if one should be elected who did not act and govern for the 
 general good, he could be deposed, and another be substituted in 
 his place." 
 
 " We are the original," said he, " of this claim, and should a 
 captain be so saucy as to exceed prescription at any time, why, 
 down with him ! It will be a caution, after he is dead, to his suc- 
 cessors, to what fatal results any undue assumption may lead; 
 however, it is my advice, while we are sober, to pitch upon a man 
 of courage, and one skilled in navigation, — one who, by his pru- 
 dence and bravery, seems best able to defend this commonwealth, 
 and ward us from the dangers and tempests of an unstable element, 
 and the fatal consequences of anarchy; and such a one I take 
 Roberts to be : a fellow in all respects worthy of your esteem and 
 ' favour." 
 
 This speech was applauded by all but Lord Simpson, who had 
 himself strong expectations of obtaining the highest command. 
 He at last, in a surly tone, said, he did not regard whom they 
 chose as a commander, provided he was not a papist, for he had 
 conceived a mortal hatred to papists, because his father had been 
 a sufferer in Monmouth's rebellion. 
 
 Thus, though Roberts had only been a few weeks among them, 
 his election was confirmed by the Lords and Commons. He, with 
 the best face he could, accepted of the dignity, saying, " that 
 "ince he had dipped his hands in muddy water, and must be a 
 pirate, it was better being a commander than a private man." 
 
 The governor being settled, and other officers chosen in the room 
 of those who had fallen with Davis, it was resolved not to leave 
 this place without revenging his death. Accordingly, thirty men, 
 under the command of one Kennedy, a bold and profligate fellow, 
 landed, and under cover of the fire of the ship, ascended the hill 
 upon which the fort stood. Thev were no sooner discovered by 
 
356 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 the Portuguese, than they abandoned the fort, and took shelter in 
 the town. The pirates then entered without opposition, set fire to 
 the fort, and tumbled the guns into the sea. 
 
 Not satisfied with this injury, some proposed to land and set the 
 town in flames. Roberts, however, reminded them of the great 
 danger to which this would inevitably expose them; that there was 
 a thick wood at the back of the town, where the inhabitants ffiuld 
 hide themselves, and that, when their all was at stake, they would 
 make a bolder resistance; and that the burning or destroying of a 
 few houses, would be a small return for their labour, and the loss 
 that they might sustain. This prudent advice had the desired 
 effect, and they contented themselves with lightening the French 
 vessel, and battering down several houses of the town, to show 
 their high displeasure. 
 
 Roberts sailed southward, captured a Dutch Guineaman, and, 
 having emptied her of every thing they thought proper, returned 
 her to the commander. Two days after he captured au English 
 ship, and, as the men joined in pirating, emptied and burned the 
 vessel, and then sailed for St. Thomas. Meeting with no prize, 
 he sailed for Anamaboa, and there watered and repaired. Having 
 again put to sea, a vote was taken whether they should sail for the 
 East Indies or for Brazil. The latter place was decided upon, and 
 they arrived there in twenty-eight days. 
 
 Upon this coast our rovers cruised for about nine weeks, keeping 
 generally out of sight of land, but without seeing a sail; which 
 discouraged them so, that they determined to leave the station, 
 and steer for the West Indies; and, in order thereto, they stood 
 in to make the land for the taking of their departure, by which 
 means they fell in, unexpectedly, with a fleet of forty-two sail of 
 Portuguese ships, off the Bay of Los Todos Santos, with all their 
 lading in for Lisbon; several of them of good force, who lay there 
 waiting for two men-of-war of seventy guns each for their convoy. 
 However, Roberts thought it should go hard with him but he would 
 make up his market among them, and thereupon, he mixed with 
 the fleet, and kept his men concealed till proper resolutions could 
 be formed; that done, they came close up to one of the deepest, 
 and ordered her to send the master on board quietly, threatening 
 to give them no quarter, if any resistence or signal of distress was 
 made. The Portuguese, being surprised at these threats, and the 
 sudden flourish of cutlasses from the pirates, submitted without a 
 word, and the captain came on board. Roberts saluted him in a 
 friendly manner, telling him that they were gentlemen of fortune, 
 
 
CAPTAIN ROBERTS. 35-/ 
 
 and that their business with him was only to be informed wnich was 
 the richest ship in that fleet; and if he directed them right, he 
 should be restored to his ship without molestation, otherwise he 
 must expect instant death. 
 
 He then pointed to a vessel of forty guns, and a hundred and 
 fifty men; and though her strength was greatly superior to Roberts, 
 yet he made towards her, taking the master of the captured vessel 
 along with him. Coming alongside of her, Roberts ordered the 
 prisoner to ask, li How Seignior Captain did?" and to invite him 
 on board, as he had a matter of importance to impart to him. He 
 was answered, " That he would wait upon him presently." Ro- 
 berts, however, observing more than ordinary bustle on board, at 
 once concluded they were discovered, and pouring a broadside into 
 her, they immediately boarded, grappled, and took her. She was 
 a very rich prize, laden with sugar, skins, and tobacco, with four 
 thousand moidores of gold, besides other valuable articles. 
 
 In possession of so much riches, they now became solicitous to 
 find a safe retreat in which to spend their time in mirth and wan- 
 tonness. They determined upon a place called the Devil's Islands, 
 upon the river Surinam, where they arrived in safety, and met 
 with a kind reception from the governor and the inhabitants. 
 
 In this river they seized a sloop, which informed them that she 
 had sailed in company with a brigantine loaded with provisions. 
 This was welcome intelligence, as their provisions were nearly 
 exhausted. Deeming this too important a business to trust to 
 foreign hands, Roberts, with forty men in the sloop, gave chase 
 to that sail. In the keenness of the moment, and trusting to his 
 usual good fortune, Roberts supposed that he had only to take a 
 short sail, in order to bring in the vessel with her cargo; but to his 
 sad disappointment, he pursued her during eight days, and instead 
 of gaining, was losing way. Under these circumstances, he came 
 to anchor, and sent off the boat to give intelligence of their distress 
 to their companions. 
 
 In their extremity of want, they took up part of the floor in the 
 cabin, and patched up a sort of tray with rope-yarns, to paddle on 
 shore to get a little water to preserve their lives. When their 
 patience was almost exhausted, the boat returned, but instead of 
 provisions, brought the unpleasing information, that the lieutenant, 
 one Kennedy, had run off with both the ships. 
 
 The misfortune and misery of Roberts were greatly aggravated 
 by reflecting upon his own imprudence and want of foresight, as 
 well as from the baseness of Kennedy and his crew. Impelled by 
 
358 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 tiie necessity of his situation, he now began to reflect upon the 
 means he should employ for future support. Under the foolish 
 supposition that any laws, oaths, or regulations, could bind those 
 who had bidden open defiance to all divine and human laws, he 
 proceeded to form a code of regulations, for the maintenance of 
 order and unity in his little commonwealth. 
 
 But present necessity compelled to action, and with their small 
 sloop they sailed for the West Indies. They were not long before 
 they captured two sloops, which supplied them with provisions, 
 and a few days after, a brigantine, and then proceeded to Barba- 
 does. When off that island they met a vessel of ten guns, richly 
 laden from Bristol ; after plundering, and detaining her three days, 
 they allowed her to prosecute her voyage. This vessel, however, 
 informed the governor of what had befallen them, who sent a vessel 
 of twenty guns and eighty men in quest of the pirates. That 
 vessel was commanded by one Rogers, who, on the second day of 
 his cruise, discovered Roberts. Ignorant of any vessel being sent 
 after them, they made towards each other, Roberts gave him a 
 gun, but instead of striking, the other returned a broadside, with 
 three huzzas. A severe engagemect ensued, and Roberts being 
 hard put to it, lightened his vessel and ran off. 
 
 Roberts then sailed for the Island of Dominica, where he watered, 
 and was supplied by the inhabitants with provisions, for which he 
 gave them goods in return. Here he met with fifteen Englishmen 
 left upon the island by a Frenchman, who had made a prize of 
 their vessel; and they, entering into his service, proved a season- 
 able addition to his strength. 
 
 Though he did not think this a proper place for cleaning, yet as 
 it was absolutely necessary that it should be done, he directed his 
 course to the Granada Islands for that purpose. This, however, 
 had well nigh proved fatal to him ; for the Governor of Martinique 
 fitted out two sloops to go in quest of the pirates. They, however, 
 sailed to the above-mentioned place, cleaned with unusual dispatch, 
 and just left that place the night before the sloops arrived. 
 
 They next sailed for Newfoundland, arriving upon the banks 
 in June, 1720, and entered the harbour of Trepassi, with their 
 black colours flying, drums beating, and trumpets sounding. In 
 that harbour there were no less than twenty-two ships, which the 
 men abandoned upon the sight of the pirates. It is impossible to 
 describe the injury which they did at this place, by burning or 
 sinking the ships, destroying the plantations, and pillaging the 
 houses. 
 
CAPTAIN ROBERTS. 359 
 
 Roberts reserved a Bristol galley from his depredations in the 
 harbour, which he fitted and manned for his own service. Upon 
 the banks he met ten sail of French ships, and destroyed them all, 
 except one of twenty-six guns, which he seized and carried off, and 
 called her the Fortune. Then giving the Bristol galley to the 
 Frenchman, they sailed in quest of new adventures, and soon took 
 several prizes, and out of them increased the number of their own 
 hands. The Samuel, one of these, was a very rich vessel, having 
 some respectable passengers on board, who were roughly used, and 
 threatened with death if they did not deliver up their money and 
 their goods. They stripped the vessel of every article to the amount 
 of eight or nine thousand pounds. They then deliberated whether 
 to sink or burn the Samuel, but in the mean time they discovered 
 a sail, so they left the empty Samuel, and gave the other chase. 
 At midnight they overtook her, and she proved to be the Snow from 
 Bristol; and, because he was an Englishman, they used the mas- 
 ter in a cruel and barbarous manner. Two days after, they took 
 the Little York of Virginia, and the Love of Liverpool, both of 
 which they plundered and sent off. In three days they captured 
 three other vessels, removing the goods out of them, sinking one, 
 and sending off the other two. 
 
 They next sailed for the West Indies, but provisions growing 
 short, proceeded to St. Christopher's, when being denied provisions 
 by the governor, they fired on the town, and burnt two ships in the 
 roads. They then repaired to the Island of St. Bartholomew, 
 where the governor supplied them with every necessary, and caress- 
 ed them in the kindest manner. Satiated with indulgence, and 
 having taken in a large stock of every thing necessary, they una- 
 nimously voted to hasten to the coast of Guinea. In their way 
 they took a Frenchman, and as she was fitter for the pirate service 
 than their own, they informed the captain, that, as " a fair exchange 
 was no robbery," they would exchange sloops with him ; accord- 
 ingly, having shifted their men, they set sail. However, going 
 by mistake out of the track of the trade winds, they were under 
 the necessity of returning to the West Indies. 
 
 They now directed their course to Surinam, but not having 
 sufficient water for the voyage, they were soon reduced to a mouth- 
 ful of water a day; their numbers daily diminished by thirst and 
 famine, and the few who survived were reduced to the greatest 
 weakness. They at last had not one drop of water or any other 
 liquid, when, to their inexpressible joy, they anchored in seven 
 fathoms of water. This tended to revive exhausted nature, and 
 
350 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 inspire them with new vigour, though as yet tney had received a*- 
 relief. In the morning they discovered land, but at such a distance 
 that their hopes were greatly damped. The boat was however sent 
 off, and at night returned with plenty of that necessary element. 
 But this remarkable deliverance produced no reformation in the 
 manners of these unfeeling and obdurate men. 
 
 Steering their course from that place to Barbadoes, in their w^y 
 they met with a vessel which supplied them with all necessaries. 
 Not long after, they captured a brigantine, the mate of which 
 joined their association. Having from these two obtained a large 
 supply- they changed their course and watered at Tobago. In- 
 formed, however, that there were two vessels sent in pursuit of 
 them, they went to return their compliments to the Governor of 
 Martinique for this kindness. 
 
 It was the custom of the Dutch interlopers, when they ap- 
 proached this island to trade with the inhabitants, to hoist their 
 jacks. Roberts knew the signal, and did so likewise. They, sup- 
 posing that a good market was near, strove who could first reach 
 Roberts. Determined to do them all possible mischief, he destroyed 
 them one by one, as they came into his power. He only reserved 
 one ship to send the men on shore, and burnt the remainder to the 
 number of twenty. 
 
 Roberts and his crew were so fortunate as to capture several 
 vessels, and to render their liquor so plentiful, that it was esteemed 
 a crime against providence not to be continually drunk. One man, 
 remarkable for his sobriety, along with two others, found an oppor- 
 tunity to set off, without taking leave of their friends. But a des- 
 patch being sent after them, they were brought back, and in a for- 
 mal manner tried and sentenced, but one of them was saved by the 
 humorous interference of one of the judges, whose speech was truly 
 worthy of a pirate, — while the other two suffered the punishment of 
 death. 
 
 When necessity again competed them, they renewed their cruis- 
 ing ; and, dissatisfied with capturing vessels, which only afforded 
 them a temporary supply, directed their course to the Guinea coast 
 to forage for gold. Intoxication rendered them unruly, and the 
 brigantine at last embraced the cover of night to abandon the com- 
 modore. Unconcerned at the loss of his companion, Roberts pur- 
 sued his voyage. He fell in with two French ships, the one of ten 
 guns and sixty-five men, and the other of sixteen guns and seventy- 
 five men. These dastards no sooner beheld the black flag than they 
 surrendered. With these they went into Sierra Leone, constituting 
 
CAPTAIN ROBERTS. 361 
 
 one of them a consort, by the name of the Ranger, and the other 
 a store-ship. This port being frequented by the greater part of 
 the traders to that quarter, they remained here six weeks, enjoying 
 themselves in ail the splendour and luxury of a piratical life. 
 
 After this they renewed their voyage, and having captured a 
 vessel, the greater part of the men united their fortunes with the 
 pirates. After several cruises they went into a convenient harbour 
 at Old Calabar, where they cleaned, refitted, divided their booty, 
 and for a considerable time caroused, to banish care and sober 
 reflection. 
 
 According to their usual custom, the time of festivity and mirth 
 was prolonged until the want of means recalled them to reason and 
 exertion. Leaving this port, they cruised from place to place with 
 varied success; but in all their captures, either burning, sinking, 
 or devoting their prizes to their own use, according to the whim of 
 the moment. The Swallow and another man-of-war being sent out 
 expressly to pursue and take Roberts and his fleet, he had frequent 
 and certain intelligence of their destination ; but having so often 
 escaped their vigilance, he became rather too secure and fearless. 
 It happened, however, that while he lay off Cape Lopez, the Swal- 
 low had information of his being in that place, and made towards 
 him. Upon the appearance of a sail one of Robert's ships was 
 sent to chase and take her. The pilot of the Swallow seeing her 
 coming, manoeuvred his vessel so well, that though he fled at her 
 approach, in order to draw her out of the reach of her associates, 
 yet he at the same time allowed her to overtake the man-of-war. 
 
 Upon her coming up to the Swallow, the pirate hoisted the black 
 flag, and fired upon her ; but how greatly were the crew astonished, 
 when they saw they had to contend with a man-of-war, and seeing 
 that all resistance was vain, they cried out for quarter, which was 
 granted, and they were all made prisoners, having ten men killed 
 and twenty wounded, without the loss or hurt of one of the king's 
 men- 
 
 On the 10th in the morning, the man-of-war bore away to round 
 the cape. Robert's crew, discerning their masts over the land, 
 went down into the cabin to acquaint him of it, he being then at 
 breakfast with his new guest, Captain Hill, on a savoury dish of 
 salmagundy and some of his own beer. He took no notice of it, 
 and his men almost as little, some saying she was a Portuguese 
 ship, others a French slave ship, but the major part swore it was 
 the French Ranger returning; and they were merrily debating 
 for some time on the manner of reception, whether they should 
 
S62 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 salute her or not ; but as the Swallow approached nearer, things 
 appeared plainer; and though they who showed any apprehension 
 of danger were stigmatized with the name of cowards, yet some 
 of them now undeceived, declared it to Roberts, especially one 
 Armstrong, who had deserted from that ship, and knew her well. 
 These Roberts swore at as cowards, who meant to dishearten the 
 men, asking them, if it were so, whether they were afraid to 
 fight or not ? In short, he hardly refrained from blows. What his" 
 own apprehensions were, till she hauled up her ports and hoisted 
 her proper colours, is uncertain; but then, being perfectly con- 
 vinced, he slipped his cable, got under sail, ordered his men to 
 arms without any show of timidity, dropping a first-rate oath, 
 that it was a bite, but at the same time resolved, like a gallant 
 rogue, to get clear or die. 
 
 There' was one Armstrong, as was just mentioned, a deserter 
 from the Swallow, of whom they enquired concerning the trim and 
 sailing of that ship; he told them she sailed best upon the wind, 
 and therefore, if they designed to leave her, they should go 
 before it. 
 
 The danger was imminent, and the time very short, to consult 
 about means to extricate himself ; his resolution in this strait was 
 as follows : to pass close to the Swallow with all her sails, and 
 receive her broadside before they returned a shot; if disabled by 
 this, or if they could not depend on sailing, then to run on shore 
 at the point, and every one to shift for himself among the negroes; 
 or failing in these, to board, and blow up together, for he saw that 
 the greatest part of his men were drunk, passively courageous, 
 and unfit for service. 
 
 Roberts himself made a gallant figure at the time of his engage- 
 ment, being dressed in a rich crimson damask waistcoat and 
 breaches, a red feather in his hat, a gold chain round his neck, with 
 diamond cross hanging to it, a sword in his hand, and two pair of 
 pistols hanging at the end of a silk sling flung over his shoulders, 
 according to the custom of the pirates. 
 
 He is said to have given his orders with boldness and spirit. Com- 
 ing, according to what he had purposed, close to the man-of-war, 
 he received her fire, and then hoisted his black flag and retained 
 it, shooting away from her with all the sail she could pack; and 
 had he taken Armstrong's advice to have gone before the wind, ho 
 had probably escaped; but keeping his tacks down, either by the 
 wind's shifting, or ill steerage, or both, he was taken aback with 
 his sails, arid the Swallow came a second time very nigh to him. 
 
CAPTAIN KENNEDY. «63 
 
 He had now, perhaps, finished the fight very desperately, if death, 
 who took a swift passage in a grape shot, had not interposed, and 
 struck him directly on the throat. He settled himself on tne 
 tackles of a gun; which one Stephenson, from the helm, observing, 
 ran to his assistance, and not perceiving him wounded, swore at 
 him, and bade him stand up and fight like a man ; but when ne 
 found his mistake, and that his captain was certainly dead, he 
 burst into tears, and wished the next shot might be his portion. 
 They presently threw him overboard, with his arms and ornaments 
 on, according to his repeated request in his life-time. 
 
 The prisoners were strictly guarded while on board, and being 
 conveyed to Cape Coast castle, they underwent a long and solemn 
 trial. The generality of them remained daring and impenitent 
 for some time, but when they found themselves confined within a 
 castle, and their fate drawing near, they changed their 'course, 
 and became serious, penitent, and fervent in their devotions. 
 Though the judges found no small difficulty in explaining the law^ 
 and different acts of parliament, yet the facts were so numerous 
 and flagrant which were proved against them, that there was no 
 difficulty in bringing in a verdict of guilty. 
 
 CAPTAIN KENNEDY. 
 
 It was mentioned in the life of Captain Roberts, that, embracing 
 the opportunity of his absence, the crew of the brigantine ran off, 
 and made one Kennedy their captain. This originated from the 
 following cause. Captain Roberts was insulted by one of his crew 
 when drunk, and, in the violence of his passion, killed the inSulter 
 upon the spot. Many in the ship were displeased, but particularly 
 one Jones, the comrade of the man who was slain. When this 
 accident happened, Jones was on land for water, and upon his 
 return, being informed of what had been done, he being a bold 
 active fellow, cursed Roberts, saying that he ought to have been 
 so served himself. Roberts being present, attacked Jones with his 
 sword, and wounded him. Irritated beyond measure by the former 
 and present injury, Jones, though wounded, seized the captain, 
 threw him over a gun, and gave him a severe drubbing. The 
 whole ship was in an instant thrown into violent commotion, some 
 taking part with *he captain, and some applauding tne spirit anri 
 
364 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 bravery of Jones. " If the one had received a dry chastisement, 
 the other had some of his blood shed. Nor was the provocation 
 upon the one side equal to that upon the other. And, with regard 
 to the captain's rank, if he acted inconsistently with his dignity 
 and power, he was not to be exempted from punishment. Such 
 were the sentiments that were agitated among the crew during the 
 tumult. The quarter- master, employing his authority and influ- 
 ence, calmed the tumult, and the majority were of opinion that the 
 majesty of the vessel was insulted in the person of their captain, 
 and that no private member was at liberty to resent any injury 
 received from him in the manner which Jones had done. The 
 majority, therefore, sentenced Jones to receive two lashes from 
 every man in the ship, as soon as his wound should be healed. 
 
 The severity of this sentence did not convince Jones of its equity, 
 and a deep-rooted enmity, and a resolution of revenge, ensuecf. 
 To accomplish his design, Jones, with a few who were of his senti- 
 ments, confederated with Captain Anstis of the brigantine, whom 
 they knew also to be disaffected to Roberts, from the haughty 
 manner in which he behaved. Nor was it merely by his domineer- 
 ing conduct that he irritated Anstis; he was likewise accustomed 
 to leave him nothing but the refuse of the plunder when any prize 
 was taken, though his activity and bravery had perhaps gained 
 the booty. In short, the disaffection became so general, that 
 Lieutenant Kennedy headed the party, and eloped with the priva- 
 teer and the prize, in the absence of Roberts. Kennedy was cho- 
 sen Captain, and a division of sentiments ensued, whether they 
 should retire from that mode of life, or pursue their depredations. 
 But as there was no pardon then issued for pirates, they were con- 
 strained to retain their present character. 
 
 The first act of the new government was to grant liberty to the 
 Portuguese prize. The master was, in their language, a very 
 honest fellow, who, upon his being taken, accosted them, saying 
 that they were welcome to his ship and cargo, and expressed his 
 wish that the vessel had been larger, and the lading richer, for 
 their sakes. In addition to these good wishes, he had given them 
 intelligence of the brigantine after which Roberts had now gone, 
 and though she should never become a prize, yet it had given them 
 an opportunity to move away, without being saluted by the well- 
 known voice of Captain Roberts. In return for all these favours, 
 he received, his ship and men, with his vessel half laden; aiui 
 having expressed his gratitude in the most obliging terms, fa 
 departed. 
 
CAPTAIN KENNEDY. 365 
 
 In the Rover, Captain Kennedy sailed to Barbadoes, and near 
 ihat island met with a very peaceable prize, commanded by captain 
 Knot, a Quaker. There was neither sword, pistol, nor cutlass on 
 ooard. After taking what he found most necessary, he allowed 
 tne placid Quaker to meditate his way home. Meanwhile, eight 
 cf the pirates embraced this opportunity to leave the Rover, and 
 were by him carried to Virginia. During their voyage, they made 
 him handsome presents, and also made several gifts to the saiiors, 
 and lived in a merry and jovial manner all the way, Knot not 
 daring to interrupt them, lest they should run off with him and 
 his vessel. 
 
 When they arrived off the island, four of the pirates went up 
 the bay towards Maryland, and lived among the planters undis- 
 covered. Captain Knot though he could not, according to his 
 principles, fight, could yet deceive and inform. Accordingly, 
 leaving four of the pirates on board, he went to the governor, and 
 informed him of what passengers he had on board. They were 
 instantly seized, and search being made after the other four, they 
 also were found carousing and rambling about the country. Two 
 Portuguese Jews, whom they had captured upon the coast of Brazil, 
 and had brought along with them, were the principal evidences 
 against them. The honest Quaker, at the same time, surrendered 
 to them every thing which belonged to them, and gave them pre- 
 sents in lieu of those they had bestowed upon him and his men. 
 
 Not long after, Kennedy, cruising upon the coast of Jamaica, 
 met with a sloop bound from Boston with bread and flour. Upon 
 this occasion, all those who were disposed to disperse the company 
 went on board, and among the rest Captain Kennedy, — of whom, 
 having been educated as a pick-pocket and house-breaker before 
 he entered the pirate service, his companions now began to enter- 
 tain such a mean conception, that they were about to throw him 
 overboard, saying that he would inform upon them all the moment 
 he arrived in England. By solemn oaths and protestations he, 
 however, assuaged their rage, and they allowed him to accompany 
 them. 
 
 It was their misfortune to have only one man on board who knew 
 any thing of navigation, and even he proved to be a novice. 
 Kennedy was chosen captain on account of his courage and bravery, 
 but he was so ignorant that he could neither read nor write. The 
 pilot was desired to steer towards Ireland, but instead of this, he 
 ran to the north coast of Scotland ; and having been tossed about 
 for several days, they thrust the ship into a creek, and all went on 
 shore, leaving her a prize to any who choie to take her. 
 
SK ENCLISH PIRATES. 
 
 They passed themselves for shipwrecked mariners, refreshed 
 themselves at the first village, and might have passed without 
 detection, had it not been for their unruly and riotous manner of 
 living. Kennedy and another man left them and shipped for Ire- 
 land, where they arrived in safety. A few more separated and 
 went to London ; but the body of the gang continued together, and 
 drinking, rioting and debauchery, alarmed the country. In softie 
 places they treated the whole village, throwing away their money 
 like stones or sand. Continuing their extravagant course, about 
 eighteen of them were apprehended in the vicinity of Edinburgh, 
 and upon suspicion thrown into prison. Two became king's evi- 
 dence, and the rest were tried, condemned, and executed. 
 
 Kennedy having wasted all his money, left Ireland and kept 
 an infamous house in Deptford road. It was also supposed that 
 he occasionally exacted contributions upon the highway. He 
 was exposed to the same misfortune as befalls all those who asso- 
 ciate with persons of abandoned lives and dishonourable princi- 
 ples. One of the females in his house informed upon him as a 
 robber; nor was she disposed to do her work partially, but finding 
 a man whom Kennedy had robbed when a pirate, she took him to 
 visit the latter in Bridewell, where he had been thrown for the 
 robbery. He identified Kennedy, who was committed to the Mar- 
 shalsea prison. 
 
 Kennedy, in order to save his life, turned king's evidence; but 
 though he informed upon eight or ten of his companions, only one 
 could be found, who was a sober man and forced into the service, 
 and therefore pardoned. Kennedy was not so fortunate, but, 
 inasmuch as he had been an old and notorious offender, was con- 
 demned and executed. 
 
 Those who remained in the Rover soon abandoned her upon the 
 coast of the West Indies, and she was found strolling at sea by a 
 sloop near St. Christopher's island. The greater part of the crew 
 met the fate they deserved. 
 
 CAPTAIN WORLEY. 
 
 In a small open boat, with only eight companions, Worley entered 
 upon service. Provided with six old muskets, and corresponding 
 ammunition, with a few biscuits, one or two dried tongues, and a 
 keg of water they left New York in September, 1718, and sailec 
 
UAPTAIN WORLEY. 36V 
 
 towards Delaware river. Though the distance is about fifty miles, 
 tney met with no prey, so they went up the river as far as Newcas- 
 tle. Near this place they captured a shallop with household goods 
 and plate, and having emptied her of every thing valuable, they 
 permitted her to depart. As this was not done upon the high seas, 
 it could not be construed piracy. The shallop conveyed the 
 intilligence to New York, which alarming government, several 
 vessels were fitted out to go in quest of this formidable rover. But 
 he was not yet destined to be taken; for, after several days cruis- 
 ing, the government vessels returned without their prize. 
 
 In sailing down the river, Worley met with a sloop bound for 
 Philadelphia, and quitting his own shallop, he and his men went 
 on board the sloop, and increased their strength by the hands 
 which were in her. In a few days they took a sloop homeward 
 bound for Hull, with all manner of provisions, which enabled them 
 to undertake some bolder scheme. 
 
 Upon the success of these pirates, the government issued a 
 proclamation for apprehending all pirates who refused to surrender 
 upon a specified day. To follow out the intention of this procla- 
 mation, a vessel of twenty guns was fitted out to cruise upon the 
 coast, and to protect the trade. Informed of this, Worley and his 
 men stood out to sea. In their cruise, they captured a sloop and a 
 brigantine; the former they sunk, as she belonged to New York, 
 and might inform upon them; and they permitted the other to 
 prosecute her voyage. 
 
 Worley was now in reality become formidable. He had tw r enty- 
 five men, six guns, plenty of small arms, and a good vessel. 
 Accordingly, he assumed a more systematic plan, hoisted black 
 colours, formed certain regulations, and swore every man to stand 
 to his colours, and receive no quarter. 
 
 They now went into an inlet, in North Carolina to clean their 
 vessel; and the government receiving intelligence of their being 
 in that place, two sloops, one of eight and another of six guns, 
 manned with seventy men, were sent in search of them. Worley 
 was gone before they arrived, but, tracing his course, they dis- 
 covered him off the Capes of Virginia. Upon the supposition that 
 they were two vessels intending to enter St. James's river, Worley 
 hastened to get between them and that entrance of the river, in 
 order to secure his prize. The inhabitants of St. James's Town, 
 supposing that all three were pirates, and that they would land to 
 plunder and destroy the country, the governor ordered all the vessels 
 to haul into the shore, unless they thought that they were in a 
 
368 £NCiLiSH URATES. 
 
 situation to fight the pirates. He beat to arms, collected all the 
 force that could be mustered, erected a temporary battery with the 
 guns of the ships, and put the island in a posture of defence. But 
 to their surprise they soon saw what they imagined to be pirates 
 fighting with each other. 
 
 Meanwhile, as Worley was waiting at the entrance of the river, 
 with the black colours flying, to seize the two vessels as they 
 approached, to his sad mortification they hoisted king's colours, 
 and fired a gun. Thus he found, that, instead of entrapping others, 
 he himself was entrapped and hemmed in by a superior force. 
 Agreeably to their engagements to each other, the pirates deter- 
 mined to conquer or die. 
 
 The two sloops gave him a broadside, and immediately boarded, 
 the one upon the quarter, the other upon the bow. Worley and 
 his men drew up on deck, and fought it hand to hand, in a most 
 desperate manner. They were true to their oath; not a man 
 called for quarter, and many were slain before they could be over- 
 come ; not one survived, except the captain and another man, who 
 were both severely wounded. They were brought on shore in irons, 
 and, lest they should have died of their wounds, were hanged the 
 following day, in the month of February, 1719. Thus, Worley's 
 beginning was bold and desperate, his course short and prosperous, 
 and his end bloody and disgraceful. 
 
 CAPTAIN LOWTHER. 
 
 George Lowther sailed from the Thames, in the character of 
 second mate, in the Gambia Castle of sixteen guns and thirty 
 men, belonging to the African Company. There were a number 
 of soldiers under the command of John Massey, intended to gar- 
 rison a fort which was destroyed by Captain Dawson. 
 
 The Gambia Castle arrived safe, and landed Massey and his 
 men; but the military power was overruled by the merchants and 
 traders. To them it belonged to victual the garrison, and, being 
 scanty in their allowance, Massey was highly offended, and re- 
 monstrated in terms more suitable to his feelings than their 
 interests. He boldly declared, that he had brought these brave 
 men here under the assurance that they were to have plenty of 
 provisions, and to be treated in the most huniaue manner ; the~e- 
 
CAPTAIN LOWTHBR. "ft? 
 
 fore, if they were not so treated, he should be under the necessity 
 of consulting for himself. 
 
 The Governor was then sick, and, for his better accommodation, 
 was taken on board the Gambia Castle. During this period, the 
 captain being offended with George Lowther, his second mate, 
 ordered him to be punished. The men interfered in behalf of 
 Lowther, and the captain was disobeyed. Lowther and Massey 
 having become intimate during the voyage, they now aggravated 
 their grievances to each other, and the result of their consulta- 
 tion was to seize the ship, and sail for England. 
 
 When matters were ripe for execution, Lowther sent a letter to 
 Massey, informing him, " that he must repair on board, as it was 
 now time to put their design into execution." Massey then ha- 
 rangued the soldiers in the barracks, saying, " You that have a 
 mind to go to England, now is the time." They in general 
 agreed, and when all things were ready he sent the boat off with 
 this message to the chief mate, " That he should get the guns 
 ready, for that the King of Barro would come on board to dinner." 
 Lowther knew the meaning; confined the chief mate, and pre- 
 pared to sail. In the afternoon, Massey came on board with the 
 governor's son, having almost emptied the storehouses, and dis- 
 mounted the guns of the fort. 
 
 The captain of the Gambia Castle, having gone on shore to hold 
 a council with the governor and others, was not permitted to come 
 on board. He called to Lowther and his associates, and offered 
 them what terms they chose, to restore the ship ; — but all in vain. 
 They put the governor's son on shore, with three others who did 
 not choose to go along with them, and immediately sailed. 
 
 Scarcely were they out at sea, when Lowther addressed them to 
 the following effect : " That it was the greatest folly imaginable 
 to think of returning to England; for that what they had already 
 done could not be justified upon any pretence whatever, but would 
 be looked upon by the government as a capital offence, and none 
 of them were in a condition to withstand the attacks of such power- 
 ful adversaries as they would meet with at home. For his part, 
 he told them he was determined not to run such a hazard; and 
 therefore, if his proposal was not agreed to, he desired to be set 
 on shore in some place of safety; that they had a good ship under 
 them, a parcel of brave fellows in her ; that it was not their busi- 
 ness to starve or be made slaves ; and therefore, if they were ail 
 of his mind, they would seek their fortunes upon the seas, as 
 otner adventurers had done before them." The crew was unani- 
 
 B B 
 
8W ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 mous, knocked down the cabins, prepared black colours, an" 
 named the ship " The Delivery." She was mounted with sixteen 
 guns, and had fifty hands on board. 
 
 To enforce order, and to provide for the stability of this govern- 
 ment, several articles were drawn up, signed, and sworn to ; and 
 they soon began their operations, by capturing a vessel belonging 
 to Boston, which, having emptied her stores, they allowed to 
 depart. 
 
 Proceeding to Hispaniola, the Delivery met with a French vessel 
 laden with wine and brandy. In the character of a merchant, 
 Captain Massey went on board, viewed the liquors, and offered a 
 price for the greater part of them, which was not accepted. But 
 after a while he whispered in the Frenchman's ear, " that they must 
 have them all without money." The captain understood his mean- 
 ing, and with no small reluctance agreed to the bargain. They 
 took out of her about seventy pounds, besides thirty casks of 
 brandy, five hogsheads of wine, several pieces of chintzes, and 
 other valuable goods. Lowther returned five pounds to the French- 
 man for his civility. 
 
 But this commonwealth was soon to experience the effects of 
 discord. Massey had been trained a soldier, and was solicitous to 
 move in his own sphere ; he therefore proposed to land with fifty 
 or sixty men, and plunder the French settlements. Lowther re- 
 presented the rashness, imprudence, and impracticability of such 
 an adventure. Massey remained absolute in his determination. 
 It became necessary to decide the matter by a reference to the 
 community. A great majority were of the opinion of Lowther. 
 But though overruled, Massey was not convinced, so became frac- 
 tious and quarrelled with Captain Lowther. The men also were 
 divided; some were land pirates, and some sea pirates, and ere 
 long, they were prepared to decide the matter with the sword. 
 
 But employment terminated dissension. The man at the mast- 
 head cried, "a sail! a sail!" In a few hours, they came up with 
 her, and found that she was bound for England. They supplied 
 themselves with necessaries, and took a few hands out of her. 
 Lowther proposed to sink her and all the passengers on board, but 
 Massey interfered, and prevented this cruel action. Accordingly, 
 she was permitted to depart, and arrived safe in England. 
 
 The next day they captured a small sloop, and detained her. 
 Massey still remaining uneasy, and declaring his resolution to 
 leave the Delivery, Lowther proposed that he and all those who 
 were of his sentiments would go on board the sloop which they hnH 
 
CAPTAIN LOWTHER. S71 
 
 just taken, and seek their own fortunes. This was instantly agreed 
 to, and Massey with ten more went on board, and sailed directly 
 for Jamaica. With a bold countenance he went to the governor, 
 and informed him that he had assisted in running off with the ves- 
 sel; but his object was to save the lives of His Majesty's subjects, 
 and that his express design was to land them in England; that in 
 opposition to this determination, Lowther and the majority were 
 for becoming pirates; and that he had embraced the first oppor- 
 tunity to leave them, and surrender himself, his men, and his ves- 
 sel to his excellency. 
 
 Massey was kindly received, and sent along with Captain Laws 
 to cruise in quest of Lowther, but not finding him, returned to 
 Jamaica, received certificates of his surrender, and came home a 
 passenger to England. When he came to town, he wrote a nar- 
 rative of the whole matter to the African Company, who returned 
 him for answer, " That he should be fairly hanged." He was 
 accordingly seized, and, upon his own letter, the evidence of the 
 late captain of the ship, who had been left at the fort, the gover- 
 nor's son, and some others, he was condemned to end his course 
 at Tyburn. 
 
 Lowther cruising off Hispaniola, captured a small ship from 
 Bristol and a Spanish pirate. He rifled and burned both ships, 
 sending the Spaniards away in their launch, and constraining the 
 Englishmen to turn pirates. In a few days they took another 
 sloop, which they manned and carried along with them, and then 
 harboured at the small island to clean. Here they spent their 
 time more like demons than men, in all manner of debauchery, 
 drunkenness, and rioting. 
 
 Having again set to sea, they met with Edward Low, a pirate, 
 in a small vessel with thirteen hands; and, upon the request of 
 Lowther, he united his strength with theirs. Lowther retaining 
 the command, and Low becoming Lieutenant. 
 
 Proceeding on their voyage, they met with a vessel of two 
 hundred tons, called the Greyhound, commanded by Benjamin 
 Edwards. Piratical colours were hoisted, and she was commanded 
 to strike. The captain declined, — an engagement ensued, but 
 finding the pirates too strong for him, he surrendered. Instead of 
 treating the captain and his men with generous lenity, they beat 
 them in a merciless manner, drove them on board their own ship, 
 and then set fire to it. 
 
 In their course they took several other ships, rifled and dismissed 
 them; but two they fitted up for their own service. With this 
 
372 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 small fleet: viz. Admiral Lowther in the Happy Delivery; Captain 
 Low in the Rhode Island sloop; and Captain Harris (who was 
 second mate in the Greyhound) in a sloop formerly belonging to 
 Jamaica,— they sailed to Port Mayo in the gulf of Matique, and 
 made preparations to clean their vessels: with this view they made 
 tents of their sails, stored their provisions in tent also, and then 
 commenced their operations. But scarcely were they at wo*k, 
 when a body of the natives came down upon them, drove them to 
 their ships, seized their tents and stores, and set fire to the Delivery, 
 which was stranded on shore. Lowther and his men now went on 
 board the largest sloop, called the Ranger, and left the other at sea. 
 They were soon reduced to great want, and commotion ensued; but 
 when they had got to the West Indies, they took a prize, which 
 supplied their wants, and having sunk her, sailed for America. 
 
 They, in a short time, captured a brigantine, and the compauy 
 being divided in their sentiment^ Low and those who were of his 
 views, got on board the prize, and went off, while those who agreed 
 with Lowther remained in the Ranger. On his way to the main 
 land of America, Lowther took several ships with very little resis- 
 tance, but upon the coast of South Carolina he met with a ship 
 bound for England. An engagement took place, and Lowther 
 was so hard pressed, that he was under the necessity of running 
 aground, and landing his men; but when the captain of the Eng- 
 lish vessel had taken the boat in order to burn the pirate ship, a 
 bullet from the pirates on shore put an end to his life, which so 
 discouraged his men, that they returned to their vessel. 
 
 After their departure, Lowther got off his sloop, though in a 
 very shattered condition, having suffered much in the engagement, 
 and many of his men having been killed or wounded. With no 
 small difficulty he went to an inlet in North Carolina, where he 
 remained during the winter. 
 
 In spring he again took to sea, steered to Newfoundland, took 
 several vessels of similar importance, and in his way to the West 
 Indies captured a brigantine, plundered her, took two men into 
 their own ship, and sent her off. Having cruised a considerable 
 time, it was necessary to clean, and for that purpose he went into 
 the isle of Blanco. While they were keenly employed in this work, 
 the Eagle sloop, belonging to the South Sea Company, with thirty- 
 five men, attacked Lowther, and constrained bin to cry for quarter. 
 While they were surrendering, Lowther and twelve of the crew 
 escaped out of the cabin-window, and fled to the woods. Five of 
 them were taken, but the rest remained upon the island. 
 
CAPTAIN SPRIGGS. 373 
 
 Informed of this meritorious action on the part of the sloop, the 
 Spanish government condemned the ship to the crew of the Eagle, 
 and sent a small sloop to the island with twenty-five men to search 
 the woods for the other pirates. Three others were found, but 
 Captain Lowther with three men and a boy escaped. As the captain 
 was afterwards found dead with a pistol beside him, it is supposed 
 that in desperation he had shot himself. 
 
 The Eagle sloop brought the prisoners to St. Christopher's, where 
 they were all tried in March, 1722: three were acquitted, eleven 
 found guilty, and two recommended to mercy. 
 
 CAPTAIN SPRIGGS 
 
 Sailed with Lowther for some time, and left him in company with 
 Low. He was quarter-master, and consequently had a large share 
 in all the barbarities of that execrable crew. He quarrelled with 
 Low concerning one of the men who had killed another; Spriggs 
 insisting that he should be hanged, and the other that he should not. 
 After this dispute, Spriggs took an opportunity to leave him in the 
 night, along with eighteen men, having seized upon the Delight, 
 a prize of twelve guns. 
 
 Scarcely were they beyond the reach of Lowther and his crew, 
 when Spriggs was elected captain, black colours hoisted, and the 
 guns fired as a salute to themselves and their captain. In their 
 way to the West Indies they took a Portuguese bark, laden with 
 rich plunder, and after using the men in a cruel and barbarous 
 manner, they put them into the boat with a small quantity of pro- 
 visions, and set the ship on fire. 
 
 They took another vessel belonging to Barbadoes, which they 
 plundered, used the men also in a most barbarous manner, then 
 put them into the boat, left them to the mercy of the waves, and 
 set fire to the ship. Some of the men signed their articles, and 
 joined their association. The next capture was a ship from Mar- 
 tinique, and though they did not burn the vessel, the men were 
 used in the same cruel manner. Some days after, they took one 
 coming from Jamaica, robbed her of stores, arms, ammunition, 
 and every thing they pleased, and what they did not think useful, 
 they threw overboard. They forced the two mates and several other 
 hands into their service, and then sent her off. They were not 
 
374 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 more fortunate in gaining prizes, than they were wantonly cruel 
 to the men. A sloop from Rhode Island fell into their hands: they 
 constrained all the men to join them, but the mate, being a grave 
 sober man, resolutely declined. He was then informed that he 
 should be allowed to go with his discharge written upon his back, — 
 this was a lash from every man in the ship, which was rigorously 
 put in execution. % 
 
 The next day one of the mates taken out of the prize signed 
 their articles, which was deemed a great acquisition, for he was a 
 good artist. They gave three huzzas, fired all the guns, and ap- 
 pointed him master. The day was devoted to feasting and carous- 
 ing, and, among other healths, that of George II. was drunk. It 
 had been related to them that the old king was dead, and they 
 expected a general pardon upon the accession of the new sovereign. 
 Thus they proclaimed his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, 
 saying, that " they doubted not but there would be a general par- 
 don in twelve months, which they would embrace, and come in 
 upon ; but if they should be excepted from it, they would murder 
 every Englishman that should fall into their hands." 
 
 Not long after, they espied a sail, and gave her chase. They 
 supposed that she was a Spaniard, and so gave her a broadside. 
 But a lamentable cry for quarters being heard from every part of 
 the ship, they ceased firing. How mortified, however, were the 
 rogues, when they found that it was the same vessel that they had 
 sent away not worth a penny. Enraged at this disappointment, 
 about fifteen of these cruel wretches attacked the captain with 
 sharp cutlasses, and would certainly have put an end to his life, 
 had not Burridge, his former mate, rushed in among the thickest 
 of them, and begged for his life. In the madness of their rage, 
 they made a bonfire of the ship, and even when they went down 
 to supper, they called down the unfortunate captain, to have some 
 more cruel sport at his expence. In two days they anchored at an 
 uninhabited island, and, with a musket and some ammunition sent 
 on shore the captain and several of his men, who subsisted there 
 for some time, and were then taken off by one Jones. 
 
 Spriggs now anchored at a small island and cleaned, and then 
 sailed in search of the Eagle sloop, which had taken Lowther at 
 Blanco, with the determined resolution to put the captain to death 
 as soon as found, for attacking his friend and brother. But a ves- 
 sel which he pursued under the impression that it was the Eagle 
 sloop, to his surprise proved to be a French man-of-war, on which 
 bnrtgga crowded all the sail he could: he would, however, have 
 
CAPTAIN ROCHE. 375 
 
 been taken, had not the main topmast of the Frenchman been 
 broken. 
 
 Spriggs then sailed northward, captured a schooner belonging to 
 Boston, took out the men, sunk the vessel, and having taken 
 another sloop, used the men in the most cruel and barbarous man- 
 ner, hoisting them as high as the main and fore-tops, and letting 
 them fall upon the deck. After serving them in this manner, they 
 whipped them about the deck until they themselves were fatigued, 
 and then allowed all of them to go except two men. 
 
 They next captured a vessel from Rhode Island with provisions 
 and some horses. The brutal pirates mounted the horses and 
 rode at full gallop upon the deck, cursing, swearing, and holloo- 
 ing, until the animals became infuriated, and threw their riders. 
 They then wreaked their vengeance upon the men, cutting and 
 beating them in a barbarous manner, and telling them it was for 
 bringing horses without boots and spurs, for want of which they 
 were not able to ride them. In this manner these unnatural 
 wretches continued their cruelties as long as they could maintain 
 community, to the disgrace of human nature, and to the sad sor- 
 row of all who were so unfortunate as to fall into their hands. 
 
 CAPTAIN ROCHE. 
 
 This man was a native of Ireland, and was trained up to the sea. 
 When arrived at manhood, he was concerned with some others in 
 insuring ships to a great value, and then destroying them. From 
 a fore-mast man he was raised to be a mate in a vessel that traded 
 between Ireland and France. In this situation he acquired a com- 
 fortable subsistence, and might have passed his days in respecta- 
 bility and usefulness; but the love of money, which has often 
 proved the origin of ruin, excited him to abandon the path of 
 honesty. 
 
 Having formed the design of becoming pirate, he communicated 
 the same to one Neal, a fisherman at Cork, an ignorant and des- 
 perate villain. Neal enticed one Peter Cullen and his brother into 
 the confederacy, and also one Francis Wise. They directed their 
 attention to a French vessel lying in the harbour, Peter Tartoue 
 captain, because there were few hands in her, and, though she 
 was not suitable for the pirate service, yet they hoped soon to be 
 able to exchange her for one more convenient for their purpose. 
 
376 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 Accordingly, in November, 1721. all things being concerted, 
 ihey entered passengers on board her, bound for Nantz; and 
 Roche being an experienced sailor, the master often trusted him 
 with the care of the vessel, while he and the mate went to rest. 
 Upon one of these occasions, Roche and his confederates embraced 
 the opportunity to effect their cruel purpose. The mind of Francis 
 Wise began to relent, and he endeavoured to dissuade them fftm 
 their nefarious design. Roche was however determined, and said, 
 that he and Cullen had suffered great losses at sea, and were re- 
 solved to have them repaired ; and if there were any fisherman 
 there who would not join in killing the French rogues, and run- 
 ning away with the vessel, he should certainly share their fate ; 
 but on the contrary, if they stood true, they should partake of the 
 booty. 
 
 Upon this they all agreed. Meanwhile, Roche commanded 
 three of the Frenchmen and a boy to hand the top-sails. The 
 two who first came down were knocked on the head, and thrown 
 overboard ; upon seeing this, the other two ran up to the top-mast 
 head. Cullen followed, threw the boy into the water, and driving 
 down the other man, he was immediately despatched. Those who 
 were sleeping below being aroused by the tumult, and the shrieks 
 of expiring men, rushed up; but before they could apprehend 
 their danger, they were bound together, and, imploring mercy, 
 were also thrown overboard. They were now, as Roche himself 
 confessed, all over as wet with the blood that had been spilt, as if 
 they had been dipped in water, or stood in a shower of rain; nor 
 did they regard it with any other feeling. 
 
 This horrible massacre being finished, Roche was made captain, 
 Cullen was to assume the character of a merchant, and the name 
 of Peter Roche was inserted in the papers of the ship. In vain 
 they endeavoured to obtain a few hands from a vessel, under the 
 pretence that some of their men had been swept overboard. By a 
 storm they were constrained to put into Dartmouth in England, 
 and set men to work to alter the form of the vessel, so that she 
 should not be known ; and in order to obtain money to pay the 
 workmen, they disposed of several barrels of beef which were in 
 the ship. 
 
 They next steered their course for Rotterdam, and disposed of 
 the remaining part of the cargo. From this port they freighted 
 for England, by one Annesly, a merchant, who went passenger 
 aiong with them. But these execrable villains, in a stormy night, 
 threw biia overboard. He swam long round the ship, and en- 
 
CAPTAIN GOW. 377 
 
 treated them to spare his life, and all his goods should be at their 
 disposal, but they remained unmoved by his entreaties and cries. 
 
 They were afterwards under the necessity of coming to the coast 
 of France, and received the intelligence that inquiry had been 
 made after them. Roche abandoned the vessel to Cullen, and 
 went on shore. Cullen having obtained some more hands, sailed 
 for Scotland, and then left the vessel, which was afterwards carried 
 into the Thames. 
 
 Roche came to London, and while endeavouring to recover some 
 money under a feigned name, was arrested, examined, and prov- 
 ed to be the person who had run off with the French vessel. At- 
 tempting to turn king's evidence, Neal and Cullen were discovered ; 
 but, from the cruelty of his conduct, Roche was brought to trial, 
 condemned, and executed at Tyburn, in the 30th year of his age. 
 He was an active genteel man, and under a comely person con- 
 cealed a black and savage disposition. His whole life was a scene 
 of villainy and murder, and he was alike prepared for the com- 
 mission of every cruelty. 
 
 CAPTAIN GOW 
 
 Gow sailed from Amsterdam, in July, 1714, on board the George 
 galley for Santa Cruz, where they took in bee's-wax. Scarcely 
 had they sailed from that place, when Gow and several others, who 
 had formed a conspiracy, seized the vessel. One of the conspirators 
 cried, " There is a man overboard." The captain instantly ran to 
 the side of the vessel, when he was seized by two men, who 
 attempted to throw him over; he however so struggled, that he 
 escaped from their hands. One Winter, with a knife, attempted 
 to cut him in the throat, but missing his aim, the captain was yet 
 saved. But Gow, coming forward, shot him through the body, 
 and he was then cast into the sea. The conspirators proceeded to 
 murder all who were not in their horrid plot, which being done, 
 James Williams came upon deck, and striking one of the guns with 
 his cutlas, saluted Gow in the following words : " Captain Gow, 
 you are welcome, welcome to your command." Williams was 
 A^clared second lieutenant, and the other officers being appointed, 
 the captain addressed them, saying : " If, hereafter, I see any of 
 you whispering together, or if any of you refuse to obey my orders, 
 
378 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 let every such man depend upon it, that he shall certainly go the 
 same way as those that are just gone before." 
 
 Their first prize was the Sarah Snow, of Bristol. After they 
 had rilled the vessel and received one man from it, they allowed 
 her to prosecute her voyage. The Delight, of Poole, was the next 
 vessel that fell into their hands; but they not long after captured 
 two others, from one of which they received a quantity of fish, Ad 
 from the other bread, beef, and pork. They also forced two men 
 from the latter ship. A French ship, not long after, furnishea 
 them with wine, oil, figs, oranges and lemons, to the value of 500/. 
 In a short time after, they captured their last prize, and, as she 
 made no resistance, they plundered and dismissed her. 
 
 They next sailed for the Orkney Isles to clean, but were appre- 
 hended by a gentleman of that country, brought up to London, 
 and tried before a Court of Admiralty, in May, 1725. When the 
 first indictment was read, Gow obstinately refused to plead, for 
 which the Court ordered his thumbs to be tied together with whip- 
 cord. The punishment was several times repeated by the execu- 
 tioner and another officer, they drawing the cord every time till it 
 broke. But he still being stubborn, refusing to submit to the court, 
 the sentence was pronounced against him, which the law appoints 
 in such cases; that is, " That he should be taken back to prison, 
 and there pressed to death.'* The gaoler was then ordered to con- 
 duct him back, and see that the sentence was executed the next 
 morning; meanwhile, the trials of the prisoners, his companions, 
 went forward. 
 
 But the next morning, when the press was prepared, pursuant 
 to the order of the Court the day before, he was so terrified with 
 the apprehension of dying in that manner, that he sent his humble 
 petition to the Court, praying that he might be admitted to plead. 
 This request being granted, he was brought again to the bar, and 
 arraigned upon the first indictment, to which he pleaded, Not 
 guilty. Then the depositions that had been given against the other 
 prisoners were repeated, upon which he was convicted, and received 
 sentence of death accordingly, which he suffered in company with 
 Captain Weaver and William Ingram. 
 
 The stories of these two men are so interwoven with others, that 
 it will be impossible to distinguish many of their particular actions. 
 They were, however, proved to have been concerned, if not the 
 principal actors, in the following piracies : first, The seizing a 
 Dutch ship in August, 1722, and taking from thence a hundred 
 pieces of Holland, value 800/. : a thousand pieces of eight, vu*u« 
 
CAPTAIN JOHN UPTON. 379 
 
 250/. Secondly, The entering and pillaging the Dolphin of Lon- 
 don, William Haddock, out of which they got three hundred 
 pieces of eight, value 75/.; forty gallons of rum, and other things, 
 on the twentieth of November in the same year. Thirdly, the 
 stealing out of a ship called the Don Carlos, Lot Neekins master, 
 four hundred ounces of silver, value 100/. fifty gallons of rum, 
 value 30*. a thousand pieces of eight, a hundred pistoles, and other 
 valuable goods. And fourthly, the taking from a ship called the 
 England, ten pipes of wine, value 250/. The two last charges 
 both in the year 1721. Weaver returned home, and came to Mr. 
 Thomas Smith, at Bristol, in a very ragged condition ; and pre- 
 tending that he had been robbed by pirates, Smith, who had been 
 acquainted with him eight or nine years before, provided him with 
 necessaries, and he walked about unmolested for some time. But 
 Captain Joseph Smith, who knew him when a pirate, one day met 
 him, and asked him to go and take a bottle with him ; when they 
 were in the tavern he told him he had been a considerable sufferer 
 by his boarding his vessel, — " Therefore," said he, " as I under- 
 stand that you are in good circumstances, and plenty of cash, 
 I expect that you will make me some restitution ; which if 
 you do, I will never hurt a hair of your head, because you wers 
 very civil to me when I was in your hands." But as this re 
 compense was never given, Weaver was apprehended and exe 
 cuted. 
 
 Ingram was also a very hardened fellow, and one of the most 
 forward in all their exploits. 
 
 CAPTAIN JOHN UPTON 
 
 Was born at Deptford, of honest but poor parents, who gave nim 
 an education such as their circumstances could afford. He served 
 an apprenticeship to a waterman upon the river. In the character 
 of boatswain, quarter-master, and other inferior offices, he served 
 on board different men-of-war. After the death of his wife, he 
 found sundry demands made upon him, and several actions raised, 
 for which he was in danger of being arrested; he therefore went 
 on board the John and Elizabeth merchantman, bound for Bona- 
 vista in Newfoundland. 
 
 When he arrived there he wat discharged, and served a oianter 
 
380 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 during a year for the sum of 181. He next went a passenger to 
 Boston, and from thence made a voyage to the Bay of Honduras. 
 He then went on board the Perry galley, bound to Barbadoes 
 and Bristol. At Barbadoes the ship was delivered and loaded 
 again, and set forward to England. The Perry galley in her 
 voyage home was taken by a pirate, and Upton was constrained 
 to enter along with them. 
 
 The pirate carried the Perry galley to the island of Ruby, and 
 in a short time they captured a Dutch sloop. Upton and some 
 others were put on board that sloop, and embracing an oppor- 
 tunity, escaped, carrying off the sloop. He left the pirate service, 
 and after moving from place to place, was at last pressed on board 
 his Majesty's ship the Nottingham, where he remained until he 
 was accused of piracy, and brought home for trial. 
 
 Upon the trial it was proved, that he had entered with the 
 pirates, signed their articles, been active in their exploits, and 
 received a share of their plunder ; that he had advised to burn the 
 Perry galley, with her captain and mate in her; and that he had 
 made a cat-o'nine-tails, with which the mate received 200 lashes. 
 He was condemned, and at the age of 50 years suffered as a 
 pirate. 
 
 CAPTAIN EDWARD LOW. 
 
 This ferocious villain was born in Westminster, and received an 
 education similar to that of the common people in England. He 
 was by nature a pirate; for even when very young he raised con- 
 tributions among the boys of Westminster, and if they declined 
 compliance, a battle was the result. When he advanced a step 
 farther in life, he began to exert his ingenuity at low games, and 
 cheating all in his power; and those who pretended to maintain 
 their own right, he was ready to call to the field of combat. 
 
 He went to sea in company with his brother, and l" II tinned 
 with him for three or four years. Going over tc America, he 
 wrought in a rigging-house at Boston for some time. He then 
 came home to sec his mother in England, returned to Boston, and 
 continued for some years longer at the same business. But being 
 of a quarrelsome temper, he differed with his master, and went ou 
 board a sloop bound for the Bay of Honduras. 
 
CAPTAIN EDWARD LOW. 381 
 
 While there, he had command of a boat employed in bringing 
 logwood to the ship. In that boat there were twelve men well 
 armed, to be prepared for the Spaniards, from whom the wood was 
 taken by force. It happened one day that the boat came to the 
 ship just a little before dinner was ready, and Low desired that 
 they might dine before they returned. The captain, however, 
 ordered them a bottle of rum, and requested them to take another 
 trip, as no time was to be lost. The crew were enraged, particu- 
 larly Low, who took up a loaded musket and fired at the captain, 
 but missing him, another man was shot, and they then ran off 
 with the boat. The next day they took a small vessel, went on 
 board her, hoisted a black flag, and declared war with the whole 
 world. 
 
 In their rovings, Low met with Lowther, who proposed that he 
 should join him, and thus promote their mutual advantage. We 
 have already related their adventures as long as they remained in 
 company. Having captured a brigantine, Low, with forty more, 
 went on board her; and leaving Lowther, they went to seek their 
 own fortune. 
 
 Their first adventure was the capture of a vessel belonging to 
 Amboy, out of which they took the provisions, and allowed her 
 to proceed. On the same day they took a sloop, plundered her, 
 and permitted her to depart. The sloop went into Black Island, 
 and sent intelligence to the governor that Low was on the coast. 
 Two small vessels were immediately fitted out, but, before their 
 arrival, Low was beyond their reach. After this narrow escape, 
 Low went into port to procure water and fresh provisions; and then 
 renewed his search of plunder. He next sailed into the harbour of 
 Port Rosemary, where were thirteen ships, but none of them of any 
 great strength. Low hoisted the black flag, assuring them that if 
 they made any resistance they should have no quarter ; and manning 
 their boat, the pirates took possession of every one of them, which 
 they plundered and converted to their own use. They then put on 
 board a schooner ten guns and fifty men, named her the Fancv, 
 and Low himseK went on board of her, while Charles Harris was 
 constituted captain of the brigantine. They also constrained a 
 few of the men to join them, and sign their articles. 
 
 After an unsuccessful pursuit of two sloops from Boston, they 
 steered for the Leeward Islands, but in their way were overtaken 
 by a terrible hurricane. The search for plunder gave place to the 
 most vigorous exertion to save themselves. On board the brigan- 
 tine, ail hands were at work both day ana night; they were under 
 
382 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 the necessity of throwing overboard six of her guns, and all the 
 weighty provisions. In the storm, the two vessels were separated, 
 and it was some time before they again saw each other. 
 
 After the storm, Low went into a small island west of the Car- 
 ribbees, refitted his vessels, and got provisions for them in ex- 
 change of goods. As soon as the brigantine was ready for sea, 
 they went on a cruise until the Fancy should be prepared, and 
 during that cruise, met with a vessel which had lost all her masts 
 in the storm, which they plundered of goods to the value of 1000/. 
 and returned to the island. When the Fancy was ready to sail, 
 a council was held what course they should next steer. They follow- 
 ed the advice of the captain, who thought it not safe to cruise 
 any longer to the leeward, lest they should fall in with any of the 
 men-of-war that cruised upon that coast, so they sailed for the 
 Nores. 
 
 The good fortune of Low was now singular; in his way thither 
 he captured a French ship of 34 guns, and carried her along with 
 him. Then entering St. Michael's roads, he captured seven sail, 
 threatening with instant death all who dare to oppose him. Thus, 
 by inspiring terror, without firing a single gun, he became master 
 of all that property. Being in want of water and fresh provisions, 
 Low sent to the governor demanding a supply, upon condition of 
 releasing the ships he had taken, otherwise he would commit them 
 to the flames. The request was instantly complied with, and six 
 of the vessels restored. But a French vessel which was among 
 them, they emptied of her guns and all her men, except the cook, 
 who, they said, being a greasy fellow, would fry well; they ac- 
 cordingly bound the unfortunate man to the mast, and set the ship 
 on fire. 
 
 The next who fell in their way was Captain Carter, in the Wright 
 galley ; who, because he showed some inclination to defend himself, 
 was cut and mangled in a barbarous manner. There were also two 
 Portuguese friars, whom they tied to the foremast, and several 
 times let them down before they were dead, merely to gratify their 
 f*Vfn ferocious dispositions. Meanwhile, another Portuguese, be- 
 holding this cruel scene, expressed some sorrow in his countenance, 
 upon which one of the wretches said he did not like his looks, and 
 so giving him a stroke across the body with his cutlass, he fell upon 
 the spot. Another of the miscreants, aiming a blow at a prisoner, 
 missed his aim, and struck Low upon the under jaw. The surgeon 
 was called, and stitched up the wound; but Lowfinding fault with 
 the operation, the surgeon gave him a blow which broke all the 
 
CAPTAIN EDWARD LOW. 383 
 
 stitches, and left him to sew them himself. After he had plundered 
 this vessel, some of them were for burning her, as they had done 
 the Frenchman : but instead of that, they cut her cables, rigging 
 and sails to pieces, and sent her adrift to the mercy of the waves. 
 
 They next sailed for the island of Madeira, and took up a fish- 
 ing-boat with two old men and a boy. They detained one of 
 them, and sent the other on shore with a flag of truce, requesting 
 the governor to send them a boat of water, else they would hang 
 the other man at the yard-arm. The water was sent, and the man 
 dismissed. 
 
 They next sailed for the Canary Islands, and there took several 
 vessels ; and being informed that two small galleys were daily ex- 
 pected, the sloop was manned and sent in quest of them. They 
 however, missing their prey, and being in great want of provision, 
 went into St. Michael's in the character of traders, and being 
 discovered, were apprehended, and the whole crew conducted to 
 the castle, and treated according to their merits. 
 
 Meanwhile, Low's ship was overset upon the careen and lost, so 
 that, having only the Fancy schooner remaining, they all, to the 
 number of a hundred, went on board her, and set sail in search of 
 new spoils. They soon met a rich Portuguese vessel, and after 
 some resistance captured her. Low tortured the men to constrain 
 them to inform him where they had hid the treasures. He accord- 
 ingly discovered that, during the chase, the captain had hung a 
 bag with eleven thousand moidores out of the cabin window, and 
 that, when they were taken, he had cut the rope, and allowed it 
 to fall into the sea. Upon this intelligence, Low raved like a fury, 
 ordered the captain's lips to be cut off and broiled before his eyes, 
 then murdered him and all his crew. 
 
 After this bloody action, the miscreants steered northward, and 
 seized several vessels, one of which they burned, and plundering 
 the rest, allowed them to proceed. Having cleaned in one of the 
 islands, they then sailed for the bay of Honduras. They met a 
 Spaniard coming out of the bay, which had captured five English- 
 men and a pink, plundered them, and brought away the masters 
 prisoners. Low hoisted Spanish colours, but when he came nearer, 
 hung out the black flag, and the Spaniard was seized without re- 
 sistance. Upon finding the masters of the English vessels in the 
 hold, and seeing English goods on board, a consultation was held, 
 when it was determined to put all the Spaniards to the sword. 
 This was scarcely resolved upon, when they commenced with every 
 species of weapons to massacre every man, and some flying from 
 
381 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 their merciless hands into the waves, a canoe was sent in pursuit 
 of those who endeavoured to swim on shore. They next plundered 
 the Spanish vessel, restored the English masters to their respective 
 vessels, and set the Spaniard on fire. 
 
 Low's next cruise was between the Leeward Islands and the 
 main land, where, in a continued course of prosperity, he succes- 
 sively captured no less than nineteen ships of different sizes, and 
 generally treated their crews with a barbarity unequalled even 
 among pirates. But it happened that the Greyhound, of twenty 
 guns and one hundred and twenty men, was cruising upon that 
 coast. Informed of the mischief these miscreants had done, the 
 Greyhound went in search of them. Supposing they had discovered 
 a prize, Low and his crew pursued them, and the Greyhound 
 allowing them to run after her till all things were ready to engage, 
 turned upon the two sloops. 
 
 One of these sloops was called the Fancy, and commanded by 
 Low, and' the other the Ranger, commanded by Harris; and both 
 hoisted their piratical colours, and fired each a gun. When the 
 Greyhound came within musket shot, she hauled up her mainsail, 
 and clapped close upon a wind, to keep the pirates from running 
 to leeward, and then engaged. But when the rogues found whom 
 they had to deal with, they edged away under the man-of-war's 
 stern, and the Greyhound standing after them, they made a run- 
 ning fight for about two hours ; but little wind happening, the 
 sloops gained from her, by the help of their oars ; upon which the 
 Greyhound left off firing, turned all hands to their own oars, and 
 at three in the afternoon came up with them. The pirates hauled 
 upon a wind to receive the man-of-war, and the fight was imme- 
 diately renewed, with a brisk fire on both sides, till the Ranger's 
 mainyard was shot down. Under these circumstances, Low aban- 
 doned her to the enemy and fled. 
 
 The conduct of Low was surprising in this adventure, because 
 his reputed courage and boldness had hitherto so possessed the 
 minds of all people, that he became a terror even to his own men ; 
 but his behaviour throughout this whole action showed him to be a 
 base cowardly villain; for had Low's sloop fought half so briskly 
 as Harris's had done (as they were under a solemn oath to do,) 
 the man-of-war, in the opinion of some present, could never have 
 hurt them. 
 
 Nothing, however, could lessen the fury, or reform the manners 
 of that obdurate crew. Their narrow escape had no good effect 
 upon them, and with redoubled violence they renewed their depre- 
 
Page 385. 
 
PAUL JONES. 385 
 
 ilations aud cruelties. The next vessel they captured, was eighty 
 miles from land. They used the master with the most wanton 
 cruelty, then shot him dead, and forced the crew into the boat with 
 a compass, a little water, and a few biscuits, and left them to the 
 mercy of the waves; they, however, beyond all expectation, got 
 bafe to shore. 
 
 Low proceeded in his villainous career with too fatal success. 
 Unsatisfied with satiating their avarice and walking the common 
 path of wickedness, those inhuman wretches, like to Satan himself, 
 made mischief their sport, cruelty their delight, and the ruin and 
 murder of their fellow men their constant employment. Of all 
 the piratical crews belonging to the English nation, none ever 
 equalled Low in barbarity. Their mirth and their anger had the 
 same effect. They murdered a man from good humour, as well as 
 from anger and passion. Their ferocious disposition seemed only 
 to delight in cries, groans, and lamentations. One day Low hav- 
 ing captured Captain Graves, a Virginia man, took a bowl of 
 punch in his hand, and said, " Captain, here's half this to you." 
 The poor gentleman was too much touched with his misfortunes to 
 be in a humour for drinking, he therefore modestly excused himself. 
 Upon this Low cocked and presented a pistol in one hand, and 
 his bowl in the other, saying, " Either take the one or the other." 
 
 Low next captured a vessel called the Christmas, mounted her 
 with thirty-four.guns, went on board her himself, assumed the title 
 of admiral, and hoisted the black flag. His next prize was a 
 brigantine half manned with Portuguese, and half with English. 
 The former he hanged, and the latter he thrust into their boat and 
 dismissed, while he set fire to the vessel. The success of Low was 
 unequalled, as well as his cruelty; and during a long period he 
 continued to pursue his wicked course with impunity. 
 
 PAUL JONES. 
 
 AnAnGLAND, in the Stewartry of Kirkenbright, in Scotland, was 
 the birth-place of the celebrated John Paul, where he was born in 
 July, 1747. His father, John Paul, was a gardener, and the first 
 years of his life were passed in the manner usual amongst persons 
 of his station. But we gather from the recollection of persons still 
 tuive I hat he very early evinced a predilection for the sea, and that 
 
 
3*r> ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 whilst yet a youth, he was engaged in mercantile speculations o( a 
 very extensive character. How the son of a gardener, who had 
 received no other education than that of a parochial school, could 
 launch out thus early into commercial traffic, may at first seem a 
 startling question. A probable solution may perhaps be worked 
 out, by tracing or endeavouring to trace, the cause, hitherto un- 
 assigned, of his se^-bamshment from his own country. In the 
 neighbourhood of his native place, it is supposed that his daring 
 spirit, with his irrepressible love for the sea, recommended him to 
 some persons engaged in a contraband traffic with the western 
 colonies. The extent and precise character of these operations 
 have not transpired, bit this association is assigned as the origin 
 of his hatred to this country — other accounts, more definite, and 
 probably more authentic, state that he was bound apprentice £o a 
 merchant in the American trade, that his first introduction* to 
 America was by that means, and that not till his apprenticeship 
 had expired, did he enter into those connections from which he 
 suffered so much injury; that for some few years subsequent to the 
 termination of his apprenticeship his time was passed chiefly on 
 the sea, and that he visited many parts of Europe and America — 
 that this was the time at which he sustained his losses, in conse- 
 quence of which, whether from compulsion or disgust, he withdrew 
 into inactive retirement. Be this as it may, the death of his brother 
 in 1773, who left no will, called him to Virginia, to arrange his 
 affairs : about this time, he added Jones to his name. 
 
 The spirit which, previously to the assertion of their independ- 
 ence, impelled the Americans to construct a fleet for reprisals on 
 England, found a responsive echo in the breast of Paul Jones; 
 his love of the sea, his appetite for adventure, his smothered am- 
 bition for fame, burst out afresh, and supported by a boiling 
 indignation at the conduct of the English, drove him forth from 
 his obscurity. On the 22nd of December, 1775, he was made a 
 lieutenant of the newly-formed American navy. The haste \Wth 
 which this navy was fitted out, the little judgment exercised in th * 
 selection of officers, and the great want of naval experience in 
 both officers and men, together with the excitement of the occa- 
 sion, and their imperfect discipline, were influences, the combined 
 operation of which had very nearly rendered unnecessary any ex- 
 ertions on the part of their enemy. Their first attack on the 
 New Providence, one of the Bahama isles, failed in consequence 
 of the governor having the night before sent away the military 
 stores which they intended to seize ; and the fight which they iiau 
 
PAUL JONES. 387 
 
 Bhortly after with a British man-of-war somewhat resembled the 
 puny efforts of an infant engaged with a full-grown man. Sick- 
 ness also at this time so lessened their numbers, that scarcely 
 one of the vessels had its compliment of men ; and to increase 
 the dilemma, nearly all the seamen had, in obedience to the 
 urgency of the national call, entered the land service, and were 
 at that time acting as soldiers. The discomfiture of their fleet by 
 a single British vessel excited much dissatisfaction, and brought 
 down reproach and obloquy on the heads of the officers. The 
 circumstance of the fight were subjected to judicial examination ; 
 the result of which, as respects our hero, was his promotion to 
 the command of the Providence. Paul Jones's superiority in 
 personal courage and energy of mind was evident, and was 
 promptly rewarded : in fact, he seems to have been at that time 
 almost the only officer who entertained enlarged views of the 
 constitution of the navy, or possessed a scientific skill in naval 
 tactics. He always in after-life professed himself to have entered 
 the service for philanthropic motives, and it must be acknow- 
 ledged that he studied the principles of his profession with the 
 ardour and perseverance of enthusiasm. To raise the American 
 navy to the glorious eminence of acknowledged superiority was 
 certainly to him an ever present object of ambition; but it may 
 be very fairly questioned, if his motives for fighting against his 
 own country were so purely philanthropic as he declared, or as 
 he perhaps believed. His philanthropic indignation at the ty- 
 ranny and oppression of the colonies by the mother country, has 
 been said to have been not unmixed with rancour and revenge 
 for private injuries, and a malignant spirit of injustice which 
 would wreak revenge on a whole nation for the offences of private 
 individuals. His skill and idomitable courage were, nevertheless, 
 quite equal to the accomplishment of his object; and had he not 
 been thwarted by the narrow-minded jealousy of his brother 
 officers. Dutch, French, and American, the whole British nation 
 would have bitterly rued the unfair dealings of his early con- 
 nexions. But he very soon found that his desires far exceeded 
 his power of action ; for, whether Congress overlooked his claims 
 to promotion, or whether envy and jealousy was already at work, 
 or whether he overrated his merits, or from some other cause, 
 he was not appointed to the command of either of the thirteen 
 frigates built by the Congress in the beginning of 1776, which 
 caused him much mortification. One thing, however, rebounds 
 unquestionably to his credit as a man, and tends in some degree 
 
388 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 to confirm the assertion that his views were disinterested; in thii 
 and all subsequent cases of private mortification and disappoint- 
 ment, he never suffered himself to be checked in his exertions 
 to promote the wellfare of his adopted country. Whilst yet the 
 pain of neglect continued, his thoughts were chiefly directed to 
 the improvement of the American navy, and his letters of this 
 date to the Hon. Mr. Morris contain most valuable advice. 
 He had sense enough to perceive the folly of affecting to scorn 
 " the best regulated navy in the world," and he earnestly 
 recommended that the American navy should be modelled after 
 that of England, but that (the Americans) should " aim at such 
 further improvements as may one day make ours vie with and 
 exceed theirs." 
 
 In a short cruise of a few weeks in September and October, 
 of the year 1776, he was very successful, taking sixteen sail, 
 eight of which he destroyed. He then planned an expedition 
 against the Newfoundland fishery, the probable failure of which, 
 in consequence of his men quitting his service for that of pri- 
 vateers, drew from him a powerful letter to Mr. Morris, in 
 which he complains of an insufficiency of the individual emo- 
 lument to be derived from the service in the navy, and warns 
 him that unless the advantages of the public service be made 
 superior to those of private, the American navy M never can 
 become respectable — never will become formidable; and without 
 a respectable navy, alas, America!" He adverts also, in the 
 same letter, to the mediocre abilities of the naval officers, and 
 shows that efficient officers cannot be secured, but by the estab- 
 lishment of a Board of Admiralty. 
 
 Towards the latter end of this year he fell in, whilst cruising, 
 with the Solebay frigate of 23 guns, and the Mitford of 32 guns. 
 Jones's vessel, the Providence, was a sloop with but 12 six- 
 pounders, but he escaped from the Solebay, after a sharp action 
 of several hours, and from the Mitford without any contest at all. 
 At the end of the year, he received a captain's commission and 
 was appointed to the command of a squadron in Rhode Island, 
 destined for an attack on Isle Royal, on his way to which he 
 captured the Mellish, an armed vessel from Liverpool, containing 
 10,000 suits of uniform intended for the army of General Bur- 
 goyne. The value and importance of this prize were much en- 
 hanced by the fact that Washington's army was at this time des- 
 titute of clothing. By this and other prizes of which he made 
 a considerable number during this voyage, Junes'* leputatiou 
 
PAUL JONES. 389 
 
 was much increased. His now elevated rank and formal com- 
 mission added weight to his opinions, or at least warranted him in 
 advancing them more freely ; accordingly, he now devoted him- 
 self more particularly to the improvement of every thing con- 
 nected with the navy. Many of these suggestions have since 
 been acted upon, and his advice followed on a very extensive 
 scale. In the year 1777, M as a reward for the zeal he had shown, 
 and for the signal services which he had performed with little 
 force," Jones was despatched to the American Commissioners in 
 Paris, with an order that they should " invest him with the com- 
 mand of a fine ship.'* 
 
 But the ardour and daring activity of Paul Jones longed for 
 some signal achievement, the very mention of which should fill 
 the Americans with hope and courage, and the English with 
 despair and dismay. He accordingly sent in a communication 
 r o the Secret Committee, requesting that he might be sent to 
 Europe for the purpose of attacking the coasts of England. 
 The committee wisely deemed that the man who could project 
 such a plan, could carry it in execution; they therefore laid aside 
 the former design and immediately appointed him to the Ranger, 
 leaving him at large to act for himself, where he found the great- 
 est chance of success. This was the mode of operation best suited 
 to Jones's character; so fearless was his daring, and so perse- 
 vering his courage, that his intrepidity was construed by many 
 into hot-headed rashness, and his " expeditions" into proposals 
 for valorous self-destruction : his prudence, however, and skill 
 were equal to his boldness, and a thorough knowledge of his char- 
 acter would have suggested the possibility, that if left to himself 
 with sufficient means, he would attempt and succeed in projects 
 of daring, from the mere contemplation of which most men would 
 shrink. Such was his proposal for carrying the war to the very 
 shores of the English, of showing them, as he said, " that not 
 all their boasted navy can protect their own coasts, and that the 
 scenes of distress which they have occasioned in America, may 
 soon be brought home to their own door." Jones had been the 
 first who hoisted the standard of American Independence, and 
 now was tne first to hoist the Union flag (thirteen stars, white in 
 a blue field,) and had the honour of the first salute which the 
 American flag ever received from a foreign power : Count D'Or- 
 villiers, who was with the French fleet under his command at 
 Brest when the Ranger arrived there, being the earliest to bestow 
 it. Jones's first object was to make a descent upon Whitehaven. 
 
390 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 Having therefore, matured his plans, he sailed from Brest on the 
 10th of April, 1778. The weather for some days proved unfavour- 
 able, but he continued beating about the coast, and to prevent 
 any information of his approach sank all the craft he met. Seeing 
 the Drake, a ship of 20 guns, at anchor in the roads near Car- 
 rickfergus, he determined to attack her in the night, but the 
 wind, and some accident to his own vessel, prevented him. 
 
 At last, he fixed the 22nd for the descent upon Whitehaven. 
 The term descent would be applied to the movement of an army 
 upon a town, and is apt to excite the idea of large numbers and 
 implements of war; but here the reader must exclude from his 
 mind all these accessaries, and merely imagine a handfull of men, 
 attempting the sudden destruction of more than two hundred ships, 
 and a town of sixty thousand inhabitants. % 
 
 The weather became so calm the night before his intended enter- 
 prize, that Jones could not bring the Ranger so near the shore as 
 he wished ; at midnight, he therefore left the ship with two boats 
 and thirty-one volunteers. The day dawned before he reached the 
 out pier, but this did not deter him from proceeding. He sent 
 lieutenant Wallingford with the combustibles to the north side of 
 the harbour, and turned his own boat to the southern. Impressed 
 with the vastness of their undertaking, they scaled the walls, 
 Jones at their head. They surprized and secured the sentinels, 
 who were all shut up in the guard-house, and deliberately spiked 
 the cannon of the first fort. This done, Jones, with but one man, 
 spiked all the cannon of the southern fort, distant from the other 
 a quarter of a mile. Having accomplished this, he now, with 
 intense anxiety, looked for the expected blaze on the north side of 
 the harbour. His suspense was the more painful, since the other 
 party had all the combustibles; at last, fearing some accident had 
 occurred, he pulled over to the northern side, and found the whole 
 party in confusion, their light having burnt out the very instant 
 when it became necessary. Nor was Jones's party able to remedy 
 the evil, for their lights also were out: thus by a most untoward 
 accident they were suddenly rendered powerless when they were 
 on the point of accomplishing this most stupendous undertaking. 
 Disappointed, perplexed, wasting time, each moment of which 
 might bring destruction on their heads — what was to be done? 
 Any other than the leader of this party would have been content 
 with cursing fate, and securing a safe return to his ship. Not so 
 Jones — his coolness and presence of mind were at all times equal 
 to the difficulties which might interrupt the progress of his plans. 
 
PAUL JONES. 391 
 
 He dispatched a man to a house to beg a light, with which the 
 unsuspecting inmate supplied him; the light was obtained, and a 
 fire soon blazed in the steerage of a ship that was surrounded by 
 at least a hundred and fifty others, chiefly from two to four hundred 
 tons burthen. Day had advanced so far, that there was not time 
 to fire more than one ; all his care, therefore, was 10 prevent that 
 from being extinguished, to effect which a barrel of tar was hunted 
 up and thrown upon the fire. The flames now blazed through all 
 the hatchways, and caught the attention of the inhabitants, who 
 suddenly appeared in immense numbers. Some attempted to ap- 
 proach, but Jones placed himself between them and the burning 
 ship, and with a pistol in his hand, commanded them to retire, a 
 command which, much to the credit of their discretion — thatbetter 
 part of valour they instantly obeyed. The sun had now risen a 
 full hour, and it was time to retreat. Jones says in a letter, " After 
 all my men had embarked, I stood upon the pier for a considerable 
 time, yet no person advanced; I saw all the eminences around the 
 town covered with the enraged inhabitants. When we had rowed 
 to a considerable distance from the shore, the English began to 
 run in vast numbers to their forts. Their disappointment may be 
 easily imagined, when they found at least thirty cannon the instru- 
 ments of their vengeance rendered useless. At length, however, 
 they began to fire; having, as I apprehend, either brought down 
 ship guns, or used one or two cannon which lay on the beach at 
 the foot of the walls, dismantled, and which had not been spiked. 
 They fired with no direction, and the shot falling short of the boatc, 
 instead of doing any damage, afforded us some diversion, which 
 my people could not help showing by firing their pistols, &c. in 
 return of the salute. Had it been possible to have landed a few 
 hours sooner, my success would have been complete ; not a single 
 ship out of more than two hundred could possibly have escaped, 
 and all the world would not have been able to have saved the town. 
 — I was pleased that in this business we neither killed nor wounded 
 any person ; I brought off three prisoners as a sample." 
 
 The town, it appears, was indebted for its safety not to the 
 advance of the day, or to the alarm-fire of the burning vessel, 
 but to the timely warning of one of Jones's men, whose heart 
 sank within him at the thought of aiding in so terrible a work of 
 destruction. The " Cumberland Pacquet extraordinary," for 
 April 23rd, (the day after the attack,) states that " A little after 
 three o'clock this morning a man rapped at several doors in Marl- 
 borough-street, (adjoining one of the piers) and informed that fire 
 
392 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 naa been set to one of the ships in the harbour ; that matches 
 were laid in several others; that the whole would soon be in a 
 blaze, and the town also destroyed ; that he was one belonging 
 to the crew, but had escaped for the purpose of saving, if possible, 
 the town and shipping from destruction." 
 
 The news of the descent traversed the country with the speed 
 of the wind: all England was struck with amazement and terror. 
 Every measure of defence was adopted, that fear of instant inva- 
 sion could suggest. Meetings were held, companies formed by 
 subscriptions; strangers arrested; look-out vessels stationed at 
 every port; forts everywhere repaired, and guns made ready for 
 service. Thus but for the humanity of one of his crew, Paul 
 Jones would have made the English feel in their own homes the 
 dreadful evils of the war they were so eagerly carrying to rtie 
 shores of another country. Wild and extravagant as the project 
 might seem at first, to the resolute bravery of our hero its execu- 
 tion was easy. That their own coasts were open to attack, that 
 a small part of a single ship's crew would attempt in a couple of 
 open boats the destruction of a town and its whole harbour of 
 shipping, were ideas that had not, and there is but a bare possi- 
 bility that they could have, entered into the heads of our country- 
 men. The fact once known, however, they were all activity and 
 watchfulness. 
 
 One principal object which Jones had at heart was to effect, 
 by some means, the liberation, or at least to alleviate the suffer- 
 ings, of the American prisoners: for this purpose, he was anxious 
 to seize the persons, if possible, of some men of importance, and 
 either secure an exchange or check the cruelties inflicted on the 
 Americans. He did not, as might have been anticipated, withdraw 
 precipitately from the neighbourhood of Whitehaven, and thus 
 evade attempts to destroy him, which he must have expected would 
 be the immediate consequence of a knowledge of his daring 
 attack on that town. Trusting to his own resources for his own 
 defence, he, with characteristic judgment, chose rather to avail 
 himself of the interval to attempt a second exploit, scarcely 
 inferior to the other in hardihood, and in one point of view re- 
 bounding much more to his honour, inasmuch as it evidenced that 
 in him the rooted hostility of the warrior had not extinguished or 
 diminished the urbanity of the gentleman. 
 
 At noon of the very morning on which he had roused the inha- 
 bitants of Whitehaven with an alarm almost as dreadful, and 
 quite as little dreamed of, as their being rolled out of their bedi 
 
PAUL JONES. 393 
 
 by an earthquake, Jones landed with a boat's crew on St. Mary's 
 Isle, on which was the family seat of the Earl of Selkirk, whom 
 he intended to make prisoner, hoping thereby to effect an ex- 
 change, or at least, through the Earl's influence, to soften the 
 rigouts exercised on the American prisoners. But before he 
 reached the house, he learned that the Earl had lately left St. 
 Mary's for the metropolis. The accomplishment of his purpose 
 being therefore impracticable, he was about to return as gently 
 as he came; to which his boat's crew quickly opposed themselves, 
 declaring that they could not see why they should not follow the 
 example of the English, who in America spared neither life nor 
 property : booty at least they considered their right. These men 
 being the same who had volunteered on the perilous service of the 
 morning, he deemed it prudent to attend to their solicitations; 
 but to shew his disinclination for such excursions of plunder, he re- 
 tired to the vessel, leaving the men under the command of the 
 lieutenant, with a strict injunction that the most scrupulous polite- 
 ness should be observed. That " there is honour amongst thieves" 
 has long been acknowledged, when their force is sufficient to ren- 
 der resistance absurd, and they have no fear of interruption ; that 
 is, if they have time, they can plunder with the most gentlemanly 
 politeness. So it was on this occasion; the delicacy of their cap- 
 tain penetrated the rough breasts of the tars, and under its influ- 
 ence they became sensible of the impropriety of thrusting their 
 uncouth awkwardness into the presence of the Countess of Selkirk. 
 They accordingly, with becoming modesty, refrained from enter- 
 ing the mansion, and deputed the lieutenant to convey to the Coun- 
 tess, with as much delicacy as possible, their moderate request, 
 that she would favour them with the use of the family plate. The 
 Countess received the officer with firmness and dignity, the request 
 was not of a nature to be refused, and the lieutenant very shortly 
 conveyed to the longing arms of his men the family plate of the 
 house of Douglas. 
 
 The next day, as Paul Jones was meditating an entrance into 
 Carrickfergus, he saw the Drake working out of the harbour, ac- 
 companied by some smaller vessels filled with persons who wished 
 to be spectators of the destruction of the terrible Paul Jones and 
 his crew. Jones was eager for the fight, but the tide prevented the 
 Drake from coming within trail, which the Ranger suffered her to 
 do, till late in the afternoon. When near *enough, the English 
 hailed, demanding what name, &c. The answer was " The Ame- 
 rican ship Ranger ; we wait for you, and desire that you will come 
 
394 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 on ; the sun is now little more than one hour from setting, it is 
 therefore time to begin." The action was hot, close, and obstinate. 
 The rigging of the Drake was cut to pieces, her masts and yards 
 very much torn, and her hull seriously injured. The captain re- 
 ceived a ball in his head, and died just after the boarding of his 
 ship, and his lieutenant survived him but two days. The Drake's 
 crew suffered the more from the number of its crew, but the Ran- 
 ger's comparatively little. Jones, however, lost his lieutenant. 
 
 The consternation produced in the minds of the English by this 
 defeat was indescribable, as it was to them inexplicable. The 
 rapid succession of Jones's exploits: the descent on Whitehaven, 
 the landing at St. Mary's, the capture of the Drake, overwhelmed 
 the public mind with terror, which exhibited itself in the usual 
 form of extravagant reports. Paul Jones was one night seen Off 
 all parts of the coast. There was a universal bustle of defensive 
 preparations, companies of volunteers were formed, old forts re- 
 paired, and new ones erected. 
 
 Jones now released three fishermen whom he had seized, and 
 whose craft he had sunk on the twenty-first, giving them a good 
 boat to go on shore, and money enough to repurchase all they had 
 lost: this generosity left Jones without a guinea in his pocket. 
 As soon as the vessels were fit, he steered for Brest, rejoicing 
 certainly in the extent, of his success, but still convinced, that had 
 there been more discipline among the crew, had the officers set an 
 example of proper subordination,, he might have accomplished 
 much more. But the American navy was in its infancy, and, 
 whether Paul Jones's courage was too reckless for them, or whether 
 their American spirit of equality could not brook the absolute 
 authority of a sea captain, or whether Jones was too strict a disci- 
 plinarian, we know not; but this spirit of insubordination rose to 
 such a height, that Lieutenant Simpson, Jones's first lieutenant, 
 whom he had appointed to the command of the Drake, chose to 
 consider himseU equal to Jones, and refused to obey his signals. 
 On the arrival of the ships at Brest, Paul Jones put the refractory 
 lieutenant under arrest for disobedience of orders. Here too he 
 wrote a letter to the Countess of Selkirk, which it is but due to his 
 memory as a man that we should give at full length. 
 
 " Ranger, Brest, 8th May, 1788. 
 u Madam, 
 " It cannot be too much lamented, that in the profession of armr, 
 the officer of fine feelings and real sensibility should be under t\ e 
 
PAUL JONES. 395 
 
 necessity of winking at any action of persons under his command, 
 which his heart cannot approve; but the reflection is doubly severe 
 when he finds himself obliged, in appearance, to countenance such 
 acts by his authority. 
 
 " This hard case was mine, when on the 23rd of April last I 
 landed on St. Mary's Isle. Knowing Lord Selkirk's interest with 
 the King, and esteeming as 1 do his private character, I wished to 
 make him the happy instrument of alleviating the horrors of hope- 
 less captivity, when the brave are overpowered and made prisoners 
 of war. 
 
 " It was, perhaps, fortunate for you Madam, that he was from 
 home; for it was my intention to have taken him on board the 
 Ranger, and to have detained him, until, through his means, a 
 general and fair exchange of prisoners, as well in Europe as in 
 America, had been effected. When 1 was informed by some men 
 whom I met at landing, that his lordship was absent, I walked 
 back to my boat, determined to leave the island. By the way, 
 however, some officers who were with me could not forbear express- 
 ing their discontent, observing that, in America, no delicacy was 
 shown by the English, who took away all sorts of moveable 
 property, setting fire not only to towns, and to the houses of the 
 rich without distinction, but not even sparing the wretched hamlets 
 and milch-cows of the poor and helpless at the approach of an 
 inclement winter. That party had been with me the same morning 
 at Whitehaven, some complaisance therefore was their due. I had 
 but a moment to think how I might gratify them, and at the same 
 time do your ladyship the least injury. I charged the two officers 
 to permit none of the seamen to enter the house, or to hurt any 
 thing about it; to treat you, Madam, with the utmost respect; to 
 accept of the plate which was offered, and to come away without 
 making a search, or demanding any thing else. 
 
 " I am induced to believe that I was punctually obeyed, since I 
 am informed that the plate which they brought away is far short of 
 the quantity expressed in the inventory which accompanied it. I 
 have gratified my men; and when the plate is sold, I shall become 
 the purchaser, and will gratify my own feelings by restoring it to 
 you, by such conveyance as you shall please to direct. 
 
 " Had the Earl been on board the Ranger the following evening, 
 he would have seen the awful pomp and dreadful carnage of a sea- 
 engagement; both affording ample subject for the pencil, as well 
 as melancholy reflection for the contemplative mind. Humanity 
 
3% ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 starts back from such scenes of horror, and cannot sufficient^ 
 execrate the vile promoters of this detestable war. 
 
 ' For they, 'twas they, unsheath'd the ruthless blade, 
 And Heaven shall ask the havock it has made.* 
 
 " The British ship of war Drake, mounting twenty guns, with 
 more than her full complement of officers and men, was our op- 
 ponent. The ships met, and the advantage was disputed with 
 great fortitude on each side, for an hour and four minutes, when 
 the gallant commander of the Drake fell, and victory declared in 
 favour of the Ranger. The amiable lieutenant lay mortally wounded, 
 — a melancholy demonstration of the uncertainty of human pros- 
 pects, and of the sad reverse of fortune which an hour can produce. 
 I buried them in a spacious grave, with the honours due to t£e 
 memory of the brave. 
 
 " Though I have drawn my sword in the present generous strug- 
 gle for the rights of men, yet I am not in arms as an American, 
 nor am I in pursuit of riches. My fortune is liberal enough, hav- 
 ing no wife or family, and having lived long enough to know that 
 riches cannot ensure happiness. I profess myself a citizen of the 
 world, totally unfettered by the little mean distinctions of climate 
 or of country, which diminish the benevolence of the heart and 
 set bounds to philanthropy. Before this war began, I had at the 
 early time of life withdrawn from the sea service, in favour of ! calm 
 contemplation and poetic ease.' I have sacrificed not only my fa- 
 vourite scheme of life, but the softer affections of my heart, and 
 my prospects ol domestic happiness, and I am ready to sacrifice 
 my life also with cheerfulness, if that forfeiture could restore peace 
 and good-will among mankind. 
 
 " As the feelings of your gentle bosom cannot but be congenial 
 with mine, let me entreat you, Madam, to use your persuasive art 
 with your husband, to endeavour to stop this cruel and destructive 
 war, in which Britain can never succeed. Heaven can never coun- 
 tenance the barbarous and unmanly practice of the Britons in 
 America, which savages would blush at, and which, if not discon- 
 tinued, will soon be retaliated on Britain by a justly enraged peo- 
 ple. Should you fail in this, (for I am persuaded that you will 
 undertake it: and who can resist the power of such an advocate?) 
 your endeavours to effect a general exchange of prisoners will be 
 an act of humanity, which will afford you golden feelings on a 
 death-bed 
 
PAUL JONES. 397 
 
 " I hope this cruel contest will soon be closed ; but should it con- 
 tinue, I wage no war with the fair. I acknowledge their force, and 
 bend before it with submission. Let not, therefore, the amiable 
 Countess of Selkirk regard me as an enemy ; I am ambitious of 
 her esteem and friendship, and would do any thing, consistent with 
 my duty, to merit it. 
 
 " The honour of a line from your hand, in answer to this, will 
 lay me under a singular obligation; and if I can render you any 
 acceptable service in France or elsewhere, I hope you see into my 
 character so far as to command me without the least grain of reserve. 
 
 " I wish to know exactly the behaviour of my people, as I am 
 determined to punish them if they have exceeded their liberty. I 
 have the honour to be, with much esteem and with profound respect, 
 Madam, &c. &c. 
 
 " John Paul Jones." 
 
 " To the Countess of Selkirk." 
 
 This gallant epistle received no reply for some months, when 
 Lord Selkirk wrote to say, that if the plate was restored by the order 
 of Congress, or of some public body, he would accept it, and en- 
 deavour to make suitable returns for the favour; but if its restitu- 
 tion were to be an act of private generosity, he could by no means 
 accept it. Accordingly, in March 1780, Jones addressed another 
 letter to the Countess, stating, that Congress had given order for 
 the restoration of the plate to its owners, and informing her in 
 whose hands it then lay, waiting her directions for its removal. 
 
 Such was Paul Jones's style of warfare; but though his splendid 
 achievements obtained for him unbounded applause, both in Ame- 
 rica and France, he was exposed to much difficulty and annoyance 
 from not receiving timely and sufficient supplies of money. At one 
 time, very shortly after his feats in the Channel, he was thrown 
 entirely upon his own resources, for the support and clothing of his 
 crew, the maintenance of two hundred prisoners of war, the heal- 
 ing of the sick and wounded, and the refitting of his shattered ves- 
 sel. Of this he complained bitterly, not so much on his own private 
 account, but because of the discredit it necessarily brought on the 
 cause in which he was engaged, for his limited means could not be 
 kept secret. He suffered much also from the jealousy of the officers 
 of the French navy, who harboured a rancorous envy of his supe- 
 riority, without any desire to emulate it. He remained for some 
 time in compulsory inactivity, having been refused even the favor 
 of accompanying Count d'Orvilliers as a volunteer, which he was 
 
3»8 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 desirous of doing, for the sake of increasing his nautical knowledge 
 and experience. At last, finding all other efforts ineffectual, he 
 addressed a long letter to the King of France, in consequence of 
 which it was determined to appoint Jones to the command of the 
 Duras, forty guns, with unlimited orders. In compliment to Dr. 
 Franklin, he obtained permission to alter the name from Duras to 
 Bon Homme Richard, referring to " Poor Richard's Almanack" 
 published by Dr. Franklin. To the Bon Homme Richard were 
 added the Alliance, thirty-six guns; Pallas, thirty guns; Cerf, 
 eighteen guns; and the Vengeance, twelve guns, and Jones was 
 made Commodore of the squadron. Le Fayette was to accompany 
 him with seven hundred military ; but he was retained to assist in 
 the operations of a projected general invasion of England! The 
 squadron, therefore, sailed without him, on the 19th of April 177Q. 
 Nothing of importance occurred during the first three months of 
 the cruise, except that the Alliance, Captain Landais, ran foul of 
 the Bon Homme Richard one night in a very suspicious manner. 
 This Captain Landais was a captious, ill-tempered, narrow-minded, 
 envious man, who looked with no friendly eyes on Paul Jones, did 
 all he could to show that he considered himself independent of the 
 Commodore, paid no attention to signals, disobeyed orders, and 
 ultimately parted company. Jones subsequently took two prizes 
 from the Firth of Edinburgh, from which he learned that a king's 
 ship and two or three cutters were lying at anchor in Leith Road. 
 " in a state of indolent security." He intended to surprise them, 
 but was prevented in part by the hesitation of the French officers 
 of the Pallas and Vengeance, and partly by a storm: in short, the 
 squadron, to the bitter mortification of Jones, was very near re- 
 turning, though not empty-handed, yet without acquiring any new 
 glory: but early on the morning of the 22nd of September, Jones 
 perceived a fleet steering towards him : it, soon, however, retreated, 
 on which he made signal for a pilot. The pilot imagining the Bon 
 Homme to be an English ship, communicated all the information 
 Jones wanted, telling even their private signal. Jones then endea- 
 voured to decoy the ships out of port by the use of the signal, but 
 as the tide was adverse, they declined moving. The entrance to 
 the Humber is exceedingly dangerous, and the Pallas not being 
 in sight, Jones stood off to Flamborough-head, where he expected 
 to meet the Pallas. In the course of the night he chased two ves- 
 sels, and about three in the morning, being close upon them, he 
 made the private American signal : not receiving any answer, he 
 continued the chase, and at daybreak discovered they were the 
 
PAUL JONES. 39* 
 
 Alliance ki\d Pallas. Insulting as this conduct was, and often as 
 it was repeated on the part of Landais, Jones uniformly maintained 
 a dignified moderation, which compels us to recognise in him a 
 rare and noble magnanimity of soul. 
 
 On me morning of the 23rd, a fleet of forty-one sail appeared 
 off Flamborough head, and Jones hoisted the signal for a general 
 chase. The merchantmen, observing the American squadron bear- 
 ing down upon them, made directly for the shore; the two convoys 
 steered for the open sea, and prepared for battle. These two were 
 the Serapis, and the Countess of Scarborough. The Alliance paid 
 no attention to the signals from the Bon Homme, and Jones could 
 not come up with the Serapis till seven in the evening, when com- 
 menced one of the fiercest naval engagements which history has 
 recorded. The Serapis was a new ship, of forty-four guns ; her 
 crew picked men ; and her commander Captain Richard Pearson, 
 celebrated for skill and courage. Except as regarded her captain, 
 the Bon Homme was in all respects the very contrary of the Sera- 
 pis. The vessel was old, the timbers unsound, some of the guns 
 worn out, and the crew a heterogeneous medley of six nations : — 
 Americans, French, English, Maltese, Portuguese, and Malays. 
 Add to which, the Bon Homme had not her full complement of 
 men, two boats' crews having been lost on the coast of Ireland, 
 and a third boat's crew Jones had sent away to seize a brigantine. 
 The decided superiority of the Serapis over the Bon Homme was 
 evident to all on board the latter. Jones felt that every thing de- 
 pended on himself, and wonderfully did he approve himself equal 
 to the task. 
 
 The action commenced, the. two vessels being abreast of each 
 other, and the broadsides were almost simultaneous; but their near- 
 ness to each other prevented the Serapis from manoeuvring to ad- 
 vantage, and in a short time the Bon Homme ran her bows into 
 the stern of the Serapis. Captain Pearson, aware of the vast in- 
 feriority of the Bon Homme, deemed this the consequence of her 
 crew's inability to work her, and demanded if she had struck. 
 Jones himself replied that " he had not yet begun to fight." His 
 vessel, however, was already much galled by the broadsides of the 
 Serapis, and was pierced in several places under water. The water 
 was fast rushing in, and she was in manifest danger of sinking. 
 All this time, though the need of support must have been evident, 
 the Bon Homme received no aid from the rest of the squadron ; the 
 Pallas was engaged with the Countess of Scarborough, and th*» 
 other two, the Vengeance and the Alliance, kept aloof, as if in the 
 
400 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 hope that Paul Jones might be beaten. The Serapis was much 
 more manageable than Jones's ship ; but in attempting to separate 
 from the Bon Homme, her bowsprit ran in over the Bon Homme 
 poop by the mizen-mast. Jones instantly grappled, the action of 
 the wind brought her stern round to the Bon Homme's bows; by 
 this means the ships lay close alongside of each other, their guns 
 touching, and their )ards entangled. This was a bold way of sav- 
 ing a sinking ship, and preventing the effect of eighteen pounders 
 under water. 
 
 The battle, to use Jones's own words, was fought with unremitt- 
 ing fury. The rammers were run into the respective ships to ena- 
 ble the men to load. The Serapis now fought with the actual view 
 of sinking the enemy, and her broadsides were incessant. But for 
 the two ships being lashed together the Bon Homme must have 
 struck or sunk, or both. The battery of twelve pounders, on which 
 Jones had placed his chief dependance, which was commanded by his 
 only lieutenant, and manned by Americans, was entirely silenced 
 and abandoned. Most of the six old eighteen-pounders that formed 
 the battery of the lower gun-deck, burst, and killed nearly all the 
 men who worked them. At the same time, Colonel Chamillard, 
 who commanded a party of twenty French volunteers on the poop, 
 abandoned his station, having lost nearly all his band. There were 
 only two nine-pounders on the quarter-deck that were not silenced. 
 The purser who commanded the party that worked these guns was 
 shot through the head ; and Jones was compelled to fill his place, 
 though his presence was needed in every part of the ship. With 
 great difficulty he rallied a few men, and shifted over one of the 
 lee-quarter-deck guns; these three nine-pounders played well, but 
 not one of the heavier cannon of the Bon Homme was fired during 
 the rest of the action. Notwithstanding this, and the certainty 
 that sooner or later the Bon Homme must sink, Paul Jones fought 
 as if assured of victory, and apparently quite insensible to the 
 superior force of his enemy; and the increasing peril of his situa- 
 tion served only to augment the fury of his attack. One of the 
 three guns above mentioned he kept in constant play upon the maiu- 
 mast of the Serapis; with the other two he endeavoured to clear 
 her decks, which he effectually accomplished, for in a very short 
 time not a man was to be seen above board. Jones's topmen kept 
 up so well aimed a fire, that if any of the enemy ventured on deck, 
 it was at the expense of his life. Captain Pearson therefore order* 
 ed all that remained to keep below ; but a disaster rendered them 
 us iuiecure here at. above; their powder monkeys, finding no one 
 
PAUL JONES. 401 
 
 to receive the eighteen-pound cartridges, threw them down, and 
 returned for more : some hand-grenades from the Bon Homme set 
 fire to these, and the explosion caused the death of several of the 
 English. Captain Pearson afterwards acknowledged that at this 
 period he felt that to continue the fight would be but uselessly sacri- 
 ficing the lives of his men, and was about to surrender, when some 
 of Jones's valiant officers, believing, in like manner, there was no 
 hope for them, cried for " quarter !" Delighted at the prospect of 
 saving his own honour, Pearson himself enquired of Jones, if he 
 meant to surrender. " No !" thundered Jones, and the action 
 recommenced with twofold fury. But though Jones managed to 
 keep the decks of the Serapis clear, his ship suffered dreadfully 
 from her lower battery of eighteen-pounders, and he was more than 
 once compelled (for the ship was on fire in many places,) to draw 
 his men from the fight to check the flames, and keep the fire from 
 the magazine. In fact, both vessels were on fire ! but the Bon 
 Homme was in by far the more imminent danger, for her hold was 
 filling with water. The moment was fast approaching, in which 
 the Bon Homme Richard must sink, and Jones was in the very 
 rage of despair, when the Alliance drew near, He breathed again 
 — now victory was sure — was his; but, to his utter astonishment 
 and dismay, the treacherous Landais poured a broadside full into 
 the Bon Homme's stern. The crew cried aloud " For God's sake, 
 don't fire into the Bon Homme Richard!" but he continued his 
 firing, and passed onwards. He could not by any possibility mis- 
 take the ships, for not only were their construction and appearance 
 different, but the sides of the Serapis were yellow, and those of the 
 Bon Homme black. Signals even had no effect, but she worked 
 round and sent her shot into the Bon Homme's side and head, kill- 
 ed several men, and wounded a valuable officer. " My situation, ' 
 says Jones, " was now really deplorable." The Alliance now 
 sheered off', but not without giving the Bon Homme several shots 
 under water. The pumps were of no avail to keep the water under, 
 and some of Jones's bravest officers advised him to strike. Whilst 
 he was delaying a reply to his officer, his master-at-arms set free 
 all the prisoners, to the number of nearly five hundred, telling 
 them to save themselves, as the ship was sinking. But notwith- 
 standing all this, notwithstanding that the rudder was off, the stern- 
 frame and transoms almost wholly cutaway, the timbers everywhere 
 torn to pieces, and the vessel itself actually filling with water, 
 Jones would not yield. He saw the mainmast of the Serapis shake, 
 and his attentive ear discerned that the enemy's firing decreased ; 
 D D 
 
40j ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 whereupon he instantly increased that of the Bon Homme, and at 
 half-past ten, in the sight of thousands, the flag of England, 
 which had been nailed to the mast of the Serapis, was struck by 
 Captain Pearson's own hand. Her mainmast at the same time went 
 overboard ; nor was there time to do more than remove the wounded 
 before the Bon Homme sank ! The Countess of Scarborough had 
 already struck to the Pallas. 
 
 The glory of this victory must be conceded entirely to Paul 
 Jones ; but for the exercise of his authority as captain, the Bon 
 Homme had long before struck. The result was wholly owing to 
 his determined and cool intrepidity. The effect on the public 
 mind in France and England exhibited itself in the two extremes 
 of rapture and mortification. These fast succeeding and irresistible 
 irruptions of the American captain spread terror through e^ery 
 part of England, especially on the coasts, and, as is usual when 
 such excitement prevails, every occurrence not expected, or not 
 at once understood, was magnified into a cause of immediate alarm: 
 every sea-port, every town on or near the coast, tremblingly ex- 
 pected to be the object of Paul Jones's next attack; every strange 
 sail in the offing was looked upon as the van of an overwhelming 
 fleet, then bearing down upon that coast; in fact, the whole voca- 
 bulary of terror-inspiring words was condensed into two short 
 monosyllables — Paul Jones ! Man, woman and child turned pale 
 at the very sound of his name. 
 
 In the mean time, the attention of this redoubted captain was 
 engrossed by the disabled remainder of the two crews now his 
 prisoners; nor was the remnant of his own or the crew of the 
 Pallas in a better condition. Contrary winds drove him into the 
 Texel, a Dutch island with a good harbour, the usual station of 
 the Dutch navy, where Jones obtained permission from the States- 
 General to establish a hospital. The English immediately, through 
 their ambassador, claimed from their High Mightinesses the resti- 
 tution of the English ships, and the delivery into their hands " of 
 a certain Paul Jones, a subject of the king, who, according to 
 treaties and the laws of war, could only be considered as a rebel 
 and a pirate." For some time the States-General refused to inter- 
 fere, but at length, in December, they sent Jones an order to 
 depart from the Texel, which the English looked upon as an equi- 
 valent to their first demand; for they had surrounded the •' rebel*' 
 with so close a blockade, that his escape appeared impossible. 
 This, however, he effected, and so little apprehensive was he of 
 danger, or so confident in his own resources, that, as it would seem, 
 
PAUL JONES. 403 
 
 he was employed at the time in inditing some complimentary stanzas 
 to a lady who had favoured him in a similar way whilst at the Texel, 
 and they were sent to her immediately after escaping out of the 
 Texel from the blockade of the British fleet. 
 
 During the course of Paul Jones's stay at the Texel, he addressed 
 the following 
 
 Letters to the Dutch Admiral Baron, Vander Capellen. 
 
 on board the serapis at the texel, 
 Oct. 19, 1779. 
 
 " My Lord, — Human nature, and America, are under very 
 singular obligations to you for your patriotism and friendship ; 
 and I feel every grateful sentiment for your generous and polite 
 letter. 
 
 " Agreeable to your request, I have the honour to enclose a copy 
 of my letter to his excellency Dr. Franklin containing a particular 
 account of my late expedition on the coast of Britain aad Ireland; 
 by which you will see that I have already been praised more than 
 I deserved. But I must, at the same time, beg leave to observe, 
 that, by the other papers which I take the liberty to enclose, (par- 
 ticularly my letter to the Countess of Selkirk, dated the day of 
 my arrival at Brest from the Irish sea) I hope you will be con- 
 vinced that in the British prints I have been censured unjustly. 
 I was indeed born in Britain, but I do not inherit the degenerate 
 spirit of that fallen nation, which I at once lament and despise. 
 It is far beneath me to reply to their hireling invectives; they are 
 strangers to the inward approbation that greatly animates and 
 rewards the man who draws his sword only in support of the dignity 
 }f freedom. 
 
 " America has been the country of my fond selection from the 
 age of thirteen, when 1 first saw it. I had the honour to hoist, 
 with my own hands, the flag of freedom the first time it was dis- 
 played on the Delaware; and I have attended it with veneration 
 ever since on the ocean. I see it respected even here in spite of 
 the pitiful Sir Joseph, (York) and I ardently wish and hope very 
 soon to exchange a salute with the flag of this republic. Let but 
 the two republics join hands and they will give peace to the world. 
 " Highly ambitious to render myself worthy of your friendship, 
 I have the honour to be, my Lord, your very obliged and most 
 humble servant. 
 
 (Signed,) Paul Jones 
 
404 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 ON BOARD THE ALLIANCE AT THE TEXEL, 
 
 Nov. 29, 1779. 
 " My Lord,— Since 1 had the honour to receive your second es- 
 teemed letter, I have unexpectedly had occasion to revisit Amster- 
 dam; and having changed ships since my return to the Texel, 1 
 have, by some accident or neglect, lost or mislaid your letter. I 
 remember, however, the questions it contained, viz., 1st. Whether 
 I ever had any obligation to Lord Selkirk ? 2nd. Whether he ac- 
 cepted my offer? 3rd. Whether I have a French commission? I 
 answer, I never had any obligation to Lord Selkirk, except for 
 his good opinion ; nor does he know me or mine, except by charac- 
 ter. Lord Selkirk wrote me an answer to my letter to the Countess, 
 but the ministry detained it in the general post-office in London 
 for a long time, and then returned it to the author, who afterwards 
 wrote to a friend of his, (Mr. Alexander) an acquaintance of Dr. 
 Franklin's, then at Paris, giving him an account of the fate of 
 his letters to me, and desiring him to acquaint his Excellency and 
 myself, that, " if the plate was restored by Congress or any public 
 body, he would accept it, but that he could not think of accepting 
 it from my private generosity." The plate has, however, been 
 bought, agreeable to my letter to the Countess, and now lays in 
 France at her disposal. As to the third article, I never bore, nor 
 acted under any other commission than what I have received from 
 the Congress of the United States of America. 
 
 " 1 am much obliged to you, my Lord, for the honour you do me 
 by proposing to publish the papers I sent you in my last; but it is 
 an honour which I must decline, because 1 cannot publish my 
 letter to that lady without asking and obtaining the lady's consent, 
 and because I have a very modest opinion of my writings, being 
 conscious that they are not of sufficient value to claim the notice 
 of the public. 1 assure you, my Lord, it has given me much con- 
 cern to see an extract of my rough journal in print, and that too, 
 under the disadvantage of a translation. That mistaken kindness 
 of a friend will make me cautious how I communicate my papers. 
 I have the honour to be, my Lord, with great esteem and 
 respect, &c. &c. (Signed,) Pall Jones. 
 
 One of the chief points which the English ambassador had urged 
 upon the Dutch government was the asserted non-possession by 
 Jones and his squadron of proper commissions. To recognize the 
 commission of Congress would have implied a recognition of UM 
 independence of the United States in America; and Holland 
 
PAUL JONES. 405 
 
 wished to maintain her neutrality, or rather, was not prepared to 
 declare open hostility to England. To avoid this difficulty, there- 
 fore, the King of Fiance, who had supplied the vessels and fur- 
 nished the means of the cruise, sent an order to Jones to deliver 
 up to the French ambassador all his prisoners, with the Serapis 
 and the Countess of Scarborough, for with the exception of the 
 Alliance, the remainder of the squadron was the property of his 
 most Christian Majesty, and the French ambassador had in con- 
 sequence the right to dispose of them. They had, accordingly, to 
 the great annoyance of the English government, quitted the Texel, 
 under the convoy of the Dutch fleet. Disappointed in the recovery 
 of their ships, they determined to be revenged on Paul Jones, who 
 of course did not accompany the squadron, but, as has been seen, 
 escaped them. The Bon Homme having sunk, and Landais, on 
 account of his misconduct, having been deposed from his command, 
 our hero was appointed to the Alliance, which, as Paul Jones's 
 vessel, and consequently in the service of Congress, the Dutch 
 government could not openly protect; it was therefore left to its 
 fate, which proved happier than had been anticipated. 
 
 The good fortune of Paul Jones did not, however, protect him 
 from the common fate of mankind. The glory he had acquired 
 was supereminent, and his fame was deservedly wide spread ; but 
 envy, jealousy, and malicious detraction, compelled him more 
 than once to demonstrate the integrity of his motives, and defend 
 the justness of his actions. To compensate for these mortifications, 
 he was, while at Paris, overwhelmed with applause and distinc- 
 tions, courted by the great, admired by the fair, and honoured by 
 the particular favour of the King, every painful emotion was 
 quickly dispelled, and he soon showed himself as great an admirer 
 of the rumbling of carriages, as of the roar of musketry, quite as 
 delighted with the glances of killing eyes as with the flashes of 
 slaughtering eighteen-pounders, and much more willing to surren- 
 der his heart to the first ruby lips that demanded it, than yield, in 
 his frigate, to the largest three-decker that ever sailed on the ocean. 
 Indeed he proved himself as ardent a worshipper of Venus as ever 
 he had been of the God of war ; and so singularly zealous was he 
 in his new service, that he at last found himself in the ecstatic 
 condition, at the same time rather awkward predicament, of being 
 in love with every woman in Paris. But Jones's love was by no 
 means of a common kind; he possessed a deep-rooted, ineradicable 
 admiration for the whole sex, and manifested the sentiment to each 
 individual. 
 
406 ENGLISH TIHATES. 
 
 But to render complete the satisfaction he must have derived 
 from the gratulations he received on all hands, Louis testified his 
 warm admiration of his bravery and skill by presenting him with 
 a most splendid sword, inscribed with these words, 
 
 " Vindicati Maris 
 
 Ludovicus XVI. Remunerator 
 
 Strenuo Vindici." 
 
 In addition to which was conferred on him the cross of military 
 
 merit, an honour never before bestowed on one who had not actually 
 
 served in the army or navy of the kingdom. 
 
 To return to the ladies; it must not be supposed Jones's heart 
 issued such prodigious streams of love without exciting reciprocity, 
 and of equal intensity. One lady was so strenuous an admirer of 
 him, and sympathised so completely with all his feelings, wa% so 
 quick to perceive, and so ready to relieve him in all his perplexities, 
 that when she heard that his crew were kept out of their prize- 
 money, she offered her diamonds and effects of all kinds to be 
 converted into money, that he might be delivered from so galling 
 a mortification. She would sit before his portrait for hours, bathed 
 in tears, possibly for lack of the original; and when he departed 
 for America, rather than not be near him, " she would willingly 
 be the lowest of his crew !" Another, skilled in the art of painting, 
 could find no subject so suited to her taste as the countenance of 
 Paul Jones. This lady was a countess, a married flirt; and Com- 
 modore Jones, in genuine sincerity and pure simplicity of heart, 
 in order to lessen the pains of absence, wrote, when he sailed for 
 America, to the Countess, told her he was deeply afflicted by hav- 
 ing cause to feiir that she was less happy than he wished her to be, 
 than he was sure she deserved to be, and, as the most soothing 
 consolation he could offer, enclosed a cipher for a key to their 
 future correspondence, so that she would be able to write to him 
 " very freely and without risk." Moreover, he sent her a lock of 
 his hair, shorter, unfortunately, by eighteen inches, than three 
 months back, and would have sent, " if he could," his M heart 
 itself" 
 
 Now when Jones was in Paris he was, as may be supposed, the 
 lion of the day, and it was the fashion to admire nothing else, to 
 talk of nothing else: the Countess was a lady of fashion, therefore 
 she very much admired Paul Jones; the Countess was also a flirt, 
 therefore she laid siege to Jones's heart; the Count, too, was in 
 tne provinces, therefore she had a good opportunity of gratifying 
 tier ambition to see this mighty man-of-war subdued by the power* 
 
PAUL JONES. 40) 
 
 of her charms. But fashions change, and flirts change, and the 
 Countess changed: in fact she was " astonished at his audacity," 
 supposed " that his packet was misdirected," and begged to intro- 
 duce to him the Count her husband : he was passing through 
 L'Orient, and she should " be obliged to Jones to pay him every 
 civility." Jones returned a most dexterous reply, and completely 
 extricated himself from the dilemma, declaring the cipher to have 
 been intended for political purposes, to prevent his communications 
 from being understood, should they fall into the enemy's hands, 
 expressing his desire to become acquainted and associated with 
 the Count, and, by staling that he had supposed her philosopher 
 enough to understand that friendship was nothing to do with sex, 
 threw all the blame on the Countess for misinterpreting his inno- 
 cent words. 
 
 Paul Jones returned to America, with a powerful commendatory 
 letter from the French Minister to the American President. His 
 passage, however, was not made in the Alliance, to which he had 
 been appointed, but in the Ariel, which was to accompany the 
 Alliance. For Landais, who, though a Frenchman, was an 
 American subject, and had received his commission from Congress, 
 had with consummate impudence, entered the Alliance before Joneg 
 had embarked, and persuaded the men that Jones had been the 
 chief cause of the detention both of their pay and prize-money, 
 (which was utterly false,) and that as his command had not been 
 taken from him by the power from which he received it, he was 
 still their proper captain, and in that capacity expected from them 
 implicit obedience. It is some satisfaction to the mind goaded by 
 disappointment, to be aware of the source to which it may be at- 
 tributed. This pleasure, derived from ascertaining the cause of 
 their sufferings, led the men to give credence to Landais statement; 
 and even that part of the crew which formerly belonged to the Bon 
 Homme, suddenly admitted suspicions of Jones quite inconsistent 
 with their experience of his character. Landais was hailed as 
 their captain, and at his command the vessel immediately worked 
 out of port, and sailed for America, w T here, in order to invest the 
 just charges which Jones might prefer against him with the ap- 
 pearance of mere recriminations, he made allegations respecting 
 Jones, in consequence of which our hero was, as soon as he arrived 
 presented with an order from Congress to answer forty-seven inter- 
 rogatories, relating to occurrences in Europe. 
 
 Jones delivered the French Minister's letter, and had tin* grat- 
 
408 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 tilication of seeing the two following resolutions passed, without 
 waiting for his reply to the interrogatories. 
 
 " In Congress, February, 1781. 
 
 " Resolved, That the Congress eutertain a high sense of the 
 distinguished braverv and military conduct of John Paul Jones, 
 Esq, Captain in the Navy of the United States, and particularly 
 in his victory over the British ship Serapis, on the coast of 
 England, which was attended with circumstances so brilliant as to 
 excite general applause and approbation. 
 
 " Resolved, That the Minister Plenipotentiary of the United 
 States of the Court of Versailles, communicate to His Most Chris- 
 tian Majesty the high satisfaction Congress have received from the 
 conduct and gallant behaviour of Captain Paul Jones having merit- 
 ed the attention and approbation of His Most Christian Majesty, 
 and that His Majesty's offer of investing Captain Jones with a 
 Cross of Military Merit is highly acceptable to Congress." 
 
 Jones was very shortly after unanimously elected by Congress to 
 the command of their first seventy-four, the America, then build- 
 ing in the dock-yard of the United States. But this command he 
 never enjoyed, for the Magnifique, a seventy-four, of the French 
 fleet, was lost during the Autumn of 1782, in the harbour of Bos- 
 ton, and Congress, being desirous of testifying to the French King 
 the sense they entertained " of his generous exertions in behalf ot 
 the United States," presented him with the America, then just of]' 
 the stocks. The acknowledgment by England of the American 
 Independence took place before any suitable employment could be 
 found for Jones; but in 1783 he revisited France, in the capacity 
 of Agent of America for European prize-money. In the accom- 
 plishment of his diplomatic purposes he was unremitting in exer- 
 tion, ingenious in the selection of means, and especially skilful in 
 their use. 
 
 The ardour of Paul Jones's desire for the eminence of the Ame- 
 ricans as a nation, excited his fertile mind to constant activity, 
 and his attention was ever directed to the improvements possible 
 to be effected. So many and of so great importance were the 
 services which his intellect, superadded to those already conferred 
 by his intrepid valour, had achieved, that in 1787, the American 
 Minister in France was ordered by Congress to have a gold medal, 
 with proper divices, struck and presented to Jones, " in comme- 
 moration of his valour and brilliant services." A letter was pre- 
 
PAUL JONES. *> 
 
 pared to recommend to the continued favour of His Most Christian 
 Majesty, and another to Jones himself, declaratory of the esteem 
 and honour in which he was held by the nation. 
 
 In March 1788, he went to Denmark, to settle a question respect- 
 ing some prize-money claimed by America. His fame secured him 
 " a very polite and distinguished reception" by the Royal Family 
 and all the court. His health, however, was in a declining state, 
 and he suffered much from fatigue and excessive cold on the road, 
 so that he was obliged to keep his bed for several days, and was not 
 inapprehensive of danger. Unfortunately, it was found that his 
 want of plenipotentiary powers from Congress was a " natural and 
 invincible obstacle" to the business being discussed definitively 
 with him, so that his was not compassed; but he had the happiness 
 to be the means, though at his own expense, and, as he writes, 
 even at the peril of his life— for his constitution was materially in- 
 jured by the journey — of renewing the negociations between that 
 country and the United States. Whilst at Copenhagen, he receiv- 
 ed an invitation to Petersburgh from the Empress Catherine, who 
 offered him, if he would enter her service, the rank of Rear- Admi- 
 ral. Jones accepted the invitation, but assured Mr. Jefferson that 
 he had not " forsaken a country that had had many disinterested 
 and difficult proofs" of his steady affection : and that he could 
 never renounce the glorious title of a " citizen of the United States." 
 His journey to St. Petersburgh was quite in accordance with the 
 rest of his life, and very much unlike what any one else would have 
 done. He passed through Sweden ; the season was too far advanced 
 to permit his return to Paris; the distance would have been too 
 long through Germany, and the English had thrown difficulties in 
 the way of his passage by the Baltic; the Gulf of Bothnia he found 
 barred with ice, and after making several fruitless attempts to cross 
 it in an open boat, about thirty feet long, he compelled the Swedish 
 peasants to steer for the Gulf of Finland. After about four or five 
 hundred miles navigation he landed at Revel, and having paid the 
 men to their satisfaction, he provided them with a gooJ pilot and 
 provisions, and sent them home again. This voyage was looked 
 upon as a kind of miracle, for it had never been attempted before, 
 except in large vessels. His reception, to use his own words, was 
 the most flattering that perhaps any stranger could boast of on 
 entering the Russian service. Her Majesty immediately conferred 
 on him the grade of Rear-admiral. After a fortnight's continued 
 feasting at the court, and in the first society, he was appointed to 
 the command of a division of the fleet serving against the Turks 
 
410 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 in the Leman sea. The cause of his being assigned this station, 
 was the refusal of the English officers, then in the Empress's ser- 
 vice, to act under the command of an enemy of their country. 
 Catherine was adminished by some of her cabinet of the impolicy 
 of offending, for one individual, so large a number of valuable 
 officers; but the Empress was too well acquainted with Jones's 
 value to be persuaded to recall her invitation, and to obviate the 
 difficulty, she assigned to Jones the abovenamed command, and 
 distributed the English officers in the Cronstadt fleet under Admiral 
 Greig. 
 
 Jones, by timely interference, saved from destruction a flotilla 
 under Prince Nassau, the Admiral, for which he received the 
 Cross of St. Anne; and afterwards when his division was attacked 
 by the Turkish fleet, gained a complete victory, in consequence 
 of the enemy's ships running aground. The royal Admiral, how- 
 ever, before many of the Turkish vessels could be taken possession 
 of, instead of seizing the prizes, to the utter astonishment of 
 Jones, burnt them; nor was his state of astonishment at all dimi- 
 nished, when reading the report of the engagement in the Imperial 
 Gazette, he saw it described as a brilliant victory gained by the 
 Russian fleet under Prince Nassau. He forthwith despatched a 
 violent letter on the subject, which was answered by an order to 
 repair to Petersburgh, and an appointment to the command of 
 the Northern fleet, an office which is the Chiltern Hundreds of 
 the Russian service. Nevertheless, Jones remained for a long 
 time at Petersburgh, in much esteem at Court. But at last the 
 intrigues of the partisans of England drove him form St. Peters- 
 burgh in disgust, and the calumnious reports circulated by his 
 enemies, constrained his friend Count de Segur to insert the 
 following check to slander all the public prints, and particularly 
 in the Gazette of France. 
 
 " St. Petersburgh, 21st July, 1789.— The Vice Admiral Paul 
 Jones being on the point of returning to France, where private 
 affairs required his presence, had the honour to take leave of the 
 Empress the 7th of this month, and to be admitted to kiss the 
 hand of her Imperial Majesty,* who confided to him the com- 
 mand of her vessels of war stationed on the Leman, during the 
 campaign of 1788. As a mark of favour for his conduct during 
 
 • This general officer, so celebrated by his brilliant actions during the 
 course of the American war, was called, in 1787, to the service of hc» 
 
 Imperial Majesty. 
 
PAUL JONES. 
 
 this campaign, the Empress has decorated him with the insignia 
 of the order of St. Anne; and her Imperial Majesty, satisfied 
 with his services, only grants him permission to absent himself 
 for a limited time, and still preserves for him his emoluments and 
 his rank " 
 
 " The Count De Seguu.'' 
 
 The disgust with which Admiral Jones quitted the Russian ser- 
 vice did not operate as an obstacle to his petitioning subsequently 
 for renewed employment. He wrote from Paris in July, 1790, 
 to Prince Potemkin, a long letter setting forth his abilities, his 
 services, his honours, and his wishes; but the situation of Russia 
 at that time not requiring the aid of extraordinary naval talent, 
 no answer was vouchsafed to the epistle. Some months after he 
 wrote to the Empress herself, with similar effect. The injuries 
 he received in Russia affected him deeply, and the neglect 
 which was shown to his letter added to the keenness with which 
 they were felt. Some compensation, however, was afforded him 
 by the unexpected liberality of the King of Denmark, who had 
 spontaneously assigned him an annuity of 1500 crowns, Danish 
 currency, to be paid at Copenhagen, without any retention what- 
 ever. 
 
 Sickness now began to make serious inroads on Jones's consti- 
 tution, and the greater part of 1791, was passed at Paris in 
 extreme ill health. Thus he lingered till the beginning of June, 
 1792, when he breathed his last, in the forty sixth year of his age. 
 The National Assembly honoured him by going into mourning 
 on the occasion, and a deputation of that body accompanied his 
 corpse to the grave. 
 
 Paul Jones was of a middle or rather inclining to a short sta- 
 ture, slenderly formed, — with a stern countenance and a swarthy 
 complexion. His manner was authoritative and his air deter- 
 mined. 
 
 In reviewing the career of this extraordinary man, we cannot 
 but acknowledge, however much it has hitherto been deemed pa- 
 triotic to denounce him to the English people, that Paul was in 
 no other sense a pirate than Washington was a traitor. He fought 
 zealously for his adopted country — always acted under commission 
 from the American Republic, and was to all intents and purposes, 
 after the independence of that country had been declared, a citi- 
 zen of the United States. 
 
 We stop not to enquire the motives, for w r e cannot know th»in. 
 
412 ENLGISH PIRATES. 
 
 of his hostility to his own country. One thing is certain, that he 
 could never give such an explanation of his conduct iu that par- 
 ticular as would exempt him from the stigma attached to such a 
 charge. The probable solution is, that being unemployed in 
 England — descrying a fair field for his talents in America, and, 
 perhaps, indignant at the oppression exercised by Great Britain, 
 he, in the spirit of an adventurer, engaged his surpassing abih 
 ties in the service of the then reputed weaker party. 
 
 It has indeed been surmised, that the unworthy conduct of cer- 
 tain individuals with whom he had been connected before he cross- 
 ed the Atlantic, excited or influenced the enmity he bore to the 
 whole country; but that such feeling should have been generated 
 by such means is an imputation upon his sagacity, good sense, 
 and even good taste, which the whole tenor of his life leads tb 
 altogether to reject. 
 
 Upon the whole, when we consider that Paul Jones, without 
 even the advantages which the majority of people in his original 
 station of life enjoy — without friends, and, consequently, utterly 
 destitute of influence, became, by his own unassisted exertions, 
 a respectable scholar — at least a perfect master of his own langu- 
 age, which he wrote with great elegance and purity — that he 
 obtained the friendship of the greatest men of his time in Ame- 
 rica — and that he raised himself to the station of Commander in 
 Chief of the Squadrons of the United States — it cannot be dojpbted 
 or denied that he was a man of vigorous understanding, of digni- 
 fied and urbane manners, and of the most consummate skill and 
 judgment as a Naval Commander. 
 
 Let us not, under the paltry pretext of patriotism, withhold 
 from a great man that meed of fame which his actions, in what- 
 ever light we view them — so it be a light — are calculated to extort 
 from us. Let Englishmen, at least, not be slow to render that 
 praise which can always be well spared, and never justly retain- 
 ed. It is no disgrace to England, if it be not. indeed her glory, 
 that Paul Jones was one of her own sons. 
 
 Some years ago, a large bundle of letters were brought to light 
 in a baker's shop in New York, which proved to be the private 
 correspondence of the celebrated Paul Jones. When he left 
 America for the last time, he committed to the care of his friend, 
 Ross, of Philadelphia, several packages of manuscript papers, 
 consisting of letters, journals, and vouchers of his landed and 
 other property in America. A power of attorney was afterwards 
 
PAUL JONES. 415 
 
 sent to Mr. Robert Hyslop, merchant of New York, to receive 
 these packages in trust, for the heirs of Paul Jones. An agent 
 came to this country, and settled the pecuniary affairs; but the 
 papers, on being examined, were allowed to remain in the hands 
 of Mr. Hyslop, in trust, as undivided property, belonging equally 
 to all the heirs of Paul Jones. At length Robert Hyslop died, 
 and the papers then fell into the hands of his executor, John Hys- 
 lop, baker, in New York. This is a brief explanation of the 
 somewhat singular circumstance, of papers of this sort having 
 been discovered in a baker's shop. They were valuable, as con- 
 taining the correspondence of some of the most eminent leaders of 
 the revolution. 
 
 Another remark we may add respecting the papers of Paul 
 Jones. By his will he left all his effects to his two sisters, who 
 resided at or near Dumfries, in Scotland, to be divided equally 
 between them and their children, in as many shares as there were 
 individuals in the two families, constituting his two sisters guard- 
 ians of their respective children during their minority. In 1793, 
 one of the sisters and the husband of the other went to Paris, to 
 recover a debt from the French government to Paul Jones, and 
 took with them to Scotland, among other things, all the papers left 
 by him. A division of the effects and papeis was immediately 
 made by a gentleman appointed for the purpose, with a mutual 
 consent of the parties, who bound themselves to abide by his deci- 
 sion ; and this gentleman pursued an extraordinary course in regard 
 to the papers. He portioned them out in two parcels, by weight 
 and measure, just as they happened to come in hand, without re- 
 gard to their value or connexion. The two families resided for 
 some time in Scotland; and when Mr. Duncan prepared the short 
 biographical sketch of Paul Jones, for the Edinburgh Encyclope- 
 dia, he appears to have access to all the papers. Since that time a 
 branch of one of the families had removed to America, and brought 
 hither a part of the papers; all, it is presumed, which this branch 
 had in its possession. 
 
 A few years ago a niece of Paul Jones, who inherited from her 
 mother the portion of papers that fell to her lot, made an overture 
 to the Historical Society of New York to publish them. The nego- 
 tiation was not successful ; but the manuscripts were sent out to 
 New York for inspection, where they now remain in the hands of 
 an individual in trust for the owner. They are fair copies, collected 
 into four volumes, the three first of which relate chiefly to the part 
 the author took in th^ American Revolution. The last volume is 
 
U4 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 written in French, and is devoted wholly to his services in Russia. 
 The contents of all his volumes are chiefly letters and official papers, 
 some of which had been published. To the first volume is prefixed 
 a memoir of his life, but by what hand we know not. There is also 
 a short narrative of the transaction in which he was engaged dur- 
 ing the American war but the substance of this is nearly the same 
 as that which he presented to the King of France. It is a mistake 
 however, which some way or other crept into the Edinburgh Ency- 
 clopedia, that Paul Jones has left any thing which can be properly 
 called a memoir of his own life by himself. What is to be the des- 
 tiny of these papers we are not informed, but they are obviously 
 essential to any correct delineation of the life and character of Paul 
 Jones. 
 
 MAJOR STEDE BONNET. 
 
 Major Bonnet was a gentleman of good reputation in the island 
 of Barbadoes, where he was master of a plentiful fortune, having, 
 besides, the advantage of a liberal education. He had the least 
 temptation of any man to follow such a course of life from the con- 
 dition of his circumstances ; and therefore it was very surprising 
 to every one in the island where he lived, when they heard of his 
 enterprises. As he was generally esteemed and honoured before 
 he broke out into open acts of piracy, so he was afterwards rather 
 pitied than condemned by those that were acquainted with him, 
 who believed that his humour of going a pirating proceeded from 
 a disorder in his mind, which had been but too visible in him some 
 tiroe before this wicked undertaking; and which is said to have 
 been occasioned by some discomforts he met with in a married state. 
 But, be that as it will, the major was ill qualified for the business; 
 for he did not understand maritime affairs. 
 
 When he was resolved in his wicked purpose, he fitted out a 
 yloop, with ten guns and seventy men, entirely at his own expense; 
 and in the night-time sailed from Barbadoes. He called this sloop 
 the Revenge, and his first cruise in her was off the Capes of Vir- 
 ginia; where he took several ships, and plundered them of their 
 provisions, clothes, money, ammunition, &c, in particular the 
 Anne, Captain Montgomery, from Glasgow; the Turbet from Bar- 
 badoes; which latter for the country's sake, after they had taken 
 
MAJOR STEDE BONNET. 415 
 
 out the principal part of the lading, the pirate crew set her on fire. 
 Iney took also, the Endeavour, Captain Scott, from Bristol, and 
 then Young, from Leith. From hence they went to New York, 
 and off the east end of Long Island they took a sloop bound for 
 the West Indies; after which they stood in and landed some men 
 at Gardener's Island, but in a peaceful manner ; for they bought 
 provisions for the company's use, which they paid justly for, and 
 so went off again without molestation. 
 
 Some time after, in the month of August, 1717, Bonnet came 
 off the bar of South Carolina, and took a sloop and a brigantine, 
 inward-bound; the sloop belonged to Barbadoes, Joseph Palmer, 
 master, and was laden with rum, sugar, and negroes ; the brigan- 
 tine came from New England, Thomas Porter, master; her they 
 plundered, and then dismissed. But they sailed away with the 
 sloop, and at an inlet in North Carolina, where, careened by them, 
 they set her on fire. 
 
 After the sloop had cleaned, they put to sea, but came to no 
 resolution what course to take, for the crew were divided in their 
 opinions, some being for one thing, and some for another; so that 
 nothing but confusion seemed to attend all their schemes. 
 
 The Major was no sailor, as was said before; and therefore, was 
 often obliged to yield to many things that were imposed on him, 
 during their undertaking, for want of a competent knowledge in 
 maritime affairs, till at length he happened to fall in company with 
 Edward Teach, commonly called Black-beard, as we observed in 
 his life. This fellow was a good sailor, but a most cruel hardened 
 villain, bold and daring to the last degree, and would not stick at 
 perpetrating the most abominable wickedness imaginable; for 
 which he was made chief of that execrable gang. It might be said, 
 that this post was not unduly filled, Black-beard being truly the 
 superior in roguery of all the company, as has been related in his 
 life. 
 
 To him Bonnet's crew joined in consortship, and Bonnet himself 
 was laid aside, notwithstanding the sloop was his own. The major 
 went aboard Black-beard's ship, not concerning himself with any 
 of their affairs ; and continued there till she was lost in Topsail 
 Inlet; and one Richards was appointed captain in his room. The 
 major now saw his folly, but could not help himself, which made 
 him melancholy. He reflected upon his past course of life, and 
 was confounded with shame when he thought upon what he had 
 done. His behaviour was taken notice of by the other pirates, who 
 liked him none the better for it; and he often declared to some of 
 
♦16 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 *hem, that he would gladly leave off that way of living, bein^ 
 perfectly tired of it; but he should be ashamed to see the face of 
 any honest Englishman again ; therefore, he said, if he could get 
 to Spain or Portugal, where he might live undiscovered, he would 
 spend the remainder of his days in either of those countries, other- 
 wise he must continue with them as long as he lived. 
 
 When Blaek-beara lost his sloop at Topsail Inlet, and surren- 
 dered to the King's Proclamation, Bonnet re-assumed the com- 
 mand of his own sloop; the Revenge went directly away to Bath 
 Town, in North Carolina, surrendered likewise to the King's 
 pardon, and received a certificate. The war was now broke out 
 between the Triple Allies and Spain; so Major Bonnet got a clear- 
 ance for his sloop at North Carolina, and went to the island of St. 
 Thomas, with a design, at least as he pretended, to get the Emj*j- 
 ror's commission to go a privateering upon the Spaniards. When 
 Bonnet came back to Topsail Inlet, foe found that Teach and his 
 gang were gone, and that they had taken all the money, small 
 arms, and effects of value, out of the great ship, and set ashore 
 seventeen men on a small sandy island, above a league from the 
 main, no doubt with a design they should perish, for there was no 
 inhabitant or provisions to subsist withal, nor any boat, or materials 
 to build, or make any kind of launch or vessel, to escape from 
 that desolate place. They had remained there two nights and a 
 day, without subsistence, or the least prospect of any, expecting 
 nothing else but a lingering death; when, to their inexpressible 
 comfort, they saw redemption at hand. Major Bonnet, happening 
 to get intelligence of their being there by two of the pirates who 
 had escaped from Teach's cruelty, and had got to a poor little village 
 at the upper end of the harbour, sent his boat to make discovery of 
 the truth of the matter, which the poor wretches seeing, they made 
 a signal to them, and were all brought on board Bonnet's sloop. 
 
 Major Bonnet told all his company, that he would take a com. 
 mission to go against the Spaniards, and would sail to St. Thomas's ; 
 therefore, he said, if they would go with him, they should be 
 welcome, and they consented; but as the sloop was preparing to 
 sail, a bomb-boat, which brought cider and apples to sell to the 
 sloop's men, informed them, that Captain Teach lay at Ornicock 
 Inlet, with only eighteen or twenty hands. Bonnet, who bore 
 him a mortal hatred for some insults offered him, went immediately 
 in pursuit of Black-beard, but it happened too late, for he missed 
 him there. They cruised after him four days, when hearing uu 
 farther news of him, they steered their course towards Virginia. 
 
MAJOR STEDE BONNET. 417 
 
 t 
 
 In the month of July these adventurers came off the Capes, and 
 meeting a pink with a stock of provisions on board, which they 
 happened to be in want of, they took out of her ten or twelve bar- 
 rels of pork, and about four hundred weight of bread; they would 
 not, however, have this set down to the account of piracy, and 
 therefore gave them eight or ten casks of rice and an old cable, in 
 lieu thereof. 
 
 Two days afterwards they chased a sloop of sixty tons, and about 
 two leagues off Cape Henry they took her. They were so happy 
 here as to get a supply of liquor to their victuals, for they brought 
 from her two hogsheads of rum, and as many of molasses ; which 
 it seems they had need of, though they had no ready money to 
 purchase them. What security they intended to give, I cannot 
 tell; but Bonnet sent eight men to take care of the prize sloop, 
 who, perhaps, not eating to make use of those accustomed free- 
 doms, took the first opportunity to go off with her, and Bonnet 
 (who was now pleased to have himself called Captain Thomas,) 
 saw them no more. 
 
 After this the major threw off all restraint, and though he had 
 just before received his majesty's mercy in the name of Stede Bon- 
 net, he relapsed in good earnest into his old vocation by the name 
 of Captain Thomas, and re-commenced a downright pirate, by 
 taking and plundering all the vessels he met with. He took off 
 Cape Henry two ships from Virginia, bound to Glasgow, which 
 furnished them with but very little besides one hundred weight of 
 Tobacco. The next day they took a small sloop bound from Vir- 
 ginia to Bermudas, which supplied them with twenty barrels of 
 pork, and some bacon ; they gave her in return two barrels of rice, 
 and one hogshead of molasses ; out of this sloop two men entered 
 voluntarily into their service. The next they took was another 
 Virginiaman, bound to Glasgow, out of which they had nothing 
 of value, save only a few combs, pins, and needles, instead of 
 which they gave her a barrel of pork, and two barrels of bread. 
 
 From Virginia they sailed to Philadelphia, and in lat. 38 N. they 
 took a schooner coming from North Carolina and bound to Boston ; 
 they deprived her only of two dozen of calf skins to make covers 
 for guns, and two of her hands, but they detained her some days. 
 All this was but small game, and seemed as if they designed only to 
 make provision for their sloop against they arrived at St. Thomas's; 
 for they hitherto had dealt favourably with all that fell into their 
 hands ; but those that were so unhappy as to come after fared not 
 so well : for in lat. 32, off Delaware river, near Philadelphia, they 
 
 E E 
 
418 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 took two snows bound to Bristol, out of which they got some money, 
 besides goods to the value of £150. At the same time they took a 
 sloop of sixty tons, bound from Philadelphia to Barbadoes, which, 
 after taking some goods out, they dismissed along with the snows. 
 
 The 29th of July, Captain Thomas took a sloop of fifty tons, six 
 or seven leagues off Delaware bay, bound from Philadelphia to 
 Barbadoes, Thomas Read, master; she was loaded with provisions, 
 which they kept, and put four or five of their hands on board her. 
 Two days after, they took another vessel of sixty tons, commanded 
 by Peter Manwaring, bound from Antigua to Philadelphia which 
 they likewise kept with all the cargo, consisting chiefly of rum, 
 molasses, sugar, cotton, indigo, and about 25/. in money, valued 
 in all at 500/. ; and the same day our rovers, with the vessels last 
 taken, left Delaware bay, and sailed to Cape Fear river, whe*p 
 they stayed too long for their safety; for the pirate sloop, which 
 they now new-named the Royal James, proved very leaky, so that 
 they were obliged to remain here almost two months in order to 
 repair their vessel. They took in this river a small shallop, which 
 they ripped up to mend their sloop. By these means the prosecu- 
 tion of their voyage, as before mentioned, was deferred till the 
 news came to Carolina of a pirate's sloop being there to careen, 
 with her prizes. 
 
 Upon this information the council of South Carolina was alarmed, 
 apprehending they shomld receive another visit from them speedily; 
 to prevent which, Colonel William Rhet, of the same province, 
 waited on the Governor and generously offered himself to go with 
 two sloops and attack the pirate. The Governor readily accepted 
 his offer, and accordingly gave the colonel a commission, and full 
 power to fit out such vessels as he thought proper for the design. 
 
 In a few days two sloops were equipped and manned — the Henry 
 with eight guns and seventy men, commanded by Captain Masters, 
 and the sea Nymph, with eight guns and sixty men, commanded 
 by Captain Fayrer Hall, both under the entire direction of Colonel 
 Rhet; who, on the 14th of September, went on board the Henry, 
 and with the other sloop sailed from Charlestown to Swillivant's 
 island, to put themselves in order for the cruise. Just then a small 
 ship arrived from Antigua, one Cock, master, with an account 
 that, in sight of the bar, he was taken and plundered by one 
 Charles Vane, a pirate, in a brigantine of twelve guns and ninety 
 men, who, they said, had also taken two other vessels bound in 
 there; one a small sloop, from Barbadoes, Captain Dill, master, 
 the other a brigantine from Guinea, Captain Thompson, master, 
 
MAJOR STEDE BONNET. 419 
 
 with ninety odd negroes, which they took out of the vessel and put 
 on board another sloop, then under the command of one Yeats, his 
 consort, with twenty-one men. This proved fortunate to the owners 
 of the Guineaman, for Yeats having often before attempted to quit 
 this course of life, took an opportunity in the night to leave Vane, 
 and ran into North Edisto river, to the southward of Charlestown, 
 where he surrendered to His Majesty's pardon. Thus the owners 
 got their negroes, and Yeats and his men had certificates given 
 them from the government. 
 
 Vane cruised some time off the bar in hopes to catch Yeats, and 
 unfortunately for them took two ships eoming out, bound to London. 
 While the crews of these were prisoners aboard, some of the 
 pirates gave out that they designed to go into one of the rivers to 
 the southward. All this they told Colonel Rhet, who, upon hear- 
 ing it, sailed over the bar the 15th of September, with the two 
 sloops before mentioned; and having the wind northerly, went 
 after Vane, scouring all the rivers and inlets to the southward; 
 however, not meeting with him, he tacked about and stood for Cape 
 Fear river, in prosecution of his first design. On the 26th follow- 
 ing, in the evening, the colonel with his small squadron entered 
 the river, and saw over a point of laud three sloops at an anchor, 
 which were Major Bonnet and his two prizes. It happened that 
 in going up the river the pilot ran the colonel's sloop aground, and 
 it was dark before they were afloat, which hindered their getting 
 up that night. The pirates soon discovered the sloops; but not 
 knowing who they were, or upon what design they came into that 
 river, they manned three canoes, and sent them down to make 
 prizes of them: but they quickly found their mistake, and returned 
 to the sloop with the unwelcome news. Major Bonnet made pre- 
 parations that night for engaging, and took all the men out of the 
 prizes. He shewed Captain Manwaring, one of his prisoners, a 
 letter he had just written, which he declared he would send to the 
 Governor of Carolina; the contents were to this effect, — " That if 
 the sloops, which then appeared, were sent out against him by the 
 said governor, and he should happen to get clear off, he would 
 afterwards burn and destroy all ships or vessels going in or coming 
 out of South Carolina." The next morning they got under sail 
 and came down the river, designing only a running fight. Colonel 
 Rhet's sloops got likewise under sail and stood for him, getting 
 upon each quarter of the pirate with intent to board him; which 
 Bonnet perceiving, he edged in towards the shore, and being 
 varmly engaged ran his sloop aground. The Carolina sloops being 
 
420 ENGLISH PIRATE8. 
 
 in the same shoal water, were in the same circumstances; the 
 Henry, in which Colonel Rhet was, grounded within pistol-shot 
 of the pirate, and on his bow; the other sloop grounded right 
 a-head of him and almost out of gun-shot, which made her of little 
 service to the colonel while they lay aground. 
 
 At this time the pirates had a considerable advantage; for 
 their sloop, after she was aground, listed from Colonel Rhet's, 
 by which means they were all covered; and the Colonel's sloop 
 listing the same way, his men were as much exposed; notwith- 
 standing which they kept a brisk fire the whole time they lay thus 
 aground, which was near five hours. The pirates made a whiff in 
 their bloody flag, and beckoned several times with their hats, in 
 derision to the colonel's men to come on board, which they answer- 
 ed with cheerful huzzas, and said " That they would speak witji 
 them by-and-bye." This accordingly happened: for, the colonel's 
 sloop being first afloat, he got into deeper water, and after mending 
 the rigging, which was much shattered in the engagement, they 
 stood for the pirate to give the finishing stroke, designing to go 
 directly on board him. Bonnet, however prevented this by sending 
 a flag of truce; and after some capitulating, his whole crew sur- 
 rendered themselves prisoners. The colonel took possession of the 
 sloop, and was extremely pleased to find that Captain Thomas, who 
 commanded her, was the individual person of Major Stede Bon 
 net, who had done them the honour several times to visit their coast 
 of Carolina. 
 
 The Henry had ten men killed, and fourteen wounded; the 
 Nymph two killed and four wounded The officers and sailors in both 
 sloops behaved themselves with the greatest bravery, and had they 
 not so unluckily run aground, they had taken the pirate with much 
 less loss of men ; but as he endeavoured to sail by them and so make 
 a running fight, the Carolina sloops were obliged to keep near him 
 to prevent his getting away. Of the pirates, there were seven killed 
 and five wounded; two of which latter died soon after of their 
 wounds. Colonel Rhet weighed the 30th of September, from Cape 
 Fear river, and arrived at Charlestowu, on the 3rd of October, to 
 the great joy of the whole province of Carolina. 
 
 Bonnet and his crew, two days after, were put on shore, and 
 there not being a public prison, they were kept at the watch-house 
 under a guard of militia; but Major Bonnet was committed into 
 the custody of the marshal, at his own house. In a few days alter, 
 David Harriot, the master, and Ignatius Pell, the boatswain, who 
 were removed from the rest of tbe company to the said marshal' i 
 
MAJOR STEDE BONNET. 421 
 
 house, and every night two sentinels were set about the said house, 
 whether it was through corruption, or want of care in guarding the 
 prisoners, we cannot say; but so it was , that on the 24th October, 
 the major and Harriot made their escape, the boatswain refusing 
 to go along with them. This made a great noise in the province, 
 and people were open in their resentments, often reflecting publicly 
 on the governor, and others on the magistracy, as though they had 
 been bribed for conniving at their getting oiF. These invectives 
 arose from their fears that Bonnet would be capable of raising 
 another company, and of prosecuting his revenge against their 
 country for what he had lately, though justly suffered. But they 
 were in a short tim made easy in those respects; for as soon as 
 the governor had the account of Bonnet's escape, he issued out a 
 proclamation, and promised a reward of 700?. to any that would 
 take him; sending, besides, several boats with armed men both to 
 the northward and southward, in pursuit of him. 
 
 Bonnet stood to the northward in a small vessel, but wanting ne- 
 cessaries, and the weather being bad, he was forced back, and so 
 returned with his canoe to Swillivant's Island, near Charlestown 
 to fetch supplies ; there being now some information given to the 
 governor, he sent for Colonel Rhet, and desired him to go in pur- 
 suit of Bonnet, ?,nd accordingly gave him a commission for that 
 purpose. Hereupon, the Colonel, with a great deal of craft, and 
 some men, went away that night for Swillivant's Island, where, 
 after a diligent search, he discovered Bonnet and Harriot together. 
 The Colonel's men fired upon them, killed Harriot upon the spot, 
 and wounded one Negro and an Indian. Bonnet submitted and 
 surrendered himself; and the next morning, being November the 
 6th, was brought back by Colonel Rhet to Charlestown, and, by 
 the governor's warrant, committed there into safe custody, in order 
 for being brought to his trial. 
 
 The king's commission to Judge Trot being read, and a grand 
 jury sworn for the finding of the several bills, a learned charge 
 was given them by the said judge, wherein he first shewed, that 
 the sea was given by God, for the use of man, and therefore is sub- 
 ject to dominion and property, as well as the land. Secondly, 
 he particularly remarked to them, the supreme sovereignty of the 
 King of England over the British seas. Thirdly, he observed, 
 that as commerce and navigation could not be carried on without 
 laws, so there have been always particular laws, for the better or- 
 dering and regulating marine affairs ; to this he added, an historical 
 account of those laws and their origin. Fourthly, he proceeded to 
 
422 ENGLISH PIRATES. 
 
 shew, that there had been particular courts and judges appointed, 
 to whose jurisdiction maritime causes properly belong; and that in 
 matters most civil and criminal. And then, Fifthly, he particu- 
 larly shewed them, the constitution of the present Court of Admi 
 ralty Sessions. And lastly, the crimes that were cognizable there- 
 in ; here he particularly enlarged upon the crime of piracy, which 
 was now to be brought before them. 
 
 The indictment being found, a petit jury was sworn, and Stede 
 Bonnet, alias Edwards, alias Thomas, late of Barbadoes, mariner 
 together with thirty-two of his companions, were arraigned, tried, 
 and found guilty of the indictments exhibited against them, and 
 received sentence of death accordingly. 
 
 The judge made a very grave and moving speech to them, setting 
 forth the enormity of their crimes, the condition they were in, £nd 
 the nature and necessity of an unfeigned repentence : he then re 
 commended them to the ministers of the province, for more ample 
 directions to fit them for eternity. " For," said he, " the priests' 
 lips shall keep knowledge, and you shall seek the law at their 
 mouths ; for they are the messengers of the Lord, and the ambas- 
 sadors of Christ; and unto them is committed the word of reconci- 
 liation. " After this he pronounced sentence of death upon them, 
 and they were executed on Saturday, the 8th of November, 1788. 
 
 As for the captain, his escape protracted his fate, and spun out 
 his life a few days longer; for he was not tried till the 10th of Nov- 
 ember, when being found guilty, received sentence in like mannei 
 aa the former, and was accordingly executed. 
 
 Printed by Walter Scott, "The Kcnilworth Prm," Fdlin<, y X, 
 
14 DAY USE 
 
 RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED 
 
 LOAN DEPT. 
 
 This book is due on the last date stamped below, 
 or on the date to which renewed. Renewals only: 
 
 Tel. No. 642-3405 
 Renewals may be made 4 days prior to date due. 
 Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. 
 
 ^JW 
 
 MIS' 3 
 
 JUL* 13*4W«g fl 
 
 ffiffllfl 
 
 m ■ m$ 
 
 NOV Q i 1009 
 
 W 1 5 2003 
 
 LD21A-20m-3,'73 Ilni^^/'r/liforoia 
 
 (Q8677sl0)476-A-31 VmV€rSi ^ el ( ^ lliomi9